PRETTY BOY #P.JS

⌦ PRETTY BOY ✿﹐ #P.JS 🎀

pairing ﹒park jisung x fem read genre ﹒fluff , established relationship , cutesy things warnings ﹒jisung’s a tad insecure

⊹ when jisung gets sad over his acne and you catch him trying to figure out your skincare products.

✶ 1O:2Opm ▹﹒🎧

you enter the dorm you and your boyfriend shared. you’ve just gotten done with your exams, feeling tired and in need of your boyfriends presence you called out for him, “ji baby, where are you?” he would usually be sitting in the living room waiting for you by this time, or maybe sleeping since it was late. while looking around you hear a loud thud from the bathroom and what sounds like a squeal. you quickly make your way over to jisung’s bathroom. you try to open the door but to your surprise it’s locked.

“jisung? are you in here?” you knocked lightly on the door, you hear rustling come from inside before he responds quietly, “yeah i am..” you frown slightly wondering why he’s locking himself up in the bathroom. “why’s the door locked? can you open up, pleasee?” still holding onto the door knob. “uh,,,no! no. not yet! let me finish..” you raise an eyebrow in confusion. you could basically hear the sad look on his face. “jisung baby, let me in please.” you plead once more. it takes a few more pleases for you to hear the door unlock from the inside.

you open up the door slowly to reveal your tall boyfriend sitting on the toilet with your moisturizer pads sitting on his face. your serums, toners and lotions sitting on the counter. you look back at him, your face softening once you see why he wanted you out. “don’t laugh.” he pouts, his face flushed a soft pink. you can’t help but smile at him as you crouch in front of him.

“it’s not funny!” the whines leaving his mouth were making you feel even more giggly. “ji baby, i’m not making fun of you.” you grin, placing your hands on his knees. “wanna tell me what you’re doing with my skincare?” he looks away from you, head tilted down. “not really, it’s embarrassing…” you get up and go to check the products he was using. you chuckle to yourself when you see the mixture of different skincare products. “jisung, you know if you wanted to play with my stuff you could’ve just asked.”

he quickly shakes his head, “i’m not, playing with your stuff i’m just..experimenting.” he deeply sighs taking off the pads from his face and rubbing the moisture off his skin with the back of his hand. “i just thought that if i could find something that would get rid of my acne…i would be prettier for you.” your eyes widen, lips forming into a frown. “baby what do you mean, prettier for me?..” your heart hurts for him, you truly hoped he didn’t think you found him unattractive because of his acne.

you grab his hands as you hover over his seated body, “jijj, you’re soso pretty to me.” you reassure him rubbing small circles on his hand. “your acne doesn’t make me think that you’re less pretty than i always have.” you lift one hand to his cheek, rubbing his skin softly. “your skin is perfect, imperfections and all. i’ll always think you’re pretty.”

jisung’s eyes light up hearing your words, his mood changes instantly from one of sadness to happiness. “you mean it?..you’re not teasing me right?” he asks, grabbing your hand in his big cold hands, pressing it against his cheek more. “i mean it ji, i’d never lie to you about something like this.” you smile, “now get up, i’ll do your skincare if you’d like…but with the proper products.” you remark teasingly. he rolls his eyes in response but widely smiles afterwords getting up and holding your hands. you gather your skincare products that you think would fit his skin. while doing so you hear him mumble something under his breath,

“yn..”

“huh? what is it ji?”

“you think i’m pretty?”

your words had finally came to sense in his mind, the smile plastered across his face was something you wish you saw more on him.

“yes jisung, i think you are so pretty.

my pretty boy.”

written by @zchl on tumblr! give credits if reposting to other platforms. :)

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・★

cw: little plot, roommates/fwb to lovers (ig?), strength kink, oral (fem receiving), slightly toxic (?), jealousy, very possessive jeno, overstimulation

18+ minors do not interact !

"stop fucking moving,"

you gasp out when jeno lands a slap on your clit, unable to help but jolt at the wave of pain and pleasure that shoots through your nerves. your eyes are dazed, but you can still make out his figure between your legs. he readjusts, using his big palms to keep your thighs far apart.

"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry," you whimper weakly. he doesn't pay any mind to your apology, though, attaching his mouth to your dripping cunt once again.

by now, you knew jeno well enough to know exactly what pushed his buttons. it's exhilarating to test his limits, because more often than not, you'd end up with a few mind-blowing orgasms as your so-called 'punishment' at the end of the night.

so earlier, when your mutual friend jaemin came over, you thought it would be ingenious to settle down on the couch beside him and swing your legs over his lap.

that was your first mistake.

"sit there and take it," jeno growls, "and stay fucking still unless you want me to edge you all night,"

you knew your little plan would bother jeno, and it very much did. it was painfully obvious on his features, from the moment you hiked up your smooth legs and laid them over jaemin's thighs.

jeno's glare was unyielding, and he had his jaw clenched so tight, you worried his teeth might crack.

purely oblivious to your antics and jeno’s sudden sour mood, jaemin didn't think twice about resting his hands on your bare skin—it was an innocent gesture, really. the problem was, when he told a joke that made you laugh, you laughed a little too hard, taking his hand into your own and sliding it up your thigh.

it was bad enough that your cotton shorts were absolutely tiny, but it was worse that they were now tucked high between your legs. by the time you settled jaemin's hand where you wanted it to be, he was no less than a few inches from your core.

that was mistake number two.

"jeno. holy shit, please,"

"you wanna tease me, huh? wanna get me jealous? you like that shit," it doesn't matter that he's mumbling into your folds and his speech is slightly slurred, you catch onto his every word.

he laps you up again and again, alternating between laying his tongue flat on your clit and wrapping his lips around it to suck on it. his hands have slid up your waist, but his elbows keep your legs pinned open.

you're, quite literally, on fire. the wet, slurping sounds of him making out with your pussy are so loud that they're deafening. every groan and growl he grants shoots vibrations through you, and there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room with the way you're rigidly panting.

if he didn't let you come soon, you're pretty sure you'd pass out.

"do you want anything to drink, jae?"

jeno scoffs. since when the fuck did you call jaemin 'jae?'

"some water would be nice, thanks," the boy flashed his smile at you and you stood up, ass practically hanging out of your shorts and right in his face. you couldn't see with your back turned, but jeno caught the way his friend's eyes darted to your pretty, plump cheeks, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.

you returned with his glass, but just before you handed it to him, you pretended to stumble, and some of the water landed right over his crotch.

was it extremely cliche? sure, but it certainly did the trick.

when you came back with a kitchen towel chanting fake apologies and just about straddled one of his legs, jeno had pretty much had enough.

but then, as if that wasn't nearly enough, you went on to wipe away at jaemin's jeans (right over his slightly swelling bulge) wearing the most infuriatingly innocent look on your face.

"i'm so sorry!"

"it's okay, really," jaemin insisted, subconsciously spreading his knees farther apart so you could continue to dry him off.

"it's really not! jeno," you called, turning and batting your eyes, "can't you lend him one of your pairs?"

the moment your gaze landed on him, you knew you were fucked.

he narrowed his eyes on you, shooting daggers your way. after letting some air out through his nose, he seethed through his tightened teeth a small "sure."

and that? that was mistake number three.

"jeno, baby, i'm so close,"

"no," he warns, "don't you dare fucking come."

"i can't help it, i'm gonna-"

he stops at once, pulling the rug clean from under you and smirking at the way you whine out, body seizing up as your orgasm is stripped away. he watches as your hole pulses incessantly with need, grinding himself into the mattress.

you cry out, "i said i was sorry," but he only tuts, shaking his head.

"you made your bed, now lie in it."

"please," you're breathless and desperate for some sort of release. so much so, that you resort to shamelessly bargaining, "i'll give you head everyday for the next week,"

"not good enough. I can fuck your mouth whenever I want,"

"jeno! i'll- fuck, i don't know," you look around as you rack through your brain, but he doesn't let you finish your thought.

"say you're mine."

"but,” you pause, eyes widening, “i-i'm not,"

jeno sticks his middle finger knuckle deep into you, stilling it there within your tight, fluttering walls, "so then, tell me. you want jaemin's mouth on you instead of mine?"

"no," you answer quickly, honestly.

he pumps into you once, then twice, slowly coaxing the confession out of you, "then say it, baby. say you're mine, that i'm the only one who makes you feel this good,"

"i'm not yours, jeno. we-we've been over this,"

"i guess you don't wanna come then, do you?" he withdraws his digit and sits up on his knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, "i don't know why you have to be so fucking stubborn all the time,"

you watch as he pulls his length out of his boxers, mouth working to gather saliva to the front of his mouth. he spits, letting it fall onto his swollen, pink tip. it's hard to hide the way you're basically squirming in anticipation, hips practically bucking up and closer to him.

"i'm sorry," you try again, voice sweet and airy. but again, he doesn't answer. he simply lines himself up with your hole and pushes in with a hiss, training his eyes on you to watch the way your jaw goes slack.

"you're a brat," he scolds, "and a tease," his hands press down on your tummy, resting his weight there. when he bottoms out, you grip his wrists, looking down to watch the way he sits on his heels with his dick buried in you.

"i'm sorr-“

"stop fucking saying that," he thrusts into you and you moan out, "you know what i wanna hear," his gradually increasing pace makes you shudder, and your orgasm starts building within you once again, "i'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll never even think about jaemin again,"

jeno rams his hips into you and the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes around your bedroom. you try to cover up how close you're getting, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he won't notice until it's too late.

the only problem is: jeno knows you just as well as you know him, and even more so, he knows your body. he prides himself in that—in catching every little involuntary sign and habit you have.

he knows the way your toes curl when he hits the right spot, deep within your gummy walls, and he knows the way your eyes gloss over to spill hot tears when he chokes you.

your face might be able to conceal your true intentions, but your pussy, gushing and squeezing around him, can not.

“if i feel you come around me, so help me god, i’m gonna stop,”

there isn’t the slightest hint of a bluff behind his sharp tone, and it pisses you off. your cheeks are red hot with frustration, nails digging into his skin, which only makes him squeeze your waist harder. the pleasure is dizzying, his thick length dragging up and down your walls in the most delectable way.

you aren’t gonna last much longer, you know that. he knows that.

“please, jeno. please please please,”

“i’ll let you come, baby. there’s nothing i want more than for you to come on my cock, but i need you to tell me,”

sneakily, you trail your hand between your legs to stimulate your clit, but he’s quick to grasp both of your wrists before you can even savor the feeling, pinning your arms on your chest between your bouncing breasts.

you’re a mere second away from whining out in protest when his own free hand flies to rub circles on your puffy clit, and suddenly, the feeling is far too overwhelming.

forced to blink harshly a few times to regain focus, you look at his features and come to the conclusion that truthfully, jaemin, and no one else for that matter, could ever make you feel like this.

you didn’t want anyone else anyway. your little act was just a ploy to get you to this very point, stuck underneath jeno who manages to make you come so hard each and every time he’s inside you that you wind up seeing stars.

as the cord threatens to snap in your belly, every ounce of you longing for release, you moan out loudly, giving in, “i’m yours! i don’t want anyone else, i promise,”

“yeah?”

“yes,” you insist, “yes, baby. fuck, m’all yours, always yours,”

he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and suddenly, all the anger he had been airing out fades for a moment. he doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat (although you wouldn’t have minded much), and he doesn’t move his lips in any kind of rush; instead, they move against yours softly, almost feather-like, as if your confession would float away from any suddenness.

and finally, against your lips, he mumbles, “go ahead and come, sweet girl. i’ve got you.”

instantly, your nerves ignite and your breath hitches, your orgasm washing over you at last.

he isn’t far behind, not at all. he had been sensitive ever since he’d started humping the bed with his head stuck between your legs.

he finishes with you, in you, shooting streams of hot white cum inside your clenched walls. the grip he holds on your hand releases as a grunt rumbles in his throat, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, letting him bury his face into your neck.

when he stills his movements, he lays his weight on top of you, warm, slick skin pressing right up against you, chest to chest.

after a few moments of silence, other than the settling heavy breaths from both of you, you rake your fingers through his hair, muttering timidly by his ear.

“i mean it. i’m yours. i only did all that earlier for—well, for this.”

“all mine?”

you nod, giving him reassurance when he lifts his head to read the expression on your face, “mhm.”

“good. i’m all yours, too.”

starboy » hrj

genre | space theif!renjun x space pirate!reader

word count | 1.7k

summary | infamous space thief, known as the starboy, has singlehandedly ruined your reputation as a member of the great emeraldite fleet. but as fate would have it, he crash lands on your home planet, giving you a chance at redemption

warnings | none really, maybe the tiniest bit of violence?? reader is book one prince zuko coded lmao

based on the story + video planetkid by kickthepj (watching this isn’t required to understand but very recommended)

you know him.

from the moment this mysterious boy tumbles out of his deteriorating vessel into the garden, you recognize him. his face, that of which is plastered on wanted posters and bounty offers across nearly every corner of the universe, is extremely notorious from one galaxy to the next. the space thief. the starboy.

the hinges squeal as renjun pushes the hatch open, poking his mop of messy silver hair through the new opening, bones rattled from the rugged landing, chest burning from the plumes of smoke rising from the busted control panel. he squints through the tinted lenses of his big red glasses against the light glinting off the metal surface of his defective spacecraft.

you cross the yard, quite amused as you watch the clumsy boy trip over his own legs and plummet into the flowers. the breath is knocked from renjun’s scalding lungs as he makes contact with the dirt, and he sputters, pushing himself up from the greenery. you chuckle, and the frazzled boy stares up at you in surprise as you approach him, his hands and knees buried in dirt.

renjun’s eyes trace this new, mystifying silhouette that has appeared in front of him, removing his clunky red glasses from his face. you stand above the flowers in your small garden as if you grew from the soil along with them, and when you smile downward, renjun forgets every star he’s ever seen.

“rough day?” you jab, crossing your arms over your chest. your voice baffles renjun as he gawks up at you; he’s momentarily forgotten that speaking is a normal living function, seeing as in this illusory moment he’s lost his own voice. his mouth opens, but no words spill from his lips.

“i’ll take that as a yes,” you grin cheekily at the dumbfounded boy, stretching your arm down to him to help him up from the ground. suddenly renjun is painfully aware of the absurdity of the moment, and his face is stained a pink color as he grasps your hand and pulls himself up. he brushes the dust from his pants, tucking his glasses away into his back pocket.

he’s utterly entranced as you look over at his mangled aircraft, patting the side with your hand, earning a hollow, metallic noise and a puff of exhaust in return.

“nice piece of junk you got here,” you muse, walking over to peek through the fog clouded hatch renjun had just ungracefully dipped from. renjun watches the way you move. “how long have you had it?”

a moment of stillness passes between you. your eyes find his, a curious look on your face, and only then does renjun realize you’re speaking to him. he shakes his head and clears his ashy throat, the color in his cheeks darkening. “i think.. about 700 years?” he answers. he can feel your eyes igniting a fire in him, and he feels he might soon malfunction just as his ship did.

“700? about time this hunk of metal said ‘abort’ then, huh?” you laugh, making renjun’s heart trip and plunge into his stomach. suddenly he sticks his hand out in front of him. you jump a bit, startled by renjun’s abrupt choice of actions, but you take his hand when he grins at you and states his name.

“huang renjun,” he introduces himself, completely dismissing the fact that giving his full name to someone- allowing it to be connected to his face and not just a faceless fairytale as some might argue- could land him in a world of trouble. somehow, in this moment renjun just doesn’t seem to care. his mind is only filled with the remarkable individual that stands in front of him.

renjun is blissfully unaware that you already know his name, and that this is not the first time he has made your acquaintance.

6 years ago

even before you had started your journey on the ship, you’d always heard stories of the starboy. you just never believed you’d ever see him in person. at least, not so soon. so unexpectedly.

you walk down the hall of the great emeraldite ship that your room is stationed on, room 437D, whistling a tune you’d learned when visiting the next galaxy over. you swing your sword as you saunter, in no sort of rush at all, tapping the wooden walls to the beat of the music playing in your head.

as you approach your door, you hear a quiet ruckus just on the opposite side, causing you to perk up, and as the noise grows louder, you detect that it’s coming from the air ducts just above your quarters. you quietly creep closer to your door and tightly grip the knob, turning it slowly, a bubble of anticipation building up in your chest.

you open the door just enough to peek in, ready to burst in and seize the intruder, but what meets your eye makes you freeze in place.

the space their himself lowers from the duct, swinging his body to land swiftly on his hands and knees on the creaky wooden floor below him. he lifts his head, his hair a sweaty mess, and he looks around, staying low to ground and surveying the room he’s just landed in. he begins to make an inventory in his mind of everything he sees, searching for anything that might be of value to him. an unkempt bed in one corner, a small, cluttered desk diagonal to it. a large window lining one wall, giving a view out into the stars. as he looks around, lifting himself from the creaky wood, he mentally checks off 437D. nothing of worth in this room.

renjun glances back up at the open vent on the ceiling and is just about to climb back into the duct when a glint from the desk catches his attention once again, pulling him back. he eyes the jacket draped on the back of the desk chair, and he smirks, bringing himself to it. from behind the door you continue to watch him, too stunned to do anything at all.

renjun snags the jacket from the chair and turns it in his hands, feeling the shiny exterior, then the silky interior. he’s never seen a jacket quite like it; he never assumed the crew of the emeraldite even had such taste. he flips it behind him, shoving his arms in the holes and pulling it onto his shoulders. a perfect fit.

with his find, renjun disappears back into the vent with a big grin on his face. by the time you can come to your senses and realize what just happened, the starboy is long gone.

causiously you step into your quarters, somehow feeling now that the room has a foreign energy in it. you walk to the center, where the thief had just landed, and you sigh. though you had only just joined the fleet, your talent hadn’t gone unnoticed by your peers and calling you a rookie felt blasphemous. but when news gets out that a fighter such as yourself had allowed the one and only starboy to walk free from your own room without so much as a scratch on his head, you’ll never live it down.

what have you done?

however, you do figure that renjun will be caught one way or another. the emeraldite ship was nothing short of a maze; he’ll surely take a wrong turn somewhere or place his hand just so for the metal to collapse beneath him, sending him sprawling right into his own cell.

but just seconds later, you see a strange ship fleeing from the great emeraldite, and the alarm blares down every hall, red light flashing from every bulb on board. a fiery rage spreads through your body as you watch the criminal, once again, escape his consequences. as the starboy’s ship grows smaller with distance, you feel an incredible sense of guilt and dread.

ever since that incident, the captain emerald’s first priority has been to capture the starboy and imprison him for his crimes. as for you, you were stripped of your title as a member of the emeraldite forces as well as any morsel of pride you had. in his own words, the only way the captain would even consider allowing you back on board was if you brought the thief to him with your own hands.

huang renjun had made a mockery of you without even knowing it.

this boy in your garden has a enormous bounty hanging above his head for ruining the emeraldite’s reputation, and you know you’re about to be showered with praise and riches for your accidental visitor. you relish in the idea of finally earning your honor back and returning to the force, all the while renjun is unaware that just as he’s fallen from the sky, he’s also fallen from grace, right into the palm of your hand.

you shake renjun’s outstretched hand in a friendly manner, stating your name to him in return. as soon as renjun hears it, he knows exactly why it sounds so familiar to him, and his heart begins to hammer dangerously against his ribcage.

renjun had thought that, through all his traveling, all the places he’d been and the beings and creatures he’d met, he’d heard all the possible names anyone could have ten times over. but your name, he’d read stitched on the collar of the stolen jacket. first name and last, it rolled off his tongue smoother than any he’d said before, and this name he’s just heard matches that of the one embroidered on the stolen fabric that he’s sporting at this very moment.

renjun pulls his hand away, alarms ringing in his head, telling him that now you know exactly who he is, and he needs to leave. you see renjun’s demeanor change. his head dips down to his gunk covered boots and he runs his hand through his messy hair that still smells of campfire smoke from the fog billowing from the hatch of his spacecraft. he stumbles over his words as well as his feet as you step closer to him, smirking at his awkwardness.

“maybe i uh- you know, i think that maybe- my ship isn’t that old, i uhm- i can probably just uh, twist some wires and-” renjun bumbles stupidly, taking a step back each time you come closer. he sees you grip the small knife in it’s holder at your side and he turns quickly to reach for the ship’s hatch, but you catch him by the back of your stolen jacket, forcing the boy back into you, and press the cold, sharp metal against the spot just under renjun’s chin. a shiver claws up his spine as your hot breath hits his neck as you speak.

“on behalf of the board of the great emeraldite, you’re under arrest, starboy.”

teacher’s pet » mkl

genre | smut (mdni!!), college professor!mark x student!reader

word count | 1.7k

summary | you’re infatuated by your english literature professor, and your grade is suffering because of it, so you decide to talk to him about it

warnings | smut, afab!reader and female pronouns, oral (f receiving)

loosely based on teacher’s pet by melanie martinez

•••

“professor lee,” your words are delicate as they fall from your lips, and you do nothing to suppress the nervous smile that appears on your face when he looks up at you over the rim of his glasses.

class has just ended, and the other students have just finished filtering out. the air feels thick despite the fact its now only you two in the room. “may i talk to you about something, sir?” you fiddle with the cuffs of your sweater as you stand at the front of his desk.

“of course,” he replies with a friendly smile. he sets down his pen and rises from his chair, moving swiftly around the desk and taking a seat on the edge, right in front of you. suddenly you’re hyper aware of how he’s now at eye level with you. he clasps his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees, and leans forward a bit to hear what you have to say.

“what’s on your mind?”

all of a sudden, you seize up. you’ve never had to talk to him in private before, and you’re frozen under his kind brown eyes that are fixed entirely on you. you attempt to get any coherent string of words out, but your mouth will just not respond. after a second of silence he lets out a gentle chuckle, and your cheeks flare with heat.

“taking a wild guess here, this is about your grade, yeah?”

a little ashamed that he already knows, you give him a timid nod. “yes, sir.”

“i’ve seen your transcripts, i know you’re a very smart girl, y/n. but your grade in this class just doesn’t reflect that.” as he speaks he adjusts his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. you stare at his fingers as they move. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about it for a while.”

“i, i-huhm,” you gulp, praying that he can’t tell how nervous you are in his presence. your chest begins to tighten up, attempting to stutter out any morsel of an excuse. you lower your head in embarrassment, fidgeting with the fabric of your skirt. he must have noticed the way your breathing involuntarily stutters.

“hey, it’s alright, sweetheart,” you hear him say, and you feel his fingers brush against your hand. your heart flutters as you feel him gently pull you forward, closer to him. a gasp catches in your throat as you snap your head up to look at him, your eyes wide and body temperature rising as you’re now standing between his legs.

his hand holds yours gently on his knee, thumb brushing across your knuckles. his free hand rises to brush your hair off your shoulder. you swear your legs could betray you at any second.

“i’m here to help you, okay? but you have to tell me what’s going on.” theres a tone in his voice and a warmth in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. his aura is so… loving.

“i think- uhm,” you swallow hard. “i think i’m just a bit distracted is all.”

he hums in thought. you feel your resolve starting to crumble at a pace that’s impossible to recover from. as your eyes dip down to his lips, you notice the way they tip up in a teasing smile.

“what’s distracting you?” his words are slow, heavy.

hot blood rushes through your veins. you can practically feel your pupils dilate. “i wish i could answer that,” you breathe.

english literature had never been your forte as it is, but now that mr. lee- the genuinely most heart stopping man you’ve ever seen- is teaching that subject, it was as if you couldn’t write an intelligible sentence to save your life. you never would have expected a simple professor your sophomore year of college to have such a destructive effect on your grade, as well as your sanity.

coursework is something you can just never will yourself to focus on when he is in the same room. how he sticks the stem of his glasses between his teeth while he grades papers, the way his forearms flex when he leans against a table, that deep voice of his rambling on and on about god knows what while you’re sat in your seat, practically drooling on the end of your pen and rubbing your thighs together as you can only dream of the things you wanted him to do to you.

how can you tell him that he is your distraction?

“you can tell me, i promise.”

your brain is full of fog. you no longer have enough sense to decipher whether or not you’re being completely delusional in thinking he wants exactly what you do. but theres such a strong force pulling you in, weighing you down that you just can’t bring yourself to fight it anymore.

so with not a single thought in your mind other than just your utter need for him, you can’t stop yourself from swiftly leaning forward and stealing his lips in a kiss.

you pull away as soon as you realize what’s happened, ready to babble out some sort of justification for having done something so inappropriate, but you notice one of his hands now lays on your cheek, and the other that held yours has pulled you in even closer, your fingers now resting on his upper thigh. his eyelids are low, breath heavy, glasses fogged.

in a split second you’ve gripped his button up shirt in your fists and pulled your chests together with full force, your lips moving desperately against his. he slides both his large hands around your waist, venturing down to where your skirt falls. you feel his fingertips brush against your skin, digging into the plush of your thighs just below your underwear. you groan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and practically rutting against him for any sort of friction you can find.

he takes this as a hint, gripping the back of your legs and hoisting you up as he stands. you cling to him, fervently kissing him as if he’d disappear if you separated. his hands knead your flesh under your skirt, kissing with you with equal messy hunger.

the kiss breaks once more when he makes it to the other side of his desk, plopping you down in his wheeled office chair. you squeeze the fabric of his collar in your fingers, chasing his lips when they pull away from yours.

“i’ve got some extra credit for you, sweetheart,” your professor says, your chin held between his fingers as you gawk up at him towering over you. face flushed and lips raw, he grins deviously at you from above. you gaze at him like he’s an angel in disguise. “you think you can earn it?”

“yes, sir.”

“good girl,” he purrs, lowering himself to the floor in front of you. your breath quickens, pussy beating with desire at just the mere image of your professor on his knees before you. the loving aura he had is now gone, replaced with nothing but lust.

his eyes are trained solely on your face as he flips your skirt up, revealing your lacy white panties that are already soaked, leaking onto the faux leather of the seat.

“is this okay?” he asks you. you nod frantically.

he smirks at your eager reaction, hooking his fingers under the hem of your panties to pull them down your shaking legs. you whimper sweetly as his fingers trace ever so lightly against your dripping entrance. but you whine as the tender friction disappears, and he’s suddenly right next to you, hot breath tickling your ear.

“you have to be quiet, pretty girl, do you think you can do that for me?” he warns. you arch your back, nails digging into the arm rests, begging for him to continue.

“yes, sir,” you mewl once more.

he hums in satisfaction, placing a hot kiss on your jaw. sweat collects on your hairline as you watch him loosen the black tie around his neck, whipping it off his shirt so harshly it cracks against the tiled floor. the silky fabric covers your mouth as he presses it to your face, and ties it in a tight knot at the back of your head.

needy whimpers of anticipation bleed into the cloth around your mouth as he lowers himself between your legs. the moment his tongue finally meets your weeping core you choke out a muffled cry. as his tongue delves in he groans against your skin, the deep vibration making your head fall back and your eyes squeeze shut. he keeps his hands on your trembling thighs to keep the wheels from moving, sinking his fingers into your soft skin.

your own hands move from their place on the arm rests into his blond hair, raking and yanking as you mercilessly attempt to ground yourself despite the bold pace he’s already moving at. your breath feels muggy against your skin as its trapped in your mouth as you moan.

each second that passes as your professor devours you makes it harder to keep yourself quiet. his tongue swirls faster and faster with little warning, his nose brushing your clit with every bob of his head. a dull buzzing begins to simmer inside you and you just know you’re making an absolute mess of his face.

rapidly approaching release, one of your hands finds purchase on the edge of the desk, gripping so hard your knuckles burn white. the other stays in his hair, tugging him impossibly closer to your core. he notices you’re close, and shifts his tongue up to focus solely on your clit. tears start to spill through your lashes and down your red cheeks as you cum on your professor’s face, and he works you through your orgasm while lewd, pathetic whines are stifled by your makeshift muzzle.

panting heavily, you shiver as he tugs the tie down to hang loosely around your neck, a string of saliva connecting to your lips. you open your eyes and blush when you’re met with his face, covered and glistening from your juices, the lenses of his glasses still cloudy. his pretty wet mouth grins at you, a hand coming up to wipe away the tear stains.

“such a good student, you’re my sweet little teachers pet, yeah?”

i may be jaemin biased but i am so incredibly in love with jisung he is just such a beautiful soul i would do anything for him :((((

casual conversations on a friday afternoon god bless