Conner would be lying if he said he didn't know how he got here. He knew exactly how. That doesn't mean he was proud of it. An embarrassingly loud moan escaped past his pressed together lips as hips thrusted deep inside him, hitting that spot that made his toes curl up from unimaginable pleasure.

Like a bitch, he was sprawled over that expensive mahogany desk, his pants pooling around his ankles, hands gripping the edge of the desk so tightly, his knuckles appeared white. Normally that's how he'd fuck the girls he was with... not be the one getting fucked. Even worse, by his own professor, his married professor. God knows why that man agreed...

More sounds spilled from him as he was rutted into, his painfully hard cock being teasingly stroked, a rough hand digging into his hip bone, no doubt leaving an imprint. Conner's eyes glazed over for a second, until the thick wooden door of Professor Ivanovich's office was basically ripped open. "Professor? There's something important I need to..."

Time seemed to stand still, Conner's eyes widening, a panicked expression spreading on his flushed face. He was staring directly into the newspaper editor's equally shocked eyes. God, someone please kill him. Out of all people it had to be that rat, the head editor of the uni newspaper, catching their professor buried balls deep inside him. Conner was so fucking fucked. Literally and now also metaphorically.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Conner's fist connected with the concrete wall, the skin on his knuckles splitting, crimson red beginning to flood out. Two days. He had looked under every fucking rock for the newspaper editor for two fucking days. That fucking weasel still somehow always managed to not cross paths with him. It had taken him to threaten that photographer pipsqueak Liam to finally get his fucking location.

With fresh determination and a bloodied fist, Conner stormed through the halls of the building, knocking against students left and right, who were too fucking stupid to read the room and make space. Their fault for getting knocked over. Fucking finally he reached the club room of the uni newspaper and burst through the doors. The same way the editor had done on that day they had caught him and the prof.

Long, determined strides carried Conner's frame over to the desk the editor was perched behind lazily. A loud bang was heard when his hands slammed on the white table, knocking over the editor's pen holder. "Editor," Connor snarled, his eyebrows furrowed fists clenching. "I believe there's something you know, that you shouldn't."

Conner's index finger pointed at him accusingly. "It's in your best fucking interest to keep quiet like a good boy, or else..." A smug grin spread on his face, an expression of unearned confidence, as he leaned closer to the editor, so close that their breaths mingled in the air between them. "I'll make your life a fucking living hell."