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#( thank you for sending this in pi!! <3 )
k-hotchoisan · 6 months
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<yunho x fem!reader>
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well, pining after your brother’s fucking attractive best friend isn’t a sin if he doesn’t know right? nobody has to know.
nobody has to know that you're lodged in his fantasies when the nights deepen.
nobody has to know what happens when you're forced to share a room with Yunho.
Genre/Warnings: smut, big dick! X Perverted! Yunho, unprotected sex, low key corruption kink, mutual pining, cream pies, fingering, orgasms, overstimulation, oh no they are forced to share a room!, sexual tension, dirty talk
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee
🩷 back to staying perverted
A/N: send me to jail for being so inactive TT I know life happens and I shouldn't apologise for going mia for a bit but I still feel so bad! Nonetheless, please continue giving my works as much love as you all always do, and that ya'll are my source of motivation. Thank you for waiting ❤️
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Undoubtedly, it’s either your brother has good taste in making friends, or you just have interesting taste in men, because out of all men you had a crush on, it had to be the one closest to your brother—Jeong Yunho. Something about him made your heart flutter uncontrollably. Maybe it was the way he would lean in towards you when he wanted to whisper something in your ear, keeping your brother an arm’s length while his voice tickled perfectly as it reverberates in your brain. Maybe it was the way he would hold your stare for a couple of seconds before his pretty smiles spreads across his lips, as if he was keeping a secret that he wants to tell you. Maybe it was the way he would bump his arm against yours when he wants to ally with you to piss your brother off. 
Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny that the feelings you had for him were growing exponentially. How you managed to keep said feelings in bay was a mystery. You could attribute it to knowing Yunho for as long as you did. Maybe he treated everyone nice and politely like that. It was hard not to keep your hopes up sometimes and it really made you frustrated. 
“A chalet?” You repeat. “What’s the occasion?” 
“Just a weekend out”, your brother replies. “A couple of friends will be coming. You know them, including Yunho.���
“Are you going?” Yunho suddenly asks. 
You break eye contact with Yunho, going back to your phone. “No. I’m going on a date.”
Yunho’s eyes widen. There is a flash of panic that flickers in his eyes. His words spill out of him before he realises it. 
“With who? How come I didn’t know?” 
You cast a confused glance at him. “Why would you need to know?”
That was when Yunho realises, and he simmers down, going back to hiding behind his phone screen. He bites his tongue, hoping you nor your brother ha caught on. But thankfully, no one else questions him. In fact, your brother doubles down.
“Yeah, you didn’t tell me?” Your brother echos. 
“As if you’re interested in my love life”, you playfully retort, rolling your eyes before you disappear into your room, before Yunho starts to hear your heartbeat right in your ears again. 
Yunho stares blankly at his phone, still processing that you’ll be going on a date. Something sits uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. He’s running his brain, thinking of a million ways to make you cancel the date, half of it under the pretence of your brother. How could he do it without making it obvious? 
“And why would I cancel my date, Jeong Yunho?” You ask, your arms crossed. For some reason, your brother and Yunho were suddenly way too interested in your date. Especially Yunho. He would not get off your back about it. 
“It’s dangerous? Who knows he might be a serial killer!” He was really dramatic about too, might you add. 
You scoff, and an amused smile tugs the corner of your lips, as your hand reaches out to pat his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Yun. You’re on my speed dial if anything happens okay?” 
For a moment, you feel his gaze piercing right into you, as if time didn’t exist—the both of you caught in between each other’s gazes, Yunho looking like he wants to say something, but he stops himself. You quickly break the eye contact, remembering that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that Yunho is just being as worried as your brother. Nothing more than that. Yunho wants to hold the gaze longer. He almost wants to break the imaginary boundaries then both of you set, but he snaps into to reality when he watches you leave, his voice trapped in his throat. 
Fuck. Looks like he’s the one losing now. 
It doesn’t help that during that night, you slip into his dreams, and instead of you leaving, he has your face in his hands, and your lips are on his. He feels you in your entirety, and you feel so fucking good pressed against him. Yunho wants so badly to mark every part of you, to remind you he could do so much better than whoever you’re supposedly going out with. He could kiss you better, fuck you better. Then it switches—to you in front of him, your ass bouncing off his cock, loud smacks echoing from the walls as he sinks into your pussy with a broken sigh.
That’s when he fucking jolts awake, warm fluids streaming down his thighs, as he swallows an imaginary mass in his throat because what the fuck just happened? He stares blankly at the white ceiling of his room, mind as blank. 
How fucked is he?
Yunho reaches to the doorstep of the chalet, almost close to midnight. Dance practice had bleed past the time, later than he thought. He greets his friends at the barbecue pit, still grilling chicken and seafood, stealing a stick and getting playfully hit before he enters the chalet itself. 
Your brother sat there, comfortable with his girlfriend’s legs crossed over his lap as they had joycons in their hands, playing some kind of co-op game together. His friend turns to him, before his eye dart back to the screen once he acknowledges Yunho, much too engrossed with the level he and his girlfriend was at. 
“Your room’s to the left of the stairs. I hung your lanyard there”, your brother says, before his attention goes right back to the game. For a spilt second, he suddenly remembers that he wanted to tell Yunho something, something important, but when his girlfriend squeals at clearing the level, the thought is completely erased from his memory.
Yunho climbs up the stairs, pushes the door open, and completely stops in his tracks as his gaze locks with yours. You’re seated on the bed, relaxed and on your phone until the door suddenly pushes open, and Yunho stands there, looking as bewildered as you. 
There is a long moment of silence between the both of you. 
“Can I help you, Yunho?” You break it. 
“No…isn’t this my room?” Yunho clarifies. You glance around and shrug. 
Yunho drops his bag, his heart beating loudly in his chest. 
His eyebrows furrow, confusion sprawled across his face. 
“Hold on. Weren’t you suppose to be on a date?” 
You shrug again. “Yeah. It ended early. I thought of finding my brother and he asked me to use this room since it was vacant. I supposed he forgot to tell you? I could leave if-“
“N-no. You can stay, since you’re already here”, Yunho cuts you off. No fucking way is he wasting this chance. Somehow the thought of you within the same, close proximity is making his head dizzy. “You’re okay with sharing the bed? I can sleep downstairs.”
Your face starts to heat up. As much as it was the elephant in the room, for Yunho to bring up so straightforwardly like that was making your mind wander a little too close to the sun. 
You force a small smile. “It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” Well, not a lie, the only thing was that the both of you were blacked out drunk when it happened that one time. 
Yunho’s signature smile appears. He looks comforted, at least. “Right. Then I’ll use the bathroom to wash up.” He grabs a spare towel on the rack, then walks back to dig for his clothes in his duffle before he disappears into the bathroom, leaving you with your messy thoughts. Your hand is over your heart, and you feel it beating a little too wildly. 
Nothing’s gonna happen. Two people of the opposite sex can share a bed just fine, is what you tell yourself. Yeah, that would have been the case, if the opposite gender wasn’t Jeon Yunho. 
Fifteen minutes felt like fifteen years in all honesty. The anxiety wouldn’t simmer down, so you end up burying yourself underneath the cold sheets, hoping that you’d end up falling asleep. 
And by some miracle, you did. That is, until you feel the mattress weigh down, and shuffling on the sheets, then something bumping against your leg. You stir slightly from the disruption.
“Sorry. The bed’s a little…cramped”, you hear Yunho’s voice tickling your ears as his legs press against yours. 
You stay silent, the only things that you hear are the whirling of the air conditioning and the sound of your heart about to fucking burst from your rib cage. 
“It’s fine”, you finally reply, your body completely still, unsure how actually close the male is against you, only his legs pressed up against the back of your knees and his arms are barely touching your back as a gauge. Well, you weren’t in the mood to find out. The myriad amount of assurances you repeat to yourself that he’s just a friend, that he’s just Jeon Yunho, does nothing to comfort you to say the least. 
You hear his voice ring a little to close to your ears again. “How was your date?”
You don’t want to answer, your eyes are focused onto the darkness of the door in front of you. You fear that he might hear your thoughts if you speak, even though that’s literally impossible. 
“It was fine”, you curtly reply, squeezing the spare pillow in your arms. 
“What did you think of him?” 
“I think he’s okay. He’s quite a decent guy. Then again, it’s just the first date”.
The mattress shifts suddenly and you freeze when you feel him inch even closer to you. You have no clue what expression he’s making but from the way he suddenly shifts rather dramatically, you would assume that he seemed shocked? 
Oh, you were definitely about to find out. 
“You’re planning to see him again?” He’s closer now. You feel his chest almost pressing against your spine. You feel his gaze piercing daggers into the back of your head. You feel his agitation. But over what?
“I haven’t decided on that yet”, you reply. But you cut him before he says anything, “but what’s it to you? You usually don’t care about the things I do. Let alone my dates.”
This time, it’s Yunho’s turn to fall silent. The weight of the mattress beneath you shifts once more it stills. For a moment, you assume that he’d shifted away from you, and maybe he’d let the matter die off.
“Who said I didn’t?”
Now he’s completely pressing his body against you—you feel his lips just a hair’s length from the back of your neck, his chest completely flat against your back. 
His crotch right against your ass. 
“Yunho-“, you try turning to face him before the both of your start making any mistakes, but his hand presses your waist down, halting any movements you were about to make. Heat is flushing your cheeks.
“I’ll stop if you don’t want to, and I’ll turn away, and sleep downstairs. I won’t force you if you don’t want to.”
Shit, shit, shit. The more words Yunho speak, the more they aren’t registering in your damn head. His voice is melting in your ears, low and dangerous. The consequences that once rang like alarm bells in your head slowly grow muted, and now it’s just your carnal desire to let Yunho do whatever he wanted to you.
“I’m not doing this without your consent, my dear”, he reminds , and his hand is slowly trailing off your body. 
All the repercussions, completely wiped off when your feelings that you once tried to fucking hard to suppress behind to bubble up to the surface, and for Yunho to just summon them so easily when he says it so gently and with such  temptation.
But you should still probably stop this-
From the way you’re staying quiet, Yunho is ready to just cut his advances. After all, he’s not interested in making you feel uncomfortable, as much as he wants to just ruin you all for himself. He keeps his breathing light, but his heart is still beating loudly in his chest, bracing himself for the rejection, his hand gradually lifting from your waist, very much reluctantly-
Until he feels your hand cup his. 
“I wanna feel you, Yunho”, you answer him, loud enough for him to hear, even though it was only the two of you within the confines of the room. 
Yunho feels like he’s not close enough to you, even though the both of you are squeezed together, and his erection is evident—pressing shamelessly against the curve of your ass. It’s driving up the wall. 
Another thing he doesn’t expect is the way your fingers curl around his wrist, and you bring him to your braless tits, and he short-circuits when his fingers press against your hard nipples. You curse softly when he rolls them gently against his fingertips, and you lean back against his chest. Yunho takes the chance to kiss your neck down to your shoulders, making you melt all over again. 
But he doesn’t want to stay there for long. His cock is just throbbing and it’s overtaking his rationale. 
You always offhandedly complimented that Yunho had such long, slender and pretty fingers, and that he made mundane actions—writing, typing—look so attractive.
And now, his fingers are prying your legs to spread open for him.
His fingers dip into the wetness of your soaked folds, and his mind almost completely blanks out for the second time at the way you’re drenched for him. 
“Fuck. All of this for me?” He asks rhetorically, as he easily sinks two fingers in, hearing you choke from how his fingers are filling you up so well. The tip of his fingertips press against a spongy spot, and your head tilts back, face so flushed from the pleasure when he begins curl his fingers while in you and while he fucks your wet cunt. 
He’s not letting you form any coherent thoughts in your head, not while he’s finger fucking the thoughts right out your poor brain.
“You’re so fucking soft. Shit. I really want to fuck you so fucking bad”, he grunts in your ear, his hips grinding against your ass like a natural instinct to. 
“Your cock”, you mutter, struggling to keep your eyes open and mind clear. “Fuck. Need you to fuck me so good.”
Yunho inhales the scent of your hair wash as he peppers bites and kisses down the nape of your neck, smiling when he feels goosebumps spread across your skin.
He’s so tempted. But not yet. He desperate—desperate to see you fucking fall apart just with his fingers.
So he pulls his soaked fingers out, and for a moment, you whine at how empty your cunt feels, just ready to fucking beg him to fuck you with his fingers, his cock, whatever. 
He sits up, pushing the thick and heavy blankets aside, tugging your wet bottoms and panties off, giving himself a mental reminder to pocket your panties when he’s done with you. 
You’re spread open and perfectly wide for him to admire and drool over. By now, his eyes are pretty much adjusted the darkness, and the both of you are lazy to switch on the nightlight, so he’s definitely able to see your pussy in full view.
“Y-yu-“, your words completely cut off when he plunges two fingers right into your pussy again, filling you up completely. And this time, his other hand is on your clit, fingers rubbing, sending sparks flying beneath your eyelids. 
The pleasure makes you buck your hips, and it builds so dangerously quick in your abdomen. The sounds of your pussy growing so fucking wet only encourages Yunho to pick up the pace, catching a rhythm of fucking and rubbing your clit so perfectly that you realise the feeling is growing way too funny. 
“Y-Yunho-“ you try again. “Oh god. Feels weird.” Nonetheless, you don’t say it without your eyes rolling back and your abdomen flexing. 
“That’s it. Let it go for me, baby. It’ll feel so fucking good.”
Oh fuck. You don’t even register it before it happens—it totally washes over you, and you’re just helplessly submitting to how fucking good this feels as you squirt all over Yunho, your mind swimming in the depths of ecstasy, your moans drowned when Yunho seals your lips shut with his, greedy to just keep them all to himself, and well, also not trying to wake the whole chalet up. 
When Yunho pulls back and sees how flushed spent your face looks, he can’t help but sink deeper into his feelings for you. He goes in for another kiss, this time with your mind slowly clearing from the mind-blowing orgasm. Your arms wrap around his neck instantly, pulling him as close as you could, soft moans in between kisses only making him impossibly harder than he already was. 
He shifts to lie down on the bed with you again, this time the both of you facing each other. He tugs the hem of your shirt and lugs it over your head, before lowering himself slightly to face your chest. You don’t know how but his pants are somehow kicked off, somewhere on the bed, and he’s bare and so fucking hard when he presses his cock on your pussy. 
“Lift your leg for me, babe”, he says, palm sliding on the underside of your thigh as he feels you spread your legs open for him once more. 
Yunho rubs his cockhead along your wet fucking folds, before he pushes himself in, a whimper leaving his lips as he bites on your shoulder to stop any loud noises from slipping past his lips. 
He pushes himself in even more, and your arms are around his neck once more, light red imprints from your fingernails dig into his skin.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Feels like fucking heaven. So fucking tight and soft”, he mutters, eyes so glazed, and arms so tight around you when he finally buries himself into the hilt. 
Your mind is complete mush by then—combined with Yunho’s cock that’s stuffed in you and the scent of his hair wash, you swear you were gonna cum for the second time. You knew he probably packed something, but holy fucking shit, you just never thought it would fill you up this fucking good. The rest of your senses slowly start to dull, the feeling of Yunho’s cock almost taking them  all away. 
“Shit. You’re fucking squeezing me-fuck!-here,” Yunho says, but it comes off as a broken moan. His head is buried into the crook of your neck, and you hear him trying to steady his breath through a slew of curses. 
“You wanna move now?” You ask, your fingers combing through his messy locks. Yunho thinks he might have some sort of hair combing fetish with you now. 
“Fuck, yes, please,” is all he replies before he pulls out slightly, then thrusting right back in, projecting fucking stars into your eyelids when he fills you up again and again. 
You press your head against the pillow, eyes shut from the pleasure. When you find the strength to open them, Yunho’s glazed out expression is what comes into view. He’s looking at you like you’re his fucking treasure. 
“Does it feel good? You feel so fucking amazing, y/n.”
“You can’t be asking me that when you’re fucking the thoughts right out of me”, and you squeal when he thrusts into you once more, filling you up to the brim.
“Even better. So my cock will be only the cock you know, right?” He smiles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes when your walls clench around him again.
And when you don’t answer, his hand slithers to your neck, and he squeezes, making you gasp. 
“Answer me, pretty.”
“Yes, fuck yes. Don’t need anyone else’s when you’re fucking me so good”, you cry, relishing in the way he’s gradually cutting off your oxygen supply. 
His thrusts grow harder and faster, his hands slowly letting go of your throat.
“That’s my good girl.”
And that makes your cunt flutter and pulsate uncontrollably for the second time, only now it’s on his cock this time. 
“F-fuck. Oh, that’s it. That’s a good fucking girl, cumming all over my cock like that”, his voice ups a pitch when you fall apart again. “I’m gonna cum. Make sure you’re full and dripping when I’m fucking done with you.”
And when he does, he leaves a whole garden of bites on your chest and shoulders on top of filling your pussy up with his thick and warm cum. You never thought his face would get anymore attractive, but when he cums? You could get addicted to pulling that expression out of him, that’s for sure. 
The both of you are panting as your highs wear off, hands still not off each other despite the shared warmth. He’s the first to let go, and you’re about to say something until he turns you around, and it’s then when his cock starts to harden in you. Your heart is beating rapidly again when his cock is filling you up once more, as it slowly displaces his cum that leaks past your sopping hole.
Your hand grabs onto his arm that’s snaking around your waist. 
“W-wait. We need to talk about my broth-“, and he hears you whimper when he pushes himself deeper into you, throbbing in you. The way he’s littering kisses down your neck is sending you into a spiral, and now you’re nothing but weak against him, and his fat cock.
“That can wait to tomorrow, babe. I promised that I’ll make sure you’re full and dripping once I’m fucking done with you right? Well, I’m not done fucking you yet.”
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phasecornnuts · 6 months
Note
Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that
Please & thanks ❤️
Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3
Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice
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It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats. 
The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.
That is, if it weren’t human meat. 
Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.
“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”
Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,
“I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”
He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”
“No! Her eyes are much too large!”
Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.” 
You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”
For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie���s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies. 
Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned. 
You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”
“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”
“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead. 
“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”
It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking. 
“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased
“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.
You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”
He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer. 
“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.” 
That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”
 “Pardon?”
“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”
“I hardly see how it matters now.” 
Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego? 
He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.
You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off. 
“How did you meet them?”
“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.
“Tch, how common. The trolley.”
You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair. 
Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”
The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had. 
“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.
“I like my alone time.”
 “But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”
“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”
She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space. 
For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”
“Alastor, may I come in?”
A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”
“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.” 
You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”
An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”
Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him. 
“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad. 
Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.
“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him. 
“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you. 
Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.” 
You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you. 
He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.
“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip. 
“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow. 
“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together. 
Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody. 
“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!
“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.” 
You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide. 
“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.
“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”
A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.
Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered. 
“Have me, how?” You teased.
“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred
You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.
“What sorts of things did they do to you?” 
Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things” 
Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”
The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath. 
You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.
Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood. 
Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers. 
“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.
The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again, 
“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.” 
Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.
“Let me show you.”
Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.
You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you’d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again. 
“Al,” You breathed
“What is it?”
“Get on your back.” 
And so he did. 
Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce. 
“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.
“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.
“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.
Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears. 
The last part was what sent him over the edge though. 
“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come. 
Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon. 
Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking. 
“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully. 
“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.” 
A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh. 
“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”
You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.
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mymindcreatedthis · 4 months
Text
Sticky Surprise
Chole Kelly x Reader
18+ content you have been warned!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Smut: Masterbation, Teasing, Language, (Chole Receiving) Rough sex, Unprotected sex, Creampies, blow job, Throat pies, Breeding, dirty talk.
Word count: 3,136
Summary: Chole has been teasing reader all day at practice and is enjoying it. After practice Chole decides to tease reader more and send her nudes. After dinner Chole and reader do Netflix and chill and continue unfinished business.
*Y/n's pov*
Chole has been teasing me all practice. After we got dismissed practice we go to the locker room. I look over and see Chole at her locker she sees me looking. She smiles and slowly strips her clothes as I bite my lip and watch her.
I feel my cheeks burning up. I feel myself getting hard. I grab my towel and cover my bulge. I grab my phone and mess around on my phone. As I'm messing around in my phone I get a text message.
Chole: Are you hard?
Me: No
Chole: yeah sure, I saw the boner before you covered it with your towel.
Me: Of course I'm hard. You're teasing me.
Chole: Aww does someone need a release?
Me: Shut up! I don't need help.
Chole: okay if you say so, here you go so you can rub one out when everyone leaves.
Chole sends me 3 pics. The first pic was of her in her sports bra and panties. She was bending over in front of the mirror. The second one was her spreading her clit with her fingers and was a up close pussy pic. The third was a dildo deep in her pussy. The dildo was covered in cum and her pussy juices.
Me: Fuck your really trying to tease me aren't you?
Chole: Maybe.... is it working?
Me: Yes
I look up from my phone. Chole smirks and winks at me. She grabs her stuff and leaves the locker room. So do the rest of the girls. Soon it's just me left in the locker room.
I grab my towel I take off my boxers and sports bra. I head into the showers, I hang my towel outside the shower.
I start showering, I wash my hair and body and rinse off my hair and body. I start to think about the pics Chole sent me.
I look down and notice I have a massive boner. I grab the bar of soap I rub the soap on my hand, I Put the soap down and wrap my hand around my dick. I slowly stroke my dick as I think about the pics Chole sent me.
God Chole has such a fat ass. I picture myself fucking her and draining my balls deep inside her tight ass and tight pussy. After 5 minutes of jerking off I feel my balls tighten.
I moan and rest my hand against the wall and stroke my dick a bit faster. After 3 more strokes I shoot webs of thick sticky cum all over the wall.
"Ahh fuck." I mutter to myself. I continue jerking off, as the last of my cum shoots and oozes out.
I wash up and turn off the shower. I dry off and get dressed. I grab my things and walk back to the hotel. I got to my room and unlock the door and go into my room.
I set my bag off to the side, i take off my shoes and plop down onto the bed. My phone pings letting me know I have a new message.
Chole: Did those pictures help?
Me: Yes, thank you.
Chole: good, glad I could help.
Me: yup.
Chole: hey after dinner did you wanna hang out. Maybe a little Netflix and Chill.
Me: Yeah for sure, I'm done to hang out after dinner.
Chole: Cool, see you after dinner.
Me: See you then.
I swipe up and turn off my phone. I head to dinner, after dinner me and Chole head back to my room. Mary was hanging out with Lessi in her and Chole's room. I lucked out and had a whole room to myself this camp.
Chole sits on the bed. I sit next to her and grab the remote and turn on the tv.
"Did you wanna watch a movie?" I ask.
Chole smiles and nods. "Yeah we can watch a movie."
"What movie do you wanna watch?" I ask.
"Have you seen below her mouth?" Chole asks.
Chole puts her hand on my lap. Slowly moving her hand up to my crotch.
"N-No I H-Haven't." I stutter.
Chole turns on below her mouth. I couldn't take it anymore. I smash my lips against hers. Chole is surprised at first but then starts kissing back.
I start messing with her shirt, she lifts up her arms. I take her shirts off along with her bra, k lay her back on the bed. I kiss her deeply, I break the kiss. I massage her boobs as I kiss and suck on her neck leaving hickys.
She moans and slips my shirt off and tosses it off to the side. She undoes my sports bra and tosses it off to the side.
I kiss from her neck down to her chest I kiss and suck on her boobs and leave hickys. Chole gasps and moans in pleasure as I do this.
"Mmm fuck." Chole moans.
I kiss her boobs down to her stomach. I kiss and suck on her abs I stop her shorts. I kiss her pussy over her shorts. Chole moans and rubs her fingers through my hair.
I fiddle with the waist band of her shorts and look up at her silently asking for permission, Chole nods. I slide her shorts down her legs and toss them off to the side. I rub her pussy over her panties.
"Mmm fuck." Chole moans.
I smirk. "You're soaking wet baby."
"Mmm all because of you daddy." Chole moans.
I smile, I slide her panties down her legs and toss them off to the side. "Mmm too many clothes." I say.
Chole giggles. "Mmm. You still have yours on love. Take them off." She says
"Mmm take off my shorts and boxers." I say seductively.
I stand up, Chole smirks and crawls to me. She rubs my bulge over my shorts I moan as she does this. She giggles, she kisses and rubs my bulge over my shorts.
"Mmm fuck." I moan.
Chole grabs my shorts by my waist band and slides my shorts and boxers down my legs. My boner springs out her eyes go wide and she giggles.
"Mmm fuck. Your huge baby." Chole says.
"T-Thanks." I say stuttering a bit.
Chole licks my tip and wraps her hand around my dick and slowly strokes my dick, I moan as she does this.
Chole smiles. Once I'm hard she takes my length in her mouth. "Mm so wet and warm." I moan.
Chole hums against my dick and slowly bobs her head. I moan and run my fingers through her hair.
Chole bobs her head a bit faster and massages my balls as she gives me head, I moan in pleasure as she does this. Man she's really a pro at giving head. I don't think I can last much longer with her sucking me off and massaging my balls.
I moan loudly, my legs shake and buckle in pleasure as she bobs her head faster my tip hitting the back of her throat with each bob of her head.
After 10 more minutes of an amazing blowjob I feel myself getting close to cumming. "Ahh Chole. Baby I'm close." I moan in pleasure.
I feel my balls tighten I try to warn her. "Chole I'm go-"
Throat pie:
I can't take it anymore, I bust my load in her mouth. I grab her head and pull her closer shoving my dick down her throat. I moan as I shoot ropes of thick sticky cum down her throat. Chole hums against my dick she was shocked, she chokes and gags a bit as I cum in her mouth.
Chole swallows my load and sucks me dry. She starts choking she taps my thigh I pull my dick out of her mouth. She coughs and gasps trying to catch her breathe, Spit and cum running down her chin and dripping down onto her boobs.
"Ahh fuck that was Amazing." I moan in pleasure.
Chole giggles. I wasn't expecting you to cum in my mouth." She says.
I blush darkly in embarrassment and rub the back of my neck. "I'm S-Sorry."
"Oh no don't apologize it's okay. I don't care if you cum in me. I'm on a pill." Chole says.
"Are you sure?" I ask.
"Yes I'm sure." Chole says.
I smirk and pick her up. She giggles and squeals. I push the tip of my dick in her and slowly sinks down her down on my dick we both moan as she takes my length deep inside her tight pussy.
"Mmm fuck. You're really deep in there." Chole moans.
I rest my head against hers and look deep into her eyes. "So wet and tight." I moan. "I'm gonna destroy your tight pussy slut."
"Yeah daddy?" Chole moans.
"Yeah slut. I'm gonna destroy your pussy and pump you full of cum. I'm gonna drain my balls in you." I moan as I slowly slide her up and down on my dick.
"Mmm I'm your cum slut daddy." Chole moans.
"Mmm you're my cum dumpster slut." I moan as I move her up and down on my dick faster and faster.
"Mmm please daddy turn me into your cum dumpster." Chole moans in pleasure as I move her up and down on my dick a bit harder and faster than before.
"Mmm so fucking good. I don't think I can last to much longer baby. You have amazing grip." I moan in pleasure.
"Mmm fuck yes give me your load." Chole moans in pleasure.
"Yeah your a slut for daddy's cum you want daddy's cum deep inside your tight pussy?" I ask seductively as I slide her up and down on my dick faster and faster than before.
The only sounds in the room was the tv in the background and our moans and my balls slapping against her skin.
"Mmmm fuck daddy I'm close. Ahhh I'm squirting I'm squirting." Chole moans I feel her shake and buckle against me as she squirts all over my dicks,thighs and all over the ground.
"Let go baby. Cum for daddy." I say seductively.
*Chole's pov*
Holy fuck this felt amazing. Y/n was balls deep inside me. God I was so close to cumming and it's only been 10 minutes.
"Let go baby. Cum for daddy." Y/n nips my ear and whispers. Her words made me weak. She was so sexy when she was a Dom
She's really deep in there. Mmmm she feels so fucking good balls deep inside me.
I moan in pleasure as my walls clench around her, I was close to cumming. I couldn't take it anymore, I moan and throw my head back. My eyes roll to the back of my head.
I can't take it anymore and cum all over her dick. Some of my cum drips down her dick.
Me cumming sends Y/n over the edge. Y/n busts her load deep inside me. I gasp and moan as she fills me up with her load.
"Oh my g-god." I moan as she shoots thick ropes of sticky cum deep inside me. I sigh in pleasure as I feel her warm juices oozing inside me.
Y/n Cutely moans in my ear and nips in my ear. Fuck shes still unloading her massive seed deep inside me.
"Mmm fuck, give me all your cum." I moan and dig my nails in her back as she comes down from her high. Cum still oozing inside me.
I moan. "Mmm use your dick and stuff your cum inside me no cum better drip out of my pussy." I sexily moan.
*Y/n's pov*
Creampie #1:
I feel Chole cum all over me, her cumming amends me over the edge. I unload my massive load deep inside her pussy.
We both moan as I stuff her full with my seed. Chole moans and throws her head back her eyes roll to the back of her head as I fill her up with my cum.
"Mmm fuck give me all your cum." Chole moans in pleasure. She digs her nails in my back as I continue to unload my massive seed deep in her pussy.
I moan. Chole moans and looks me deep in the eyes.
"Mmm use your dick and stuff your cum inside me no cum better drip out of my pussy." Chole sexily moans.
I do as she requests I use my dick as a plug and stuff my cum deep inside her making sure no cum drips out.
"Mmm such a cum slut." I moan.
"Heheh and that's only one Creampie daddy. I want more." Choke whispers and nips my ear.
We both moan as I help slide her off my dick. I set her down, Chole smirks and pushes me back onto the bed. I giggle and squeal as I lay flat on the bed.
I lay my head back on the pillow, Chole straddles my lap, she lines my dick back up with her pussy. She pushes the tip in and slowly sinks down onto my dick taking my length back deep inside her cum filled pussy.
"Mmm fuck." I moan.
Chole moans as my dick is back deep inside her pussy. I moan and grab onto her hips, Chole moans and grips the head board.
Chole takes a moment to adjust to my size Chole readjusts she leans back and slides up and down on my dick.
She moans she looks at me and bites her lip. I moan and rub her clit as she rides my dick and buckles her hips.
"Mmm fuck baby." Chole moans.
"Like that baby?" I ask and slap her pussy.
Chole giggles and moans. I smirk and slap her pussy again, she giggles and moans. She slides up and down on my dick faster as she leans back.
"Mmm good girl. Right there just like that." I moan.
"Mmm daddy's dick feels so good deep inside me." Chole moans. I smirk and moan as Chole Slides up and down on my dick faster and harder than before.
"Mmmm fuck." I moan.
Her skin slaps against my thighs as she continues to ride my dick. I moan and slap her pussy, Chole moans and giggles. I rub her clit with my thumb.
Chole moans as I do this. "Ahh I'm gonna squirt daddy."
I smirk and rub her clit with my thumb faster. Chole moans. She squirts all over my abs, dick and lap. She moans, she throws her head back as she rides me dick faster and hard.
"Ahh fuck yes." Chole moans. "Mmmm I feel so full with your dick deep inside my pussy."
I moan, I grab her hips and help her move up and down on my dick faster and harder then before.
Her skin slapping against my thighs we both moan in pleasure. I moan as I feel that all to familiar feeling in my balls.
Creampie#2:
Chole slams her ass down on my dick and cums all over my dick. This sends me over the edge causing me to unload my massive load deep inside her pussy.
Chole gasps and moans as I shoot ropes of thick sticky cum deep inside her pussy. I moan, some of my cum immediately oozes out of her pussy and glazes her folds. Some of the cum coats my dick and drips down her thighs and onto my thighs and abs.
"Stuff it back in daddy." Chole cutely moans.
I moan and nods, I scoop up whatever cum I can and stuff it back inside Choles pussy using my dick as a plug so no more cum oozes out.
Chole moans and sighs in pleasure as I come down from my high, the last of my cum oozing deep inside her.
I come down from my high, Chole gets up and my dick falls from her pussy. Chole moves to the middle off the bed and gets on all fours.
"Got anymore left for one more round daddy?" Chole asks seductively and shakes her ass.
I bite my lip and move behind her. I slide my dick back inside her cum filled pussy. Chole moans as my dick is back deep inside her.
I place my hand on her hip and grab a fist full of her hair and wrap it around my hand. I slowly thrust back and forth.
Chole moans and grips the sheets. "F-Faster daddy."
I spank her ass and pound her pussy from behind faster and faster than before.
"Mmmm I love you spanking my ass." Chole moans.
"Like this?" I question and spank her ass again.
"Harder daddy." Chole moans.
I spank her ass a bit harder than before. "Like that daddy." Chole moans.
I smirk and spank her ass again Chole moans. My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room.
"Fuck...fuck....fuck." Chole squeaks out with each thrust.
I moan and go a bit faster and harder as I pound her pussy from behind.
"Mmm fuck I don't think I'll last much longer." I moan, her walls were clenching around my dick letting me know she was close to cumming.
"Ahh daddy I'm gonna cum." Chole moans.
Chole moans and squirts. I feel her juices on my abs, on my thighs and squirts on the sheets.
My breathing gets heavier letting Chole know that I'm close to cumming.
"Yes... cum in me.... Give me your load." Choke squeaks out with each thrust.
Chole helps me out and slides back and forth in my dick throwing her ass back against me. I moan as I feel that all to familiar feeling in my balls.
Creampie #3:
Chole cums all over my dick sending me over the edge. I can't take it anymore I unload my massive load deep inside her pussy.
Chole moans and grips the sheets as I shout ropes of thick sticky cum deep inside her pussy.
"Mmm yes, just like that daddy. Give me every last drop of your seed." Chole sexily moans.
I moan and slowly thrust back and forth as I come down from my high my cum shooting deep inside her cum filled pussy.
I come down from my high as I fill her up with the last of my cum. I slowly pull out, me and Chole lay in bed and cuddle.
"Y/n?" Chole asks.
I look over at her. "What's up baby?"
"C-Can we sleep with your dick inside me?" Choke asks.
I smile and nod. I slide my dick back inside her cum filled pussy. We cuddles and end up falling asleep naked with me balls deep inside her.
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Text
Straight Into Your Arms
Nanami Kento x Reader
(Song Inspiration: Straight into Your Arms by Vance Joy)
Nanami Kento is a composed man. He is analytical and rational. He remains calm, making him appear stoic and aloof. So, it is always entertaining to watch him become the opposite of who he usually is.
“How long this time?” Shoko asked Gojo.
“Almost two weeks I think,” Gojo answered.
“Eh?! That’s so long! When did she leave?” Gojo chuckled while watching Nanami pace back and forth in the library.
“I think at like 2am? Oi! Nanamin! What time did she leave to America?”
“1am. Her flight left at 3. I think she’s almost there,” Nanami answered. He looked outside the window. The door opened. Geto and Haibara entered the room.
“Business trip again?” Geto asked as he took a seat next to Gojo.
“Yeah,” Gojo and Shoko answered. Haibara took his seat next to Shoko and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“Is she coming back soon?” Haibara asked.
“She’s just about to arrive to America,” Shoko answered.
“And how long is she gone for?” Geto asked.
“Two weeks.”
The four of them continued to watch Nanami pace. To them, it was just like watching an interesting reel over and over again. Gojo checked the time on the wall. It was only a matter of time that Nanami’s cell phone will ring.
Nanami was too focused on you. He hoped that you arrived safely to your destination. He hoped that you will be okay without him. He couldn’t imagine if something dangerous happened to you while you were gone. It’s been almost a day and he can feel himself go crazy. He could care less that his friends were watching him. His pacing stopped. He reached for his ringing cell phone.
“Darling?” he answered, trying to remain as calm as possible. You giggled on the other line. You could hear the slight shakiness to his voice. You were used to it. It was how he would answer your first phone call whenever you arrived to where your business trips were.
“Kento-kun! I’m finally here,” you said. “I’m just waiting for my luggage.” He sighed with relief.
“Okay, I’m glad you got there safely,” he said. “Are you tired? Will you be okay today?” You lightly laughed.
“Kento-kun, will you be okay?” you asked. You were a little worried. He is always protective of you.
“No,” he said, a slight poutines evident in his voice. You blushed. You always found him cute like that. Those around Nanami either awed (Haibara and Shoko) or snickered (Gojo and Geto). Nanami turned to them with a glare, but the four were unfazed.
“I’m going to power through today,” you said. “I’ll buy a bunch of caffeine today.”
“I’ll send you money soon,” he said.
“Kento-kun…” You always told him that you’ll be okay. He even gave you cash for the trip.
“I’ll still do it even if you say no,” he said. “Besides, it’s the only way I could take care of you since you’re the opposite side of the world.” You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet gesture.
“Thank you, love,” you said. “I’ll call you back okay? I think I see my suitcase and then I have to catch a ride to the hotel.”
“Okay, my dear. I love you. Be safe.”
“I love you too, Kento-kun!”
Nanami hung up and finally relaxed. He looked over at his friends who stared at him with wide and curious eyes. It was like that every time you left for a business trip. He becomes out of character and his friends couldn’t help but watch.
“She landed safely,” he informed and sat down to read his paper.
He was pacing again. Nanami wouldn’t let go of his phone. The weather by you was bad with continuous rain and wind due to a tropical storm that was approaching. You called him right before your flight was about to leave. And he was distracted all night and day.
“She’s going to be okay,” Haibara said when he placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Nanami nodded, slowing his pace. “She got to leave a little earlier right?”
“Yeah, but…”
“They could’ve delayed the flight if it was bad,” he said. “She’ll be okay.” Nanami sighed and nodded.
“Wanna go out? I want to buy her some things before I pick her up,” Nanami asked. Haibara smiled.
“Of course!”
Nanami waited patiently inside the airport. He watched people rush to their destination, hug friends and family, and look up and down at their ticket and to where their gate was located. Nanami held a bouquet of flowers in hand and inside the car was your favorite takeout meal and he couldn’t help but buy you a new necklace.
“Kento-kun!!” Nanami looked around for you. He knew he heard your voice. “Over here!” He heard you squeal when he picked you up from the ground and spun you around in his arms. You laughed and hugged him tightly. Almost two weeks without him felt like torture. Torture for the both of you.
“I missed you so much,” he said softly in your ear. Both of your arms tightened around each other.
“I missed you so much too,” you said. He gently put you back on the floor before he cupped your face and kissed you. The kiss was long and passionate. You didn’t want to pull away from his lips and neither did he. But you two had to eventually pull away to breathe.
“Let’s go home. I bought your favorite take out food, we need to put your flowers in a vase, and I bought you a necklace.” You giggled and leaned in to give him a quick kiss.
“Thank you, Kento. Being back with you is the best gift ever.”
“I think I’ll come with you next time,” he said when he took your suitcase. You held the bouquet of flowers in one hand and the two of you held hands out of the airport.
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makeyoumine69 · 11 months
Text
Call Me Babydoll 3
— PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader
— SUMMARY: This game of cat and mouse between you and Patrick continues, and it seems that his patience is thinning. During a very heated makeout session, Patrick finds out about a shameful secret of yours.
— CONTAINS: Smut, Dom Patrick, semi-public masturbation (female receiving), Patrick being an asshole (as always), cursing, use of pet names (babydoll, etc), mentions of food, a little bit of corruption kink, Daddy kink, dry humping, dirty talk, nipple tugging/sucking/biting.
— WORDS: 3.3k
— A/N: Hey guys, thanks a lot for your support and patience! I'm so happy you like my story and I hope you enjoy this chapter too!🤞
— LINKS: [Ch.2]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]; [buy me a coffee]💓
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Your favorite local café welcomed you with the invigorating aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Despite the fact that it was quite crowded tonight, you couldn't stop smiling because you had been dreaming about that delicious cup of cappuccino since the morning.
"I can't believe you dragged me into this shithole," Patrick scowled in disgust, ignoring all the curious glances from the group of women sitting at the table next to the exit. "I was ready for anything but this..."
"You could just send your driver after me if you didn't want to leave Manhattan," you unbuttoned your coat, took it off and casually handed it to Bateman — the poor guy didn't even know how to react, so he just took it and held it over his hand. "Why don't you buy me a cup of coffee? They make a great cappuccino and latte here."
You accompanied your words with a brief lick over your lips that Patrick couldn't miss, his nostrils flaring with heat. With a mischievous smile, you pointed in the direction of display cases full of various desserts like cakes, pies etc. 
"Do you want one?" You asked him, pressing a finger to your lips as you thought about the cake you wanted to try.
"No," he growled, but followed your gaze anyway, staring at the different cakes with a disapproving expression. "I'm on a diet, and I'd advise you to stop eating such junk food since…since your physique is far from good."
No matter how much Patrick tried to mock you, you wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing you affected by his words. You knew your body was not perfect, but you loved yourself anyway because it was your body and anyone who thought otherwise could fuck off.
"Oh yeah, you're right," you glared at him without ceasing to smirk. "But that didn't stop you from pouncing on me the day you visited my father."
"You can think what you want," Bateman replied, looking around with undisguised hostility at everyone who walked past you, especially guys who ogled you. "If it makes you feel better."
It appeared like you could continue this game of trying to cut each other with sharp words forever, but since you were quite hungry, you finally decided what you wanted to try today. Innocently batting your big eyelashes, you suddenly grabbed his hand, shaking noticeably at the size of his palm in comparison to yours, and led him to the barista who was standing on the other side of the counter.
"Hi, how can I help you?" A young girl asked you, her friendly smile widening as she saw Patrick behind your back. 
"I'd like a large cappuccino with a piece of chocolate cake," you murmured before locking eyes with Bateman — the difference in your heights almost forced you to stand on your toes, but as soon as you did, he gently wrapped his arm around your waist and rested his chin on top of your head, making your heart skip a beat. "Pat-Patrick, are you sure you don't want anything?"
"Do you have any whiskey? Scotch, brandy or anything?" He asked, his other hand already fumbling with his black leather wallet.
"Uh, no, sir," the barista replied, a little embarrassed. "But we do have amazing teas…lots of different kinds," the girl hiccuped when she saw Patrick's hand shamelessly tracing up to your breast, squeezing it through the soft fabric of your long sleeve, and you didn't even make a sound or try to push his hand away. "W-we also have juices..."
"Mhm, juices sound good to me," the undertone in his words set your body on fire and you couldn't fucking believe he was doing it right in front of the poor barista in the fucking café. "Do you have the orange juice? Is it fresh? I love fresh juice, it tastes so delicious."
Holy shit.
"Yes! Yes, of course we have orange juice," she started to dial on the cashier, her cheeks turning red by the second. "So a cappuccino, a piece of chocolate cake and a glass of juice?"
"That's right." You confirmed in a shaky voice and gently covered Patrick's hand to bring it back to your waist. 
Bateman didn't wait for the barista to say how much they should have paid, he just offered her a hundred dollar bill with a charming smile. "Keep the change, baby." He winked at her, watching your reaction from a distance, but you remained still. "Uh, thank you, sir. Please take a seat, I'll bring you your order."
At first, you thought you'd have to persuade Patrick to sit at a table, but to your surprise he didn't even say anything, just followed you until you chose the place you liked. In a few minutes, your coffee was in your hand and your mood brightened with the first sip of your favorite drink.
"Well, that barista is the only good thing about this shitty place," he grumbled, taking his drink and swiveling it in his hand to see the liquid splashing against the edges of the glass. "I hope I don't die trying this."
With that, he sipped the orange juice and looked over your shoulder to see some random girls at the table next to yours, gossiping and occasionally looking at you.
"This cake is amazing," you smiled as you took a bite. "Are you sure you don't want some?"
Your calm demeanor was oddly irritating to him, and Bateman just growled in reply before setting his glass back on the table with a thud. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Yes," your tongue slipped along the fork, and you almost moaned with pleasure, this cake was so damn yummy. "Did I…miss something?"
"You did," Patrick suddenly took the cigar and the silver lighter out of his jacket pocket. "One thing I don't understand. Why do you visit such places, since your father is not a poor man?"
Frowning, you quickly cleared your throat before answering. "What does that have to do with my dad?" 
Patrick opened the lighter with a click and wrapped his lips around the cigar, twisting it nonchalantly before lighting it. "In this world," he paused, blowing several rings of smoke. "Money is power."
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, suddenly losing all appetite. "Oh, please, don't lecture me. I have a job and I don't need anyone to give me money. Believe me."
"I see."
"Money is just a tool," you explained, his walnut eyes never straying from yours. "With which you can build something that can make you happy. But money itself cannot make you happy."
"What an interesting hypothesis," Bateman replied sarcastically, and then, puffing on his cigar, he reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small, soft box. "Here, I have something for you."
How primitive and obvious — you thought, but curiosity took over, and you quickly grabbed the box to open it. To your surprise, there was a beautiful pen with a color that reminded you of white gold.
"Oh," an unexpected chill swept over you like a bucket of cold water. "This is such a beautiful pen. But…but how did you…?" You took the pen in your hand, enjoying the pleasant touch of cool metal. "...my Dad told you this too?"
"What? That you wanted to be a writer and publish your own book?" He chuckled and put the cigar in the ashtray. "Well, he told me that you work in a publishing house, so I made some theories about your job and I thought you should at least have a good pen."
"At least?"
With a smug grin, he tilted his head to the side and ran his finger along the top of your hand holding a pen. "Do you like it?"
Embarrassed, you swallowed a lump in your throat and looked up at his arrogant face.
Damn it! Of course you like it, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't.
"Yes, Patrick," his name falling from your lips sounded like music to his ears. "This pen is amazing, really. I've never had a pen like this before!" You rumbled like a child who got a toy he dreamed about. "Can I try it?"
Bateman couldn't help but giggle and squeezed your hand a little before pulling away. "Sure, go ahead."
You didn't hesitate to take out your notebook, set it down on the table next to your coffee, and opened it to the last page you'd written. Carefully, you picked up the pen again and began to write. 
"I wonder what you girls write about in your diaries," he chirped with a boyish smile, rubbing his neck just above the mole. "Always wondered."
"It's not a diary, it's the notebook I use for my work," as you lifted your eyes to him, you noticed how relaxed and comforted Patrick looked now, casual even. "But I do have a diary…it helped me a lot during my darkest days."
There was a brief pause between the two of you after your words. Bateman wasn't in a hurry to resume the conversation, instead he continued to smoke, glancing at the window from time to time.
"The rain could start at any moment, if you don't want to get wet," he paused and a nervous laugh escaped from his chest. "I mean, if you don't want to get your clothes wet, we'd better go home soon."
Oh my God, why was he so fucking unbearable?
"Okay, just a minute," you admired your handwriting for a moment before rolling up your sleeves to make yourself more comfortable. "I'm shocked at how this pen fits in my hand."
Patrick's eyes narrowed as he saw the beautiful tattoo on your forearm. "I never knew you had a tattoo."
"Really?" You pressed the tip of the pen to the corner of your lips and threw one leg over the other. "That's not the only tattoo I have," you could see the interested glint in his brown eyes, so you decided to continue. "Have you at least noticed my nose ring?"
"I'm trying to pretend you don't have it," he urged, putting his cigar out on the ashtray. "To be honest, tattoos and piercings and stuff like that are not…my thing."
That was not surprising, so you just hummed and continued writing. "Yeah, I know guys like you only date blonde bimbos with fake tits."
Bateman chuckled softly at your words. "Oh, Babydoll, you don't have to be jealous. It's just that high society women don't spoil their perfect bodies with stuff like that." He pointed at your tattooed forearm before standing up to put on his coat. "'C'mon, it's getting late, and I've got a lot of things to do."
"Like what?"
"This," he paused as he buttoned his coat. "It's none of your business, sweetheart."
"'Mmm, your poor girlfriend is probably waiting for you," you clicked your tongue before tucking the notebook into your bag. "Just don't tell her you were here with me, or she won't let you cross the threshold of her apartment again. Patrick Bateman visited the cheap café in Brooklyn. How did it happen?"
Bateman stared at you like a cat ready to pounce, though his face remained straight. "The limo's outside, I'll wait for you there."
No, you were not disappointed, you were furious at how masterfully he thwarted all your attempts to needle him. At the end of the day, he was just treating you like a silly little girl, but you had your own leverage because you knew that he wanted you, that he thirsted for you, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual mask that he always put on when he was in public. Yes, yes. It was a dangerous game to play, but the thrill of the rush was so tempting, the irresistible urge to dive into the abyss of the unknown. It was crazy, and you knew that one day you would burn like a moth flying to the light, and you could only ask yourself — was the game worth the candles?
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Inside the limousine, you couldn't take your eyes off of the beautiful interior; the luxury was almost palpable in the air.
"Is this your first time in a limo?" Bateman asked when he noticed your curious look. 
"Uh, to be honest, I used to ride in pretty expensive cars with Dad, but not the limo," you turned to face him, his side profile looking amazing in the dim light. "And you were probably born for cars like this, right?"
His deep chuckle echoed around the car. Cautiously, Patrick closed the distance between the two of you and placed his warm palm on your knee, stroking it as gently as he could. 
"My family is fabulously wealthy, it's true," he began, turning in your direction, a broad smile forming on his perfectly sculpted face when he noted that you didn't try to remove his hand. "But that doesn't mean it's the only necessary condition to become successful."
"It does," you replied immediately, fidgeting in your seat as his hand slid up along your inner hip. "Because if you are born in such a family — all doors are open for you, you can apply to any college, any university...even if I don't agree that money is happiness, money is, as I said, a key that opens many doors."
"But not yours?" He whispered into your ear, scorching your tender skin.
"W-what?" You hiccuped and sensed your heart pounding against your chest.
For a brief moment, the two of you found yourselves looking into each other's eyes, the surrounding air as hot as if the limousine had suddenly driven around the mouth of a volcano. As Patrick pulled you closer, you understood that the source of this unbearable heat was his body — so strong and huge. In the blink of an eye, your lips locked together in a thirsty kiss, and Bateman immediately parted your mouth wider, sliding his tongue inside to take the lead in this lewd game.
"Mhm," you murmured through the kiss, wrapping your trembling hands around his neck while he worked to undo your coat. "Pat..."
Patrick didn't let you finish whatever you wanted to say because the blazing desire had already consumed his mind, and now it was your turn to get scared. You thought you could play with this man, test his limits and try to provoke him, but now you ended up writhing on the seats of the expensive limousine as his chiseled arms explored your small frame so delightfully, kneading and squeezing in all the right places.
"Ugh, you're so needy," he grabbed your throat possessively, pulling you closer, marking you with his tongue, his lips, his teeth. "You should see yourself, honey," Bateman murmured, alternating between licking your cheek and nibbling your neck. "So innocent, yet so hot, and all for me."
With one swift motion, he removed your coat and forced you to mount him, groping your ass without shame. Right now you didn't care about the driver who might see you doing this, you didn't care about all your stupid attempts to taunt him, because everything ended up exactly as you planned, even if Patrick might think otherwise, but let it be.
Growling in a raspy voice, Patrick lifted your long sleeve to quickly get under your bra and damn it, his mouth felt amazing on your engorged nipple and you couldn't deny that you had been thinking about this sensation all these days since that dirty episode in your bedroom.
"Patrick," you moaned, bringing him closer, his strong tongue swirling around your little tip as he stared at you from under his beautiful lashes. "A-aww, that feels so..."
"Good?" He asked in amusement, unbuttoning his coat. Then he grabbed your hips to make you grind against his hard groin, the friction making you wild. 
"Yes, y-yes." You hitched from the hard slap on your ass. 
"Arrghh, such a nasty Babydoll," Bateman left a painful hickey on your nipple and held you close in his sturdy arms, forcing you to move faster. "Is this what you want, huh? You want Daddy's cock so bad?"
Oh shit.
You wanted to say "yes," but instead you just whimpered against his mouth, not willing to ruin the moment with a confession that you were a virgin. 
"Daddy," you purred suddenly as he cupped your pussy through the tight fabric of your jeans. "Oh God...did I really say that?"
His devilish grin spoke for itself. "That sounded so good," he kissed you hard on the lips before returning to your swollen breasts, his sneaky hand beginning to unzip your jeans with expert ease. "I liked that."
Having said that, Patrick pressed you closer, lifting his hips to meet yours so that your mound rubbed against his fully erected cock, and you could swear to God —  it was so damn huge that your inner muscles were already cramping in pain.
"Babydoll," he crooned in a sweet voice when he noticed you were getting anxious as he slipped his hand inside your pants, outlining your oozing lower lips through your soaked panties. "Fuck, I can smell your arousal in the air."
"Aww!" Your high-pitched wail bounced off the interior of the limo from the sudden touch of his thumb on your bare skin, especially your throbbing clit. "Pat-Patrick...Patrick!"
"Shhhh, honey," he cooed to you, his voice laced with pure passion. "Daddy knows what he's doing...mmm...gonna make you feel so good."
Paralyzed by the new sensations, you arched your back into his face, letting him take your hard peak into his mouth once again, while his thin fingers rubbed invisible semi-circles into your bundle of nerves, smearing your flavor around your folds. 
"Good girl...you're so good for me," he praised you between sucks on your nipples, watching you tremble on top of him. "Let it go, Babydoll, I know you want it."
Fucking hell! How in the world did this man manage to treat you so right, as if he played you like his favorite musical instrument, knowing exactly where to press.
"Daddy," you couldn't even hear your own voice, and you didn't realize that you instinctively started to hump his hand, allowing the blissful rapture to wash over you at any moment. "I—I…! This is so good—I…!"
"I know, I know," Patrick brought you closer, gently kissing your collarbone and increasing the intensity of his rubbing motions. "You're literally riding my fucking hand," he groaned, watching you throw your head back, and then he could feel your whole body shaking so violently that he had to hold you to keep you from falling. " Just like that, Babydoll, just like that."
A soothing touch on your lower back seemed to have the opposite effect, fueling your orgasm, you screamed loudly, but there was no sound. "P-Patrick...mhm!" You hugged him like a lifeline, burying your nose in his soft brown curls. Everything felt so perfect, but then the sharp pain cut through your body like a flash of lightning as Bateman tried to shove his fingers into your moist cleft, and you even had to claw at your own skin to prevent yourself from crying. "STOP!"
Patrick literally froze and stopped doing everything as he realized that he had just found some resistance with his digits. "What the fuck?"
The limo was still moving, and for a few seconds you both remained silent. Only after almost a minute did you dismount him and get back to your seat, quickly zipping up your jeans and adjusting your top. All the while, Bateman was looking at you with a strange expression that was hard to read — a mixture of shock, irritation and lust.
"(Y/n), talk to me." Patrick raised his voice after cleaning his fingers by licking off your sweet juices. "You're a fucking virgin? And you didn't tell me?"
Yeah, this time you actually fucked things up.
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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teriri-sayes · 11 months
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Reactions to Deal Maker's Chapter 201
TL;DR - Cale gives gifts to the kids. Learns about On and Lily's academy plans. Clopeh offers his sword to Cale. Cale is troubled on how to explain Ahn Roh Man's weeb and gaming terms.
Santa Cale It was the new year already when Cale returned from the Central Plains, so following Korean custom (of the author), everyone turned one year older. Thus, Cale congratulated the three children who were now average ten year olds. 🥰
For the gifts:
Hong - 5 of the 9 treasure poisons of the Tang Clan. It was originally supposed to be 3, but the Tang Clan increased it to 5 to thank their benefactor after Cale's miracle in Hainan Island
On - 30 items he got from the GED, like daggers, elixirs, and so on.
Cale gave something to Sheritt too, but it was not mentioned. As for Raon, he brought a basket of sweets and still-steaming hot dumplings for the kittens and his mom. The author is projecting her dumpling obsession on Raon... 🤣🤣🤣
Academy Arc Because On turned 13, Cale thought of sending her to the academy to gain more life experiences and meet more peers. He thought the wolf children were not enough. But he found out from On and Ron that On had already made plans to attend.
Cale also recalled his younger sister Lily. Ron said that Lily would be attending the academy too, but in a higher grade because she wanted to study military science. Of course, Cale was supportive of Lily's decision. 🥰
Knight Clopeh Half of the chapter was about Clopeh, so I'm really happy! Yes, I'm a huge Clopeh fan. I wanted to translate the entire part about Clopeh, but this is a reaction post, not a translation one, so I'm sorry... 😞
Anyway, Cale asked Clopeh what he wanted to do if he could use the sword again. Clopeh went through some introspection about his past with Cale, and ultimately made a decision. He knelt down on one knee and dedicated his sword to his Cale-nim! 🤩
I really liked this part because it showed how Cale's relationship with Clopeh had greatly changed. From enemies to close allies. Of course, Cale pretended to not care much, but Clopeh knew that Cale did care about him. 😂
Cale had CH give the murim martial arts book to Clopeh. He wanted Clopeh to take HD's role and become stronger too. Also something about how Clopeh would now use his sword to save lives.
After CH and Clopeh left the room, Cale suddenly had a bad feeling. It was not a surprise because at that time, Clopeh was thinking something like, "I can't become a legend. But I will help create that path for my Cale-nim!" 🤣🤣🤣 Oh, Clopeh, this is why I love you~ 🥰
Ahn Roh Man is a Weeb The last part was also funny. Alberu suddenly called Cale because of some "emergency." Turns out, he had talked to Ahn Roh Man and misunderstood several terms the latter used. It all started when Cale told Alberu to mention "The Blue One" to Ahn Roh Man and gauge the latter's reaction.
And Ahn Roh Man's reply confused Alberu.
Ahn Roh Man thought The Blue One was a guy 😂
The two agreed to a "hyunpi", but The Blue One did not show up.
Ahn Roh Man said The Blue One almost spilled his "dark past."
Also said The Blue One caused him quite a considerable crisis (because of the dark past).
Hyunpi is a Korean gaming term. Hyun came from "hyunsil" which means "reality", and Pi came from P of PK (Player Kill). It means when two gamers who are having an online fight/argument get so angry that they agree to meet in real life and settle it there personally (through physical violence). So instead of a meet-and-greet, it's like a "meet-and-fight."
I can't think of an English equivalent to that term. But from what I know, some hyunpi meetings become violent enough that it made headline news in Korea. Gamers in Korea are just on a different level...
As for "dark past", it's an East Asian slang. It refers to an adult recalling the shameful, cringe-worthy, and embarrassing things they did in their childhood and teenage years. Most weebs use it to refer to their past as a chuunibyou, but it can also mean the stupid stuff you did as a teen.
So when Ahn Roh Man said he was in a crisis, it was because he was afraid of The Blue One spilling his dark past. 🤣🤣🤣 But Alberu misunderstood that and thought The Blue One was some powerful person who caused the president of a country some serious trouble... 🤣🤣🤣
Even Raon thought the same as Alberu. Cale was shocked in learning that Ahn Roh Man was such a weeb and gamer, and then did a facepalm. Alberu and Raon asking Cale what "hyunpi" and "dark past" meant was so funny. 😂
Cale was troubled on how to explain those terms. And Ron wasn't helping because he suddenly asked Cale if he wanted some lemonade. 😂
Ending Remarks Next chapter will probably be Cale explaining those terms to the Roan residents. And hopefully, Cale's talk with Ron. Cale was actually troubled today on how to explain about the KRS-Cale stuff to Ron, but Alberu suddenly called, so it got postponed.
But seriously, where are CJS and LSH? They still haven't been mentioned! Mary and the half-blood dragon were mentioned to be training together, but what about the Soos? What happened to them? What about Toonka and Durst?
And because today is the 1000th chapter of TCF, our author wrote another Author's Note:
Author's Note Greetings. Today, this Yoo Ryeo Han is sending greetings to commemorate the 1000th chapter. Oh my goodness, one thousand! A thousand! Actually, I still can't quite believe it. I still clearly recall the emotions I felt when the prologue and first chapter were posted. However, I have mixed feelings when I hear that it has already reached chapter 1000. Above all, I am truly grateful. Thank you for joining us. I will continue to write diligently. Hmm… Hmm… Hmm… Chapter 2000… I probably won't give greetings again, right? Hehe Well, once again, thank you very much! -Yoo Ryeo Han
Please, NO. DON'T MAKE IT REACH CHAPTER 2OOO, YRH-NIM! I love TCF, but 1000 more chapters are too much! 😭
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vodika-vibes · 7 months
Note
Can you write a Crosshair x reader and him with his shaky hands like we saw in season 3 and maybe reader comforting him...
For The Love Of A Bounty Hunter
Summary: Crosshair goes missing while dealing with your family. You have opinions about it.
Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Bounty Hunter Reader
Word Count: 1919
Warnings: Mentions of torture
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: I decided to make this story a sequel to one of my Event Fics, I'll add the link so people can find it easily. Also, there are no spoilers here, because I haven't watched TBB at all. ^-^
For The Love Of A Sniper - Part 1 of this Mini Series
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You stare, blankly, at the calendar on the datapad in front of you as you draw another red X over another day.
Three weeks.
It’s been three weeks since Crosshair went to deal with the PI who was looking into you on behalf of your family. Three weeks since he vanished.
You carefully set the datapad down on the table and release a shaky breath. Carefully shoving the burning rage down, for now.
Crosshair would sooner cut his own hands off than betray you. You know this. You know him. He would never tell your parents where you are. And, the fact that they haven’t shown up at your ship, is proof enough that Crosshair didn’t tell them anything.
The bigger question is, is Crosshair still alive.
Stars, you hope so. You’re not sure the galaxy will survive your rage if he isn’t. You’re not sure you’ll survive your rage if he isn’t.
You jerked out of your thoughts when your holo chimes. 
For a moment you consider ignoring it, you’re not in the mood for chatting. But, in the end, you cross the room and hit the button to answer the holo, “I’m not accepting any jobs at the moment.” You say bluntly.
“It is me.” Tech’s image flickers to life above the holo, “I have the information you asked for.”
You blink, “Oh. Sorry.”
“No harm done, I know that you are stressed.” He looks down at his datapad, “I am sending you the information I have.”
You pick your datapad back up as it chimes with the information he sent you. “Are you sure this is accurate?” You ask, as you see the information, “Last I heard the people who took him are wealthy.”
Tech sniffs, “Very sure. According to what I have found, they used to be wealthy. But then spent most of their fortune looking for their missing child.” He pauses, “That would be you, I am guessing.”
“Right in one, Tech.” You reply with a grimace.
“I am sure you had your reasons.” Tech says after a moment, “If Crosshair is anywhere, it is there.”
You scan the image that Tech sent you. Figures, it would be your childhood house. Not home. Never home. “Thanks Tech.”
“You are welcome.” He pauses, “Are you quite sure that you do not require aid? We can be there in a couple of days.”
“I have it.”
“They are your family.”
“Not all families are created equal, Tech. And this,” You hold up the datapad, "has been a long time coming.”
Tech sighs, “Comm when you have him back. And if you should think that you need our help-”
“I’ll be sure to let you know. Thanks for the intel, Tech. I mean it.”
“You do not have to thank me. Crosshair is my twin brother. I want him safe just as much as you do.”
“Even so. I know you’re not my biggest fan.”
Tech is quiet for a moment, “I will concede that, perhaps, I was too quick to judge.”
“Yeah, well…so was I. Water under the bridge.”
Tech smiles at you, a small smile, but a smile all the same, “I think I am beginning to see what Crosshair sees in you. Happy hunting.”
You flash a small smirk, “Yeah. Right back at you.” And then you kill the holo. You look back at the datapad, and swipe through the information.
“Hold on, Cross. I’ll be there soon.” You whisper to the empty ship.
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“It’s a simple thing,” Crosshair rolls his eyes at the massive Devaronian looming over him, “All you have to do is tell us where the little mistress is.”
“I told you the truth weeks ago,” He drawls, “I can’t help you.” He grunts in pain as a large fist slams into his stomach, “Kriff-”
“Mistress,” The guard says with a frown, “I’m beginning to think that he’s telling the truth.”
‘Mistress’ is a slender woman with white blonde hair and piercing green eyes. Though slender isn’t really the right word. Crosshair would personally call her skeletal, but the first time he asked how they managed to make a corpse walk and talk, he was electrocuted, so he’s learned to hold his tongue.
“He has to know,” The woman’s voice is cold. “Why else would he have gone to the PI?”
“Because you’re offering a hell of a lot of credits, lady.” Crosshair lies.
“You do not speak to the Mistress,” The guard snaps, taking a menacing step towards Crosshair.
“No. Leave him. I tire of this.” The woman says, before she turns to the side, “What do you think, darling.”
‘Darling’ is her husband. Just as thin and skeletal as his white, though his hair is more of a golden blonde than the silvery blonde of his wife. If Crosshair had to guess, one of them bleaches their hair, though which one isn’t something he cares about.
He’s also crueler than his wife. 
Crosshair will likely have scars from the stun batons that ‘Darling’ used against him. If he hates ‘Mistress’, then Crosshair absolutely despises ‘Darling’. How either of these people could parent someone like his Princess is beyond him. Maybe she’s adopted.
He glances to the side when the door to the dungeons slams open and a trembling twi’lek hurries his, “Master! Mistress!” He gasps, “The Little Mistress is here.”
The room falls silent, “Are you quite sure?” The Mistress asks. 
“Yes ma’am,” The Twi’lek bobs into a bow, “She consented to a DNA scan. It’s her. Would you like me to bring her down?”
“No, we’ll-”
The door slams open again, “No need. I thought I’d come and say hello.”
Crosshair has always thought that his Princess is stunning, but seeing her standing in the doorway, clad in tight leather, and with her short hair falling into her eyes…she looks like an avenging angel and he’s never been more attracted to her in his life.
Impressive, since he can hardly keep his hands to himself as it is.
“Sweetheart!” The Mistress takes half a step towards her, “Your hair…your face! Why are you so fat?”
Princess closes her eyes for a moment, and then she turns and blatantly ignores everyone in the room, “Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, and for a moment, Crosshair can pretend that they’re on the ship and it’s just them. 
He slides his arms through the bars of the cell, and holds out his trembling hands, “Better, since you’re here.”
Her sharp eyes linger on his trembling hands, on the burn marks on his arms, chest, and stomach. Her gaze lingers on the bruises covering his face and his torso.
And her eyes go cold.
“Sweetling, why are you talking to that-” His Princess’ father says as he takes a step towards her, reaching out to touch her. 
There’s a flash of silver, only noticed because he was looking for it, and then there’s screaming as ‘Darling’ falls back, clutching his blood soaked arm. His Princess carefully uses a cloth to wipe the blood off the blade. 
“You took Crosshair.” Her voice is flat, emotionless. 
She’s clearly pissed.
“You know,” She continues, some emotion returning to her voice, and she directs her comment towards him, “I really only considered two options when coming here.”
“Oh yeah?” Cross asks as he leans against the bars.
“Hm. Option 1, they took you and killed you.” She continues lightly, “And if that was the case I was going to kill them all, burn this place to the ground, and then throw myself at the Empire until they managed to kill me.”
“Dramatic.”
She shrugs a single shoulder, “Option 2, is that they took you and were using you as bait to make me come here. In this scenario, you were uninjured, just annoyed, and I just threatened great bodily harm and we carried on our way.”
She casts her gaze over him again, “Somehow,” She continues, “The idea that they might torture you never crossed my mind.”
“They are still your family, Princess. I’m not gonna blame you for not wanting to believe the worst of them.” Crosshair says lazily.
She turns to the cell door and effortlessly picks the lock and swings the door open, “Well, you’re the injured party, Cross. What do you want?”
“You have a blaster?”
She smiles and wordlessly passes it to him.
Even with nerve damage, and trembling hands, he’s still the best. 
Three shots. Three blaster rounds. 
Three dead bodies. 
His Princess takes the blaster back and slides it in her holster, before she helps him with a shirt she brought him, “Are you ready to go?” She asks.
“More than ready.” He leans against her, needing her support to make it back to the ship, “Let’s get out of here.”
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A week later, you step into the bedroom on your ship, your gaze lingering on Crosshair. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, glaring at his shaking hands. Nerve damage takes weeks to heal, even with bacta.
His hands will be shaking for a while.
Maybe you’ll take Tech up on that offer for a 3 month long vacation on Pabu.
But first-
You enter the room and kneel in front of him, taking both of his hands in yours and pressing light kisses against the palms of his hands. “Do they hurt?” You ask.
“It’s mostly just an ache,” He admits, bitterly, “I’m not going to be able to-”
“Shh,” You release one of his hands and reach up to cup his cheek, “Crosshair, your only responsibility right now is to heal.”
He scowls at you, though you know he’s more annoyed at the situation than at you. “I feel useless.”
“Nonsense. You could never be useless.”
“You’re biased.”
“Mm, perhaps. A little.” You stand and settle on the bed next to him, “But I’m also honest. You will heal. You will get back to 100%. It just takes time.”
He scoffs.
“Don’t be like that.” You say as you lay your head on his shoulder, “After that Wookie broke my leg in three places, you didn’t accuse me of being a burden or of being useless, even though I felt like I was.”
Crosshair shakes his head, and then leans his head against yours, “You gonna use my words against me?”
“If I have to.”
He huffs out a laugh, “I suppose you did pay for the best doctors to see me.” 
“Yes, I did.” You reply smugly.
“Alright.” He turns to look at you properly, “I’ll be patient.”
“You’re a sniper, patience is your thing.” You tease him, throwing his words back at him.
His arms, strong and steady, hook around you and he pulls you onto his lap, “Yeah, yeah.” Crosshair leans in and kisses you hungrily, nipping at your lower lip roughly enough that you squeak, “So. You gonna tell me what you and Tech have been talking about?”
“...he’s invited us to come to Pabu until you finish recovery. I’m thinking that agreeing might be a good idea.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, “If you think it’s a good idea, Princess, then I won’t argue. But I refuse to stay with my siblings.”
“Of course not, we’ll be staying here or in an inn.” You brush your fingers across his cheek, “I’ll go let him know.”
Crosshair tightens his grip around you, “You can tell him later. I want you for myself right now.”
You beam at him, “I think that sounds like a great idea.”
91 notes · View notes
colormepurplex2 · 2 years
Text
Chasing Shadows | JJK
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▻ Chasing Shadows ↳  Jungkook x f.Reader ⤜ Modern Day Sherlock Holmes AU ⤜ Best Friends Brother/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 21,511 ⤜ Summary: Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PIs around.
With more at stake than ever before, what lengths will you go to in order to connect the dots and catch the bad guy?
⚠️ Death threats, breaking and entering, descriptions of violence, stalker behavior, talk of crime/criminals, oral f receiving, vaginal fingering, protected sex, nipple play, dirty talk, imagery that reflects choking but isn’t, guns, lots of foul language, scare tactics, talk of car accident from drunk driving, minor injury, mention of blood/wound, allusion to mild depression/self-reflection
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Chapter 1: Cat & Mouse
Chapter 2: Hide & Seek
Chapter 3: Pause & Relax
Chapter 4: Crime & Punishment
This story is complete.
Part of the Bangtan Writers HQ 2022 “Christmas Love” Secret Santa Writing Event. Written for @hisunshiine 💜 A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @jessikahathaway​ for beta’ing, keeping me on track, and helping make this come to life \(0^◇^0)/
Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad
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◅ Back to Master List ©️      2022    ColorMePurplex2  
501 notes · View notes
Note
scenario where the gang visits a well known bakery in one of the nest that is owned by reader? i thought itd be really cute for the secretly sweet-toothed sinners to snag a few more and chatter with bakery owner reader! (3
( specifically where little charon gets to talk about her insight about the sweets ? )
A little bit longer than my usual so it goes under the cut
It's rare for the bus crew to stop by at pleasant places. When they do, one can assume that misfortune is soon to befall the location where they're parked by. This time, it isn't like that. It's an opportunity of a lifetime.
They stop by a bakery that's become famous all across the city recently. The lines outside are lengthy and so are the wait times. For today though, they're getting VIP treatment for having dealt with a distortion in that same district.
Rodion stuffs her cheeks full of cupcakes, while Don Quixote eats as many brownies as she can. The other sinners are busy with pies, pastries and cakes of all types and flavors. The inside of the shop looks like a mess.
Vergilius stands besides a happy Charon, who has a box full of donuts of different colors.
"Soft and chewy... Charon quite likes these." She says. "Charon wants the brownies next, Vergie.
Even Vergilius, who always looks annoyed or angry at something or another, seems to be relaxed.
"Prepare your best sweets." Vergilius commands to the shop owner, and then says to Charon, "If you like these donuts, then we'll take a few more boxes."
"You're sharing these with us, right Vergie?" Rodion playfully asks from the other side of the shop.
Vergilius ignores her.
"These are almost the same quality as the gold-sprinkles cake my family commissioned once!" Hong Lu chirps as he chews on a piece of cake, "Although there is no gold over the frosting, I think that's what makes it so delectable!"
"Thank you...?" The owner smiles politely at him.
"I don't know what you put in this cream puff but it tastes great." Gregor comments.
"Ah that's actually a family recipe-" The owner begins to say, but Don Quixote's shrill voice interrupts them.
"This is a meal worthy of heroes!" She begins to speak, "Much like- mhmmph?!"
Rodion stuffs her mouth with another cupcake.
"You have to try these, chiquita!" She giggles then winks at the shop owner.
Yi Sang and Faust are locked in a conversation that is barely understandable, nodding along as they try different pastries. Sinclair is not too far from Ryoshu, who's quietly enjoying her desserts. They both seem to be in good spirits. Heathcliff and Ishmael are farther from the group, happy to stay out of trouble for the moment. Meursault browses the selection of pies with a thoughtful expression, while Outis checks the menu and takes notes in a notepad.
The shop owner did say they could take whatever they wanted, but now they start worrying that their stock will be completely depleted. They feel a soft tap on their shoulder and look around to see themself face to face with a person who had an unusual head prosthetic. They heard that was the group's manager.
They handed them a handwritten note. The shop owner took it and read what it said.
< Thank you for your generosity. My subordinates are quite lively at times, and they eat a lot. Please send the bill to the company. >
"Ah, no problem!" They reply with a shy smile, "I made these with love and care, so it's nice seeing others enjoy my food this much! Besides, you're all heroes. I wanted to show my gratitude."
The manager writes another note and hands it over to them.
< You are very kind, thank you. >
They nod with a bright smile.
28 notes · View notes
thatmexisaurusrex · 2 months
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Make Me Write Monday!
I was tagged by @lavenderleahy. You're such a sweetie, thank you 🥰
Rules: Send me an emoji (ask) corresponding to the WIP and I'll write 3 sentences for each emoji and share it. My WIPS are below:
🔥 - My Current Buck 1.0/118!Tommy fic, The First Evan
🤠 - BuckTommy Cowboy AU based on @moeyoon's fantastic art
🚒 - BuckTommy Arrive on Same Scene fic inspired by this post made by @defective-4068
🍽 - BuckTommy Fight/Makeup fic
💎 - Sam PI/Bucky Art Thief AU
🧹 - Sam Wilson Witch AU with SamNat, SamSteve, and SamBucky
📒 - The Wedding Planner SamRiley AU
🚿 - Author!Sam/Neighbor with a Bad Singing Voice!Bucky AU
No Pressure tagging uhhhhh let's see 🤔 @abarbaricyalp @plantswithme @funsized-loser @jemgirl86 @exbex @siancore @six2vii
Annnnnd some people who might not know me but I see you around so I hope it's okay I tag you - @firewasabeast @kinard-buckley @kinardsevan @alilypea @evansboyfriend
20 notes · View notes
k-hotchoisan · 3 months
Note
hiiiii <333 I have lovedddd lovvvveeeddd alll of your works I actually spent my day reading each and everyone of them I love it so muchhh!! 😭❤️
I have a request teehee, could you write one where Sannie is like a professor in your college and there’s little teasing here and there and where he ends up having her alas!! DOM - SAN ‼️💋
his favourite
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<prof!san x fem!reader>
Prof Choi likes playing favourites.
You’re his favourite.
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Genres/Warnings: smut, dom professor Choi San, pwp, face fucking, unprotected sex, oral (m receive) ,mutual pining, age gap, size kink, cream pies, mild jealousy plot, sir kink, light bondage (just tying up reader) teasing, sexual tension, teaching assistantxteacher obv forbidden but we still eat it up anyway!
Word count: 12.3K
a/n: happy birthday to the man of my dreams </3 enjoy this little choi san birthday treat. i put my love into this so please love this as much as i did! and thank you @bro-atz for the tidbits of help as always 🩷
apply for taglist here!
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You stare at the laptop screen, scanning through your details on the application form, double, and triple checking that everything was filled in correctly. 
“Which professors are you trying as a teaching assistant for?” Your roommate asks, her neck craning over to see you attaching the file to six different emails, to six different professors within the department, pretty much answering her question the moment she reads off each professor’s email. 
“Why not try for the department chair?”
You scrunch your eyebrows as if it’s the first time you’re hearing that. 
“Who?”
“Professor Choi?”
Your eyes widen, your neck almost getting whiplash from how fast you turned to your roommate at the sound of his name. 
“Why the fuck would I try him?” 
Your roommate shrugs in an attempt to hide her amused reaction from your reaction at his name. 
“Who knows? I’m confident he remembers you even though you spent only one semester with him”, she hums turning away to pour herself another ice drink from the pitcher. “On a serious note, you may as well just get all the help you can get. Besides, what are the chances that Prof Choi sees your email? He’s the department chair. I’m sure his mailbox is just flooded anyway.” 
True, you think to yourself, turning your head back to your laptop, and adding the professor’s email address in. But you still hesitate, staring at the application form, your cursor hovering over the send button. Your roommate looks over at you, and she decides that your wishy-washy behaviour is just being the biggest nuisance on earth, so her hand flies over yours and helps you to press send, and she watches you freak out at her while she giggles and escapes after committing her crime, chasing your roommate around the kitchen island for a good seven minutes.
Settling back down in defeat, you sigh in your hands, giving yourself pep talks. 
Right. 
The chances are close to zero that Prof Choi will see my application anyway. 
The chances of him remembering me are close to zero anyway. 
You shut your laptop, and the applications are completely erased from your mind. 
“Yo, check your emails, babe. The application results are out for me”, your roommate says, her eyes glued to her laptop screen. 
You settle yourself down across her, a chilled drink in your hand, pulling up your email inbox. As you expected, you see the subject headline ‘Teaching Assistant Application Results’, and you expand the email.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you mutter, loud enough for your roommate to hear. Her head pops out from behind her screen. 
“Who did you get?”
“Choi San.”
Professor Choi San. His classes weren’t the bane of your existence—but he, himself was. 
And the fact that it only took one semester to solidify that claim. Almost everyone wanted to get into his class, so fucking many of them just squealing over how he looked almost god-like. You wonder how much of a swoon he would be, how much of the rumours that travelled down the stream were factual, though with thousands of students constantly fighting for a spot in his class, you sure were coloured surprised when you landed a spot in Professor Choi’s class. 
The moment he walked in, the whispers within the confines of the lecture hall erupted into gasps and squeals. Unfortunately, the rumours were right—the moment ProfessorChoi walked in, it was as if your eyes naturally followed his movement—confident strides in his steps dictated by his outfit—a simple dress shirt under a dark gray vest that accentuated his wide shoulders and skinny waist.  
He was so fucking handsome—his hair neatly slicked back, frameless glasses sat on his nose bridge, his sharp and small eyes hiding behind the lens. Undoubtedly, seeds of infatuation began lodging themselves in you. Well, it’s not like you had a chance with him anyway, especially when the gold band reflected from his ring finger being a huge indicator. Maybe keeping him as an eye candy would work out just fine. 
Prof Choi’s classes were interesting, and he as a professor, other than being a distraction during the majority of his classes, held his credentials. However, at times, some sarcastic comments would bubble to the surface, and even though he did tend to commend top-scoring students for tests, he still maintained professionalism for the most part—the content taught wasn’t rocket science anyway. You saw yourself being able to breeze through the syllabus for the most part until you received your grade for one of your essays. You stared at his comments, marked in red lines, circles, and words—tone cold and direct—not that you weren’t used to it, but this time? You felt his comments alongside him marking you down were completely unjustified. 
It was then that you pushed past the group of girls who would stay back after class to shamelessly flirt with him, under the guise of wanting to discuss more about the content taught that day, and you stood before the group, asking to speak to Prof Choi personally. Prof Choi did have people staying back after class to consult with him about grades, although they would stay shortly with him staying stern to his marking rubrics, but when he realised you weren’t backing down on top of the way you approached him so directly, it intrigued him.
His office was spacious, considering that he was the department chair—and without introductions, he had you dive in immediately in consultation. 
You wasted no time, flipping through the spent pages of your essay, pointing out areas where you felt his comments were unjustified. Prof Choi listened, and he refuted your points, some of which you decided to accept but not for one particular part;
“This part had no proper scientific support of your argument for this point-“
“Bullshit”, you cut him off. Prof Choi blinked, shocked at the blunt cut from you. His eyebrows were scrunched in confusion next, wondering if he heard right that a student not only just cut him off, but cussed at him.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s here. A small significance value is still something isn’t it?” You replied, pointing at the paragraph after. He glanced at the paper once more, forcing himself to focus while you fought back that your argument was supported. 
So you made Prof Choi sit before you and listen to your elaborations, and needless to say, he was rather impressed, although he had to hold his expression neutral. 
You came out of the consultation victorious—the day Prof Choi called you over after his class again, handing you your script, and you saw your total marks shooting up to a gorgeous score. Your head was so into the clouds that you returned a smirk along with a shrug—showing off your victory and satisfaction as your thanks—an I told you so, leaving the professor to stare after you in awe while you practically skipped to your seat. 
That sealed your fate. 
From then on, Prof Choi would have his attention on you—recognising which seat you picked to sit in in class, wondering why you hadn’t dared sit nearer. And when it came to picking people to answer questions, his gaze would fly to you immediately—either waiting to call you out once you raised your hand or simply calling you when he felt like it. For some sick reason, he finds the way your face scrunches up in stress when he calls your name in his honey-soaked voice amusing, and even adorable at times, though he would never admit it. But oh, did he love the comments and answers you would give him. 
Despite that assignment being the only one where you decided to consult Prof Choi, following every grade release of an assignment, he would single you out, especially after class, to fucking ask if you had questions regarding said assignment, which honestly started to freak you out—mostly because he never gave you the attention before, and you weren’t used to it. The whispering gossip in the class about you being the teacher’s pet slowly reached your ears too, and even Prof Choi heard it—and he only exacerbated that rumours by constantly giving you his attention. 
Every time you reached your dorm, the words that left your mouth which your roommate could recite verbatim, “I swear to god, Prof Choi has it out for me!”
Not to mention you were fucking relieved when the last day of his class rolled around, but unfortunately, his parting words to you were, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, y/n”. You did everything in your power to avoid getting into his class and even bumping into him, which seemed to work swell. 
Until now that is. 
Now here you are again, standing before the familiar heavy wooden door, staring up at the wooden plate, embossed with gold lettering “Department Chair Choi San” staring right at you. You had to physically drag yourself off your bed to prepare for the first day partnered with Prof Choi. And when your roommate’s words of “oh come on, he can’t be that bad. He’s hot!”, echoed through your ears, it all the more made you want to just ditch your first day by clawing your eyeballs out. 
You had to collect yourself before Prof Choi collected you. 
With a raised knuckle, you rap against the door, taking deep inhales in the process. His voice, which sounded deceivingly like honey, remained the same as you remembered. 
“Come in.”
You pause for a moment, embracing yourself before holding onto to doorknob and pushing his door open. 
There he was, Professor Choi, his eyes focused on the scripts on his desk, which had piled up. His space remained the same as you remembered, for the most part—shelves littered with awards and files, the same desktop taking up one-quarter of his huge ass desk, and the couch with the coffee table left to the side of the room. Prof Choi wore a stern look of concentration on his face, still preoccupied with finishing up marking his scripts. 
When his pen pauses and his gaze shifts towards the door, a small smile spreads across his face. He lifts his head and drops his pen, interlocking his fingers on his desk with growing amusement when his eyes meet yours. 
Fuck, he’s still so handsome.
“Professor Choi”, you greet, holding your expression neutral as you bow, forcing yourself not to fidget with your tote bag. 
“Y/n!” Prof Choi greets almost too enthusiastically. “I would assume you would be more than delighted when I picked you to be my teaching assistant.”
“Honoured, almost”, you reply. It’s taking all of your energy not to break his gaze. He’s staring at you with unreadable eyes, and you’re wondering if the fluttering in your chest is from the anxiety or the way Prof Choi is staring at you.
Prof Choi laughs, and it tickles your ears a little too good. 
“Sit. We have a lot to go through today”, he gestures to the seat before him, and you take it.
He switches on his monitor to his course syllabus and turns the monitor slightly towards you. 
“Oh, before we begin, it’s a pleasure meeting you again, y/n.”
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Oh boy, was being Prof Choi’s teaching assistant a fucking handful. You knew it was gonna be rough, but to be assisting Professor Choi San? He was on another level—his schedule would be filled to the brim with meetings with the faculty on top of conducting classes weekly. You struggled in your first month, learning the ropes, especially from a busy and challenging professor like him. He wasn’t mean or cold at all, on the contrary, more direct and meticulous. Well, he had to be, considering his position. Nonetheless, it felt like he was always too busy to attend to your questions sometimes, and that would leave you to your own devices. 
You stand in the aisle, looking down at the assortment of foods lined up in the chiller. Has Prof eaten yet? Does he even eat? What does he even eat? By instinct, you pull out your phone and open his chat. 
[you]: Hi Prof. Have you eaten? I’m at the convenience store near the campus. I could grab something quick for you. 
A couple of minutes go by, but your phone doesn’t receive a ping, and you had to reach the office soon. So you pick up another tuna rice ball for the professor alongside yours before making a beeline for the cashier. 
Prof Choi hears the knock on his door and as usual, he utters his usual “come in”. His gaze lands on you, and he glances at the clock. 
“You’re on time today”, he points out. 
You furrow your eyebrows, confused. “I’m always on time, Professor.”
“You’re usually in a little earlier.”
“Right, because I got you this”, you reply, rustling through the plastic bag in your hands, fishing out the rice ball.
He looks up at you, confusion hinted in his expression. He doesn’t take the food yet. 
“What’s this?” 
“Tuna rice ball. Surely only having coffee in the morning is not filling your stomach.” 
You put the food in front of him. “Besides, I messaged you but you didn’t reply. So I just chose something safe. Unless you’re telling me you’re allergic to tuna or something.”
Prof Choi blinks. His hands reach out to take the snack from the desk, unwrapping the plastic packaging as he watches you leave his office to grab a mug of coffee. He glances over at his phone, and sure enough, your name is there with your message.
Since then, his reply would pop up in mere minutes whenever you asked him if he wanted anything to eat. 
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Of course, the more you spent time with him, the more you grew comfortable, and all the thoughts you ever stressed about slowly faded off. Prof Choi grew more relaxed around you, internally grateful that you’re able to tank a significant fraction of his workload for him. Undoubtedly, you also come to realise that Prof Choi is human after all—he obviously would make mistakes, even as someone of his caliber, and deep inside, you found it rather cute, well, until you had to stop yourself from developing deranged thoughts. 
Not to mention, another problem seemed to pop up—his flirty banter. He likely picked up that it made you flustered sometimes, and since then, he wouldn’t let it go, relishing at the way pink creeps up your cheeks when he would say something that wasn’t like his ‘professor-self’, and at worst, feeding into your crooked thoughts. 
You stare at him as he types away, particularly, the metal band around his ring finger. You wonder who was the lucky lady who had the chance to be with him. You blink. 
What the hell were you thinking?
“It’s rude to stare, you know”, Prof Choi’s voice snapping you out of your daydreams. 
“I’m just wondering about your ring, that’s all”, you reply, forcing your attention back to your half-marked assignments.
“I’m not actually married”, he suddenly confesses, and for some reason, it makes your heart beat slightly faster. 
“Huh?” Is all you manage to reply. 
Prof Choi chuckles. He pauses his work on the desktop, turning his attention to you. Even though you have worked so closely with him for a while already, you can never seem to find your composure around him. 
Even though you see his face every week, you can’t seem to wrap your head around how insanely good-looking he is, how sometimes you struggle to maintain eye contact with him, because it doesn’t take long before you feel yourself slowly flushing. 
“I wear it on my ring finger so the students stop asking about my marital status”, Prof Choi clarifies. You watch him pull the ring from his ring finger and fit it over his index. 
“So you’re single”, you echo.
He nods, “I’m single.” 
What is this strange feeling of relief?
“What about you?” He suddenly asks. You’re not looking directly at him, and you don’t realise the way he’s looking at you attentively. And if you do, you just might combust.
“I’m…single too”, you answer, trying to meet his gaze, fidgeting with the red pen in between your fingers. 
“And why’s that? Too busy fighting with your professors for grades?”
You glare at him. 
“I think it was my professor picking fights with me”, you reply quickly, jabbing right back at him. 
You watch Prof Choi lower his gaze, a smile spreading across his cheeks—an actual smile—his dimples showing up. Oh fuck. Just when you thought you could depend on your ribcage to contain your heart properly, you found out Prof Choi could actually smile. 
When he looks up at you again, you break the eye contact, your gaze flying back to the papers before you. 
“You know, I’ve met many students, but you were the first to cuss out at me.”
You did? “I did?”
Your professor nods, cocking his eyebrow at the way you had seemed to have simply forgotten something as eventful as that. 
This time, Professor Choi bursts into a chuckle, completely amused by your reaction. 
“Is that why you kept-“
“Giving you chances to answer in class for credit? You should really thank me for that. Your grade for my class was one of the highest you know.”
You feel your cheeks flush. But before you can retaliate, Prof Choi cuts you off.
“Jokes aside, no. I think the discussion we had that afternoon had an impression on me. The cherry on top was you cussing at me. I liked that. Refreshing and endearing”, Prof Choi continues, his attention seeping back to the pile of scripts before him. 
“I think this side of Professor is pretty refreshing and endearing too”, you let it slip.
His pen pauses in mid-air. You don’t catch his gaze completely softening on you. 
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As the semester continues on, you began easing into the class schedules. You watch prof get swarmed by a group of students, a usual ritual that happens right when the class ends. At this point, you had grown used to it. Sometimes the students would come and approach you instead, which honestly surprised you, but your heart would feel warm, knowing that these students trusted you.
It was then you became acquainted with another teaching assistant under Prof Choi, who joined shortly after you did—Choi Jongho. Initially, he came off as a rather shy individual, but the both of you warmed up quickly with each other, sharing the workload and bonding over gossip with each other. Gosh, was he fucking amazing with gossip, especially when it came to Professor Choi. Soon enough, the both of you were texting almost on a regular basis, the conversations weighing more towards academic topics sprinkled with a little gossip. 
“You’re going off with Choi Jongho?”
“Yeah”, you reply, bunching the papers in your hands. “I’ve got some things to discuss with him about.” Partially true. 
For some reason, even though your professor has been completely swamped with papers to grade and meetings to attend, you would always find him loitering around your desk from time to time. He seems to especially enjoy doing that when you’re around. 
“You’ve been spending an awfully lot amount of time with him”, Prof Choi points out, looking over your shoulder as he watches you scribble on another student’s paper. 
“Yeah, we get along well actually. Isn’t that a good thing, Prof? Both your teaching assistants are besties.”
For some reason, that makes Prof Choi frown, but you’re too absorbed in your work to notice it.
A couple of minutes go by, and you still feel his presence, not that you mind, but you’re starting to find it peculiar that he’s been hanging around your desk a lot recently.
“Do you have something to discuss with me, prof?” You ask, eyes still glued to the paper.
“Yes”, he replies, taking another sip from his mug. “What do you think of Choi Jongho?”
Such a random question to ask, you think. Maybe he’s just making sure you and Jongho get along well?
You pause, giving yourself to think, tapping the back of the red pen against your bottom lip, taken aback by Prof Choi’s sudden question, but the conversations you and Jongho had resurfacing into your brain, and a giggle escapes you, which makes Professor Choi subconsciously narrow his eyes and furrow his brows. 
“He’s fun to be around, and despite how he looks, he’s actually got a wicked sense of humor. Oh god, wait. Let me tell you what you he did that day while we were having lunch together-“
You turn your head to continue to run your mouth, only to slowly trail off when realise his face is just inches from yours, and you swear your heart is on a treadmill from the lack of distance between you and Prof Choi. It’s as if time paused, the both of you sinking right into each other’s gazes. You can’t help but notice how intense his gaze is, and you can’t seem to decipher his thoughts, but from the way this situation played out, you swore he’d just lean in and kiss you. 
Your heartbeat accelerates at the thought—why would he do that?
And when his fingers are on your chin, your rational thoughts are getting flushed out. 
“That’s an awful lot of cute things about Choi Jongho. I’ve never heard you talk about another Choi like that.”
You swallow hard, your body still frozen in spot. 
“What do you think about him then?” 
“Jongho? I was just-“
“No. Choi San.”
Oh god. You could only stare back at him. Prof Choi tilts his head, his eyebrows raised, waiting for his answer. His cologne floats and almost shuts down your senses—has he always smelled this good? 
The corner of his lips curl slightly at the way you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. 
“I t-think Prof-“
“San. Choi San”, he corrects you. 
Another hard swallow the more you try to focus your gaze on him. 
“I think Choi San’s a great professor. He’s really competent, a lot softer than he presents himself as-“
Fuck you can’t think. Not when he’s staring down your eyes to your lips like that. 
“Mmhm.”
“And he’s really so-“
Then a loud knock echoes across the room, breaking the tension. Prof Choi’s body doesn’t shift, but he looks up at the door, shouting “door’s unlocked”, before he stands back upright, adjusting his glasses and walking back to his desk. 
Jongho’s head peeks in, then he bows at Prof Choi before he walks to your desk. You stare up at him with a forced smile. 
“Ready to go? I was waiting for your message”, Jongho says, his eyes glancing over the professor, then you, a strange feeling that he probably interrupted something. 
You nod, while shoving your belongings into your bag, then slinging it on your shoulder. 
Barely being able to look at Professor Choi, you still force yourself to, bowing goodbye to him. 
“Thank you Prof Choi. See you tomorrow.”
He looks up from his desk, right into your eyes. 
“See you too, y/n.” 
You can’t help but wonder how far things would have gone if Jongho didn’t knock the door.
Jongho isn’t an idiot. Initially, he assumes that you and the professor were on much friendlier terms considering that you came in before he did. Granted, the workload he would give the both of you was the same, he would take the initiative to have lunch with the both of you both individually and together whenever he had pockets of free time, but what roused his awareness was the lingering glances Professor Choi would cast at you from time to time, the way he seemed to relish the reactions you would give him whenever he teased you. 
He notices the way your ears would grow red even when you roll your eyes at the professor and jab him with another playful snarky remark. 
Though he wonders how dangerous things could get, Jongho thinks this could get interesting. 
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The semester continues smoothly, the only change being that Jongho being absent from the office more often due to his other commitment to soccer. You remember him telling you he had quite a big match coming up, the sparkle in his eyes bright and twinkling whenever he talks about said sport. 
If he wasn’t in classes, he’d be off for training, hopping into the office from time to time to pass Professor Choi marked scripts and reports. Prof Choi pretty much didn’t mind—he stated as long as Jongho did his job, he could be free to do what he wanted outside of being a teaching assistant.
Needless to say, the office was mostly Prof Choi and you, now even more time spent with him with Jongho mostly being absent. By then, the both of you had grown so accustomed to being in each other’s presence that banters amongst each other became the norm—the both of you competing with each other with unserious remarks, laced with almost flirtatiousness, just to see who would back down first. 
Then came the proximity—since Prof Choi would wander over your desk as if he had all the free time in the world, he would somehow strike up another conversation with you, leaning over to hear you better, his arm bumping into yours to look over at the papers you were grading to check if you were doing them correctly. But what he absolutely adores the most is when you’d roll over to his desk to pester him with your questions—sometimes even testing him on his own content. 
He likes the way he gets to be closer to you. He likes the way your shoulders touch his when you lean in to push the paper towards him so he can see the script better. 
He likes the way you would finally look up and meet his eyes when you’re done formulating your question, waiting to hear his opinion.
Today is no different—Professor Choi being so used to the notion that he would only be seeing you in the office, the corner of his lips pull upwards at the thought of the types of banter you would have with him, the kinds of shenanigans you would bring into the office.
He hears your knock at the time you would always arrive, watching the way the door opens, and your head popping from the door, as you greet, “Hi Prof!” 
“Good morning, y/n”, he would greet back, sipping on his morning coffee. 
You walk over to his desk, dropping his tuna rice ball. “Here you go. Enjoy your breakfast, Prof!”
“You can stop calling me Prof”, Prof Choi suddenly says, twirling the pen in his hand. For a second, you wonder what triggered the sudden change. You’ve been calling him Prof since day one, pretty much used to it already, the only time you didn’t was when he—never mind. The thought of it is making your face flush again. 
“Is there something else you want me to call you?” You ask, trying to calm your heartbeat down when that memory suddenly resurfaces. 
“You can call me San. I’m fine with that. I know you’re still my teaching assistant but we’ve been working closely. I think it’s fine to drop the Prof honorific.”
You try out. 
“Sure thing San”, you reply. “Though it’s gonna take a while for me to get used to this.”
“If you’re able to cuss in front of me, calling me by my name should be the least of your worries, y/n”, San teases.
You raise your hand, feigning a stance ready to smack him before you lower your arm, listening to the way San laughs before rolling your eyes and sinking into your desk. 
The day marches on as normal—attending a class or two with Jongho before he’s whisked away to his soccer practice, leaving just the two of you for the rest of the day. 
San is leaning at your desk again, looking at you typing out your report. He squints slightly before he leans down to your shoulder, his finger pointed at one of the paragraphs, asking you about the content. You answer him, and when you turn your head once you’re done, you find yourself looking at San’s side profile mere inches away—his sun-kissed skin, his pretty lashes, his thick, well-trimmed eyebrows, and the way his lips protrude out a little—he always looked like he’s pouting in the most adorable way. 
That’s when you realise a problem seemed to be bubbling up to the surface, try as you might to ignore it, repress it—that you’re falling for your professor. Fast. 
You snap back to reality, finally aware of how loud your heart is beating against your rib cage, and your hand flies up in instinct as a divider between you and San. San blinks at the sudden movement, confused. 
“Y/n, what are you doing?” He’s not moving. 
“I think I’ve got something on my face.”
San cocks an eyebrow. “You do? Let me check-“ 
His palm covers yours, bringing it down to the table, and you’re kicking yourself for sprouting such a self-sabotaging lie.
Why? Because now San has his hand on yours on top of his face in full view of yours, his eyes meeting yours before his gaze flutters around your face, checking for whatever hell you said was on your face. 
His gaze meets yours and for a split second, something else glints in his eyes. 
The door swings open, and San straightens himself up, slightly irritated at the interruption, leaving you to spin your chair away from San, your hands cupping your cheeks, the heat warming you up against the cold air conditioner. The heat from his hand on yours lingers for a little longer. 
Jongho walks in, his duffel slinging on his shoulder with his shoe bag clipped. 
“Hey, Prof. Hey cutie.” 
San blinks. What did he just call you?
“Hey jjongie. Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” You ask, forcing yourself to focus on your colleague instead. 
“Supposedly, yeah, but there was a sudden downpour midway so training got cancelled. Might as well get some work done here”, he shrugs, dropping his bag onto the floor. 
San is wrapping his head around the fact that you and Jongho seem to have pet names for each other. 
“Didn’t miss me too much right?” Jongho teases. “‘Cause I did!”
“That’s a first coming from you jjongie”, you reply, surprising a smile. 
“Of course! It’s been a while, how could I not? We should go eat dinner together sometime.”
San only stares on in silence, pretending to sink back into his grading.
Jongho walks over to your desk, taking his turn to look at your report. San watches the way Jongho’s arm is comfortable over your seat, as he asks you about your report, talking to you as if San wasn’t just behind you seconds before. 
The fact you’re entertaining him—hitting his arm playfully and laughing at his remarks—all the more rouses some kind of irritation in San. It’s like a boiling pot. 
He pretends he doesn’t see the way Jongho leans in to whisper something into your ear although it’s bugging him so fucking much. For once, he wishes Jongho’s training didn’t cancel. 
“Oh right before I forget”, Jongho mutters, rushing back to his desk, digging through his bag. He walks back over with a paper in hand and places it before you. You glance down and your face brightens up—it’s a ticket to his game. 
“For real?” You exclaim, your eyes bright, taking the ticket in your hands. “I’ll definitely make time for you.”
“I’ll score goals for you, kay?” Jongho teases, his eyes glancing at San, who is progressively looking more irritated. 
“Ah, Is San not going?” 
“San? Since when were you on first name basis with him?” Jongho wonders aloud, the suspicion only brewing even more. 
“Jongho, don’t you have reports to hand in?” San asks curtly. 
You feel like you are caught in between crossfire for some reason. 
Jongho smiles, then has your head under his arm, which elicits another irritated reaction from your professor. 
You have never had Jongho done this before. In fact, you recall him offhandedly mentioning that he’s never a physical touch person, and that anything with physical touch makes him shudder. 
“Relax, Prof. You’d rather your subordinates get along than not right?”
Just when San is about to reply, Jongho suddenly exclaims. 
“AH, coach is calling me back to the field. Prof, I’ll send you the report by tomorrow okay? See you guys!”, Jongho hums as he runs back to his desktop to turn it off. 
“Has he always been like that?” San wonders aloud, his eyebrows furrowed. 
“I guess. It’s actually what makes him cute.”
“Cute? You think Jongho is…cute?” 
“Is he not? Doesn’t he remind you of a bear? Big and cuddly.”
San clears his throat, and you watch him walk over to your desk, his hand resting on the tabletop. He leans in. 
“So… you find it cute when he gives you pet names?”
“Well, I mean-“
“You find it cute when he plays with your hair?” San curls your locks around his fingers. 
You can’t seem to get words to leave your throat. 
“You find it cute when he has his hands all over you like that?” He’s leaning in even closer this time, arms trapping you at either side.
“Prof-“
“No. It’s sir.”
Your mind is in a whirlwind at the way he’s towering over you, his scent the only thing filling your olfactory senses, the way he’s staring right into you, gaze sharp as a blade. 
“You find it cute when his touches run up your body like this?” His fingers are trailing up your arms, every touch he burns into your skin, and when his thumb pauses at your chin, you realise you’re royally fucked.
Once more, his face is mere inches away from yours. You wonder if you’ll be teased like two previous times before. 
“Of course you don’t. You’d rather I do that to you, right?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
“Yes, sir.”
His voice is barely a whisper, his eyes downcast, staring at your lips like it’s his reward to claim. 
“Good girl.”
Of course, he claims it.
His kisses are so greedy—his lips prying yours open, and you feel yourself completely give in to him, surrendering whatever resistance, rationale, repression to Choi San. 
You want more—you want seconds. Every swipe his tongue passes your lip, it makes your head float. How does someone taste this fucking good?
He pauses mid-way—barely a couple of seconds, to pull off his glasses and strew them across the desk—then goes back to devouring your lips. 
San would smile in between kisses when he hears your whimpers. He thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you tremble slightly at his touch. It all goes straight to his cock. 
He thinks you’ll be even more adorable when he ruins you. 
When San pulls back, he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, watching your glazed-out expression with amusement. 
"I'd love to continue messing you up, but I have a meeting to attend. I’ll deal with you later, sweetheart. See you next week.”
His touch lingers on your chin for a couple of seconds longer before he pulls away and shifts to walk back to his desk, leaving your heartbeat wild and erratic, and your thighs squeezed tighter.
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Since then, that was all you ever thought about—the slight smile before his lips collided with yours, the way his words rang in your ears. You could barely meet his eyes. 
In more instances than one and with any chance given to him, he’d close up any physical distance he had with you. Worried that your emotions would bubble and overflow when he does that, you developed a habit of avoiding his eye contact. 
Even after classes, you swore he was casting you glances even with lines of students waiting to talk to him. 
“Did you piss Prof off or something?” Jongho asks as he shuts his laptop. 
“Why are you asking?”
He shrugs. “It’s just that he’s been eyeing you down like a hawk recently. Did something happen between the both of you?”
You freeze when the flashbacks of the taste of his lips return to your memory when you remember how hungry he looked just wanting to devour you. 
“Y/n?”
You blink, then force yourself to meet Jongho’s eyes. 
“No. Nothing happened. At least I hope I didn’t make any mistakes.”
“You’re fine. There’s a reason why the department chair chose his teaching assistants.”
You laugh softly at his words.
But when you hear San’s voice from behind you, you almost jump. 
“Y/n, Jongho, the both of you can wrap up here and head back to the office”, he instructs. You feel his warmth radiating from behind, and it only makes your heart jump at the proximity. 
You watch Jongho slowly pack up, small conversations sparking between the both of you about his soccer practice. 
You glance at the door. San isn’t back yet. 
“I think it’ll take him awhile to be back. The students there seem to really like him.” 
No doubt, the female students for this class seemed a lot more assertive, almost always demanding all of San’s time. Well, not that it should matter. It’s not as if he should mean anything-
“Y/n? Are you okay? You seem pretty off recently. Even Prof’s pretty worried”, Jongho’s voice grounding you back to the cold office. 
You force a smile and shake your head. 
“I’m fine. I guess it’s just so much workload to deal with.” 
Jongho places his hand on your shoulder in comfort, “You’re doing fine. You know you can approach either of us if you’re struggling right?”
You feel comforted, even though your messy thoughts weren’t even about the workload, so you return an assured smile before waving Jongho off for his soccer practice. 
You’re wondering what you’re feeling nervous about, because when the door of San’s room opens, you jolt slightly. 
“You’re still here?” You hear San ask. 
“Yeah. Need to reply to some emails and double-check some of their assignments.” Not a total lie. It’s the swirling feelings he’s been giving you whenever that day surfaces in your mind, the small bouts of attention he pays you and the touches he lets linger a little too long that’s all a dopamine rush in you. You can’t help but want more. But in the same breath, meeting his gaze will allude doom for you. 
San nods as he sits back at his desk, going right back to his computer. The silence continues for awhile and you’re surprised that you’re even able to concentrate. 
“Y/n”, you hear San call you. 
Your gaze doesn’t break from your screen. “Hmm?”
“Come here. Help me look at this.”
You walk over, ignoring the way your heart is just pounding so damn loudly. It’s painfully obvious that San is staring right at your face, and it’s also painfully obvious that you’re avoiding looking at him. 
And it definitely seems to be ticking him off. 
Your eyes stay locked to his screen reading off whatever is on the screen, and nothing is processing in your brain. 
“It looks good”, you curtly reply, trying to ignore the fact that you’re being stared down by a certain professor. You turn away, your eyes still not acknowledging San, only for your professor to stop you in your tracks. 
“Now where do you think you’re going?”
He’s making you face him now. 
You’re still not giving him eye contact. 
“Back to my desk?” You say, looking off into the distance. But San seems to have other plans. 
“You know ‘looks good’ isn’t the feedback I’m looking for, right?”
Shit. You know that clear as day. 
Now San has both his arms trapping you on his desk. 
You somehow still manage to avoid his sharp gaze even when you’re backing up against him, easily letting him corner you.
His belongings are strewn all over the desk when he pins you down. By some miracle, only papers flutter down his desk. 
And you’re finally looking right at him. 
“You’re finally looking at me, y/n”, he states the obvious. “Now tell me, did I do something wrong?” 
“No, you didn’t, sir”, you reply curtly. 
He leans in closer. 
“Then why are you avoiding my eye contact?”
You shut your eyes and squeeze them. There’s no pure way out of this—your dirty thoughts are seeping into the smallest crevices of your brain, and the more San is prodding you, the more it makes you throb.
“It’s because that evening when we…” you feel your cheeks burn with every word leaving your lips. 
San is waiting for you to continue. 
“When we kissed…couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
“And?”
“It made me want…more.”
There’s a moment of silence.
“Has anyone told you how adorable you are when you’re honest?” He chuckles. “I’m gonna finish what we started sweetheart, like I promised.”
It makes your heart flutter. 
“Am I getting your consent for this?”, San’s voice rings in your ears. You’re finding it hard to focus, especially when his thumb is pushing past the corner of your lips, and you’re just growing wet as fuck. 
This is not right. This is so dangerous. 
“Yes sir”, you reply back, trying to ignore the way your cunt is just tingling from the feeling of San’s thick erection pressing against you.
“That’s my good girl”, he praises before he dives in for a hungry kiss, his fingers roaming around your body, squeezing your tits before he unbuttons your shirt at an agonising pace. He smiles on your lips when he hears your soft gasp, and he presses his lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, sucking and biting the soft skin against your neck, his erection growing tighter against his trousers when he hears you moan and squirm. 
When he’s satisfied with the light marks he decorated down your neck, his lips are pressed against your ear, and his hands are moving dangerously close to your cunt, and inevitably, your bottoms are off in seconds, leaving you in your pretty panties. 
“I would prefer fucking you on my bed instead for the first time, but taking you on my desk? Maybe not too bad.”
Your cunt squeezes at the sound of San cussing. You never thought he’d sound this fucking hot. 
He groans when his fingers press against the soaked patch of fabric hiding your pussy. All that wetness for him. He bunches up the fabric and rubs it against your clit, the friction drawing frustrated whimpers from you, much to his satisfaction. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and it’s driving you crazy.
San’s fingers finally hook against the waistband of your panties, sliding them off your legs, and pocketing them, much to your shock. 
And he doesn’t give you much time to focus on that because when he pulls his cock out from his unzipped pants, it makes your head spin from how thick Choi San is. 
“Sir, I’m not sure-“
“It’ll fit, sweetheart, like it’s made for me”, is all the warning San gives before he lines up to your hole and pushes his cock in. 
You can’t tell what’s fucking you up more—the way his cock is stretching you open or the San groaning in relief when he finally gets to stuff you full. 
You bat away your tears, his cock so fucking full inside of you, pressing against your walls, being squeezed so perfectly by you. 
God, Choi San thinks he’s in heaven. 
His fingers brush across your cheeks, collecting your teardrops. His eyes lack any ounce of empathy. 
“Aw, are you crying because it feels good? You look so fucking pretty crying when I’m stretching you open.”
You barely find the words to reply to him, all stuck in your throat, your mind only flooded by the way San’s cock is buried in your cunt, your thighs trembling from the pleasure. It’s almost sickening. You know you shouldn’t be doing this—not with your professor, not on his fucking desk, but when he has you wrapped you around his finger and cock fucking the daylights out of you, it’s a temptation you can never resist. 
A soft hiccup escapes past your lips when San pulls out almost all the way, his cock covered in a sheen of slick and precum before he pushes himself in once more, groaning when you clench around him for the nth time. 
“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart. God, I could just fuck you all day. You’d like that right?”
You’re barely keeping track, eyes rolled to the back of your head while your thighs twitch from the pleasure, but you manage to hold the eye contact, and through blurry tears, you mutter a weak, “Yes sir”. 
“Of course you do”, San hums before he pulls out once more and starts fucking you dumb on his desk. 
No matter how much you try to cover your mouth, bite your tongue or your lip, your moans only come out louder in defiance, the dopamine shooting up your pussy over and over again whenever San’s cock hits your pretty spots. 
Your mind is addicted to the way San’s shirt is buttoned down his chest, his cleavage almost fully out for you to gawk at, the way strands of his hair cling to his forehead because of the sweat, the way his eyes roll back when he feels you squeeze him with every loud fuck, and the way he looks down to you from time to time before he eats up your pathetic moans with hungry kisses. 
He fucked you up so good, you didn’t even realise it until now. 
“S-San”, you manage out a whimper, “please…”
“Please what, sweetheart?”
You don’t even know what you’re begging for. 
“Please… you feel so fucking good. I’m gonna cum. It’s so fucking good”, you babble, trying to force your eyes open. 
San can’t help but smirk when his ego is being stroked so nicely like that, especially by you. He’s a good person, of course, he’ll give what his good girl wants. 
His thumb slides south on your body until you feel the ticklish sensation of him on your clit. Cream and precum pooling at the base of his cock makes it even worse for you—with every graze, his finger pressed onto your clit, the knot tightened in your stomach. 
Your nonsensical strings of words only push San to tease you more as he endearingly watches you break slowly when your orgasm builds up. 
Your body twitches, your back arches, your eyes roll back, white splashes beneath your eyelids. Your orgasm burning through you while you cry out San’s name and you twitch pathetically on his cock, letting your cream leak all over his wet cock. 
“Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?”, you hear San curse. He fucks you through your orgasm, the overstimulation building up. The sensitivity feels so fucking good. 
His hand catches your jaw, and he forces you to meet his eyes. 
“Wanna pump you full of my cum, keep you so fuckin’ full for days on end,” he huffs, “but not now, sweetheart.”
Not that you minded, but there’s a strange tinge of disappointment ringing at the back of your head. 
San thrusts into you a couple more times before he pulls out, his thick and wet cock resting on your pelvis, twitching as his hand takes over. 
Nothing can beat Choi San’s fucking face when he cums. He looks like he’s in fucking heaven, and he’s tearing up the sky because of you. His fingers leave light marks on your thighs, you hear him groan at such a low tone that your cunt flutters uselessly against the air. Translucent spurts land on your skin, but it barely registers in you—you’re too busy swooning over the way your Professor just cummed over your body. 
San’s high dies down, and he catches his breath, casting you a glance, red dusting his cheeks, before he reaches out for the tissue box to clean you up. 
A quick kiss on the lips before he goes on to collect all the papers all over the floor.
That night he drives you home, filling the space with light conversations as if he didn’t just railed you on his desk. 
It’s only when you reach home that you realise one important thing—San still has your panties. 
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You know you shouldn’t be telling secrets to your colleague, especially when it’s about your fucking boss. But here you are, facing Jongho, who has his arms crossed in front of you. 
“What’s up with you and Prof?” You predict the words that leave his lips. 
You hesitate to tell him, unsure how you should even say it, where to even start. 
The worst part you knew clear as day was that nothing changed since that day. You chalked it off as San being swamped with assignments to deal with, that’s why the topic was never brought up again, but something still irked you. The only comfort you had was that the semester was ending, and so was your term as San’s teaching assistant. 
Maybe it was how it was meant to be. Just nothing more than that.
But when you realise the dreaded feeling prickling at the back of your eyes, you knew you were fucked. 
“I don’t know how to even start jjong”, you sigh. Jongho scrunches his eyebrows. 
You watch his expression switch from one to the other. You expected him to freak out at you, yell at you for unprofessionalism or something, but he doesn’t. 
“It’s so fucked up. But I just can’t help but wonder if he feels anything”, you mutter. The thought of you not being the only one he’s doing this with makes your stomach churn. But somehow, in the most twisted ways, confiding Jongho made you feel slightly better. 
“Well, looks like we’ll have to play that card I guess”, Jongho shrugs. “But you should mentally prepare yourself for the results, that’s all I gotta warn you. I just need your consent to play along.”
It’s a risky bet you’re playing, but drastic times called for drastic measures, right?
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As the semester closes to its end, so does the workload. San feels a lot lighter on his shoulders, and while he’s grateful for his teaching assistants for lifting a significant amount of workload off him, the end of a semester meant the end of the working relationship between him and his teaching assistants. He usually doesn’t feel that much, considering he has had many teaching assistants in the past, but for some reason, he feels a sense of discomfort lodged in his stomach when he thinks about having to let them go.
Especially one of them. 
He sighs, removing his glasses from his nose and shutting his eyes while reviewing the exams. San feels like a fucking idiot when his eyes land on your empty desk, his frustration bubbling when you cross his mind again. 
Even though he pretends to keep himself busy by flooding his mind with work, somehow, you would bubble to the surface once more, pushing him into the pits of frustration when he’s reminded of the way you get a kick arguing and refuting him just to get a reaction out of him, the way you taste like sweetest thing on earth he’s ever tried and the way you completely unravel when San fucks every single thought out of you—
He bites his cheek. 
No. He has to keep it professional. At least, until the term is over. 
He just doesn’t know how to tell you. 
He knows he’s entered deep waters when he crossed the line that evening, the sight of you undone right before him snapping all his rationale. More than anything, he’s suffering the withdrawals, maybe that’s the punishment he has to bear. 
He glances at the colourful ticket at the corner of his desk. It’s Jongho’s big game. Even though he usually doesn’t let himself intertwine with his subordinate’s personal interests, it’s hard not to. 
In addition, you’ll be there. Maybe he’d snag you after the game and talk to you properly. 
The meeting ran overtime, San glances down at his silver watch, realising he’d missed almost thirty minutes of Jongho’s game. Despite the exhaustion, he pushes it aside and heads to the stadium. 
He watches the brightly lit scoreboard as he takes a seat on the bench, Jongho’s team is in the lead by one point. 
Somehow he gets wrapped up in the game, cheering when Jongho’s team takes championship as the benches all burst into loud cheers too. 
He gets up to leave, already thinking of drafting a text to congratulate Jongho in his head, maybe get him a small congratulatory gift on the side. 
Then he spots you, just rows below. Now, he’s walking down as if on instinct, to get to where you are.
San pushes past the crowd to approach you. He’ll offer to drive you back—he knows it’s all an excuse but anything to get you into his space once more. 
His arm outstretched, reaching out to tap your shoulder, then suddenly stopping when he sees Jongho appear right in front of you. That’s fine. San could just congratulate him at the same time—
Which all of those thoughts immediately disintegrate when he watches Jongho cup your cheeks with his hand, his eyes widening in complete silent horror as Jongho leans into you for a kiss. 
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You seriously doubt that Jongho’s plan would work. Didn’t San decide not to come anyway? You heard it with your own ears too. 
Nonetheless, you pushed it to the back of your mind, focusing on cheering for your friend, watching the leading scorer jump from one team to the next. You couldn’t help but erupt into cheers when Jongho’s team won, screams echoing through the open stadium. 
You watch Jongho walk up to the benches where you are, and his arms wrap around you, his smile big and bright, competing with the stadium lights. 
“Congratulations, baby bear”, you tease, pushing against his shoulders lightly. Jongho inches close to you. 
“He’s behind you by the way”, Jongho mutters, loud enough for you to hear, but not long enough for you to process, because his hands are cupping your jaw, his thumb pressed against your lips. 
He hears you muffle some kind of question but your lips stay sealed. 
“You owe me one for this,” is the last thing you hear before he leans in. Your eyes widen in shock, and you freeze in your spot, even though his lips don’t meet yours, evidently separated by Jongho’s thumb, his action had caught you off guard.
You barely have the capacity to process what had just happened, and you feel someone’s warmth tightening against your wrist. 
Jongho lets go of you immediately, but you’re staring right at your professor, who is staring right at Jongho with an unreadable expression, with his fingers curled tightly against your wrist. It feels like an eternity since you saw him. He’s not wearing glasses today and his hair is down instead of his usual slicked-back look, donned with a simple dress shirt and tie which framed his wide shoulders so perfectly.
“Congratulations on your win, Choi Jongho. I believe you should be with your team to celebrate right?”
Jongho only smirks back. “Right. See you babe. Thank you, Prof. See you next week.”
Jongho casts you a glance, the mischief twinkling in his eyes before he turns his heel down the stairs and back to the field. 
What the fuck just happened?
And you find yourself staring up at the male before you, his gaze piercing into yours. 
“Prof—San?” You blink. “I thought you weren’t-“
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart. Why would I not want to see the cute relationship my teaching assistants have right?” His voice is laced with venom. 
San doesn’t really elaborate further, leading you to his car, sealing your fate once more when the passenger doors close shut. 
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He’s all over you. His body is burning up, maybe just as fast as yours is, and it’s making you feel dizzy. His moves are aggressive, impatient and you swear you feel something else too—desperation. 
“S-San—“ you gasp, in an attempt to take control of something.
“It’s sir to you, sweetheart”, his voice low and gentle, but commanding. Goosebumps scatter across your skin, making you shiver in response when his palms slide up your waist. 
You never saw it coming—from the second his hand grabbed yours, pulling you away from Jongho, his eyes locked into yours for a moment before he turns to Jongho, then to the car ride back, where you noticed the way his knuckles turned pale from gripping the steering wheel. On the walk to his car, you asked him where you were going, and all he did was turn to you and reply, “We’ve got things to talk about, don’t we, sweetheart?”
Now you’re becoming undone once more under San’s touches, trapped beneath him like the first time, now at his place, on his fucking couch instead. 
“It was just foolish of me to just let it be, wasn’t it?” He asks. “Fucking you dumb on my desk wasn’t a good enough indicator, was it?”
“S-sir…!”
“And you think it’s cute getting all cuddly with Jongho? Letting him kiss you all over, touch you all over?” San mutters, his fingers wrapped around your throat, his grip tightening slightly and you’re sure he’s about to leave light imprints. 
But oh, was it so fucking exhilarating—the thought of Choi San riled up like that, a sight you’ve never seen before, and you’re not sure if fear or excitement running through your veins right now, but what you do know, is that if he finds out that your panties are completely soaked through, you’re fucking done for. 
His lips collide with yours again, branding himself as some kind of oxygen thief when he’s turning your mind into complete mush. 
“I’m not sure if it’s a little game to you sweetheart, but if it is, I think you need a reminder.”
You breathlessly look up at him, and he looks ethereal even when he’s panting and looking pissed as hell. 
“What reminder, sir?” You dare ask back. 
The side of San’s lips tugs upwards. His hand leaves your throat and trails down your blouse, effortlessly unbuttoning the apparel until he tugs it off you, panting at the sight of your tits hugged by your lace bra. Your bottoms are off again on the floor of his bedroom, alongside any ounce of rationale. Your soaked panties are agonisingly pulled off your legs, and before you know it, his hands spread them open too. It takes all of San’s self-control to not stuff you full. At least, not yet.
“It’s my cock you’re gonna cum all over. Even when you have another guy’s lips on yours, it’s my name you’re gonna fucking scream.”
Oh. Oh god. 
The pieces of what Jongho was trying to do suddenly come together, unfortunately, the realisation doesn’t last long because San has his lips greedily on yours again on top of the way his full-blown erection is pressing onto your pussy. 
“Sir”, you manage out a weak mutter when he finally pulls away, trying to press and grind against his clothed dick for some friction or anything to rid the burn that’s going through your body. But San remains still. 
“Use your words since you love using your mouth so much.” Like kissing Choi Jongho. 
Your mind is a complete puddle. 
“I really…fuck. I really need you to fuck me right now, sir”, you beg, red flushing your cheeks, but it’s not from the shame. There’s a feral glint in San’s eyes that you don’t miss. 
“No”, is all he answers, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach. 
“Not until I’ve fucked your mouth full, sweetheart.” 
All you can do is watch him speechlessly as he hooks his index finger on the knot of his tie and loosens it, unraveling it back to its original form. 
“Hands together”, he commands you, and you do so immediately, basking in the scent of his cologne while he leans into you, his hands tying knots around your wrists with his tie. “Don’t let it loosen, got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Now on your knees.” 
You’ve never dropped to your knees so fast.
San forces you to watch him unbutton and lower the fly of his trousers, and you’re just doing your best not to get drool on his expensive carpet. 
When his cock springs out, you’re also forced to watch him fuck his palm at a slow pace, drinking in his groans, slick staining your inner thighs, and the fucking floor next if you don’t do anything. 
His cock is heavy against your cheek when he taps it there, and your tongue slips out of your mouth by instinct, given experimental kitten licks on his slit, before his fingers catch your chin, and he forces you to look up at him. 
“Look at me”, he instructs. 
You do. You do your best not to break the eye contact, trying not to be sidetracked by his big fucking cock, but your eyes can’t help but dart to his appendage. 
“No, keep your eyes on me”, he redirects once more, his fingers fixing your head in place. 
Then he slides his cock into your mouth and pulls out a choked moan from you. 
“That’s it. Good girl”, he grunts when you start bobbing your head, fucking his cock with your mouth. 
His fingers trail to the back of your head, but he’s using all of his strength not to force your head down. 
But as you pick up the momentum, it’s an automatic reaction to push your head down so his cock hits the back of your throat. Your eyes are watering but fuck you feel like you’re in fucking heaven. Your head spins whenever his wet cock is forced down your tight throat, and you break eye contact a few times, which San has to tap your jaw to make you keep eye contact while he fucks your face. 
“I’m cumming, sweetheart. Fuck. Keep that pretty little mouth open for me yeah?” He groans, bucking his hips, letting streaks of warm white paint your throat and mouth, watching the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes, taking his cum in your mouth like a good girl. His good girl. 
He smudges his thumb against the corner of your lips before his arms carry you up, only to dump you on the couch.
Your back is on the couch again, hands still tied behind your back and legs up with San pressing his body weight on you.
He props your leg on his shoulder, and he stretches you open inch by inch. You gasp when he fills you up, your walls immediately clenching around him. 
“So fuckin tight for me, sweetheart. You take me so well.”
His thrusts are growing more aggressive mixed in with the possession that’s bleeding in and it’s setting your whole body on fire. Your words are caught in your throat when he’s buried into you to the hilt. He groans at the way your pussy is fluttering pathetically against him. 
It feels so fucking good that nothing but stars engulf your vision when his cock stuffs you full to the hilt again. His name leaves your lips like a mantra on top of broken moans and whimpers, and it only makes San fill up the space in your pussy all the more better. 
His shoulders are so wide that he’s towering over you, his fingers forcing you to face him whenever you’re drifting because of the pleasure, his eyes feral when you look so fucked out for him. And when he combines his heavy thrusts with a squeeze around your throat, it makes your mind shut off and your cunt cream all over his dick.
“Good girl, looking all so fucked out for me.”
 His cock is hitting all the perfect spots, and it’s driving you insane with the knot tightening in your stomach at such a fast pace. You think you’re sliding off the couch but San isn’t letting you—especially not when his thrusts are keeping you on the couch. His name continues to leave your lips in broken moans every time he fucks you. 
San snakes his fingers to your scalp and he tugs sharply, enough to force you to look up at him. You’re tearing up again, and it feels so fucking good with the way he’s keeping your hair tugged while he fucks the ever-loving shit out of you.
“My name does sound much better when you’re crying it doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
You choke back a moan when he hits your g-spot once more.
“Y-yes sir.” 
“How are you feeling?”
“Full. So full sir. Want more. Please. Need you to ruin me”, you beg once more, your mind floating in an endless euphoria.
“Oh, I definitely will”, San hums, watching in sheer pleasure as your eyes roll back when his cockhead presses perfectly against your g-spot over and over.
Before you realise it, your orgasm hits you like fucking train, spreading through your body like a fucking wildfire, engulfing every crevice of your body. 
He’s gonna break you, and you’re fucking loving it. 
“San-“, you cry out, not registering the way he’s wiping the tears off your eyes. “So good. You feel so good. Cumming so much-“ 
“I know, sweetheart. It feels so fucking good doesn’t it?” He asks with a smile, satisfied when you nod frantically while he rubs your thighs.
Your thighs are shaking from how good this all feels, cream staining your inner thighs and his cock when he pulls out. 
“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart”, San reminds you. 
He turns you over, keeping one hand on your tied hands, while the other pressing your head against the back of the couch. He lines his cock back to your cunt, pushing into your hole once more. You choke on your moans again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes until he’s fully seated in you once more. 
The sounds are even wetter now, especially when you’re overstimulated, pussy just being so perfectly abused by Choi San. You fucking love the way his hands are around your neck, forcing you against the cushions when he fucks you dumb from the back. 
Your stomach is in knots once more, the feeling building up faster than the previous time, and all you can mutter is that it feels so good. San thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you’re not having banters with him and being this cock drunk for him. 
Then he pulls you off the couch, letting you catch a breath before he sits you on his lap, his cock still buried in your cunt, and starts bouncing you off his cock from below.
He alternates between melting your brain with his pornographic moans right at your ear and planting more love bites down your jaw. 
“Gonna cum again. You feel so fucking good in me. Oh god”, you hiccup through your tears, the sensitivity pushing your limit. 
“Cum as hard as you want, sweetheart. I’ll let you milk me dry, fill you up so fucking good that you’ll be leaking with my cum for the next two days.” 
That was enough to set you off. Your pussy convulses when your second orgasm hits, fireworks bursting in your eyelids, long drawn-out cries while San fills your tight cunt with his warm and thick cum, while his groans fill up in your ears. You feel his fingers massaging your thighs, coaxing you from your high. 
You’re dizzy, and light-headed as your head slumps against his shoulders, too spent to acknowledge the male behind you leaving more marks down your neck. 
“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” San breaks the momentary silence, well aware that his softening cock is still in you. 
Your hand flies up to his chest to stop him, even though you’re still recovering from seeing stars. 
“We need to talk-“
“After we clean up”, he cuts you off, lifting you off his cock and carrying you bridal style to his bathroom. 
But you’re stubborn. 
“N-no. It wasn’t what you thought it was”, you say, feeling your tears well up in your eyes on top of the weight. 
The prickles are starting to form at the bottom of San’s heart, but he’s more focused on trying to hose you down with warm water. But he’s listening you run your mouth, not that he minded. 
“We didn’t kiss”, you reiterate. 
Now he’s just confused. He stares at you. 
“We just had sex, y/n”, San reminds you, trying not to let the red reach his cheeks. 
“No—I mean Jongho and I. We didn’t kiss”, you clarify.
San doesn’t really know if he should believe your words or his eyes, but now he’s focused on lathering your hair and body. 
“That wasn’t what I saw”, he replies, avoiding eye contact. 
“That’s cause we did this-“ you huff, turning his head to face you, imitating the way Jongho had slid his thumb between your lips and his, demonstrating San the fake kiss. 
San only stares at you wordlessly when you pull back, only more questions than answers. 
“But why would he do that for?”
“He was trying to rile you up.”
“For what?”
“To see if you felt anything for me?”
“By kissing you?”
Oh god. It felt like the more you explained, the more San was getting the wrong ideas. You let your head sit in your hands, unsure if it’s from the embarrassment or the fact that you don’t even know where to start. 
“It wasn’t a kiss, Choi San”, you groaned, your hands leaving your face, suddenly self-conscious that San is staring intently at you. “After we, um, fucked the first time, you acted like nothing happened, and I felt like shit about it, and I told Jongho and then…” you trail off, feeling your cheeks heat up again. It’s probably the hot water, at least that’s what you try to convince yourself with.
“I don’t kiss people I’m not in love with, San”, you sigh in defeat. Your eyes are downcast, but you feel his fingers cup your cheeks, and his lips press onto yours. You swear you could go another round again. 
The silence hangs in the air for a while, only the sounds of the shower filling the emptiness when he pulls back. 
“I didn’t do anything since after that evening because I wanted to properly tell you after the term ended.”
“Tell me what?”
“That I’m in love with you, too.”
You blink. Somehow that shocked you more than the both times he fucked your brains out. 
You don’t answer him because your head is just swarming with so many thoughts, and San lets you do so, satisfied that he’s finally have you quieten down so he can finish washing you up. 
Even when he’s dressed you in his oversized hoodie, San peppers you with kisses, basking in the way you sometimes cover his face with your hands to stop him, which only rouses him to continue to attack you with his lips.
San’s arms are tight around you when the both of you are finally on his bed. You smell like his favourite body soap and he can’t seem to get enough of it—nuzzling against the crook of your neck, muttering sweet nothings. You think this is probably your favourite version of Professor Choi. 
Your fingers twirl around his splayed-out locks, and you speak. 
“Prof Choi”, you tease, and San looks up, and it’s the first time you actually see him pout—it almost makes you combust. 
“I told you to stop calling me that”, he frowns, burying his face, feigning trying to cut off physical contact from you, which only makes you laugh in response. 
“I just wanted to disturb you”, you respond, trying to yank him back into your arms. “I do have a question though.”
His head pops up from his pillows and he stares at you, waiting for you to speak. 
“When did you realise you had feelings for me?”
He pauses, giving himself a couple of minutes to think. 
“The moment I received your teaching assistant application.”
📚 Bonus Epilogue 📚
“Prof Choi!” One of his teaching assistants calls out to him. 
He turns his head and attention to her, pushing up his glasses. 
“Yes?” 
“I need help with this part of the assignment. Could you help me check that I’ve marked it correctly?”
San nods, taking the papers from her. 
As he scans through her work, the teaching assistant’s eyes glance down at the band hugging his ring finger. 
“Prof, you’re married?”
San pauses his writing to glance at the glistening gold on his finger, and a small smile spreads across his cheeks. 
“You know, I used to wear a ring on my ring finger so students would stop asking me if I was married or not.”
She raises her eyebrows, her curiosity piqued. “So you’re not?”
“I am.”
Her eyes brighten, invested in her handsome professor’s love story. 
“Tell me more then”, she asks. 
San scoffs playfully, turning his gaze to her. 
“All I can tell you is that she’s always been my favourite.”
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network: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet
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merakiui · 7 months
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I already gushed about your riddle-fic when i reblogged it, but i am still thinking about it - you promised a W for Riddle and you delivered, he deserves it
Reader's idea of having a strawberry garden took me back to the posts about baking pies and gardening with Riddle, the cottagecore-style suits Riddle-fantasies, after all that stress he's gone through
Your writing was so good, but I don't want to leave another lengthy text gushing about the writing, because I could go on for a long time lol
-angling
I cannot thank you enough for your reblog and the kind comments you left in it!!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ I read it with such a happy smile!!!!!!! The merakiui guarantee is essentially: if a character is allowed a W, it will be the best W of their life. If they are condemned to an L (looking directly, DISRESPECTFULLY at glomas Azul), it will be the most suffering L ever. I'm happy to give Riddle a W!!!!!! A long Riddle fic with a good ending was much overdue.
:O omg yes!!!! Baking pies and gardening.... the cottagecore lifestyle is so wonderful for Riddle. It's just him and his horsegirl in a quaint home in the countryside. Growing strawberries as nature intended. <3 I like to imagine Rook stops by on occasion just to check in. He's the second human you learn to not fear. But then maybe it's good practice to be wary around Rook Hunt. ^^;;;;
Thank you for reading and enjoying this fic!!!! ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ sending you all of my love. xoxoxoxoxo!!!!!!!
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pedroshotwifey · 10 months
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Thanksgiving With Frankie Morales
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Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader
Word Count: 611
Tags/Warnings: No use of y/n, 2nd person pov, free-use kink (kinda, I think), domestic fluff, smut, unprotected piv, established relationship, sleepy sex, Frankie is eeby and neeby to sleeby, thanksgiving drabble
Summary: Frankie wakes up to find you preparing thanksgiving dinner. That fact doesn't deter him from taking what he wants.
A/N: Happy Thanksgiving everyone!! I hope you all stuff yourselves full of turkey, pumpkin pie, and husband!frankie's cock! This is the first drabble I've done, so I hope y'all like it. Thank you for reading <3 🦃🥧🍆
***
You really thought you could get through making dinner. 
Of course, that’s always a long shot with a man like Frankie Morales in the house. You’re only about halfway through making the first couple of pies when you hear your husband walk up behind you. He lets out a yawn, probably fresh out of bed.
The oven clock flashes 10:33. You had gotten up only about an hour before, thinking that you could get more done without this insatiable man crowding you in the kitchen. So much for that. 
Any kind of annoyance disappears, however, when Frankie wraps his strong arms around you. His warmth from the bed still lingers. It seeps into your skin and makes you lean back into his embrace, already entranced. 
You drop the utensils you had been using and choose to ignore the food for now. 
“’morning, mi amor,” Frankie slurs as he nuzzles into your shoulder and pushes himself against you. There is a prominent bulge nudging against your lower back that makes you gasp and sends a shock straight down to your core. 
Frankie doesn’t waste a second before he’s lazily lifting up the skirt of your T-shirt, the one that you had stolen from the floor next to his side of the bed earlier.
He lowers the band of his gray sweatpants just enough to pull his cock and balls out. Holding a hand flat out in front of your face, he prompts you to lick it, which you do. 
Frankie uses his now-wet palm to pump himself a few times, grunting before he notches the tip of his fat cock at your entrance, which is still soaked from your activities with him last night. You moan as, inch by blissful inch, he sheaths himself until there’s no more to feed into your hungry cunt. 
Once he’s bottomed out, he begins to thrust at a slow pace, allowing his dick to drag across your walls and touch every heavenly spot inside of you. His large hands come up to grasp at your breasts and lightly pinch your nipples, making you keen at the sensation. 
You grasp at his forearms as he slides in and out of you, the tip of him bumping up against your g-spot with every easy push. The sun from the window bathes you both in a soft orange glow, giving the whole kitchen a more intimate quality. 
“Feel so good, baby,” Frankie says quietly into your ear, his eyes closed and his eyebrows pinched as he revels in the feel of your wet and warm pussy sucking him in just right. You sigh and push back into him, meeting his movements halfway. 
When he can sense his orgasm, he moves one hand down to rub slow circles around your clit. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re moaning and your cunt is fluttering around his cock. The way you squeeze around him finishes him off, and you let your own lids drop as spurt after spurt of his hot seed coats your walls. 
He pulls out after a minute of savoring the euphoria, allowing his spend to trickle down your thighs, where it will likely stay until you get ready for your guests to come over. Reluctantly, he lets his arms fall from around you and backs away. 
“Gonna go get cleaned up,” he says, sleep still in his voice as he tucks his softening cock back into his pants. “Thank you, baby.” 
You hum and nod, turning around to plant a kiss on your husband’s plush lips. He smiles into you and gives you one more warm hug before walking off to get in the shower. 
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Yandere sebastain x reader
Summary: you were an villager who has a small bakery shop , but theres was this day ciel and his butler sebastain dropped by your bakery and to your suprise they really liked your baked goods but his butler had another plans for you
Its a warm spring day in england, birds were singing, the weather was warm and also refreshing and you were happily selling the baked goods that you made with so much passion and hard work
"Here you go sir! " you said with a smile as you give the old man packcage of cinnom rolls and he politely thanked you and leaved you let out a sigh of relief, with the a mount of cosmuters you were having today was exsuthing but you were proud of yourself , you were managed to handled it all by yourself. As the your day countined , you were cleaning the empty shells that once were filled with a lots of baked goods before now emptied by your cosmuters , once you finshed with the cleaning, you make your the way to filled the shells with the new baked goods, as you were placing them on the shells, you heared your door bell ring as the two man with a young english boy entered inside, you immidetly recognize the boy, its was no other than ciel phantomive and his butler sebastain michealis
" hello my lord, how can i help you today? " you said kindly as you give the boy a smile
"Hello, miss my master would like to buy one of your baked goods" his butler replied with a warm smile on his face and ciel nodded as a approvel of his words
" of course , which one of them would you prefer my lord? " you asked the boy
" i would like to have some of your apple pies and bagels " he said pointing the shell where the apple pie and bagels are , you give him a slight nod and approach the shell filling the bag with bagels and a apple pie as you perpared the bag , you gentely handed the bag to his butler as his butler paid for the things, he give you a smile as he leaved with his master. As they were gone, you stood there taking a deep breath feeling proud of yourself that you managed handled it without messing up with exticement , as you the hours passed, you countined your work in the kitchen, your cosmuters send you letters to give you thier orders so you have to do a lots of baking today, as you finished making thier dough and shaping them, you put them on the oven letting them bake, you let a sigh of relief, feeling relived that you manged to finish your tasks , this all took you for 3 hours or maybe even more you were only a one person after all, you sit on the kitchen's couch letting yourself have well desvered rest, as you rest you read one of the letters one of the cosmuters that send you as you read this one wanted a pumking pie and a cherry pie, which you were finished making it and now letting it bake in the oven, after a hour they were gone baking and you put them out of the oven as the smell of the baked goods filled the kitchen , you couldnt help but sniffing the smell, its was beutiful and very delicious as you put them on the table covering them with a soft mistress so they can rest for a bit as you leaved the kitchen, you make your way to the to the outside to grab some things for your next baked goods, as you walked in the streets of england, you admired the beutifull weather and its was still afternoon so you could still admire the weather as you stopped at your favorite shop, you went inside and greeted the old lady whom always give you the right things and treated you kindly which you appriceted a lot
" hello dear, is it the usual again? " she said giving you a warm smile
"Yes, the usual " you giggled as she handed you , your stuffs which were baking poweder, sugar, sugar, vanillia, cinnamons, strawberries , cheeries and pumking as you take them from her hands you paid for the things you bought and thanked her then leaved as you were walking you were too drifted in your thoughts about the butler that you couldnt the man in front of you which you bumped into , your head hitted his hard chest you hear his gentle voice " miss, are you alright? " he says while his one of this arm holding your waist and one of them holding your bags, as you turned to look at him , you regonized him, its was ciel's butler sebastain, as the realzetoin hitted you , your cheeks started to get cherry red
" oh!, am so sorry sir! " You say as you get more flustered and embressed , he gives you a polite smile " dont worry miss, theres nothing to worry about " sebastain says as he gives your bags
" thank you sir, i really appricete it" you say to him with a smile
" its was my pleasure miss" he says in the gentlest tone making your heart skip a beat as the butler about to make his leave he stopped his tracks and come to you " by the way, my master really liked your baked goods miss , i must say you are quite good at it too " he smiles at you then he speaks again " oh and one more thing, my master wanted to give this letter , its has his orders in it, he hopes you can make them in 3 days and i shall be the one who will come and pick his orders, until then i hope you will manage to finish them miss " he says as he hands you to the letter and leaves , as he was out of your sight , you were left with the letter in your hand and you wondered what his orders , a spark of caruoistiy hit you but you remind yourself that you need to go to your home and read it there since you were carrying your bags still so you made your way to your bakery and as you arrive , you put your things on the table and place them on the closet which you put your baking stuffs there, as you close the closet , you were left with the letter as you open to read it, its was written prefectly with a perfect english, and in the letter it was written that master ciel wanted a cherry pie which to your luck you have enough things to make that also he mentoined that he wants an freshed baked buns as you give them to the butler he thanked you and leaved giving you a smile then he leaved with his bags after he leaved , you were left alone and you make your way to the kitchen to make the cherry pie and the other things he wanted from you , you papared the intgitedents for the pie , and you diced to make it , papering the things for the pie , as you were peraping the things, you give flour its shape and made it suitable so you can put it on its on iron shaped palate, as you finished putting the pie covering it with a thin balanket so no bugs wont lay on it, as you put the balanket on the pie so that no bugs could lay on it or leave thier dirt on it after all you worked so hard to make it and you also put it on the frige so it wont get rotten , as you put it on the frige, you felt proud of yourself that you manged to finish your tasks for today, you were quite tired and you wanted to rest a bit so you sit on the couch , trying to catch your breath and relax for a bit, as you were sitting on the couch, you opened the letter, you read it once again, you realized that master ciel wanted a pumking deseret as well so with that, you started to make the dessert as well, while the cheery pie rests , you started to make the pumking dessert and cutting the pumking and.pelling it its skin after that you put the pumking slices on the boiling pout , making them cook for an hour as they cook, you papered some nuts to sprinkle on the pumking pie dessert once you finish carcking the nuts,and turining them into a dust, you place them on a plate. You also checked your pumkings too, which they were done boiling so you take them out of the pout, and put some sugar on them then the nuts that you cracked and you turned into a dust, you spirnkle on them , making the dessert look more delicous, you put the dessert on the box and put it in the frige, letting it rest, as you were finished your work , you hoped that ciel would like the things you made for him, so as the hard working baker that you are , you start cleaning the kitchen which made you tired after cleaning it , you were so tired making his orders made you waste all your engery well so after you done cleaning the kitchen you make your way to your bed room, letting yourself sleep after working so hard today, as you lay down in the soft mattress, you closed your eyes and drift to the dream land as you sleep, you see him in front of you and he leans in and whispers softly.
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lale-txt · 2 years
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Raffle Prize: midnight hearts w/ Mihawk & gn!reader
a/n: 2nd prize for @mangekyuou (⺣◡⺣)♡* Zuk asked for a night garden date where reader proposes to Mihawk and i was on my knees for this prompt. in so many ways. this was supposed to be 1k words only but i ran a little with it. thank you for letting me write something so fluff and tender, i really loved working on this! sending kisses mwah <3
word count: 2.3k
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Kuraigana Island was lonely without him. 
Mihawk had kissed you goodbye a week ago before he set sail to a warlord meeting. You knew he despised them and most of the time he simply didn‘t attend those meetings, mumbling something about how he‘d rather spend time with you in the garden, but this one was mandatory. After all his status as warlord guaranteed him and you the protection to live on this island in blissful solitude, just him, you and a few dozen baboons. It was the first place you called home.
„Let‘s have a date night once you‘re back, okay?“, you mumbled between two kisses, your arms wrapped around his neck as you stood on tiptoes in the doorframe. „Let me spoil you a bit.“
“Shouldn‘t that be my turn? After leaving you here all by yourself…“ Mihawk‘s piercing eyes searched for yours and made you weak from the way he looks at you with worry, furrowed brows as he cups your face with both hands. You leaned into his touch, then pulled him down again to kiss away his sorrows.
„Well, someone‘s gotta look after the garden, right? I‘ll be alright, my love. You got my vivre card and I got yours. I bet you would be here in a heartbeat if anything happened.“
Mihawk wrapped his arms tighter around you and placed a kiss on top of your head. When you first met him you wouldn‘t have thought that he was the clingy type; he came off as distant and cold, harsh even. Sure, he had granted you shelter and took care of your wounds when you were washed up on this island, a traveling merchant being ship-wrecked. But he wasn‘t a man of many words, and those that he said to you were rather insulting then soothing, scolding you for underestimating the tides and dangers of the Grand Line.
In contrast to that he still left you breakfast on the table every morning and put out a second wine glass for you when he opened an expensive looking bottle at night before he retreated to the living room, reading a novel in his armchair, often falling asleep over it. You threw a blanket over him in return and the fire in the chimney dipped him into warm shades of red and orange, making his sharp eyes glow even more when they sleep-drunkenly crossed your gaze. Like two cats you slowly approached each other over time, giving the other one space but also seeking warmth. Once your wounds healed, you started helping him out in the garden to show your gratitude and then one day he simply handed you a key.
„This is your home, too.“
You stared at him in disbelief; over the past couple of weeks you had assumed he would simply kick you out once you were back to full health and your ship was fixed. The thought of it hurt you more than you wanted to admit, because it meant that this foolish heart of yours had already decided where it belonged to, who it belonged to. And he was standing right in front of you, irritated by the tears falling from your eyes as your fist closed around the key. Mihawk pulled you into a hug and all tension fell from your shoulders as you sank into his embrace, crying softly against his chest while your heart crumbled, only held together by a pair of strong arms and his low voice mumbling out your name, almost apologetically. 
And so you settled down and started selling produce and homemade jams and pies at a nearby farmers market twice a month instead of traveling the seas, coming home to a set table and Mihawk with an apron around his waist, treating you to dinner after a long day. Over time you both eased into a domestic routine, and one night Mihawk kissed you in the garden under the wisteria, fireflies dancing around you. It felt like a dream and sometimes it still does when you wake up next to him in the morning, tangled up in the sheets together in perfect unison.
Whenever he was gone for a warlord meeting, you would check his vivre card before bed, your heart sighing in relief when you saw it in perfect condition. Mihawk was strong, you knew you didn‘t have to worry about him, but you still felt calmer after making sure. Just in case. The world news have been rough these days and made you wonder if you could stay here in your blissful solitude forever or would be forced to relocate one day. Whatever happened, you knew Mihawk would always be by your side, protecting you.
You had no doubts about forever, but lately you found yourself thinking about his elegant hands more often, wondering what they would look like with a gold band around his ring finger, sealing the promise you gave each other without words long ago…
The next morning you wake up to the smell of pancakes and a vinyl playing softly in the background and your heart leaps in your chest, knowing your lover has returned. You kick back the covers and don‘t bother changing, just run as fast as you can down the winding stairs into the kitchen, not slowing down until you fling yourself into Mihawk‘s arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent you‘ve yearned for so long.
„Welcome home, my love“, you mumble and wrap your arms tighter around his neck. „I missed you so much.“
Mihawk hums and plasters the side of your neck with kisses until you raise your head and look at him, a gaze full of love, and lean in for a deep kiss, one that sparks a fire inside of you. You could stay like this forever, but now that he was home again you had a special date night to prepare… but first, a tower of pancakes is waiting for you.
You spend the morning talking and cuddling, having a slow breakfast together and a warm bath afterwards. Mihawk relaxes visibly when you wash his back for him, letting out a deep sigh and sinking into your embrace as you hug him from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder, just two souls relieved about being reunited again. Later on, while Mihawk unpacks, it‘s your turn to take over the kitchen and prepare everything for the night. Your lover offers his help, but you gently guide him outside by his shoulders and order him to relax. You find him fast asleep on the couch soon after, an open book on his chest. He must have been more tired than he ever would admit — even more reason to spoil him tonight.
Once the sun sets, you both get dressed for the date night. Mihawk wears a white linen shirt, half unbuttoned, combined with a pair of tight black pants. It is a simple yet effective outfit and you can‘t take your eyes off his marbled figure, the sharp eyes and his hands, oh, his hands… You smile when he leans down to help you fasten your necklace, a birthday gift from him, and close your eyes when he tilts your head slightly for a kiss. Small gestures like this make your heart jump and for a second you‘re tempted to ask him right here, right now, because your love never needed grand entrances, it was stored in faint touches and the longing in his gaze across the room. 
Hand in hand you make your way to the garden and your heart beats so loudly in your chest with excitement. You feel so sure about this and yet there is always this slight fear that you‘ll wake up and realize it was all just a dream. Mihawk squeezes your hand and gives you a warm smile, almost as if he could hear your thoughts loud and clear, and you calm down a little, the warm touch of his hand in yours reassuring you that you had nothing to worry. This is the hand you will hold for as long as you dance under the same sky.
„You did all of this? You shouldn‘t have…“
Mihawk takes you in his arms and kisses the top of your head when you show him the spot you prepared, a big blanket under the wisteria, fairy lights hanging from every branch and dipping the garden into a soft, warm light. A bottle of his favorite wine and a selection of snacks which you made from scratch are ready for you to enjoy and you feel really proud of yourself when he looks at you so full of adoration. 
You both take a seat, leaning against the trunk of the old tree, shoulder to shoulder, taking the magic of the garden at night fully in. It‘s a mild night but you still scoot closer to Mihawk, craving his touch more than anything. His hand finds yours and your fingers intertwine, and you close your eyes for a moment as you let your head sink onto his shoulder. Your soul never felt more at peace.
„I love you“, you whisper into the dark and smile when he places a kiss on the back of your hand, squeezing it tighter. „You have my whole heart.“
„And you have mine.“ Mihawk kisses your forehead and you can feel him smiling against your skin. How did you get so lucky? You don‘t know the answer, but you‘re treasuring every second of this. “I never believed in fate, but when you got washed ashore at the coast… that night, I was on my knees.“ 
“And I thought you hated me“, you chuckle. „I was terrified of you. It was like your eyes stared right through me…“
„And I saw your heart. Your beautiful, golden heart. Beating, drumming, clinging onto this life so desperately. I wanted to protect it more than anything.“
You feel tears welling up in your eyes and quickly wipe them away, sighing when Mihawk cradles your face with his other hand, fingertips brushing over your skin and leaving nothing but warmth. You snuggle closer to him, embracing his touch. Your voice is soft and dripping with love when you speak.
„I knew I was in love with you when I saw you standing there in the kitchen one morning. You didn‘t notice me, or maybe you did but didn‘t let it show. And you hummed to the tune of the vinyl playing, one of my favorite songs, a cup of coffee in your hands while you waited for the eggs to cook and you looked so… peaceful. And my heart just yearned for this. For a quiet life. A simple breakfast with the one who touched my soul, handpicked flowers on the table. The absence of fear.“
You let out a surprised gasp when Mihawk wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in his lap, both of his hands cupping your face as he gently guides you to his lips. His heart beats fast under your palms when you rest your hands on his bare chest and sink deeper into the kiss. The moon shines brightly, illuminating the whole garden and it feels like everything has aligned for this moment, the vast night sky your stage. You feel a tugging on your heartstrings as you break away from his lips, seeking his gaze.
„I want to grow old with you, Mihawk. No matter what the future holds, I want us to face it, side by side, with your hand in mine. Maybe it‘s foolish and naive, but when I close my eyes, I see us in the garden and my heart feels at peace. I don‘t need much. Just you and your kisses and my heart is full already. I love you.“ You rest your forehead against his and close your eyes. „So if you feel the same… will you marry me?“
Before you can fumble for the ring in your pocket, Mihawk‘s lips crash against yours, taking your breath away. You can‘t tell how long the kiss lasts because it‘s one that makes you forget your own name and takes you into higher spheres, just two souls melting into one, no words needed to give you an answer to your question. You laugh and you cry when you pull away for an inch, lips hovering over his. Mihawk held you tight and is now reaching for your hand. 
„You beat me to it…“ Within the blink of an eye he slides a ring over your finger and brings your hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your palm before he cradles his face in there, eyes closed. „You are all I need. You‘re my home. Let‘s share a life together and fill every day with laughter and memories sweeter than honey, my love, my everything…“
„What…?“, you stare at the ring on your finger in pure disbelief and let out a raspy laugh. Out of all scenarios you imagined this wasn‘t one of them. You felt dizzy, your whole body vibrating with pure joy. Here you are, wanting to surprise him and yet…
„Took a small detour on my way home. Do you like it?“ 
You try to hold back your tears but it‘s pointless, instead you simply take his hand and finally put a ring on his finger as well. Everything was a blur of lights and colors but you can see his heart, how bright it was shining for you, guiding you through the darkest nights into eternity, two lovers dancing upon the stars.
Forever and beyond, in this life and every life after that; for as long as you would meet under the wisteria again, hearts beating in unison.
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direwolfrules · 6 months
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EAH Glee AU
I do not have time right now to work on my actual writing- midterms are done so now we're just jumping right into final papers- but have an AU outline post.
Professor Pied Piper, taking inspiration from some of his best high school memories, gets Headmaster Grimm to reinstate the school glee club.
Meanwhile, Madame Baba Yaga fears the new activity will steal away talent from her prize cheer-hexing team, the Ever After High Cheerios (I can’t think of a good fairytale-ification for this, I will accept suggestions). To rectify this situation, she sends in three of her girls undercover with the goal of sabotaging the glee club.
Basically, Pied Piper is Will Schuester, Baba Yaga is Sue Sylvester, and chaos ensues.
Glee Club Members:
Apple White: She joined because 1) she's good at singing 2) she genuinely enjoys singing 3) her mom was in the Glee Club and led them to winning Nationals. I'd say she's the Rachel Berry or the Quinn Fabray, but I'm not gonna do that thing where I entirely change a character's personality to make them fit into the role of another character...for the students anyway. Look, Apple's got enough drama in her life, she doesn't need me making her crazy enough to send someone to a crack house out of jealousy.
Raven: Uh, in the books Headmaster Grimm won't let her take Muse-ic because it's not an evil class. Luckily, because of a bizarre loophole in the school guidelines for competitive teams, Headmaster Grimm can't ban her from Glee Club. Everyone say thank you Giles.
Daring: He joined because he was told it would give him extra credit for the serenading skills portion of Advanced Wooing. Also, Apple asked him to join because they didn't have enough boys in the club and Daring's been trained to never ignore a request from a damsel.
Dexter: He’s there cause Raven’s there? And also cause he is a genuinely great singer and unlike Daring needs the Advanced Wooing extra credit? Also, I just kinda want him there.
Darling: Her mom made her join. Queen Charming really said “I’m gonna take a page from Snow White’s book and live vicariously through you, offspring of mine”.
Briar: She really likes the idea of a team competition where she won’t put her teammates in danger if she falls asleep. Also, she checked the competition rulebook, as long as they don’t all leave the stage when she has a narcoleptic episode they won’t be disqualified.
Humphrey: Every Glee AU needs a white-boy-who raps and Ever After High has one already built-in in the form of Humphrey Dumpty.
Maddie: She’s there cause Raven’s there. It’s utterly hattastic!
Kitty: She’s there because she remembered her mom talking about how some of her fondest memories of high school revolves around messing with the glee club, and Kitty wants dearly to be like her mother.
Lizzie: We’re completing the Wonderland ensemble. Lizzie joins because she needs an extra curricular and the Invisible Tree Situation has gotten so out of hand they had to disband the croquet team. Great voice, ngl.
Justine: Not the strongest singer in the room, but she’s capable of choreographing numbers like nobody’s business.
Meeshell: Listen, canon’s pretending her singing in that webisode was something amazing. So like, we’re pretending now too.
Duchess: I picture her as a Sugar Motta-type character. Cannot sing, massive diva, but they gotta put up with her cause her family’s donating to the club budget.
Melody: Listen, it’s her dad’s club. She can’t just not join. She’s banking those supportive daughter points for a rainy day.
Lawrence Bonecrusher III: Listen, I just it'd be funny if Professor Piper says the ever-insane "You're all minorities, you're in the glee club" line and there's the one orc student in the school just sitting there with his eyebrow raised. He's also the Matt of this AU. For some reason never speaks when in a scene.
Faybelle: Captain of the Cheerios, totally not here as part of a scheme by Madame Yaga to DESTROY THE GLEE CLUB!!!!
Nah, but seriously, this whole AU was born of me going "What EAH character would say the iconic 'I'm a closeted lesbian and a judgemental bitch' line?" and her face popped into my mind.
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