#I spent to much time on it and I know it will get zero notes but I don't care I'm just insane and love it
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cosyvelvetorchid · 2 days ago
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@bucktommyfluffebruary Day 8: Surprise
Another of my prompts from last year that fit.
*****
Rated T | 2,430 | tw: homophobic slur
Buck knew that Tommy loved a romcom. He liked lots of genres of movies, and all for different reasons. But romcoms he loved because of the fantasy of them. He’d told Buck once that growing up with a father like his, and then spending the majority of his adult years firmly tucked away in the closet, that he’d wholeheartedly believed that a true love or romance was not in his own future. That living vicariously through two people on screen, even if they were straight, was the closest thing he’d get to a happy ending.
He’d very much changed his mind since he’d met his Evan, but still Buck had been determined to give him all the romantic moments he’d missed out on over his life.
It started with surprising Tommy with a candle lit dinner ready when he came home from work.. Which ended with Buck being bent over the table as dessert. Not quite the emotional response he was going for, but hey who was he to say no to that!
Tommy mentioned once a book he loved as kid and Buck spent three weeks hunting down a first edition. He was certainly blown away by Bucks thoughtfulness and showed him immediately by getting on his knees. Again Buck was happy to oblige—he always was—but it still wasn’t the response he was truly hoping for.
He wanted to sweep Tommy entirely off his feet. Woo him to the point of breathlessness. Make him feel so unbelievably cherished and loved that he forgets out to speak.
And then the idea hit him.
Oddly, while watching Carrie.
“Man, the worst thing that happened at our senior prom was Mikey Jacobs spiking the punch. I still can’t drink Jack Daniels” Buck reminisced.
“Better than pigs blood, babe. Or, you know, the revenge by telekinesis.”
“True. What about you? What was yours like?”
Tommy sighed. “I, uh, didn’t go to mine.”
“Really?” Buck looked at him in surprise. “I mean granted you were secretly gay, but I know the girls would have been killing each other to get the Tommy Kinard to take them to prom.” The idea seemed to bring such joy to his Evans face that Tommy almost didn’t want to admit the reality.
“I appreciate the support, babe, but I wasn’t exactly drowning in dates with girls.” He laughed “I was 6’2” by the time I was 15 but I didn’t know how to build muscle or even eat right for my body’s needs. I went from 5’8” and over weight to 6’2” and skinny, which my dad just loved to point out constantly. I was super insecure and had zero confidence to ask a a girl out.” A look of sadness flickered across his face.
“Did people not go stag at your school?”
Tommy huffed a cold laugh. “Only fags and virgins go stag to a prom, Thomas.” He mimicked his father’s voice. Buck gently rubbed Tommys arm.
“I’m sorry you had to hear shit like that from your dad. You deserved so much better than that.”
“I know that now and mostly because of you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Bucks lips and smiled.
“Good.” He smiled back, already formulating his next plan to woo the shit out of his boyfriend.
This one took a few weeks of planning but Buck was certain it would knock Tommys socks off.
****
Tommy was surprised that Lucy had suddenly turned up at Harbour on what was supposed to be her day off. Even more surprised when she offered, nay insisted that she take Tommys remaining 24 hours of his 48 hours shift.
In the end their Captain had to practically shove him out of the harbour doors to get him out. He eventually relented and left for home.
Approaching their front door he noticed a note in handwriting so bad it had to be Bucks. God did he love him but the man’s penmanship looked like a doctor’s. A drunk doctor’s. Wearing a plaster cast. Thankfully after almost a year together he’d learned how to decipher Evans scribbles.
“Go straight upstairs.
Shower and get dressed..”
“Huh?”
“Don’t “huh” me, Kinard. Just do it. Then meet me in the dining room.
P.s: love you, Your Evan.”
Tommy chuckled to himself but did as he was asked and walked straight up the stairs to their bedroom. He was surprised, and confused, to see his tux freshly pressed and laid out on their bed.
After showering and dressing he made his way back down found himself knocking on his own dining room door for permission to enter.
“Come in.” Evans voice called from inside.
Tommy opened the door his mouth and eyes opened wide at what he saw.
The table had been pushed to the side wall, with a black cloth draped over the top, atop of which was a punch bowl filled with an orangey pink liquid. Surrounding it was lots of bowls filled with candy and chips and other kids favourite snacks.
A shiny disco ball hung from the ceiling with paper decorations swinging from the Center of the room and up to the corners. Twinkling lights hung all around giving the room a gorgeous warm glow.
And standing in the centre of the dining room, under the disco ball, in a tux that fit him so incredibly perfectly was the most beautiful man Tommy had ever seen.
“What’s.. what’s going on?” Tommy asked not being able to hide his smile.
Evan took a few steps toward him and held out his hand. “Thomas Kinard. Will you go to prom with me?” Every time Tommy thinks he can’t fall in love with Evan any more, he’s proven wrong.
For the next two hours they do nothing but dance like idiots, drink spiked punch (tequila instead of Jack Daniel’s this time - buck would actually like to remember this prom), and snack on junk food.
Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he had let loose like this. Or even smiled this hard. Evan was by far the greatest joy to ever come into his life. He reminded Tommy of what fun was, what joy was and what it felt like to be truly unashamedly himself - something that nobody had ever made him felt safe enough to truly be.
Buck knew he’d achieved his task of sweeping Tommy off his feet tonight already, but there was one more thing he decided, last minute, that he was going to do.
Buck picked up his phone and searched for the perfect song, settling on Songbird by Eva Cassidy because it was on the soundtrack to Tommy’s favourite movie Love, Actually. He didn’t even need to do anything because as soon as the opening bars played through the speaker Tommy instantly knew what it was and pulled Buck into a slow dance.
They swayed slowly and silently for a few moments just breathing in the perfect moment with each other with Tommys arms wrapped around Bucks waist and Bucks arms around his neck.
“So, not that I’m complaining, babe, what with all the romancing lately?” Tommy asked.
“You deserve it.” Was Bucks simply reply. Tommy looked at him with a mixture of adoration with a hint of confusion. “You go out of your way to show me how much you love me and to do all these sweet and romantic things for me, but you deserve them too. You deserve to be shown how much you mean to me also.” Tommy was looking at him with those eyes again - the big bright ones Buck first saw right before he kissed him for the first time - and he had to use every bit of strength to hold back from jumping him, because he needed to say this before his courage disappeared.
“I see how you look at these little moments in the romcoms you love and I hate that you never got to experience them, so I wanted you to have some of them of your own. Our own. Plus, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to tell you just how much I love you. To tell you how unbelievably happy I am that you walked, well, flew into my life. To tell you that I have never in all of my life thought that I deserved to have someone so beautiful and kind and wonderful and just fucking incredible as you. And.. and to ask you to marry me.”
Tommy blinked. Did he hear that correctly?
“Wh-what?”
“I know, it’s- we’ve not even been together a full year yet, and full disclosure I didn’t even know I was going to ask until, like, 10 minutes ago, so I don’t even have a ring, and-“ Tommy grabbed Buck either side of his neck and pressed his lips firmly against his. When Tommy pulled back his cheeks were wet with tears cascading over his beautiful lower lashes. Finally, Buck thought, though he kept that to himself.
“Hold that thought.” He said simply before quickly leaving the room. He took 2 steps at a time as he hurtled upstairs, before running back down seconds later back to Buck still stood in the center of the dining room.
He lifted up his palm on top of which was a dark blue velvet box, opened, with 2 tarnished silver bands of differing sizes, each with a shiny silver strip running around the centre of each of them.
“You bought.. how long have you..” Buck could barely get the words out. His eyes kept flicking between Tommys beautiful face and the rings in his hand.
“About a month. Well, I ordered them custom made about 2 months ago but I’ve had them for a month.”
“Custom?” Was all Buck could get out.
Tommy pointed to the shiny part of the rings. “A couple of years ago I had this rescue and the husband of the woman we were life flighting was telling us about how they met. Anyway, he said that his family had this tradition of putting something sentimental in the band to give to your partner as.. sort of as a piece of you. You know that piece of metal that sits on my desk in the study?”
“Y-yeah. It’s part of the blade from the first chopper you flew when you transferred to harbour.”
“Right. Well, it now has a little chunk missing.” He laughed. “Transferring to the 217 was the first piece of me finally becoming who I always wanted to be. You’re the last piece, Evan.”
Buck had this whole night planned—minus is own spontaneous proposal—and had wanted Tommy to be the feeling pleasantly surprised and loved.. yet here he was himself being loved so fucking beautifully it was taking everything within him to not break apart right there.
“What’s-what’s in your ring?” He asked.
“Well, that was.. a little trickier. And full disclosure on my part— Maddie knows because I had to enlist her help.”
“Okay..”
“It’s difficult to pick something when your boyfriend loves so many things,” he teased “and then Maddie.. she gave me a little silver bracelet that she was given as a kid and-“
Buck inhaled a breath when he realised what bracelet Tommy was referring to. Immediately his whole chin began to quiver and tears filled his eyes.
“The one that Daniel gave to her.”
“Yeah.” Tommy said softly. “She told me how he’d seen it one day when he was with your grandparents when he was 6 or something and insisted he give to her for her birthday.” Buck nodded, not being able to find words. “She said that this would be something that would be special to you because you never got to know him. Is-is that okay?”
Buck looked from the ring back to up Tommy; eyes completely blurred from tears pouring out of him.
“I.. this..” He could always find peace in Tommy eyes but this was all so- it was overwhelming and.. he took a deep breath to try and calm himself.
“Tommy, this whole night was-was supposed to be about you.. a-and showing you just how much to mean to me and then..” he blew out another breath trying to center himself “and then here you are with the most beautiful fucking gesture, I.. I can’t..” The tears flowed once again and this time he threw his arms around Tommys neck and held on tight. Tommy, as he always did, reciprocated and held him tightly back.
“I love you so fucking much.” He cried into Tommys neck. Tommys own tears were flowing too, now.
“God I love you, too, Evan. More than I could ever even show you.”
“I don’t know-“ Buck pulled back with a laugh “I think you hit it out of the ball park with this one.” He gently thumbed Tommys tears from his cheeks. He looked closer at the rings.
“Are there inscriptions?”
“Only on yours.” Tommy replied, sniffing.
“For my Evan. Always.” Buck read out loud. Tommy wiped away Bucks next tears that came. They were the only type of tears he ever wanted to illicit from his Evan.
“I thought you would what to decide what to inscribe on my ring.”
“Can I put it on you now?” Tommy asked.
“Uh, technically I should be putting yours on you because I asked first. Actually, you haven’t actually said yes by the way..”
Tommy reached up an gently fixed a curlon Bucks head and looked at him with those big earnest eyes again.
“Yes.”
Buck took his ring out of the box and slid it onto Tommy finger, then Tommy did the same with Bucks ring.
Buck gripped the lapels of Tommys tux and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed into it. It wasn’t a kiss that they’d shared before; this one was full of promise, of hope, a future - the rest of their lives as husbands.
Tommy pulled back for a second “By the way, I did promise Maddie that the second we became engaged that we would face time her. Where’s your phone?”
“She can wait a little bit.” Buck replied aiming his lips at Tommys neck.
“You sure? She might be mad.” Buck lifted up and looked Tommy in the eyes.
“Tommy, there’s only one thing I want to do right now and it absolutely does not involve my sister.”
“She can wait a little bit.” Tommy repeated wrapping his arms around his Evans neck and pulling him in for another deep kiss.
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renthony · 2 days ago
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Goddammit I have things to say about Arcane again. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have never been this obsessed with a show that pissed me off so much. Fucking hell.
Longish critical post under the cut.
Husband and I are re-watching Arcane from the beginning, specifically so we can do some critical analysis and frame-by-framing. This watch, I'm really fixated on the way Vi is reintroduced after being in prison, because it does not make any goddamn sense.
If Stillwater is primarily full of Zaunites working for Silco, and Vi is constantly fighting with them, but she's also constantly being tortured by the enforcers...who the fuck is watching her back? How is she alive? Yes, she has a solitary cell, but we see her let out into the common areas. If she has that many enemies in Stillwater, how has she survived this long? The answer seems to be "plot armor," and that's...not a good answer.
If she has literally zero allies in prison, and she is hated by both the inmates and the guards, she'd be dead. Even if we're supposed to assume Marcus gave the order to the other enforcers to keep her alive, we know for a fact that the enforcers are still abusing her, so they clearly don't actually give a shit, nor do they stop the other inmates from fighting with her.
Like, I don't care how much of a badass she is, she has to sleep sometimes. She has to eat sometimes. She has to take a piss sometimes. She is clearly in fighting-fit shape, she is clearly healthy enough to immediately start parkouring all over Zaun after release, so who's letting her have access to workout equipment? You don't get or stay that jacked just by punching a wall. How's she getting enough calories? You don't get the good food if everyone in the prison hates you. For all that she makes a joke to Caitlyn about prison food tasting awful, she is clearly not malnourished.
And who the fuck did her tattoos????? They're extensive and fairly high-quality. If someone else did them, who was she on good enough terms with? If she did it herself, who liked her enough to smuggle, sell, or share supplies with her?
It really wouldn't bug me as much if it weren't for the fact that the narrative seems to want me to see her as a forgotten loner who has nobody in her corner until Caitlyn. Fundamentally, that cannot be true, or Vi would have been murdered and dumped in the water long before Cait showed up.
Also, if Silco has that many people in Stillwater, how does he not have his fingers in the prison smuggling operation that clearly exists? I don't buy it. If he owns Marcus' ass that hard, and he's already involved in smuggling, he'd have spies and smugglers in Stillwater, too. I do not believe that Silco has the power and the confidence to casually threaten Marcus by showing up in the man's personal home, but not enough power and confidence to get spies into a prison that's already full of his own allies/underlings.
There are definitely possible answers to some of these questions, and I certainly have my own headcanons, but it really doesn't feel like the writers' room spent a lot of time thinking about the actual social issues and politics that they invoked for aesthetic.
Usually this is where I'd say, "I wonder what the S&P notes looked like, and I wonder how many episodes they got screwed out of, because so much of this could have been fixed with a little more runtime." Sadly, based on the shit that keeps coming out of Christian Linke's mouth, I don't think we can blame the corporate office for this one. If Christian Linke is telling the truth and the show got all the episodes they wanted, my ever-present "TV writers keep getting screwed, so I have to analyze the finished product with the knowledge that the creators likely got fucked over" goodwill completely vanishes.
The problem really seems to be that the show was written by centrists with a fundamentally flawed understanding of class struggle, drug use, the drug trade, and the prison-industrial complex. It's not surprising, but it does disappoint me.
And while I'm thinking about it, why is Shimmer somehow both drinkable and injectable in seemingly the same form???? Drugs can absolutely come in different forms, but we see people drink the exact same type of shimmer that other people inject. You don't drink injectable drugs. Fuck's sake, this is Skooma levels of "the writers just threw every scary-sounding drug in a blender to make Scary Super Drugs without knowing anything about how real-world drugs work."
Also, if the Firelights' big thing is that they hate Silco Because Of Drugs, I really wanna know how the hell Ekko found that many straight-edge anarchists willing to build a secret compound together. Are they against all drugs, or just shimmer? Where's their line?
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estcaligo · 8 months ago
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Made this list while I was in the mood
Classical music pieces that I associate with twst characters
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* these pieces are available to listen to on youtube. Perhaps I will make a video with them one day. But I doubt it. * I apologize for any mistakes, it was a lot of information to digest * updated because I forgot to add Presto for Malleus, sorry!
Malleus - Vivaldi - The Four Seasons - "Summer" - 1 Allegro Non Molto and 3 Presto (I mean of course these ones. Add evil overblot laugh here too.) ok also Schubert - Erlkönig (The Elf King), D. 328
Sebek - Prokofiev - Romeo and Juliet, Suite No. 2, The Montagues and Capulets "Dance of the Knights" (it's just him. period.) or Rachmaninov - Musical Moment No.4 in E minor or Rachmaninov - Prelude in C Sharp Minor (Rachmaninov for Sebek in general lol)
Silver - Grieg - Peer Gynt, Suite no. 1 "Morning mood" or Debussy - Clair de lune (from "Suite bergamasque") (Yes, basic, but it fits so so much so)
Lilia - Chopin - Fantaisie impromptu in C-Sharp minor, Op. 66 (first notes - Lilia's evil grin, then whimsical nature and the whirl of memories of countries he has been to. When it goes hard, it's cooking, some violence, and then when it gets gentle, it's when he remembers Silver's childhood. Then he softens in general but also reminds us about his playful nature and strong character.)
Idia - Vivaldi - The Four Seasons - "Winter" - 1 Allegro Non Molto (resembles how Idia speaks when he's getting confident and how his character, in general, opens up. And kinda gives me his genius vibes)
Ortho - Graun - Gigue in B-Flat minor (sounds like super-fast calculation is going on. But also, some notes sound like random signals and/or signs of creativity/sudden thoughts in AI) also Chopin - Etude Op. 10 No. 5 (Black Keys)
*Erik Satie for Octa in general. Gives me mysterious underwater vibes*
Azul - Satie - Gnossienne No. 1 and Gymnopedie no.1 also kinda Chopin - Nocturne Op. 9 No. 1 (pondering, deep in thought, underwater, calculating, but also melancholic…)
Jade - Satie - Gnossienne No.3 (such big Jade vibes)
Floyd - Liszt - Mephisto Waltz No. 1 (hehe)
Leona - Haydn - Symphony No. 49 in F minor ' La Passione ' (it's long, but it's worth listening. I just imagine Leona's character and lore in general here)
Jack - Händel - Suite no. 11 in D minor. Sarabande (not really sure about this one. But it gives me 'strength and determination and values' vibes today)
Ruggie - Mozart - Symphony No. 40 in G minor, IV. Allegro assai (reminds me how he can adapt and be different if needed. Also, it sounds quite boisterous, like Ruggie is going fast, fast, fast and earning a lot, lot, lot!)
Kalim - Mozart - The Marriage of Figaro, K. 492: Overture (specifically wanting to throwa feast)
Jamil - Chopin - Waltz in E minor, Op. Posth. (he's so skillful and makes it look like he's not even trying, but he's super hardworking. Also, some parts sound like his occasional emotional outbursts) also - Chopin - Prelude in E Minor (I can't explain it, but it's just Jamil for me. I feel so sorry for him - he's such a cool and talented (and handsome) guy, and such destiny mgd. Or maybe I'm just in a melancholic mood today)
Vil - Vivaldi - The Four Seasons - “Spring” - 1 Allegro (won't be original meh. like there're so many classical pieces that fit Vil but I don't really wanna bother here so)
Rook - Mozart - Le Nozze di Figaro: "Non più andrai, farfallone amoroso" (instrumental) (ookay it was hard with Rook because I think a lot fits him but I'll stop with this one or I'll never finish this list)
Epel - Litvinovsky - Pelléas and Mélisande: III. Galliard. Navire dans la tempête (Galliard. Ship in a storm) (unrelated but my life is divided into before seeing Epel in Book 7 dreams and after)
Riddle - Beethoven - Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67 I. Allegro con brio (duh. basic but c'mon. it suits him)
Ace - Litvinovsky - Suite for Strings "Le Grand Cahier": IV. Nos Etudes (yes that's how I feel Ace)
Deuce - Tchaikovsky - The Nutcracker Suite, Op. 71a: March of the Toy Soldiers (Deuce the honour student edition)
Cater - Beethoven : Sonatina in F Major plus "a glimpse of a depressed real Cater" one - Chopin - Mazurka in A minor, Op.17, No.4
Trey - Beethoven - Sonata No. 8 in C Minor Pathetique, Op. 13 (Adagio cantabile) (I tried to find someting "normal" meh so went with this today)
Special mentions
Rollo - Mozart - Requiem, 3 Dies Irae Bach - Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 565 Orff - Carmina Burana: Fortuna imperatrix mundi. O fortuna (super super obvious but c'mon it's basically canon)
Baul - Wagner - Ride of the Valkyries (ya Baul has big Wagner vibes for me)
Grim - Edvard Grieg – In the Hall of the Mountain King (the escalation lol)
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k-hotchoisan · 7 months ago
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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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sceletaflores · 5 months ago
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woo, my baby's got me all mixed up!
feat: logan howlett & wade wilson
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, swearing, a bastard doomed polycule, more of 'why have just one bf when you can two bf's and why have just two bf's when you can have two bf's that are also each other’s bf's???', p in v, double penetration, one (1) single use of daddy, creampie(s), fingering...kind of (fem!receiving), oral sex, face sitting, face fucking, straight up nasty porn w/ zero plot, no use of y/n.
nat’s note: this is a shorter one-shot but i can't not format it like a full fic i have to or i'll get hives. this is also just pure freak nasty gross actually probably the filthiest thing i've ever written that i thought up off too much nyquil pm last night. kisses!
wade gets to whiskin’ (and logan's there too)…
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"You're killing me babe," Wade groans lowly, cheek pressed to the slick skin of your inner thigh. "If my balls didn't feel like they just got the shit beat out of them in a back alley I'd be as hard as David Hasselhoff watching David Hasselhoff movies."
His hand is at work between your thighs, thick index finger slipped into your sensitive, puffy pussy.
It should gross you out that he loves doing this so much. It should make your stomach twist with all the unpleasant feelings a normal person might get.
It should, but it doesn't.
The familiar stretch is lost from taking Logan and Wade at the same time, a rare thing in your sex life because of how big they both are. But you were in a mood tonight.
Your pussy still clenches around him, trying in vain to tighten up, not used to feeling so empty.
The subtle pressure of Wade’s finger toes the line between pleasure and the sharp burn of 'almost too much' as it swirls along the sensitive walls of your pussy.
The first time he did it you were too fucked out of your mind to do anything other than ask what the hell he was doing.
"Gotta mix it up babe," was his reply, as easy as anything. "Don't want the baby batter to curdle, if you know what I mean."
Your heart stopped, flames lapping their way up your body as Wade scooped the thin line of come trickling from your abused hole to fuck it back in, back where it belonged.
It was so filthy, so depraved that it made you go liquid between your legs.
Your eyes almost immediately slid over to Logan, ready to see him shaking his head in irritation like he usually did whenever Wade ran his mouth in bed. You found nothing, no deep grimace or raised brow in sight.
There was an unmistakable heat in his gaze that matched your own, the inky black of his pupils blown so wide you could hardly see the hazel of his irises.
The casual raise of his right shoulder when he met your eye was undermined by the way his cock started to harden where it laid against his thigh, effectively tattling on him.
It told you all you needed to know about how he really felt watching Wade between your spread legs. That alone was enough to get you ready to go all over again.
It sort of became a thing after that.
"I'm not even doing anything..." you mumble breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Don't have to baby," Logan purrs from behind you, lips pressed to the top of your head. His hand skimming down the side of your body is enough to make goosebumps pebble along your skin, "Look perfect just like this."
It's been hours now, but they're still going. You're convinced that the two of them are the world's biggest horndogs, just once is never enough.
You lost track of tonight's rounds sometime after number five, not counting mouth and hand stuff of course. And it's starting to catch up to you, you’re tired, spent.
Wade curls his finger just right, brushing against the spot inside you that has a broken whine passing through your grit teeth. Your thighs start to tremble as a smug grin spreads across his face.
"Yeah, there it is," he teases, his voice low. He keeps the tip of his finger snug against that spot, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nerves. "That's that spot ain't it, gorgeous."
"Wade," you mewl, hands fisting the sheets as you fight to keep still. You're worried too much squirming will make their come start dripping out around Wade's wrist, and you can't have that.
There’s a sudden silence to your right, the heaviness of it pulling at your attention. You shift slightly, catching the faintest rustle of movement from Logan.
His breath is warm against the crown of your skill, his strong chest still plastered to your back—but he's too quiet, too still. You tilt your head just enough to peek at him out of the corner of your eye, and the sight alone is almost enough to make you come on the spot.
Logan is leaning against the headboard lazily, arm that isn't circled around your waist snaking down his own with the hard length of his cock in his hand.
Your mouth waters at the sight of him, red and leaking pre-come all over his knuckles each time he twists his fist over the thick head. Your hips grind down unconsciously, a needy moan falling from your parted lips. The wet sound of it has your cheeks burning, eyes fixed on the way his heavy balls bounce with each rough tug, still so full.
"Fuck, that's it," Wade murmurs, slipping a second finger inside you while he presses a shit-eating grin to the soft skin of your lower stomach. "You like it when daddy jerks off while I'm knuckle deep in you?"
"Watch it," Logan mutters warningly, tone gone low and dark as spilled ink. His hand doesn't slow, the loose grip of his fist slipping up and down his dripping cock in time with the slick squelch of your pussy.
Your hips buck up against Wade’s hand, a loud whine tearing from your chest at the dirtiness of this whole thing. The familiar heat starts to stir in your belly, your pussy drooling more mess over his wrist the longer he plays with you.
Wade barely muffles his chuckle against your hip, dropping a quick kiss there before pulling his soaked fingers from your velvety warmth. You whine at the loss, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.
You’ll both get what you want soon enough.
"Alright, we should all know the drill by now people," he announces to you and Logan with a loud clap, pulling away from between your thighs to roll flat onto his back.
“Time to hop on the saddle, John Wayne,” he finishes, giving your ass a loving tap.
Logan snorts into your hair, dropping his cock to grab your hips and gently manhandle you until you’re situated directly over Wade’s face while Logan kneels in front of you. The jut of his cock bobbing inches away from your mouth.
Wade’s greedy fingers pry your swollen lips apart to watch the way his and Logan’s come starts to seep out from you, falling to drip onto his bare chest. He blows over the wet length of you, the cool air from his mouth has your hips twitching down in search of any friction you can get.
“Not so fast,” he scolds lightly, grinding his knuckle against the wet seam of you. Your nails dig crescent moons into his scarred shoulders, threatening to break the skin.
“You’ve gotta savor this moment, hot stuff,” he says slowly, leaning up to press a kiss directly over your throbbing clit. “You got the best seat in the house, don’t take it for granted–”
"Enough," Logan grunts, heavy hands falling on your shoulders to push you down on Wade's face, fully closing the gap. "Quit runnin' your damn mouth and make our girl feel good, red."
Wade's hands tighten their hold on your thighs, his hips bucking up off the mattress like he can't help it. His surprised moan rumbles against your clit, loud and shameless.
You cry out at the first drag of his tongue over your aching pussy, hot and wet as it slides through your dripping slit. You pitch forward, too caught up in pleasure to think clearly as you take Logan’s cock into your mouth. You take him all the way down to the root in one swift move, burying your nose in the dark hair surrounding the base. 
"Fuck," Logan bites out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He takes your hair in his fist gently, just holding it as you swallow around him. 
Your hands move to rest on his thick thighs, nails scratching over the hair scattered along his skin. His breath shutters in his chest, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly, chasing the tight heat of your mouth.
The mix of your tongue tracing along the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock and the low, wet sounds of Wade devouring you has him pulsing in your mouth.
Your thighs shake on either side of Wade's head, the steady grip of his hands the only thing that keeps you from collapsing into a boneless heap on the mattress.
Your hips twitch the tiniest bit, rocking forward enough to grind your clit over the slope of his nose. He groans under you, squeezing the meat of your thighs in encouragement as he swirls his tongue through the mess dripping from your hole.
“That’s a good girl,” Logan praises gruffly, his hips speeding up. “Shut him up, baby. Make him fuckin’ eat it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, dragging your pussy along Wade’s mouth faster. You moan desperately around your mouthful, brain going hazy around the edges.
The frantic pace you set only makes their come leak from you faster, dripping down Wade’s face faster than he can keep up, and there's just so much.
A steady, thick stream of it that feels almost never ending thanks to Logan coming like he busted a pipe and absolutely flooding your insides every single time.
Wade doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest though, swirling his tongue along you with a new sense of urgency. His hands grip your hips tighter, his blunt nails digging into your skin deliciously as he slurps and sucks with unbridled enthusiasm, chasing every drop of come.
He’s sloppy with it, come sliding down his cheeks and chin in thin rivers of white.
Logan’s rough breath hitches above you, his fingers tightening in your hair as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks just the way he likes. His growl sends a thrill down your spine.
"C'mon, Wilson," Logan grunts, his hips speeding up. When you peer up at him, you can see the goading smile that just barely tugs the corner of his mouth up.
“Spitters are quitters, you know that."
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tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!
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stil-lindigo · 1 year ago
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The problem is the main things what they’re asking for is impossible for 99% of people, if we take off for a week from our job we lose that job. If we walk out for a week from university (since emailing and asking for notes to catch up undermines the whole point) we miss critical info fail the module and fuck up our degree. sure the side stuff is more acessable but when the main strike idea can’t be put into action your going to have all the momentum and impact of a dead slug, that’s why people are having difficulties.
hi anon. I understand that, and I empathise with the people who want to be doing more but can't, because capitalist society is built to punish us whenever we attempt to fight for a better life. But, again, you're approaching this in an unnecessarily defeatist way. The strike period hasn't even started for the northern hemisphere, and you're comparing the impact of the more 'accessible' strike actions to a dead slug.
I think if you approach resistant action with the idea that only massive gestures are worth anything, you're not going to get anywhere. You can make a difference by volunteering more this week, donating more to Palestinian escape funds and aid organisations, you can buy e-sims and connect human beings during the worst period of their life. It might not mean much to you, but donating the money that gets a Palestinian family food for the day, that helps them be able to text their families overseas - small actions can and do mean the world. One day I went fuck it, and kicked up a huge fuss on twitter because Gofundme refused to transfer a Palestinian man his funds. And, because of that small action on my part, he's going to get his money, even if it's weeks late.
And, just. One more time for good measure. This strike is being called by Bisan, a Palestinian journalist in Gaza who could quite literally be killed at any second. I know you mean well, but genuinely - what alternative does she have at this moment? It's nearing the end of the fourth month of genocide in Gaza. Palestinians have spent almost one third of a year being ruthlessly murdered with practically zero effective international pushback. If they're holding onto hope that action like this can make a difference, I'm not going to be pedantic and miserly about it.
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inbabylontheywept · 3 months ago
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Weird Grandpa Story #2
I remember asking my mom once, if her dad had gotten ornerier as he'd gotten old. I'd heard about that happening, and it would've made sense for him. He was already the orneriest old cuss I'd ever met. Couldn't even imagine him being grumpier than he was.
Instead of answering the question directly, she told me about what it was like going to church with him as a kid. Their church was a small Mormon ward out in the sticks of Colorado, and he served as their Bishop - mostly by virtue of being the only one willing to do that much unpaid work. He was also the ward pianist. He actually liked playing piano, and he liked having an audience, so it was more or less understood that he was willing to be the bishop in exchange for being the pianist. 
Which could've been a good trade, but there were a few problems.
The first problem was that Grandpa Dale played every song at about triple speed. He was a deeply impatient person, and that extended to how he played music. The second problem was that he had a bad habit of cursing under his breath. That would've been a scandalous  enough habit for a Mormon bishop, but was made much worse (and also much funnier)  by him being pretty damn deaf. So what he thought of as "quiet" cursing under his breath was more of just a verse hoarse way of yelling. I only visited him for a week or two every summer, and I still learned most of my bad words from him. 
So every Sunday would start with a quiet prayer, and then Bishop Grandpa Dale would go to the piano, sit down, and play the nightcore version of Praise to the Man. He would occasionally play other hymns, but he really, really liked that one. This would continue until he hit a wrong note, which was basically inevitable because his music philosophy was that if he could play a song flawlessly, it was time to play it faster. So he'd play until he hit that wrong note, at which point he would scream-whisper SHIIIIIT and, because he did not actually read music so much as memorize it, the only way he'd be able to get his rhythm back was by going back to the start. 
If it was a good Sunday, he could get it in two tries. Some Sundays took as many as five. 
I learned two things about Grandpa Dale from this story. The first was that he could play piano. I'd never actually seen him do that before. Still haven't, come to think of it. Second was that the man that I visited once a year, who always seemed on the verge of exploding, who scared the absolute dickens out of me, was actually the chilled out version of the man my mom grew up with.
And it helped knowing that, actually. I'm actually a pretty anxious person, and my mom is, also, a pretty anxious person, and as a teenager we'd sometimes get in these doom loops where we'd wind each other up until our springs cracked. She'd be worried about me growing up to be happy, and I'd be worried about letting her down, and my worrying would make me unhappy, and my unhappiness would make her unhappy, and we'd just kind of dissolve into these anxieties like cotton candy in the sea and become totally unbearable to be around for a bit. Then my dad would sit us both down and very politely tell us that we were being crazy. He had this quote how being sad that someone else is sad that you're sad is the emotional equivalent of being a Klein flask and that at some point you have to just say I am allowed one (1) single layer of emotional recursion, at most, and ideally zero. 
And it was always kind of embarrassing and silly, but when I was tempted to be more upset with my mom about it, I could remember the piano story and go: Sheesh. She has more of a right to be anxious that I do. For me it's really just genetics, but she grew up with the Cactus-Killing Gopher-Smasher. A whole 18 years of that. I spent two weeks every summer with that guy, and I love him, but I always came home feeling like I'd survived something. She's a trooper.
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semisasseater · 11 days ago
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But I'm overwhelmed with jealousy
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Jealous! Se-mi x fem! reader
Summary: jealous gf se-mi headcannons!
Tw: jealous, possessive, aggression, intimation, killing/sabotaging players (didn’t get into detail), light hearted threats, se-mi is down BAD, se-mi wants readers attention, physical touch, humor + exaggeration (the kid part.) swearing and snarky remarks.. (kinda?) let me know if i missed anything!
authors note: can you see this is an enhypen reference? (the name of the fic and the pictures used..) dyk i actually name all my fics after my favorite artists (enhypen, illit, and ariana grande?!) also im gonna cry i miss my wife gabby but she’s doing SCHOOL. gonna sob
Not proofread!
Word count: 531
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Jealous! Se-mi x Reader Headcanons
• Se-mi isn’t the type to openly admit she’s jealous, but the moment she feels threatened, her entire demeanor changes. Her eyes darken, her body stiffens, and her jaw clenches ever so slightly.
• She has a sharp resting glare, so sometimes people don’t even realize she’s fuming with jealousy—until she makes a snarky remark under her breath.
• If she sees someone getting too comfortable around you, she’ll silently step closer, standing just a little too protectively beside you, as if she’s reminding them who you belong to.
When a Kid Compliments You:
• You two were just casually walking down the street when a little kid looked up at you and innocently said, “Wow! You’re really pretty!”
• Before you could even react, you felt the air change—Se-mi went completely silent.
• You turned to see her standing still, her eyes darkened, lips pressed into a thin line. Instant panic.
• “Oh nononono, Se-mi! You’re not gonna hurt the child—he just complimented me!” you blurted out, quickly stepping in front of her.
• She scoffed, shaking her head. “You think I’d actually fight a kid?”
• …You weren’t sure. Because the way she was looking at that child made you think she just might.
• The poor kid, oblivious to the tension, just giggled and ran off. Meanwhile, you spent the next five minutes calming Se-mi down, reassuring her that even toddlers weren’t competition for her.
When Another Player Flirts With You in the Game:
• Se-mi is not subtle when another player tries flirting with you.
• She immediately steps between you and them, fixing them with a cold, unreadable stare.
• “Keep your eyes on the game, not my girlfriend” she says flatly scaring the other player away.
• If they don’t get the message, she doesn’t mind “accidentally” knocking into them during red light green light or making their life slightly more difficult.
• One time, Player 230 “jokingly” said, “Damn, Y/N, if we make it out of here, you should go on a date with me instead.”
• Se-mi didn’t say a word—she just gave him a look that made him rethink and question what he said then he takes what he said back.
Random Moments of Jealousy:
• Eye Contact? Nope. If someone so much as stares at you too long, Se-mi will stare back—until they get so uncomfortable they look away first.
• Physical Touch? Absolutely Not. If someone puts a hand on your shoulder or leans in too close, she’ll immediately pull you toward her with zero hesitation.
• Possessive Gestures. She often rests her hand on your waist, gives you her jacket, or calls you “mine” loud enough for others to hear.
• When she’s feeling particularly territorial, she’ll kiss you in front of others—just to make it crystal clear who you belong to.
When You Reassure Her:
• Sometimes, her jealousy is unreasonable, and you know it.
• “Se-mi, do you really think I’d leave you for a random stranger?”
• She crosses her arms and looks away, muttering, “I don’t like people thinking they have a chance.”
• You can’t help but smile and grab her hand, pulling her close.
• “You’re the only one for me, dummy.”
• She doesn’t respond, but you see the corner of her lips twitch—and that’s how you know she’s secretly pleased.
Overall:
• Se-mi is undeniably protective and territorial, but she trusts you enough not to lash out unless absolutely necessary.
• She won’t always voice her jealousy, but she’ll make sure everyone knows you’re hers in one way or another.
• Despite her sharp and intimidating nature, she secretly just wants reassurance that you love her as much as she loves you.
• And honestly? You think it’s kinda cute—as long as she doesn’t actually try to start a fight with a child again.
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@semisasseater
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yourtypicalhuman09 · 24 days ago
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The types of MCs for my batfam fic
Awkward reader: im thinking a reader that is just extremely socially awkward, due to batfam’s neglect they never really got any close interaction so they dont know how to make close friends. They’re practically a ghost and watches from the sidelines. The fic would then be about reader finding their crowd of people and learning how to interact with people whilst still being and loving their awkward self.
Class clown reader: for this one im thinking a loud reader with zero filter and uses humor to cope with trauma. The reader is considerably popular but not respected. reader basically feels like a court jester made only to make people laugh because its already engraved in their mind that thats the only way people will like them and maybe one day the batfam would see them too. The fic would then be about reader learning that they dont have to be funny all the time, they can relax and people will still remember and care for them.
Soft reader: this reader is basically a doormat, theyve spent so long doing anything to gain batfam’s favor that they do it for other people too. Theyre soft spoken and very insecure and people constantly take advantage of them. Tbh they probably get bullied too but idk. The fic would then be about reader learning to stand up for themselves and only do things for the people they care about and block out any negative people from their life.
Hot headed reader: this reader definitely has anger issues. The world and the people in it have done nothing for them so why should they respect anyone. They trust no one and automatically thinks the worst of everyone. Theyre a loner and will be hostile towards anyone who disturbs that. The fic will then be about reader learning to trust people and open their heart. They still have the air of a delinquent but they’re fiercely loyal and will protect the people they care about with their life.
crybaby reader: reader is very sensitive and emotional, theyre ashamed of their emotions and mostly stay out if sight. They have little to no human interaction so they cry easy and they also probably get bullied or just ignored. The fic would be about them learning to come out of their shell a bit and learning how to process and not feel guilty about their emotions.
cold reader: this reader is definitely like a class president or something. They are always on guard and show little to no emotion. Theyre very analytical and always has a plan. They trust no one and carries an aura of superiority and nonchalance to make up for the reality that they see themselves as a no one because the batfam wont ever acknowledge them. The fic would then be about reader learning to let their guard down and have fun and be vulnerable with the people they trust like a child should instead of always having to be the calm collected one.
burnt out reader: reader is just depressed. They put so much on their plate to try to impress the batfam that their mental health is deteriorating. They cant seem to find any motivation to do anything and they constantly feel empty and tired. The fic would be about them finding themselves and what they like to do for themselves and not to impress the batfam. They learn how to balance their schedule and find meaning in life.
Authors note: this will be my last poll before i write the prologue and/or 1st chapter. Dont worry my readers you all will be fed soon. Have a good day/night🫶🫶🫶
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hannieehaee · 1 year ago
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them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - vu
content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, etc.
part 1
wc: 4512
a/n: lmk if u want a pu ver pls <3 if there's part i forgot to make gender neutral pls lmk!!
masterlist
jeonghan -
jeonghan had no idea what to do. he'd never been in this position before. he prided himself in being a good friend and specially boyfriend. nothing in this world mattered to him more than his loved ones, which was why he was extremely disappointed in himself at having disregarded you and hurt your feelings in such a careless way. he knew it was your birthday, and he had wanted so badly to be with you, but he had been an idiot and let it slip his mind. there was no other way to put it. it made him sad more than anything, to know that you had spent the night worried over him only to wake up to zero communication from him, having spent a good 14 hours into your birthday without any word from him. he needed to fix this, he just didnt know how.
this was so unlike him. jeonghan had always known himself to be an attentive person. he noticed any time you changed your hair almost immediately, he'd notice new additions to your recipes, he'd take note of any time you switched things up in your apartment, he'd remember any and every important date. even now. he had remembered it, except he had skipped over it due to his idiocy, which really only made it worse.
after getting mocked by joshua for ten minutes as he racked his brain to find a solution, he decided to just improvise. he'd go to your apartment and see if you'd at least let him in to try and explain his way through an apology. he would pull all the dramatics if he had to. there was not a single care for his dignity in his mind right now. nothing would prevent him from showing you his utmost remorse.
only thirty minutes later and he was now outside your apartment window, looking up from his secluded spot inside the complex's garden. he pondered about calling you, but decided that going for a more unconventional route might do the trick a bit better. spotting some pebbles nearby, he grabbed a few, beginning to chuck them at your window. okay, kind of corny, but knowing you, he knew you'd appreciate the thought. he spent an unfortunate ten minutes throwing pebble after pebble until you finally opened your window, sticking your head out as soon as you spotted him down below.
"jeonghan. what the hell are you doing?", you seemed and sounded pissed. but, hey! that was a good sign. at least you were acknowledging his presence.
"my love!', he clutched at his heart, 'let me come see you. please. i want to apologize."
"fuck you, yoon jeonghan. why dont you go treat your hangover somewhere else?", you went to close your window, only to stop in your tracks as he yelled out again.
"wait! do you want me to beg? i will. i love you. i dont care what i have to do. i'll climb to the roof and profess my love for you for all of seoul to hear," yes, he was being overly dramatic, but he was also being genuine. if you actually wanted him to scream out to the world how much he regretted his stupidity, he would. you didnt even have to ask.
but he also knew public displays were a huge no for you, dating an idol and knowing the controversies being known as the significant other of the yoon jeonghan would bring. he was putting you in a bit of a spot. you could either let him up to apologize, or wake up to some ominous article stating yoon jeonghan of seventeen might be taken.
fortunately for him, you chose the former, which now placed him in your living room as you crossed your arms and huffed at him. okay, one step at a time. it was time to put jokes aside and get serious.
"angel ... i'm so sorry," he cooed at you, stepping forward a bit.
"jeonghan, dont talk to me like im a baby. im not in the mood."
"but you are my baby," he pouted at you, "you're my angel, my everything. i'm sorry. i didnt show you how much you mean to me last night. all i want to do is love you and take care of you. you can punish me all you want. i deserve it. but please let me sleep in your arms. im already away from you most of the time. dont deprive me one more day," and he meant all he said. you were his favorite form of comfort, and the thought of you being angry or hurt by him made him scared. he never wanted to risk you being ripped away from his arms, specially not due to his own doing.
"jeonghan ..."
"no, wait. i'm sorry. i shouldve never forgotten. i dont know how it happened. all i ever want to do every day is come back home to you, but i did the opposite on the worst day possible. i'll apologize over and over until you forgive me if that's what it takes. please just let me be with you on your birthday. i dont want you alone. i dont want you sad. i want you happy and content in my arms. please? i love you."
he mustve broken you down, as you landed in his arms immediately after he finished his speech. he couldve sworn he saw you eyes puffy and swollen before he wrapped his arms around you. his suspicion was confirmed just seconds later when he heard you sniffle against him.
"aigooo, no angel. dont cry. didnt wanna make you cry. you're making me look like such a bad guy, baby, making you cry on your birthday," he cooed at you as he held you as tight as possible.
you separated yourself from him, finally looking into his eyes while he caressed your cheeks, wiping any lone tears in them, "im so sorry, angel. forgive me? let me stay, please."
"yes, hannie. i love you."
"i love you so much more," and he'd spend the rest of his life the day showing that to you.
joshua -
joshua had not been this hungover in a while. he wasnt sure how this happened. last thing he remembered was his manager rushing him into a car right after the award show, letting the group know they'd been invited to an after party, and the company had deemed it smart to be in attendance for public image purposes. all members agreed enthusiastically, excited to mingle among their peers and maybe make some new connections in the process. joshua had been the lone member to be skeptical, knowing he had promised he'd be back to the hotel at an appropriate time in order to get on the phone with you and celebrate what was remaining of your birthday with you despite the current distance between you. however, he did not want to get in the way of his members' fun, so he kept any objections to himself and joined them with matching enthusiasm.
his original plan was to roam the party for an hour or so, which wouldve allowed him to get back to call you on time, but ironically, time got away from him. the next thing he knew, he was waking up at 11am in the morning in mingyu's hotel room, head pounding and phone full of unread notifications. he wasnt sure how this happened. the last thing he remembered was being at the party, margarita in hand as he and his members drank their souls away in celebration of yet another successful award show season. it was around three margaritas in that joshua had begun to disregard his phone, and with that you as well. as soon as he saw the dejection in your messages upon waking up, he spammed you with texts and voice memos expressing his regret, but received no response from you. he had hurt you and now you were ignoring him. and with good reason.
joshua knew that there wasnt much he could do from his current location, specially while you were (justifiably) icing him out. so he committed to his next best option. he immediately booked a ticket back to korea, letting his manager know that he'd just be returning home two days in advance to the rest of the members. all they had scheduled left was an interview tomorrow, so his absence would probably not have that big of an effect. five grueling hours later and he arrived to korea, exhausted and still slightly hung over, but with a whole speech planned to beg for your forgiveness.
in the process, he had tried calling you again and again, still earning no response. this disheartened him, making him think that maybe his grand gesture would only be taken negatively. he picked up some flowers on the way, gift he had bought in japan a few days ago in hand, ready to knock on your apartment door. despite the exhaustion, he was here. a day late to celebrate your birthday, but still here nonetheless.
your face upon answering the door had been of surprise, not anger like he feared, but that only lasted for a few seconds until you started to berate him.
"joshua? what are you doing here?"
"baby, i'm so so sorry. can i come in? please?"
you moved aside without further words, gesturing for him to continue talking.
he suddenly remembered the flowers and boxed gift in hand, signaling to them before handing them to you, "oh, these are for you," he felt extremely inadequate, something that was very rare for him. he had practiced a whole speech, a whole profession of love and regret, but now his mind was blank. you just looked so. disappointed. he couldn't stand it.
'i'm sorry. i- i have no good excuse. the party got the best of me and i completely spaced out on our plans. i never meant to forget about you. please believe me.'
"joshua ... this was your idea. you had me waiting all night just to ghost me. you spent my birthday partying without even thinking of me."
he grabbed onto your hands, placing the flowers and gift on the table before doing so. he held onto you as he began to get exasperated in his speech, "there's no world in which i wasn't thinking of you. you're all thats ever on my mind. i didnt even wanna go to that stupid party, but i didnt want to inconvenience anyone. please, i- i wanted to call you. i ... yeah, i got drunk and distracted. and thats my fault. im sorry. i came back early to be with you. to make up for being a dumbass. please let me make it up to you. please? i'll serenade you like i promised. i'll get on my knees. do you want me to get on my-"
you interrupted him as he began to kneel halfway through his speech, slapping at him lightheartedly as he began to get more dramatic by the second. he knew it was hard for you to get angry at him when he started pulling all stops like he did. he came back and begged on his knees, even offered to express his love to you through song. he was making you hold in your laugh. these were all good signs, right?
"you .. you're such an idiot, hong jisoo. i hate you," but he knew you didnt mean it. he could hear and see the smile on your face, knowing he had been successful at wearing you down.
"if you ever do this again, ill date jeonghan instead."
"ouch!", he dramatically grabbed onto his chest, as if you'd just wounded his heart, causing you to laugh, "hannie? okay, can't blame you. he's pretty cute," he chuckled, "but for now ... let me spend the day with my love? hmm?", he pulled you closer, nuzzling his nose against yours as you feigned annoyance at him.
"fine," you rolled your eyes, "i'm still mad at you, though."
yeah, he had a lot of making up to do, but this was a start.
jihoon -
jihoon had not stopped beating himself up over his actions ever since you hung up the phone. he had spent the entirety of the day rethinking all his choices leading up to this. he had wanted to go running to you and apologize, but you had specifically asked him to stay away, so he wanted to respect your wishes. still, he felt like complete and utter shit at the way he disregarded you so easily. he wished he could go back in time and slap some sense into himself.
he had always been scared. scared that his job would someday get in the way of your relationship. it had been so hard for him to find someone to love; someone who loved him just as much. and the moment he found you he treasured you more than anything, but now his stupid workaholic tendencies had gotten in the way. he was terrified right now that you'd start to see the error in your choice to be with him. that you'd want to find someone who wouldnt so easily put his job over everything else.
it was now 11am of the following day, and you had not called him yet. he was beginning to get worried. were you icing him out? had he hurt you that badly? he could never blame you for feeling hurt at his neglect, but he could also not help his own feelings of dejection at you ignoring him due to your anger. alas, he still gave you all reason; this had been his own doing.
he waited a couple hours before giving up on waiting, instead choosing to confide in a few of his members to inquire as to what they'd do if they ever pulled something like this with their own significant others. after being scolded for a good few minutes due to his carelessness towards you, they told him that maybe showing up to your apartment as a demonstration of his affection to you (joined by a sincere apology, of course) would make you look his way again.
so now he was here, about to knock on your door with your favorite flowers in hand. he was terrified. the two of you had never fought. there had never been a single time in which you'd hurt each other's feelings. it had all been nothing but love and tenderness in your relationship thus far. he was your best friend, and you were his. yet he had no idea how to communicate to you how much you meant to him, and how much of a stupid mistake his slip up had been.
before he could think further, he forced himself to knock on your door, hoping you wouldnt immediately throw him out. to his surprise, you opened the door and even wordlessly gestured for him to enter. you looked ... sad. you looked the way he'd feel had you ghosted him on his own birthday. yeah, he didnt care much for his birthday, but your absence would wound him nonetheless. he imagined it felt the same for you.
"i ... i'm so sorry. i dont know what to say .. i- i fucked up. so badly. i have no idea how or why i forgot. there's nothing i can do to make up for it, but please know im so fucking sorry."
"jihoon ... how? you picked my birthday of all days to lock yourself in your studio? i've never judged your busy schedule. i understand your career. i respect it. i get that you cant help being busy. your job is too demanding of your time, but for you to ignore me when you had full control of your free time? why?", he could see how disappointed you felt at his neglect; how hurt you felt at him, not only through your words, but through your closed off body language. you were hugging yourself with your arms, not holding eye contact as you stared anywhere but into his eyes. despite your confident words, your demeanor was deflated. and it was his fault.
"it was- it was a mistake. it was all my fault. i cant argue my way around it. but i love you. i didnt .. i didnt mean to neglect you. you're all i think about. every song ive ever written, even before meeting you, was about you. you're everything. i'm just an idiot. i dont know how to do this ... ive never loved like this. i have no idea what to do when i fuck up. all i can do is promise you to be better. please give me a chance to be better. i'll be more attentive. i know i'm cold, and im not too affectionate, but i love you. i'll make it up to you. please, just dont let this be the end. i'll keep you in my studio with me whenever i lock myself away. won't ever go a day without letting you know what im doing, how im doing. please. i'll do anything to show you."
he worried his ramble mightve been too much, feeling to scared to even hold eye contact with you as he went on and on about how much he loved you. unexpectedly, upon looking up, he found your reddened eyes, with a stuffy nose to match. fuck. had he hurt your feelings again?
"jihoon ... i- i love you. i'm sorry. i cant believe you could ever think i wanted this to be the end. i was hurt and mad- i am hurt, but i love you," you sniffled your way through your short speech, but jihoon heard it perfectly fine. these were the words he prayed to hear from you all of last night as he stayed up thinking about you.
"fuck. thank god," he couldnt help himself in hugging you, holding you tightly against his arms, and sighing in relief at your reciprocation, "i love you. i'll take the week off. let me take you away and show you how much you mean to me. please? will you come with me?"
"yes, jihoon. i love you."
"i love you. you have no idea."
seokmin -
seokmin felt extremely scared. you weren't answering any of his calls. he knew you were physically okay, but he also knew your feelings were hurt, and you were probably extremely angry at him. you had all reason to be angry at him. he ditched you and kept you in the dark all day. on your birthday! seokmin had never been in a situation like this before. he had always prided himself in being the best boyfriend that one could ever be, even sometimes introducing himself as your boyfriend instead of with his own name. except today he had disappointed both you and himself beyond belief.
he knew you'd asked him to stay away for the night, and he'd usually respect your one and every wish, but today he needed to go against the current and go and beg for your forgiveness.
in very non-seokmin fashion, he exited the event just as quickly as he'd arrived, not even caring to say goodbye to his friends. you were his number one priority, after all. specially today of all days. he had his driver stop by a flower shop on the way, hoping the innocent gesture would maybe have you show some mercy on his stupidity.
he showed up to your apartment immediately after, having mentally prepared a whole speech for you on the way there. he was going to tell you how much he loved you, and how this was just a completely stupid slip of his mind, that this would never happen again, but all these thoughts left his mind as soon as you opened the door, eyes swollen and glossy. every rational thought went out the window upon spotting your saddened state causing seokmin's eyes to match your own as he felt himself begin to tear up. he couldnt help himself in immediately embracing you in a tight hug, thanking god when he felt you hold him back.
you two sniffled against each other for a bit, neither of you full on crying, but still being overly emotional at the situation. seokmin mumbled endless apologies against your hair, running his hands up and down your back as if to soothe you. he was over the moon to hear an 'i love you' from you in the middle of your sorrowful mumbles against his chest, doubling the sentiment as he cried to you how much he loved you and how badly he regretted letting you slip his mind for even a second. when he pulled back, he expressed the same sentiment all over again.
"my baby ... i love you so much. please let me make it up to you. i- i brought you flowers!", he finally recalled the flowers he had dropped as soon as you closed the door behind him ten minutes ago, "i know it doesnt make up for anything, but please let it be a start. i'll do anything you want. just want you to never cry over me like this again, baby. i love you too much to make you cry," he wiped at your tears as he said this, caressing your cheeks while he looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes.
"minnie," you pouted at him, "stay the night? please? want you at least for the bit that's left of today."
"today? oh, baby. i'm giving you my whole week. told you i was gonna make it up to you. i'll do everything you want, my love. now let me take you to bed, yeah? wanna hold my beautiful angel to sleep."
he slept soundly that night, knowing you had somehow forgiven him and even given him the privilege to hold you in his sleep, also knowing he'd do anything and everything necessary to make up for his stupid mistake.
seungkwan -
he had put literally everyone else above you. on your birthday. there was truly no other way to spin it. he had never felt more guilt in his life, and it was all completely on him. having even thought of going out with his friends on your birthday shouldve given him the first red flag in his stupid plan. why didnt he just bring you along? god, he was such an idiot. and then allowing mingyu and dongmin to entice him into a two hour long live broadcast just to secure some fanservice was just the nail in the coffin.
he knew he hurt you badly. he had promised you he'd be there, but had just left you in the dark all day. he couldnt blame you for not wanting to see him today, but now he was stuck tossing and turning in his bed as he itched to hold you in his arms. he had called the company immediately after your call, letting them know he'd be skipping the usual dance practice and recordings in favor of being with you, which is what he should've done all day today.
it wasnt long until he grew too restless to simply stay in bed while he knew you were probably in a similar position, except most likely sad and angry. he couldnt help himself when he decided to head to you, feeling bad at calling up his driver at such late hours of the night. the journey to your apartment was a short one, which left him with little time to think over what he'd say to you in order to convey his regret. he didnt care much for what he said, he just wanted to alleviate your hurt somehow.
just as he expected, you were awake, now standing in front of him as you opened the door to your apartment. your eyes were puffy, a huge indicator that you'd been crying. your eyes also wouldnt meet his, with your eyebrows lowered in clear sadness. seeing you and knowing your current state was his fault felt like a kick in the gut. he had never made you cry before, so he was extremely disappointed in himself. worst of all, seeing you cry made him start to tear up a bit himself.
"baby ..."
"what do you want, kwan? i thought you were busy all day," your words carried venom behind them, but your delivery was still of someone who had been hurt.
"no, baby. you know that's not true. i'm never too busy for you. i'm so sorry. i was such an idiot. there arent enough apologies i could give you. i- i never meant to hurt your feelings."
"you still did."
"i ... i know. i'm sorry. i love you. the last thing i ever want is for you to be hurt by me. i never shouldve gone out with my friends to begin with. you're too understanding of my busy schedule, and i dont deserve it. i shouldve made time all day for you today."
"was ... was it that important? being gone today specifically?", you seemed insecure in your question, which only made seungkwan's heart soar at making you feel insecure around him in any way.
"no! no, of course not. i wasnt thinking. i shouldve told them id go with them next time, or taken you with me! i was so stupid, i'm sorry. you're my priority. i need you to know that."
"it's- it's fine, kwannie. i understand. you dont see your friends that often, you-"
"no! stop. dont try to rationalize it. i made a mistake. you dont have to cover for me. i hurt you and i made you feel unimportant when you're the most important person to me. im so sorry. please never doubt that. i get you all to myself so little, and staying away from you was such a stupid mistake."
more tears had started flowing down your cheeks the further the conversation went on. he wasnt sure if it was because you were touched by his words, or because he was failing at making you feel better. as he neared you enough to wipe your tears with his thumbs, he hoped it was the former.
"baby .. don't cry over me. please. i'm just an idiot. you should never cry over me. i only ever want you to feel good things when thinking of me. i- im so sorry."
"kwannie ... i love you. i understand. i know you dont want me to understand, but i do. you have to make your choices when you're as busy as you are, and .. even though it did make me feel unimportant, i get it."
"it'll never happen again. i'll- i'll keep you by my side day and night. let me- please let me keep you to myself tomorrow. just wanna be with you. please?"
for the first time in the night, he saw you shoot him a small smile, uttering the words he wanted to hear most, "yes, kwannie. will you .. will you stay? please"
"you don't even have to ask."
a/n: thank u to everyone who enjoyed this lil series aaaa i hope it was realistic enough T-T sorry if the reconciliation seemed rushed, i just didnt want any of them to end up with an angsty ending hehe also sorry for seokmin's being shorter than anyone's i just cannot imagine that man ever hurting anyone's feelings.
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jeonjaemark · 2 months ago
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a christmas adventure || lee jihoon
content warning: sexual themes, MDNI, mentions of riding (m. receiving) || masterlist
jihoon’s pov
after looking through certain audios and arranging the different sound bytes, my eyes started to ache staring at the screen for the last three hours. i turn my chair away from my screen closing my eyes and rest my hand back against the rest behind me. exhaling and inhaling a few deep breaths my eyes snap open at the instrumental ringtone of iu’s love wins all. i immediately reach for my phone already feeling the pressure of my head getting lighter.
“hi lovey.” her cheery voice chimes through the other line.
“hi lovey. you’re awake still? what’s up?” i glance at my watch seeing it’s almost two in the morning.
“nothing much. i just wanted to check in on you. i miss you.”
“i miss you too. i am sorry i had to cancel our lunch date today.” i tell her, my voice going a bit higher out of guilt.
the last few weeks i haven’t spent much time back home with y/n. between the different schedules of being at the studio, photoshoots, video shoots and rehearsals i barely had any time to even kiss y/n on the head before i leave. when i wake up for work she is asleep and when i get back home from work she is asleep. when we call each other during break, it usually for at least thirty minutes before one of us has to end it because she has her work and i have mine. i don’t remember the last time i have seen her when she is awake in broad daylight outside of video calls. it’s almost like we are in a long distance relationship.
“it’s okay. i understand why it’s cancelled.” she reassures me. “but is there any way i could steal you from your work for maybe a couple or twenty minutes?”
“lovey, you know i would drop anything for you.”
“i am happy you said that. there is a little red box for you in your top right drawer.“
i put the phone of speaker and glide over to my desk in search of the red box. the moment i slide open my top drawer there it was. a small square red box with a bow on top. i picked up the box and set it on my desk.
“what did you do?” i questioned curiously.
“you’ll see. have fun.” she ends the call before i could ask any further questions.
i open up the box with a bunch of crumpled up colored tissue paper. i toss out the crumpled paper onto my desk until i reach a card with the words ‘read me’.
hiii lovey!! welcome to your christmas scavenger hunt. today you will be forced to leave your studio for a bit. under this note will be your first clue on what you will have to find and where to go. don’t worry, nothing is too far and it’s within walking distance. so dress warmly, drink some water (or cola) and have fun ;)
xx your favorite lovey
i chuckle at the note and search for the clue in the box. a barbie pink folded paper stood out among the colored tissue paper. i pick up the note and immediately knew where to go. i threw on my hoodie and headed down the elevator walking to a nearby convenience store.
the note had mention to go to the one place where we can find all our favorite midnight snacks. i scan down the different aisle picking out the different snacks y/n likes to eat. however i couldn’t find a note within any of the packaging. i look over the note again trying to figure out the clue when it me. it said “our” favorite snack at midnight.
i rush out of the current aisle i was in and head down to the drink section. usually y/n and i like to share a cola and a bag of salty chips. i search for the coke zero when i noticed a pink note attached to one of the colas. i reach for the note reading for the next place to go.
clue after clue, i finally arrive at the last place. the last clue had hinted for me to go to place where we lost track of time talking all night. i quietly enter the cafe as the worker nods greeting me.
the strong aroma of caffeine hits me like a tidal wave. there aren’t many cafes that are open this late but y/n and i happened to stumble upon during one of our dates. it was the one night that left a core memory for the both of us.
the clue was telling the truth about y/n and i losing track of time here. when we got caught up in the rain that night, we found shelter in this cafe for a few hours. we ended up talking all night together. i have never laughed or smiled so hard in my life that night. a warm tingling sensation seeps through my skin at the thought of our first kiss happening that same night.
“sir, here is your coffee.” the barista calls out to me quietly, handing me one hot mocha hazelnut latte and an iced americano
i thank him politely when i noticed a pink note underneath the hot drink. i carefully set the drinks down on the table and read the note.
you’ve finished your hunt. now it’s time to come back to the place that is your second home
i head back to my studio shaking off some of the leftover snow. when i close the door, fairy lights switch on. i didn’t have fairy lights before leaving my studio earlier. i whip my head around finding y/n sat on my chair in a grey wool coat that barely cover his knees with a pair of red heels. it seems a little dressed up for a studio visit. her hair was pinned half up and down. her skin glowing under the fairy lights.
——
y/n pov
“surprise!” i smiled as he enters his studio.
“lovey! you’re here!” he smirks.
“did you enjoy your scavenger hunt?”
“yeah but i am more happy to see my prize at the end.”
jihoon sets the bags of snacks he bought and coffee onto the table near him. he slides off his coat fixing his hair. i stood up from his swivel chair and walk to the middle of his studio.
“what are you doing here?” his voice filled with suspicion.
“well you’ve been coming home tired because of work. i thought i could give you a different reason to be tired.”
i unbutton open the coat as it slide down to my ankles. i adjust the silk straps and run my hand down sheer fabric of the babydoll dress. my fingers play around with the giant bow covering my breast. jihoon’s eyes scan up my body. his shoulders perk up along with the corners of his lips intrigued and interested by choice of outfit.
“i know it’s a bit early for you to open up your christmas gift from me, but i thought of something else you could open that can make us both happy.”
i slowly walk over to jihoon, my heels dragging lightly against the wood floor with each step. his eyes take me in, slowly and steadily watching every movement i take towards him. the smug grin on his face only boosts my confidence to keep going with my little game. i stood in between his spread legs looking down at him. i turn around sitting my ass against his perked up friend and start to grind against him. jihoon presses his hands to my waist and i lean forward moving back against him. a few deep groans leave his lips making me smile. my panties start to soak at the sounds leaving his mouth and the way his finger start to grip me to be closer to him.
“y/n, someone might walk in on us.” he mumbles into my ear. his voice filled with warning as i spin to face him.
“you’re at your studio at three in the morning, who’s gonna walk in on us? a ghost?” i questioned. i bring my lips closer to his ear, “plus isn’t the possibility of getting caught part of the thrill of having sex in your studio? i thought you would be fulfilling one of your fantasies.”
“you’re such a brat.” he hissed.
“and you love me anyways.” i nips at his earlobe. “now shut up and let me make you feel good.”
i kiss down his neck as my hips roll into his finding their own rhythm. a few mixes of moans and groans leave his lips as i continue to grind into him. his hands squeezing and guiding my waist on him. i lock my arms around his neck circling my hips into him. he pulls my lips away from marking up his chest and smashes his lips to mine kissing me with much eager and need. his hips thrust up meeting mine making me moan against his lips.
i reach down for the buckle of his pants but he presses his hand to mine stopping me. “y/n…” his voice dripping with hesitation over the thought of someone catching us in the act.
i guide my hand lower palming him earning another moan, “i promise i will be gentle at first.”
he release his hand from mine and allows me to unbuckle him. he helps me slide off his pants and boxer enough for me. i lick my lips at the sight of him as he guides me down onto him. my walls begin to stretch deliciously as he enters me to the tilt. my face scrunches up at the pain of him entering me. jihoon crashes his lips against mine again pulling my head away from leaning on his shoulder. his tongue tracing the seams of mine while we waited for me to adjust to his size again. he trails his lips down my neck, nipping at a certain part that had butterflies fluttering in my stomach. i squeeze his arm once i felt the pain subside and he presses his hands to my hips ready to guide and aide me. i press my hands to his shoulders as i grind my hips into his building up to bouncing up and down. his hips snap up into mine every time i went down.
——
jihoon slides on his boxers while he grabs the blanket i had brought to cover my body. i snuggle closer to his body taking in his scent. aside from the mind blowing orgasms i’ve had (i stopped breathing after the seventh one) for the past twenty minutes jihoon and i have been cuddling on the couch randomly jumping from one topic to the next. i can’t remember the last time i stayed up like this with him.
“if there is one member you didn’t want to walk in on us, which one would it be?”
“any of them. i would be mortified.” he laughs. “i would also be pissed too cause i don’t want anyone else to see you like this except me.”
“possessive much?” i teased.
“only when it comes to you.” he presses a kiss to my lips. this time it was slow and gently not rough and eager like earlier.
he pulls away pushing himself off the couch away from me. i arch an eyebrow at him as he walks over to his computer and soundboard.
“lovey, what are you doing?”
“i am feeling inspired right now.” he grins.
“lee jihoon, you are not about to make a song about our sex life.” i spat sternly.
“no one will know except you and me. i think it would be fun.”
“you’re so annoying. maybe i need to tire you out more.”
jihoon drops whatever he is doing and walks back to the pull out couch. i laugh as he laid up against the cushions next to me. he wraps his arms around my waist pulling me on top to straddle him.
“i believe you said i need to be more tired.”
“i did, but i think you gotta earn the ride first and it’s nice to know i can pull you away from your work when it comes to sex.”
“it not just sex, only you can pull me away from work even when you’re just calling me to update about your day or when you call to tell me you miss me.” he presses a kiss to my forehead. “i admit that i tend to be a workaholic and sometimes i feel like i am not a good boyfriend to you and —- .”
“shhh, don’t do that. don’t start belittling yourself because work has been taking your time. you have never neglected me once. you always tell me in advance if something has come up when we had plans and today was the first time in a while that you’ve cancelled on me. you are doing a lot better managing your work and personal life.”
“well that’s because i have you.” he kisses me. “you make it hard for me to be away from you long.”
while work has been chaotic for jihoon and i (more for him than me), he has never forgotten to send me my favorite latte at the start of my day or how he would leave little notes around the apartment for me to find. he texts and call me in between schedules. he would even stay on call with me even if i am one who is busy and he happened to catch a break between his crazy schedule. even when we are free we spend it in the apartment together watching his latest anime that he been obsessed with or watching one of my fave romance movies.
“i love you, lee jihoon. don’t ever forget that and don’t ever belittle yourself on your love for me.” i look into his eyes making sure he understood my words.
“i love you more. i promise no more belittling.” he chuckles kissing me. “so i really can’t make that song?”
i groan pressing my fingers to my temples, “i am really gonna have to tire you the fuck out tonight.”
“we better get to work.” he teases, pulling me in even closer, tracing kisses down to my chest making me moan.
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wwaheoh · 7 months ago
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Hey, Hi, Hello!! I don’t know if you’re not taking request or not but If it’s not too much of a hassle or if you have the free time, could I please request a part two of that unrequited love post where the reader starts intentionally avoiding those same characters you posted? Like basically the aftermath of the confession. If you’re closed or busy you really don’t have to accept this but thank you for that read 😭
“Aversion to Heartache…” Zenless Zone Zero x gnReader
Von Lycaon, Zhu Yuan
a/n: not including Anby, since she’s the one avoiding you at the end of Unrequited. also i am always open to requests or chats! just know that it might take some time to get back to you, since i write when i take a break or can’t draw
Sequel to: “Unrequited” (Lycaon, Zhu Yuan, Anby)
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It’s been a couple of weeks since your failed confession. You had been purposefully avoiding Lycaon- even Victoria Housekeeping as well as the cafe they used as a front. Ads would pop up on websites, various members on it but the pure white fur of the Therian on your mind sticking out like a sore thumb against the muted colors of the rest of the staff.
Sighing, you clicked on the X to delete the ad, not wanting to see it any longer. You misclicked, accidentally clicking on the web link and being rerouted to the contact page of Victoria Housekeeping. It was familiar- having used it to venture into the Hollow, where you met Lycaon.
Quickly closing the tab, you tried to clear your mind. Lycaon, Lycaon, Lycaon, every day it felt like you got reminded of him. The good times you both had, spending afternoons and sometimes nights with him. Then quickly being soured by you confessing to him- the look on his face more unflattering than what really occurred.
You should go out for a bit… maybe some fresh air would help. Standing up, you put on some casual clothes, fixing a hoodie on and zipping it up before taking your keys.
Closing the door behind you and locking it, you took a deep breath of the cold afternoon air. Fresh, with only a couple of people milling about. A car or two passing by every couple of minutes. Stepping out from the front of your apartment, you began your aimless walk. Letting the sounds of the city fill your ears.
After tens of minutes, you found yourself in Lumina Square. Somewhere bustling with traffic. Following the crowd, you looked through the windows, commenting on things mentally- before something caught your eye.
Lycaon. The wolf-Therian was sitting in front of a noodle shop with… someone else. A figure wearing a blue-orange jacket, hair reaching their chin. Here you were, constantly on the verge of tears and Lycaon had already moved on. Seemingly having replaced you, seeing as how expressive this person was to him.
His ear twitched, a tell-tale sign of where he was going to look- having either heard or smelled something of note. Quickly you lifted your hood up, hiding your face as you quickly followed the crowd, hoping to avoid his gaze and possible confrontation, forever if possible.
Yet he knew you were there. With the aroma and cooking of the noodle shop covering up most of your tracks, but that familiar scent you had snaked its way in. Yet you were already gone, faded back into the crowd.
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After the revelation of who Zhu Yuan’s heart had been captivated by, you had begun to slowly avoid Zhu Yuan. The heartache you felt as you spent time with her became more pervasive with each day. Something you wanted became poisoned, leading you to call hangouts off or declining Zhu Yuan whenever she invited you.
She very easily figured this out, but the question was ‘why?’. The two of you hadn’t had a falling out- nothing egregious and there was no reason for you to have any bad blood. Yet every time she approached you, you quickly tried to find an out- you weren’t as slick as you thought you were.
It became harder and harder for her to initiate anything, being stationed in different areas of New Eridu, as well as growing feelings for her partner Qingyi. Yet it still ate at her.
One day on patrol, you were responding to an urgent call, pulling up with lights flashing. A man had a girl hostage, blade to her neck as they ordered the cops to hand them a vehicle to make their escape from a robbery gone wrong.
Just as you were about to go in, a blur passed you, a familiar figure grabbed the girl, cuffing the suspect before roundhouse kicking them, knocking them and a piece of the wall out. As well as a couple of molars.
You watched her in a trance as she consoled the victim. Then you noticed that she was about to turn, with you quickly walking away back to your car. She stepped to follow you but was stopped, having to give a recount and file paperwork for the arrest, as well as return to film the rest of the promotional material for the director.
Qingyi watched you leave as she stepped out of the car, dots connecting in her head as she watched the hurt look on both you and Zhu Yuan’s face. She needed to do something about this...
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gangplanksorenji · 1 year ago
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Kinknuary Day 22: Spanking
Pairing: Kep1er Xiaoting x Male Reader
Word Count: 4,956
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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“Don’t you want to take me somewhere else more than this?”
“I actually just want to go home now, Xiaoting—I’m pretty tired…”
“Aw, come on—please? Just one more then we’ll go home…”
Of course, Xiaoting won’t end a day without a good note because she detests anything that’ll make her feel bored or even the simplest hint of discontentment and you won’t dare to disappoint her. Sometimes, life doesn’t go the desired path they want them to and that’s being sampled on her right now, and you won’t let her selfish wants be your burden in the long run.
“Aren’t you even feeling tired, Xiaoting?” Your tone laces a hint of discomfort as she seems to be much more invigorated than you even though you’ve mostly spent the whole day shopping and attending such an incredible party you’ve ever gone to. 
“Not really, but please—”
“Okay, okay…” You break her constant plea with a single proposition: a classic game of rock, paper and scissors and whoever wins, will mark both of your fates—it’s quite a simple game but unable to be rejected as Xiaoting agrees about that, and you smiled because of her sudden agreement.
“Just once, okay?”
“Alright…” Xiaoting sounds pretty defeated even though it hasn't started yet because the pessimistic side of hers says that she may end up losing and it will deeply make her disappointed and knowing how well she will think, you curl up a smirk as this is the moment of truth.
Counting down up to the lowest possible integer, you could feel the tension on Xiaoting’s eyes, laced with anticipation and the desire to win as she wanted herself to be fully-redeemed on peak-happiness but it’s like, you can clearly read her mind through that serious gaze of hers as you curl up a smirk after utter ‘zero’ and guess what, all became too ambitious for someone who desired something truly at its best.
It wasn’t really the best, for Xiaoting as you landed ‘rock’ front of her which made her gasp in defeat as it’s too late, with even half a second to spare and cheat, she panicked and managed to land a ‘scissor’ and with that little game, you knew who’s victorious and it’s goddamn you. 
“I hate this game! It’s unfair!!” Xiaoting whines and as expected, she rants out how rigged that game could be and how you “cheated” to get that desired prize as she frowns in front of you, her pouty yet disappointed expression still exuding such beauty that no one can come close.
“How is it unfair? You even switched it up at the last second and ended up losing? Just accept your defeat—”
“Ughh, fine! Fine, I will…” Xiaoting brushes off your further continuation of fighting how she’s on the wrong side as she doesn’t want to hear anything that would just make things worse—it’s like she’ll lose anything of our decision, probably a good night’s rest at her place, especially with you on her side. Knowing that investing onto another argument or another plea won’t make anything better since a deal is a deal and you’re just going to wait for time to tell the fate you have in store with and knowing how Xiaoting will take your upcoming proposition wholeheartedly, then it’ll be just only a matter of time before it all unveils onto that anticipated abyss of wonders and desires.
---
It never gets old between the both of you and the fact that you’ve been holding this for a while now is surprising, knowing how insatiable Xiaoting can be at an times you lay your eyes on her as her vixen-like aura and her seductive nature is enough to make you lure in to your deepest desires, and it’s being fulfilled with multiple, sloppy kisses on her lips. You chase your delightful moments in every kiss that you make up with her, as much as the lustful need in you every time you tangle your tongue on hers as you went deeper, and Xiaoting, pulling out as she’s running out of breath due to our audacious nature and aggressive actions towards her.
“Why would you pull out, babe? Am I too much for you to handle?”
“Not reall—ahh, ohh… right t-there…” Maybe you’re right or you could lean onto the opposite, knowing that the culprit would be the lack of oxygen would let those speculations set aside onto the correct verdict. You know how your lips are one of her ultimate weaknesses out of the many things you can elaborate as you let her know how your stupendous skills can make a girl like her fall under your spell within just mere seconds. You latch onto her deep, sharp collar bones that you always love worshiping, knowing how perfectly sculpted those are like the rest of her body, deemed to be drooled on a praised by only you—you could be just the luckiest menace of them all, being gifted with such an angel being close to the epitome of perfection, from head to toe. You keep peppering that porcelain skin of hers with multiple kisses, running your lips down to her neck as she moans almost-inaudibly and incredibly sultry, voicing out her deep satisfaction towards your expertise.
“Oh god—you k-kiss me so well—oh, so good!”
Hearing her constant compliments on your actions, you continue to pepper her with intimate kisses until you pull out right after, hearing her soft whimpers needing your lips to be attached onto her skin as soon as possible but you had enough, for now. 
“Isn’t my baby needy for me?” Your eyes demanded an answer escaping her lips right away, wanting her to unleash that living submissiveness inside her and you’ll do it slowly, knowing how the beast inside her will be a little challenging to tame. 
“Y-Yes…”
She’s succumbing onto that state slowly as her eyes glistening with need and her soft, needy tone is enough of an evidence, luring her into falling under your spell and will not make her escape out of it. With her needy pleas and her body grinding greedily against yours, wanting to feel your touch, you can’t seem to be convinced as there’s few elements that’s lacking from her constant pleas. “Yes what, baby?”
“Yes, please…” With Xiaoting’s constant pleas, you can’t help but just fulfill her needs right at this moment but you need to unlock that beast inside of you with the magical word that will turn her world upside-down. 
“You’re getting there, baby~” You tease her porcelain skin with a gentle swipe of your fingers, running it down her neck and then up to her toned midriff, which you always love kissing and worth worshiping until the end of time. Xiaoting knows that she needs to crack the code within you, and with a clever mind and taking a few seconds of the clock for her to think about what could make that happen, she finally thought of that forbidden word and it’s only a matter of time until~
“Yes I am, daddy.”
You never expected her to fail in any kind as she’s cognizant as the way she is and it’s always impressive to see and even hear it all with utmost sincerity and need. With your face still inches away from her, such eye contact would let the other succumb onto the endearing stare of the other yet you’ll change that, more likely, a commanding one as you live up with that, wanting Xiaoting to strip her clothing in front of you with class and skill like nobody can achieve. Maybe, you haven’t seen anyone become on par with her skills, let alone surpassing her and you’ll keep it that way—it’s way phenomenal seeing Xiaoting doing the things she’s great at and you won’t even bother thinking of another woman to do it for you. With her seductive gaze inviting you to strip her clothing with her, you wouldn’t skip that opportunity as you do so, slowly removing the fur-like sleeves on her arms but before you completely strip it off her, you take some time to commend her flawless figure and her outfit perfectly complimenting each impeccable feature she has.
“Thanks, d-daddy—really l-loved this one…”
“You know, as much as I want this on you, this would be better on the floor.”
Xiaoting’s lips curled up a sinister smirk as she invited you to make that “wish” of yours come true, and it wouldn’t take up much of your time until it became accomplished. She would aid herself for you to be comfortable, leaning onto you as she gives you such inviting and sultry moans, making yourself get riled up for her and you love it but you wouldn’t be fazed with that as you continue stripping her. Her hands wouldn’t be idle as she pulled her pants, down to her ankles and then onto the floor with a swift motion and god, those scrumptious, milky thighs on your sight is tempting to be voraciously kissed as hunger took over you yet you continue your work and with her top off, her slender, hourglass figure is now within your eyes to be blessed and you couldn’t ask for more because of it. 
Xiaoting is a work of art, sculpted by the gods to perfection as you’re the lucky man to handle and appreciate this masterpiece, maybe even use it until her legs give out—a sullied goddess, in your own books. 
“God, you’re fucking hot, Xiaoting—oh gosh…” You can’t believe your eyes as it takes numerous gazes throughout her perfect figure, eyeing every inch and drooling on it like it’s a five-course meal—maybe it may lie down onto the scope of similes but metaphorically, she’s always the main course and you would love to devour her like a predator hungry for its prey. With her last bits of defense still within her body, concealing her true beauty, you asked Xiaoting if you can strip it off her and without any hesitations, she nodded as she’s been longing for this for a while now.
“You really love my body so much, hm, daddy?” Xiaoting doesn’t even need to ask you about that because she already knows what your answer will be and it’s always readable, your eyes glistening with hunger over her is enough evidence. 
Still busy admiring her scrumptious body and her drooling all over it, it took you seconds before you could respond as you flash a smile at her, making her feel delighted and truly loved by you. “Of course, baby—I love it all but daddy’s getting impatient…”
Xiaoting runs her finger onto your clothed chest, up towards your shoulders as she rests her arms on it, and then utters such a seductive invitation letting you know how it’s going to start. “Have your way with me, daddy—I’d love what you’ll make me do…”
And as always, Xiaoting never laid a better invitation than that and she never fails to make you amazed and aroused. With all of that foreplay coming into its denouement, you commanded Xiaoting to get onto the bed as her naked body is now on display, ready to get used as she gets on all fours.
“This is going to be fun…”
--- 
“Count.”
“Y-Yes, daddy…”
It’s maybe a newly profound kink of him, and maybe even you, considering that as you're guilty as he probably likes how your thighs jiggle with his mighty palm striking onto your butt with the force of a truck, and you love it. He knows how you love it so much, your eyes won’t even deny letting him know about that and under his own control, you completely submit yourself and let him have his way with you.
“Don’t hold back, baby—let it all out and count, do you understand?”
You nod frantically, not wanting to disappoint him as you wiggle your ass in front of him, inviting him to do the honors of the actions he’s been longing to do—
*loud smack* “O-One…” 
It was just the first one and it’s already rocking your world, sending your arousal up to the sky as his smacks are pleasurable, making your sensitivity peak at its finest. You could feel yourself getting wet with the thought of his hands spanking your butt harshly until it’s red as a tomato while ramming your tight cunt down and you can’t wait for it to happen.
*another loud smack* “Two—oh god…”
Another one emanates around your ear as the crisp of its pristine sound sends your libido skyrocketing, probably filling the urge of him using you but you can sense and know how he won’t just pull the trigger this easily—the both you wanted this on the first place: you wanting this for a long time now and gains gratification from it and lastly, him wanting to tease you and there’s no better way to do that with his palm printed onto your milky buttcheeks, going to be redder than a tomato.
*another loud smack* “T-Three… That feels so g-good…”
It may feel redundant but you love every second of it and will not even feel the hint of being tired of it because of his harsh actions—you wanted the pain anyways, as he knows how you derive pleasure from his spanks and the discordant sounds of it increasing your libido onto the roof, and makes you even wetter by multiple barrages of it.
*another loud smack* “F-Four—f-fuck, daddy…”
This time, it was way harder than the rest as you whimper in pain again because of his harshness, but gaining that genuine gratification as you love the pain and the pleasure mixing all up together—you’re maybe a masochist because of how you derive intense pleasure, and you know he’s here to fulfill that at all costs. Even though you can’t catch a glimpse of the hot sight of him doing such sinful things to you, you can’t still brush the fact that your imagination reaches the furthest of its limits, capable of formulating the filthiest thoughts known to mankind.
*another loud, harsh smack* “Five—o-ohh… too g-good—ahh~”
You keep voicing your own satisfaction alongside your ragged breaths between random intervals that puts him onto authority to further smack you until your butt is scarlet red but you can sense that he has better options in mind, the feral beast inside him wanting to be unshackled from its restraints, and you’d be the guest to let it be a wish come true.
“Such a good girl for me, hm?”
You know he’s growing impatient, and you can sense it igniting in his eyes and you wouldn’t dare to let him wait for another move preceding what he could command you.
“Yes, daddy—” Your sultry voice invites him into falling down to his own, carnal desires and you know he wouldn’t make the both of you wait for nothing as every second should be treasured. “—now will you fuck your good girl?”
It’s up to him to write your fate, and you’ll just relax yourself and find out what it would be…
---
It does tempt you into fulfilling her needs and it’s just a single strand before you break your shackling confines, and it wouldn’t be long until you reach your primal desires. It wasn’t your cup of tea to tease into oblivion but if she wanted that then so be it as foreplay plays an impressive role on someone’s anticipation and her desires running like a roller coaster, all opting for the chase of fun and the freakiest frustrations of not being attended.
“Put it in, daddy—please, ohh!”
Of course, another tease makes her weak, whimpering in need as she tightly grabs the bed sheets for a leverage to fight the profound pleasure that she's not experiencing. You continue swiping your finger onto her heated core as she cries in response, and it further skyrockets once you start stimulating her clit and with her small sounds being the fuel on your unstoppable lust, you won’t let her wait for more as you gave what she truly deserves.
With your hands caressing the soft, silky skin of hers, you grab her hips and position yourself into a state of bliss and within a single second, it all went uphill as you could just hear each other’s groans emanating the wonders of such a great commencement of sex. You deliver shallow and leisure thrusts, aiming to just make her anticipate and savor every second of that blithe that she always loved. You continue peppering her neck with constant pecks as you muster such a sluggish pace, making her feel loved as you worship her and make her know how much you adore her.
“You l-love kissing me, daddy?”
You smile at her question, and you know that she already has the knowledge about that question, but you would love to let her know about everything you love about her, more likely, verbally. “Of course, baby—how could I not adore every inch of your perfect body?”
Well, she’s not egoistic but she knows how perfect she is in your eyes and that’s something that always wanted to hear, as it boosts her confidence in a great percentage and makes her feel the utmost care by you. Maybe the slow and redundant foreplay was getting on your nerves longer than you expected as you wanted to ruin her and Xiaoting herself would love the thought of that.
Maybe it won’t rely onto the cloud of thoughts as it’s now ascending into reality, pacing faster into a moderate speed where she constantly whimpered in need, your constantly ramming cock into her tightness becoming too much for her and of course she would request for an element to be added for the better experience for both parties.
“Spank my ass while you f-fuck me, daddy—oh god!”
Now averting your hands onto different places: your left hand swiftly fondling her perky breasts for better stimulation and your other hand already finding its way onto smacking that soft flesh in front of you, the rippling of it and the sound it reverberates around the room makes such an arousing sight that it further thrust you into her rapidly as she recoils a little from your harshness.
Who would have thought that a modest, sophisticated girl like her is invested in such a sinful, cruel act? Well, it wasn’t emanating from her aura totally but you know how she subconsciously knows how hot and captivating of a woman she is—you’re glad that she’s yours and you’re the only one to have a sight of her alluring masterclass. Maybe it’s a faux conception knowing that Xiaoting doesn’t exude such hotness if she’s always being a little “puffball”, as you call her, but her other side is nothing compared to this and god, the next thing you’ll know is that you’ll be just riled up for her that the both of you will succumb to each other’s needs and be the freakiest creatures known to mankind.
If it wasn’t always the case about the latter, then you don’t know what is because the both of you prove your points about that title.
Harsh spanks add up to the sea of cacophonous sounds that lingers around your ear, further fueling you to bring such hard poundings in aims to totally let her succumb to submission, and you’re nearing that goal with all of the stimulation you’re doing on her. Every whimper she exclaims with the pain you’re bestowing her just makes the sight rapidly hotter but you know it wasn’t enough until her cheeks are scarlet red so you muster a new pattern of thrusting between spanks and using the other hand as a leverage by grabbing her hips harshly. The constant rhythm of your hips gradually increases over time, and so is your harsh treatment towards her but you want to add an incredible twist that will elevate the experience even more.
Xiaoting lets out series of cries as you pound her into the mattress, her arms able to give out with how much you’re treating her and then suddenly, you slow down immediately, catching her off-guard and for her to recovering a little as you’re selfless—you wanted her to savor every moment whenever possible and not want her to reach her high too quickly even though you know how your cock can make her do that in a few minutes. With your sudden impeding, you could take a closer attention to admiring her scrumptious backside and the sexiest curves of her hourglass figure that you can drool on for days and won’t get tired of. This is also an exceptional time to let your hands be berserk and give her harsh barrages of spanks that makes her even wetter and even more whimpers that lets your cock twitch because of how soft and arousing her tone is.
“P-Please fuck me h-harder, daddy–oh gosh, s-so good!!”
Another resonating smack lingering around  her ears as you’re a little infuriated with her pleas, making her writhe a little and cry in need of a better pace. “Don’t tell me what to do, baby…”
Her tightness is nearly suffocating but you don't care, not when a hot sight is just right in front of you as you resume on your frantic pace, making her moan uncontrollably to the point that she almost screams and it’s deafening but angelic. With all of the constant stimulation of your hands throughout her body and the pain you’re bringing in with such onslaught of smacks, it wouldn’t be surprisingly to know if Xiaoting is going to reaching her high sooner than you expected as the constant constricting of her pussy and the juices seeping out of it are enough evidences to set herself near to the promised land. Now with her buttcheeks red with your hand printed on it, you gave her a small break and continue to double your efforts on pounding her tight cunt, letting her know how she’s going to be having the paramount orgasm of her whole life and with a shuddering response escaping her lips, you knew it’s deemed to come into an end.
“Shit—daddy, I’m gonna c-cum so soon!!”
She wanted this for so long and you wouldn’t dare to put it in a halt and gave the reward that Xiaoting absolutely deserves. “Then cum, baby—cum all over my cock—”
It all went onto that singular point of bliss, releasing deafening screams of pleasure as she lets everything out around your ravaging length and with Xiaoting aiming to further elevate her orgasmic trance, she requested you still fuck her senseless on her orgasm as you do so, making her a wild, mindless mess just capable of uttering such sinful sounds. With your ruthless pace, Xiaoting kept whimpering on how she wants you to treat her harsher as you fulfill her wants, further hammering her tightness with such thrusts mustered to the highest velocity possible and with spanks with a force of a truck. After such breathtaking thrusts and a breakneck pace, you instantly calmed down the feral beast inside of you and gave her a leverage to recover, thrusting with such a sluggish pace as she catches her breath due to her orgasmic high.
“Daddy, t-that was—”
“Good? Yes, baby, I know—” You lean down to kiss her beautiful neck, and then course your way near her ear and continue her sentence. With your lips still worshiping the porcelain skin of hers, you let her know how great the experience was and showered her with compliments that definitely stroked her ego. “—because honestly, you felt great around my cock, baby…”
Xiaoting lets out needy whimpers—maybe even possibly smiling because of your compliments—as you stroke her hair to make her feel your touch, your hips now ensuing a moderate pace, pumping into her but this time, it’s all full of affection and love and dismissing the harshness and greed like from earlier. Knowing yourself would be near your own high too, you wanted to save the best for the last as you warn Xiaoting that you’re going to pull out and let herself switch into a different position.
“Baby, turn around for me so I can fuck you while seeing your beautiful face.”
It was straightforward and she obliges immediately without any questions and even with the hint of frustration laced on her emotions, it wouldn’t be long until you reward her with something exceptional as now is the time for another side of bliss. As she spun her figure around gracefully, her hands grabbed your shoulders as you immediately didn’t waste any time teasing her and plunged your length deep inside her and god, she’s still as tight as earlier and you wouldn’t complain about that because that’s what makes every second worth cherishing. 
Your hands then coursed down on her waist, caressing it as your touch makes her writhe a little and it didn’t bother you, continuing onto your desired precedence to reach your ultimate high. You pump your hips in her with aims to make her feel the utmost pleasure and how much you love her and with Xiaoting’s cleverness and the heat rising up onto its maximum scope, her hands didn’t become idle and pulled your head towards her, initiating into a heated kiss. It was full of hunger and lust as the both of you kept on chasing the higher authority, battling for the dominant control over the other person as drool inevitably seeped out of your mouths with your tongues dancing around gracefully. The kiss eventually gets sloppier and more heated and so are your ramming thrusts, pistoning onto a velocity unable for anyone to comprehend and it wouldn’t take long before you achieve your long-anticipated high with that familiar tingle in your loins.
Wanting to savor the last moments before your peak, you initiated a new rhythm as you gave up on a ridiculous pace in exchange for more powerful thrusts, as every time you do it, her thighs jiggle like jelly and that’s why you love such slow-paced thrusts that aims to strike harder—maybe the accumulation of such force on hammering her tight cunt is wonderful and it wouldn’t be long until you achieve something that you’ve been longing for.
“Aren’t y-you close, daddy?”
You chase your breath as you became too focused on peppering her neck with kisses and fucking her into oblivion that it took your seconds before you responded back, “I’m pretty close, baby—”, and instantly you kissed her lips again as you looked at her endearingly, full of fervor as you muttered such saccharine-filled words, “—I love you so much…”
That made Xiaoting realize how sincere everything was and she always knew it, but she never felt this much adrenaline and affection as she can’t help but smile sincerely as you continue hammering her and chasing that peak of yours. “I love you too, daddy—more than anything in this world.”
You pulled Xiaoting into another heated kiss as you buried your entire length in this, filling her up to the hilt as she let out muffled moans onto your lips but didn’t let herself faze on her grand prize, continuing on deepening the torrid kiss. You fill her up as you grab her waist tightly, almost forming into an embrace in order for a better leverage on dumping everything inside her. You groan between your heated kisses with Xiaoting as everything is just now in a complete state of bliss, every spurt worth treasuring as the constriction of her walls makes the pleasure worth your while and maybe even extending your orgasm. When you feel that everything has been toned down, you then palm her shoulders and pulled out slowly, Xiaoting catching her breath because of such a heated kiss initiated by you and god, what an incredible it is to see her pussy full of your cum, and some of it dripping and onto the sheets they stain—you suppose you would need a new mattress considering how much she spurted ner nectar all over the place and maybe, that would be the case.
“Ohh, it’s s-so much, daddy…” Xiaoting moans in satisfaction as she can feel the warmness of your seed that fills every inch of her velvety walls, and some are even seeping out of her lips. She took this as an opportunity to scoop out a sample and tasted it and as expected, she was delighted to let her taste buds orchestrate the final verdict of its delectability. “It’s salty and sweet—I love it, daddy…”
You smile because of her satisfaction being voiced out verbally, and with that, it makes you feel that everything was worth both your whiles and there’s nothing you could ask for more when it’s already been fulfilled.
“You felt so good, baby and—��� You caressed Xiaoting’s cheeks and looked at her endearingly again, feeling affectionate and thankful with the greatness she's bestowed you and being such a good girl for you. “—glad you loved me filling you up.”
“I love your harshness too, daddy—everything is just perfect…” It’s a little surprising that she can still articulate words that she shouldn’t but she got stamina for days so her recovery would be pretty quick. You know the night’s getting older but you know there’s more ways to enjoy everything you could think of but for now, a good night’s rest would not be bad as you can feel your drowsiness slowly taking over you until—
*notification pops up*
Yujin’s gonna see you tomorrow and you’re fucked up…
Well, was this all a mistake? You’d consider this as one but maybe this won’t be and all you can do is to prepare onto something that’s the last thing you want to deal with—her.
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teatroll · 1 year ago
Text
+18 NSFW content ahead; MDNI
NANAMI KENTO SPICY HEADCANONS
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Includes: fem!reader; inappropriate usage of showers and inaccurate depiction of shower shreks (water ain't lube, hons); unprotected piv; praising; + a bit more add-ons (headcanons, duh)
Note: should've been less detailed but i messed up halfway and it looks like a fic if you squint (oops?). anywho, thank my bestie, she buzzed off my ears 'bout this man and made this happen. (also not betaread) @cafekitsune and @saradika - banners ♡
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♡ Nanami Kento is a busy man. So his world precisely revolves around his job as a sorcerer. So does his free time. Whenever he gets home, he's too exhausted to indulge into anything but sleep.
♡ Although, he's not opposed to taking a hot steamy shower or a relaxing bath with you. It's only logical - practical AND pleasant. Two birds, one stone. Quick and easy quality time.
♡ That's what he hoped for before he found his mind wandering places when your hands started massaging shampoo into his scalp.
♡ Steam fogging up the glass shower doors; hot streams washing off soapy foam down your naked form; your glistening eyes searching for his and that tender smile that he cherishes so much...
♡ Yeah, his mind was in the gutter straight away and refused to crawl out from that pit. And he knows that's on him, because it's been way too long since the last time both of you spent some actual quality time together. Better fix this now than never, right?
♡ His touches are slow and gentle as his hands start to roam free, fingertips caressing your skin with utmost care. Nanami's heart flutters as you softly sigh close to his ear.
♡ That gives him the confidence to take it up a notch and glide his hands down to cup your rear; your sweet mewls shortly turning into whimpers as you crook your head to the side, giving him access to leave teasing nibbles on your neck.
♡ It's not long before you feel his hardened length between your thighs as he deliberately rocks his hips into yours.
♡ The sound you made afterwards made him softly hiss through gritted teeth.
♡ Normally he'd choose a different (read as more secure, because he's intolerant to bullshit) place, but with the way you cling to him now, he decides to indulge into such a messy activity as shower sex. After all, he's got places to be tomorrow, so he needs to wake up early. Two birds, one stone yet again.
(This man is practical and rational from the top of his head down to his toenails, what did you expect?)
♡ You gasp when his cock starts to slide back and forth between your thighs, teasing your clit. Your pussy clenches over nothing as you let out a needy whine into his shoulder.
♡ "Shh, baby. It's okay." His voice is a bit raspy as he coos in your ear, caressing your sides. "Let me take care of you."
♡ Another gasp escapes from you as he scoops you into his arms and lifts you up by your hips. Your legs instinctively wrapping around him, so do your arms to support your weight on him.
(But, frankly, that much is not needed. Nanami can lift you up with a single hand and still be able to sip his morning coffee with a straight face.)
♡ With his tip now pushing past your entrance, he lets out a shaky breath; his eyes flutter shut for a brief moment. The sight is divine, least to say; and you'd gladly enjoy it all day long but the way his cock slowly stretches your velvety walls makes your vision blurry.
♡ You squirm and pant into the crook of his neck as his grip on you tightens ever so slightly while he slides all the way in.
♡ There's a pause as he lets you adjust to the feeling, whispering so sweetly in your ear it almost melts your brain into mush.
♡ That man will be giving you a praise kink of the century, there's ZERO debate here. And a simple "good girl" won't cut it either.
♡ He'll shower you in praises for how well you're taking him, for how delightful your moans are, for how cute the blush spreads across your cheeks and neck. Basically, anything his senses pick up on, he'll put on a pedestal.
♡ His thrusts are slow, deep, and so fucking sensual it almost feels like a torture. Of pleasure, obviously. Doesn't dismiss the fact you crave more and make it know as you pull him into the kiss by the back of his neck.
♡ He catches your moans with his lips, savors them like candy. It heats up every nerve in his body, makes his muscles tense as he picks up the pace.
♡ How can he not provide his sweet girl with what she truly wants? Denying you of anything feels so wrong that he can't help but indulge into it all over again.
(Is it a flock of birds, one giant rock now? Probably is.)
♡ He's definitely panting. Maybe even whimpers a bit, but the sound is muffled by your lips on his and hushed by the shower, so you can't really be sure.
♡ What you can be sure of, though, is that familiar knot forming in your core. And that feeling gradually increases with each grind of his. There's quite a bit more force to it now, so that previous tenderness is replaced by pure passion.
♡ There's no escaping a headcanon of Nanami guiding you through your orgasm. Because he definitely does so.
♡ "That's it, just a little more. You can do this, baby." AND "You're so precious. Let me hear those pretty sounds, come on."
♡ SPEAKING OF WHICH, definitely tries to maintain eye contact as you finish.
♡ He wants to feel as your walls clench around him, wants to hear you gasp a choked moan, he craves to watch you crumble on his cock.
♡ That sets him off more than anything as he follows you shortly after, spilling inside you with an ecstatic grunt.
♡ Normally, he'd pull out for sure. But since you're already in the shower, why not to indulge into yet another shower session? But this time, it's your turn to be on the receiving end.
♡ After a short cock warming session as you both try to catch your breath.
(And who knows, maybe this time he'll be able to contain himself and actually just do a simple mundane activity and not waste water for half an hour.)
(Fingers crossed, but the bill will be enormous either way.)
♡ Nanami would definitely kiss your jaw/line of pulse lazily and nibble on your neck.
♡ Praising is obviously a part of aftercare as well, how can he set that aside??
♡ Would leave a gentle peck on the sweet spot just below your ear.
"Now, now, darling. Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?"
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♡ EXTRA ♡
♡ Missionary is his "to go to", because that way he can witness every little change in your expression.
♡ He's leaning closer to vanilla tbh.
♡ BUT, if he's frustrated, there will be a quickie on his desk.
♡ Dead ass will ruin you. Your hips will be sore for a week.
(Everything will be sore since we're at it.)
♡ Not to mention there WILL be hair pulling. (I see you, horny people. I know what you want.)
♡ Aftercare now involves him doing everything in his power to soothe you.
♡ Will definitely think you're sobbing because he hurt you, when, on the contrary, that was pure bliss.
♡ Remind that man of it, he tends to forget that vanilla isn't the only thing that exists.
♡ High chance he adores watching you please yourself. Both with fingers and toys.
♡ Hey, he knows you'd rather feel full on his cock, but he's not opposed to teasing.
♡ He might be pure vanilla (hello cookie run lmao), but even so, Nanami can add some spice to your shared love life once in a while.
♡ Especially when it involves giving you the best of times. (Yes, with teasing too.)
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♡ SUKUNA RYOMEN ♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO ♡
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httpiastri · 1 year ago
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snowy mountains & hot baths – op81
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you, oscar, and an empty spa can only lead to one thing.
genre: very short smut 😶
pairing: oscar piastri x female reader
warnings: uhhh public sex.... unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it yall!!
author's note: happy valentines day :) wish i had oscar here to celebrate with me... anyway. idk about this one guys 🫠🫠 started out alright but then i hated half of it so i deleted it and rewrote it but it just got worse. and i know that if i don't just post it rn, i will likely procrastinate and never end up posting it at all. yay. hope u enjoy anyway! i also have another oscar fic done that's at least a bit better than this lol.
f1 masterlist
18+ content below, minors do not interact!
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a low groan leaves oscar's lips when he dips his feet in the warm water. he instantly turns around, eyes finding you standing by the door you've just walked through to get to this outdoor area of the spa. he holds his hand out towards you, beckoning for you to step closer.
"it feels so good," he promises, gaze following your every move as you let your robe slide down your arms. his eyes widen when you reveal your newly bought bikini – papaya orange, of course – and a shudder passes through his body at the sight of the tiny material trying it's best to cover you up.
he thanks all the gods he can think of that there's no one else around.
goosebumps grow across your skin now that you're exposed to the sub-zero temperatures, toes curling in the short layer of snow on the deck. you stroll over to him, making sure to let your hips sway a little extra with every step because you know he's watching and you know what he's thinking. the sight of him gulping as his eyes wander up and down your body can only mean one thing.
taking his hand in yours, you let him pull you into the water with him, letting out a content sound when the water envelops your legs and brings the temperature of your body up again. oscar gives your hand a squeeze and leans back, his back hitting the water as he submerged into it. you dive in right after him, making a few strokes beneath the surface before coming up for air again. your hands come up to wipe away the water from your face, before brushing over your hair and tying it up in a messy bun on top of your head.
"this is just what i needed," your boyfriend says, drawing out an agreeing hum from you. it's been a long day – a long week, really – filled to the brim with skiing, hot chocolate drinking, skiing, cable car-rides, and then more skiing. oscar doesn't usually get a lot of time off work, and when he does, he wants to make the most of it. and as his partner, he thinks you should be doing the same, and that's why he's woken you up in the early hours every morning this last week, practically bouncing from how much he aches to go out in the swiss alps yet again.
the hot tub is big enough to swim around in, but oscar makes his way to the side and sits down on the built-in seat, arms stretching out and resting on the edge of the pool. you swim over to him, easily slipping onto his lap and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. oscar tenses up when you sit on him, and you're not surprised by the length already poking up at you – he's just a man, after all – but you decide not to do anything to acknowledge it just yet.
"it's really beautiful here, don't you think?" you ask, looking to your side. the sun has only just set, so the little village isn't completely dark yet. the moon above your heads casts a soft hue over the mountains you've spent all week conquering, stars twinkling among the tops.
"not as beautiful as you, though." there's barely any lightning out here other than the little candles scattered across the floor, but you see the fire in oscar's gaze clearly when you look back at him. he's staring at you like you're the most perfect work of art, the most beautiful thing to ever exist – and your expression matches his, because he truly is your favorite thing to look at in the world. your heart flutters at the contrast between how cute he looks with a few locks of his long fringe curling along his forehead, and how incredibly sexy his body looks with the little droplets of water decorating his muscular chest. he's just stunning.
"you really did a great job with planning and booking all of this, you know," you start. "i may have complained quite a bit when you dragged me out of bed at six am, but... it's all been perfect."
your hands find the space just below his jaw, and it takes all of your strength not to blatantly stare at his thick neck when you feel the muscles under your touch.
"well, perfect except for the fact that my legs are so sore right now."
oscar chuckles at this confession, hands leaving the edge of the pool and dipping into the water instead. "let me help you out with that, then..."
a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his palms meet your bare thighs, fingers pressing into the skin and stroking you softly. your eyes flutter closed, loving every second of his massage and growing hotter when his hands make their way further and further up. it doesn't take long before oscar can't hold back anymore, reaching up to press his lips against yours.
you sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself further towards him, your crotch brushing against his as a result. the moan he lets out is so hot that you instinctively begin grinding down against him, wanting to hear more.
oscar gets the hint, but finds himself reaching for your shoulders, holding you back as he leans out of the kiss. your lips chase after him, a frown taking over your face when he doesn't give in. you open your eyes to look at him.
"are you sure... that you want to..." oscar's voice is low but genuine; he knows you aren't a fan of exhibitionism, and that these situations usually only make you uncomfortable.
but the look in your eyes is impossible to misinterpret. "there's no one around..."
he looks around the area once more just to make sure. choosing to go to the spa at 8pm, the exact time when the restaurant at the hotel was the most crowded, was oscar's best idea yet.
he doesn't say anything else. he just grabs the back of your neck, pushing you down to his lips yet again. it's more rushed now, messy kisses pressed against your lips and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip hastily. his other hand caresses all the way down your back, gives your butt a quick squeeze, and then moves to your front instead. his fingers trace the edge of your bikini before dipping inside of it, finding your clit with ease.
your upper body is completely leaning onto him by now, little sounds slipping past your lips as he starts drawing circles onto your already sensitive bud. in no time, he's slipped past your clit, one finger sliding into your core and pumping you a couple of times before being joined by another finger. you can't help but clench around him, exhaling into the kiss.
"please, oscar..." you whine against his lips, and oscar nods, pulling out of you and breaking the kiss. he holds your hips away a little to make space for his hand undoing the knot that holds up his swim trunks, before pulling his dick out of them. he lifts you up, fingers pushing your bikini bottoms to the side but pausing when his tip meets your core. he waits for your nod of consent before finally entering you.
the water helps him glide into you, a throaty moan rumbling from his throat when he bottoms you out. he doesn't give you even a second to adjust, hands on your hips pulling you up before sinking you onto him again.
"fuck," he lets out, throwing his head back when you start to roll your hips against his. "you feel so good..."
you lean forward, forehead resting on the bend of his neck as you bounce up and down on him. your hands move to the back of his head, fingers getting lost in his locks, and it doesn't take long before your movements get sloppier. you gasp when oscar begins thrusting up into you, meeting your downward movements in a steady rhythm.
his grip on your hips grows firmer, rough fingers pressing into your skin and surely leaving marks for tomorrow. he's getting closer, too – you can tell by the string of moans he's letting out in between a bunch of swearwords – and you use your last bit of energy to pick up your pace and help him out. your walls contract around him when you come, and you feel him reach his own high not long after, twitching and shooting into you as you ride out your orgasms.
his hands are more gentle now, brushing up and down your back and following the bumps of your spine. when you finally gain the energy to speak, your words vibrate against his skin. "well, we're never coming back to this spa again." you lean back slightly, looking up at him for the first time in a while. "or the town, for that matter."
his blissed-out eyes meet yours, soft and glossy as he raises his eyebrows. "why's that?"
his flushed cheeks make him look so innocent, but his heaving chest tells another story. "did you not see the cameras?" you question.
"oh, you think we're the first ones to do this here?" you gasp at his wording, splashing some water his way. he laughs. "what, do you really? i reckon this happens here at least once every day. maybe even more."
"oscar!"
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bloodstainedveil · 2 months ago
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CAL GABRIEL. HEADCANONS || ZERO DAY
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cal gabriel as a boyfriend // a lil angst? // tw sh mention // gn!reader // headcanons
cal gabriel, who knows how to make himself likable. he’d be sweet, funny, maybe even a bit awkward and shy at times, but only to the extent that it benefits him. he’s not emotionally invested in the same way most people are—he’s more interested in the idea of having someone who adores him… and that “someone” happens to be you.
cal gabriel, who would share enough personal details to seem open, but he’d avoid anything too deep. if you tried to dig into his thoughts or true feelings, he’d quickly brush them off with a self-deprecating joke or change the subject.
cal gabriel, who, no matter how much he likes you, andre will always come first. he’d cancel dates or disappear without much of an explanation if andre needs him. he won’t apologise either—it’s just how it is.
cal gabriel, who would swing between affectionate and distant. one day, he’d be laying his head in your lap, even allowing you to ruffle his hair; the next, he’d barely respond to your texts or act distracted.
cal gabriel, who wouldn’t view your relationship as something permanent. he’s too focused on zero day and doesn’t plan to be around long enough to see where the relationship could possibly go.
cal gabriel, whose younger siblings simply adore you. maddie and eric see you as an honorary family member and get super hyped every time you come over.
cal gabriel, who uses play-wrestling as an excuse to get close to you, pinning you down and laughing at your attempts to fight back.
cal gabriel, who tries to show off by playing sitar for you, fingers moving effortlessly over the strings as he plays a riff that’s surprisingly good.
cal gabriel, who teaches you a few basic chords, leaning in close to adjust your fingers on the strings.
cal gabriel, who rolls his eyes when you straighten his coat collar or tuck his hair behind his ear, pretending to be annoyed while secretly enjoying the attention.
cal gabriel, who mutters “quit babying me,” when you nag him about missing meals, but still eats whatever you give him without complaint.
cal gabriel, who has something small of yours that he keeps stuffed on his pocket—a bracelet, a hair tie, or even a note you scribbled for him in class. all of these ended up in the fire.
cal gabriel, who likes to carve your initials on random surfaces around school—lockers, desks, and even the bathroom wall. but his favourite canvas was his own skin—hidden from everyone but him.
cal gabriel, who has perpetually cold hands and always slides them under your sweater or onto your neck just to hear you yelp, laughing while you smack him away.
cal gabriel, who loves it when you grab his freezing hands and hold them between yours, rubbing warmth back into his icy-ass fingers while he mumbles, “they’re not that cold” (even though they are).
cal gabriel, who sometimes doesn’t let go of your hands even after they’ve warmed up, his fingers staying intertwined with yours.
cal gabriel, who freezes for a moment when you ask him about graduation and college, his usual smirk faltering before he quickly deflects: “college? i dunno, maybe i’ll take a year off.”
cal gabriel, who avoids your gaze when you press him about the future, running a hand through his hair and mumbling, “i don’t think that far ahead,”
cal gabriel, who is sweeter than usual in the days leading up to zero day. he’s always been sweet to you, but now there’s a weird sense of urgency to it—like he’s trying to cram a lifetime of memories into just a few days. he takes you out to see a random movie “bridget jones’s diary,” you don’t even remember half of it because you guys spent most of the time making out in the back row.
cal gabriel, who presses his forehead to yours after breaking the kiss, his breathing uneven when you ask him if he’s okay, whispering a soft “yeah” before pulling you back in, like he doesn’t want to talk about it.
cal gabriel, who filmed a tape just for you, apologising to you and explaining everything he couldn’t in person. it ended with a quiet, “i love you.” but the tape doesn’t not end up in the deposit box, and as cal and andre burned their belongings, he throws it into the fire, thinking it wasn’t fair to put you through that pain.
that’s all i can come up with for now :p
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