#a little tidbit in my mind
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
please more apocalypse au please pretty please
(I almost fell out of my chair and broke my neck from how happy I got seeing this lol)
So so for the Aau, there’s a lot to explain. But I should get the ground rules of before the infection that spreads (this is technically an infection AU but eh, apocalypse seems more fitting)(this AU was in help with one of my friends in the beginning of it)
so- let me just dig deep into my Google doc real quick
Before the apocalypse starts, life is normal. There’s a small town, which has most of the characters mentioned in the entirety of the characters living in it.
scar lives with the clockers (minus etho, he left, BUT he will show up later…)(also his attire is his normal skin, BEFORE the apocalypse begins)
(I will be making a post as to why his outfit changes into what was seen in the drawing I made)
grian lives with Pearl (Who is a college student)
Pearl is very much into arts and crafts, so they tend to have very bizarre stuff around the apartment (like gas masks from when Pearl would spray paint things)
gem works at a diner, with Skizz being a cook and Tango being a waiter (alongside Gem)
the four of them don’t know each other EXCEPT Grian and Scar
(Scar, Grian, Pearl, and Gem are pretty much the main four, although more people join on in later)
who used to be in the same middle school and sat next to each other in math class. They would talk occasionally, mainly just Grian helping Scar read the problems and make sense of them or just lending a pencil to one or the other.
one day, Scar gets bullied heavily (it usually happens, but it’s more of a tease). Why does he usually get teased? Because he brings Jellie to school, who is licensed as his emotional support animal and the school just doesn’t care if Jellie is there or not.
but this time, someone took is too far. We’ll call this guy ‘bully’
bully gets a bit psychical taking a book binder from Scar’s bag and tracing it along his face, saying some things, the cut draws blood (and eventually turns into a scar later on in his life)
but out of nowhere, the bully get shoved into the ground, by who? None other than Grian! Grian is one of the only hybrids in the school, him being an Avian, or more specifically Macaw, he draws a lot of attention. see, the town isn’t exactly fond of Hybrids, it’s more discriminatory than most places. So the chances of the bully getting expelled is lower than Grian getting expelled
Grian continues to fight the bully, and the bully fights back
it’s eventually broken up by a teacher, and they’re sent to the office. Grian gets expelled, and is never seen again by Scar
that is until a faithful day in his senior year, where after school, he goes to Theatre, the only place he’s really accepted in. Ren is the teacher.
As Ren is teaching the Theatre club and gives them just a scenario to get a feel for the play they’ll be doing (a mock of third life)
the people in the theatre club include
Scar (18)
tango (19)
Mumbo (on sound)(18)
Katherine (yes, she’s here, it’s important I have to include Nature wives in here somehow, but that’s all of Empires that will be in this AU probably. Other than that, it’s a mix of the life series and Hermitcraft)(18)(set)
Joel(18) (EYYY IT’S THE ONE WITH THE EGO!)
and more
They all take turns being the “lead” in this script, Joel voltuneers to go first
as they’re performing lines, Joel happened to forget a prop, so he calls out to someone who is sitting by the prop table that’s next to Ren’s desk.
that someone happens to be Grian, Grian panics as he didn’t expect to be called on or spoken to at all during this. He throws the prop (a wooden sword) and accidentally hits Scar in the head (Sound familiar? COUGH first death COUGH lol)
Scar passes out and luckily, he doesn’t get a concussion because author logic. While he passes out, there’s a flashback scene (AKA THE FIGHT FROM MIDDLE SCHOOL THAT WAS STATED EARLIER :D)
Scar wakes up and sees Grian, who is apologising but Scar’s ears are ringing, he points to Grian and just says “You look familiar…” and then closes his eyes again. When he wakes up, Theatre is about over and there’s an ice bag on his head and the mysterious “stranger” (grian) that he saw, is now gone. Scar goes up to Ren, and talks to him about him
Ren mentions that that was a brother of a friend from college (Pearl). He tells Scar that he doesn’t go to school and is technically homeschooled but borrows stuff from here. Ren also let’s Scar know that Grian feels like he owes Scar a favour or anything because he feels bad that he hit him in the head with a wooden sword.
Scar leaves the class with Jellie and his stuff and takes the bus home, on the way home he can’t help but think about what favour he would owe this guy, or if he’d ever see him again?
he goes home and Cleo asks him about his day, he brushes it off as a normal one, but it really wasn’t. Scar lays on his bed, too tired to change and ends up falling asleep.
(Then there’s a time skip, but that should be saved for a whole different post)
that’s basically like a prologue I guess? Idk, I can turn this into a proper Ao3 chapter, and maybe have a whole fic for this
this whole thing was taken out of my doc, from the section labeled “CHAPTER PLANS” lololol
#Aau!#my au#hermitblr#desert duo#grian#gtwscar#geminitay#pearlescentmoon#rendog#apocalypse au#a little tidbit in my mind
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tuesday Tidbits:
~1 in 18 people have a third nipple. 🤔
~The average male orgasm lasts six seconds; the average female orgasm lasts twenty seconds. (not long enough.😂)
~LEGO bricks withstand compression better than concrete.😳
~Orgasms can lower a woman's risk of heart disease & breast cancer.(Help your girl out🤣!)
~Despite what men claim, only 15 percent have a penis longer than seven inches. (Stop fibbin'...😉).
~Identical twins don't have the same fingerprints.
~Orgasms can make women more creative. (This is 💯% true, IMO. 😂)
Have a fabulous day & don't forget to laugh a little!!😘😂
#tuesday morning#tuesday tidbits#my thoughts#my mind#humor#humour#live laugh love#laugh a little#smile#laughter#have a great day#beccawise7#connection#shes got jokes#jokes#funny post#funny shit#laugh#hilarious#tumblr tuesday#so silly
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
whispers of freedom and love spoken to flowers
#one piece#one piece fanart#op#op fanart#corazon#donquixote rosinante#citrus art#i love flower language sm so im explaining a bit of it here since i changed my mind on coloring the flowers#left side is meant to have flowers representing doffys feelings of corazon#yellow carnations for disdain and disappointment#lavender for distrust#black dahlias for betrayal#and mismatched poisonous flowers (wolfsbane and deadly nightshade)#on the left is flowers representing laws feelings#forget me nots which i dont think need much explanation#butterfly weeds which mean 'let me go'#hyacinths for sorrow and mourning#and crimson roses also for mourning#AND ONE MORE LITTLE TIDBIT corazon is holding a lily which are typically used at funerals#and directly above his head are supposed to be white roses also used in funerals#have to specify colors since i chose to not color them in :/
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
One thing I also wanted to discuss was how Tubbo used this shot in his starting soon(ish) screen and how the lightning change on this shot (prob unintentionally) held a much more deeper meaning.
It started with all the light focused on Tubbo while Fred stays in the shadows much similar to how Fred was initially under the shadows of the Federation and how they did not know much about the working sof the human world. Then Tubbo came out of nowhere, - like a flashbang - bright light into their life with his talking at 20 words/minute and being the nicest person more than Fred had ever witnessed. Fred didn't even realize how gingerly Tubbo somehow slithered his way into their life making their days brighter and providing them a better insight into what it's like being human by making them feel a whole myriad of emotions.
Then the lighting changes as the day rolls on and all the light starts moving towards Fred. Just the juxtaposition of sunlight reflecting onto Fred possibly indicating how they are the one going towards the light now. Meanwhile, Tubbo is sat in the shade much like how he is left behind in darkness of grief and loneliness now that he has lost Fred. Much time has passed and now both of them are changed people but the tragedy of the circumstances have rendered them unable to exist under the same light. This also pays a nod to how their infatuation was an astute example of forbidden love on the island given how both of them belonged to opposed factions (for the lack of a better word) - one to the federation and one to the islanders.
And then eventually all the light goes away indicating how once Fred was taken away both of them lost the person that was proving to be the light of their lives. Tubbo was enforced into a situation where he either had to accept that Fred is gone forever or latch onto a bit of what could be false hope that Fred is alive and embark on a mission to look for them. Meanwhile, Fred had been convinced by Quackity that the person they cared most about hates them now due to the lies that had been spread about them. As a result, both of them continued to live in darkness never being able to find out what the original truth was.
And lastly we finally fade to Tubbo sitting all by himself in darkness indicating how he has now accepted the reality of the situation and hence accepted the fact that Fred is never coming back. Also it is so bittersweet how he is surrounded by amaranths - a flower that is important to him with regards to Fred and which symbolises death and longevity - how Fred is gone but they will stay forever in Tubbo's memories and also by yellow Daffodils which symbolise rebirth, new beginnings, hope, joy, and good luck - all of the things Tubbo has now encountered with Sunny and is choosing to focus on right now albeit at the cost of dampening his real emotions.
#Don't mind me#I love over analysing little tidbits#i just wanted to get my brain worms out#qsmp#tubbo#fred#meta#frubbo#pen pals#analysis#mika mumbles#Fred Funeral#fred funeral day
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have a new dead boy detectives obsession did I tell you that yet lol
#dead boy detectives#I will always tag for you guys my loves (said platonically)#the fandom is so nice & cool & they talk about all the little psychological tidbits & hints in the show & urgrrrrrghhsyshhggh#it isn’t a hyperfixation no no no creepypasta is still haunting my mind#I just think they’re neat#is this what the good omens fandom was like#I don’t think it was but the thought makes me happy#wait no one tell me#the fanfiction make my happy chemicals go brrrrr#chemicals? x virus reference xvirus refernce omg xvirusbrevienr e#planning on talking about how everybody has their own itirations (is that the right word?) of the creeps (Toby specifically)#Toby get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head#the voices are getting louder & it’s just Toby’s
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
thank you all for the loud support of my writing - truly, it means so much to me i (ironically) can't articulate it
i am hoping to have chapter 3 up for talk about it by this weekend! (i have completely half-assed writing the gridball game im so sorry lmfaooo)
#stardew valley#sdv#stardew harvey#sdv harvey#stardew valley fic#stardew farmer#i am writing every day#and every day im like is this how sports work#ALSO little tidbit: i almost considered ending this chap on an awful cliffhanger#and cackled thinking about it#but changed my mind
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
[image id: An image from God Eater 3 depicting a memory of a young Keith Pennywort, Din Pennywort, and Oulu Pennywort. Din is a young boy with short, spiky hair that sticks out all over the place. Oulu is a young boy with longer hair that goes to his chin and bangs that completely cover his eyes. /end id]
Okay, I was playing through Keith's Traversing the Past and took a minute to properly look at the pictures, and maybe I'm late to the party on this, but...
It's Din and Oulu! They have actual designs! And they're so much tinier than I realized! I thought they were a few years older than Hugo and co., but they're positively tiny!
I almost wonder if I should re-read my translations and see if I need to adjust some dialogue. And maybe take a second look at the physical descriptions because Oulu's hair is shorter than what I thought it'd be.
God, I want more of these two. And pre-main story content in general. It's a crime that so much lore is exclusive to five online character novels. I know we're all waiting for God Eater 4, but I want a GE3 prequel anime, dammit!
#god eater 3#ge3#din pennywort#oulu pennywort#devil chrono tag#i'm always on the lookout for possible corrections i need to make#just today i found out gadolin's theme is called authority's mediator#and i remembered i translated something as arbiter of authority#lo and behold the kanji for the theme and the novel line match up#so many little tidbits that are so easy to miss#as much fun as i had translating the novels#i wouldn't mind seeing the official localization team take a crack at it#if only to give us official localizations for names#my brain still goes back and forth on din or dean and oulu or owl
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
oh yeah i’ve got a bunch of loz aus that i haven’t really talked about. a few of them are listed and slightly explained in this poll and explanation reblog but i haven’t gone out of my way to actually list the aus i have and really explain them. so that’s what this post is for. here are some... decently simple explanations of my major aus and what they're generally about
i have two kinds of aus: original aus (loz aus that are set in their own kinds of worlds with their own stories and twists on character roles) and then crossover aus (we all know how this works i just mash loz and a thing i like together)
original aus: (many currently dont have actual titles, so the titles will often just be concept shorthand)
in the court of the crimson king/crimson king au: probably the most developed and closest to being written out. it's got one of the longer premises; set in a industrial-esque hyrule city, following linebeck as the main character, as the adoptive older brother of link and aryll, living with them and their grandmother as the only one able to reliably make money to pay for rent and food, leaving every other week to do jobs, but he moonlights as the 'demon of the gray moon', a masked persona he'd created as a child that had long since become a city-wide urban legend, anonymously taking unsavory jobs from whomever can contact him and offer pay, often working directly for bellum, a childhood friend, the one who enabled and trained him to become the demon, and one of five anonymous leaders of the city. linebeck effectively lives a double life, and tries to stay out of too much trouble to avoid drawing attention to himself or making his adoptive family worry, but he gets dragged into more and more danger as bellum becomes curious about the identities of the city's other leaders, and linebeck falls in love with a man named ganondorf, suspected to be one of those other city leaders. ive got a few posts related to it already: this one being another vague concept descriptor, this one being an actual scene i have written out.
'gimmick' au: i cannot explain the gimmick without spoiling the au. put simply, in this au, hyrule as a whole has been at war for ten years, every race and kingdom taking sides in a conflict that seems to be going nowhere. link joined the hylian army young, and has made his way up the ranks to become trusted by queen zelda herself, and things in the war take an interesting turn as he and zelda discover a new faction, unaligned with any particular kingdom and with unknown motives, and zelda decides to set out to the different parts of hyrule, link and a chosen group of trusted allies in tow, intending to try negotiation one more time before things take a turn for the worse.
sci-fi/space au: the fun one that probably would need to be done in a visual medium. it takes place in a solar system of a few planets, link growing up on the planet hyrule and occasionally traveling to the others as a knight specializing in investigating and taking down dangerous bounty hunters, working for zelda as a friend. he and zelda uncover a plot by the yiga clan to accumulate a number of highly dangerous research and weapons held by each species as they aim to resurrect a demon to wreck havoc on the solar system- the b plot being about the top bounty hunters in the solar system screwing around, eventually colliding with link and zelda's a plot as it begins to involve them.
murder mystery(?) au: one of the older ones, maybe one of the oldest that i still stick with. this might actually be one of the first ones i tried writing. the plot begins when zelda returns to hyrule city years after her father- the former mayor- was murdered, finding that he has been replaced by ganondorf and that while things seem fine enough on the surface, random and organized crime run the show, and she begins a private detective agency as 'sheik', a masked young man, and with the help of impa, and old friend and confidant, she moonlights as sheik and uses her daytime identity as zelda to help chip away at some of the city's biggest problems and finds herself drawn into a long string of murders that appear to be anything but random violence.
ruined hyrule 1: i have two au’s with the premise of hyrule being ruined. neither of them have more specific names yet. this one begins with the majority of greater hyrule's population having long since locked themselves in hyrule castle town in order to escape the increasingly dangerous wildlife. zelda, a young girl at the beginning, becomes curious about what lies beyond the city walls, and makes friends with many other children within this sheltered hyrule, and as they grow up together, aim to eventually venture out into the wilderness to see what may have caused the outside world to become so incredibly hostile.
ruined hyrule 2: the other ruined hyrule. set in a devastated hyrule, roughly ten years after the royal family was killed, link failing to save them or hyrule in the time since. he now resolves to set out and indiscriminately destroy every demon that plagues the ruined hyrule, meeting and bringing along various allies, each of which has been uniquely affected by and have different lived in this altered, dangerous shell of hyrule.
modern (school): i also have two modern aus. this one isn’t plot driven, just a concept i have, would work best as little vignettes or something. essentially just the idea of a group of loz characters hanging out together in a modern high school (or college?) setting.
modern: this is the one with an actual plot. follows the general idea of zelda characters living in a modern world only for the typical legends to begin resurfacing and heralding dark events. plot specifics are murky, but that's the general idea.
dark mage: this is the au that where the seas meet the sands takes place in. basically just ganondorf x linebeck shenanigans in this alternate hyrule while actual plot sneaks up on them. named 'dark mage' mostly because the initial idea behind this au was that linebeck would learn magic.
horror au: doesn't have the best name, and it's ended up just being a personal sandbox for me. constantly changing, with the cast and setting often altering if i find that something isn't working or sticking. it's an au i've considered (and even briefly tried) writing in the past, but it's still too fluid, and writing horror effectively is difficult. it's a fun au, though.
mecha au: spawned because i watched neon genesis evangelion. a lot of this au's basic concepts can be found here: x but the short version is that hyrule is being besiged by massive monsters, but each race has created their own mechs to combat them. link is just a farmer who happens to have a strange knack for being a mech user, so is brought in by zelda as a gamble to bolster their chances, and he is tasked with working with a new and less-than-trustworthy crew to help fight those monsters.
'amnesia link' au: an au that sprang up in about a day and hasn't gotten too far since. basic premise being that three years prior to the story, link and a group of allies has faced off against ganondorf and, despite their best efforts, lost, with link being presumed dead by their enemies. now, link has woken up from his coma, his memories gone and hyrule taken over, and, with guidance, must once again travel across hyrule, aiming to rediscover his allies and try to face ganondorf once more.
A quick list of crossovers: I won't explain these in length, since they can range from having their own plot to just being a fun mental concept. So, the things I have made crossover aus with are:
Warrior Cats
Batman
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure
Persona 5
Pokemon
(there are other, smaller ones, these are just the ones i consistently pay attention to)
So! These are the majority of my legend of zelda aus, some of which I may write, some of which just exist in my mind for fun, all of which I wouldn't mind talking more about if anyone is curious!
#i had to find an actual list i made to remember most of these tbh#salty talks#salty's loz aus#lmk if any of the colored text on here is hard to read i can change it#for some of the duplicate name aus the colors help me remember which is which but ill change it if it makes it hard to read#this took absolute ages to finish partially bc i dont have much physical evidence of these aus. they live in my mind and my mind only#my favorite little tidbit is that in the space au linebeck is a bounty hunter known for being a really skilled sniper#and i did not. in fact. be inspired by sniper tf2. this au predates my knowing about tf2. space au linebeck is inspired by fuckin#ttgl yoko littner and sao (gags) sinon. this will always be funny to me. space au linebeck is probably one of my favorite au linebecks#fun fact also. counting the crossover aus linebeck plays an antagonistic role at some point in 10 of these aus#also anyways worth reminding that a lot of this shit isnt actually very developed. the murder mystery au does not have a lot of actual plot#most of the developed plot stuff in these aus tends to be directly connected to linebecks role in the story bc a lot of these aus happen to#exist bc one day i was like hm what if linebeck was in (hyperspecific situation that led to the creation of one of these aus)#gimmick au is a really good example of how a linebeck in xyz situation thought can spawn a huge fucking story#but i cant get too specific abt that without spoiling the fucking gimmick and ive already said too much#'dark mage' au is also called that bc i think it was REALLY inspired by me thinking abt linebeck in the fe awakening male dark mage outfit#this has been sitting in my drafts for. so long. and then in two days i slammed all of those out and bam. here we are#the crossover aus list is also a list of 'media that also gave me brainworms and therefore got the honor of meshing with the Big Interest'#im not even a big time batman fan i just saw the 2022 movie and scrolled through an entire blog dedicated to harvey dent#i know so fucking much about harvey dent. why is dc so fucking bad about him#anyways welcome to the bottom of the tags. hope you enjoyed your stay. these r my weird loz aus#post-ph isnt here cuz i dont consider it an au. its something else between ‘au’ and ‘speculative canon’
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Much in the style of my FHR height headcanons, I have decided Mason/Morgan is 5'7" (1.70m) and Felix/Farah is like 5'1" (1.55m)
Yes, this is in response to learning that vampirism canonically makes you taller. No, you cannot change my mind
#Not fhr#Wayhaven#For my sanity I am being lighthearted here#But also that little lore tidbit makes me lose my mind#Too many tall people in IF's#Need to kneecap these giants#Nate/Nat stays stupid tall because they need the awkwardness factor#Thinking about knocking a couple inches off adam/Ava too#Just for good measure
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
{Kotaro will likely be a reclusive and seculed lord of a manor that is hidden deep in the woods of Paris. From the outside the building looks abodoned and old but the interior isn't as its well decorated, the only way to find it is that you have to have someone from the guild to show you the way or if you are invited in since the mist/fog is dense enough you will get lost. Those who work under him know that he can be very strict with his training in all things of arts such as music and dance as he sends out his muse to gather information and hear rumours.}
#little tidbits of an idea of an verse that I have in my head#behind the demon mask{ooc}#i need to just type this out otherwise it will haunt me#also I got inspired to do this verse cause of listening to phantom of the opera and such#i hate my mind 50% of the time for these ideas btw
1 note
·
View note
Note
No because today at work my coworker just decided to drop a bunch of medical lore about their bff and it just about sent me into a spiral (it’s also related to the Big C)
Like bff, I don’t need that kind of anxiety in the morning
god that’s so fjwdnjdj not needed to drop on someone🫶
#asks#little#tidbit into my life rn my dad has that#c word but he’ll be okay! he’s going through treatments rn and seems to be going okay#but it’s obviously been at the forefront of my mind even MORE now
0 notes
Text
Toby coming back from a mission and is immediately swarmed and held down. They force him to drink a gallon of water (/j??) and cool tf off. They also pour water on him, and have him sitting in front of a draft. Bro is just sitting there quietly as he’s bandaged, before awkwardly signing out a thanks (it’s hard to talk because his tongue is very messed up.)
Bro cannot grasp the concept of pain or a break.
I hate Toby having CIPA so much 😭 like narratively it fucks hard bc Toby canonically would antagonize his dad whenever his dad started to get aggressive. to put his dad's focus on him and not his sister or mother. Like literally the youngest person in the household purposely putting himself in physical danger to protect the women in the family because he knew he wouldn't feel the pain. Puppeteer canonically calls Toby "his favorite punching bag". Toby likely thinks of himself and his body that way. he is a punching bag. that's his job.
And admittedly it's terrifying to imagine Toby trying to chase down and kill you, and finally you grab hold of a weapon and stab him, and he has...no reaction. doesn't even flinch. doesn't even notice you stabbed him.
But realistically speaking his CIPA is hell to write for because you have to ignore the fact that Toby most likely would have bitten off his own fingers or tongue as a child because HE CANT FEEL PAIN. And with Tourettes causing his body to move in unpredictable ways no doubt his injuries get even worse!
You wanna know what people with CIPA are most likely to die of? Overheating. CIPA also makes you unable to sweat or feel temperature. HE LIVES IN THE WOODS!!! AND HE CANT SWEAT!!!!! He has NO way to keep himself cool while he's running around trying to kill people
#creepypasta#ticci toby#not my post#star reblogs#this is so cool#I had to add on my own little tidbit#hope you don’t mind
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Tuesday Tidbits:
~One minute of passionate kissing burns 6.4 calories. (Pucker up😘).
~A tiny, male marsupial in Australia, has sex for up to 12 hours straight. The exhausted males drop dead shortly after. (I'm all for being an overachiever, but this seems counterproductive). 😬😜
~70% of people surveyed said they lied on their resumes. 37% of those people admitted to lying at work frequently. 👀🤥
~Exercise improves brain performance & helps you sleep better. 🧠🏋️ #fact
~A female orgasm can burn between 60-100 calories, where male orgasms only burn 3-5. (Raise your hand, ladies, if you want to drop some calories). 🙋😂
~Men & women who perform oral sex on their partners are healthier & happier than those who don't. (I've been saying this for years). 🤣🤷
~It costs nothing to be kind. ✌️💜🖤✌️
Have a fabulous Tuesday & don't forget to laugh a little!
~beccawise7 💜🖤
#tuesday tidbits#my thoughts#laughter#live laugh love#sense of humor#laugh a little#tuesday morning#tuesdays#my mind#fun facts#funny shit#funny post#connection#be kind#kindness is free#laughs#beccawise7#coffee time#smile
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
Carrot Cake [Zayne + Son ★ 1257 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Zayne and his son are identical in appearance, personality, and mannerism, but there is one thing that baffles Zayne about his son. A/N: Needed a smile today, so I finished a wip that’s been sitting around. ❤️ Another part of my LNDS Men + Their Child series, but circling back to Zayne again. 🥹
“Well, doctor, did we forget anything else?”
Zayne looked down at the little three-year-old boy sitting in the shopping cart. The toddler’s appearance was practically identical to his father minus the hair color. The boy grinned at his father.
“Cake!”
Zayne laughed. The little boy was definitely a mini-him.
“You’re right,” Zayne said thoughtfully, “We shouldn’t forget the cake.”
The boy’s smile slowly disappeared, almost as if he remembered something very important. He furrowed his brows in contemplation, speaking softly, “But Mommy said no cakes…”
Zayne leaned down, his face in front of his son, his smile gentle with a touch of mischievousness.
“Mommy is not here. Daddy is in charge,” Zayne said, his smile widening when his son grinned again. “Now what kind of cake should we get?”
“Carrot cake!”
“Denied.”
He pinched his son’s cheek when the little boy pouted. He sighed with mock-exasperation. “I swear you and your mother are always messing with me.”
“But Daddy…carrot cakes are yummy…”
Zayne raised a brow, feeling doubtful. “Who in their right mind would think to use such an ingredient in a dessert…”
“Mommy likes carrot cakes!” the boy said suddenly, hoping this little tidbit of information could persuade his father to change his mind.
“Does she now?” Zayne smiled in amusement, seeing the boy’s earnest look. He casually resumed pushing the shopping cart through the aisle, absently looking at items after items on the shelves with faux interest.
“Yes!”
“She…or you, doctor?” Zayne paused in front of the condiment aisle and grabbed a bottle of soy sauce. As he turned to put the item into the cart, he met his son’s shy smile.
The boy looked bashful, almost embarrassed, as he answered quietly, “…both?”
Zayne laughed. “Maybe there is some truth in that conclusion,” he murmured, his next comment spoken lower and more to himself, “Your mother did eat a lot of carrots while pregnant with you…”
He continued to push the cart through the grocery store. “I don’t know, doctor, you haven’t been able to convince me why we should buy something so terrible.”
The boy frowned, his face scrunching up thoughtfully as he tried to think of a new convincing argument. He looked absolutely determined in his goal to persuade his father to change his mind about carrot cakes.
Zayne chuckled and continued to move through the aisles casually, taking his leisure time. He absently hummed along to the music playing overhead, occasionally sneaking glances at the quiet toddler. He could see his son was still thinking deeply, his only objective was his pursuit of the elusive carrot cake his father was denying him.
“Ah,” Zayne said suddenly, “Tofu is on sale. We can make mapo tofu tomorrow night for dinner.”
Zayne peeked at his son, still not hearing a response. He picked up two containers of silken tofu and placed them into the cart. He pinched his son’s cheek again. “Are you upset with Daddy now?”
The boy pouted. “…No…”
“That did not sound convincing.” Zayne leaned his face down closer again. “We can get a chocolate cake, a castella cake, strawberry, tiramisu…”
“…Carrot cake…”
Zayne playfully pretended he didn’t hear, and pushed the shopping cart through to the bakery department.
“We should get some sandwich bread for breakfast tomorrow,” Zayne said thoughtfully aloud as he examined the array of choices. “We still have that jar of raspberry jam you like…”
Zayne’s words fell on deaf ears. The little boy gasped, his green-yellow eyes catching sight of the cake display. He immediately zeroed in on the two-tiered carrot cakes. He reached out for his father, tapping Zayne’s hand impatiently.
“Daddy, Daddy, the cake, the cake!”
“Hmm?” Zayne continued to feign ignorance. “Oh, right, Mommy did ask us to pick up some steaks.”
He pushed the cart away, heading to the meat department. The little boy’s mouth hung wide open in shock as they walked further and further away from the bakery department. He looked up at his father, lips quivering, but Zayne continued to keep his sight ahead. The toddler slowly lowered his head, disappointed.
“Daddy…”
“Hmm?”
Zayne looked down, seeing his son was sulking. He smiled softly. “Do you want Daddy to hold you?”
The boy nodded and raised his arms up eagerly. Zayne chuckled. “Alright, alright, I will,” he said as he reached down to unbuckle the seatbelt. He lifted the boy out of his seat, and smiled as his son clung to him. He rubbed the toddler’s head gently. “Let’s hurry and finish shopping. Mommy’s waiting for these ingredients to make dinner.”
Zayne resumed shopping, one arm was carrying his son while his free hand pushed the cart and grabbed items from the shelves. When he was close to being done, he noticed his son had fallen asleep with his head resting on Zayne’s shoulder and his small fingers unconsciously rubbing at the material of his father’s coat. Smiling, Zayne, walked back over to the bakery department. He quietly motioned to the employee, pointing at the cake in the display.
He smiled gratefully as the employee handed him a small cakebox. He quickly finished shopping, paid for everything, and put them away in his car trunk.
Once he had returned the shopping cart to the store, he returned to his car, opening the back door and gently set his sleeping son in his car seat. As he buckled the toddler into his seat, Zayne quietly tapped his son’s shoulder.
“Wake up, sleepy head,” Zayne said softly, smiling at the little boy’s bleary eyes.
“Home?”
Zayne chuckled and shook his head. “Not yet,” he answered. He settled into the backseat and sat next to the child. The boy looked up confused.
“We can’t let Mommy know, alright?” Zayne said, pulling out a small cake box from a paper bag, his smile widening at his son’s bright eyes. “Our little secret, got it?”
The boy nodded eagerly. He gasped quietly when his father revealed the inside of the cake box. “Carrot cake!”
Zayne sighed in baffled amusement. “You look completely like me, but this…quirk…of yours…” He reached in and pulled out a small carrot cupcake, handing it to his son. He grabbed the other cupcake—a chai latte—and held the confection next to his son’s. They tapped the cupcakes together.
“Cheers!” both father and son said simultaneously.
The boy giggled and happily bit into his soft, sweet cupcake. Zayne smiled fondly, pleased to see his son’s smile again.
“You know, eating too many carrots will turn you orange,” Zayne warned teasingly.
“Like Windy Carrot?” the boy asked curiously, eyes growing wide.
“Almost,” Zayne said, laughing.
“Daddy?”
“Hmm?”
“…Will you still love me if I turn into a carrot?”
Zayne laughed again. He leaned down, nuzzling his face against his son’s before kissing his cheek. “I will never stop loving you…even if you were a carrot.”
The boy giggled again and turned to kiss his father’s cheek in return.
“I am certain you will be the only carrot I love,” Zayne added as he wiped the cream cheese frosting off his son’s mouth with his thumb. “Can’t leave behind any evidence, remember?”
The boy took the last bite of his cupcake, showing his hands to his father with a wide smile. “All gone! No evidence!”
Zayne finished his own cupcake, laughing. “All gone,” he repeated, “Our little secret from Mommy.”
The boy motioned with his finger over his mouth, shushing quietly. “Secret!”
“Good boy,” Zayne said, kissing the top of his son’s head. “Now let’s get home and help Mommy with dinner.”
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace zayne#lnds series — sweet little snowdrop#love and deepspace x reader#zayne x reader#love and deepspace fanfiction#lnds fanfics#x — fanfics#no carrot cake slanders#they're delicious#😤
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
hiiiii <333 I have lovedddd lovvvveeeddd alll of your works I actually spent my day reading each and everyone of them I love it so muchhh!! 😭❤️
I have a request teehee, could you write one where Sannie is like a professor in your college and there’s little teasing here and there and where he ends up having her alas!! DOM - SAN ‼️💋
his favourite
<prof!san x fem!reader>
Prof Choi likes playing favourites.
You’re his favourite.
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!
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.”
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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.”
taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @ywtf @woojirang @yuyusgirl
@jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie
network: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez smut#smut#ateez fic#kpop smut#choi san smut#choi san ateez#ateez choi san#choi san x reader#choi san#ateez san#san x y/n#cultofdionysusnet#atzhouse#cromernet
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
I can't stop thinking munch!spencer x reader who's insecure about having thick thighs (it's me, I'm reader)
take a seat | s.r
hi thank u for requesting!! i tried to be ambiguous about reader’s size but if it doesn’t come across that way lemme know and ill fix it!!!
wc: 1.7k
cw: 18+ smut minors dni, afab reader, face sitting, munch!spencer my beloved, insecure!reader who i took to be a little self indulgent sorry, fluff, hurt comfort but no hurt lol
this is also not proofread sorry
_______________________________________________
the thing about spencer is if you have any fear or qualm about anything, his main verbal form of comfort is information. and it’s not a bad thing, not at all. finding comfort in the facts is what spencer hopes to achieve when he spews his tidbits. it’s just, sometimes it’ll do more harm than good, or even worse, do nothing at all.
that’s where you’re at right now, sitting in spencer’s room with your legs tucked under you while he sits up at the head of the bed. the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, tie strewn somewhere in the room. you’re still fully clothed albeit in a loose t shirt and some panties. the want in his eyes is undeniable, his question still lingering in the air.
you weren’t exactly the most confident person, but was anyone really? did people really wake up in the morning, look at themselves in the mirror and say, ‘wow, i look beautiful today.”? tell themselves they’re going to have a good day because they said so?
so when you’d spent your whole life living in the shadows trying to blend in and just do your job, one day an ever observant spencer reid saw you struggling to carry your coffee and your bag into the bullpen and came to your rescue before it could spill all over you. you were a mumbling mess, uttering thank you’s and i’m so sorrys and i’ll be more careful next time. but his gaze on you was unwavering, even in the face of your uneasiness, and firmly but softly told you nothing was wrong, and suggested that maybe you and him should get coffee before work to avoid this rush next time.
falling in love with him was too easy after that.
spencer never failed to make you feel cherished, loved, safe, always going above and beyond to care for your needs and wants. the trust you had in him was immense and you knew he would never steer you astray.
so sitting in front of him on his bed while he adorns a small smirk asking, no telling, you to sit on his face, made you falter a bit.
“you want me, to sit on your face?”
he nods, “yeah.”
any thought you’ve ever had vanishes from your brain, “b—but, won’t it be uncomfortable? for you?”
“not at all.”
seeing spencer be surprisingly calm about this is having the opposite effect on you, creating the unsettlement in your gut. like he’s been thinking about this for while, has wanted you at his mercy in a way you haven’t experienced before, has thought through all the facts and possibilities and ruled with absolute certainty that this was what he wanted, needed. and right now your body is betraying your mind as the heat pools between your legs.
but that brain of yours, a blessing with its vast knowledge but a curse at how easily a single thought can send you into a deep spiral, is working overtime to convince you that this isn’t really what he wants.
he can see the cogs working overtime and scoots closer to you and places a comforting hand on your thigh to rub soothing shapes with his thumb, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
“nothing i-“ you stop before you can get too deep.
his eyes look at you expectantly, luring you to continue.
“what if i hurt you?”
“that is literally impossible.”
“what if i suffocate you?”
“then that would be a great way to go out.” he chuckles.
you lightly slap his leg, “stop that.”
he gestures you closer to sit curled into his side, a comforting arm smoothing you up and down. “if you really don’t want to do it that’s okay i don’t want to push you, just want you to feel good s’all.”
you ponder for a minute, “…you would tell me if it’s too much right?”
“i would,” he nods, “but i won’t need to.”
he squeezes your hand in reassurance, and you remember that spencer reid would never lie to you.
which is why you say, “okay.”
his eyes light up like a carnival, “yeah?”
you take a deep breath, “yeah.”
“come here,” cupping your cheek to bring in and kiss you.
it starts off slow, deliberate. like he wants you to know how much he appreciates you placing your trust in his possession, and how gently and carefully he’s going to take care of it.
you hike a leg over his lap to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his lips mark you like a road map. he moves down your jaw and uses his nose to nudge your neck away, giving him better access to litter the skin with love bites.
the moans spilling from your mouth spur him on, he starts subconsciously bucking his hips up causing you to grow restless for more.
he senses this and motions for you to lift up on your knees above him so he can slide his body down flat between your legs. the warm palms of his hands rest where your thighs meet the swell of your ass.
you look down at the sight of him laid out for you, and catch his shit eating grin staring back. the dichotomy this position gives you with a sense of power to be over him like this but the vulnerability at feeling so exposed caused a swirl of emotions for you.
“hey,” he squeezes his palms laid on your ass, “if this is a lot, that’s okay.”
“no, no.i think i want this. i’m just scared.” you softly admit.
“nothing to be scared of, angel. it’s not like i haven’t eaten you out before, it’s just a different position,” his hands move closer to your core, “let me make you feel good, please.”
you stare into his eyes once more, being met with nothing but trust and lust for you. with a deep breath, you nod your head.
he smirks again, “alright sweetheart, take a seat.”
you slowly inch your body up his own, hearing him outwardly groan as your cunt came into his line of sight.
“jesus fuck, you have the prettiest pussy.”
you preen at his words once you’ve reached the position, and you hover in hesitation. he wraps his arms under and around your legs and gently pulls you down.
and he attacks you like a man starved. his tongue licking a full stripe up your cunt, letting it swirl around your clit. the feeling is so intense in this position you have to lean forward and brace yourself on the headboard.
with a gasp you whine out his name, “oh my god, fuck.” he continues to use his tongue to barrel you towards your peak, knowing exactly where to touch and lick to rile you up.
he can tell you’re still holding back, feeling the tense muscles in your upper thighs harden under his touch. with a sharp tug he pulls you to be seated fully on his face, and he lets out a deep groan that vibrates through your whole body.
you’re fully at his mercy now, held down by his large hands and his mouth working so hard to make you see stars. the pleasure is overtaking all of your senses, when you look down to meet his eyes they’re staring right back at you, reveling in your ecstasy. a languished moan leaves you as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull.
he laps up your arousal with urgency, tongue moving in such a delicate and intricate way you would think he’s writing a love letter with it.
the coil in your gut starts to tighten and you can feel your peak coming fast, “spence…” you whine.
he hums in response, silently acknowledging what you mean. one more slow lick up and down your slit was all it took to push you overboard. the endorphins rush over you like a tsunami as you try to ride out the wave of your orgasm.
spencer doesn’t stop his motions and continues to work your overly sensitive clit, gripping your legs tighter to him as he prevents you from escaping.
“shit, oh god baby, you need to st—stop.” you brokenly moan out. you tug on his hair hard as you try to release his grip on you, and after a few minutes he takes pity and lets you go.
you let out a big and tired sigh as you flop to the side of him, one leg still draped over him as you’re both panting heavily, attempting to come down from the heat of the moment.
he smoothes out the leg over him with his hand and turns to face you, face plastered with a stupid grin and glistening with you.
“see? that wasn’t so bad.”
you scoff breathlessly, “i think maybe you’re trying to kill me.”
“maybe,” he laughs, “ but you liked it right?”
you nod bashfully, “did you…like it?”
his eyes widen, “are you kidding? you looked so hot it drove me insane. you’re always so beautiful but having you like that…i like making you feel good, it makes me feel really good, and that is a win-win.”
you smile at him and move closer to fit under his arm and into his side, your hand resting on his chest. he tightens his arm around you and whisper, “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you say through hooded eyes. your hand starts trailing lower, “must have been really good for you seeing how painful this looks.” you softly say, gesturing to the aching bulge in his boxers, the dark patch stained by precum.
his breath hitches as you inch closer, “baby, no it’s okay. you don’t have to do th—“ the sentence gets cut off when your hand gives him a tentative squeeze.
“i don’t have to, but i want to. i should thank you somehow for making me feel so good,” your voice dropping an octave in lust, “will you let me show my thanks, honey?”
you stare at him with the sultriest doe eyes he’s ever seen, and he’s thoroughly convinced in that moment that you are, in fact, trying to kill him.
still a great way to go out, he thinks.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fanfiction
2K notes
·
View notes