#and then i can send them to my profs

[howabhwmwn]

Why is writing my bachelor proposal taking so long. Its all in my brain. Just freaking download ig from there

[airenyah]

update on my thesis: i STILL haven't written a single word for it, i'm STILL missing 4k words

buttttttt!!!!!!

i've gone through my literature and analyzed almost all my examples and done almost all the research i still needed and taken notes sooooooo

that means all that's left to do is to turn my notes into actual proper sentences

[pallases]

engineering tutoring session room is once again abandoned 😐🔪

[jentlemahae]

-

[k-hotchoisan]

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

[marigoldenblooms]

That's a Wrap - One Shot

Pairing: Director!Natasha x Fem!Actor!Reader x Actor!Wanda (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Summary: You and Wanda can’t seem to get this scene right. With your director’s help, you manage.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Is Y/N in the room with us right now (They aren’t), Dom!Natasha, Switch!Wanda, Bottom!Reader. Dub-con, power dynamic (Director/Actor), voyeurism, degradation, praise, semi-public sex, semi-orgasm denial, light edging, objectification, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap-on use(R receiving), some pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling, ma’am, Tasha(For N), Wan/Wands(For W), Mommy(For W, used loosely)), Nat calls her strap her dick, semi-previous established relationship? Porn with plot, clothed sex, sextape, light aftercare, fluff at the end. 

A/N: Welcome to the first issue of Smut Saturdays! Want to really create some good shit in this genre, so I'm posting at least one spicy fic every Saturday (if I can help it)! This came to me in a vision (called the five minutes before my math class)- After my last smut fic did well (An Important Lesson, Prof!Wanda x Reader, which you can read here), I thought I’d do some WandaNat practice! Not proofread, written in the span of an evening. This is a crime against intimacy coordinators, I’m so sorry. Asides over. Natasha wears a strap to her films and she can dick me down with it, please and thank you!

Word Count: 2.4k - Read Length: 8 minutes, 49 seconds.

~~~

It was never fun when the producers came by. 

They’d always arrive in droves of two or three, never the top dog- as if Natasha’s ‘avant-garde chick flick’, as they called it, wasn’t worth their time. They certainly treated it as much. Today was the worst day for them to arrive, in pressed jackets and always on a phone call, because today you were filming the sex scene. It was more of a ‘romance’ scene, with alluring cinematography and enough passion to make your eyes fall out, yet you hadn’t even gotten to remove any clothes from your beautiful costar- Wanda. You knew she was incredible, her previous films as a fem fatale showing her dominant streak, however the spark couldn’t burn when interruptions from the suits kept happening. You weren’t on a porn set, and yet sometimes you wish you were. Might’ve been faster, or at least more fun. 

“From the top,” A groveled voice muttered, Natasha’s steely gaze breaking into your skull-  though a part of you wished she’d break your back. The redhead had always been an inspiration, one of the leading reasons for your participation in her project, besides her being so fine. But now, she looked pissed, worn down by hours of appeasing the producer’s half-baked suggestions and guarding you and Wanda from their prying eyes. “Yes Ma’am,” you replied, earning a slight chuckle from your director, the twinkle in her eye not lost on you- she was on her last legs, but it was yours and Wanda’s compliance that kept her going.

You’d return to your blocking, centered in the middle of your ‘apartment bedroom’, with Wanda’s hand placed gently on your waist. Your roles were lovers, reuniting after a long day of hardship, slowing down after it all. You’d stare up at her, the mild exasperation in your expression making her smile. She’d send a wink down to you, muttering something about being ‘bored too’, but ‘not hating kissing you again’, or the like. She’d invited you out to coffee tonight, and especially after a day like this, you’d take it. Perhaps you’d even forget the paparazzi and really kiss her as you’d been wanting to do this whole shoot. Throw a bone to the fanfiction writers and make their canon comply with reality. Maybe. It was Natasha’s words which startled you from your thoughts, a look of tenderness overcoming your face as you’d sink into your character, “Action!” 

Within an instant, Wanda hiked her hands under the hem of your shirt, eyes darting down to your face. Her palms were warm against you, smooth against your soft skin, as your head rested gently on her shoulder. She’d tug at the fabric- and you’d send her a quick nod, smiling as you’d lean up to capture her lips in yours-

 “Well that’s not very marketable!” A producer would crow, scoffing with both his hands outstretched towards the two of you. You’d freeze, feeling all of the passion drain out from the scene, no more than a shell of itself. His bald head wasn’t very marketable, looking like a morally dubious Mr. Clean- and yet you didn’t comment on it. He’d look at Natasha, the woman pinching the bridge of her nose with a stern sigh, and you gulped. Oh, shit. She was going to lose it. “Can’t you get their clothes off faster? Our focus groups won’t wait around for-”

“Fucking Christ, get- out!” Natasha shouted, a growl in her tone bringing heat to your face. She scowled, roaring to the surrounding suits, “Leave, get off my set- it’s my fucking turn to direct them.” Her hands would fan away their deer-in-headlights looks, ushering them out before locking the door. Her fiery gaze would bore into you then, jaw locked as her heels would click towards you and Wanda, many feet apart. 

The two shared a knowing nod- And before you could speak, your director grabbed Wanda by her shirt collar and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Your jaw would drop as the brunette’s eyes widened, fluttering shut as Wanda moaned into the embrace- Natasha’s hands planted firmly on her tits. She’d squeeze them, earning a gasp from Wanda, your costar’s head swung back as Natasha swiped her thumbs across her nipples. Your director’s gaze would strike yours, and you understood why Wanda’s submission was so quick. You shuddered at the redhead’s gleaming smirk, her voice a husked whisper, “Get those clothes off and get on the bed for me, baby. Now.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply was instant, Natasha’s grin only widening as you’d shed your layers, kneeling on the mattress’s soft sheets. They were cold, goosebumps settling up your spine yet you wouldn’t move, eyes trained obediently on Natasha. You were so perfect for her. 

Natasha’s mouth would return to Wanda’s, pressing her into the faux wall that had outlined the bedroom. Her hand would splay against Wanda’s stomach, and you saw how she hiked up the shirt there, continuing to palm her tits while unclasping Wanda’s bra with the other. She’d pepper kisses across the brunette’s neck, sucking hickeys the lower she’d go. 

They’d part only so Wanda’s top could come completely off, your director keeping a claiming touch on Wanda’s hip as she’d look back at you over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, mused from Wanda’s hands slung loosely around her shoulders while her expression remained flushed, dark eyes darting down to the slick that pooled between your legs. Wanda’s voice would ring to you, almost reverent as her hips would stutter against Natasha’s, “She’s fucking drooling for us, Tasha..” 

The redhead would bite back a smirk as she’d watch you twitch. You ached to touch them, yourself, anything- your hands already balled into fists on your thighs, legs rubbing together, desperate for friction. But neither had given the command, and you had an inkling from their hungry looks that they wanted you needy, right where they had you. Natasha’s rasp came second, “Then show her what I taught you.”

Wanda would reach you first, discarding the rest of her clothes in the process. Her hands trailed warm touches up your legs and to your chest, digging into your soft flesh as her lips would meet yours. It was explosive, sweet and tender yet with a ferocity that claimed you quickly, heating up your skin as her knee would slot between your thighs. You’d feel Natasha’s calloused fingers on the small of your back, the sinking of her weight in the mattress behind you, and her tone husked in your ear, “Stretch her out for me, Wan- like we practiced.” Your director’s words sent a buzz to your core, cunt grinding mercilessly into the sheets below as Wanda’s hand would trail there, dragging two fingers along your folds before arcing dazzling circles around your clit. 

You’d eagerly press your hips into her touch, moaning lowly as she’d chuckle, “So wet for me, sweetheart…bet I can just slip right in.” She’d coax her fingers inside, your pussy walls taking her gladly as Wanda curled her digits against that spongy spot. Your back would arch, head growing fuzzy as you’d feel your slick drip down her hand. Her thumb would press into your clit as you’d buck your hips against her, cursing a quick “Fuck-” which was quickly swallowed up by Wanda’s mouth. She’d bite your lip, dragging it with her teeth as she’d settle into her rhythm, spare hand palming your tits with a rougher grasp, “Been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart- pretty whore, just for us.”

 “Mhm, good girl just wants to be fucked, don’t you?” Natasha would grit, and you could see her stroking something behind your back. She’d unzipped her slacks- her strap heavy in her hand, glistening with the spit she’d gathered in her palm. Natasha bucked her hips against her hold, cursing as the cock’s base would rub against her clit. She looked incredible, sweat across her brow as her hand would clench around the toy, like she could feel it. “Keep going, Wands- want her perfect for my dick.”

 Natasha would pant, breathing ragged as her hand moved in time with Wanda’s fingers- curling into you almost torturously, feeling your cunt clench around her. The brunette’s kiss would claim you again, moaning into her warmth as her thumb would circle your clit. She’d sigh almost lovingly, fondness overtaking her expression as your head found the crook of her neck, “She’s already perfect, Tasha-” She’d coo, although her hand wouldn’t stop, gasping at the squelching sound of her fingers up your cunt, “This pussy was made for us, darling.” 

Their words and touch brought you so close, yet Wanda’s hands slowed down when she felt your legs quiver or your breathing seize up, never giving you what you needed. You’d squirm against Wanda, begging for more, a lingering touch, anything-  “Please, Wan- I‘m so close,” You whined, earning a tut from your costar. She’d devour your pleas, lost to time as her mouth would reach yours, softer than before. You felt her sympathetic smile against you as she’d shake her head, locking eyes with Natasha’s heavy stare, “Not yet, sweetheart..It’s not my turn anymore.”

The redhead groaned when Wanda slid her fingers out of you, her fingers shimmering with your arousal. Your walls fluttered around nothing, aching for anyone’s touch as you felt Natasha’s rugged grasp on your hips, pulling you up and back so your pelvis was against hers. The strap had warmed in her hand, dragging between your legs. You were dripping for her, soft sparks of pleasure seizing you as her tip would brush against your clit. Her voice would thunder through you, almost delirious with her own need, “Fucking finally..want this pussy all to myself…” 

Wanda would chuckle at that, your director kneading at your hips as Wanda’s thighs settled in front of your mouth, your arms propping yourself just above her soaked cunt. “We promised to share, Tasha..” She’d croon, face flushed and touch softer than Natasha’s as she’d cradle your face in her palms, “Such a pretty girl..are you ready for your reward, darling?” You nodded, a flurry of sensation hitting you all at once- Natasha’s strap sinking into you as the redhead would push your shoulder blades down, pressing your face between Wanda’s legs. 

The stretch was incredible, the woman behind you vicious as she’d drive her dick into you, bottoming out as your mouth would be smothered against Wanda’s cunt. Each thrust would drive Wanda crazy, your gasps and whimpers vibrating right into her core, especially as you’d flat your tongue against her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Her thighs would threaten to shut on you, her stretched words lost in your pussydrunk haze, “Yes, like that sweetheart- such a good girl..-” Natasha would rock her hips into yours, pace bruising as she’d pull your thighs flush to hers. You’d hear her muffled curses as she’d bottom out again, sighing as if she could feel you clench around her. “Baby..fuck, so perfect for us…” Wanda’s hands would thread into your hair, anchoring her hold on you as she’d press your face further into her cunt. 

The sight would echo a curse from Natasha’s mouth, her hips growing a little more erratic, “Fucking christ, she’s our perfect little whore, aren’t you baby-” You’d try to nod, moaning as Natasha’s hand would press further into your back, keeping you from moving an inch, “Don’t even think, baby- just fucking take it, fuck-” 

Time would seem to slow, your brain fuzzing into blissful static as you’d feel Wanda’s thighs tremor around your head, her grip tightening as she’d see your body tremble in Natasha’s touch. “Come with me, sweetheart- be a good girl and come for Mommy.” Her saccharine words spurred you into a blinding release, your tongue working Wanda through her orgasm as your body quaked with your own. You’d feel Natasha follow shortly thereafter, cursing aloud as she’d pull herself out of you, watching as you’d clench around nothing. Her hands would immediately find your waist, bringing you gently up to kneel with your back against her clothed front. 

Panting, your arms would shake as you’d catch your breath, leaning up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You could feel both women’s eyes on you as you’d suckle on your fingers, cleaning up with an exaggerated moan, looking towards Wanda as you’d pop your hand out of your mouth, your words almost dreamy, “Mmm, so good, Wan..” You’d giggle as Wanda’s face would alight in blush, although the clink of metal and fabric drove you away from your teasing.

Natasha’s hands would be rushed as she’d pull her pants and harness down, eyes heavy with a lust that made you shudder, “Switch with me, Wands-” She’d grit, thrusting the strap in her general direction before settling calloused palms on your still quivering thighs, her gaze boring into yours, “It’s my turn for her mouth.” 

Wanda’s smirk was immediate, sending you another sly wink, “Gladly.” 

------------------------------------------

Unbeknownst to the three of you, the cameras had never stopped rolling. That film would never be seen by the public, kept hidden once you left the building. Not to say it couldn't be enjoyed by you three, though.

Natasha and Wanda took you out to coffee afterwards as the brunette had promised. They explained their prior agreement to ‘test the waters’ with you, Wanda working with Natasha on a plan to woo you both in and out of character. The date went well, although with much less lingering glances and more almost-fucking in the back of Wanda’s car afterwards. It was there that the public and paparazzi learned of your relationship, although their camera flash thankfully stopped any romance before it got good. You weren’t on a porn set, after all- and Wanda kept your half-nude form hidden while Natasha cursed out the press. All in a day’s work. 

Unfortunately, the day’s work began anew the next day. Filming the romance scene was no difficult measure now, but Natasha’s grin and Wanda’s wandering hands blurred the lines of professionalism. The film crew couldn’t care less, a few of them- such as Kate, a script supervisor- mentioned how they knew it would happen eventually (and won a bet with Peter, who said it’d take until the award show for you three to get together). 

However, once you three escaped into Natasha’s office for some ‘paperwork’ as she’d called it, it didn’t matter. They were yours, and that was enough.  ~~~

[moosingrightalong]

Music is History

So i finished Music is History yesterday! Once again, we're sort of at an impasse because I don't really know what to say about an audiobook that isn't content based. I loved that there were interludes of music that were all contributed by The Roots instead of being, like, stock music. It was fun to hear Questlove read his own book because it felt very much like a podcast or a lecture (turns out he has taught classes in universities about this very topic). It was very interesting, though, I do wish I'd had the book version as well so that I could see the songs he writes about.

Like his autobiography, he divides all of his sections up with music (go figure). So he picks a song that, for him, defines the year. I loved hearing the history of the US through songs that made a huge impact, especially when we got into the MTV era so it was about the music videos as well, and post-Thriller culture and how that changed the charts for everyone.

The 2000s were interesting as well; he was very subjective with 2001 because for him the defining event was (of course) 9/11 and so the song for the year was one he chose that he listened to for the week he was in New York City afterwards. And then he goes on to talk about the history of music in the context of...living history. Which is kind of what music is?

Yeah, it was a good book! Enjoyed the experience!

[eternallyhyucks]

anton as a down bad college bf

— no warnings, fluff, wc: 311

— feeling crazy & insane i love anton real bad

𖤐 ྀ

you two were most definitely close friends before you started dating

the type to pay attention to and notice every little thing about you, but not say too much about it

like if you went to eat and mentioned you liked a specific kind of drink, he’d bring it for you another day

would 100% know your coffee order by heart

everyone knew he liked you way before you did just because of the way he looked at you

but you! are! clueless!

asks you to study so he can giggle at you struggling to finish anything

would listen to the same music as you while you’re doing work just because

also because he loves being around you so much

since you were friends before dating, your friends already know each other so when he’s over at your dorm or apartment, no one bats an eye

which is why he goes so often😁

loves when your friends tell him about how much you mention him

would leave his clothes at your place “by accident” and pretend he’s not about to start tweaking when you actually wear them

& loves when you give him your accessories to wear too

always texts you about things happening during his classes

“this kid keeps playing and losing that snake game”

“oh my god my prof wont stop teaching i cant believe hes actually doing his job rn”

“i should’ve skipped today”

speaking of skipping (which i do not condone😄), he would probably try and get you to skip with him so he can “be productive”

would have polaroids of the two of you hung up in his room omg & probably keeps one in his phone case, occasionally changing them😭😭😭😭

loves walking you to your classes, especially in the winter and fall time because it gives him an excuse to nonchalantly hold your hand :’)

©eternallyhyucks

taglist

@izchone , @baekswoons , @jiwon-44 , @junityy , @pr0dbeomgyu , @neos127 , @wccycc , @koishua , @changminurheart , @rainbowglitteramythyst , @baekhyunstruly , @soobin-chois , @yjwfav , @fairybinie , @sleepingisweak

!! unable to tag bolded

—send an ask if you would like to be a part of my taglist!!

[joonieskinks]

biker!simon riley x professor!reader

warning: swearing, seggsual tensionnnn

-

You met when you were running late to your next lecture across campus. You decided to take a short run in the rain outside rather than take longer inside going through the connected buildings.

A mixture of your hair in front of your face and trying to keep your papers from falling out your hands, he was this close to running you over.

“Fuck me!” You screech out just before the bike tire could meet your legs, halting suddenly. You whip your hair out of your face and eyes meet a black helmet, a void glaring back in your direction. Quite a bike for a big man, a man who is covered in tattoos. If you weren’t so pissed off, you’d probably think his physique attractive.

“My God, you almost hit me!”

“‘Yer the one who dashed out ‘nto the road, love.” He states cooly, completely unmoving.

“Just- watch where you’re going, okay?.” You scoff, tidying your blazer before you started walking away.

“Right back at you, sweetheart.” The biker mumbles, but you hear him loud and clear. You toss an annoyed look over your shoulder, and he revs away after eying you up and down.

/

The second time you met was on your way home at a bus stop on campus. You were waiting on the sidewalk, which just so happened to be next to a set of lights.

Lucky you, looking up from your phone at just the right time to stare right at the black helmet of the man on the motorcycle, stopped at a red, looking right back at you.

The begrudgingly hot guy from before. Of course. You struggle to not roll your eyes.

“‘Thought you profs made at least ‘nough to ‘fford a car.” He yells a bit over the sounds of traffic.

This time you really do roll them.

“I’m not far from here, I don’t need a car.” You state, going to look back at your phone.

He takes off his helmet and suddenly his voice is so much clearer.

“‘Then lemme take you home.”

Your head shoots up and you’re met with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen with the prettiest eyes. And naturally, he’s smirking. You can tell he likes the effect he so clearly has on you. It’s ridiculous that you’re reduced to a nervous mess just like that.

“Wha-?” You start, but he quickly hurries you.

“Well come on then, we gotta go.” He tilts his head back to the traffic waiting behind him as the light turns green.

You don’t even think twice, just hop on the back of this man’s bike, holding against him so tight with your legs wrapped around him. You can smell him, he’s so warm and firm under your touch, you wonder what he would feel like without all his layers. It sends shivers down your back and makes your thighs clench at the thought.

“I felt that.” He chuckles a bit and you can feel a deep blush setting in.

“Hold on,” he quickly outs his helmet but on and revs off. The quick motion forces you to grip him tighter, a small yelp leaving your lips.

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, why the heck did you do this, you don’t even know this man! He could be a serial killer for all you knew and here you are rubbing up against him for crying out loud.

“Hey, you gotta focus, love. Gotta tell me where to go.” He yells over the wind, his hand coming to rest on one of your own to help get your attention. You hesitate to respond and he picks up on it rather quickly, slowing down a bit so you can hear him.

“‘Names’ Simon Riley,” he starts. “I work with the army on the base just outside of town, I drive around to clear m’head.”

He hesitates briefly before finishing.

“I’ve never done anything like this before. Just liked you when I saw you in the rain.” Simon finishes and you’re feeling that warm stir in your chest. It was clear he was trying to make you feel more comfortable, more at ease. It was sweet and for you, it went a long way. You tightened your grip on him, almost as if you were hugging him as a thank you.

“More like when you almost hit me.” You quip back and Simon laughs again, the vibrations coursing through you.

You tell him your name, what you teach and finally the directions to your place. You two laugh about it being in the complete other direction he’s been driving, but Simon just smiles about it. He finds you oddly charming, you’re incredibly intriguing to him, endearing already just from a few exchanged sentences.

Then he says something about how he gets to spend more time with you this way. It makes you bite back a smile and blush, you’re just glad he can’t turn around and see it right now.

When you arrive at your place, a part of you hesitates to get off of his bike, you don’t quite want to leave his presence yet. He feels too good, smells too good, a perfect little moment, a rush of excitement. Simon feels it too, that’s why he helps you off his bike, reaching out for you to take his hand. Any excuse to touch you after all, he doesn’t wanna let go either.

His hand in yours feels so good, something so simple and minimal, but he can’t help but want more. Still, he’s a gentleman, he won’t overstep and scare you off. You’re too much of a catch in his eyes to get ahead of himself.

Once you’re settled back onto the pavement, you hesitate to let go, fingers brushing his hand before you reluctantly let go. You smile at the ground, desperately trying to compose yourself, and he does the same, removing his helmet and fiddling with it.

“Can I-“

“Would you-“

You both start at the same time, laughing it off. You look back into his eyes and it takes everything in him not to look away in embarrassment. You’re just too pretty for him, he’d stare for hours otherwise.

“Simon,” you start sincerely. “Would you like to go and get dinner sometime?” Playing with your fingers nervously. Your heart was in your throat, you don’t usually do anything like this ever and-

“Pick you up tomorrow at 6? I’ll bring my spare helmet for ya next time.”

You nod as controlled as you can, not wanting to seem too too eager…

(Simon doesn’t have a spare helmet, he’s actually gonna go out and buy one tonight just for you, but you don’t need to know that yet.)

You go to tuck a stray hair behind your ear but miss, it falling back in your face. He notices and steps forward to tuck it for you. Again, any excuse to touch you. It’s nice to be this close to Simon again, you can smell him and it makes you feel dizzy.

“I’d love that.” You reply and he holds your cheek for a brief second, then he lets go. The smallest gesture from him already getting you to clench your thighs again.

You’re fucking hooped.

Simon boldly comes forward once more to whisper in your ear-

“Saw that, princess.”

He kisses your cheek softly, then moves to put his helmet back on and starts his bike back up.

“See you tomorrow then.”

And just like that, he’s gone. Leaving you alone on the street, a blushing mess. Left with an ache to see him again already and a wetness between your thighs.

No, you’re fucking fucked.

[brynn-lear]

🍵 𝒲𝐻𝒪𝒟ℛ𝒜𝒩𝒦𝐼𝒯? ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚: A Yandere!H:SR x Reader Otome Game

this is a repost because tumblr won't show up the original in the tags ;;-;;

✧ romanceable characters (© hoyoverse): Professor Veritas Ratio, "Your friend" Kakavasha, and "Gallagher" [for now]

✧ content warning: yandere themes, mentions of racial/species discrimination (your character is SEA/Filipino-coded), (y/n) uses they/them, the story takes place in a modern hybrid alternate universe where each planet (Belobog, Penacony, etc) is considered a country.

PLAY THE DEMO HERE (available for download on PC & Mac AND online play for any devices, though download is preferable to avoid pixellated graphics & misaligned textboxes)

You (name changeable) are a hardworking and full-pledged human cafe owner in Penacony City. Your Dreamjolt Cafe has been a go-to for residents and tourists alike. But your loved ones' lives took a sharp turn for the worst when you decided to take a much-needed vacation back to your homeland, Perlas. While your family eagerly awaited your arrival, you disappeared en route. Where did you go? How did this happen? Who did this? Was it...

☕ the prickly yet fascinating Prof. Veritas Ratio, your self-proclaimed avian-hybrid regular,

☕Kakavasha, your longest fellow human friend who always seems to have a secret or two;

☕ or Gallagher, your hound-hybrid roommate whose past is as peculiar as his loyalty?

☕ or are there two more you're forgetting?

... so...

𝒲𝐻𝒪 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉?

Please support this game by reblogging the post & sending asks/comments! I put a lot of time and effort writing, drawing, and learning to code for this. Thank you so much, my beloved yandere!H:SR community and of course, @dreamjolt-hostelry, for being supportive friends!!! - @beloved-brynn

✧ Characters, Background Art and UI Credits

Hoyoverse assets sourced from the-astral-express-archive. I just tweaked em a bit!

Canva freestock images... Haha...

✧ Intro video, sprites & CG art Credits

Me!!! Hi <3 I hope you enjoyed them! I can't believe yall made me learn adobe after effects a bit for this-

✧ Music Credits

The main menu theme (the first song upon booting the game) is made by @naraven!

The rest of the royalty free music soundtrack (such as the music used for the video above) is sourced from Vodovoz Music Productions!!! Please show the creator some love!!! I was actually vibing so hard while listening to them lmao

✧ (Fan)Story

lol hi again!!! man. i feel like Argenti.

If you wish to support my work and want to see more of this in the future, please buy me a coffee! So I can at least prove to my parents that my work is at least worth one dollar ;;;;

[thatgenericwriter]

I'm Eepy || Gregory House

Paring: Dr. Gregory House x fem! reader

Summary: House and the reader have a 4 year old child that definitely takes after her father

Warnings: Children, House, Swearing

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You took your eyes away from your kid for 10 seconds. 10 fucking seconds! And when you turned around she was no longer playing with her monster trucks by the nurse's station. You immediately start to panic, frantically searching the entire floor you're on.

Normally you wouldn't be this panic, she runs off all the time, except the last time she wandered off in the hospital she got into the drawers of a patient's room and almost took an entire bottle of pills thinking they were candy.

You collect House's fellows and make them split into teams, sending them to scour the different floors in search of your daughter. By this point, you're on the verge of a panic attack. Your daughter is missing in a giant hospital with so many ways of hurting herself, or getting kidnapped, or just leaving on her own, or---

Your hysterical train of thought is interrupted when you hear your name called out from behind you. Whipping around you find that the source of voice is none other than House. You practically sprint towards him throwing yourself into his arms.

"She's missing and I can't find her and I have everyone looking for her and she's gone and I'm an awful mother and I should have never let her out of my site and how could I---."

"Calm down!" House pushes you back slightly and leans down to be face-to-face with you. "I know where she is."

You look into his eyes before punching him in the shoulder. "Why the FUCK did you not tell me that in the first place!"

"Well I was going to but then someone got all weepy and pathetic so I didn't get the chance."

You roll your eyes at him and scoff, but then you lean back in for another hug. You feel him run his hand along your back soothingly before pulling away and turning towards the elevator.

"Come on I have Thirteen and Kutner watching her right now, but I'm not sure how long they can last around her before their feeling are hurt so bad they cast her out of my office."

You grab his hand and walk to the elevator while picturing your daughter making fun of Thirteen and Kutner. She definitely took after her father in the 'making others feel like trash for fun' category. Something you were trying to teach out of her, but someone keeps teaching her more and more curse words.

As the elevator doors open you let go of House's hand and run to his office. You throw the door open and look around for your daughter. All of the fellows have gathered at the table and give you sushing gestures before pointing behind you.

You turn around to find your daughter lounged in House's yellow chair, her eyes fighting to stay open. You quietly walk through the connecting door and crouch by your daughter's head.

"Hey pretty girl," you stroke her hair lovingly, "you know you can't run off like that. Mommy was so scared. You don't want to scare me do you?"

She groggily shakes her head no before letting out a yawn. "I'm sorry Mommy, but I'm soooooo eepy."

You shake your head with a small smile before kissing your daughter's head lightly and watch as her eyes finally close. Standing up you turn and look through the glass to see House standing there looking at you and your daughter with the most content look you've ever seen on his face.

Turning off the lights and closing the blinds you give one last look at your daughter before walking through the conjoing door and into House's awaiting arms.

"Get a room you two!" Everyone whips their head around to Chase with a furious look on their face.

"Shhhhhhhhh!"

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Author's note: i did not prof read this so if it sucks don't tell me... also I'm going to write more I swear! plz be patient with me as I get through requests!!

[kayewrite]

the blue sticky note

(final chapter)

straykids x reader!! OT8 x reader!! skz x reader!! word count: 6.1K

bsn ending wherein; because of that blue sticky note you eventually found the answer of what you really want. keeping them all.

warning: lots of kissing!!

(an; this was finally finished and i promised i loved anything about this story. please read it!!!) an2: sorry for slow updates if i literally can kick my profs for sending piles of 'to do's ill do it TT

part 1 and part 2

you already knew who you wanted to choose. But the thought of hurting the others, of breaking the delicate balance between you all, was too much to bear.

Or maybe… you don’t have to choose at all?

Could you love them all? Is that even possible?

You wanted to be selfish—keep everyone for yourself. But was that really an option?

You mulled over the thought, the weight of it sinking in. No matter how much you cared for them, you couldn't afford to lose these friendships. You loved them all too much. But how could you tell them that?

After that night, you stayed up thinking—thinking until you found an answer.

You wouldn’t risk this bond. You’d keep the friendship intact.

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your university uniform. Your reflection felt unfamiliar, as if the confident facade you were building couldn’t quite cover the turmoil inside. Grabbing a scrunchie, you held it between your lips while bundling your hair into a neat ponytail. The makeup you applied was more like armor—a thin mask meant to conceal the emotional mess swirling beneath the surface.

Everything had to seem normal.

With a steadying breath, you left your apartment and pressed the elevator button. Moments later, the doors slid open, revealing Felix standing there with a soft, familiar smile that never failed to send a flutter through your chest.

“Morning,” he greeted, his voice carrying that warm tone that always seemed to break through your defenses. His gaze swept over you, a teasing sparkle dancing in his eyes.

Heat rose to your cheeks, your heart skipping at the way he looked at you. You stepped into the elevator, already feeling the pressure of his presence beside you.

“You look beautiful,” Felix murmured, his voice lower now, as his eyes lingered on your face for a beat too long.

Your breath caught in your throat. You turned your head quickly, trying to hide the color spreading across your cheeks. His words, though simple, held more weight than usual, and your pulse raced as you tried to maintain composure.

“Thanks,” you whispered, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips.

Felix chuckled softly, the sound causing a shiver to run down your spine. Leaning casually against the wall, his eyes never left you. The space between you felt smaller than it was, the air thick with an unspoken energy. Before you could process it, you found yourself backed into the corner, Felix close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. But you didn’t push him away. You couldn’t.

His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and instinctively, you bit your lower lip, a nervous habit you couldn’t quite suppress. The tension was palpable, a current running between the two of you, pulling you closer without either of you making a move.

Just as he leaned in, the elevator dinged softly, the doors sliding open to reveal a mother and her child. You jumped back, lightly pushing Felix aside as your heart raced. The interruption was abrupt, jolting you out of the moment.

Felix let out a quiet laugh, clearly amused by how flustered you were, while you pretended nothing had happened, your eyes glued to the elevator floor.

Once you reached the lobby, you walked side by side, though the awkwardness was all yours. Felix seemed entirely unfazed, his lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

“I should get to class now,” you said, breaking the silence, though your feet felt rooted in place.

“If my car wasn’t still in the shop, I’d drive you,” Felix replied with a casual shrug, though the faint hint of disappointment in his voice didn’t escape you.

“It’s fine,” you responded, waving it off as if it didn’t matter. But neither of you moved.

For a moment, Felix’s eyes softened, searching yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip. He leaned in, his face so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin. Without thinking, you rose onto your tiptoes, as if your bodies were drawn together by some invisible force.

And then, with no hesitation, Felix kissed you.

It was soft at first, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters. You froze for a second, surprised by how sudden it all was. But as his lips moved against yours, warm and gentle, you found yourself melting into him. Your arms wrapped around his neck instinctively, deepening the kiss. Time seemed to slow, everything else fading into the background.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the feeling of Felix’s lips on yours.

--

You were still a little breathless as you waited at the bus stop. You replayed the kiss in your mind, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. But before you could dwell on it too long, a car pulled up in front of you.

At first, you didn’t pay it any attention, thinking it was just another passerby. But then the window rolled down, revealing Changbin behind the wheel.

“Need a ride to school?” he asked with a grin.

You blinked, surprised but pleased. “Changbin! Is this a new car?” you asked, rushing over.

He nodded shyly. “Yeah, birthday gift.”

You opened the passenger door, sliding in. “Wow, I’m the first one to ride in it?”

Changbin chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yep. You’re the lucky one.”

The seat still had the plastic covers on, making you laugh. “Damn, Changbin, you’re living the life!”

He just shook his head, smiling as he pulled the car out of the stop and onto the road.

Throughout the ride, you chatted about light things, avoiding any mention of the party or anything that might feel too personal. Changbin seemed just as relieved to keep the conversation easygoing.

“I was thinking,” you said, your eyes on the road ahead, “we should have our monthly friendship night at Jeongin’s place again.”

Changbin glanced at you, clearly surprised. After everything that had happened, he thought you might want to pull away from the group. But here you were, suggesting you all hang out like old times.

“Really?” he asked, his voice careful.

“Yeah, why not? We can watch a horror movie, order some food, and crash there like always,” you said with a lightness in your tone.

Changbin smiled, a wave of relief washing over him. He had been worried that things would never be the same after the confessions, but maybe… maybe things could go back to normal after all.

“We could do it at my place too,” Changbin offered casually.

You raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you have a place?”

“Birthday gift,” he said, shrugging again.

You stared at him wide-eyed. “Changbin, how does it feel to be rich?”

He burst out laughing. “Trust me, it’s not that glamorous. But you should come by and check it out sometime.”

“Absolutely,” you grinned, feeling lighter.

When you arrived at the university, you hopped out of the car before Changbin could even offer to open the door for you. He sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. He wanted to treat you like a princess—he wanted to spoil you, take care of you. But you always beat him to it, never letting him pamper you the way he wanted.

He caught up to you, taking your handbag without a word. You didn’t protest, just smiled softly, falling in step beside him as you both walked toward the building.

--

Hyunjin was expecting to see you hiding out again from your PE class when he spotted you lying on the clinic bed. The sight of you made him smile, a smile you quickly returned. He thought that after not replying to any of his messages, you needed some space. But seeing you now, it was a relief. He was happy to see you.

“Hi,” you greeted with a small wave.

“Hello,” Hyunjin replied, still smiling, his hands finding their way into the pockets of his white coat.

“I need medicine,” you said dramatically, flopping back onto the bed with exaggerated exhaustion.

Hyunjin almost stopped breathing at the sight of you. He didn’t know why, but after everything that had happened recently, you looked extra attractive to him right now, even while lying there dramatically.

“What kind of medicine?” he asked, raising a curious brow.

“Is there a cure for my cuteness?” you teased, striking a cute pose before bursting into laughter.

Hyunjin chuckled, shaking his head at your antics. “After finding out everyone likes you, you're really leaning into it, huh?” he teased back, crossing his arms.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I don’t even know what you guys see in me. Did I flirt with you all or something?”

Hyunjin sat on the stool beside the bed, his expression softening. “No, you were just being yourself. That’s probably the reason why.”

You pointed at yourself in disbelief. “So, I’m a flirt now?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re not. You're just... you. And maybe that’s why people find you attractive, even if you don’t realize it.”

You smirked, snapping your fingers. “So, you fell in love with me because of my blood, huh? I knew it. My bodily fluids are magical,” you joked with a playful glint in your eyes.

Hyunjin laughed loudly, the sound filling the clinic. You never failed to make him laugh.

“Well, since you’re asking...” he leaned back, crossing his legs, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “I think it’s definitely because of your blood.” He burst into laughter again.

It felt good, having a conversation like this. It was easy, light, like nothing had changed between the two of you, despite everything.

“You’re a vampire,” you rolled your eyes dramatically.

“Just kidding,” he grinned. “But honestly, have you seen yourself? You should never be my type, but for some reason, here we are.”

“Did my love potion finally work?” you wondered aloud, pretending to be deep in thought.

“I knew it! You must’ve slipped something into my coffee when you made it for me that one time,” Hyunjin teased, laughing.

“Oh no, I’ve been exposed,” you giggled, sharing a playful look with him.

The laughter continued, eventually fading into a comfortable silenece. Hyunjin looked at you with genuine admiration, his eyes softening. “Really. You don’t know how precious you are to me,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

His words caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks flush under his sincere gaze. It wasn’t like Hyunjin to get this serious, but the way he said it, you knew he meant every word.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly, trying to hide the blush spreading across your face. You weren’t used to him being so direct about his feelings.

“I don’t know, but I feel like I should take better care of myself because of you guys,” you said with a light laugh.

“We will take care of you then,” Hyunjin said with a warm smile.

You both smiled at each other, the connection between you palpable.

“If you become a doctor in the future, you better give me lifetime free hospital fees,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood again.

Hyunjin let out a hearty laugh, the sound filling the room once more. “Of course! How could I charge my favorite patient? I’ll make sure you never pay a single cent,” he grinned, his hand reaching out to ruffle your hair affectionately.

“You know,” Hyunjin said, breaking the silence again, “if I ever do become a doctor, I’d be happy to take care of you. But not because I want to treat you.” His voice dropped slightly, more serious now. “It’s because… you make everything better … “

You blinked at him, caught off guard again by his sudden sincerity.

“Well, I hope you never have to treat me, because that would mean I’m in the hospital,” you joked, trying to hide how his words affected you.

--

“I missed you, my daughter!” you exclaimed the moment you saw the familiar white fur of Minho’s cat approaching. Without a second thought, you rushed to scoop her up in your arms. As expected, the cat was unimpressed, immediately swatting at you, but it didn’t stop you from showering her with affection.

“And I missed you, too, Mommy,” Minho suddenly appeared in front of you, mimicking a high-pitched voice like he was a cat.

You put the cat down, who quickly escaped your grasp, and turned to Minho. He was looking at you with a soft, almost relieved smile.

Minho had thought you’d be upset with him after the way he acted at the party. But seeing you act like everything was okay—it made him breathe easier. But... was this just you pretending again? He couldn’t tell.

Then, you walked up to him and greeted him with a quick peck on the lips.

A peck?

On his lips?

Minho froze.

You acted like it was nothing, like you didn’t just leave him stunned in place. “Where are your other cats?” you asked casually, looking around his apartment.

It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch his lips. “Uh, they’re at my mother’s place,” he stammered.

You laughed lightly, brushing past him as you continued into his apartment, leaving Minho standing there, completely dumbfounded.

What just happened?

He turned and watched you head into the kitchen, still trying to wrap his head around the kiss.

“Uh, do you want something to eat? Drink?” he asked, following you in, his voice a bit shaky.

"I came for your cooking, Minho. That's why I'm here," you said with a laugh.

Minho blinked, his brain finally catching up. Right, you had messaged him earlier, saying you wanted noodles and that you were thinking about him. That important detail had completely slipped his mind after the unexpected kiss.

“Yes, of course. For you, I’ll make it,” he said, still feeling a bit off balance.

“Thank you, Minho. I love you,” you smirked at him and then left the kitchen, calling for your 'daughter' again.

Minho froze once more.

What just happened?

Minho was usually the one to fluster you, the one to make you speechless. But now...

He shook his head, smiling to himself. Did you finally acknowledge his feelings for you?

With that thought lingering in his mind, he began preparing the most delicious noodles for you.

“I love it so much!” you exclaimed as you finished your bowl of noodles, setting it down with a satisfied sigh. Minho sat across from you, resting his head in his palm, watching you intently with a soft smile. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time.

You tried to ignore the warmth in your chest. “Now,” he started, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, “can you explain to me why you kissed me earlier?”

You expected to blush and look away in embarrassment, but instead, you met his gaze and smiled knowingly. “I think friends kiss.”

“Do they now?” Minho chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup,” you said confidently, crossing your arms.

“Well, if that’s the case, then I have to say, your kiss wasn’t nearly enough,” Minho laughed, leaning forward as he pulled you into another kiss.

This time, you smiled against his lips, not pulling away.

--

Han wasn’t in the library today, which was a rare occurrence. Instead, you found him sitting under the narra tree in the field, the afternoon sun casting a soft glow around him. He spotted you before you even had the chance to call out, waving excitedly.

"Hey! Over here!" Jisung called, his smile so wide that his cheeks puffed up in that adorable way that made you want to pinch them.

You walked over, and he patted the spot beside him on the grass. As you sat down, he immediately draped his jacket over your lap, ever the gentleman. You smiled at the gesture and the way his grin seemed to make the world a little brighter.

"You’re done with the library already?" you asked, settling next to him.

Jisung let out a small sigh and nodded. "Yep. Done as in done with it for good."

You blinked, processing his words. "Wait, what? You quit?"

He nodded again, his smile soft, almost bittersweet. "Yeah. I realized I was just using the job to keep myself busy."

You placed a comforting hand on his back, stroking it gently before moving to his hair. "You did well, Jisungie," you murmured, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "I’m proud of you for doing your best."

He beamed at your words, a little of that sadness easing away. "Thanks… And, well, I think I’m going to take music as my major too."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That’s amazing! I always thought you were destined for something like that."

He chuckled, glancing off into the distance. "Yeah. I guess I finally realized I love producing music, like Chan hyung."

Pride welled up inside you, and you threw your arms around him, squeezing him tightly. "Jisung, this is huge! You finally found what you love."

He hugged you back just as tightly. "Thank you. You were a big part of it, you know."

You pulled away, shaking your head with a smile. "No, you did this on your own. I just cheered you on."

He looked at you with that soft sincerity that always seemed to catch you off guard. "You were always my inspiration."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "So, if something goes wrong, you’re gonna blame me?"

Jisung let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Of course not! You’ve always been right for me."

The honesty in his words made your heart swell. You couldn’t help but tease him. "Really? Well, it’s an honor then."

"Why are you always playful in moments like this?" he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Because I love seeing you happy," you said, your tone softening.

Jisung smiled, his eyes holding a warmth that melted you inside. "You just existing makes me happy."

You knew Jisung wasn’t always one to express his emotions openly, especially in your friend group, but seeing this side of him—this vulnerable, open side—made you cherish him even more. Without a word, you pulled him into another hug, this one filled with all the love and gratitude you had for him and the others.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you guys," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "You’ve all made my life so much brighter."

Jisung squeezed you tighter. "No. We should be saying that to you."

--

When you entered your classroom, the first thing that caught your attention was Seungmin’s new haircut. You couldn’t help but stare—it suited him so well, better than you imagined. His previous blonde hair had its charm, but this short black look was on a whole other level.

“Seungmin, you look amazing,” you blurted out, unable to hide your admiration.

He smiled at you, running a hand through his hair, clearly enjoying the compliment. His messy locks only added to the effect, and you found yourself thinking how attractive he looked.

“I love your haircut, Seungmin!” Yuji suddenly appeared, throwing in her own compliment.

A surge of possessiveness hit you—an unfamiliar feeling, but one you couldn’t deny. You had wanted to keep Seungmin to yourself after that night, after he had told you how much he wanted to be by your side.

Without thinking, you grabbed his hand. “Let me borrow him for a bit,” you said to Yuji, your voice light but your grip firm as you pulled him away.

Seungmin didn’t protest, his eyes curious but amused as you led him to a quieter corner.

Once there, you pushed him against the wall, your heart racing. “You’re too hot, Seungmin,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his before you kissed him deeply.

Seungmin froze, shocked by your boldness, but it didn’t take long for him to kiss you back, his hands wrapping around your waist. By the time you pulled away, you were both panting, cheeks flushed.

“Wow,” Seungmin breathed out, his lips still slightly parted.

You covered your face in embarrassment, realizing what you had just done. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I did that.”

Seungmin laughed softly, pulling your hands away from your face. “Don’t be. I loved it.”

You giggled, pushing him lightly when he tried to lean in again. “This is all your fault.”

“If I had known this was my reward, I would have gotten a haircut sooner,” he teased.

“You should’ve,” you said with a playful grin, and the two of you laughed together, the tension easing between you.

--

You were adjusting the guitar strings in your hands, making sure it was in tune as Jeongin sat across from you, watching silently. He was a year younger than you, but sometimes you felt like he was much more mature.

Once you were satisfied, you strummed a few chords, then glanced up at him with a smile. Without saying anything, you started playing IU’s “Blueming,” your voice filling the music room with a soft, sweet melody.

Jeongin’s eyes never left you as you played. You had always admired his voice, and he would often sing for you. But this was the first time you had picked up a guitar and sang for him.

As you finished the song, Jeongin clapped, his eyes shining with admiration. “You don’t know how beautiful you are right now,” he said softly, his voice sincere.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Really? Then call me noona,” you teased.

Normally, he would cringe at the thought, but seeing you laugh made him smile. “Really? You want me to be your brother? Is that final?” he challenged.

“Will you let me?” you countered, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“Then I won’t either,” you chuckled.

Jeongin carefully took the guitar from your hands, strumming a melody you didn’t immediately recognize. But when he started singing the first lyrics, your eyes lit up. It was DAY6’s “Beautiful Feeling.”

His voice was soft, warm, as he sang the first line, and you couldn’t help but harmonize with him.

As the song continued, you exchanged glances, singing together, your voices blending perfectly.

“This song right now,” Jeongin sang softly, his eyes locked on yours, “might just sound like another love song...”

You smiled, your heart feeling light as you harmonized, “But this beautiful feeling... it’s beautiful.”

Jeongin’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. He stopped strumming, leaning in slowly, hesitating.

You could feel the tension, the uncertainty, but you didn’t wait for him to decide. Instead, you closed the gap, pulling him into a kiss.

And, as Jeongin had sung, it truly was a beautiful feeling.

--

Later that evening, you were lounging in bed when your phone rang. Chan’s name popped up on the screen.

"Hey," you answered, still laying down. "What’s up?"

"I’m picking you up. We’re going somewhere," Chan’s voice came through the line, teasingly mysterious.

You immediately shot up, excitement bubbling in your chest. "Wait, where are we going?"

"Somewhere special," he said, laughter in his voice.

"Are you on your way already?" you asked, scrambling out of bed.

"No rush. I’m stuck in traffic, so you’ve got time to get ready."

You groaned dramatically. "Chan, it takes me an hour to get ready!"

He chuckled on the other end. "I know. So wear something pretty. You’ll like where we’re going."

"Pretty, pretty?" you clarified, excitement buzzing through your veins.

"Yes, pretty pretty."

You hung up immediately, throwing yourself into getting ready as quickly as possible.

By the time you were done, Chan was already waiting downstairs—well, according to him, you finished in record time, but you knew he had been waiting for at least fifteen minutes. When you stepped outside, his eyes lit up.

"Wow," he breathed, taking your hand and spinning you around. "You look gorgeous."

You laughed, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "You don’t look too bad yourself."

Like a true gentleman, he opened the passenger door for you and even placed his hand over your head to protect you as you got in. The simple gesture made your heart flutter.

As he settled into the driver’s seat, you couldn’t help but ask, "Are we going on a date?"

"Yes," he said, glancing at you with a grin. "Right after I pick up my award."

You blinked in confusion. "Wait, what? What award?"

"My work got recognized," he said nonchalantly, his eyes shining with happiness.

Your heart burst with pride. "Bang Chan! Oh my God!" you squealed, fanning yourself dramatically. “ I’m so proud of you!"

He laughed at your over-the-top reaction, but you could tell he was touched.

You spent the rest of the evening at the event, watching Chan accept his award with a wide smile on your face, your phone in hand as you filmed every second. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, too proud to hold back the emotions.

--

That night finally arrived. It was time for your monthly hangout with your friends, and despite what you had said about it being awkward seeing them together again, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement.

Jisung came to pick you up, and you were dressed in your comfy pajamas since it was a sleepover.

“Aww, you’re so cute,” Jisung teased, pinching your cheek as you got in the car.

You laughed. “I’m literally just wearing pajamas, and you think that’s cute?”

“You’re cute in whatever you do,” he replied with a smirk.

You both headed to the nearest convenience store to grab snacks and drinks, along with a couple of games like Uno cards and a board game.

“Tell them we should watch the scariest movie ever made tonight,” you joked as you threw some chips into the basket.

“And you think I’ll support that when I absolutely don’t want to?” Jisung gave you a pointed look, hands on the steering wheel as he drove.

“I’m kidding, I don’t want that either!” You laughed along with him, the idea of watching a horror movie giving you chills.

Suddenly, your phone rang. It was Changbin.

“Where are you guys? We’re watching the scariest movie mankind has ever made,” he announced, causing you and Jisung to swallow nervously and laugh at the coincidence, you really indeed close friends that you can send telepathy.

By the time you arrived at Changbin’s building, you unfastened your seatbelt, ready to hop out, but Jisung gently stopped you by placing a hand on your arm. You looked at him, curious.

“Uhm…” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, struggling to find the right words. “Uhm, can I… can I kiss you before we go in?”

You were confused at first, but then a smile crept up on your face, amused by how shy and adorable he was.

“Of course, Jisung. My Jisung,” you said softly, pinching his cheek before leaning in. “Come here.”

The kiss was innocent, soft, and a little sloppy as you both tried to find your rhythm. When you were both nearly out of breath, you pulled away.

“I think that was enough,” Jisung said, flashing you his usual bright smile as he bopped your nose playfully. “Now let’s go!”

Jisung handed you a pillow to carry while he took charge of all the snacks and games. You both made your way to the elevator, laughing as you rode up to Changbin’s floor.

“Let’s be rich like him in the future,” Jisung joked, glancing around at the fancy interior.

You chuckled at the thought. Changbin had already given you the passcode to his apartment, but out of respect, you hadn’t memorized it. Your friends had made sure you never felt pressured to know it, even though everyone else did. It was just one of the little ways they showed how much they cared about your comfort.

As you walked inside, you were taken aback by how spacious the place was. Changbin welcomed both of you with open arms, hugging you tightly.

“Where’s everyone else?” Jisung asked, looking around.

“They’re in the movie room,” Changbin replied casually.

“Oh, there’s a movie room now?” you exclaimed in surprise. Changbin was indeed to humble for telling you his place wasn’t that nice at all.

“Yeah, and they’re waiting for the snacks, even though Minho already cooked fried chicken for everyone.” You both laughed at that.

When you entered the so-called movie room, you were met with a large screen and chairs that made the room feel like a mini-cinema. The rest of the group was bickering and chatting loudly, too absorbed in their conversation to notice your arrival.

Jisung cleared his throat dramatically. “Kids, your snacks have arrived!”

That got everyone’s attention. All eyes turned to you and Jisung as they erupted in cheers.

“My princess is here!” Minho was the first to stand up and approach you, pulling you into a warm hug.

“A princess in pajamas,” you joked as you hugged him back.

Some of the others ran to Jisung, helping him with the snacks, while Seungmin came over to you, lifting you off the ground in a playful spin.

“I’m happy to see you too, Seungmin,” you said, laughing.

Jeongin walked up and kissed your cheek, whispering, “You smell nice.”

You smiled and mumbled a shy, “Thank you.”

As everyone settled in, Hyunjin came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I’m happy you’re here,” he murmured.

You smiled, reaching up to caress his arms. Chan, who was sitting nearby, gave you a warm smile, silently acknowledging your presence. The room was filled with chatter and laughter, the perfect reunion despite everyone’s busy schedules.

The movie started soon after. Jeongin, hands full of popcorn, looked confused. “I thought we were watching the scariest movie mankind has ever made?”

Instead of a scary movie, something boring was playing, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the letdown.

Halfway through the movie, your throat felt dry, so you quietly stood up to get a drink from the kitchen. As you entered, you spotted Changbin there, watching over something.

“You’re not watching with them?” you asked curiously.

“I will, but I’m waiting for the cake to finish baking,” he said with a smile.

You took a sip of water and leaned against the sink. “Cake? What’s the cake for?”

“It’s for Chan. And also, Jisung and Felix’s birthdays are coming up, so I’m baking for them too.”

You felt touched by his thoughtfulness, knowing that their birthdays were on weekdays, and celebrating all together might be difficult. “That’s so sweet of you,” you said softly.

Changbin smiled, then grabbed a bottle of wine. “Want some? The ambiance feels right.”

You chuckled and nodded, letting him pour you a glass. You clinked glasses and took a sip, enjoying the light buzz from the wine.

“So… what’s your plan now?” Changbin asked suddenly, his tone becoming more serious. He always seemed to know what was going on with everyone.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, laughing a little at how uncertain everything had become. “It all started because of that blue sticky note you put in my binder.”

He laughed too. “Yeah, that was probably the cringiest thing I’ve ever done. Love can really make you act like a fool.”

You playfully nudged him. “Don’t call it that! I thought it was cute.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “You think it was cute?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, in that case, I’m willing to do it again, even if Minho calls me a soft boy,” he joked, laughing at the thought.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, the kind that didn’t feel awkward at all. You sipped your wine, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.

“Chan said you won’t pick any of us,” Changbin said quietly, staring into his glass.

You exhaled softly, the weight of that decision settling over you. “Yeah… I can’t do it,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I can’t afford to lose any of you… because… I love you.”

Changbin looked up at you, his eyes warm. “We’re all glad for your decision. You deserve to be showered with love, and we’re willing to give that to you. You deserve everything.”

His words hit you straight in the heart, and before you knew it, you were throwing yourself into his arms, kissing him. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just the flood of emotions, but the kiss was hard and desperate. Changbin nearly stumbled, but he held onto your waist for support, his legs barely holding him up as your lips met.

You were literally making him weak.

You were lost in your own worlds when a soft cough broke the silence.

"Ehem, excuse me, just getting some water." It was Hyunjin. His voice pulled you back to the present, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"Let's get back to the movie." You smoothed out Changbin's shirt with a light touch before stepping out of his hold.

Returning to the room, you made your way to Felix, who was snuggled up with his yellow chicken plushie. He put his arms around you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as you leaned into him. Together, you settled in to watch the rest of the movie.

As the end credits rolled, the room was dim, the only light coming from the flickering screen. Just then, Changbin reappeared, carrying a cake lit up by glowing candles. The warm glow filled the room, and suddenly, everything felt so much more meaningful.

With a cheeky grin, Changbin began to sing, "Congratulations~~."

Laughter erupted around the room as he made his way toward Chan, who was already giggling, trying to hide his face behind his hands. Everyone jumped to their feet, clapping, the energy light and joyful as you all joined in, voices harmonizing.

"Congratulations! You're one step closer to achieving your dreams!" Felix's voice was filled with pride, and he hugged Chan from behind, holding him tight. His smile was radiant, and for a moment, it felt like time stood still, the warmth of Felix’s embrace matching the love in his words.

"I'm so proud of our leader," Hyunjin said, wiping at his eyes dramatically, but the emotion behind it was real. He threw his arm around your shoulders, his presence comforting and grounding.

Jeongin's teasing voice broke the moment. "If you become a famous producer, make me famous too!"

Laughter bubbled up again, the teasing only masking the genuine admiration everyone felt for Chan.

"And if you get famous, buy me a car," Seungmin added with a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jisung, grinning ear to ear, chimed in. "If he becomes famous, I don’t need to study music anymore! I’ll get hired on the spott."

Minho’s voice cut through the banter, his tone playful yet affectionate. "He’ll finally release our song ‘Blue Sticky Notes.’ I know it’s cringey, but I love that song."

The laughter was uncontrollable now, everyone caught up in the warmth and joy of the moment. But beneath it all, there was a deep sense of connection. These people—these friends—were your family. You weren’t just sharing jokes and cake; you were sharing dreams, memories, and a love that ran deeper than words.

As the laughter slowly died down, the reality of the moment settled in. These weren’t just fleeting interactions—these were the moments that defined everything. The kind of moments you’d hold onto when things got hard, the moments you’d replay in your mind when you needed to remember why you kept going.

You looked around at each of them—Chan, with his eyes shining with happiness; Felix and Changbin, with their quiet warmth; Hyunjin, full of life; Minho, teasing but sincere; Jeongin and Seungmin, both laughing freely; and Jisung, always ready with a joke. They all meant so much to you.

Moments like these were your favorite—the ones where the world felt right, where nothing else mattered but the people you were with. You wouldn’t trade this for anything, not the laughter, not the closeness, not the unspoken love that filled the air.

You'd hold these memories close, treasure them with all your heart. And you knew, as long as you had them, you’d always have a piece of happiness to carry with you.

You’d write it all down—on your blue sticky note—a reminder that in the simplest moments, surrounded by the people you loved, life felt perfect. Full of love, joy, and endless gratitude.

--

masterlist

happy birthday, jisungie and felixseu!

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Take Care of You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Threatening to Get Someone Fired, Reader being sick

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Y/N can barely stand but it doesn't stop her from trying to go to class, so Rafe steps up and goes for her.

A/N: This is like a prequel to Let Me Handle It, Angel, but you can read it by itself or in any order.

Masterlist

Her nose shouldn’t be so stuffy with the amount of liquid dripping down from it right now. The tickle in the back of her throat that won’t go away no matter how many cough drops or tea she drinks is driving her crazy. To top it all off, she is constantly going between being hot and cold, which causes her to turn dizzy as she is taking Rafe’s sweater on and off. She blows her nose again to alleviate some of the build-up, but she still can’t breathe. 

Meanwhile, Rafe is in the kitchen getting her lunch ready. He hopes his mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup has enough broth to counterbalance the too much salt he accidentally put in. The butter bread he lays on the tray is to give her a little more substance and he is about to pour her some freshly squeezed orange juice into her favourite mug. He goes to get the juice to find his frat brother, Topper, about to pour the last of the juice into his own cup. The death glare Rafe sends his best friend stops the other boy. Rafe grabs the glass jug from the boy and pours it into her mug. He brings the tray of food upstairs to find her trying to change into some leggings. She got dizzy trying to put them on standing up so now, she is rolling around his bedroom floor trying to yank her pants up her bloated lower body. Rafe sighs at the sight of her and places the tray on his desk. 

“Stop, please. Let me take care of you, Angel. Please,” he begs, taking off the leggings and putting his sweatpants back on for her. She resists a little, not because she is uncomfortable with his help but because she wants the leggings on, “No, Rafe. I have to go to class. I need to put some clothes on.” He shakes her head at her begging. “No, angel. You can barely stand up, let alone go to class. Please, sit back down and eat something,” he orders, guiding her to sit up against his headboard so she can eat. She refuses, “I have class, Rafe. I need to go. This prof takes attendance for a mark.” “Well, then I’ll go for you. I’ll record the lecture and even take notes for you, angel. Just please, stay here and get some rest,” he offers, starting to get changed into some clothes to head to her class. 

“Rafe, that would never work. The professor knows what I look like and that I’m a girl.”

“Don’t worry about it, my sweet angel. I’ll take care of it. Now, I expect to see all of that food gone by the time I get back, understand?”

——

Rafe sits at the back of the lecture hall with different coloured pens and a pencil before him. He writes the date in her notebook as neatly as possible then switches to a blue pen for the title. One lazy afternoon together, when they first got together, she was studying while he just watched her. He asked her why she liked handwritten notes and why she used different colours. She explained that the handwritten notes are better for her to transcribe when she studies and the different pens help her visualize the notes better. So he is going to try his best to copy her notes how she likes it. 

The clock hits 2 P.M. and Professor Simmons begins the attendance. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he calls out, looking around the front rows for her familiar face. Rafe’s hand darts up, “Present.” The masculine voice causes Professor Simmons to look up from his computer. “You aren’t Ms. Y/L/N,” he questions with an arch brow. 

“No, I am not. But she is currently sick at the moment so I’m filling in. So you can just mark her as here.”

“I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t how this works.”

“Well, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Rafe Cameron. Y/N’s loving boyfriend, but also a Cameron. The same Cameron, whose name is on the business building. One phone call and I can have you fired. Tenure or not. So do we have any problem with me being here for Y/N?”

Rafe holds his phone up about to dial his dad, who would do anything in a heartbeat for Y/N because he thinks she is good for Rafe. The auditorium goes silent as they wait for the professor to answer. Professor Simmons shakes his head and continues on with the list. 

——

The door opening makes Y/N look towards it. Her boyfriend stands at the entrance with a grin on his face and ice cream in his hand. “How did it go?” she barely gets out between coughs, reaching for the pint of ice cream she knows she shouldn’t be eating. Rafe wraps his arm around her and places a kiss on her temple, “Without a problem. How are you feeling, angel?” “That’s good. Thank you for going. And a little better. I haven’t puked since you left,” she tells him, eating another bite of ice cream. He smiles at that fact, “I would do anything for you. I’m so glad you are better. I love you, angel.” 

“I love you too, Rafe.”

[squiddy-god]

"Antique hearts"

Zhongli x reader

Sweet, cute, and domestic fluff with the former geo archon turned charming man. More re-uploads. As usual no beta no prof

♥︎REQUEST ARE OPEN♥︎ don't be shy, send request for any of the fandoms on my fandom list, you can even recommend shows/games if they aren't there. Or even if you just want to chat! Anon is also always open!

────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───────────────

Hesitance was etched along his defined features when you suggested a trip to mondstat, nothing too long, simply a day away from the familiar mountains of liyue. "Are you sure my dear? " He inquired, you nodded smile painted on your face, "it'll just be for a day I promise, there's a place I'd love to take you" 

How could he say no when you gave him such a hopeful expression. He let out a deep sigh, amber eyes closing gently. It was no secret that zhongli was not a fan of mondstat taverns, the oddities that they often served- it simply wasn't his cup of tea. Thankfully you had no intention of taking him somewhere like the cat tail or angel's share, no no, you were planning to take him somewhere you were certain he'd love. "Alright, I suppose a day's visit to the city of wind wouldn't hurt" He agreed, still slightly sceptical. 

Holding his gloved hand in yours you lead the tall man through the stone streets of mondstat. Although the geo Lord stuck out quite a bit in his liyue attire, people still smiled nonetheless. "Dear, where exactly are you taking me? " His inquisitive gaze was locked upon you, the rich hues of his eyes holding a silent plea that it wasn't a tavern. "Well we're almost there! You'll see soon" 

You were indeed right, you soon came to a quaint cafe, a hole in the wall that was almost never packed. 

He took in the sight, a charming sign hung up above and the small chalkboard with a drawn cake and teacup, it gave a calm atmosphere he rather appreciated in a city such as the bustling mondstat. "Wait until you see the inside" You chirped, interlocking your fingers and leading the way. 

The interior was plastered with a warm yellow wallpaper, murals of cities and gardens painted on the walls. It was as if  each wall was a new place, straight from a story book's pages. But truly what caught. His eyes were the antiques. The front room was adorned in cute white shelves stacked with anything from porcelain birds to beautiful oak jewelry boxes. Elegant carvings in the dark wood drew his eyes to inspect them, a shimmer of curiosity lighting his dazzling face. 

You smiled seeing him so happy, the gentle smile he now dawned warmed your heart and you chuckled. The lady at the front desk created you with a warm smile before leading you to a table in the further back of the cafey. Zhongli admired the walls, beautiful flower bushes and charming window shutters tying together in a landscape unfamiliar yet beautiful. 

"This place is quite charming, hmm, even the cloth on the table holds much character, perhaps this place holds interesting stories" He mused holding his chin. He was delighted to learn they had a vast selection of tea, some blends even from liyue harbor, how curious that such a small cafe had such selection. 

His gloved thumb traced the smooth porcelain cup, swirls of gold lining the rim with pale yellow flowers painted on the smooth surface. 

"This is a common shape for tea cups, the design is wider and lends itself to the maximization of surface area" He began, eyes shifting subtlety from the hot liquid to your eyes. You happily listened as he went on, gently placing the cup down on the matching saucer as you intertwined your fingers atop the table. His voice was soothing and calm, the slight rasp lending itself well to his deep vocals. "The reason for this is to focus on the texture and feel of the tea, specifically teas with rich and velvet textures. Hence it is often used to serve black teas such as Sichuan Imperial Gongfu" He finished, a warm smile on his face as he sipped his tea. 

He always loved when you listened to him, he adored how appreciated you made him feel. That twinkle of attentiveness in your eyes as he spoke, yes, he'd make sure to return that love ten fold.

────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───────────────

[little-diable]

There's just something about you – Professor!Austin Butler (smut)

Well well well, ofc I {as somebody who has a massive prof!crush} had to give in and write this. I think this has potential for a part 2, so please tell me how you feel about that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader works as Professor Butler's teaching assistant. The two are about to take a trip with his class when she gets sick. While staying with him for the weekend the two finally give in to the pull keeping them chained together.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), professor x TA relationship, quite fluffy

Pairing: prof!Austin Butler x fem!TA!reader (3k words)

picture credit to the original owner

“Alright, listen up!“ Professor Butler’s voice echoed through the room. His words were followed by instant silence, forcing all eyes towards the handsome professor. She stood close to him, not enough to feel his body heat clashing against her, though just enough to hyperfocus on the scent of his expensive cologne – a scent she’d always pick up on, no matter where she was at.

“As you all know, we’re leaving for our trip next week. (Y/n) was kind enough to take over the bookings, but we need you to find one or two people to share a room with. Please send (y/n) an email til Monday, so we can avoid any confusion when we check in. If you have any further questions about the trip or concerns, feel free to reach out to one of us.”

She had joined the faculty as Professor Butler’s PhD candidate and teaching assistant a while ago, slowly having to adjust to being around a man like him. At first, (y/n) had struggled to focus, fighting against the urge to stare at him at any given chance, but slowly she had gotten more and more relaxed around him, actually getting to enjoy her interactions with the young professor. 

“Please don’t forget your homework, alright? I’ll see you all next week.” The room was filled with loud noises as he ended the class, forcing the students to their feet and out into the hallway. (Y/n) busied herself with his notes, rechecking them before she allowed her gaze to find his bright eyes. “You did good today, (y/n), if you feel comfortable enough you can gladly do next week’s class on your own.” 

“I don’t think I feel ready to do this without you yet.” His big hand found her shoulder, leaving her torn between focusing on the feeling of his thumb softly stroking the fabric of her blouse, and the intense eye contact he now held with her. For a second, neither of them spoke, leaving (y/n) to wonder what he was thinking about. 

“Alright, but you’re by far better than me at catching their attention, I hope one day you’ll realise that.” Professor Butler’s raspy chuckle had an addicting effect to it, leaving her to avert her gaze as he took a step away from her. “Chinese takeout while we grade the essays?” 

……

She woke with a pained whine as her hand reached for her phone, trying to read the time. It was Saturday morning, two days before they’d go on their short trip, but her body was clearly fighting against all plans, making her suffer from a sore throat and a blocked nose. Curses wanted to claw through her, cursing fate for pushing her into her misery. 

(Y/n) had been looking forward to the trip for a while, excited about spending some more time with Professor Butler outside of his office and the room he was teaching in. Secretly she had hoped for some more calmer moments where they could go back to sharing information about one another that had nothing to do with their research or their university work. Hopes that were now evaporating into nothing but cold air. 

For a moment, (y/n) pondered over her choices, but her fingers had already started to move before her mind could protest, opening the email app. With a few quick words she sent her professor a small warning, telling him that she was sick and would most likely not be able to join on Monday. She felt pathetic for the wave of hurt and exhaustion flushing through her, leaving her trembling body to search the warmth of her bed. 

It didn’t take long for her phone to go off, forcing her glassy eyes to read his reply. Simple words told her to give him a call with his added number to the email. Perhaps it was the fault of her cold, perhaps it was the fault of her hazy thoughts, whatever it was, it stopped (y/n) from overthinking, clicking on the number before her anxiety could get the best of her. 

“Morning, (y/n).” His raspy voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily letting her eyes flutter close. She repeated the greeting while internally cringing at the raspy sound of her voice. “Oh sweetheart, you sound horrible.”

Heat rose to her face at the pet name, having to forcefully stop herself from gasping. She could only let go of a hum, not trusting herself to speak coherent words he could easily pick up on. 

“Are you still living alone?” A while ago (y/n) had told him about her struggles to find a roommate, unsure who to pick as she had high priorities she didn’t want to let go of. Once again she hummed, wondering where he was taking this conversation. “Alright, I want you to pack a bag. I’ll pick you up in a few, you’re spending the weekend with me, I can’t go on that trip without you. We’ll get you back to your healthy self in no time.”

“Professor,” she sat up as she tried to protest, having to drown out the sinful thoughts instantly flushing through her mind. “I don’t want to take up any of your space, and you could also get sick. I’ll be alright here, don’t worry.”

“No, you’re staying with me. I won’t accept any protests, (y/n). What’s your address?”

It hadn’t taken long for them to end the call, for her to take a quick shower and to pack a bag. Her heart kept racing in her chest, urging her to move, to be smart about the things she packed. She barely got any time to overthink as he had arrived at her place rather quickly, but now as she was sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, (y/n)’s thoughts finally caught up with her. 

Austin – as he had asked her to call him – was all too gentle with her, tending to her every need with worry tugging on his features. (Y/n) could only guess that she looked as horrible as she felt, tired eyes barely managing to stay open, and yet she didn’t want to miss a thing, cherishing the chance to be so close to him. 

“How about we watch a movie before I make some soup, huh?” Austin plopped down next to her, tugging on her legs to place them in his lap. (Y/n) allowed herself to study him for a few seconds, his blonde hair had that slightly unruly touch to it, blue eyes focusing on his TV. He wore a simple white shirt that perfectly stuck to his muscles, paired with blue jeans that gave him a different touch to the version of him who always wore suits in class. 

“Sure, I’m good with whatever.” He shot her a quick smile that left her trembling, having to calm her racing heart with her grasp on the blanket growing stronger. She barely managed to pay the opening sequence of the movie any attention, getting lost in her thoughts as his thumb stroked the soft skin of her ankle, holding onto her as if he was scared she could slip right through his fingers. 

For the first time in years, she felt an unfamiliar kind of safety wrapping itself around her, clinging to her like a second skin made to protect her, to cherish her, to perhaps even love her. 

……

Quiet steps carried her towards the big kitchen, engulfed in darkness as (y/n) started the kettle, hoping that another cup of tea could finally lull her to sleep. She was too deep in thought to notice his approaching figure, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his naked chest. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” (Y/n) jumped at the sound of his raspy voice, pressing her hand to her chest as she turned towards him. A laugh clawed through Austin, guiding him closer to her with slow steps. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.” 

(Y/n) had to turn from him, trying to focus on the almost boiling water as he came to a halt behind her, reaching for another cup. His naked upper body was pressed against her back, one of his arms found its way around her waist to keep her close to him. Goosebumps covered her limbs, silently whispering to her, guiding her hand to find his. 

No words were spoken between the two as she poured the hot water into the big cups while Austin reached for the teabags. He loosened his hold on her as if he was begging her to turn around, to get lost in the bright eyes that reminded her of warm summer mornings spent at the beach, getting lost in daydreams that felt more real than memories of things she had lived through. Her body urged her to move, to lean against the counter with her eyes finding his features, wandering over his handsome face. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, (y/n)?” She didn’t trust her voice, knowing that she’d most likely make a fool of herself, but the two hands finding her waist, keeping her caged between his tall frame and the counter, encouraged her to part her lips. (Y/n)’s eyes focused on his neck, on the golden necklace he wore, dangling from his neck like a pendulum about to give her a glimpse into her future. 

“I,” a shaky exhale left (y/n), trusting her mind and heart to guide her. “I keep thinking about how comfortable I feel here. Thank you for letting me stay with you, Austin.” 

She expected him to shoot her his signature smile, to pull away from her to reach for his cup. But he kept close to her, hand slowly moving up to her face, cupping her cold cheek. He forced her to look up at him, making her breath hitch in her chest as she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her lips. 

“I tried to stay away from you, but you’re not making it easy for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) got no chance to reply, silenced by the feeling of his lips finding hers. Ever since she had joined his team, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, wondering how his lips would feel pressed against hers, how he’d hold onto her as they got lost in their kiss. But this was so very different to all these daydreams, more intense, more exciting even. With his hands finding the back of her thighs, he helped her onto the counter, allowing himself to stand between her thighs as they kept kissing. 

“Now you’re definitely getting sick for sure,” (y/n) mumbled the words against his lips as they parted to catch their breaths. Austin’s raspy laugh echoed through the kitchen, bright eyes burning her skin as if she was caught in a wildfire, about to burn to the ground. 

“For you I’ll gladly take on the struggles of being sick.” His words left her heart roaring, lips finding his once again. Their tongues met in a teeth clashing kiss, wordlessly managing to communicate their longing, the desperate need they had fought against these past months. “I need you to be honest with me, do you want this? I don’t want to pressure you, sweetheart.”

“Take me to bed, professor.” (Y/n)’s smirk grew wider as his pupils dilated, picking her up without another warning. She had her legs wrapped around him, face buried in the crook of his neck. Within seconds they found themselves in Austin’s bedroom, he didn’t give her much time to take in the big room, the pictures gracing the walls, fully focused on him as he pressed her down on the mattress. 

Austin kissed his way down her throat as if he was following the trail of a treasure hunt, high on the adrenaline of the search. (Y/n) trembled beneath him while her fingers tugged on the hairs at the nape of his neck before moving down to his muscular shoulders. Somehow it felt as if they had done this numerous times before, knowing exactly how and where to touch one another. 

He parted from her to pull her shirt over her head, focus instantly drawn to her naked chest. The way Austin was staring at her made (y/n) feel as if he was marvelling at a masterpiece, a creation of old times the human mind barely managed to understand. Carefully he cupped her breasts, groaning at the feeling of her soft skin pressing against his. They held eye contact as he brought his lips back to her skin, sucking on both nipples before kissing his way down her stomach. 

“Austin,” (y/n) choked on his name, begging him to keep on moving, to touch her where she needed him the most. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart, what do you want?” His voice grew lower with every spoken syllable, pushing heat down to her core. She felt her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally fuck her. 

“You, all of you. Please, I need you so badly.” Without speaking another word, he ripped her panties from her hips, letting his fingers explore her arousal-covered folds. His name rolled off her tongue, she arched her back at the careful touches, trying to shuffle even closer. Austin could do whatever he wanted to her at that very moment, she was putty in his hands, his to toy with, his to use for his own pleasure. Whatever he wanted, she’d do it, if he kept on touching her like this. 

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” (Y/n) could only nod her head, letting go of a breathless gasp the second his rough tongue brushed through her folds. Austin moaned at her taste, he wrapped one arm around her thigh, keeping her pressed to him while the other hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with his fingers. Within the first seconds of him touching her, (y/n) had known that she wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, overstimulated by his touches. 

No longer could she spare her hurting throat any attention, no longer did she struggle to breathe on, all she could do was focus on him, on the way he dipped his tongue into her tightness, how he added more speed to his movements, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“You taste so sweet, I could stay like that forever, if you’ll let me.” She moaned at his praise, fingernails scratching at his skin to try and hold on. Her legs were trembling from the strength she used to curl her toes, unsure how much longer she could stop herself from giving in to an intense orgasm. 

“It’s alright, cum for me, show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.” Austin’s words pushed her into the open arms of her orgasm, calling out his name as he kept circling her clit with a smirk glued to his lips. He watched her every move, every micro-expression he could pick up on, fully mesmerised by the beautiful woman he had wanted to pull closer for months. 

“Oh god,” (y/n) panted the words, drawing gleeful chuckles from Austin as he let go of her. Her glassy eyes watched him undress, gaze wandering down his muscular upper body, past his six-pack to his sweatpants. His cock sprang free as he stepped out of his clothes, a sight that pushed heat straight down to her cunt, needing to feel him buried inside of her. “I need you to fuck me now, I can’t wait any longer, Austin.”

“Mhm, such a desperate girl, we should teach you some patience one day.” He reached for a condom, rolled it down his cock and positioned himself between her thighs. With her hand finding the back of his neck, (y/n) pulled him back down for a kiss, distracting herself from the slight pain as he pushed into her, having to adjust to his size. For a second, they held still, clinging to one another to let go of a few deep exhales, fingers interlaced to try and keep themselves grounded. 

“Move, please, professor.” Austin let go of a growl at the use of the title, building a comfortable rhythm that allowed one another to get used to the sensation. He was careful with her, not daring to hurt her when she was still sick, not fully able to guide her body. But the blissful expression tugging on her features was enough to calm his racing heart, finding enjoyment in the way she clung to him, how she seemingly felt the same pull he did.

They were a mess of tangled limbs, of moans blurring together, of hearts beating in sync, a match so perfect neither of them wanted to break out of their very own bubble. Their bodies met with every thrust, bringing them closer and closer together, while their eyes found back together. 

“My pretty girl, I don’t want to let you go again.” He murmured the words against her lips, luring a soft chuckle out of (y/n). 

“Don’t let me go, don’t you dare.” Her head rolled back as his cock nudged her swollen spot, leaving him grinning in success. Austin kept staring down at her, trying to burn every passing second into his mind, praying that he won’t ever forget about this night. 

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, sweetheart.” With a gasp leaving her, her fingers found her pulsing clit, moving quickly to give her the needed push. He fucked her through her second orgasm, letting go himself as she relaxed beneath him. 

Austin clung to her as they both tried to catch their breaths, only parting as they managed to break through the hazy fog wrapping itself around the two lovers. He threw away the condom before he returned to her, cupping her now warm cheek to pull her in for another kiss. 

“How about a bath?” She could only nod as he picked her up and carried her into his bathroom, while making the silent promise to cherish her for as long as she’ll let him.

[mindstriker]

listen i haven't posted seriously in long-form about bg3 in a hot minute but i've been getting back into it bit by bit and i'm still on my gale and astarion shit.

not the "they hate each other but they love each other" stuff or the "toxic yaoi" (although it is funny to me sometimes) dynamic people seem to typically slap onto them, but rather just- whether you wish to see it in a romantic light or not- the pure potential for a true bitchy wine aunt relationship that lies there.

not only do i think they genuinely like each other in a surprisingly uncomplicated way at times despite how complicated both of them are personally, i will die on the hill of them just being... a bit snobbish together. bitching about wine or food that astarion can't even taste (won't stop him from insulting something based on look alone), reading and reviewing books together, perpetually remaining pretentious about architecture and style in distinctly different ways (grand and gothic versus the absolute hullabaloo of softer maximalism that i can see gale enjoying).

i can see in their good endings an outcome where once in a blue moon a vaguely irritable Newly Minted Adventurer/Locally Morally Dubious Hero Astarion Ancunin occasionally manifests his merry little self at one Prof. Gale Dekarios' door because what IS he there for if not to serve as a free-to-access resource of magical aid anytime he encounters some sort of odd curse or magical foe or what-have-you that he isn't well-versed in. who else is going to gleefully and without question provide him with enchanted weapons that most people would look at with concern. to boot, who else is going to provide said things while also being a good conversation partner.

if he happens to dredge up odd magical shit once in a while while he's romping around the country and drops it off at gale's doorstep (chance of spontaneous combustion, mad howling emanating from a haunted amulet, etc. be damned) every so often, it's only fair.

people love the drama that comes with a less stable outcome to their relationship, and that's entirely fair if that's the dynamic that you prefer out of these characters, but i think the potential for just genuine non-spiteful banter and connection is often overlooked. i think, at very least, that they could and should be good lasting friends. send tweet