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wisecura · 3 days ago

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Sweeter

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.1 - 4k (technically SFW, but the next chapter not so much)

summary: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: thank you for this request! I've definitely dabbled in this concept before, and I have plans to do another similar to this but a lot meaner. I really like the color orange.

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE warnings: pwp (lots of plot, lots of porn), small age gap (first year and third years - no sex between minors), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, immature (sheltered) reader,

and a part 2?

“What kind of man is your type?”

You stare in stunned silence, the question barely registering in your head. Seriously, it was just your second day at Jujutsu Tech, and here you were, face-to-face with possibly the two hottest guys you'd ever laid eyes on.

And they're clearly having some kind of fun with the newbie. Is this some sort of unofficial welcome ritual for underclassmen or just plain old hazing?

That's one hell of a question to drop on someone, especially since, if you really had to choose, your type would probably be a perfect mix of the two heartthrobs standing in front of you. I mean, come on, they were drop-dead gorgeous—definitely not the type you’d expect to bump into in a high school corridor. They looked more like they'd walked off a fashion shoot or something.

"Yo—" You choked on your words, and you quickly turned your head, feeling your cheeks warm up with a shy blush.

“Uhm…my kind of man? I like someone who’s strong...and, uhm…hot.”

The white-haired one hummed thoughtfully, sharing a quick glance with Mr. Manbun. His eyes were the bluest you'd ever seen, flashing even behind his glasses. And the other's eyes—were they actually purple? Is that even a natural eye color?

Their silent exchange felt like an entire conversation, and somehow, it encouraged you to keep going.

"I-I mean like muscular? Wait no—more like, a lifelong partner? Someone who can take care of me—a good listener, y’know?"

As you rambled on, you could feel your cheeks burning up, and you shuffled your feet, unable to stand still. They both chuckled at your nervousness, catching you off guard—and then, they finally introduced themselves.

"I'm Satoru Gojo," said one with a wink that sent your heart racing.

"And I'm Suguru Geto," added the other, his voice so deep that you found yourself looking away.

They didn't explain the earlier questioning, but whatever test they had in mind, you must've passed with flying colors. From that day on, Satoru and Suguru seemed to appear just about everywhere you went.

You hadn't expected to see them much after that initial interaction, but they seemed to show up in the weirdest places. You’d see them walking in the hallways, despite their classes being across the school, near vending machines that you frequented, and even by the park you sat at with your classmates.

And soon enough, they started 'accidentally' stumbling into your classes, drawing exasperated sighs from your teachers as they casually plopped down on either side of you. Interjecting themselves into the conversations you had, placing themselves into every facet of your life–present in every second of your free time. You couldn’t even feign surprise when they began showing up at your training sessions, taking a special interest in your improvements as a sorcerer.

"Need a sparring partner?" Satoru flashed an easy grin as he slung an arm casually across your shoulders–another new development you noticed since they began seeing you more often: the touches. Suguru was never far behind, within fingers' length. Inches away, never as touchy as Satoru, but he had his moments. Whether it was both Satoru and Suguru together or just one of them, you could always expect not to be alone.

And after asking around–hearing the whispers from those around you, you learned that Satoru and Suguru were the strongest in the school. It wasn't just impressive—it was downright intimidating. Satoru, in particular, was regarded as the strongest of his generation, a reputation that added an extra layer of awe—and pressure—to your interactions.

You, hailing from a small, conservatively raised clan, couldn’t help but feel like you were playing in an entirely different league.

Before coming to school, your knowledge of cursed techniques was minimal at best. Your clan, lacking the wealth and influence of the more prominent families, hadn’t provided much in the way of advanced training. In fact, the notion of attending an actual school, rather than being homeschooled like many others in your clan, took everyone by surprise—especially you.

In your clan, the rules for girls were pretty clear-cut: get married and start having kids as soon as you hit eighteen. The cultural expectations had always hovered over you like a predetermined fate, yet you'd begged and begged anyways. And here you were—after many threats to refuse marriage, to run away, threatening to do the most drastic things—finally at school.

That to say, your clan wasn't much for affectionate and loving gestures. You'd never known close friendships, and you had no clue how to interact with the two. Yet despite this, Satoru and Suguru were ridiculously warm and almost overly affectionate towards you. They weren't just friendly; they took it to another level—constantly teasing you, never enough to push you away–just enough to make you flush red and smack an arm or two.

They were like your personal bodyguards, stepping in to shield you from what they thought were unfair missions, always keeping an eye out during your training sessions or interactions with the higher ups. They even went as far as syncing their schedules with yours—just so they could be there for you whenever you needed.They always made sure to include you in their conversations, valued your opinions, and weren't shy about asking plenty of personal questions, drawing you into their circle so effortlessly–it felt like you'd always been a part of the duo. And despite the gap in experience and power, they never made you feel lesser, or spoke down to you.

When it came to physical affection, they never shied away from it–hugs quickly became the norm—just another part of your daily interactions. Almost as frequent as the lingering touches that seemed to pop up out of nowhere, the casual sharing of food and drinks, and those silly moments when they’d playfully feed you a bite of their lunch or coax you into sitting on their laps, arms wrapped around your waist.

And honestly, you didn’t mind their presence much. Despite the constant teasing, the constant presence in your life, and the overt clinginess, you really couldn't compare it with anything else–so you chalked it down to normal. Growing up in a clan that wasn’t big on hugs and kisses, you kind of assumed their touchy-feely behavior was just how friends acted, so you didn’t make a big deal about it—even when they would get really close, snuggling into the crook of your neck, or planting small pecks in random places. Normal. This was normal.

And it worked that way for a while... It wasn’t until some of your classmates pointed out how odd it seemed that you were so close to the untouchable duo. How they hadn't shown much interest in anyone else, and from afar it looked more like they were caring for a well groomed pet than a friend.

You tried to fit in, not wanting to be seen as the odd one out by your classmates, and as you grew more self-conscious, you did start to pull back a bit. But the more you retreated, the more pushy they became–your dynamic so intertwined with your everyday life, it was like pulling teeth.

You found yourself constantly dodging the snacks they pushed toward your mouth, slipping out from under the arms they kept throwing around your shoulders. You even started keeping details about your life more guarded, trying to maintain some personal space. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself, Satoru and Suguru had grown too attached, finally deciding to confront you about your newfound evasiveness when they couldn’t take it anymore.

As you once again shrugged off another arm from your shoulder, Satoru and Suguru halted, turning to you with a look of concern. "What’s up with you lately? You seem really tense. Is something bothering you?"

Satoru’s voice carried the softness of genuine concern, but there was a deliberate persistence behind his words. Probing, searching. Suguru joined in, his tone echoing Satoru's worry, yet there was a subtle tint to sound teasing, not wanting to ruin the good mood. "You’ve been pretty distant lately. It’s not like you. You're not feeling left out, are you?"

As you tried to put more space between you and them, voicing that you just didn't feel good, Satoru pulled you slightly closer, his grip firm, as if to physically manifest a will for you to stop pulling away. "Look, if something’s wrong, you should tell us. We’re your friends, we’re here for you.

And this is what finally led to you opening up about the comments your friends were making, but now Satoru and Suguru were visibly upset. You knew Satoru well enough to expect his dramatic flair—he was always the louder, more expressive one. But Suguru? His irritation was something you hadn't seen before.

"They’re saying what now? So, your little 'friends' are harassing you? Is that it?" Suguru’s voice was icy, his eyebrows knitting together in a rare show of displeasure. You couldn’t picture the words coming from his lips, but here they were.

“Hmpf” a puzzled look crossing your face, “I wouldn’t say harassed, just—“

“Oh c’mon, princess, you don’t need to defend them,” Satoru interjected quickly, pulling you close, settling you into his lap with a swift motion. You stumbled slightly but found stability as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, losing the desire to really pull back.

"You know, we're just looking out for you," Satoru continued, his voice softening, rubbing his chin over your head like an overgrown cat. "People can get the wrong idea, but they don't understand how close we are."

Suguru nodded, "Exactly. It’s normal for us, right? This is how we've always been with each other. They just aren't part of our circle, are they?"

After that conversation, you hardly heard a peep from anyone else about your friendship with the two. The only difference in your relationship between you three, seemed to be the fact that the two became even more relentlessly clingy.

They began popping up on your dual missions, offering help so you could 'finish up faster,' only to whisk you away for yet another impromptu bakery date. Picking up things from their missions, using the money they had to buy you expensive presents, always ensuring you took care of yourself. They spoiled you rotten,and really, you couldn’t find it in your heart to be annoyed—they were just so committed to keeping you safe and well-fed. And If they said your friendship was normal, then who should you believe?

They were super protective, almost to a fault. No one else was really allowed to hang with your little crew without getting some serious side-eye or a snappy comment from them. It felt like they saw everyone else as the enemy, but when it came to you, they couldn’t be sweeter. Their teasing tone only got more flirty and affectionate by the day.

The touches become more firm, no longer small or lingering, but firm and almost commanding. A clear message to the people around you, yet you never really paid attention.

You tried to give back what they gave, not wanting to be a bad friend or seem distant. And they only seemed to encourage it—sometimes pulling your wrist over to feed them, playfully licking your finger. They leaned into your head pats, one would always nudge you closer to the other, both soaking up your warmth. Even Suguru seemed more affectionate, somewhat taking after Satoru. Their hugs became even tighter, pulling you in close to inhale your scent from your neck, sending small shivers down your neck.

You sort of felt bad. Here were your friends, interacting how they normally would, and here you were–developing these…feelings. Inappropriate thoughts that you refused to share. They interacted as affectionately to each other as they did with you–so you knew for a fact they were not having the same thoughts as you. So you ignore it. Hoping it'll go away.

By the time you rolled into your second year, you really started to get a handle on the social hierarchy. Jujutsu Society was just as stiff and formal as your own family, something you hadn't fully grasped until Satoru started pointing out its many flaws. He was the heir to the Gojo clan, and he was constantly venting about how he was being pressured to take over next year—a role he was definitely not excited about.

He'd go on and on about how they were always on his case, trying to push him this way and that. But given his reputation as the strongest around—it was pretty clear that Satoru wasn't the type to be pushed into anything he didn’t want to do.

Your two best friends were about to finish high school, and the looming thought of their departure was a tough pill to swallow. You’d grown incredibly close, digging deep into each other’s lives, and the mere thought of saying goodbye felt like a punch to the gut. They reassured you, of course, promising that you’d always stay in touch. But deep down, you knew better.

Your family's strict rules meant the only real freedom you had was at school. And if they weren't coming back to school, the chances of seeing them after you graduated were slim to none, especially with the looming prospect of your arranged marriage hanging over your head.

And when they finally did leave, you tried to keep up with your usual routine, but it just wasn’t the same without them around. Sure, your phone buzzed with texts from them, and you were all active in your group chat, but real updates on their lives came in dribs and drabs. You missed them terribly.

Every summer break after they graduated, they’d send you invites to hang out, but with your super conservative family keeping tight reins, you could never make it out of the estate. It was incredibly frustrating, feeling trapped while imagining your friends out there, having a blast and probably moving on without you.

And by your fourth year, whispers about your upcoming marriage began circulating around the clan house, causing bouts of panic and desperation creeping up in you. Suffice to say, you were far from thrilled with the idea. Dreaming of becoming a full-fledged sorcerer, going out on missions, and making a difference, you had bigger plans than just settling down as a homemaker for some clan member you hardly knew.

Yet, family tradition cast a long shadow over your life, always nudging you towards doing what was expected, not what you desired. The thought of just following along without making your own choices really got to you, but what choice did you really have?

Then, out of nowhere, that fateful day crashed upon you.

Your mother burst into your room, her eyes alight with a mix of glee and anticipation, an expression so foreign to her usually stoic demeanor. She was practically skipping as she waved an envelope in the air, her excitement out of place in the somber and bleak context that was your life at the moment.

"The Gojo clan! We’ve received a letter from the Gojo clan. Your marriage has officially been arranged!" she squealed, a sound so uncharacteristic it almost didn't seem real.

You stood there, shell-shocked, as her words reverberated through the sparsely decorated confines of your room. This couldn't be right. There must be some mistake, or perhaps it was another Gojo clan, not the Gojo that you knew all too well. Couldn't be.

As you mulled over her announcement, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of confusion and disbelief, and as if the universe itself had scripted the moment, your phone lit up. You glanced down, heart skipping a beat. "Gojo Satoru" flashed across the screen, dragging you back into a harsh reality.

A message from him now? It seemed like some cruel cosmic joke was unfolding right before your eyes.

The day you were to meet the Gojo clan finally arrived, with the sun shining brightly, its cheerfulness almost mocking the storm of emotions roiling inside you.

Dressed to the nines at your mother's behest, each step toward the Gojo clan estate felt unbearably heavy. A sense of foreboding gnawed at you—details about your future husband were alarmingly sparse.

Your attempts to glean more information had been futile. Satoru's responses over the last week were disturbingly evasive, skillfully sidestepping your questions. And surprisingly, Suguru hadn’t mentioned anything either, which was odd considering how close you had all become. The silence from both him and Satoru not only heightened your anxiety but also stirred a mix of suspicion and unease.

You'd think your marriage would strike some kind of reaction from the two. Not even a congratulations was sent–not that you wanted one. It begged the question. Were they intentionally keeping something from you? Did they know something you didn't?

As you approached the grand entrance of the Gojo estate, your heart thudded painfully in your chest. The overwhelming anxiety about your unclear future was one thing, but a deeper sense of betrayal cut even more sharply.

Stepping through the towering doors of the Gojo residence, you were immediately struck by the opulence that greeted you.

The extravagance of the foyer, with its traditional/modern vibe and gleaming wooden floors, was a stark contrast to the modest, basic estate you had grown up in. You entered the room with your head down, following closely behind your mother, just as you were taught. Today was the day you were supposed to meet the man you were going to marry.

Your mom led the way to a low-rise table, sitting to your left, your dad taking a quiet seat to your right. The room was filled with the sound of impatient fingers drumming on the table, which nudged you to sneak a cautious glance upward to the source of the noise.

There, dressed in his ceremonial blue robes, sat Satoru, his presence alone enough to make your heart skip a beat. You hadn't seen him in months, barely heard a peep from him, yet here he was. In all his handsome glory. It didn't really hit you until he leaned in, casually throwing out with a sly smirk, “Is this my new pretty little wife?” He was obviously playing, but boy, did those words land with a thud.

Your father, completely oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside you, beamed with unabashed pride. He quickly jumped in with introductions, puffing out his chest as he announced, “This is my daughter,” as though marrying you off to the Gojos was his crowning achievement. You noticed a few other clan members–likely from the Gojo clan, chatting away with your parents.

As you sat there, trying to make sense of how rapidly your life was pivoting, the room seemed to spin. Everyone around you—your family, the Gojos—seemed ecstatic about the arrangement. Yet, you felt as if you were observing the scene from outside your own body, detached and overwhelmed.

Satoru's behavior, once so familiar and easy, now felt oddly formal, adding to the surreal nature to the whole affair. He was professional, stern, yet friendly. And despite the formalities, he seemed to pick up on your discomfort. Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice, a genuine note creeping in as he asked, “So, what do you think?” His eyes, intense and searching, met yours across the chatter-filled table. It was a subtle gesture, but it was enough to show he was at least aware of the shock you were experiencing.

Finding words felt like navigating a minefield, caught as you were between your family's expectations and the bizarre reality of potentially marrying someone you actually knew—as a friend. Upsetting him. Upsetting your family. "It's... a lot to take in," you managed to whisper back, your voice barely audible.

Satoru nodded, his usual smirk softening into a more empathetic smile, a hand finding yours form across the table, going unnoticed. "We'll figure this out,” his tone was almost promising. The dynamic hanging heavy between the two of you, as your mind filled with every question under the sun.

Around you, the discussion continued unabated, your parents and the Gojos merrily planning away, oblivious to the subtle exchange between you and Satoru. Talk of wedding dates, ceremonial specifics, and the merging of two influential clans dominated the conversation, each phrase further solidifying the daunting reality of your situation.

As you listened, a part of you wanted to rebel, to shout that you weren’t just some pawn in a clan alliance. Yet, another part of you understood the importance of this union, not just for you but for everyone involved. The conflict left you feeling torn, unsure of whether to follow your heart or fulfill the role that had been chosen for you.

As the meeting wrapped up, Satoru stood and extended a hand to help you up, your parents smiling beside you, nudging you to follow. "Let's take a walk," he suggested with a gentle nod toward the gardens. "We need to talk, just the two of us."

Relieved to step away from the oppressive atmosphere of the meeting, you took Satoru's hand, letting him guide you out into the soothing fresh air. As you walked beside him, the gardens of the Gojo estate offered a serene backdrop to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind. Here, away from the prying eyes and ears, you wanted to ask him.

Why? What was going on? Why was he extending an offer to your family for your hand in marriage?

As soon as you were out of sight, hidden by the lush greenery of the Gojo estate's gardens, Satoru's demeanor changed. He quickly pulled you into a hug, his grip firm, unrelenting, as if a man deprived of oxygen, and a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "I missed you," he said, his voice a blend of jest and something you couldn’t quite place—was it relief?

The sudden closeness startled you, ramping up the anxiety already swirling inside you. “Satoru, why are you doing this? What would Suguru think?” you blurted out, your voice tinged with panic. You weren’t sure why exactly Suguru sprang to mind, but memories of recent texts in your group chat flickered through your thoughts. Was he in on Satoru’s plans? Did he support this unexpected turn in your relationship dynamic? Did he even know?—

Satoru pulled back slightly, his gaze narrowing into a frown that bordered on annoyance—a look you had never seen directed at you. “This was both of our ideas,” he revealed nonchalantly, as if the joint decision should ease your mind. His casual dismissal of your concerns stung, and his next words cut even deeper, tone boarding on mean. “What? Would you rather have another man marry you?”

His question stopped you cold. Was this really all for your benefit? Or was there something else at play here? Why the harsh tone? Was he upset?

Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts. The idea of marrying someone you didn't know at all, someone outside of this circle you’d grown to trust—even if it was in a bizarre, unconventional way—seemed far worse. “No,” you finally said, your voice soft but certain. “I guess you’re better than someone else.”

Satoru’s face softened at your acceptance, never releasing his hold on you. He melted into you, hands clenching at your sides, “We thought so too,” he murmured, the word ‘we’ making you catch your breath—the implication clear as day. This was planned, and this was for you. But it sounded almost like he was trying to reassure both himself and you. “Look, I know this is all kind of weird, and it’s happening fast, but Suguru and I—we’ve got you. We’re not going to let anything bad happen.”

His words did settle some of your fears, and you relaxed into him. They were familiar, and you knew Satoru pretty well, and despite the strangeness of their proposal, you couldn't imagine being in this situation with anyone else. Maybe it would be alright?

“Let’s figure this out together, okay?” Satoru’s voice now held a sincerity that pierced through the remaining doubts. “Just give us a chance to make this work. For all of us.”

As you nodded, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, you realized that this might just be your best option.

Hand in hand, you walked back to the house with Satoru. The discussions that followed were a blur, and before long, a date for the marriage was set.

and a part 2?

come home, this one has a second home

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theartofwoompwoomp · 3 days ago

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I never knew we could coexist together

Shadow x reader

Summary : shadow is surprised to learns that humans understand grief. And he learns it from the human that’s the most tolerable and happiest in his life.

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“Do you really think you could ever understand.”

His voice ragged and tight from the anger. There’s no way anyone could understand what he lost. Especially not you…

You have everything. A happy family, friends, a place in this world.

he had nothing…

Sure others may have accepted him, yet it has never been the same and it hasn’t ever taken the pain.

Someone as happy as you wouldn’t and shouldn’t ever understand his pain.

His grip getting tighter in his hand, he can feel himself shaking a bit as he lowers his eyes to the ground.

He feels bad for snapping at you. He wasn’t expecting to have all his pent up anger explode on you. Finally the shame starts crawling it’s way and he was getting ready to leave. He didn’t want to see your face.

Not right now, when he feels so angry with you even though you’re the only one thats stuck around.

All his emotions are spinning all over his head just waiting for another opportunity to explode, and he does not want you to be at the end of it.

Without saying anything else, he keeps his head down as he turns to leave.

But just as he’s a few steps away his are is pulled back quite forcefully towards you again.

“What do you think you’re doing—“

You hugged him.

Holding tight making sure you won’t let go of him. He tenses a bit not fully processing what you’re doing.

Why are still trying? Why do you still care even if he hurt you? He doesn’t deserve you.

Before he realizes it, he’s holding you close as well.

Nothing is said between either of you, he’s simply shaking a bit in your arms as you rub his back a bit.

Memories come back to him. Those of maria, his actions, and of you.

Small tears roll down his cheeks but he could care less at the moment. “It hurts.” His voice broken and tired from all the pain that never goes away.

You hugged him a bit tighter as you whisper a bit into his ears, “I know shads, i know.” Not daring to let go or abandon him in this moment, you wait it out. Feeling your own tears slowly dropping as well as his cries intensify.

He feels like he just got ran over, but at least you’re still there, holding him. Both of you more calmed down from the whole ordeal.

He finally decides to let go from your embrace and you let him.

He sits on the ground and you follow along and sit next to him. Just waiting to see who’ll be the first to speak.

Surprisingly after a few minutes shadow softly starts speaking, “i don’t want to talk about it.” His brows furrow a bit, “i appreciate your kindness, but I don’t like speaking about my pain.”

He feels you caress his hand. “That’s okay,” holding it firmly when turns it offering you to continue your action of affection, “i understand that pain can be hard to share.”

He turns to see you, eyes glazing over you face wondering what ever could have caused you pain to make that expression.

“You might be surprised but humans suffer from many things. Some of us are just a little better at pretending nothing’s wrong.”

“Doesn’t it hurt to do that?”

You look over, seeing his worry through his eyes. “Of course it does. Suffering is always painful.” Your eyes and hands never leaving one another. Sharing more emotions this way than any words could describe.

You lean a bit onto him, “but you know,” he reciprocates as you continue, “i think that’s a reason why there’s so many of us in the first place. Maybe so we could help each other through the pain… it’s too bad many seem forget the value of this”

He shifts a bit as he feels you move again. This time you’re kneeling a bit in front of him.

“That’s why I’m so glad that I at least have you in my life.”

His heart twinges a bit, feeling guilty for trying to ever push you away. And you notice it before he even says anything.

“Please don’t shut me out,” you’re hugging him again.

And he hugs you back, holding you softly as he feels your breath on his shoulder. Your actions and words melting all the doubt and numbing the pain. He’s comforted knowing that you’re not going nowhere, staying right there with him.

“Im glad that it’s you, and not anyone else at my side.”

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masterlist

#Aggggh i love this pair so much #Really wrote this from a random thought lol def not proof read #shadow x reader #sonic x reader #sonic fandom #shadow the ultimate lifeform #comfort #comfort fic #angst #fluff #sunshine x grumpy #sonic #sonic movie 3 #shadow the hedgehog #sth x reader #year of shadow

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777heavengirl · 2 days ago

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the one with the picture

sirius black x reader ! - 2,084 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: IM BACK IM BACK IM BACK also sorry its so late at night hectic day xoxo i hope you enjoy!! don't forget to drop a little reblog or even just comment guys!! it is so very appreciated and it lets me know y'all want more!

“Ready to become uncles?” You asked, a yawn following your words.

Remus smiled at you, soft and sleepy from the couch facing yours. His cane rested on the arm of the couch, abandoned for the comfort of the shitty hospital seat. Remus nodded wordlessly.

“I reckon I’ll be a terrible uncle,” Peter gruffed as he shook the box of candies into his mouth, emptying it “I have nothing to teach this bloody baby-”

“I don’t think anyone expects you to teach him anything Wormtail-” Sirius pipped up with a laugh from the corner where he paced in circles, head swiveling towards the room James and Lily were in as a nurse hurried out of it.

You ignored the bustling of nurses, you had long learned by now that unless you saw James, it probably didn’t mean anything.

“Why on Merlin’s green earth did they decide to give birth in a muggle hospital-” Peter groaned into his hands, the hours of waiting bearing down on him.

“Lily refused to do a home birth remember? St Mungo’s doesn't exactly do the whole birth thing- ” Remus muttered from the small beige sofa he had curled up in, long legs spilling from the edge of the cushions. You wondered if he was comfortable, but his eyes were closed and he had barely moved in the past two hours so you assumed on some level he probably was. Well, between his cardigan and long pants, he was at least doing better than you. You could feel your skin start erupting in goosebumps from the cold.

It had been a blur really, the furious knocking at your door at the hands of Peter, and haphazardly putting on the first thing you found after basically clawing off the stuffy funeral dress. You didn’t even have enough time to grab a jacket, barely putting on shoes as Remus and Peter swept you off to the muggle hospital. A shiver ran down your spine as you cursed the pajama shorts and stupid t-shirt you had thrown on.

You could feel Sirius’s grey eyes on you, staring straight into the side of your head. But you refused to look, instead burying your face further into your hands. You didn’t notice he had moved until he was right next to you-

“Take it-” Sirius handed you his suit’s jacket, basically shoving it into your arms so you couldn't say no. “You’re going to get sick,” You stared at it, fingers softly squeezing the soft material. He sat next to you.

The small, beige couch you had chosen to sit on was much like the one you had when you were freshly moved in. It lived in your home for a measly two weeks before Euphemia decreed that no child of hers would have such a stiff abomination in her watch. It was hard and restricting. The two of you might as well have been sitting on a wooden bench. But neither of you dared to move, so you sat, silently, both wishing Euphemia could save you from the clutches of the rigid couch.

Sirius thought of the sofa. And when you first moved in. Together and bright-eyed, he had been so in love with you then. He reckons he still was. But now he knew there was no hope of you loving him back.

He cursed the couch silently.

“Put it on,” he sighed as he leaned back, his white button-up shifting as he threw his arm over the backrest. “Don’t be stubborn-”

You huffed as you put it on, “thanks…”

“Don’t mention it,” you leaned back too, the back of your neck close to his arm, almost touching but quite. “Did you bring my camera?” you nodded, but he didn't answer back.

You couldn’t stand the distance between you, a thick jelly of silence that was anything but peaceful. You dreaded going home, you dreaded having to face that your best friend, the boy you so dearly loved was upset with you.

Especially over something so petty. What did he care that you had a job? Your own life? Something to do that wasn’t shared with him? It was rather selfish of him, wasn’t it? You could almost hear your father spew that sentence from the darkest pits of your mind.

You stared at the small bag in Sirius’s hand. You didn’t know why you hadn’t taken notice of it before. He clutched the small velvet bag tightly. Did it have an extension charm? You wondered if it was his things then, had he carried that to the funeral? You thought you would’ve noticed. Had he been planning on staying at James’s? Had he cleared his things at some point without you noticing?

You rubbed circles into the palm of your hand and chewed at your lip worryingly.

If your father knew he’d call you stupid. Stupid for not looking for an apartment to move out, stupid for not being the first to leave, irresponsible, too trusting, so stupid.

You decided you maybe didn’t want to know if he was indeed planning to leave.

“Hey-” he shifted uncomfortably “do you think we can talk about... you know, everything”

“Sirius I don’t know if it's the time-” You refused to even take a peek at him, even though you knew he was staring right at you now.

“Well, Merlin knows how much longer we’re going to be here-” he was right, you had all been here for ages waiting for the baby to come “so yeah it might be the time,”

You sighed, finally turning to look at him. His stupid shiny grey eyes, and his stupid porcelain skin. His stupid stupid frowning lip. He’d deny he was sporting one if you called him out on it.

He had always been a pouty one.

You were mad. At least you wanted to be, but when you looked at him, in all his disheveled glory, the hair he had run his hand through a thousand times, the white button-up with the top buttons undone and that had been unconsciously untucked from his slacks. You just couldn’t be genuinely mad.

So you softened, finally moving to face him. Your knee knocked against his, his warmth transferring from his leg onto your skin.

“I’m sorry, for being so petty earlier- it was unfair and-” Sirius sighed, staring at your hand on your lap. His fingers twitched with the need to hold yours, to feel your no doubt freezing fingers between his warm ones.

He thought of your first week of living together again.

He grabbed your hand. You stared at the bag in his other hand again.

Like if you stared at it hard enough it would tell you its contents. But your thoughts drifted as your soft fingers were enveloped in his. Yet, you didn’t say anything, you didn’t dare. You squeezed his hand and he finally looked up, back from whatever thought he had briefly gotten lost in.

“I’m really sorry about the past few weeks-”

“I’m sorry too,”

“I just wish you could trust me enough to let me take care of you- there’s no one else in the world I’d rather spend my days with…” You swallowed thickly as he spoke “I love you-”

“My baby’s here!” James burst through a door down the hallway, cheering at the top of his lungs without caring about the nurse shushing him. “He’s here and he’s beautiful come on you lot- come on!”

Sirius quickly scrambled to his feet, the other two boys following in the chaos of unsticking themselves from their respective sofas. You tried to ignore it, the sting in your heart. You loved him too of course. But did he love you the way you loved him?

There simply wasn't any time for that right now.

Sirius didn’t let go of your hand; he simply pulled, pulled until you came up with him. His hand grabbed tightly onto yours and as you ran down the hall, straight for the door to Lily’s room.

He never once let go of you.

The room was lowly lit, and Lily looked exhausted, but a smile graced her features nonetheless. Sirius tossed the small velvet bag to James with his free hand. The worry of it left your head as quickly as it had come.

Sirius dragged you by your hand all the way up to the bed, his face turning in wonder as he looked at the small baby in Lily’s arms.

“He’s so small” Peter called out from the foot of the bed,

“He’s so bloody pink-” Sirius glanced at James’s darker skin, a beaming smile nevertheless decorating his face. “Do you reckon he’ll stay like that? Or did he get the redhead’s genes?”

“Oi is that the first thing you have to say about your godson?” James couldn't help but laugh

“My godson?” Sirius stared blankly at James, briefly flickering between Lily’s equally beaming smile and the baby’s little pink face.

“I meant to ask but-” James smiled sheepishly as Lily glared,

“Merlin he’s my godson”

“Do you want to hold him?” Lily whispered as Sirius’s face broke into a smile as well,

“Of course, I want to hold my bloody godson Evans- he’s my godson”

Remus chuckled as he patted James on the back. You couldn’t help but wrap your hand around the camera that hung from your wrist.

You snapped a picture.

You knew what Sirius would write on the back of it later.

My godson. July 31, 1980

Just simple, and small, in his fancy, loopy cursive and black ink. But monumental in itself. He had done it. He had a family, he had always had one but now he was properly part of it. He was not just a stray taken in, but he now had a part in it. He’d love that baby until his body gave out.

He knew it, you knew it, James and Lily knew it. From the second he was born, this baby would be the most loved baby on the planet.

“I can’t believe he’s mine-”

“You don’t get to take him home mate”

“Hush Prongs- I’m going to be his favorite I know it” Sirius smiled, a playful smirk exchanged between friends. James couldn’t help but quip back

“Right after Uncle Moony-”

“Ah that’s for sure,” Remus laughed

“I meant his favorite parent but I reckon Wormtail will be the preferred uncle, with all the candy pouring from his pockets the kid is gonna love him no doubt-” You all couldn’t help but laugh-

“Do you want to hold him too?” Lily asked, her gaze shifting onto your face. “I reckon the godmother also deserves to hold baby Harry-”

“Are you serious?

“Obviously-”

“Lily are you being serious-”

“Yes! Black hand her the baby- god-” Sirius chuckled as he passed the small bundle into your arms, placing the camera at the foot of the bed. He was heavier than you expected, and the tears gathered in your eyes as you looked at his little face. Harry was small and definitely pink. He was a quiet little thing, undisturbed by the exchange of hands he was going through. Sirius leaned his chin on top of your shoulder, his cheek borderline pressed against yours.

“Isn’t he the ugliest most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Oi!”

“He’s so ugly it's cute-” His words tickled your ear

“I don’t think babies are supposed to be all that cute straight after birth Sirius-”

“I know love,”

“Alright, picture time idiots-” Remus said, leaning on his cane as he grabbed the camera with his free hand. James sitting on the side of Lily’s bed as you and Sirius also approached, baby Harry still in your arms.

“I look like shit-” You huffed as you sat on the bed with Lily

“I do too”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to Lils” Lily laughed. Sirius’s hand never left your back.

“Well- he won’t remember anyway-”

“The picture will-”

“Say godparents!” Sirius had basically wrapped himself to your side, his face pressed against yours, his arm around your waist as he leaned down for the picture.

The flash made your eyes sting, a wide smile on your face.

It was fitting, the disheveled state of the lot of you, even in the picture the nurse would take for you all later. A family sewed together like a mismatched quilt.

Sirius smiled all night.

“Seriously though why is he so pink? Is this some sort of condition? Bloody baby doesn’t look anything like Prongs-”

“-Yet” James beamed.

My family, July 31, 1980

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie

LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED U OR IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED (i was gone for like a month and some change so i may have not been able to properly keep up with the tag list but i did my best)

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from-izzy · 3 days ago

Text

skating with you | nct lee donghyuck | haechan

Haechan leans his forehead to yours as your icy noses brush against each other, “Eyes on me, bubs,” he whispers.

pairing » nct lee donghyuck (haechan) x gn!reader (lmk if i missed anything!)

trope/au » established relationship au!, holiday theme!

genre » fluffy fluff fluff!, cheeky and slightly flirty haechan, and slightly flustered reader...?, cutie boyfriend haechan, no. 1 supportive and caring haechan, reader doesn't really know how to skate and haechan helps you through it, it's all so very lovely (and i need someone to help me skate-)

word count; estimated reading time » 850; ~4 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » none!

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 nct dream masterlist

is this my last upload of the year...? we shall see!!

“If I fall flat on my face, this will be your fault,” your threat only seems harmless to your boyfriend.

Haechan skates further away from you, lightly showing off his skills of skating backward gracefully, even adding light twirl patterns on the ice. Meanwhile, you’re left at the rink's perimeter, hands gripping for support and eyes squinting playfully at your delightful boyfriend. You have no idea why you thought it was a good idea to go skating when you have minimal experience and are the clumsiest person you know. But Haechan had to jut his lower lip, eyebrows shaped into mountains to your poor heart. How could you say no to that face?

But, your weakness in saying no to your boyfriend has led you here. In the public ice skating arena. Back leaning onto the wall for dear life.

It’s been thirty minutes yet you haven’t made much progress from the entrance of the rink. Maybe it’s your fear of falling or the fear of competent younger children snickering at you falling to your knees. Haechan has made a few rounds around, even entertaining others with little tricks. Watching him from afar made your heart warm as others realised how lovable your boyfriend is. Children reach for a high five, adults smiling at the small talk or encouragement he would send as he passes by.

“Wanna hold my hand now?” Haechan skates beside you.

You've rejected the last few offers, determined to do at least half of the oval rink by yourself; you and the wall beside you. But balancing yourself on a somewhat thin metal as your knees shake with tensed muscles is taking more energy than you expected.

You give in, slumping your back on the wall, elbows propped up as you lean. “I just need to rest first.”

Haechan chuckles at you, making a final push on the ice to skate to you. His arms cage you between his frame, closing significant space between you both. Your eyes widen at his bold action, cheeks and neck heating at the fond eyes he’s placing upon your orbs. His eyelashes flutter prettily upon your features, a soft smile forming its way into your boyfriend’s place. The rowdy noises of the kids, metal swishing and passing behind Haechan all blur when Haechan steadies your once-leaning figure to stand with his hands securely encasing your waist.

It’s too bad that the cold temperature has you bundled up in a few layers or else you could feel the relaxing motion of his thumb caressing your side.

Haechan leans his forehead to yours as your icy noses brush against each other, “Eyes on me, bubs,” he whispers.

As per his words, you lock your eyes with him, only closing them once or twice when you’re fully supported by him. Your forearm instinctively rests on top of his, occasionally pushing them down due to your nervousness, still afraid of slipping and toppling over Haechan, potentially hurting both of you in the process.

“Don’t worry,” he eases your mind, pressing a quick kiss on your colder lips. “You’re going to be alright,” pressing his lips to yours again, leaving them there for a bit longer. “I’m not going to let you fall,” perfectly stealing your lips once more after you hum an acknowledgement to his words. “If you fall, it’s only going to be in my arms.”

You should’ve known he would sneak in a cheesy line or two, and your laughter makes you forget your anxiousness about being on the ice. Slowly, Haechan skates backwards again, this time with you in his hold. Admittedly, this has been his plan from the very start: to have you close like this as you conquer your fear and challenge; you’re not going to complain about this either.

Haechan is a great skating teacher, pulling and guiding you out of your comfort ice. Both of you dance in the rink for an hour together. It starts with you facing him as he distracts you from paying too much attention to what your body is doing, instead prompting you to naturally let you relax into the situation. Then slowly, he takes his place next to you, his palm holding your forearm. Then, linking hands together for the final stage before he lets you go after you find the confidence to brave the environment once more.

You almost lost your balance for a while, hunching your back to hold your knee. “You can do it!” Your boyfriend hollers encouragement behind you. Soon those words become more familiar, your proud boyfriend behind you stealing everyone’s attention at your successful solo skating.

You did a full lap with no support from him or the wall. You leap into Haechan’s arm at the end line, Haechan littering kisses all over your face. The golden hour highlights his face, his smiling beaming further from the rays of the sun.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have been such a good teacher. And you shouldn’t be so talented either!” Your eyebrows raise at his words, unsure of where he’s going, “Now, you won’t need my help anymore…”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 nct dream masterlist

tags: @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @ncity-net

@haneul-and-clouds

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blueberrylixie · 2 days ago

Text

yes, sir

part two of the yes series

to read part one, yes, professor, click here !

student hyunjin x fem! student reader x professor changbin

word count: 11,247

Content warnings: cursing, threesome (mfm, no bxb), oral sex (m and f receiving), pussy job, anal sex (f receiving), pet names (slut, whore, baby, sweetheart, etc.), use of professor and sir for males, light spanking, light degradation, descriptions of cum, graphic depictions of sex (that's why ur here lol)

let me know if i missed anything in this one-shot bc i tend to miss stuff! if you want to skip to the smut, scroll to the white heart divider!

six months after yes, professor...

"C'mon baby, I'm hungry!"

You giggled, shaking your head at Hwang Hyunjin, your boyfriend of three months. He tended to be whiny and dramatic at times, especially when he got hangry. But since you'd been his friend since before you started dating, you'd known what to expect.

But today, you had a special plan. Because you weren't just hungry for pizza.

You and Hyunjin had started dating back in January, around three months after you'd officially met during your first semester of senior year. The two of you had really connected over your love for the arts, being two creative people suffering through their one and only math course of their college career. You'd truly come to care about him not only as a friend, but as a potential soulmate, too.

There was really nothing wrong with your relationship, and you had zero complaints about him as a partner. He was sweet and attentive, smart and thoughtful, and he always made time for you. He especially loved setting up cute dates, from painting classes to movie nights. He was also incredibly passionate, always wanting to be near you, whether it be just touching and cuddling, or full-blown makeouts. He constantly gave you butterflies, a warm feeling in your stomach. And it certainly didn't hurt that he was irresistibly sexy.

But there was one thing that had been weighing on your mind for the past month or so. Even though your relationship was strong, and the romantic and sexual chemistry was hot, sizzling even, you had always left each sexual encounter... wanting more.

Because no matter how hard Hyunjin tried, he just couldn't make you cum.

Of course, he was always very apologetic and embarrassed, which was incredibly endearing. And really, you didn't mind that you couldn't finish. He was totally okay with you touching yourself instead, especially if he got to watch. But c'mon, what girl didn't want to cum at the same time as their gorgeous art major boyfriend?

Because at the end of the day, you knew why you were struggling. Every time you came close, hanging on that precipice, begging your body to just release, like clockwork... a certain glasses-clad math professor in a sexy dark sweater would invade your mind. A professor who didn't even teach you anymore. But no matter how long it had been since you'd spoken to him, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake the thoughts.

But tonight, you were determined to break the cycle. Tonight, you were going to enact a plan: seduce Hyunjin, and have the best sex of your life.

"Okay, okay!" You decided to play along with your hungry boyfriend's complaints for now, following him into his apartment, and laughing all the way to the kitchen. "I wouldn't want my handsome man to starve, after a long day of studying."

He nodded furiously. "Yeah, since you forced me to work, I deserve food!"

You rolled your eyes, slapping his arm playfully. "So me wanting to help you pass English Lit is forceful, now? What about you making me study Art Comp — an elective, might I add — for three hours straight, huh?"

Smirking, he squeezed your hand tightly. "You're right, baby. You deserve to eat too."

But before you could reach for the pizza, Hyunjin's hands, which had been holding yours tightly the entire way back from the campus library, wrapped around your waist, and lifted you onto the kitchen counter. He stepped between your legs and leaned in, so you were mere inches apart. "But first, I'd like my appetizer." He grinned, a silent request.

Your heart leapt. Maybe he was feeling just as horny as you were. Wearing a cozy black cable-knit sweater over a white collared button-up shirt, paired with black slacks and brown loafers, he looked absolutely delicious. How were you expected to resist? You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, taking his black-rimmed glasses and setting them on the counter so you could pull him closer.

He sighed happily against your mouth, and you brought your hands up to grip both sides of his face, pulling him to you. You melded together, tasting each other with a sweet, gentle passion. How could it be this early, and you were already experiencing such strong feelings for him? It just made your resolve to enact this plan even stronger.

Nipping your bottom lip playfully, he let go, carefully setting you back on the kitchen floor, but never releasing your hand. You wrapped an arm around his waist, curling into the warmth of his body. He smelled of clean laundry and wet paint, your favorite scent as of the past three months. When you breathed him in, a sense of calm blanketed your mind, and you smiled against him.

He kissed the top of your head as he served you a plate of pizza, then pulled a chair out and waited for you to sit, before settling in as well, grabbing a slice for himself. He took a bite, his free hand snaking down to your bare thigh and squeezing tight. The two of you ate in silence, your mind temporarily getting distracted by the need for food. The cheap cheese, the only thing you college students could afford, satisfied one of your cravings after a long day of studying. You closed your eyes and smiled, resting your head on his shoulder in contentment. He looked down and met your gaze, eyes filled with affection. "Was all that hard work worth it, baby?" he teased. "You look like you're in heaven."

You shrugged. "What? It's really good, don't you think?"

He chuckled, reaching out with a napkin to wipe some grease off the side of your face. "I just like seeing you happy. Oh, and I'm fucking starving! It makes even this crappy pizza taste amazing."

Wiping your mouth, you smiled in response. God, was he trying to tease you, by being the absolute best boyfriend in the world and wearing your absolute favorite outfit of his? It was time to get your plan rolling, because you wanted this man too damn badly.

Your hand came up, and you stroked his cheek gently. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. "You know Hyun, the pizza isn't the only thing that tastes amazing," you murmured, zeroing in on the splotch of pizza sauce on the edge of his lip. Leaning in, you licked it off, getting a taste of the tangy sauce, an intoxicating whiff of your boyfriend following it.

He visibly gulped, looking you up and down nervously. The back of his neck began to redden, but he grinned, trying to keep his cool. He was just too adorable when he got flustered, you thought with satisfaction.

You snatched up his hand and stood up. "You wanna find out what it is?" you asked coyly. "I hear that there's a very good boy who finished all his studies. I think he deserves something sweet as a reward."

Hyunjin's dark eyes lit up with excitement, and before you could react, he was standing up and snatching you into his arms bridal style, carrying you all the way to his bedroom.

"Hyun, you can't just take me away from my food like this!" you cried, playfully smacking his chest over and over. But you hid a smile against his shoulder. How did you know your plan would be so easy?

He smirked, tossing you onto the bed with just enough care so you wouldn't get hurt. "What? You said I would get a treat. If it's the treat I think it is, I would be a fool to dawdle." Then, he sat on the bed, and patted his lap. "Now, what were you saying about something being delicious and sweet, huh?"

"Okay, okay Mr. Impatient." You rolled your eyes. "But first, I want all this off." Motioning to his sweater and button-up combo, you grinned. "I wanna see how hot my boyfriend is."

"Oh really?" he inquired, brows raised. But without another word, he pulled his sweater over his head and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his slim, yet distractingly toned body. He'd only gotten more muscular since you started dating. He'd always been mouth-wateringly sexy, but with those sinewy arms and defined abs, it was a panty-wetter for sure.

You bit your lip as you visually devoured him. Reaching your arms out to him, you fisted each side of his open shirt, and pulled him towards you. "Okay Mr. Hwang, it's time for your special reward."

He fell into your embrace readily, hands carding through your hair, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, tugging him as close as possible. You cupped his face in both hands, before dipping your head to his, and engaging in a deep, intimate kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth, and they tangled together messily as he nibbled on your bottom lip, causing you to whine against him, begging for more.

"Already so needy, baby?" he teased, eyes narrowing playfully. "I thought you were giving me a present, not the other way around."

You pouted, beginning to grind against him uncontrollably, desperately seeking the friction his clothed crotch gave you. "Did you think I was just going to give up?" you huffed. Before he could reply, you climbed off his lap, and pushed him into the mattress, sliding down his body and unfastening the button on his slacks, tugging them off, along with his boxers.

His semi-hard cock, flushed and pretty, sprang forth immediately, and you grasped him firmly in one hand, admiring him. All pink and long, with a vein down the middle. You knew he went especially crazy when you licked that spot...

Hyunjin watched you, curious eyes shadowed with arousal. "If this is my reward, can I request something?" he asked, his voice turned deep and husky at the mere prospect of you pleasuring him.

You shrugged, nodding. "Sure baby, you can request anything you want."

"Take your top off, yeah? I can't be the only one without my clothes on, and I want to see your gorgeous body."

You obediently pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you exposed in your lacy black bra. Although you hadn't dressed up outwardly, having been studying for hours, this was part of your plan. So naturally, you had to wow him with his favorite pair of lingerie.

And judging from the way Hyunjin's cock instantly began swelling against your palm, your plan was working. He whistled quietly at the sight, starting to thrust himself in and out of your hand, moaning at the sensation.

"Fuck baby, did you wear that pretty number just for me?" He clenched his jaw as he gazed at you, using both of his elbows to prop himself up so he could observe your skilled ministrations.

You smirked, now using both hands to stroke him up and down. "Is there anything wrong with wanting to look pretty for my man?" you asked demurely, before opening your mouth and licking a stripe down the length of his gorgeous cock, marveling at the salty flavor of his precum, which had started beading from the tip and onto your hand.

"Fuck, don't tease me, angel," Hyunjin gritted out, squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation. "Show me how good your mouth is."

Spurred on by your boyfriend's praise, you took him all the way, sucking with vigor as you bobbed your head up and down, saliva dripping onto his stomach. Kneeling on the bed, you arched your back higher, so he could get a nice view of your ass as you worked.

"Shit, yes, just like that baby, I-I'm gonna fucking bust," Hyunjin stammered through swollen lips, fighting between closing his eyes and the desire to stare at you. "Look at your sexy little ass, in the air just for me. You're so hot." Unable to control himself, his hips began jerking up and down at a faster pace, and you began choking on his cock, as he forced it down your throat.

"Yes Hyun, use me however you want," you gasped around him, using your hands to stroke the base, which was slick with spit and precum. "Fuck, you're so big, I want you inside me right now."

"Yeah? You want your boyfriend to fuck you silly?" he panted in desperation, sweat shining on his forehead. "Then get your cute ass up here."

You hustled to lay on the bed, and Hyunjin knelt above you, his cock still fully hard and pulsing with desire. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him close to you, inviting his cock to rest at the entrance of your pussy. You were so wet, you were soaking through the sheets below you, begging to be fucked.

"Shit, you're really making a mess down there, sweetheart," Hyunjin murmured reverently, sliding the pad of his thumb against your cunt, forcing a desperate whimper from your lips.

"I'm only wet for you, Hyun." You batted your eyelashes at him enticingly, rubbing your pussy against his cock, reveling in the sensation of him against your sensitive nerves. "Please, fuck me?"

"Ah shit," Hyunjin scrubbed a hand down his face, before using his arms to brace himself over you. "How could I say no, when you just gave me the best gift ever?"

"It's not finished yet," you breathed, as you lined his cock up with your entrance, and, pushing your legs against his back, pulled him flush against you.

Taking this as permission, Hyunjin thrusted into you in one harsh movement, until he was balls deep in your tight heat. The air was instantly filled with your and his desperate moans, as he picked up speed, and he was pounding in and out of you, aided by your raised hips and pretty whimpers.

"Yes baby, yes," he panted, the bed shaking and creaking as he fucked in and out of you impossibly faster, wet slapping sounds proof of your arousal. "You fit me so well, squeeze me so tight."

"Please Hyun, touch me," you gasped, sliding your hands into his hair and pulling desperately. This was what happened every time. You would get so close and beg him to touch you, or kiss your neck, or suck your nipples. And he would, every time. But...

"Of course, beautiful," Hyunjin's rough fingers slipped between your legs, as he began rubbing that bundle of nerves vigorously. "Are you close, baby? I think I'm gonna cum, but I want to finish together this time." His hips shook as he tried to stave off his approaching orgasm.

You whimpered against him, burying your face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent. Grinding yourself frantically against his fingers and cock, neither of which had slowed, you silently begged yourself to get there, just finish so you could have your first ever orgasm at the same time as your boyfriend.

"And from now on, you will call me Professor."

Fuck. You took a sharp inhale of breath, cunt tightening as those words, words which had admittedly haunted you for six months, suddenly invaded your brain. And they always did, every time you had sex with Hyunjin.

"Baby, baby, baby, I-I cant hold off any longer-" Hyunjin gasped, before his hips stuttered, jerking a few times, and he finished inside of you with a few choked shudders.

"I-I'm sorry," you whispered, as your orgasm faded, your mind still stuck on a certain math professor. One you hadn't so much as spoken to in months.

Hyunjin deflated at your words. He knew that you had never finished properly with him. You cared too much about him to lie. But it hurt you to see him like this. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong!"

You pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "You're not doing anything wrong, babe. We'll figure it out."

But you were upset at yourself. Why was it that whenever you merely thought about Changbin in bed, you were immediately pulled out of whatever aroused state you were in, only thinking about him? Because... you'd never felt the way you had fucking him. Even if you had a perfect relationship with Hyunjin.

Had Changbin ruined all sex for you?

Or had you not gotten him out of your system yet?

—————————————

One week later...

You hustled down the hall towards your final class of the day, Advanced Syntax and Sentence Structure. It was one of your favorite courses, and you were always excited to attend.

But not today. No, today, you were in a terrible mood. You had been for the entire week.

Because all you could think about was the fact that you hadn't been able to properly orgasm for over three months. Was it too much to ask? To cum on your gorgeous boyfriend's cock? That was one of the many questions that had been circulating your brain during all waking hours. Along with, was this what having blue balls was like? If so, no wonder men got so touchy when they hadn't gotten laid.

But the real — and perhaps more disconcerting — conundrum was the fact that you couldn't stop comparing your sex life with Hyunjin to your past foray with Changbin. And even more infuriating still? You'd only slept with that gorgeous buff, domineering, smart man once. He was a little, but not too much, older. And yet, he seemed more mature, and seemed to understand a woman's body better than anyone your age. And potentially because of that, you couldn't stop thinking about that single day in his classroom.

And what you hated the most was that you would never get to be with him, ever again.

It wasn't that you didn't want to be with Hyunjin. Quite the opposite, in fact. You wanted to be with him for the long haul. You thought you could even see yourself falling in love with him. But as confident as he was, he wasn't as sexually experienced as some of your past partners. And certainly not as experienced as Changbin.

"He could learn a thing or two from him..." you muttered before you even realized what you'd said, eyes narrowed as you stared down at your shoes. You regretted that thought, wishing you could just banish your hot former professor from your mind.

But before you could second guess your thoughts any further, you ran headfirst into something. Something much too warm and solid.

—————————————

Changbin was overwhelmed.

It was the final month of the last semester, and finals were quickly approaching. He was teaching five courses, the maximum number of classes a professor could take on in a semester. At the time, he thought it would be a breeze. Now, he was dearly regretting that decision.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose when they slipped down, his gaze buried in his papers while he walked. On top of all his regular responsibilities, a fellow professor and friend had fallen ill, and asked Changbin to sub for their class. He was in the English building, heading there now. In one hand, he held the class's lecture, which he hadn't read. In the other was the Calculus 3000 tests he'd given last week, and had yet to grade, his briefcase around his forearm. He took any free moment to remove a bit of his workload.

Just as he was switching from his lecture to grading the test midair, the wind was knocked out of him, as something — or someone — ran headfirst into him.

"Ah shit!" Changbin grunted, his papers spilling to the floor in a messy heap. Dammit, that was going to take at least a half hour to sort through, he thought grumpily.

"Oh geez, I'm so sorry! God, what a mess of a day..."

Changbin finally looked away from his papers, and back at the person who had run into him. His heart was suddenly thudding out of his chest, tongue feeling wrong in his mouth. Because he would recognize that voice anywhere.

"M-Miss English Major," he croaked, his words broken and awkward. He could feel heat rising up his neck, as he took in the sight of you for the first time in almost five months.

He'd never stopped thinking about you, even after all this time. Whether he was at home alone with nothing but his hand (doing less than savory things), or just sitting in his classroom, exhausted (don't worry, he wouldn't taint that room without you), his thoughts couldn't help but drift back to you. Not only had you shown him what mind-blowingly amazing sex was, but you were also an incredible person. He'd told you the truth, months ago. He'd never met anyone like you. And he still hadn't. And if his body, especially late at night, was anything to go off of, he still wanted you, badly.

But while his memory of that single afternoon with you was clear as a freshly polished window, the intricate details of you had faded overtime. So seeing you now was a punch to the gut, one he would welcome, over and over again.

Because hell, you looked amazing. Even better than what his fantasies continually conjured up. The furrow between your eyebrows when you were distressed, the nape of your neck where a single freckle sat, or your addictive smell, one of orchids and new books.

And your body. He swallowed hard, that lump staying lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Dressed in some kind of distressingly tight cropped t-shirt with the words "Cute Girls Club" written across the tits, he couldn't help but ogle you. Jesus, you were just walking around like that, for everyone to see? And you were doing this, while he sat oblivious, for months? He ground his teeth together in poorly pent-up frustration. How was he getting jealous over you, while you probably hadn't thought about him once? He should really get his shit together, and go to class.

But your eyes were his downfall. That gaze of yours flicked to his, filled with apology (why were you sorry, again?) and... something else. A darkness, one that wasn't there last he saw you. He frowned, all thoughts of abandoning you gone. He carefully studied your features, ones that he'd known so well, terrified that he might forget, or worse, never see again.

Was something wrong?

Your words from a few moments prior echoed in his mind. "God, what a mess of a day..." And upon closer inspection, there was a tension around your eyes, your mouth. Like it was a struggle just to smile.

"Professor Seo." You nodded at him, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. That tempting, delicious mouth. Changbin tracked the movement hungrily. You averted your gaze, cheeks rosy, like you knew what he was doing. But the mere thought that he might have flustered you flooded him with a sense of relief and pride. But he could still see something was wearing on you.

"Are you okay?" He leaned down so his face was level with yours. Your eyes widened, and he had the urge to grab you, and hold you to him, just for the chance to feel your body again. How had he endured this long outside of your presence?

You shook your head, laughing weakly. "Oh, it's nothing. I wouldn't want to bother you with my stupid shit. Thank you though, Professor." And with that, you made to duck out of his way, and down the hall.

"Wait!" The word flew from his mouth accidentally, but he didn't regret it. Because you turned back around, that tired look still encasing your breathtaking qualities.

"Yes, Professor?" you asked softly. Just the sound of you saying those words brought back an entourage of memories, one that threatened to destroy him. His cock twitched in his pants, and he casually covered himself with his briefcase. Fuck, he could not be getting turned on in the middle of campus, right before class.

He paused. He hadn't thought of what else to say, he just knew that you couldn't leave, not again. "I know we haven't talked in awhile but... you can always tell me what's going on."

You stood there for a few seconds, pondering his offer. The two of you really had gotten to know each other over the semester you had taken his class. He hoped that you felt the same.

"I-it's nothing," you repeated, but there was a quaver of anger hidden in those words. "It's just stuff with my boyfriend. I'm just, well, I'm frustrated-"

But Changbin didn't hear anything past the word "boyfriend". His fists balled themselves at his sides, his breathing came fast and shallow, as he worked his jaw up and down so hard, he felt like his teeth might break. Red colored his vision.

So you had a boyfriend. Who the hell was he? Who had taken his girl from right under his nose? Hadn't the two of you connected like no one ever had? It had felt like soulmate shit, at least to him.

But he supposed he hadn't made another move on you, after your singular rendezvous. And no matter how absolutely incredible it had been, he couldn't expect you to wait around for months. And since you were his student, and he'd been very skittish about any kind of relationship with you before he'd snapped like a taut rubber band, he couldn't blame you if you thought he'd changed his mind again. Maybe even thought he regretted his decision to fuck you in the first place.

But that was so opposite from the truth, it made his chest hurt. He had to do something to rectify it. To get you back. Because you were his girl, weren't you? But what could he do?

"Who is it?" he seethed, voice much angrier than he meant it. But he was just so fucking pissed, and even a little humiliated, that he had his chance, and fumbled, horrifically.

You stared at him, stunned. "You know him," you began. "Hyunjin? We've been together for three months now."

"Oh, the Hwang boy," Changbin scoffed, internally begging his mouth to close, for the next words not to be uttered. But jealousy spurred him on. "Well, there's your problem. There's no way he's satisfying you."

Fuck, he groaned. That was sure to be the end, right? The end of this conversation, the end of a potential re-connection with you. You were going to cuss him out and walk away, never to be seen by him again. His jealousy probably just ruined something that could have been great.

But you didn't do any of that. You just gaped at him, open-mouthed and lost for words. "Well, I- y-you don't know anything!" you stammered, cheeks bright red. "W-why would you think that??"

Changbin paused, caught off guard. Was he... onto something? Was that Hwang boy not satisfying his queen? His beautiful, smart, creative English Major? Were you trying your best to be fulfilled, only for your boyfriend to fall short? Were you sexually frustrated? Yet another onslaught of dirty thoughts berated his mind, of you whimpering and begging your boyfriend to give you an orgasm, and every time, being denied.

That just wouldn't do. He set his jaw, eyes narrowed with misplaced anger. At you, for leaving him. And the Hwang boy, for taking the woman he was just starting to realize the depths of his feelings for. And that jealousy started to coil deep in his stomach, a viper, ready to strike at this golden opportunity.

No, Changbin, he inwardly warned himself. You can't say what you're thinking right now. That would be inappropriate, and grossly assuming that your feelings were anywhere near the same as his. You had a boyfriend, for fuck's sake. There was no way you wanted him anymore. It had been months ago. Things had changed.

He really should go.

"You know, if you're asking for advice... I recommend a more hands-on approach." Shut up Changbin, shut the fuck up.

But again, you didn't leave. Your eyes just flicked back and forth, and you chewed on your lower lip, like you were actually contemplating it.

After another painstaking ten seconds, you spoke. "Do you have a piece of paper?" you asked, eyes zeroing in on the humongous pile still on the floor.

"Oh! Uh, yeah of course!" Changbin practically fell to the ground, scrambling to pick up his papers, trying to look semi-put together while doing so. He snatched up a page from his lecture notes, trying not to let nerves and confusion take over his senses.

You slowly pulled a pen out from the inside of your shirt. Did you store pens in your bra? He salivated at the thought, and his cock stiffened in his pants once again. Dammit, how many times would he get a boner in a mere ten minutes spent around you?

When you realized he was staring, you swallowed. "Uh, English major things," you said hastily, before handing him the pen, face so flushed and pretty, he wished he could reach out and kiss it. When he stared at you dumbly, you added, "Write your number on it. I'll text you." You smiled nervously at him. "If you're serious about your offer, that is."

Changbin had never written anything faster in his entire life. You took the paper from his hand, and he swore you brushed your fingers against his on purpose. A cold sweat broke out across his body, sick satisfaction filling him.

Holy hell, what had he just gotten himself into?

—————————————

You'd always considered yourself to be a reasonably intelligent human being. But making rash decisions, fueled entirely by emotion? That was your fatal character flaw. And today was no different.

But how could any girl with eyes deny Seo Changbin, especially when he was looking sexy as hell in his usual sweater and slacks combo, paired with those glasses that made him look like a big, sexy nerd? His hair was all mussed, and he had heavy eye bags, probably due to lack of sleep and finals fast approaching. And something about that haggard, hardworking professor was your undoing.

And don't even get you started on when he practically started begging you to let him sleep with you one more time, as if he hadn't gotten enough the first time. Damn him for showing up at the same time that you were lusting after him!

So yeah, you were just going to blame this whole messy situation on Changbin. That made everything easier.

Well, not everything. You still had to find a way to breach the subject with your boyfriend.

Of course, you could just pretend that the conversation between you and Changbin never happened, and just go about your life with Hyunjin like normal. And a large part of you, the cowardly part, wanted to do just that.

But a much darker, hungrier side of you wanted this. Desperately. Possibly even needed it. It wasn't that you weren't absolutely obsessed with your boyfriend. Your desperation was, in part, because you were obsessed with him. You wanted this relationship to work so badly, that you were concocting insane ways to help him fully satisfy you.

Something as insane as asking your past hookup to teach Hyunjin how to pleasure you. Because oh, what a remarkable job he'd done at it. Your cheeks warmed at the thought.

Now, you were leaving campus after class, and heading to Hyunjin's apartment. He'd said he was making dinner tonight, and you were both excited and apprehensive to see the result. But the thing that was really stressing you out was deciding how to broach the conundrum you'd landed yourself in, which also happened to be a taboo topic.

You knocked on the door, and you heard a clatter of pots and pans come from within. But you knew you were truly nervous, because you couldn't even focus on the idea of Hyunjin's cooking chaos. You needed to get this conversation over with, now.

"Baby!" Hyunjin shoved the door open, a huge grin on his face. Something red was splattered across his nose, and a waft of tomato sauce emanated from inside. He grabbed your hand, and pulled you into the kitchen, where a pot of sauce was bubbling on the stove, next to some browned ground beef. He grinned, pointing at it proudly. "How does it look?? Amazing, right??"

You smiled, unable to hide your relief. Both at seeing him so happy, and the fact there was no visible mess, yet. "It looks delicious. Is it almost ready?"

He nodded. "The pasta is in the strainer over there, can you grab it for me?"

The two of you finished making dinner together, laughing and talking about how your day went. There was no way you could bring up your conversation with Changbin now, right? You didn't think you could bear to see that gorgeous smile of Hyunjin's slide off his face when he heard that you'd been lusting after another man. Your stomach turned over at the thought. No, you would wait until after dinner.

"As you know, I presented my second art final today!" Hyunjin was babbling, mouth full of spaghetti and meat sauce. "And I have to say, I think mine was one of the best. Not because it was a masterpiece or anything, but some of the others really sucked! Sorry, that sounds rude. They were uh... not good!"

You tried to stay engaged with his story, but your thoughts kept straying, attempting to put together a script of what to say when you inevitably had to confess.

"Baby? Baby? Babyyyy?"

You snapped back to reality. Hyunjin was waving his pasta-filled fork in front of your face, a pout on his lips.

"Ah! Sorry, what were you saying?" you asked, smiling innocently.

He frowned, jabbing the utensil in your face accusingly. "You weren't listening to me?? Babe, what's up? You always listen to all of my stories!"

"I know Hyun, I'm sorry." You reached out and took his hand. Yours was sweaty, so he was sure to know something was wrong. "Today was a... weird day."

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, expression now one of concern. "Weird? How? Tell me!"

So you proceeded to explain how you'd run into Changbin, and relayed the conversation you'd had. Hyunjin knew about your history with Changbin, because you'd told him about it when you'd become close.

So far, he didn't seem to mind that Changbin had asked about your sex life. That was a start. But before you could tell him the insane proposition Changbin had made, you stopped short, cheeks reddening at the thought.

"And?" Hyunjin prompted. "I can tell there's more. After your history, he can't have just walked away."

"No, he didn't," you mumbled, steeling yourself for the big reveal. "He... well, he basically offered to help us out, if we needed it. You know, in bed. And I might have... asked him for his number." You covered your face, as you felt like melting on the spot.

Hyunjin sat next to you, the silence stretching painfully. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed yours, squeezing tightly.

Stunned, you uncovered your eyes, chancing a peek at him. And Hyunjin was... smiling? At you? You took your hands away from your face entirely, gaping at him in surprise. You hadn't expected his reaction. What was his reaction?

"Don't leave me hanging here, Hyun," you managed, laughing shakily as you gripped his hand like a lifeline.

The hint of a smile curled into a full-on grin as he spoke. "You want to have a threesome with Professor Seo, baby?"

You groaned, face bright scarlet. "I-I don't know, I wanted to talk to you first! I haven't texted him, or anything. But..."

"But you haven't been able to cum with me," he prompted. "And... you did with him, right?"

You nodded imperceptibly, unable to utter a word.

"Do you still want to be with me?"

You jerked your head furiously. "Yes! Yes, always, Hyun. I've never connected with anyone more, and I care about you so much. I would only want to do this if you wanted to! I don't want you to think that-"

He laughed, shaking his head. "No I know baby, me too. I just wanted to make sure. Because... I've always thought it would be hot to see you with another guy. Did I ever think it would be my former math professor? Hell no. But if I could join too, then I would do anything to make you happy."

Your eyes widened further, and it felt like your heart was going to explode, as you stared, speechless, at your boyfriend. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Did he... want to do this? Not just for you, but for his pleasure as well?

"S-so you're saying that-" you stumbled over your words.

Hyunjin leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "Go text him, baby."

changbin

ms. english major

hi changbin

changbin

is this ms. english major?

ms. english major

wow, didn't expect you

to reply so quickly

changbin

well, what is it?

ms. english major

hyunjin and i talked

he agreed to it

changbin

oh really? and?

ms. english major

why don't you come over to

hyun's place tomorrow night? 9pm?

changbin

wow, just assuming i'm

free anytime you want?

ms. english major

...

i'll send you the address.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Was Changbin making a dreadful mistake?

Standing outside the door of Hyunjin's — your current boyfriend's — apartment, a wave of self doubt threatened to crash over him. Had he completely screwed up agreeing to share a taken woman? He never thought he would find himself in a situation even close to this. He wouldn't do this for anyone.

But you were different. You were you. Creative and witty, passionate in a way he'd never before witnessed, in both life goals and in bed. And on top of it all, he'd connected with you on another level. And now, he couldn't get you out of his head. This would all be worth it to sleep with you one more time.

So he reached his hand up, and knocked on the door.

After a solid twenty seconds, where Changbin could hear nothing except the terrified thudding of his own heart, the door swung open, and... there you stood. Donning nothing but a white silk robe, and a crafty smile.

"Come in, Professor," you said, voice soft and sultry, words dripping like honey off your full, cherry-red lips.

Changbin gulped, following you into the living room, mouth dry. In the soft orange light and the mystery of the night, you looked so delectable, he wanted to pry your legs open and take you right there, on the brown leather couch.

"This is Hyunjin's apartment." You swept your arms around the space, flashing him a flirty grin that had his stomach clenching with desire. "Not that you'll be seeing much of it, outside of the bedroom."

Changbin closed his eyes, trying not to pop a blood vessel from the boner already growing in his pants. Taking a precursory look around, he was impressed with the aesthetic Hyunjin had managed to curate on a college student budget. A mix of artsy and chic, with a smattering of eclectic colors that somehow all harmonized with one another, it truly looked like a home. It was much cozier than Changbin's townhome, which featured a lone picture of him and his close friends at the beach last year, and one gray couch in the living room.

The abode of a true bachelor, he sighed to himself. If he ever wanted to invite you over, he would have to spruce it up, majorly.

The two of you entered the bedroom, where Hyunjin was sitting at a desk, tapping away on his phone like this was just your average evening. Did you do this often? The disturbing idea forced its way into his mind.

You smiled at him again, and the thought dissolved instantly. Hyunjin looked up, and immediately set his phone down, a look of apprehension and cautious excitement crossing his face. Was he just as nervous as Changbin?

"Well, since this is our first time doing anything like this," you began, answering his question, "Hyun and I just want to make sure that you're sure that you're comfortable, and you want to do this. A-and we wanted to let you know that we're open to anything, since you're helping us. Right, babe?" You cut a glance at Hyunjin.

The man nodded, swallowing thickly. "Yeah, I want to pleasure my girl. And... she said she had a great time with you before." He ducked his head.

"And he doesn't mind sharing me, for the night," you added quietly, blushing prettily.

Changbin bit his lip to keep from groaning aloud. Fuck, how did you know exactly how to turn him on?

"Well, if you two are comfortable, then so am I," he started, turning to you, his voice lowering an octave, deep and hoarse. "As long as you're willing to follow my instructions."

You immediately snapped to attention at his tone change, back going taut as a coiled spring. "Y-yes, Professor. Anything you want."

Hyunjin watched with dark eyes, as he ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck baby, I didn't know rough language turned you on so much. I like it."

"So, what's the real problem here?" Changbin asked, wondering exactly how much he could squeeze out of this little deal. "Is it him eating you out? The sex? Both?"

"It's not the sex itself," you paused, chewing your lower lip. "It's just that I can't cum. I-I don't know why, but I just can't get there."

Changbin nodded slowly. "Well, why don't we see what we're working with, huh?" He pointed at Hyunjin. "Show me how you eat her out."

You smiled at him, lip wobbling from nerves. "Before we start, I have a little surprise for you. For both of you."

Changbin watched, entranced, as you slowly removed your robe, body moving oh-so-sensually, revealing matching white and red lace lingerie that left nothing to the imagination. The lace across your perky breasts, the ribbons gracing your silky thighs, everything made his mouth water. You smiled, a sultry look, directly at Changbin, and he was instantly brought back to that day in his classroom, when he'd finally given in to the temptation to take you. That day had been a blur of hot red, as he blindly followed every urge he felt.

As he grabbed you around the waist and pushed you into the mattress, planting a hard, searing kiss to your awaiting lips, it felt even better than that day. You were no longer in your school clothes. You were dressed so pretty, all for him. And he would take anything you were willing to give.

And give you did. Wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer, moaning so sexily against his lips, slipping your tongue into his mouth, you tasted of a desperation that he lapped up like syrup. Your hands slid into his hair and tugged, as the two of you explored one another like it was simultaneously the first time, and the one hundredth.

"I missed you, Professor," you whispered breathlessly, pupils blown wide as you finally broke the kiss. "I was scared you wouldn't agree to come tonight."

He grinned, releasing you and allowing Hyunjin to take his place. "I could never say no to another chance with you, beautiful."

Hyunjin knelt in front of you, licking his lips eagerly. "My irresistible baby," he crooned at you, pulling the white thong to the side and running his thumb through your already soaked cunt.

You whimpered, immediately becoming putty beneath your boyfriend's touch. Sliding a hand into Hyunjin's long, wavy hair, you tugged him closer, lip pulled between your teeth, waiting with baited breath. "Please Hyun, your tongue," you begged.

Changbin watched with reverence, trying to memorize every little reaction, every movement you made.

Hyunjin acquiesced to your pleas without question, shoving his head between your legs as he opened his mouth, latching onto your clit and sucking hard. His fingers worked in tandem with his tongue, as they both fucked in and out of you with abandon.

Your hips bucked against his ministrations, incoherent words of desperation spilling from your lips as you reached for Changbin, eyes watery and filled with need. A sheen of sweat already glistened across your forehead, and Changbin was at your side in an instant, pressing kisses against you, relishing the salty taste.

"You like that huh, sweetheart?" he growled, a deep rumble in his throat, as he moved his lips down your neck, across your collarbone, and to your breasts. "You like the feeling of your boyfriend eating your wet little pussy, while your professor sucks your nipples?"

You cried out, and Hyunjin only increased his movements in response, the wet squelching of your cunt mixing with your garbled moans. Changbin latched onto a raised nipple and sucked harshly, biting at them, and making you squirm with sensitivity beneath his grasp. Hyunjin continued to fuck his tongue in and out of you, his fingers stroking you desperately.

You gripped Changbin's arms, and he knew your orgasm was looming closer and closer. You squeezed your eyes shut, hands moving to his hair and pulling as you wrapped your legs around Hyunjin's head, entire body shaking violently.

"Y-yes, right there!" you pleaded, rocking your hips, hungry for more. Your gaze locked on Changbin, hot with lust, and his cock twitched in response. "Please, don't stop!"

Hyunjin moaned raggedly against you, sending vibrations shivering through your sensitive nerves. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how amazing it felt, your orgasm... subsided. Disappeared. You whimpered softly, heart sinking.

"Did you cum, love?" Hyunjin asked after a moment. But he already knew the answer. You hesitated, then shook your head.

"It looked like you were really enjoying it," Changbin mused, pressing another kiss to your chest and standing up. "And not to be weird, but I think he was doing a good job."

"Do you like it when Professor Seo says mean things to you, baby?" Hyunjin interrupted, continuing to rub gentle circles against your soaked pussy. "Every time he said something mean, you practically gushed on my tongue."

You averted your gaze, cheeks red. But you nodded anyway. "Yes, I think... I think when he's mean to me, I get really turned on," you whispered, finally meeting Hyunjin's gaze. "I think it really pushes me over the edge."

Changbin nodded slowly, finally starting to understand. "Gorgeous?" he barked, and you stared at him with those wide, alluring eyes. He had to tear his gaze from yours to continue. "Hyunjin? You said you were willing to learn. Why don't you watch?" Changbin held his breath, hoping that Hyunjin wouldn't call him on his shit. Because if he was being honest, he wanted you to himself, just this once.

Hyunjin paused, glancing at you in askance. You nodded silently, sending him an encouraging smile. With a jerk of his head, he moved slightly off to the side, while also giving himself a good view of what was happening.

"I'm only doing it because my girlfriend wants this," Hyunjin warned. "And because I have no idea why she can't finish. I want to please her."

Changbin chuckled. "Of course. And I'm here to help." With that, he grabbed both of your legs and spread them wide, positioning his hips between yours, leaning down, and capturing your lips with his.

You moaned loudly against him, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, and grinding your soaked pantie-clad pussy against his pants. "Can I take your shirt off, Professor?" you whispered breathlessly, fingers already tugging at the hem.

He nodded, the heat of embarrassment and pride climbing up his neck. He helped you remove his shirt, and then unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants off, sighing in relief. His cock had been pressing against the confines of his jeans since he arrived.

You rubbed your hand against his cock through his boxers, before expertly tugging them off, and stroking him to full hardness. He gritted his teeth so hard they hurt, his eyes shut tight as he tried to reign in some semblance of self control. He'd missed you so desperately, he ached.

"Don't tease me, you little slut," he ground out, hips rocking against your touch insistently.

"I'm not doing anything!" You blinked up at him, a devilish smile on your face, continuing to pump him, heavy in your hand. Fuck. His cock swelled further. You really were just a minx, weren't you?

"I'm warning you, kitten," he hissed, eyes narrowed. When you didn't stop, he grabbed both of your hands, and pinned them by the wrists over your head, ignoring your squeals of protest. "That's it, I told you," he spat, positioning himself outside your entrance, which was dripping onto the blankets.

"P-please Professor!" you gasped, panting with need. "Fuck me, please."

"You don't deserve it, spiting me like a whore," he snapped. But he was so fucking turned on, he couldn't tease you for long. With a strangled growl, he filled you with one thrust, knees buckling at the heavenly sensation of your tight heat enveloping him, like you were made to fit his length.

"God yes Professor, please fuck me faster." You clung to his arms, tears streaming down your face as you dug your heels into his back, pushing him deeper inside you.

He nearly choked on his words, stars winking across his vision, as he began pounding in and out of you, balls slapping your pussy, the bed rocking with the power of his movements. "Fuck yes, take it," he snarled. "You'll take everything I give you." Was this what heaven felt like? You were so warm, molded to him so perfectly. His hips snapped against yours, all that pent-up tension spurring him on as he gave you everything he'd fantasized about over all these months.

"O-oh yes, whatever you want Professor," you panted, warm cunt spasming around his rock hard cock. "Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum, please Professor, can I cum?" You reached your hand out to Hyunjin, and he immediately accepted, as you gazed pleadingly up at them both.

Without you having to ask, Changbin slid a hand down to your drenched, swollen clit. He rubbed fiercely until you were trembling against him, gasping in pleasure. Hyunjin watched, entranced, which sent a thrill of excitement zipping through Changbin, spurring him to pick up speed. God, you felt so fucking good. How had he spent this many months without indulging himself in your glorious body?

You clung to his muscular arms, sobbing and babbling his name incoherently, pussy contracting, hips shuddering. Changbin could feel his orgasm coming, but he staved it off. He couldn't finish already, in the first round. He was doing this for you and your pleasure.

"Cum for us, pretty girl," he commanded, punctuated with a harsh slap to your ass. "Cum like the slut you are."

You cried out, cunt so tight it felt like you were suffocating him. He couldn't breath, as you shook like a leaf, body taught, mouth opened in a wide "o". Your hand slid into his hair, tugging, as your hips shook and jerked uncontrollably.

"F-fuck Professor, Hyun!" And with a wail, you finally toppled over the long-awaited edge, clinging to both men as you fell apart around Changbin's pulsing cock.

He fucked you through it, gently stroking your clit, and reveling in your shivering, sweaty perfection, until you whimpered from overstimulation. He gently pulled out, and allowed Hyunjin to switch places, and hold you.

"Oh my god," you panted, curling into your boyfriend's arms, catching your breath. "That was- that was amazing."

"So what do you think, Hyunjin?" Changbin tried to act nonchalant, like he hadn't just had world-implodingly incredible sex. There was no way around it. He was addicted, and he needed more. But he had to stay true to his word, and give Hyunjin his turn. "Are you ready to try it yourself?"

Hyunjin paused, gazing down lovingly at you in a way that made Changbin's heart squeeze. "So, you like it when Professor Seo says mean things to you..." he said again. He slowly began removing his shirt, your eyes tracking him hungrily.

You nodded, cheeks still flushed with post-sex elation. "I don't know why, but I think it's really hot," you murmured.

Hyunjin brushed a strand of hair from your eyes. Then, he spoke.

"From now on, you will call me sir."

The atmosphere immediately changed, like all the oxygen was sucked out of the room. You stared at your boyfriend, usually such a sweet person, in shock. Changbin hid a laugh. Apparently, Hyunjin had caught onto the fact that you loved calling him "professor" in bed, and got turned on by the degrading nicknames and occasional spanking. But a single nickname wouldn't be enough to truly please you in bed. He would have to act the part, too.

But apparently, Changbin had no reason to be concerned.

"Climb on up here, and fuck me like the slut you are," Hyunjin demanded, slapping your ass, as he watched you expectantly.

"Y-yes sir!" You scrambled to follow his demands, eyes still huge with nervous excitement. You unzipped Hyunjn's pants, and helped him strip off his boxers, allowing his long, pretty cock to spring free. He tugged his shirt off, and you stared in awe at his muscled torso. Changbin smirked down at you in satisfaction. At the end of the day, you just wanted to be dominated.

"Okay angel, start grinding that wet little pussy all over him, okay?" Changbin instructed, wanting to see how you would react to him controlling the situation.

You whined, but nodded, spreading your legs and rubbing yourself all over your boyfriend, causing him to grit out a moan, eyes squeezed shut, as pleasure washed over him.

"And since she likes you to dominate her, maybe adjust her to where you want her, before fucking her," Changbin prodded Hyunjin, who immediately opened his eyes, and grabbed your hips with rough hands.

"Yeah, right there," Hyunjin hissed, pressing you harder against his length, which was aching between your slender thighs, as he moved you against him. "Be a good girl, and let me fuck you how I want."

Your lip wobbled, and you nodded, clinging to the threads of your desire. "Y-yes Hyun- I mean, sir. Please take me now."

Hyunjin's eyes flicked over to Changbin, who just eyed him intently. With that silent approval, Hyunjin lined himself up outside of your aching cunt, and drove himself home, filling you to the brim.

Instantaneously, the room was filled with a chorus of both of your moans. You gripped his slim arms tightly, leaving moon-shaped crescents on his skin, as his veins became more prominent beneath your hands. He growled raggedly against your ear and his hips snapped up against yours, power growing and growing, as you cried into his chest.

"Y-yes, fuck me harder!" you begged, tears wetting your lash line.

"What do you call me, my little slut?" Hyunjin ground out, possessive gaze burning a trail across your skin.

"S-sir, please!" you implored, pressing repeated kisses across his hard pecs. "More!"

"Touch her," Changbin ordered. "She's shaking like a little bitch, it'll make her fall apart around you."

Hyunjin reached a hand between your legs, rubbing rough circles across your aching clit, causing you to shudder and grind yourself needily against him.

"Be gentler, she'll get rug burn if you go much faster," Changbin snapped, and Hyunjin slowed down, stroking you with a tender touch.

"O-oh fuck, I think I'm close!" you gasped, chest wracked with sobs of pleasure as you bounced yourself on your boyfriend's cock, squeezing him so tight he struggled to breathe. "Please don't stop sir, please! Can I- can I cum-"

"Yes angel, cum on me like the whore you are," Hyunjin bit the shell of your earlobe, not relinquishing his relentlessly fast pace in and out of you.

You tumbled over the edge, mouth open on a soundless cry, nails digging deep into his arms, as you trembled around him so violently, he had to grip you hard to keep you stable, lights winking in front of your eyes as you reveled in the sensation of your boyfriend balls-deep inside you. Your pussy was made for him, made for Changbin. Made for the two of them. Small whines of Hyunjin's name were the only things to escape your kiss-swollen lips, as you rode out your high.

Hyunjin's hips stuttered as you came, the warmth and wetness of your perfect little pussy squeezing him so tight, milking him dry. He thrusted his hips messily in and out of you a couple more times, before spurting a load of white liquid into you, fucking the mix of both of your cum into your tired body.

You collapsed on top of him, a sweaty, but satisfied mess. "You-you-" you babbled softly, reaching up and running a hand through his hair adoringly. You glanced up at Changbin, a shy smile on your face.

Changbin grinned down at you, a bit uncomfortable. Should he still be here? "How was that, love?" he asked, voice a deep rasp.

"I-it was amazing Professor," you breathed, a look of wonder in your eyes. "Thank you."

Hyunjin glanced at Changbin, an uncertain look crossing his face. "Would you like to... join us?" he offered, glancing at you fleetingly. "I bet she'd enjoy it. You're down for another round, right angel?"

You turned around, having been kissing up and down Hyunjin's sweaty neck. You stared up at Changbin with a look that had his cock instantly springing to life, and a groan rising in his throat. "I would love for you to join, Professor," you breathed, presenting your ass to him like a dessert on a platter, smiling coquettishly at Hyunjin. You added, "I'm always ready, if it's with both of you."

"Well shit," Changbin growled, striding over, hands clenched at his sides. "How could I say no to that?"

You climbed back onto Hyunjin's lap and gripped his cock, already ready for a second round. You lined up his hard cock outside of your pussy, which was still dripping wet. You closed your eyes, biting your lower lip in anticipation, before slowly impaling yourself on his perfect length.

The two of you let out simultaneous moans of delight, as you began bouncing up and down on top of him, the slapping sounds filling the room, as you squealed and whimpered with tantalizing desire.

Hyunjin grabbed your ass, fucking you over and over on his length, moving you rapidly, in tune with his own pleasure. "Fuck, you're an eager little slut tonight, aren't you?" he hissed, eyes glazed over with unbridled ecstasy, as he drank in the sensation of your pussy clenching around him.

"Fuck me harder, sir!" you whined, hands pressing into his broad chest, as you looked back at Changbin, who was drinking in the sight before him with relish. "Professor, aren't you going to join in? I've always wanted a thick cock inside my ass."

A rumble vibrated inside his throat. From the sound of it, you'd never been fucked by two guys at the same time, and not at all in your ass. Maybe you'd even dreamed about it being him. And the mere idea of that had him seeking a bottle of lube, which sat on your nightstand, and starting to prep the two of you. His heart thudded in his chest, just thinking about how tight you would be.

"If my perfect babygirl wants me there, then I'm happy to oblige," he growled through the pleasure, and you shook your ass at him in response, as you continued to roll your hips against Hyunjin, teasing desperate moans and hitched breaths from his lips.

He began running his pointer finger against the puckered entrance, and you trembled beneath him, clenching around Hyunjin, who growled a curse.

"Relax, baby," Changbin crooned, inching his finger slowly inside of you. "I need to stretch you out before you can even hope to take me."

You choked on a gasp at the foreign sensation, trying to turn around and look. But Hyunjin gripped your jaw to keep you facing him, as he continued thrusting in and out of your pussy, his movements becoming sloppier by the second. So instead, you tangled your hands in your boyfriend's long hair, desperate, ragged sobs muffled by his chest, as he continued to have his way with you.

"Does that feel good, angel?" Hyunjin stroked the flawless skin of your back, as he snapped his hips up against yours, keeping a cruel pace despite the fact you'd gone boneless on top of him.

You let out a broken moan, nodding your head as you pressed feverish kisses to neck, and down his chest. Hyunjin shuddered at your touch, continuing to pound into your ruined cunt.

"Just like that, baby," Changbin praised, kneading the soft skin of your ass, as he gently removed his finger, and inched the tip of his cock past the tight ring of your hole. He trembled at the sensation, vision going foggy with pleasure as he rocked his hips further against you, until he was halfway inside.

"A-ah shit Bin- I mean, Professor!" you cried, clenching around him instinctively. "Fuck, you're huge."

"You'll take him, like the slut you are," Hyunjin barked, pulling your hair so you met his gaze. "I bet you like him stretching out your ass like that, huh?"

"I-I-" you stammered, face reddening. "Y-yes sir, I love it," you croaked, voice cracking, as pleasure threatened to overwhelm you.

"Tell him what you want," Hyunjin prompted, and you keened against him, arms wrapped around his neck as pleasure thrummed in your veins.

You slowly turned around to face Changbin, who swallowed hard. He was desperately trying to fend off his already incoming orgasm, but that fucked out look you were giving him was making it damn near impossible.

"Please go deeper, Professor," you whimpered, voice throatier and more strained than he'd ever heard. "Don't be gentle, I can take it."

"Fuck, kitten," Changbin uttered, steeling himself for the blinding pleasure that was sure to come. With that, he rolled his hips against your plush ass, and buried himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust.

The movement drove Hyunjin's cock even deeper inside of your aching pussy, causing the man to let out a surprised, guttural moan. He hit the soft spongy part inside of you that until now, only Changbin had found, and you were shuddering and begging for more, both from the foreign sensation of two men inside of you, and the euphoria of your boyfriend pleasuring you like he never had.

Fuck, this was going to kill him, was all that echoed through Changbin's muddled mind as he slammed in and out, lost in the suffocating tightness of you, the way you smelled, looked, sounded, as he destroyed you. Even as you clenched around him, he didn't let up his pace, pulling out all the way, only to drive himself home each time. No woman had affected him in the least. Now, he couldn't help but become drunk on your very essence.

"Sir, Professor, I think I'm close," you whimpered, words slurring together you writhed between them, pussy contracting around Hyunjin like a vice. "C-can I cum now?"

"I'm close too," Hyunjin wheezed, his hips jerking up and down uncontrollably, as he pulled you down for a messy kiss, full of tongue and teeth. "Cum with me baby."

"Professor, p-please cum inside me?" You shuddered against him, as he leaned down and nipped the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning against your cheek.

"Shit, I'm already about to bust," he growled, voice strained as he continued to hammer his pulsing cock in and out of you. But he was starting to lose control. You did this to him, made him go insane. "Are you proud of yourself, you little whore? Making me lose my composure like this? Having your professor cum inside you? Fill you up so well?"

"Oh my god, yes!" you wailed, your entire body arching against the two men who held you between them, tremors wracking your body in waves. Hyunjin was stroking your clit in messy circles, sucking on your neck as he murmured sweet nothings against your skin. "Fuck, you both feel so good, I-I'm gonna-"

And before you could finish your sentence, you let go for the last time, entire body quivering with the orgasm you'd been desperately waiting for, until tonight. You clutched Hyunjin's hair in your hands, back bowing into Changbin's shuddering hips, as you finished around both men, in a whimpering, spasming mess, crying incoherently, the only words Changbin could understand being "sir", "professor", and "please".

Hyunjin finished next, gasping out your name as he bullied his throbbing length into you with growing need, letting out soft moans and whines, those full lips devouring yours hungrily, as he fell apart, spilling his load inside of you, milky cum leaking from your pussy down your leg, and onto the blanket.

Changbin was the last to get there, as he gripped your slender waist so tightly in his rough hands, he thought he might break you. His balls contracted painfully, as he trembled above you, the sensation of you squeezing him as you came almost causing him to pass out. "Mine, mine mine," he repeated, harshly sucking the skin on your neck as you nearly collapsed underneath him. But he pulled you up, and held you flush against his chest, continuing to pound mercilessly in and out of you, grunting and growling into your soft hair. His hips twitched and jerked, and he came inside you, so hard he had to hold onto you for purchase.

The three of you collapsed onto the mattress, your tongue lolling from your mouth, completely fucked out, body still wracked with the shockwaves of the intense lovemaking. Hyunjin curled into you, becoming the little spoon, as he kissed the backs of your hands, murmuring praise upon praise.

"You did so good, pretty girl," he murmured adoringly, as you continued to play with his hair, kissing up and down his neck and giggling sleepily.

Changbin watched the two of them, a distinct sensation of discomfort washing over him. He'd done his job, which was helping your and Hyunjin's sex life. And now the two of you were clearly happy without him. He should probably see himself out.

But as he started to grab his clothes and get dressed, you rolled over to face him, a confused look on your face.

"Bin, where are you going?" you asked, voice hoarse with overuse. You looked as beautiful as ever, hair wild and messy, skin glowing after getting properly fucked by the two men you were obsessed with.

Changbin swallowed, forcing himself to be cordial. "I thought now that I did my job, I should leave."

You reached a hand out to him, a pleading smile lighting your face. You glanced at Hyunjin for approval, and he nodded. "What if I didn't want you to leave, Professor?"

Changbin smiled, cheeks warming. "Then I'd stay for as long as you like."

laska’s note —

well well well… if you’re reading this note, you must have reached the end of this one shot, and (probably) the end of the two-part series! if you haven’t read the first part, yes, professor, i have it linked at the beginning of this post. i promise, it’s worth the read, and this one shot might make more sense.

i apologize for the very long wait, i know many of you have been eagerly awaiting another installment! i hope it was worth it, even though it was incredibly long 🫣 i hold myself to a high standard when it comes to my writing, so i combed through this thing multiple times. i hope it lived up to your expectations, and i hope i will have more time to write spicy one shots for you all in the new year, because i have a lot of great ideas 😏

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thursdayinspace · 2 days ago

Text

So I rewatched "Our Town" last night and when I sat down at my laptop this morning to do something that was not writing, I ended up writing instead. These things happen. Just a silly fluffy-ish little thing because omg that ep is so gross and also Scully has to be getting sick of being abducted all the time. Mulder feels the same way.

She can’t sleep. It’s not every day you almost get beheaded—even after everything that she’s already been through this year, it seems there are still things that can shake her up pretty badly. She rolls over on the lumpy motel mattress and tries to get comfortable. For a glorious moment, she considers quitting. Handing Skinner her resignation and walking away, finding a nice job with regular hours where people won’t handcuff her to radiators, stick her in closets, contort their stretchy bodies through cracks in her bathroom window, or drive her around in the trunks of their cars before handing her over to aliens or the government or whatever theory Mulder’s going with right now. A job where she won’t spend the end of a work day strapped into a metal harness as a guy in a mask raises an ax above her head.

In her mind she pictures a simple life: a nice house with a yard, a dog greeting her as she opens the door and walks inside after a long day at the hospital…no, a private practice? A day of teaching? Whatever she’s been doing, she walks into a kitchen that smells like home-cooked dinner, leaning up to kiss her faceless husband who’s vaguely Mulder-shaped. “Honey, I’m home!” “Dinner’s almost ready! How was your day?” “Fine. Narrowly avoided decapitation. Nothing exciting.” Fuck. Not even fantasy-Scully can escape the absurdity of this life.

The knock on her door doesn’t even surprise her. She already knows who it is. He stopped waking her unless it’s something really important, so she groans and gets up, her bones aching, weeping inwardly as she makes her way to the door. So she can’t sleep; that doesn’t mean she wants to spend the night going over their case report or whatever that infuriatingly charming insomniac wants from her this time.

But when she opens the door, he doesn’t look as if he wants to go over case reports. He looks like shit. As much as that’s even possible for him. Another thing that’s simply unfair about her life, she thinks with a sigh. Even with bags under his eyes and pale as a sheet he still looks beautiful. “Mulder?” she says.

He doesn’t answer, just steps right into her and pulls her into a wordless hug, so tight she’s a little afraid he’ll crack her ribs. She hugs him back weakly and pats his back, not quite sure what else to do since she has no idea what the fuck he’s even doing. She expects him to pull back, but he just keeps holding on, and she’s genuinely having trouble breathing.

“Uh, Mulder?” she says again, a little louder.

“You’re okay,” he mumbles into her hair, and she wiggles in his arms, trying to loosen his grip.

“Not for much longer if you don’t let go.”

“Sorry.” He drops his arms and takes a step back, but keeps looking at her like he’s never seen her before. “Sorry, I just—”

“It’s fine,” she says. “Did you have a bad dream?”

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah.” She grimaces. “Me neither. It’s been…a day.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, and she laughs. She’s too tired not to.

“Thanks to your timely rescue, my head is still firmly attached to my body.” It sounds a little bitter, and she’s surprised at herself before she feels another little piece of her frustration clicking into place. Ah, yes, she thinks. There’s that too. Rescued once again. She makes a mental note: fantasy-Scully in her little imaginary suburban nine-to-five utopia will never have to be rescued. She’s gonna be the one doing all the rescuing. Except nobody needs to be rescued in that perfect little world, because nothing bad ever happens to anyone.

“You don’t sound okay,” Mulder says, and she closes her eyes for a second. She’s not annoyed with him, she reminds herself. It’s not his fault that she became part of these townsfolks’ dinner plans, and it’s not his fault that she needed him to keep that from happening.

“I’m just a little tired.”

“I’ll let you sleep.” He sounds exhausted and when she looks at him, she sees leftover fear in his eyes. “No more interruptions, I promise.”

Her hand reaches out for his before she’s fully conscious of what she’s doing. It’s just that he’s here and she’s had enough of being Agent Scully for tonight, and he really looks so much like Doctor Scully’s faceless dinner-cooking husband in her nice little fantasy home. “Come on,” she says.

“What are you—”

“Bed,” she explains, hoping he won’t ask any more questions.

“Oh. Okay.”

She gets in on her side and is relieved when he lies down next to her without another word. She closes her eyes, but she can feel him stock-still as a statue next to her, she can feel the tension radiating off of him, and, hell, it sounds like he’s even trying to breathe without making a sound. So she grabs his arm and rolls onto her side, tugging him with her until he has his back against her chest, and she holds firmly onto his hand and snuggles back into him.

“Scully?” he asks, sounding a little confused.

“Relax, Mulder,” she tells him. “Sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“About sleeping?”

“You know what I mean.”

She laughs and squeezes his fingers. “No. Of course not. But honestly? I really don’t care right now.”

“Okay,” he says, and he gets it, she knew he’d get it. “Okay,” he repeats, and laces their fingers together. She feels him lift his head, feels his hot breath against the side of her face, and then a gentle kiss against the corner of her eye. “Good night, Scully.”

“Good night, Mulder.”

Behind her closed eyelids, fantasy Scully lies just like this with her faceless partner, who’s just as warm and smells just as good as real Scully’s friend-partner spooned up behind her. The only difference is that her own real Mulder is…well, real. No matter how perfect her beautiful little dream house with her beautiful perfect husband may be, she kind of prefers snuggling with someone who has a face and a name. And maybe she’d actually miss the mess.

Not all of it. Not the ax-swinging, homicidal maniacs or the lumpy motel mattresses. But a partner who knocks on her door in the middle of the night because he couldn’t sleep without making sure she was okay? Who sleeps wrapped around her with his breath ruffling the hair at the back of her neck, knowing this isn’t leading anywhere other than comfort and friendship? And…she kisses the backs of his fingers once she convinces herself he’s probably asleep…a vague hope that maybe this won’t always be all there is between them?

Yeah. She’ll take it.

#txf #the x files #msr #mulder and scully #fic #poangpals #ficlet

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iridescentmirrorsgenshin · 3 days ago

Note

do you think alhaitham is a yearner for kaveh or the other way around

Anon thank you so much for this ask <3 it turns out that this is more complicated than I thought. since alhaitham is so embarrassingly obvious, I think kaveh’s own version of ‘yearning’ can be overlooked, so thank you for giving me an opportunity to explore both! I am using your ask as an excuse to show how embarrassing alhaitham is, he has no shame!! therefore i've had to split this answer into two posts!

alhaitham essentially building his life around kaveh being a part of it is ultimate down bad behaviour:

the house: alhaitham’s character stories give us very little about alhaitham’s life after his fallout with kaveh and his graduation. we’re told that he moves out of his grandmother’s house to move into the research facility gifted to him and kaveh? and it’s only after he moves in that he’s told by a third-party that kaveh has no need for the property, so only then does he convert the property into a house

So it seems he moved in with some expectation of encountering kaveh at some point, especially considering it was their joint property. There’s no reason given why he opted to move out of his grandmother’s house but I think it's interesting that kaveh’s character stories detail that a house is not a home without other occupants who understand him without words, which causes him to sell his parents’ house as he was the only occupant, which parallels with alhaitham moving out of a house in which he also is the sole occupant, into a property which ties him and kaveh together

The bulletin boards/academic journals: although it isn’t specified who made the first journal critique, if it falls in line with alhaitham incessantly responding to all of kaveh’s bulletin board points, I’d like to think that alhaitham reached out first here, just as he moved into their joint property without actually knowing that kaveh had no use for it – although they had separated at this point, regardless of who reached out first, alhaitham was still actively pursuing kaveh’s perspective here, as this was the only instance of kaveh being in his life… oh….

during the archon quest: alhaitham mentioning kaveh without any prompt whatsoever lives in my head, even more so that this seems to be a musing that he didn’t even mean to say out loud? Sick!!

And when kaveh eventually returns, alhaitham says that he doesn’t want to have to explain the whole thing to kaveh, so he should leave the house of daena before kaveh returns, but he doesn’t?

Special mention of the gathering in the grand bazaar where alhaitham equates his own happiness to that of the people of the gathering, and then immediately mentions how he must have taken both keys leaving the house, indicating that another reason for his happiness increased because kaveh has returned, and that his way of life has been maintained - meaning that kaveh is one of his priorities (i brainrot more about this here)

Alhaitham’s story quest: the motif of kaveh ensuring alhaitham’s content is returned to with force in alhaitham’s story quest with establishing kaveh as someone alhaitham chooses not to be objective about, with kaveh being framed as alhaitham’s priority

(additionally, this expression, absolutely criminal)

kaveh’s hangout and voice lines: kaveh is shown once again to be an exception to alhaitham’s objectivity, as alhaitham inserts himself into kaveh’s ‘fate’ to offer him a place to stay when kaveh’s choices led him to selling his house, having no place to go – this overturns alhaitham’s principle of being uninvolved with people’s fates, and pulling kaveh back to shore, as opposed to standing on the sidelines

kaveh’s hangout is really special to me as it showcases alhaitham’s whole understanding of kaveh, not only his inner psyche, but also how to secure kaveh’s happiness through an indirect action, as kaveh’s heart meter increases once seeing the response a student wrote to his annotations, it demonstrates that alhaitham’s care towards kaveh is most explicitly shown with actions

a parade of providence: alhaitham becomes the event's commentator solely to investigate Sachin to see if he influenced kaveh’s father, attempting to give kaveh closure and alleviate his self-destructive mindset. in the same vein, alhaitham leaves kaveh note that in a language the two learnt together for their thesis commenting on kaveh's ideologies and how it can lead to suffering.

this really solidifies that alhaitham's care is demonstrated in actions, and that a shift in communication is needed to properly show this. It’s here that alhaitham’s actions are the most explicit, and this leads to the major improvement in their relationship (which i explore more in detail here)

cyno's second story quest: thank you for chronic book gripper alhaitham reading his book when kaveh is out of the living room, and immediately putting it down when kaveh enters and begins telling alhaitham about his day, for alhaitham to encourage.

the animation that was so essential for the devs to include of alhaitham watching kaveh sketch when kaveh’s back was turned is such a comic example of yearning, it’s actually ridiculous

also alhaitham smiling when being asked to stay in the house of daena to work with kaveh??

alhaitham is one big yearner, he is that guy and he has no interest in beating the allegations!

the second part of this answer will explore kaveh's version of yearning!

#haikaveh #kavetham #alhaitham #kaveh #genshin impact #also an additional shout out to alhaitham's endeared laugh and smile when kaveh goes to sort out the books #if kaveh hadn't left before then and if kaveh had seen alhaitham's criminal expression in his story quest then #they would have figured everything out a lot quicker #also i really love the way alhaitham's character stories are handled in terms of which things are left out #like why did alhaitham move out of his grandmother's house? did it signify something to him? was it genuinely an attempt to see kaveh #once more? it just creates this lovely intrigue #i wanna crack alhaitham open like a nut the way his brain works is so riveting #also i am so sorry this post took so long to answer!!!#i had to take a break from being online but i'm back to answer all your lovely inboxes so thank you for your patience <3333

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strawberriesoup · 2 days ago

Text

24 to 25٠࣪⭑

── .✦ A snowstorm forces you to take refuge with Jisung on christmas eve

word count: 6.6k

genre: fluff with a little angst, jisung x female reader, mutual pining, comfort, acquaintances to lovers

warnings: cursing, feelings, reader is down horrendously bad for jisung, kisses, jisung is a sweetheart

a/n: this has been in the works for a while (i’m bad at writing stuff fast) SO IM SUPER HAPPY THAT I WAS ABLE TO GET IT OUT FOR THE HOLIDAY SEASON

any/all feedback is highly appreciated!!

taglist: @jisunggy @holly-here @hannamoon143 @fly-you-dam-fools

if you would like to be added to my general taglist, send me a comment or an ask! <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The holiday season is a time for joy, a time to share laughter and meals, a time to wear fuzzy socks and fall asleep watching bad Christmas movies. Well, that’s what it’s supposed to be anyways. It’s a little hard to get into the Christmas cheer when each snowflake swirling outside your windshield is somehow concerningly larger than the last.

Wind whistles past your car as you squint your eyes, trying — and failing— to get any sort of visibility through the rapidly thickening blanket of snow and darkness. The gas light flashes on with a ping. Damn it. Continuing on whilst the best you can make out of your surroundings is a screen of nothingness and the occasional telephone pole doesn’t seem like the best course of action right now.

Eventually, you manage to pull into a small gas station about five minutes away by reluctantly putting your life into the hands of Google Maps.

Blowing warmth onto your hands, white-knuckled from your death grip on the steering wheel, you yank your phone out of the cupholder. Stranded in some dingy parking lot a good forty-five minutes away from your apartment is definitely where you needed to be on Christmas Eve, thanks so much universe. And your feet are cold.

You had really wanted to surprise them. The last time you’d seen your family was back in March, well over half a year ago. You thought Christmas as the perfect opportunity to visit. Just imagining the look on their faces alone was more than enough to spur your enthusiasm. But, then again, you hear the worries in the back of your mind. You hadn’t visited in so long, rarely even sending a text their way. And coming over with zero warning? They might not be as happy as you hoped.

No, of course they would be happy to see you, right? Right. Either way, there’s no way you’re going anywhere tonight.

Warm air from the AC fans across your face as you slump back in your chair, unfastening the top clasp of your coat that suddenly seems to be suffocating you. What do you even do in this situation? Call someone?

Scrolling through your contacts, your eyes alight on a familiar name.

Han Jisung

You face lights up with hope. Didn’t he say something about living around here? You open his contact, immediately faced with the looming call button in the top right corner of the screen.

Jisung is somewhat of an aquaintance of yours. Calling him a friend might be too bold. Being partners on a group project doesn’t automatically equal friendship, but you two had gotten along quite well. At least, you thought so. Maybe that was wishful thinking coming from your fat crush on him and his gorgeous smile, but still.

What are you doing? You hardly know this guy, and you’re going to call him on Christmas Eve night so he can, what, pick you up? You have to admit, the thought sets off little warning bells in your head. But what other options do you have?

Finger hovering over the button, you hesitate for a moment longer before pressing call.

The line rings once, twice. What if he doesn’t answer? He’s probably busy, it is Christmas eve after all. Did he ever mention leaving town for the holidays?

You’re so busy trying to recall previous conversations with him that you almost don’t notice the line picking up before the third ring. Shit, that was faster than you were expecting. Jisung’s voice greets you through the speaker.

“Heyy, what’s up?”

At the sound of his voice, your heart does a little leap in your chest. You take a deep breath before answering.

“Hi Jisung. I, uh, have a bit of a favor to ask.”

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

You were right about him living close, because less than fifteen minutes later the bright flash of headlights announces Jisung’s arrival. You know that looking nice should be the least of your priorities right now, but that doesn’t stop you from flipping open the sunvisor and briefly inspecting your appearance.

Jisung’s car door thuds shut as you hop out of your own car, met with a brisk rush of air that fills your lungs, chilling you from the inside out. He wasn’t far, but with the heavy snow you can just make out his form from across the lot. You’re quick to hustle towards his dark sillouette, eager to get out of the cold as soon as possible.

Meeting in the middle sooner than you had expected, both you and Jisung halt in tandem, breaths coming in puffs of condensation. The zipper of his puffer jacket is half undone, complimented by a scarf thrown haphazardly around his neck. His hands that are shoved deep in the pockets of his coat give hint to the fact that he’s probably not even wearing gloves.

Neither of you had spoken a word. The silence is painfully awkward, and you can tell he feels it too, if the way he glances down at his feet in favor of meeting your eyes is anything to go by.

“So, do you—”

“Should we—”

Speaking simultaneously, you both cut your sentences short, falling into a silence that’s somehow louder than the last. God, you had expected it to be awkward but not this awkward. Meeting with Jisung outside of a college setting feels so foreign, the only way you’ve interacted with him thus far has been through school. You can feel your ears burn as Jisung clears his throat.

“Sorry, uh, you were saying?” He pulls his hand out of his pocket to gesture at you, confirming that he is indeed not wearing gloves.

The question hangs in the air as Jisung pushes his glasses up with two fingers and looks at you expectantly. His cheeks are tinted with blush from the prickling cold. Lips slightly parted, his breath hisses through his teeth with every inhale, as if trying to supress them from chattering.

“Oh, yeah,” you begin your sentence again, shaking your head to focus. You’re standing in a parking lot in the middle of an actual snowstorm, now is not the time to be fawning over him. “should we, like, head to your car? I’m freezing. I’ll just leave my car here because it’s— yeah.” You twist around to look at your drab little car. It’ll be fine.

He lets out a little puff of laughter, sending a cloud of frost into the air.

“Yeah, good idea. c’mon let’s go.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The car ride to Jisung’s place is less awkward than your experience in the parking lot, but not by much. A comment is occasionally made about the storm, but other than that the ride is filled with silence and the steady swishing of windshield wipers.

Jisung glances at you from the corner of his eye. You’re examining the fluff on your gloves with your head down, not seeming too intrested in conversation.

Or maybe you’re uncomfortable. That would make a lot of sense.

Wincing internally at himself, Jisung draws his attention back to the road and furrows his brow, trying to remember if he’s done something wrong. Although, he supposes that being alone with, well, not a stranger— Jisung would like to think he’s at least a good aquaintance to you— but with someone you don't know too well, is enough to put anyone on edge. He has to remind himself that this was your idea.

When your contact info had popped up on his screen, interrupting his very important business (scrolling), he promptly froze, had an intense mental battle on how he should answer, dropped his phone, picked it back up again, and hit answer, all in the span of about four seconds.

Jisung has to admit he does have a slight thing for you. Well okay, maybe a big thing. Like, he has your class schedule and favorite study spot memorized kind of big. Also you wear your hair up on Tuesdays.

But thats besides the point really.

After what feels like a lifetime of driving and the occasional buzzing of muted christmas music playing through the radio, you two finally arrive at Jisung’s place.

It’s nicer than you had expected. The house is dimly lit, but perfectly tidy. Best of all, it’s warm. Behind you, Jisung’s keys jingle as he hangs them up next to the door.

“Uh, make yourself at home, okay? There’s instant ramen, some milk… actually, that’s about it but hey, at least there’s ramen.” He beckons you in, tugging his scarf off while smiling ruefully at the lack of food options to offer.

“That’s okay, I believe in instant ramen supremacy,” you state confidently, earning a laugh from Jisung as you follow him into the kitchen, resting your weight on the counter.

“A woman after my own heart I see,” He jokes, closing his eyes and placing a hand dramatically over his heart. His knuckles are still flushed pink from the cold.

If only he knew.

You can feel the awkward tension from earlier start to melt away now that you’re here. Thank God, because you were seriously considering going back to your car and just waiting out the night there. You couldn’t do that though. Jisung was so willing to help, coming as soon as you had called. Which is kind of crazy, if you stop to think about it for a second. Going out of your way to drive out in a snowstorm and picking someone up on Christmas Eve would be absolutely out of the question for most people, let alone someone you aren’t even close with.

Jisung is busying himself with running some warm water in the kitchen. He rests one elbow on the counter, testing the water tempature. You find yourself watching his movements, how he runs a hand through his hair, the dark strands dampening with the moisture from his hand, and how his eyebrows pinch in concentration until the tempature is just right. Jisung seems more comfortable and relaxed now that he’s here. He’s not a tall man, by any stretch of the imagination, but his confident demeanor makes his presence seem much larger.

Running his chilled hands underneath the warm faucet to bring the warmth back, Jisung looks to the window. You blink and follow suit. Fortunately, he hadn’t caught you staring.

“Holy shit, we must have made it here just in time,” He laughs incredulously, shutting off the sink and shaking the rest of the dampness from his hands.

The window is completely engulfed in white.

Outside, the wind angrily laments that you’re inside and safe. You can’t imagine being stuck out there in that, alone. Just the thought of it makes your insides churn with a strange mixture of anxiety and relief, and you realize that you haven’t even thanked Jisung yet for saving your sorry ass. You open your mouth, but the words seem to dry up on your tongue.

Jisung tilts his head at you, questioning.

“No for real, I haven’t seen a snow this crazy in a while,” Running your hand along the cool countertop, you fix your eyes on an unlit candle to the left of Jisung’s form. Why can’t you just say thank you? It’s not that hard, yet you find yourself avoiding the two simple words like the plauge.

A beat of silence falls over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. There’s no rush or pressure to say anything, just a quiet presence while gazing out at the bright sheet that blankets the night.

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

You have an idea.

Is it a good idea? Probably not, but it’s an idea nonetheless.

While you had been absentmindedly thumbing through your Pinterest homepage in an attempt to pass time, you came across a recipe. And not just any recipe, it’s a sugar cookie recipe in the likeness of a snowman. With a little face on it.

The tantalizing image stirrs your sweet tooth, and you glance over at Jisung on the other side of the couch. He seems to be putting an obviously large amount of distance between the two of you, as the entire middle section of the couch remains empty with you and Jisung perched on either side.

“Hey, so… are you any good at baking?”

Jisung’s head jerks up at your question.

“Uhhh. I plead the fifth.”

You find yourself grinning.

“How about this, do you like baking?”

“Now that. Is a different story.” His knees spread apart as he adjusts his position on the couch, slouching lower and crossing his arms across his chest. He looks at you sideways. “What, did you have something in mind?”

You definitely do have something in mind, and it doesn't have anything to do with baking.

“Hear me out,” you point your phone screen at Jisung, who leans in to squint at it. “we make christmas cookies. In the shape of snowmen.”

“You know what, hell yeah. Nothing better to do,” Jisung stretches his arms towards the ceiling, hands balling up into fists. Your wandering eyes betray you, and you can’t help but notice the little sliver of smooth skin that peeks out from where his shirt slides up as he stretches. He needs to stop being so casually sexy right now or you might go crazy. “Cross your fingers though, ‘cause I dunno if I have any eggs.”

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

Currently standing in a neat line across the countertop are all the gathered ingredients necessary for the cookies. Jisung had miraculously acquired two eggs from the depths of his fridge, which now sit next to the flour, and you had spent a good five minutes opening and closing cabinets in search of all the dry ingredients.

You’ve baked a couple of times before. Granted, the first time the cookies were still soft in the middle and the second time may or may not have involved the fire department, but third time’s the charm right? You’re determined to make and eat these cookies.

Next to you, Jisung is staring at the ingredients, hands on his hips. Seemingly at a loss, he looks over to you for instructions.

“Okay, step one: combine the dry ingredients…”

So far, so good. Jisung was put in charge of the flour mixture, while you had started the task of creaming the butter and sugar together.

When you glance up to check on Jisung after a bit, you find him leveling out a scoop of flour, meticulously brushing any stray lumps of powder off of the top with a butter knife. His eyes squint in concentration until he is satisfied with the measurement, proceeding to dump it into the bowl. A faint cloud of white powder dusts the air.

You watch him with amusement as he scoops another cup out of the flour bag, starting the whole process over again.

He must have felt you staring, because his head darts up, eyes finding yours. You quickly duck your head back towards your work.

You wonder if Jisung is a perfectionist with most things in his life. He’s mentioned before that he writes and produces music, you figure that has a certain degree of perfectionism to it. Then again, during the car ride here your feet were resting on several bags of fast food from various restaurants. Maybe his perfectionism is selective.

The undeveloped batter clings to the mixer as you switch it off and pull it out of the bowl. You swipe a finger over one of the whisks and pop it in your mouth. It might just be sugar and butter, but hey, that shit’s good.

Turning your head to offer Jisung a taste, you let out a gasp of surprise upon realizing that he’s standing right behind you. He leans forward, lowkey trapping you between him and the counter as he crosses an arm around you to scoop up some of the mixture from the edge of the bowl. Your breath catches at his proximity. His warm breath brushes againt your neck, causing a shiver to run up your spine.

He draws away, licking his finger while you remain frozen in place. What happened to him keeping a good distance from you? You don’t think he even realizes what he just did, because he just strolls on back to his little station, quietly humming a tune as he goes.

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

As soon as the oven door slams shut, Jisung is immediately squatted in front of it, dutifully watching the uniform balls of dough through the yellow tint of the oven light.

“You know those will take, like, thirteen minutes to cook, right?” Leaning over the countertop, you raise an eyebrow at his crouched form.

“Thirteen? No way. I’ll basically be dead by then.” Jisung stands up, brushing some of the remaining flour off his pants. That’s when you notice a patch of white just above his left eyebrow. How did that even happen?

You step forward without thinking, reaching up to rub the spot off with your thumb. His skin is ridiculously soft, and you find your treacherous fingers lingering for probably longer than was strictly necessary.

Jisung’s eyes are twice as wide as normal as you pull your hand away. He blinks at you and swallows, causing his throat to bob up and down.

Oh so now he’s flustered. You’re beginning to think your little crush is reciprocated after all.

Momentarily confident, you send him a sweet smile.

“That’s better.”

Jisung doesn't say anything in return, but you don't think you’re imagining the slight red tint to his ears.

Three loud beeps announce that the cookies have completed their oven time and are now ready to be taken out and consumed.

Jisung arms himself with oven mitts and carefully slides the cookie tray out of the oven and onto the potholders that you had placed on the countertop a few minutes prior.

They look good. Like, really good. You can feel your mouth starting to water.

“Holy shit, I think we actually did it! Thank God they didn't catch on fire this time,” you exclaim, poking one experimentally with a finger.

Jisung’s eyebrows fly up and he shoots you a bewildered look.

“I thought you said you could cook??”

“Hey now, I never said that…”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Throughout the night, you have become painfully aware of the fact that you are wearing jeans.

Thankfully, since you were heading to your family’s house anyways, you have an entire suitcase packed with the works. Your comfy pajamas from last year are sounding really good right now.

Jisung is propped up on the corner of the couch with a cookie in one hand and his phone in the other. His cheeks are stuffed with probably half of said cookie right now, making him look like some sort of rodent. It’s cute.

You need to ask him where his bathroom is to change, but you find yourself hesitating. Jisung looks up at you with a confused expression and a cookie crumb clinging to his cheek.

Realizing that you’re just looming over the side of his couch ominously, you are quick to blurt out your question.

“Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Goddamnit. Of course he knows where his own fucking bathroom is. What kind of question is that?

Jisung, luckily, seems to have found it amusing, his eyes squinting up as he lets out a hearty laugh. Which almost, almost, makes up for the fact that you just asked the stupidest question in the history of mankind. It doesn’t stop your cheeks from heating up though.

“Yeah, I think it’s down the hallway to the left,”

He’s playing along. You wonder if he has any idea how much better that makes you feel as you break into a wide smile and thank him, scurrying off to go grab your…

Suitcase.

Your suitcase. Where was it? You don’t remember bringing it to Jisung’s place, where could it be? Did you- oh. You remember your dingy little car, sitting out there in the gas station parking lot. Your dingy little car that happened to have your suitcase in it.

Sometimes you surprise yourself, because how can one be this much of a mess? Everything has gone wrong tonight, and now this? You couldn’t even make it to your family’s house to surprise them. The weight of it all is beginning to crush you, forcing tears to well up in your eyes.

Stopping in the hallway around the corner, out of Jisung’s eyeshot, you shove your impending emotions down your throat, the roughness of the wall against your fist keeping you steady. You are not going to cry right now. You’ll find a solution. You just need to calm down first. Closing your eyes, you take in deep breaths, letting each exhale push you farther away from tears.

Once you’re sure you have yourself under control, you consider your options. You could ask Jisung for something to wear, or you could remain uncomfortable in your jeans for the remainder of the night. Now, you wouldn’t be upset about wearing Jisung’s clothes, not even in the slightest. They’d probably smell like him, too. How that man always smells so damn good is beyond you.

He’ll understand if you ask him for his clothes. You know he will. Hopefully, he won’t take it in the wrong way. It’s not like you want to wear his clothes, you just have to because you don’t have any other option.

Yeah no, you really just want to wear his clothes.

Rounding the corner, you expect to see Jisung on the couch only to find that he’s no longer in his spot, or in the living room, for that matter. He’s not in the kitchen either (which still has various baking supplies and smears of flour scattered about. You make a mental note to clean that up later). Huh. Maybe he went to his room. You settle down on the couch to wait for him, busying yourself with counting your knuckles.

Sock-padded footsteps cause your head to perk up in their direction. Jisung emerges from his room, closing the door behind him with his foot. His face lights up when he finds you on the couch.

“I wasn’t sure if you had brought any PJs or not, so, I grabbed some things you can wear,” He says, then seems to check himself and quickly adds, “If you want! You don’t, like, have to or anything, just thought I would offer.” In his arms he carries a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.

You could kiss him right now.

“Oh my God, Jisung, are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course, it’s no problem at all.” He reassures you.

Jisung had offered the clothes purely out of wanting to make sure you’re comfortable. Sleeping in jeans is pretty awful and he didn’t see you bring a suitcase or anything. Maybe he also wanted to give you his clothes but that’s irrelevant.

He watches as you skip off to the bathroom to change with a newfound pep to your step. Jisung shakes his head, grinning despite himself. You’re just so damn cute.

This storm might just be the best thing that’s happened to Jisung in a while. Getting to spend time with you? And on Christmas Eve no less. If you’d have told him that yesterday, he wouldn't have believed it one bit. It’s like all his prayers have been answered.

He finds himself wondering, what were your plans before you called him for help? Are you upset that you’re here, at his place, instead of wherever you were heading to? Jisung hopes not. As much as he’s happy you’re here to keep him company, he can’t help but worry about how you’re feeling about the situation.

As if on cue, you appear once again at the entrance to the hallway. This time though, you’re all cozyed up in his clothes.

Jisung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you. The sweats nearly swallow your feet whole, and his hoodie— which is oversized in the first place—fits almost comically large on your frame; hanging off of one shoulder.

It’s not the exposed shoulder that gets him necessarily, this isn’t the 19th century, it’s the fact that you’re in his clothes and in his house.

He swallows.

“You look- you, uh, yeah. You look good. Warm?”

Jisung’s reaction tells you all you need to know. You laugh in response.

“Mhm! Add this to the list of things I definitely owe you for,”

“Pshh, nah don’t even worry about it, i’m happy to help,” Jisung figures that if he doesn’t look at you too hard, he’ll be able to keep his brain from short-circuiting. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Sparing a careful glance back up at you, he pats the couch to back up his offer.

The couch dips as you plop down next to him, sporting that smile of yours that has him weak. You had looked so distraught just a couple of minutes ago, and just the simple act of him offering his clothes and a movie had brought your spirits right up. Cute.

Jisung rests his chin on his hand and listens as you lay out your christmas movie options, but he’s only half-paying attention. He knows that he’ll enjoy whatever movie you choose, as long as you’re there to watch it with him.

He also knows that he’s probably more than a little bit head over heels for you.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The smell of freshly-microwaved popcorn fills the room as you and Jisung take your respective places on the couch, the silent agreement apparently being to keep at least a foot between your bodies at all times

You settle in and get comfortable while the opening credits roll across the screen. Jisung is tossing some popcorn in his mouth, having already eaten nearly half of his bag. You get the feeling that he’s going to be asking to steal some of your popcorn sooner or later.

Even with him being a foot away, you are hyper-aware of his presence. The movie is starting, but you know there’s no way you are going to able to maintain any sort of attention span with Jisung sitting right there.

Still facing towards the screen, you sneak a quick look at him from the corner of your eye, only to find his eyes already trained on you.

The unexpected eye contact makes your heart jump to your throat, and you quickly jerk your gaze back to the television.

Why was he looking at you? Is he still looking? You consider turning again to check, but then decide against it, preferring to live in ignorance for the time being. You’re not sure you can deal with knowing he’s looking at you right now.

Not even ten minutes into the movie, a particularly loud whistle of wind rushes past the windows. The lights flicker once. And then again.

Fuck.

You barely have time to turn and look at a now wide-eyed Jisung before both of you are plunged into absolute darkness.

A small yelp of terror escapes from Jisung, and you feel his weight shift on the couch.

Blinking rapidly as though that would make the lights magically turn back on, you find yourself scooting towards Jisung. A heartbeat of silence passes, with only the sound of your and Jisung’s soft breaths cutting through the darkness.

“The power’s out,” He observes helpfully, voice noticably higher than it’s normal tenor.

“No shit.” You pull out your phone to turn on the flashlight, illuminating your faces. Jisung squeezes his eyes shut at the sudden intrusion of light, peeking one eye open at you after a moment.

The light reveals that he is a lot closer than you had thought. Barely an inch of space was left between your legs, and you swear you can feel warmth radiating off of him. Huh. That little mole on his face is visible from here.

Jisung swallows hard (apparently a habit of his) and quickly combs a hand through his hair, pulling himself up from the couch.

“Hold on, I think I have a candle somewhere,” He still looks a bit frazzled, but heads towards the kitchen nonetheless.

You turn and cross your arms over the back of the couch, illuminating his path.

“You do, it’s on the counter,” You point at it, having noticed it earlier when you’d first arrived. “‘Spiced apple toddy’, huh?”

You grin at the offended look on Jisung’s face as he approaches, candle and lighter in hand.

“Hey! They’re seasonal,” he objects to your teasing, placing the candle on the coffee table.

T he lighter sparks into a flame as Jisung drops back down on the couch and lights the candle, bathing your surroundings in a soft, warm light.

Well. So much for the Christmas movie.

“That sucks, I really wanted to see what was going to happen to Frosty this year,” Jisung mirrors your thoughts with a sigh, crossing one ankle over his leg and shaking his head with a tsk.

You giggle, giving him a light shove on the shoulder. In the back of your mind, you feel like you should be upset about yet another thing going wrong tonight. But how could something be wrong, really, when Jisung is smiling like that. Smiling like that because of you. The thought ignites little butterflies in your stomach.

The power doesn't seem to have any plans to turn on again anytime soon, so you and Jisung break out a deck of cards. Turns out he’s a big trash talker when it comes to competition, which has you laughing your head off at the creative insults he throws at you. Seriously, how does he come up with these?

After losing your third game of speed, you realize that goosebumps have began to form all up and down your arms. Not wanting Jisung to notice, you try to smooth them down as nonchalantly as possible.

Of course, he immediately notices.

“Are you cold?” He furrows his eyebrows in concern, drawing his attention away from his hand of cards to you.

“Nope!” A shiver decides that it’s the right moment to shake your whole body. “Okay maybe a little,” you admit, “but I’m totally fine, it’s not bad at all.”

In all honesty, that was a complete lie. It’s cold as shit. You just hope your smile is enough to distract from your clenched teeth and slightly runny nose.

Jisung raises an eyebrow at you skeptically, obviously not buying it.

“So I guess if I got a blanket, you wouldn't want it, right?”

“Hey, thats not-” you start to protest to him poking fun at you, but your confidence shrivels when Jisung places his cards on the table, batting his eyes at you in mock attention.

It’s flustering, to say the least. He directly offered you the solution to your discomfort, and didn’t really leave you with the choice to say no. Which, you decide, is kinda hot. That seems to describe most of what Jisung does, though.

You drop your hands down on the table in defeat. “Fine. Can I please have a blanket?”

As a response to your request, Jisung simply hoists himself up once more, tapping you twice on the top of the head as he passes.

“Attagirl.”

The sideways grin he flashes you tells you that he knows exactly the effect that that little word had on your insides.

He’s going to be the death of you.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You had just barely managed to compose yourself when Jisung returns with not one, not two, but an entire armful of blankets. In favor of just dropping them all on the couch, he decides to launch both himself and the blankets onto the couch simultaniously. His legs fly up behind him as he lands belly-down onto the pile of blankets, face buried in the soft fabric.

Whether he’s trying to draw out a laugh or not, you bark out a laugh that’s probably louder than the situation called for. You slap a hand over your mouth in embarrassment as he lifts himself up to sit on the empty cushion of the couch.

It’s intresting, the way he moves. Every motion so natural, every curve so perfect, it traps your attention to him like a moth to a flame. His muscles are lean, tensing when he pushes himself up. You follow the lightest trace of a vein trailing down from his bicep to his hand, absentmindedly wondering how his hand would feel in yours. Wondering if he would ever so lightly run his fingers over the back of your hand, your collarbone, your jaw…

“So do you want a blanket or what?” Jisung waves his hand, snapping you out of your head. You hope he hadn’t noticed the way you were essentially ogling him just now. He most likely had though, given how annoyingly observant he’s proven to be.

The corners of Jisung’s mouth quirk up, a witheld laugh brimming behind his eyes. Okay scratch that, he definitely noticed.

Too humiliated to say anything, you take a seat next to him and toss a blanket over your head. The outside noises dim significantly from under the shelter of the blanket. The blanket that— unfortunately for you and your creative imagination— smells quite strongly of Jisung. You find yourself having to refrain from burying your face in the cloth. Because that would be weird.

It’s warm at least. Staying here forever sounds like a good plan.

A wave of fresh, cool air washes over you as the edge of the blanket lifts up to reveal Jisung peeking in at you.

“May I join you?”

You nod, hoping the darkness will conceal your flushed face. Jisung scootches to sit next to you and flicks the blanket back over both of your forms. Darkness encases you once more, only this time you aren’t alone.

Jisung’s phone light shines out, lighting up your faces in such a way that makes you think he might break into some cheesy horror story; the kind that you were genuinely terrified of in second grade.

He’s close. Like, really close. You could count his eyelashes if you wanted.

His eyes crinkle slightly as he gives you a little close-mouthed smile. He looks so lovely right now, you can’t help but smile right back at him. Except your smile definitely isn't lovely since you’re cheesing so hard.

When he chuckles, a breath of warm air puffs over your face, making you warmer than you think you’ve ever been.

Despite being a good bodily temprature already, the urge to wrap your arms around Jisung and bask in his physical presence is getting stronger by the second.

“I’m still cold.” The words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them, such a blatant untruth that it makes your heart speed up.

Jisung’s head drops, shoulders bouncing slightly with silent laughter.

As if your ears couldn't get any hotter than they were already.

“Still cold, huh? You know what’s crazy?” He leans in just a touch further as if about to tell you some great secret, his voice quieting almost to a whisper. “Me too.”

Jisung arm wraps around your shoulders, and he turns you sideways, pulling you flush to him. How you seem to fit perfectly in the curve of his side, you’ll never know. Resting your head down on his shoulder and tentatively reaching a hand up to curl on his chest, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. His heartbeat pounds in your ear, slower than your own jumping pulse, but much louder.

Wrapped in Jisung’s arms, you are definitely warmer than before. Which—since you really weren’t cold in the first place— has you sweating, the space under the blanket suddenly feeling small and suffocating.

You toss the top of the blanket off of your heads, inhaling the cold, crisp air now available to your lungs.

You’re not sure what comes over you. maybe it was the way that he tilts his head back to lean on the back of the couch, or maybe it was the little sigh he lets out, his breath just barely visible in the chilled air surrounding you. The hand that’s gently rubbing up and down your upper arm definitely isn't helping either.

You reach up and plant a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Jisung instantly tenses under you, every muscle tightening. You pull back to look at him, finding him frozen, staring straight ahead. a gorgeous pink tint graces his cheeks.

Always so confident until he’s the one being flirted with. Cute.

He’s silent and still for just a hint too long, and you start to get worried. Did you read the energy wrong? Was he just being nice?

You open your mouth to blurt out some sort of apology, but Jisung turns his head to look at you, eyes wide, searching your own. Your mouth snaps shut.

“Can you do that again?” His request is quiet and mumbled, nervousness evident in the way his knee starts to bounce up and down rapidly.

You reach up to grab his chin, his skin soft beneath your fingers. He’s real. He’s here and under your fingertips, gazing at you like you hung the moon.

You lean in, but pause to hover just millimeters away from his lips, your breaths mingling in the space between.

It’s not until Jisung makes a noise in his throat that is somewhere between a huff and a whine that you close the final distance between you two.

A white-hot flame ignites in your stomach when your mouths connect, only blazing brighter when Jisung runs his hand up the length of your back to rest it on the back of your head, holding you softly but firmly to him.

He wants you, everything about you. And you want him too, you always have.

When you part, you let out a breathless giggle. What just happened?

It seems as though Jisung is feeling the same way, a look of disbelief of his face as his eyes flick between your own.

“Thank you.” The two words that you’ve been skirting around all night finally slip past your lips.

“For what, the kiss? Anytime, babe.” He sends you an over-exaggerated wink, which of course doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but it is drowned out by the slightly more pressing fact that he just called you ‘babe’.

Not that you mind. At all, actually.

“First of all, I’m the one who gave you the kiss, thank you very much, and secondly I just- well, it just means, y’know, a lot to me that you picked me up… and stuff…” You wince as your confidence audibly dwindles, looking at the couch beside him, “So yeah, thank you. So much. I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”

“Hey, hey,” He brings your chin back up to look at him. “Seriously, it was no trouble at all. To be honest, I was so not looking forward to being alone on Christmas eve.” His gaze lightens, “So really, I should be thanking you because this is probably the best thing that could have happened to me.”

His genuine words paired with that soft look on his face make you realize that you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else or with anyone else tonight.

For the nth time tonight, you smile.

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katsu28 · 1 day ago

Text

the way you love

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: loving george russell is as easy as breathing sometimes, especially with the way he loves you. loosely inspired by stardust by zayn. (2.8k)

a/n: welcome to the first of four holiday fics! i'm hoping to post one a day until christmas eve, so stay tuned :)

Maybe you should’ve waited inside for George to pick you up.

Granted, you haven't been out here long, and you know he’ll be here soon, but it’s cold. Frigid wind whips your hair around your face, scraping over your skin harshly.

You nuzzle a little deeper into your scarf in a poor attempt to protect your cheeks.

The two cardboard cups clutched in your hands do help a little with the biting cold. One for you, one for George, both filled to the brim with steaming coffee from the little shop down the street from your building.

They’ve rolled out their holiday cups today, as noted by the festive little scene printed across the sleeve. It makes you smile, and you think George will probably like it too.

George’s sleek car pulls up in front of you with a gentle rumble not long later. You’re expecting him to be smiling when he gets out, but when his head pops over the roof of the car, he just looks concerned.

“Blimey, have you been waiting out here the entire time?” He exclaims incredulously, rounding the front of the car quickly.

You barely have time to nod before he’s easing the cups out of your grip. Only once they’re secured into cup holders inside the car does he grab your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to breathe a little warmth back into them.

“Didn’t want you to have to wait on me,” You say, as if it’s any excuse to have been standing in the freezing cold. Really, you just wanted to see George as soon as he came to pick you up. You’ve just seen him only last week, but it feels like forever.

“Darling, it’s freezing,” He reasons. He’s smiling now, despite the attempt to keep his firm composure.

You frown. “I missed you.”

He kisses you instead of answering, short and sweet, but still bursting with affection.

“Hi,” You say softly, nuzzling deeper into his broad palm after he pulls back an inch or two. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, bringing some more much needed heat back into your skin. You won’t tell him, but your nose had been starting to lose a bit of feeling.

“Hi. I missed you too,” He replies, fondness dripping from his tone.

“Yeah?”

“Of course. Longest five days of my life.”

That makes you grin even harder, pushing forward for another quick kiss. “Mine too.”

“Glad we feel the same.” He looks very pleased. “Shall we get a move on? We’re a little early, but I know how much you hate being late to things. I even told Alex to expect us early.”

You’re set to head to Alex Albon’s Christmas party in a little bit. George goes every year, but this is the first time you’re going too. You’re excited, nervous, and a little bit scared at the prospect of finally getting to meet all of George’s friends at one time. You've met a handful of them individually, gradually, George happily introducing you as his girlfriend every time, but never in such a large social setting like this party.

You aren’t quite sure what to expect, but if the ones you haven’t met are anything like the ones you have, you’ll be just fine.

“And what did he say about that?”

“That Lily is relieved someone competent is coming round to help out, so I’d say he’s pretty okay with it,” George says, chuckling. “C’mon, let's get you out of the cold.”

You allow George to help you into the car, letting out a comfortable sigh at the blazing warmth of the car interior. George has always liked to keep your shared spaces running hot despite your wishing for the opposite, but for the first time ever, you’re actually grateful for your boyfriend’s temperature preference.

“Nice, isn’t it?” He teases as he climbs into the driver’s seat, nudging at your shoulder. “See, I told you you’d come around someday.”

“Only because it’s cold as shit outside,” You huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I got you coffee.”

“Thank you, darling. Though I wish you hadn’t sacrificed your health to do so.”

“I know you had another late night yesterday, thought you might be tired. It’s fine, really, I didn’t mind,” You insist, shaking your head.

“You’re very sweet,” George says softly, leaning over the center to press a kiss to your cheek.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you turn at the last moment so he catches your lips instead. He lets out a noise of surprise, but has no hesitation in kissing you back happily, slipping a hand around the back of your neck to pull you closer.

You kiss and kiss and kiss until your lips start to tingle, and even then, you’re reluctant to pull away. There’s something intoxicating about kissing George that makes you want to do it forever.

“If we stay here any longer, we might actually end up being late,” George murmurs. He blinks at you, long lashes fluttering open and shut slowly. His breath fans across your skin on every exhale, cologne invading your senses until all that surrounds you is him.

“That would be bad.”

“Mm, awful,” He agrees. Still, he doesn’t make any attempt to pull away, perfectly content here, hiding away with you in the coziness of your close proximity. His nose drags along your cheek, lips following the path until he reaches the corner of your mouth.

You exhale shakily. “Alex and Lily are expecting us.”

“They are.”

“So we should go.”

“I mean, we don’t have to…” George trails off, letting his head tilt to the side.

“Yes, we do. Someone roped us into helping with party prep.”

He sighs rather heavily, handsome features screwing into overdramatic annoyance. “Starting to regret that right about now.” That makes you giggle. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with so we can go home.”

“There’s that holiday spirit!”

The drive over to Alex’s is fairly short. It actually takes more time to make yourselves presentable and not at all like you’ve just been making out in the car, before making your way up to Alex and Lily’s. George has brought presents for both of your friends—a watch for Alex and a bottle of perfume for Lily, he’d informed you in the elevator, bought by him, but a gift from the both of you.

The door swings open with a blast of music and the smell of something delicious not seconds after you knock. Alex stands just behind it with a gracious smile on his face and a flute of something bubbly in hand.

“Hi, welcome—oh, thank god you’re here,” He breathes. Then he stops, stares at the two of you for a few moments, as if he’s studying the both of you. A knowing smirk quirks his lips right after. “George, you’ve got lipstick on your chin, mate.”

George’s hand flies up to his face, rubbing furiously. His cheeks have flushed an embarrassed pink at his friend’s smug observation.

“I’m just kidding. But it was funny to see you panic,” Alex snickers.

“Ha ha, hilarious. Maybe I won’t give you this gift after all.”

Alex takes both boxes eagerly, tucking them under his arm with a wink. “Come on in, friends.”

The flat is decorated tastefully—festive, but not gaudy. You assume Lily had done most of the decor rather than Alex.

Speaking of—

“You’re here!!! Thank god!” Lily exclaims, barely paying George any mind before she whisks you away, chattering away immediately, wanting your opinions on everything from the appetizers to the seating arrangements at dinner. You cast a helpless glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend, who merely gives you an amused wave back.

You do what Lily tells you needs finishing up until the rest of the guests start to make their arrival. Most of the other drivers are in attendance, save for a few who’d opted to spend the holidays home with their families. Charles and Carlos are here, Lando and Oscar, Yuki, Pierre, Zhou and Franco, to name a few.

The bundle of nerves in your chest starts to unravel as more familiar faces trickle in, and you’re able to catch up with a couple of them. You’re chatting with Kika and Pierre about what’s new with Simba when a hand touches the small of your back.

Instantly, you know it's George. His touch is the only one that sends butterflies through you. That’s never happened with anyone else before, but with George, you feel alight with a certain energy every time.

You lean back into him on instinct, tilting your head up to look at him. His cheeks are slightly rosy, hair still perfectly coiffed, save for one curl that has escaped to hang over his forehead. You reach up to brush it back and he smiles, sliding a hand around your waist.

“So sorry to interrupt, you lot. Just wanted to pop in and see if anybody needed a refresher on their drinks,” He offers, though his gaze rests solely on you.

“Thank you, but we’re good, mate,” Pierre replies, as Kika shakes her head to decline too.

George says your name, lips lifting into a small smile as he juts his chin at your nearly empty glass.

“Thank you, Georgie,” You say gratefully. “Don’t forget to—”

“Make it sweeter? Yes, I know how you take your drinks, darling,” He hums, kissing your cheek quickly before retreating with your glass.

“You’ve trained him well,” Pierre teases, winking at you.

“I think he was born that way,” You admit.

That isn’t a lie. According to George’s sister, who you’d had the pleasure of meeting a few months back, he'd always been very kind, very caring, even when he was young. It’s one of the many qualities of his that has you falling in love with him a little more with every passing day.

George leaves you to your own conversations after bringing you your drink, but you see him periodically throughout the night. He always looks like the life of the conversation, talking animatedly, listening with rapt attention when he’s not yapping away.

Even as he’s listening intently, it’s like he can sense you’re looking at him, because he finds you almost instantly, sending a smile or a wink your way. That’s another lovable quality of his—knowing where you are even when he’s not with you. Like you’re two magnets being pulled towards each other at all times.

The more you chat with everyone else, one thing becomes obvious. George talks about you a lot. Not enough to be obnoxious, but he's mentioned you to many of his friends.

Charles knows you’ve been looking into learning how to play the piano because George had asked him something about which pianos were the best. Yuki offers up a few cooking tips because George had mentioned you wanted to try your hand at a new dish. Lewis congratulates you on a big project you’d finished at work a while back, telling you that George had been singing your praises in the garage right after you'd called.

If you look back at it, George has always been one of your biggest supporters.

Always wanting you to call him whenever something big happens because he can’t be there all the time, always doing things for you when he’s away so you never for a moment feel like he's not thinking of you. Sending you flowers, ordering you food from your favorite spot in Monaco even though he's a thousand miles away because he knows it’ll make you smile. Even just texting you a picture of something he saw that made him think of you.

George makes you feel so, so loved, all the time. Like, wherever you are in the world, no matter, everything will be okay because you’ve got him. You could be on some far off deserted island in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the land to live off of, but if George is there with you, it wouldn’t be all that bad.

Sometimes you wonder what your life would’ve been like if you’d never met him, but you never get far with those thoughts. You can’t even imagine what life would look like without George Russell. And honestly, you don’t really want to.

“Ready to head out?” George’s voice draws you out of your thoughts, and when you refocus, he’s right in front of you, holding out your coat. For a moment, you can only stand there, blinking back at him like you’ve just laid eyes on him for the first time ever.

He falters a little under your intense staring. “Darling? Are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Sorry, yeah. I’m fine, I’m just…tired, I think.”

“Let’s go home then. Stay the night at mine?”

“Duh,” You say. Your obvious tone makes George chuckle a little bit as he helps you slip into your coat.

“How silly of me to even ask.”

After finding your hosts to thank them for the great evening and subsequently being invited for a game of doubles padel with them one of these days, you're off.

“I don’t have any skin cleanser,” You say suddenly, just as George has pulled onto the main road.

“What?”

“At your place. I don’t have my cleanser, the one I always use before bed.”

“The one in the little green bottle?”

“Yeah.” You frown, slumping back in your seat. In hindsight, it’s really not the biggest deal in the world, and you’re not sure why you’re making it one. But for some reason right now, you’re focused on it.

“Lucky for you, your wonderful boyfriend bought a bottle just in case this happened. He figured you’d probably forget it one of these days.”

“Is there a reason my wonderful boyfriend is referring to himself in the third person?” You giggle, shifting in your seat to face said thoughtful boyfriend. George’s cheeks are flushed a little pink.

“Yeah, I thought it was a little weird too. Anyways, there’s a bottle in the bathroom cupboard.”

“Thank you, Georgie. You’re always so thoughtful.”

“Y’know, you could just move in with me. That way you won’t have to worry about not having things at mine anymore.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he speaks, but you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows nervously. “You’ve already got loads of stuff there anyways, why not just bring it all? You wouldn’t have to drive across the city every time you come over, for one.”

“I barely drive to yours anyways, you know. You always insist on picking me up,” You tease. George smiles, but you can tell he’s serious about wanting you to move in with him. You sigh, squeezing his hand. “Babe, I’d love nothing more, but…I could never afford to live with you.”

“I’m not going to have you pay rent or anything like that, darling. I wouldn't ask that of you.” George’s nose wrinkles, like it’s absurd of you to even think about it. “Just your company would be more than enough, honestly. Make the place less empty, more like…home.”

You can already imagine it. Falling asleep next to each other every night, waking up tangled together every morning, getting to come home and unwind with each other after long days. Breakfasts and afternoon teas and dinners you’d make together in George’s massive kitchen. Your stuff mingling with his in every room of the place.

Maybe you’d adopt a pet together one day, one that could keep you company every time George was away for races.

“Okay,” You say softly. You’ve already convinced yourself. “Let’s live together.”

George pulls to a stop at the red light, taking the opportunity to lean over into your space and kiss you gently. “Let’s do it, darling.”

Taking the next step in your relationship seems daunting, but George will be there to soothe any anxieties you have. He always is.

“Oh no! We forgot about the coffee.” He frowns, plucking the still full cup out of the holder suddenly. Then he shrugs, taking a giant sip of it. “Cute cup.”

“George, it’s cold!” You exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. “Just throw it out when we get home.”

“It tastes fine!”

“It’s probably stale.”

“I think it’s delicious.”

“You’re so weird.”

He chooses to ignore the muttered quip, letting a giant grin stretch his lips instead, eyes gleaming with excitement. “You called it home.”

“Well, it is now, isn’t it? Or will be soon enough.”

“Sure will. I’m thinking we move you in tomorrow.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. “I have to get out of my lease first. It might take a while too, my landlord is kind of an asshole.”

“I’ll give him double whatever you’re paying right now to let you out of it early. No, triple.”

“I don’t think he’d appreciate bribery, but he is a Mercedes fan.”

“Paddock passes and VIP club access to Monaco next season, done.”

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#george russell #george russell x reader #gr63 #gr63 x reader #george russell x fem!reader #george russell x you #gr63 x fem!reader #george russell fic #george russell fluff

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