#anyways flood my inbox pretty please

[saltcxrcle]

hi guys!! ive missed you all so so much and im back for today to celebrate sam's birthday!! so feel free to send any asks about sammy and ill be posting a fic, smutty blurb, and a social media au soon!

but i won't be going through my notfis until im fully back from my hiatus bc i will be dipping out until the end of finals week and i don't want to crashout looking at them lol but trust i will be going through everything and stalking everyone's blogs to see what ive missed when i officially come back!

[k-hotchoisan]

hiiiii <333 I have lovedddd lovvvveeeddd alll of your works I actually spent my day reading each and everyone of them I love it so muchhh!! 😭❤️

I have a request teehee, could you write one where Sannie is like a professor in your college and there’s little teasing here and there and where he ends up having her alas!! DOM - SAN ‼️💋

his favourite

<prof!san x fem!reader>

Prof Choi likes playing favourites.

You’re his favourite.

Genres/Warnings: smut, dom professor Choi San, pwp, face fucking, unprotected sex, oral (m receive) ,mutual pining, age gap, size kink, cream pies, mild jealousy plot, sir kink, light bondage (just tying up reader) teasing, sexual tension, teaching assistantxteacher obv forbidden but we still eat it up anyway!

Word count: 12.3K

a/n: happy birthday to the man of my dreams </3 enjoy this little choi san birthday treat. i put my love into this so please love this as much as i did! and thank you @bro-atz for the tidbits of help as always 🩷

apply for taglist here!

You stare at the laptop screen, scanning through your details on the application form, double, and triple checking that everything was filled in correctly. 

“Which professors are you trying as a teaching assistant for?” Your roommate asks, her neck craning over to see you attaching the file to six different emails, to six different professors within the department, pretty much answering her question the moment she reads off each professor’s email. 

“Why not try for the department chair?”

You scrunch your eyebrows as if it’s the first time you’re hearing that. 

“Who?”

“Professor Choi?”

Your eyes widen, your neck almost getting whiplash from how fast you turned to your roommate at the sound of his name. 

“Why the fuck would I try him?” 

Your roommate shrugs in an attempt to hide her amused reaction from your reaction at his name. 

“Who knows? I’m confident he remembers you even though you spent only one semester with him”, she hums turning away to pour herself another ice drink from the pitcher. “On a serious note, you may as well just get all the help you can get. Besides, what are the chances that Prof Choi sees your email? He’s the department chair. I’m sure his mailbox is just flooded anyway.” 

True, you think to yourself, turning your head back to your laptop, and adding the professor’s email address in. But you still hesitate, staring at the application form, your cursor hovering over the send button. Your roommate looks over at you, and she decides that your wishy-washy behaviour is just being the biggest nuisance on earth, so her hand flies over yours and helps you to press send, and she watches you freak out at her while she giggles and escapes after committing her crime, chasing your roommate around the kitchen island for a good seven minutes.

Settling back down in defeat, you sigh in your hands, giving yourself pep talks. 

Right. 

The chances are close to zero that Prof Choi will see my application anyway. 

The chances of him remembering me are close to zero anyway. 

You shut your laptop, and the applications are completely erased from your mind. 

“Yo, check your emails, babe. The application results are out for me”, your roommate says, her eyes glued to her laptop screen. 

You settle yourself down across her, a chilled drink in your hand, pulling up your email inbox. As you expected, you see the subject headline ‘Teaching Assistant Application Results’, and you expand the email.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you mutter, loud enough for your roommate to hear. Her head pops out from behind her screen. 

“Who did you get?”

“Choi San.”

Professor Choi San. His classes weren’t the bane of your existence—but he, himself was. 

And the fact that it only took one semester to solidify that claim. Almost everyone wanted to get into his class, so fucking many of them just squealing over how he looked almost god-like. You wonder how much of a swoon he would be, how much of the rumours that travelled down the stream were factual, though with thousands of students constantly fighting for a spot in his class, you sure were coloured surprised when you landed a spot in Professor Choi’s class. 

The moment he walked in, the whispers within the confines of the lecture hall erupted into gasps and squeals. Unfortunately, the rumours were right—the moment ProfessorChoi walked in, it was as if your eyes naturally followed his movement—confident strides in his steps dictated by his outfit—a simple dress shirt under a dark gray vest that accentuated his wide shoulders and skinny waist.  

He was so fucking handsome—his hair neatly slicked back, frameless glasses sat on his nose bridge, his sharp and small eyes hiding behind the lens. Undoubtedly, seeds of infatuation began lodging themselves in you. Well, it’s not like you had a chance with him anyway, especially when the gold band reflected from his ring finger being a huge indicator. Maybe keeping him as an eye candy would work out just fine. 

Prof Choi’s classes were interesting, and he as a professor, other than being a distraction during the majority of his classes, held his credentials. However, at times, some sarcastic comments would bubble to the surface, and even though he did tend to commend top-scoring students for tests, he still maintained professionalism for the most part—the content taught wasn’t rocket science anyway. You saw yourself being able to breeze through the syllabus for the most part until you received your grade for one of your essays. You stared at his comments, marked in red lines, circles, and words—tone cold and direct—not that you weren’t used to it, but this time? You felt his comments alongside him marking you down were completely unjustified. 

It was then that you pushed past the group of girls who would stay back after class to shamelessly flirt with him, under the guise of wanting to discuss more about the content taught that day, and you stood before the group, asking to speak to Prof Choi personally. Prof Choi did have people staying back after class to consult with him about grades, although they would stay shortly with him staying stern to his marking rubrics, but when he realised you weren’t backing down on top of the way you approached him so directly, it intrigued him.

His office was spacious, considering that he was the department chair—and without introductions, he had you dive in immediately in consultation. 

You wasted no time, flipping through the spent pages of your essay, pointing out areas where you felt his comments were unjustified. Prof Choi listened, and he refuted your points, some of which you decided to accept but not for one particular part;

“This part had no proper scientific support of your argument for this point-“

“Bullshit”, you cut him off. Prof Choi blinked, shocked at the blunt cut from you. His eyebrows were scrunched in confusion next, wondering if he heard right that a student not only just cut him off, but cussed at him.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s here. A small significance value is still something isn’t it?” You replied, pointing at the paragraph after. He glanced at the paper once more, forcing himself to focus while you fought back that your argument was supported. 

So you made Prof Choi sit before you and listen to your elaborations, and needless to say, he was rather impressed, although he had to hold his expression neutral. 

You came out of the consultation victorious—the day Prof Choi called you over after his class again, handing you your script, and you saw your total marks shooting up to a gorgeous score. Your head was so into the clouds that you returned a smirk along with a shrug—showing off your victory and satisfaction as your thanks—an I told you so, leaving the professor to stare after you in awe while you practically skipped to your seat. 

That sealed your fate. 

From then on, Prof Choi would have his attention on you—recognising which seat you picked to sit in in class, wondering why you hadn’t dared sit nearer. And when it came to picking people to answer questions, his gaze would fly to you immediately—either waiting to call you out once you raised your hand or simply calling you when he felt like it. For some sick reason, he finds the way your face scrunches up in stress when he calls your name in his honey-soaked voice amusing, and even adorable at times, though he would never admit it. But oh, did he love the comments and answers you would give him. 

Despite that assignment being the only one where you decided to consult Prof Choi, following every grade release of an assignment, he would single you out, especially after class, to fucking ask if you had questions regarding said assignment, which honestly started to freak you out—mostly because he never gave you the attention before, and you weren’t used to it. The whispering gossip in the class about you being the teacher’s pet slowly reached your ears too, and even Prof Choi heard it—and he only exacerbated that rumours by constantly giving you his attention. 

Every time you reached your dorm, the words that left your mouth which your roommate could recite verbatim, “I swear to god, Prof Choi has it out for me!”

Not to mention you were fucking relieved when the last day of his class rolled around, but unfortunately, his parting words to you were, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, y/n”. You did everything in your power to avoid getting into his class and even bumping into him, which seemed to work swell. 

Until now that is. 

Now here you are again, standing before the familiar heavy wooden door, staring up at the wooden plate, embossed with gold lettering “Department Chair Choi San” staring right at you. You had to physically drag yourself off your bed to prepare for the first day partnered with Prof Choi. And when your roommate’s words of “oh come on, he can’t be that bad. He’s hot!”, echoed through your ears, it all the more made you want to just ditch your first day by clawing your eyeballs out. 

You had to collect yourself before Prof Choi collected you. 

With a raised knuckle, you rap against the door, taking deep inhales in the process. His voice, which sounded deceivingly like honey, remained the same as you remembered. 

“Come in.”

You pause for a moment, embracing yourself before holding onto to doorknob and pushing his door open. 

There he was, Professor Choi, his eyes focused on the scripts on his desk, which had piled up. His space remained the same as you remembered, for the most part—shelves littered with awards and files, the same desktop taking up one-quarter of his huge ass desk, and the couch with the coffee table left to the side of the room. Prof Choi wore a stern look of concentration on his face, still preoccupied with finishing up marking his scripts. 

When his pen pauses and his gaze shifts towards the door, a small smile spreads across his face. He lifts his head and drops his pen, interlocking his fingers on his desk with growing amusement when his eyes meet yours. 

Fuck, he’s still so handsome.

“Professor Choi”, you greet, holding your expression neutral as you bow, forcing yourself not to fidget with your tote bag. 

“Y/n!” Prof Choi greets almost too enthusiastically. “I would assume you would be more than delighted when I picked you to be my teaching assistant.”

“Honoured, almost”, you reply. It’s taking all of your energy not to break his gaze. He’s staring at you with unreadable eyes, and you’re wondering if the fluttering in your chest is from the anxiety or the way Prof Choi is staring at you.

Prof Choi laughs, and it tickles your ears a little too good. 

“Sit. We have a lot to go through today”, he gestures to the seat before him, and you take it.

He switches on his monitor to his course syllabus and turns the monitor slightly towards you. 

“Oh, before we begin, it’s a pleasure meeting you again, y/n.”

Oh boy, was being Prof Choi’s teaching assistant a fucking handful. You knew it was gonna be rough, but to be assisting Professor Choi San? He was on another level—his schedule would be filled to the brim with meetings with the faculty on top of conducting classes weekly. You struggled in your first month, learning the ropes, especially from a busy and challenging professor like him. He wasn’t mean or cold at all, on the contrary, more direct and meticulous. Well, he had to be, considering his position. Nonetheless, it felt like he was always too busy to attend to your questions sometimes, and that would leave you to your own devices. 

You stand in the aisle, looking down at the assortment of foods lined up in the chiller. Has Prof eaten yet? Does he even eat? What does he even eat? By instinct, you pull out your phone and open his chat. 

[you]: Hi Prof. Have you eaten? I’m at the convenience store near the campus. I could grab something quick for you. 

A couple of minutes go by, but your phone doesn’t receive a ping, and you had to reach the office soon. So you pick up another tuna rice ball for the professor alongside yours before making a beeline for the cashier. 

Prof Choi hears the knock on his door and as usual, he utters his usual “come in”. His gaze lands on you, and he glances at the clock. 

“You’re on time today”, he points out. 

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. “I’m always on time, Professor.”

“You’re usually in a little earlier.”

“Right, because I got you this”, you reply, rustling through the plastic bag in your hands, fishing out the rice ball.

He looks up at you, confusion hinted in his expression. He doesn’t take the food yet. 

“What’s this?” 

“Tuna rice ball. Surely only having coffee in the morning is not filling your stomach.” 

You put the food in front of him. “Besides, I messaged you but you didn’t reply. So I just chose something safe. Unless you’re telling me you’re allergic to tuna or something.”

Prof Choi blinks. His hands reach out to take the snack from the desk, unwrapping the plastic packaging as he watches you leave his office to grab a mug of coffee. He glances over at his phone, and sure enough, your name is there with your message.

Since then, his reply would pop up in mere minutes whenever you asked him if he wanted anything to eat. 

Of course, the more you spent time with him, the more you grew comfortable, and all the thoughts you ever stressed about slowly faded off. Prof Choi grew more relaxed around you, internally grateful that you’re able to tank a significant fraction of his workload for him. Undoubtedly, you also come to realise that Prof Choi is human after all—he obviously would make mistakes, even as someone of his caliber, and deep inside, you found it rather cute, well, until you had to stop yourself from developing deranged thoughts. 

Not to mention, another problem seemed to pop up—his flirty banter. He likely picked up that it made you flustered sometimes, and since then, he wouldn’t let it go, relishing at the way pink creeps up your cheeks when he would say something that wasn’t like his ‘professor-self’, and at worst, feeding into your crooked thoughts. 

You stare at him as he types away, particularly, the metal band around his ring finger. You wonder who was the lucky lady who had the chance to be with him. You blink. 

What the hell were you thinking?

“It’s rude to stare, you know”, Prof Choi’s voice snapping you out of your daydreams. 

“I’m just wondering about your ring, that’s all”, you reply, forcing your attention back to your half-marked assignments.

“I’m not actually married”, he suddenly confesses, and for some reason, it makes your heart beat slightly faster. 

“Huh?” Is all you manage to reply. 

Prof Choi chuckles. He pauses his work on the desktop, turning his attention to you. Even though you have worked so closely with him for a while already, you can never seem to find your composure around him. 

Even though you see his face every week, you can’t seem to wrap your head around how insanely good-looking he is, how sometimes you struggle to maintain eye contact with him, because it doesn’t take long before you feel yourself slowly flushing. 

“I wear it on my ring finger so the students stop asking about my marital status”, Prof Choi clarifies. You watch him pull the ring from his ring finger and fit it over his index. 

“So you’re single”, you echo.

He nods, “I’m single.” 

What is this strange feeling of relief?

“What about you?” He suddenly asks. You’re not looking directly at him, and you don’t realise the way he’s looking at you attentively. And if you do, you just might combust.

“I’m…single too”, you answer, trying to meet his gaze, fidgeting with the red pen in between your fingers. 

“And why’s that? Too busy fighting with your professors for grades?”

You glare at him. 

“I think it was my professor picking fights with me”, you reply quickly, jabbing right back at him. 

You watch Prof Choi lower his gaze, a smile spreading across his cheeks—an actual smile—his dimples showing up. Oh fuck. Just when you thought you could depend on your ribcage to contain your heart properly, you found out Prof Choi could actually smile. 

When he looks up at you again, you break the eye contact, your gaze flying back to the papers before you. 

“You know, I’ve met many students, but you were the first to cuss out at me.”

You did? “I did?”

Your professor nods, cocking his eyebrow at the way you had seemed to have simply forgotten something as eventful as that. 

This time, Professor Choi bursts into a chuckle, completely amused by your reaction. 

“Is that why you kept-“

“Giving you chances to answer in class for credit? You should really thank me for that. Your grade for my class was one of the highest you know.”

You feel your cheeks flush. But before you can retaliate, Prof Choi cuts you off.

“Jokes aside, no. I think the discussion we had that afternoon had an impression on me. The cherry on top was you cussing at me. I liked that. Refreshing and endearing”, Prof Choi continues, his attention seeping back to the pile of scripts before him. 

“I think this side of Professor is pretty refreshing and endearing too”, you let it slip.

His pen pauses in mid-air. You don’t catch his gaze completely softening on you. 

As the semester continues on, you began easing into the class schedules. You watch prof get swarmed by a group of students, a usual ritual that happens right when the class ends. At this point, you had grown used to it. Sometimes the students would come and approach you instead, which honestly surprised you, but your heart would feel warm, knowing that these students trusted you.

It was then you became acquainted with another teaching assistant under Prof Choi, who joined shortly after you did—Choi Jongho. Initially, he came off as a rather shy individual, but the both of you warmed up quickly with each other, sharing the workload and bonding over gossip with each other. Gosh, was he fucking amazing with gossip, especially when it came to Professor Choi. Soon enough, the both of you were texting almost on a regular basis, the conversations weighing more towards academic topics sprinkled with a little gossip. 

“You’re going off with Choi Jongho?”

“Yeah”, you reply, bunching the papers in your hands. “I’ve got some things to discuss with him about.” Partially true. 

For some reason, even though your professor has been completely swamped with papers to grade and meetings to attend, you would always find him loitering around your desk from time to time. He seems to especially enjoy doing that when you’re around. 

“You’ve been spending an awfully lot amount of time with him”, Prof Choi points out, looking over your shoulder as he watches you scribble on another student’s paper. 

“Yeah, we get along well actually. Isn’t that a good thing, Prof? Both your teaching assistants are besties.”

For some reason, that makes Prof Choi frown, but you’re too absorbed in your work to notice it.

A couple of minutes go by, and you still feel his presence, not that you mind, but you’re starting to find it peculiar that he’s been hanging around your desk a lot recently.

“Do you have something to discuss with me, prof?” You ask, eyes still glued to the paper.

“Yes”, he replies, taking another sip from his mug. “What do you think of Choi Jongho?”

Such a random question to ask, you think. Maybe he’s just making sure you and Jongho get along well?

You pause, giving yourself to think, tapping the back of the red pen against your bottom lip, taken aback by Prof Choi’s sudden question, but the conversations you and Jongho had resurfacing into your brain, and a giggle escapes you, which makes Professor Choi subconsciously narrow his eyes and furrow his brows. 

“He’s fun to be around, and despite how he looks, he’s actually got a wicked sense of humor. Oh god, wait. Let me tell you what you he did that day while we were having lunch together-“

You turn your head to continue to run your mouth, only to slowly trail off when realise his face is just inches from yours, and you swear your heart is on a treadmill from the lack of distance between you and Prof Choi. It’s as if time paused, the both of you sinking right into each other’s gazes. You can’t help but notice how intense his gaze is, and you can’t seem to decipher his thoughts, but from the way this situation played out, you swore he’d just lean in and kiss you. 

Your heartbeat accelerates at the thought—why would he do that?

And when his fingers are on your chin, your rational thoughts are getting flushed out. 

“That’s an awful lot of cute things about Choi Jongho. I’ve never heard you talk about another Choi like that.”

You swallow hard, your body still frozen in spot. 

“What do you think about him then?” 

“Jongho? I was just-“

“No. Choi San.”

Oh god. You could only stare back at him. Prof Choi tilts his head, his eyebrows raised, waiting for his answer. His cologne floats and almost shuts down your senses—has he always smelled this good? 

The corner of his lips curl slightly at the way you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. 

“I t-think Prof-“

“San. Choi San”, he corrects you. 

Another hard swallow the more you try to focus your gaze on him. 

“I think Choi San’s a great professor. He’s really competent, a lot softer than he presents himself as-“

Fuck you can’t think. Not when he’s staring down your eyes to your lips like that. 

“Mmhm.”

“And he’s really so-“

Then a loud knock echoes across the room, breaking the tension. Prof Choi’s body doesn’t shift, but he looks up at the door, shouting “door’s unlocked”, before he stands back upright, adjusting his glasses and walking back to his desk. 

Jongho’s head peeks in, then he bows at Prof Choi before he walks to your desk. You stare up at him with a forced smile. 

“Ready to go? I was waiting for your message”, Jongho says, his eyes glancing over the professor, then you, a strange feeling that he probably interrupted something. 

You nod, while shoving your belongings into your bag, then slinging it on your shoulder. 

Barely being able to look at Professor Choi, you still force yourself to, bowing goodbye to him. 

“Thank you Prof Choi. See you tomorrow.”

He looks up from his desk, right into your eyes. 

“See you too, y/n.” 

You can’t help but wonder how far things would have gone if Jongho didn’t knock the door.

Jongho isn’t an idiot. Initially, he assumes that you and the professor were on much friendlier terms considering that you came in before he did. Granted, the workload he would give the both of you was the same, he would take the initiative to have lunch with the both of you both individually and together whenever he had pockets of free time, but what roused his awareness was the lingering glances Professor Choi would cast at you from time to time, the way he seemed to relish the reactions you would give him whenever he teased you. 

He notices the way your ears would grow red even when you roll your eyes at the professor and jab him with another playful snarky remark. 

Though he wonders how dangerous things could get, Jongho thinks this could get interesting. 

The semester continues smoothly, the only change being that Jongho being absent from the office more often due to his other commitment to soccer. You remember him telling you he had quite a big match coming up, the sparkle in his eyes bright and twinkling whenever he talks about said sport. 

If he wasn’t in classes, he’d be off for training, hopping into the office from time to time to pass Professor Choi marked scripts and reports. Prof Choi pretty much didn’t mind—he stated as long as Jongho did his job, he could be free to do what he wanted outside of being a teaching assistant.

Needless to say, the office was mostly Prof Choi and you, now even more time spent with him with Jongho mostly being absent. By then, the both of you had grown so accustomed to being in each other’s presence that banters amongst each other became the norm—the both of you competing with each other with unserious remarks, laced with almost flirtatiousness, just to see who would back down first. 

Then came the proximity—since Prof Choi would wander over your desk as if he had all the free time in the world, he would somehow strike up another conversation with you, leaning over to hear you better, his arm bumping into yours to look over at the papers you were grading to check if you were doing them correctly. But what he absolutely adores the most is when you’d roll over to his desk to pester him with your questions—sometimes even testing him on his own content. 

He likes the way he gets to be closer to you. He likes the way your shoulders touch his when you lean in to push the paper towards him so he can see the script better. 

He likes the way you would finally look up and meet his eyes when you’re done formulating your question, waiting to hear his opinion.

Today is no different—Professor Choi being so used to the notion that he would only be seeing you in the office, the corner of his lips pull upwards at the thought of the types of banter you would have with him, the kinds of shenanigans you would bring into the office.

He hears your knock at the time you would always arrive, watching the way the door opens, and your head popping from the door, as you greet, “Hi Prof!” 

“Good morning, y/n”, he would greet back, sipping on his morning coffee. 

You walk over to his desk, dropping his tuna rice ball. “Here you go. Enjoy your breakfast, Prof!”

“You can stop calling me Prof”, Prof Choi suddenly says, twirling the pen in his hand. For a second, you wonder what triggered the sudden change. You’ve been calling him Prof since day one, pretty much used to it already, the only time you didn’t was when he—never mind. The thought of it is making your face flush again. 

“Is there something else you want me to call you?” You ask, trying to calm your heartbeat down when that memory suddenly resurfaces. 

“You can call me San. I’m fine with that. I know you’re still my teaching assistant but we’ve been working closely. I think it’s fine to drop the Prof honorific.”

You try out. 

“Sure thing San”, you reply. “Though it’s gonna take a while for me to get used to this.”

“If you’re able to cuss in front of me, calling me by my name should be the least of your worries, y/n”, San teases.

You raise your hand, feigning a stance ready to smack him before you lower your arm, listening to the way San laughs before rolling your eyes and sinking into your desk. 

The day marches on as normal—attending a class or two with Jongho before he’s whisked away to his soccer practice, leaving just the two of you for the rest of the day. 

San is leaning at your desk again, looking at you typing out your report. He squints slightly before he leans down to your shoulder, his finger pointed at one of the paragraphs, asking you about the content. You answer him, and when you turn your head once you’re done, you find yourself looking at San’s side profile mere inches away—his sun-kissed skin, his pretty lashes, his thick, well-trimmed eyebrows, and the way his lips protrude out a little—he always looked like he’s pouting in the most adorable way. 

That’s when you realise a problem seemed to be bubbling up to the surface, try as you might to ignore it, repress it—that you’re falling for your professor. Fast. 

You snap back to reality, finally aware of how loud your heart is beating against your rib cage, and your hand flies up in instinct as a divider between you and San. San blinks at the sudden movement, confused. 

“Y/n, what are you doing?” He’s not moving. 

“I think I’ve got something on my face.”

San cocks an eyebrow. “You do? Let me check-“ 

His palm covers yours, bringing it down to the table, and you’re kicking yourself for sprouting such a self-sabotaging lie.

Why? Because now San has his hand on yours on top of his face in full view of yours, his eyes meeting yours before his gaze flutters around your face, checking for whatever hell you said was on your face. 

His gaze meets yours and for a split second, something else glints in his eyes. 

The door swings open, and San straightens himself up, slightly irritated at the interruption, leaving you to spin your chair away from San, your hands cupping your cheeks, the heat warming you up against the cold air conditioner. The heat from his hand on yours lingers for a little longer. 

Jongho walks in, his duffel slinging on his shoulder with his shoe bag clipped. 

“Hey, Prof. Hey cutie.” 

San blinks. What did he just call you?

“Hey jjongie. Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” You ask, forcing yourself to focus on your colleague instead. 

“Supposedly, yeah, but there was a sudden downpour midway so training got cancelled. Might as well get some work done here”, he shrugs, dropping his bag onto the floor. 

San is wrapping his head around the fact that you and Jongho seem to have pet names for each other. 

“Didn’t miss me too much right?” Jongho teases. “‘Cause I did!”

“That’s a first coming from you jjongie”, you reply, surprising a smile. 

“Of course! It’s been a while, how could I not? We should go eat dinner together sometime.”

San only stares on in silence, pretending to sink back into his grading.

Jongho walks over to your desk, taking his turn to look at your report. San watches the way Jongho’s arm is comfortable over your seat, as he asks you about your report, talking to you as if San wasn’t just behind you seconds before. 

The fact you’re entertaining him—hitting his arm playfully and laughing at his remarks—all the more rouses some kind of irritation in San. It’s like a boiling pot. 

He pretends he doesn’t see the way Jongho leans in to whisper something into your ear although it’s bugging him so fucking much. For once, he wishes Jongho’s training didn’t cancel. 

“Oh right before I forget”, Jongho mutters, rushing back to his desk, digging through his bag. He walks back over with a paper in hand and places it before you. You glance down and your face brightens up—it’s a ticket to his game. 

“For real?” You exclaim, your eyes bright, taking the ticket in your hands. “I’ll definitely make time for you.”

“I’ll score goals for you, kay?” Jongho teases, his eyes glancing at San, who is progressively looking more irritated. 

“Ah, Is San not going?” 

“San? Since when were you on first name basis with him?” Jongho wonders aloud, the suspicion only brewing even more. 

“Jongho, don’t you have reports to hand in?” San asks curtly. 

You feel like you are caught in between crossfire for some reason. 

Jongho smiles, then has your head under his arm, which elicits another irritated reaction from your professor. 

You have never had Jongho done this before. In fact, you recall him offhandedly mentioning that he’s never a physical touch person, and that anything with physical touch makes him shudder. 

“Relax, Prof. You’d rather your subordinates get along than not right?”

Just when San is about to reply, Jongho suddenly exclaims. 

“AH, coach is calling me back to the field. Prof, I’ll send you the report by tomorrow okay? See you guys!”, Jongho hums as he runs back to his desktop to turn it off. 

“Has he always been like that?” San wonders aloud, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“I guess. It’s actually what makes him cute.”

“Cute? You think Jongho is…cute?” 

“Is he not? Doesn’t he remind you of a bear? Big and cuddly.”

San clears his throat, and you watch him walk over to your desk, his hand resting on the tabletop. He leans in. 

“So… you find it cute when he gives you pet names?”

“Well, I mean-“

“You find it cute when he plays with your hair?” San curls your locks around his fingers. 

You can’t seem to get words to leave your throat. 

“You find it cute when he has his hands all over you like that?” He’s leaning in even closer this time, arms trapping you at either side.

“Prof-“

“No. It’s sir.”

Your mind is in a whirlwind at the way he’s towering over you, his scent the only thing filling your olfactory senses, the way he’s staring right into you, gaze sharp as a blade. 

“You find it cute when his touches run up your body like this?” His fingers are trailing up your arms, every touch he burns into your skin, and when his thumb pauses at your chin, you realise you’re royally fucked.

Once more, his face is mere inches away from yours. You wonder if you’ll be teased like two previous times before. 

“Of course you don’t. You’d rather I do that to you, right?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Yes, sir.”

His voice is barely a whisper, his eyes downcast, staring at your lips like it’s his reward to claim. 

“Good girl.”

Of course, he claims it.

His kisses are so greedy—his lips prying yours open, and you feel yourself completely give in to him, surrendering whatever resistance, rationale, repression to Choi San. 

You want more—you want seconds. Every swipe his tongue passes your lip, it makes your head float. How does someone taste this fucking good?

He pauses mid-way—barely a couple of seconds, to pull off his glasses and strew them across the desk—then goes back to devouring your lips. 

San would smile in between kisses when he hears your whimpers. He thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you tremble slightly at his touch. It all goes straight to his cock. 

He thinks you’ll be even more adorable when he ruins you. 

When San pulls back, he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, watching your glazed-out expression with amusement. 

"I'd love to continue messing you up, but I have a meeting to attend. I’ll deal with you later, sweetheart. See you next week.”

His touch lingers on your chin for a couple of seconds longer before he pulls away and shifts to walk back to his desk, leaving your heartbeat wild and erratic, and your thighs squeezed tighter.

Since then, that was all you ever thought about—the slight smile before his lips collided with yours, the way his words rang in your ears. You could barely meet his eyes. 

In more instances than one and with any chance given to him, he’d close up any physical distance he had with you. Worried that your emotions would bubble and overflow when he does that, you developed a habit of avoiding his eye contact. 

Even after classes, you swore he was casting you glances even with lines of students waiting to talk to him. 

“Did you piss Prof off or something?” Jongho asks as he shuts his laptop. 

“Why are you asking?”

He shrugs. “It’s just that he’s been eyeing you down like a hawk recently. Did something happen between the both of you?”

You freeze when the flashbacks of the taste of his lips return to your memory when you remember how hungry he looked just wanting to devour you. 

“Y/n?”

You blink, then force yourself to meet Jongho’s eyes. 

“No. Nothing happened. At least I hope I didn’t make any mistakes.”

“You’re fine. There’s a reason why the department chair chose his teaching assistants.”

You laugh softly at his words.

But when you hear San’s voice from behind you, you almost jump. 

“Y/n, Jongho, the both of you can wrap up here and head back to the office”, he instructs. You feel his warmth radiating from behind, and it only makes your heart jump at the proximity. 

You watch Jongho slowly pack up, small conversations sparking between the both of you about his soccer practice. 

You glance at the door. San isn’t back yet. 

“I think it’ll take him awhile to be back. The students there seem to really like him.” 

No doubt, the female students for this class seemed a lot more assertive, almost always demanding all of San’s time. Well, not that it should matter. It’s not as if he should mean anything-

“Y/n? Are you okay? You seem pretty off recently. Even Prof’s pretty worried”, Jongho’s voice grounding you back to the cold office. 

You force a smile and shake your head. 

“I’m fine. I guess it’s just so much workload to deal with.” 

Jongho places his hand on your shoulder in comfort, “You’re doing fine. You know you can approach either of us if you’re struggling right?”

You feel comforted, even though your messy thoughts weren’t even about the workload, so you return an assured smile before waving Jongho off for his soccer practice. 

You’re wondering what you’re feeling nervous about, because when the door of San’s room opens, you jolt slightly. 

“You’re still here?” You hear San ask. 

“Yeah. Need to reply to some emails and double-check some of their assignments.” Not a total lie. It’s the swirling feelings he’s been giving you whenever that day surfaces in your mind, the small bouts of attention he pays you and the touches he lets linger a little too long that’s all a dopamine rush in you. You can’t help but want more. But in the same breath, meeting his gaze will allude doom for you. 

San nods as he sits back at his desk, going right back to his computer. The silence continues for awhile and you’re surprised that you’re even able to concentrate. 

“Y/n”, you hear San call you. 

Your gaze doesn’t break from your screen. “Hmm?”

“Come here. Help me look at this.”

You walk over, ignoring the way your heart is just pounding so damn loudly. It’s painfully obvious that San is staring right at your face, and it’s also painfully obvious that you’re avoiding looking at him. 

And it definitely seems to be ticking him off. 

Your eyes stay locked to his screen reading off whatever is on the screen, and nothing is processing in your brain. 

“It looks good”, you curtly reply, trying to ignore the fact that you’re being stared down by a certain professor. You turn away, your eyes still not acknowledging San, only for your professor to stop you in your tracks. 

“Now where do you think you’re going?”

He’s making you face him now. 

You’re still not giving him eye contact. 

“Back to my desk?” You say, looking off into the distance. But San seems to have other plans. 

“You know ‘looks good’ isn’t the feedback I’m looking for, right?”

Shit. You know that clear as day. 

Now San has both his arms trapping you on his desk. 

You somehow still manage to avoid his sharp gaze even when you’re backing up against him, easily letting him corner you.

His belongings are strewn all over the desk when he pins you down. By some miracle, only papers flutter down his desk. 

And you’re finally looking right at him. 

“You’re finally looking at me, y/n”, he states the obvious. “Now tell me, did I do something wrong?” 

“No, you didn’t, sir”, you reply curtly. 

He leans in closer. 

“Then why are you avoiding my eye contact?”

You shut your eyes and squeeze them. There’s no pure way out of this—your dirty thoughts are seeping into the smallest crevices of your brain, and the more San is prodding you, the more it makes you throb.

“It’s because that evening when we…” you feel your cheeks burn with every word leaving your lips. 

San is waiting for you to continue. 

“When we kissed…couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“And?”

“It made me want…more.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Has anyone told you how adorable you are when you’re honest?” He chuckles. “I’m gonna finish what we started sweetheart, like I promised.”

It makes your heart flutter. 

“Am I getting your consent for this?”, San’s voice rings in your ears. You’re finding it hard to focus, especially when his thumb is pushing past the corner of your lips, and you’re just growing wet as fuck. 

This is not right. This is so dangerous. 

“Yes sir”, you reply back, trying to ignore the way your cunt is just tingling from the feeling of San’s thick erection pressing against you.

“That’s my good girl”, he praises before he dives in for a hungry kiss, his fingers roaming around your body, squeezing your tits before he unbuttons your shirt at an agonising pace. He smiles on your lips when he hears your soft gasp, and he presses his lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, sucking and biting the soft skin against your neck, his erection growing tighter against his trousers when he hears you moan and squirm. 

When he’s satisfied with the light marks he decorated down your neck, his lips are pressed against your ear, and his hands are moving dangerously close to your cunt, and inevitably, your bottoms are off in seconds, leaving you in your pretty panties. 

“I would prefer fucking you on my bed instead for the first time, but taking you on my desk? Maybe not too bad.”

Your cunt squeezes at the sound of San cussing. You never thought he’d sound this fucking hot. 

He groans when his fingers press against the soaked patch of fabric hiding your pussy. All that wetness for him. He bunches up the fabric and rubs it against your clit, the friction drawing frustrated whimpers from you, much to his satisfaction. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and it’s driving you crazy.

San’s fingers finally hook against the waistband of your panties, sliding them off your legs, and pocketing them, much to your shock. 

And he doesn’t give you much time to focus on that because when he pulls his cock out from his unzipped pants, it makes your head spin from how thick Choi San is. 

“Sir, I’m not sure-“

“It’ll fit, sweetheart, like it’s made for me”, is all the warning San gives before he lines up to your hole and pushes his cock in. 

You can’t tell what’s fucking you up more—the way his cock is stretching you open or the San groaning in relief when he finally gets to stuff you full. 

You bat away your tears, his cock so fucking full inside of you, pressing against your walls, being squeezed so perfectly by you. 

God, Choi San thinks he’s in heaven. 

His fingers brush across your cheeks, collecting your teardrops. His eyes lack any ounce of empathy. 

“Aw, are you crying because it feels good? You look so fucking pretty crying when I’m stretching you open.”

You barely find the words to reply to him, all stuck in your throat, your mind only flooded by the way San’s cock is buried in your cunt, your thighs trembling from the pleasure. It’s almost sickening. You know you shouldn’t be doing this—not with your professor, not on his fucking desk, but when he has you wrapped you around his finger and cock fucking the daylights out of you, it’s a temptation you can never resist. 

A soft hiccup escapes past your lips when San pulls out almost all the way, his cock covered in a sheen of slick and precum before he pushes himself in once more, groaning when you clench around him for the nth time. 

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart. God, I could just fuck you all day. You’d like that right?”

You’re barely keeping track, eyes rolled to the back of your head while your thighs twitch from the pleasure, but you manage to hold the eye contact, and through blurry tears, you mutter a weak, “Yes sir”. 

“Of course you do”, San hums before he pulls out once more and starts fucking you dumb on his desk. 

No matter how much you try to cover your mouth, bite your tongue or your lip, your moans only come out louder in defiance, the dopamine shooting up your pussy over and over again whenever San’s cock hits your pretty spots. 

Your mind is addicted to the way San’s shirt is buttoned down his chest, his cleavage almost fully out for you to gawk at, the way strands of his hair cling to his forehead because of the sweat, the way his eyes roll back when he feels you squeeze him with every loud fuck, and the way he looks down to you from time to time before he eats up your pathetic moans with hungry kisses. 

He fucked you up so good, you didn’t even realise it until now. 

“S-San”, you manage out a whimper, “please…”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

You don’t even know what you’re begging for. 

“Please… you feel so fucking good. I’m gonna cum. It’s so fucking good”, you babble, trying to force your eyes open. 

San can’t help but smirk when his ego is being stroked so nicely like that, especially by you. He’s a good person, of course, he’ll give what his good girl wants. 

His thumb slides south on your body until you feel the ticklish sensation of him on your clit. Cream and precum pooling at the base of his cock makes it even worse for you—with every graze, his finger pressed onto your clit, the knot tightened in your stomach. 

Your nonsensical strings of words only push San to tease you more as he endearingly watches you break slowly when your orgasm builds up. 

Your body twitches, your back arches, your eyes roll back, white splashes beneath your eyelids. Your orgasm burning through you while you cry out San’s name and you twitch pathetically on his cock, letting your cream leak all over his wet cock. 

“Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?”, you hear San curse. He fucks you through your orgasm, the overstimulation building up. The sensitivity feels so fucking good. 

His hand catches your jaw, and he forces you to meet his eyes. 

“Wanna pump you full of my cum, keep you so fuckin’ full for days on end,” he huffs, “but not now, sweetheart.”

Not that you minded, but there’s a strange tinge of disappointment ringing at the back of your head. 

San thrusts into you a couple more times before he pulls out, his thick and wet cock resting on your pelvis, twitching as his hand takes over. 

Nothing can beat Choi San’s fucking face when he cums. He looks like he’s in fucking heaven, and he’s tearing up the sky because of you. His fingers leave light marks on your thighs, you hear him groan at such a low tone that your cunt flutters uselessly against the air. Translucent spurts land on your skin, but it barely registers in you—you’re too busy swooning over the way your Professor just cummed over your body. 

San’s high dies down, and he catches his breath, casting you a glance, red dusting his cheeks, before he reaches out for the tissue box to clean you up. 

A quick kiss on the lips before he goes on to collect all the papers all over the floor.

That night he drives you home, filling the space with light conversations as if he didn’t just railed you on his desk. 

It’s only when you reach home that you realise one important thing—San still has your panties. 

You know you shouldn’t be telling secrets to your colleague, especially when it’s about your fucking boss. But here you are, facing Jongho, who has his arms crossed in front of you. 

“What’s up with you and Prof?” You predict the words that leave his lips. 

You hesitate to tell him, unsure how you should even say it, where to even start. 

The worst part you knew clear as day was that nothing changed since that day. You chalked it off as San being swamped with assignments to deal with, that’s why the topic was never brought up again, but something still irked you. The only comfort you had was that the semester was ending, and so was your term as San’s teaching assistant. 

Maybe it was how it was meant to be. Just nothing more than that.

But when you realise the dreaded feeling prickling at the back of your eyes, you knew you were fucked. 

“I don’t know how to even start jjong”, you sigh. Jongho scrunches his eyebrows. 

You watch his expression switch from one to the other. You expected him to freak out at you, yell at you for unprofessionalism or something, but he doesn’t. 

“It’s so fucked up. But I just can’t help but wonder if he feels anything”, you mutter. The thought of you not being the only one he’s doing this with makes your stomach churn. But somehow, in the most twisted ways, confiding Jongho made you feel slightly better. 

“Well, looks like we’ll have to play that card I guess”, Jongho shrugs. “But you should mentally prepare yourself for the results, that’s all I gotta warn you. I just need your consent to play along.”

It’s a risky bet you’re playing, but drastic times called for drastic measures, right?

As the semester closes to its end, so does the workload. San feels a lot lighter on his shoulders, and while he’s grateful for his teaching assistants for lifting a significant amount of workload off him, the end of a semester meant the end of the working relationship between him and his teaching assistants. He usually doesn’t feel that much, considering he has had many teaching assistants in the past, but for some reason, he feels a sense of discomfort lodged in his stomach when he thinks about having to let them go.

Especially one of them. 

He sighs, removing his glasses from his nose and shutting his eyes while reviewing the exams. San feels like a fucking idiot when his eyes land on your empty desk, his frustration bubbling when you cross his mind again. 

Even though he pretends to keep himself busy by flooding his mind with work, somehow, you would bubble to the surface once more, pushing him into the pits of frustration when he’s reminded of the way you get a kick arguing and refuting him just to get a reaction out of him, the way you taste like sweetest thing on earth he’s ever tried and the way you completely unravel when San fucks every single thought out of you—

He bites his cheek. 

No. He has to keep it professional. At least, until the term is over. 

He just doesn’t know how to tell you. 

He knows he’s entered deep waters when he crossed the line that evening, the sight of you undone right before him snapping all his rationale. More than anything, he’s suffering the withdrawals, maybe that’s the punishment he has to bear. 

He glances at the colourful ticket at the corner of his desk. It’s Jongho’s big game. Even though he usually doesn’t let himself intertwine with his subordinate’s personal interests, it’s hard not to. 

In addition, you’ll be there. Maybe he’d snag you after the game and talk to you properly. 

The meeting ran overtime, San glances down at his silver watch, realising he’d missed almost thirty minutes of Jongho’s game. Despite the exhaustion, he pushes it aside and heads to the stadium. 

He watches the brightly lit scoreboard as he takes a seat on the bench, Jongho’s team is in the lead by one point. 

Somehow he gets wrapped up in the game, cheering when Jongho’s team takes championship as the benches all burst into loud cheers too. 

He gets up to leave, already thinking of drafting a text to congratulate Jongho in his head, maybe get him a small congratulatory gift on the side. 

Then he spots you, just rows below. Now, he’s walking down as if on instinct, to get to where you are.

San pushes past the crowd to approach you. He’ll offer to drive you back—he knows it’s all an excuse but anything to get you into his space once more. 

His arm outstretched, reaching out to tap your shoulder, then suddenly stopping when he sees Jongho appear right in front of you. That’s fine. San could just congratulate him at the same time—

Which all of those thoughts immediately disintegrate when he watches Jongho cup your cheeks with his hand, his eyes widening in complete silent horror as Jongho leans into you for a kiss. 

You seriously doubt that Jongho’s plan would work. Didn’t San decide not to come anyway? You heard it with your own ears too. 

Nonetheless, you pushed it to the back of your mind, focusing on cheering for your friend, watching the leading scorer jump from one team to the next. You couldn’t help but erupt into cheers when Jongho’s team won, screams echoing through the open stadium. 

You watch Jongho walk up to the benches where you are, and his arms wrap around you, his smile big and bright, competing with the stadium lights. 

“Congratulations, baby bear”, you tease, pushing against his shoulders lightly. Jongho inches close to you. 

“He’s behind you by the way”, Jongho mutters, loud enough for you to hear, but not long enough for you to process, because his hands are cupping your jaw, his thumb pressed against your lips. 

He hears you muffle some kind of question but your lips stay sealed. 

“You owe me one for this,” is the last thing you hear before he leans in. Your eyes widen in shock, and you freeze in your spot, even though his lips don’t meet yours, evidently separated by Jongho’s thumb, his action had caught you off guard.

You barely have the capacity to process what had just happened, and you feel someone’s warmth tightening against your wrist. 

Jongho lets go of you immediately, but you’re staring right at your professor, who is staring right at Jongho with an unreadable expression, with his fingers curled tightly against your wrist. It feels like an eternity since you saw him. He’s not wearing glasses today and his hair is down instead of his usual slicked-back look, donned with a simple dress shirt and tie which framed his wide shoulders so perfectly.

“Congratulations on your win, Choi Jongho. I believe you should be with your team to celebrate right?”

Jongho only smirks back. “Right. See you babe. Thank you, Prof. See you next week.”

Jongho casts you a glance, the mischief twinkling in his eyes before he turns his heel down the stairs and back to the field. 

What the fuck just happened?

And you find yourself staring up at the male before you, his gaze piercing into yours. 

“Prof—San?” You blink. “I thought you weren’t-“

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart. Why would I not want to see the cute relationship my teaching assistants have right?” His voice is laced with venom. 

San doesn’t really elaborate further, leading you to his car, sealing your fate once more when the passenger doors close shut. 

He’s all over you. His body is burning up, maybe just as fast as yours is, and it’s making you feel dizzy. His moves are aggressive, impatient and you swear you feel something else too—desperation. 

“S-San—“ you gasp, in an attempt to take control of something.

“It’s sir to you, sweetheart”, his voice low and gentle, but commanding. Goosebumps scatter across your skin, making you shiver in response when his palms slide up your waist. 

You never saw it coming—from the second his hand grabbed yours, pulling you away from Jongho, his eyes locked into yours for a moment before he turns to Jongho, then to the car ride back, where you noticed the way his knuckles turned pale from gripping the steering wheel. On the walk to his car, you asked him where you were going, and all he did was turn to you and reply, “We’ve got things to talk about, don’t we, sweetheart?”

Now you’re becoming undone once more under San’s touches, trapped beneath him like the first time, now at his place, on his fucking couch instead. 

“It was just foolish of me to just let it be, wasn’t it?” He asks. “Fucking you dumb on my desk wasn’t a good enough indicator, was it?”

“S-sir…!”

“And you think it’s cute getting all cuddly with Jongho? Letting him kiss you all over, touch you all over?” San mutters, his fingers wrapped around your throat, his grip tightening slightly and you’re sure he’s about to leave light imprints. 

But oh, was it so fucking exhilarating—the thought of Choi San riled up like that, a sight you’ve never seen before, and you’re not sure if fear or excitement running through your veins right now, but what you do know, is that if he finds out that your panties are completely soaked through, you’re fucking done for. 

His lips collide with yours again, branding himself as some kind of oxygen thief when he’s turning your mind into complete mush. 

“I’m not sure if it’s a little game to you sweetheart, but if it is, I think you need a reminder.”

You breathlessly look up at him, and he looks ethereal even when he’s panting and looking pissed as hell. 

“What reminder, sir?” You dare ask back. 

The side of San’s lips tugs upwards. His hand leaves your throat and trails down your blouse, effortlessly unbuttoning the apparel until he tugs it off you, panting at the sight of your tits hugged by your lace bra. Your bottoms are off again on the floor of his bedroom, alongside any ounce of rationale. Your soaked panties are agonisingly pulled off your legs, and before you know it, his hands spread them open too. It takes all of San’s self-control to not stuff you full. At least, not yet.

“It’s my cock you’re gonna cum all over. Even when you have another guy’s lips on yours, it’s my name you’re gonna fucking scream.”

Oh. Oh god. 

The pieces of what Jongho was trying to do suddenly come together, unfortunately, the realisation doesn’t last long because San has his lips greedily on yours again on top of the way his full-blown erection is pressing onto your pussy. 

“Sir”, you manage out a weak mutter when he finally pulls away, trying to press and grind against his clothed dick for some friction or anything to rid the burn that’s going through your body. But San remains still. 

“Use your words since you love using your mouth so much.” Like kissing Choi Jongho. 

Your mind is a complete puddle. 

“I really…fuck. I really need you to fuck me right now, sir”, you beg, red flushing your cheeks, but it’s not from the shame. There’s a feral glint in San’s eyes that you don’t miss. 

“No”, is all he answers, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach. 

“Not until I’ve fucked your mouth full, sweetheart.” 

All you can do is watch him speechlessly as he hooks his index finger on the knot of his tie and loosens it, unraveling it back to its original form. 

“Hands together”, he commands you, and you do so immediately, basking in the scent of his cologne while he leans into you, his hands tying knots around your wrists with his tie. “Don’t let it loosen, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now on your knees.” 

You’ve never dropped to your knees so fast.

San forces you to watch him unbutton and lower the fly of his trousers, and you’re just doing your best not to get drool on his expensive carpet. 

When his cock springs out, you’re also forced to watch him fuck his palm at a slow pace, drinking in his groans, slick staining your inner thighs, and the fucking floor next if you don’t do anything. 

His cock is heavy against your cheek when he taps it there, and your tongue slips out of your mouth by instinct, given experimental kitten licks on his slit, before his fingers catch your chin, and he forces you to look up at him. 

“Look at me”, he instructs. 

You do. You do your best not to break the eye contact, trying not to be sidetracked by his big fucking cock, but your eyes can’t help but dart to his appendage. 

“No, keep your eyes on me”, he redirects once more, his fingers fixing your head in place. 

Then he slides his cock into your mouth and pulls out a choked moan from you. 

“That’s it. Good girl”, he grunts when you start bobbing your head, fucking his cock with your mouth. 

His fingers trail to the back of your head, but he’s using all of his strength not to force your head down. 

But as you pick up the momentum, it’s an automatic reaction to push your head down so his cock hits the back of your throat. Your eyes are watering but fuck you feel like you’re in fucking heaven. Your head spins whenever his wet cock is forced down your tight throat, and you break eye contact a few times, which San has to tap your jaw to make you keep eye contact while he fucks your face. 

“I’m cumming, sweetheart. Fuck. Keep that pretty little mouth open for me yeah?” He groans, bucking his hips, letting streaks of warm white paint your throat and mouth, watching the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes, taking his cum in your mouth like a good girl. His good girl. 

He smudges his thumb against the corner of your lips before his arms carry you up, only to dump you on the couch.

Your back is on the couch again, hands still tied behind your back and legs up with San pressing his body weight on you.

He props your leg on his shoulder, and he stretches you open inch by inch. You gasp when he fills you up, your walls immediately clenching around him. 

“So fuckin tight for me, sweetheart. You take me so well.”

His thrusts are growing more aggressive mixed in with the possession that’s bleeding in and it’s setting your whole body on fire. Your words are caught in your throat when he’s buried into you to the hilt. He groans at the way your pussy is fluttering pathetically against him. 

It feels so fucking good that nothing but stars engulf your vision when his cock stuffs you full to the hilt again. His name leaves your lips like a mantra on top of broken moans and whimpers, and it only makes San fill up the space in your pussy all the more better. 

His shoulders are so wide that he’s towering over you, his fingers forcing you to face him whenever you’re drifting because of the pleasure, his eyes feral when you look so fucked out for him. And when he combines his heavy thrusts with a squeeze around your throat, it makes your mind shut off and your cunt cream all over his dick.

“Good girl, looking all so fucked out for me.”

 His cock is hitting all the perfect spots, and it’s driving you insane with the knot tightening in your stomach at such a fast pace. You think you’re sliding off the couch but San isn’t letting you—especially not when his thrusts are keeping you on the couch. His name continues to leave your lips in broken moans every time he fucks you. 

San snakes his fingers to your scalp and he tugs sharply, enough to force you to look up at him. You’re tearing up again, and it feels so fucking good with the way he’s keeping your hair tugged while he fucks the ever-loving shit out of you.

“My name does sound much better when you’re crying it doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

You choke back a moan when he hits your g-spot once more.

“Y-yes sir.” 

“How are you feeling?”

“Full. So full sir. Want more. Please. Need you to ruin me”, you beg once more, your mind floating in an endless euphoria.

“Oh, I definitely will”, San hums, watching in sheer pleasure as your eyes roll back when his cockhead presses perfectly against your g-spot over and over.

Before you realise it, your orgasm hits you like fucking train, spreading through your body like a fucking wildfire, engulfing every crevice of your body. 

He’s gonna break you, and you’re fucking loving it. 

“San-“, you cry out, not registering the way he’s wiping the tears off your eyes. “So good. You feel so good. Cumming so much-“ 

“I know, sweetheart. It feels so fucking good doesn’t it?” He asks with a smile, satisfied when you nod frantically while he rubs your thighs.

Your thighs are shaking from how good this all feels, cream staining your inner thighs and his cock when he pulls out. 

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart”, San reminds you. 

He turns you over, keeping one hand on your tied hands, while the other pressing your head against the back of the couch. He lines his cock back to your cunt, pushing into your hole once more. You choke on your moans again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes until he’s fully seated in you once more. 

The sounds are even wetter now, especially when you’re overstimulated, pussy just being so perfectly abused by Choi San. You fucking love the way his hands are around your neck, forcing you against the cushions when he fucks you dumb from the back. 

Your stomach is in knots once more, the feeling building up faster than the previous time, and all you can mutter is that it feels so good. San thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you’re not having banters with him and being this cock drunk for him. 

Then he pulls you off the couch, letting you catch a breath before he sits you on his lap, his cock still buried in your cunt, and starts bouncing you off his cock from below.

He alternates between melting your brain with his pornographic moans right at your ear and planting more love bites down your jaw. 

“Gonna cum again. You feel so fucking good in me. Oh god”, you hiccup through your tears, the sensitivity pushing your limit. 

“Cum as hard as you want, sweetheart. I’ll let you milk me dry, fill you up so fucking good that you’ll be leaking with my cum for the next two days.” 

That was enough to set you off. Your pussy convulses when your second orgasm hits, fireworks bursting in your eyelids, long drawn-out cries while San fills your tight cunt with his warm and thick cum, while his groans fill up in your ears. You feel his fingers massaging your thighs, coaxing you from your high. 

You’re dizzy, and light-headed as your head slumps against his shoulders, too spent to acknowledge the male behind you leaving more marks down your neck. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” San breaks the momentary silence, well aware that his softening cock is still in you. 

Your hand flies up to his chest to stop him, even though you’re still recovering from seeing stars. 

“We need to talk-“

“After we clean up”, he cuts you off, lifting you off his cock and carrying you bridal style to his bathroom. 

But you’re stubborn. 

“N-no. It wasn’t what you thought it was”, you say, feeling your tears well up in your eyes on top of the weight. 

The prickles are starting to form at the bottom of San’s heart, but he’s more focused on trying to hose you down with warm water. But he’s listening you run your mouth, not that he minded. 

“We didn’t kiss”, you reiterate. 

Now he’s just confused. He stares at you. 

“We just had sex, y/n”, San reminds you, trying not to let the red reach his cheeks. 

“No—I mean Jongho and I. We didn’t kiss”, you clarify.

San doesn’t really know if he should believe your words or his eyes, but now he’s focused on lathering your hair and body. 

“That wasn’t what I saw”, he replies, avoiding eye contact. 

“That’s cause we did this-“ you huff, turning his head to face you, imitating the way Jongho had slid his thumb between your lips and his, demonstrating San the fake kiss. 

San only stares at you wordlessly when you pull back, only more questions than answers. 

“But why would he do that for?”

“He was trying to rile you up.”

“For what?”

“To see if you felt anything for me?”

“By kissing you?”

Oh god. It felt like the more you explained, the more San was getting the wrong ideas. You let your head sit in your hands, unsure if it’s from the embarrassment or the fact that you don’t even know where to start. 

“It wasn’t a kiss, Choi San”, you groaned, your hands leaving your face, suddenly self-conscious that San is staring intently at you. “After we, um, fucked the first time, you acted like nothing happened, and I felt like shit about it, and I told Jongho and then…” you trail off, feeling your cheeks heat up again. It’s probably the hot water, at least that’s what you try to convince yourself with.

“I don’t kiss people I’m not in love with, San”, you sigh in defeat. Your eyes are downcast, but you feel his fingers cup your cheeks, and his lips press onto yours. You swear you could go another round again. 

The silence hangs in the air for a while, only the sounds of the shower filling the emptiness when he pulls back. 

“I didn’t do anything since after that evening because I wanted to properly tell you after the term ended.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I’m in love with you, too.”

You blink. Somehow that shocked you more than the both times he fucked your brains out. 

You don’t answer him because your head is just swarming with so many thoughts, and San lets you do so, satisfied that he’s finally have you quieten down so he can finish washing you up. 

Even when he’s dressed you in his oversized hoodie, San peppers you with kisses, basking in the way you sometimes cover his face with your hands to stop him, which only rouses him to continue to attack you with his lips.

San’s arms are tight around you when the both of you are finally on his bed. You smell like his favourite body soap and he can’t seem to get enough of it—nuzzling against the crook of your neck, muttering sweet nothings. You think this is probably your favourite version of Professor Choi. 

Your fingers twirl around his splayed-out locks, and you speak. 

“Prof Choi”, you tease, and San looks up, and it’s the first time you actually see him pout—it almost makes you combust. 

“I told you to stop calling me that”, he frowns, burying his face, feigning trying to cut off physical contact from you, which only makes you laugh in response. 

“I just wanted to disturb you”, you respond, trying to yank him back into your arms. “I do have a question though.”

His head pops up from his pillows and he stares at you, waiting for you to speak. 

“When did you realise you had feelings for me?”

He pauses, giving himself a couple of minutes to think. 

“The moment I received your teaching assistant application.”

📚 Bonus Epilogue 📚

“Prof Choi!” One of his teaching assistants calls out to him. 

He turns his head and attention to her, pushing up his glasses. 

“Yes?” 

“I need help with this part of the assignment. Could you help me check that I’ve marked it correctly?”

San nods, taking the papers from her. 

As he scans through her work, the teaching assistant’s eyes glance down at the band hugging his ring finger. 

“Prof, you’re married?”

San pauses his writing to glance at the glistening gold on his finger, and a small smile spreads across his cheeks. 

“You know, I used to wear a ring on my ring finger so students would stop asking me if I was married or not.”

She raises her eyebrows, her curiosity piqued. “So you’re not?”

“I am.”

Her eyes brighten, invested in her handsome professor’s love story. 

“Tell me more then”, she asks. 

San scoffs playfully, turning his gaze to her. 

“All I can tell you is that she’s always been my favourite.”

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @ywtf @woojirang @yuyusgirl

@jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie

network: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry.

Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.

Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 2k

Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3

Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.

Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.

You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.

Another rock hits your window.

You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.

"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."

"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.

You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.

"Hi, sugar."

"Hi, Steven."

He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.

"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"

"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."

You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.

"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"

He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.

"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"

You scoff.

"What? That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."

He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.

"I thought tonight was the big night?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."

You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.

"You always deserved so much better than him."

"Thanks, Steve."

"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."

The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.

"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."

"Because they're not good enough for you."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"

"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."

You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.

He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.

"I give up."

"With what?"

"Dating. Fuck it."

He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.

"You've barely even started."

"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."

"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."

"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."

"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."

"And you'll be fighting them off."

"Yes I will."

You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.

"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."

"Hey, some of us do know!"

"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."

"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."

"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."

"No?"

He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.

"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"

"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."

He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.

"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."

You exhale with a shudder.

"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."

"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."

You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.

"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."

He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.

"Steve?" you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"

He smiles, big and bright.

"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."

You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Well, then what are you waiting for?"

He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't usually ask," you tease.

It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.

"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."

You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.

"Kiss me. Please."

Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.

"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.

Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.

"Steve-"

"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."

You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.

"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"

Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.

Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.

You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.

"Babe, if you want to stop..."

"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."

You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.

"I love you too. So much."

You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.

"Let me make you feel good, okay?"

When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.

"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."

He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.

"You want more, pretty baby?"

"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."

He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.

He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.

"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."

"Stevie," you pant. "So close."

"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."

Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.

Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.

"You okay?"

"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."

"Told you the rumours were true."

You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.

He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.

"You replace it, don't you?"

"Hmm?"

"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."

He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.

"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."

You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.

"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."

"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."

"You're welcome."

Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.

The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.

The room is unchanged.

The people in it are not.

read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.

@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson

[pintrestgrl]

hi i miss yall can u plz flood my inbox w small prompts im bored

anyways here ya go

also none of my posts are proofread really so um … ok enjoy also LIKE I SAID FLOOD MY INBOX PUHLEEASE

farmhand!rafe with farmers!daughter!reader

you always thought rafe was cute. probably the cutest boy you had ever seen, considering you rarely left the farm. you often found yourself watching him work, eyeing how his biceps contracted as he worked.

this was another one of those times, as you sat on a wooden stool as he cleaned up. you caught him eyeing the valley of your tits adorned with a gingham bikini top a few times too. a gold cross draped down the middle too. you looked like a dream. his dream, in fact.

he finished up cleaning around the barn, sitting down on a shorter, little stool in front of you. now, here you had him all to yourself. you mumbled out a soft little, “hi rafe.” to him. he grinned, greeting you back. “hi, sugar.” he’d called you that since the day your daddy hired him. insisted it was because you were sweet, just like sugar.

“you hot?” he asked, to which you replied with a shake of your head and a pretty smile adorned with it. “yeah? i am.” you giggled a bit, replying. “take your shirt off.” he had on a dirty wife beater, and a frayed plaid flannel thrown over it. he raised his brows. “your daddy okay with me bein’ shirtless around you?” you rolled your eyes, “my daddy don’t care.” which was a straight shot lie. your daddy did care actually, quite a lot. rafe knew this too.

he clicked his tongue, clearly hesitant. you moved your white self pedicured toes up, trailing them down to the hem of the white tank, trying to pull it up with your foot. likely nudging his sleeping cock with the ball of your foot too. he grinned, grabbing your ankle tightly to stop his movements. “don’t get ahead of yourself, sugar.”

you rolled your eyes frustratedly, “my daddy’s probably sleepin’ anyway. jus’ take it off. please.” he sighed, dropping your ankle and taking off both articles of clothing adorning his top half. “you happy now?” you smiled, nodding back to him. he subtly grabbed hold of your ankle again, playing with the metal anklet laying on it.

you wiggled your toes against his forearm, giggling in the act. he grinned, watching you trail your foot all the way up to his cheek. “you wanna rub them? they hurt.” he yet again sighed, likely sick of your bullshit. “guess i can.” he rubbed the bottom of your foot, pressing deeply into the muscles. he kept this on, for a bit.

“you can kiss ‘em while your at it. he laughed, raising his brows. “you serious with me?” you nodded, clearly very expectant. he pressed a reluctant kiss to your ankles, trailing down to each one of your toes. “go a bit higher too.” he looked up at you from his position, not questioning it.

he kissed higher, reaching up to your calf. “higher.” you uttered again, demanding it almost. he rolled his eyes, likely not realizing how close he was getting to your pussy. he kissed up and up, his head basically in between your legs at this point. the kisses subtly, and slowly almost got wetter as he went up too.

he could smell you. smell the sweet juices that he himself had produced from you. “i really shouldn’t be doin’ this, sugar.” he warned, obviously stressed. you ran your hands through the greasy bangs on his head, uttering back. “it’s fine. nobody knows i’m even in here.” he sighed, letting his forehead rest on the fat of your thigh.

you were getting desperately horny. it was true, even catholic girls ovulated. you had to convince him to do something, anything. “rafe?” he lifted his head, looking up at you. “yeah?” you kept his eye contact, taking a sharp and deep breath. “wanna take my shorts off.”

his brows furrowed, “for what, sugar?” you rolled your eyes at his obliviousness, “rafe. can you— just, do something?” he was obviously confused, waiting for you to elaborate. “want you to eat my pussy, rafe.” you mumbled, oh so quietly. his eyes shot open wide at this, almost yelling a “what?” back at you. you were embarrassed, to say the least.

you figured he would reject you. but he spoke back, now at a much more appropriate volume. “but— your daddy. he’s just right inside.” you scoffed. obviously you knew that. it was just a matter of how much you cared. “it’s fine. he won’t come out here. it ’ll be fast. please, rafe. ain’t gonna tell nobody, swear.” he sighed, rubbing his temple.

it went quiet for a second, and you had given up any hope for an agreement. that was, before you heard his words. “you swear you ain’t gonna tell a soul?” you smiled, getting wetter at his words. “not a single soul.” he nodded, his dirty hands reaching for the button of your small denim shorts.

he pulled them down your body, admiring the white cotton panties you wore. adorned with a tiny red bow. matching the gingham of your bikini top. he pulled those down too, watching as you leaned back against a wall of the barn. god, were you wet. he spread your glossy lips, eyes falling to your pretty hole.

he kissed your inner thighs, sloppily. he trailed his kisses right to your puffy clit, taking the bud into his mouth and sucking harshly. you let out a moan, hands going straight to his hair. he released from it, his breath hot against your hole. he licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit, going back down to put his tongue inside your previously empty hole.

he ate you out as if he had been waiting for this, and you knew you were gonna cum fast. he continued on with his movements, holding your legs open as he did so. your moans were filling the barn, letting out little whimpers in the act. he felt your hole clench around his tongue, and he could feel how close you were too.

he brought his mouth back up to attach to your clit, as he shoved two digits into you. he drew them in and out of you, curling them inside you as well. you let out a particularly loud moan, right on the edge. “fuck— rafe, please. gonna cum.” he didn’t give you a response, which you assumed meant that you could.

he curled his fingers again and hit a certain spot, taking you over the edge. you came around his fingers, clit going swollen in his mouth. he brought his head back up, your sin around his mouth. he withdrew his fingers from you, licking the cum off of them too.

your chest heaved, as he rubbed your ankle to calm you down. your breathing slowed, and he stood up. he brushed a loose strand hair from your eyes, before literally just walking off. as if he wasn’t just knuckle deep inside of you. as he walked off,

you didn’t miss the oddly familiar looking white cotton sticking out of his pocket.

[allisluv]

Hii I didn't see it in your guidelines but it might be triggering so I'm so sorry if I did can you Finnick taking care of reader after a suicide attempt?? I'm so so so sorry if I triggered you I really hope I didn't I'm so sorry again.

-🎸

better days are coming.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!victor!reader

summary: after a rough patch, you turn to the unthinkable, but your boyfriend is there to help you through it.

trigger warnings: depression, crying, feelings associated with a failed suicide attempt, mentions of a failed suicide attempt, pre-established relationship, mentions of the hunger games/death, ptsd, nightmares.

authors note: this fic deals with heavy topics and may be triggering to some people so please make sure you are in the right headspace to read this. my inbox is open if you are struggling. there are people that care about you.

word count: 802.

When Finnick asks why you did it, you don't really have an answer for him. Not a solid one, anyway. The truth is, you don't know why you did what you did. Sure, you'd been feeling down since winning The Hunger Games, but according to the other victors in your tiny village on the shore of District Four, it was normal to feel that way. In fact, it was expected.

Mags had once said to you that The Hunger Games changed everyone in some way or another. She had said that nobody came out unscathed. You couldn't have possibly understood what she meant; at the time, you were only fresh out of the arena and the prospect of what was to come was the last thing on your mind.

The first few weeks back home had been easy. You simply woke up, fell back into your usual routine with Finnick, and tried to go back to being normal, blissfully unaware that there would never be a day where you would feel anywhere close to normal again.

Your victory tour was when it began. You had been forced to face the families of the fallen tributes, some of whom had died at your hands. Then the nightmares started, and the insomnia, and the overwhelming fear that you would never feel better again. It started slowly. It crept up on you, like a shadow that grows as the sun comes out from behind the clouds.

So, when Finnick asks why you did it, it's a lie to say you don't know. It would be more fitting to say you just don't know where to start. It's hard to explain how you feel both everything and nothing all at once. It's something that you don't understand yourself, so how on earth is anyone else meant to know what you mean?

You didnt expect to wake up, so when your eyes flutter open and you see Finnick with his head in his hands by your beside, dread floods your veins. You know that Finnick has every right to be angry, but the mere thought makes you want to be sick.

Finnick's sea-green eyes snap up when you toss in the bed. His hand flies out to grip your own, his grasp firm and tight around your fingers, as if he's afraid that you'll slip away if he lets go. "Hi," he whispers, voice hoarse from not speaking for so long.

"Hi," you whisper, rolling onto your side to get a better look at him. There's dark circles under his puffy eyes and his pretty pink lips are tipped down in a frown. A lump starts to form in your throat and it borders on painful as you try to swallow it down. You shift uncomfortably.

Finnick's brows knit together. "Are you in pain? Should I call a doctor?" His voice is soft and gentle, more gentle than you deserve, and that's the final thing to push you over the edge. Tears spill out over your waterline. "Oh, honey," he whispers, climbing onto the double bed and nestling in beside you. He pulls you into his warm arms and you go willingly, melting into his touch.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, burying your face in his white shirt so you don't have to look at him.

Unfortunately for you, Finnick knows exactly what you're trying to do. He coaxes you to pull away slightly and when you do, he tips your chin up with his pointer finger and thumb, forcing you to look him in the eye. "You don't have to apologise, baby."

"You're not mad?"

Finnick sighs. "I'm not gonna sit here and say that I'm thrilled you tried to kill yourself. I'm mad at the situation but I'm not mad at you, baby. I just-" he blows air out through his lips. " Why didn't you talk to me?"

This time when you try shrink away from his gaze, he lets you. Your response comes muffled into the fabric of his t-shirt. "I don't know. I-- I wasn't thinking. I mean, I was, I knew what I was doing, but it was like I was moving on autopilot. It didn't really sink in until after I'd done it. I know I'm not making much sense. I just-- I wanted it to stop."

Finnick kisses the top of your head. "You wanted what to stop, honey?"

"I just wanted everything to stop. I felt so lonely and I..."

Finnick sucks in a breath and unsteadily blows it back out. "Okay." He kisses the top of your head once more and breathes in the smell of your vanilla shampoo. "Okay," he repeats, smoothing his fingers through your hair. "I just... I wish you'd told me, 'cause you're not alone. No matter how alone you feel, I promise you're not alone."

[ammifanart]

Just a note

Well I realise this is prolly just a problem for bigger blogs but I wanna put this out here now just for reference. Bots will do this anyway, but to other blogs who maybe run by humans. I can barely afford rent, I live month to month paying bills/food and pretty much nothing else. What I have saved is for my morgage. Please stop dming me, and inboxing me about donating to causes. (I'm pretty sure most of these are just bots but still) Idk if it's just me or if a lot of people get this problem, but if you flood my inbox or dms with plees to donate money I will be blocking you instantly. I don't enjoy doing this to people who ask for help, but I simply don't donate to charity because atm I have no spare income to do so.

Thats all I'll really say on it all. Plz stop.

(Will prolly delete later, this is just a message to those ppl, Cookie run content still coming soon)

[nctstar]

idk if u write for tbz but if u do can i request haechan and sunwoo smut pls! if not gamer! hyuck and renjun would b great ILYYY

hi! this is so late I'm sorry :( I don't write for tbz! but definitely for nct. I tried my best with the gamer aspects but I am not a gamer so...ANYWAY I tried my best, what can I sayyy :D hope you like ily too <3

do i seem familiar?

The softness of his lips erupted on your mouth, shutting your eyes, letting him taste you. He slipped his tongue inside, and you gasped. Pulling away, you wanted to whine, beg, anything to taste him again. He brought one hand to your face, stroking the side of your jaw. “What’s your name?”

“_.” Your brain was yelling at you to stop, but you couldn’t help yourself. You leant it, letting your lips passively feel his. “It’s _.”

“Good girl.” That alone would have made your knees fall apart, but you stiffened, sighing gently. “I want to know what name I need to be moaning tonight.”

pairing: hyuckren x fem!reader (no hyuckren ship)

other members: none

word count: 5k

genre: SMUT bro what can i say

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! reader is a streamer/cam girl, reader and hyuckren speak in korean and english throughout and sometimes don't understand each other but everything is consensual! mention of breasts multiple times, threesome, breastplay, use of whore and slut, profanity, degradation (not too crazy), dom!hyuckren, bit of thigh slapping, fingering, squirting, being held down + manhandled, begging. oral (male receiving), praise kink, intense orgasms, double penetration, rough sex, crying during and after sex, tiny bit of overstimulation (not really), finishing inside, kissing, alluding to aftercare at the end (very important!)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: lowkey i think all my smuts are a little bit similar to each other haha. ALSOO the italics in quotations are things said in korean, and non-italics is english, hope that's not confusing.

y_3to3: you look so pretty today baby <3

A flood of messages inundated your screen, aggressively drowning out the simplicity of the one that had caught your eye. Much like a passing quiet comment as you walked down the street, or even less – a whisper of a thought, someone who knew too much, or not at all, the thought begging to be heard.

Your face felt hot under the mask, your eyes threatening to water at the light radiating off your many monitors. The red dot blinked, one, two, matching your heartbeat. Camera on.

“Thank you!” You responded as you fixed your top, a skimpy strappy corset top, your chest bursting at the seams as the old push-up bra did its work. You were suddenly nervous, as if he could really see you. Past all the screens, the messages flooding into your inbox, the red, blinking light.

You wondered what the other men would think knowing you and y_3to3 had met. Would they cry? Wail? Beg on their hands and knees in front of you – in front of him? Would they get aggressive? You hadn’t really thought of that. His handsome demeanour, your soft skin, the way your body just melted under the heat of his body…it was not something you could resist by thinking logically.

“No game today, guys. It’s Halloween! I thought we could just chat for a while!” You fought the urge to itch the strap underneath your right armpit, becoming more and more aware of how uncomfortable the bra was. Smiling through it all, you continued. “Uh, can anyone guess who I am?”

The messages didn’t stop coming, but nobody was answering.

You coughed awkwardly, readjusting yourself in your chair, sneaking glances in the mirror behind your camera to check what you were showing off. Damn, you thought, seeing your boobs pushed together, the pouty pink lips and the doe eyes staring back at you, I look like a whore.

New member. The notification caught your eye. No one had really added themselves mid-stream in a while now, not anybody new, at least.

“Hey, welcome!” Your voice came out hesitant, the same paranoia that always overtook you filling your senses. What if it was your mom, or your boss?

You gulped, but there was a message waiting for you within seconds.

해찬: 마스크걸?

Shit. You didn’t know how to read Korean, only learning how to speak bits and pieces here and there.

“Uh…” You were nervous, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but also having this sudden urge to accommodate the stranger that had dominated all of a sudden. “My Korean is not great. And I can’t read. But, thank you.” You cringed at the sound of your own voice, and almost wanted to end the stream right then and there. But then, they replied.

해찬: you speak very good.

A weird warmth spread your stomach, and you couldn’t help yourself. “Thank you, uh, I’m not sure…oh gosh, I guess I have to Google Translate your username! That’s embarrassing.”

해찬: my name is hae-chan.

“Oh, n-nice, nice to meet you.” His forwardness took you off guard, mainly being used to men who had never spoken to a woman in real life joining your chat, timidly hiding in the shadows until they got a glimpse of cleavage and couldn’t hold it in anymore. You gave a small smile, one that would please everyone, but also hide something extra for the people you liked and wanted.

y_3to3: he said you’re mask girl. it’s pretty obvious.

y_3to3: you don’t need google translate. i can do it for you. and more. if you want.

Your heart pounded, suddenly quietened by this virtual conversation. Your eyes read the letters over and over again, until the texts rose on the screen.

해찬: yeah, so can i. i just thought she could read korean. my bad.

Your head swam, not knowing how to process all this. One had itched to turn your camera off, suddenly feeling really vulnerable and exposed. That blinking red light kept relenting in the background.

You clapped your hands together. “Guys, it’s kinda getting late! You guys need your sleep, and so does your Mask Girl!” You ignored the men who moaned and groaned at it being only 11pm, and how you didn’t even dance for them tonight, or spill water down your shirt. “Until next time, okay? Stay safe, everyone!” Your voice felt too perky, like it was out of a Black Mirror episode, unsettling and uncanny.

The red, blinking light went off, and you sighed. A million thoughts entered your brain, but they were all immersed in the fog of tiredness that took over your body. Legs moving at their own accord, you stumbled over to your bed, ripping the mask off in the process. As your stomach pushed up on the already too-tight top, you felt breathless as you lay at the foot off your bed, but you closed your eyes, listening to your muscles screaming for rest. “Renjun, his name was Renjun, I think…” You whispered, feeling a little crazy, a little like a witch or a little girl trying to manifest the attention of their crush they looked at for 2 seconds. He hadn’t taken his mask off, but you had felt him anyways. Inches sheathed inside you, thrusting in time with your moans. “Fuck.” How could you want someone that bad? Is this what those lonely men in your dms felt like?

Nevertheless, the memory of the smell of expensive cologne, hands roaming limitlessly on your uncovered body, dragon-like eyes watching you as you fell apart – all of it let you dream restlessly, your body twisted uncomfortably on your bed, your computer droning in the background and the makeup remaining untouched on your face, skincare be damned.

∞

You hadn’t seen his face before today, and you kind of hated yourself for agreeing to meet him again. He was mask-less, and you quickly realised he had a face sculpted by divine forces themselves, sharp, meticulous, perfect. Enough to ruin your life in a heartbeat.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Renjun? I-I’m sorry if I’m not pronouncing that right.”

He nodded silently, and you fought the urge to hold your breath, his skin shone even under the crappy lighting of the PC bang. An awkward silence ensued as your brain scrambled for the right words, not only to say but the ones that would be grammatically correct in Korean. “Thanks for inviting me here. Should we find a place now?”

“Are you hungry?” His eyes searched yours, and you felt the pull you had that night at that hotel room, last night as you read the message, he had boldly hit send on for the world to see.

“No.” You shook your head, trying not to smile in an off-putting way. You prayed he hadn’t noticed the pimple on your face, and your anxiety made sure you were thinking about the fact that you had done your makeup differently every second since you had left the house. It looks good. On camera. Not in person. You kinda look like a slut. But in a good way? Too much blush. Should have worn lashes. Should have worn makeup like the day he felt compelled to take you to a hotel and f-

“I brought my friend. Do you mind?” He looked nervous now, or maybe he was nervous the whole time? You weren’t sure. As you thought of other things, you didn’t process the fact that he had asked you a question.

“Is this her?” You could have sworn you had heard a voice, but Renjun didn’t react to it, and you wondered if it was another voice in your head. “That’s okay, right? Or if you don’t want him here-“

“Him?” Another person was definitely a little unexpected. But you swallowed the little shock you had and tried to reply normally. It’s not that bad. It won’t be awkward. At least he didn’t say she – HAH!

“No, I mean, that’s okay!” Your voice was started to travel upwards to an obnoxiously high pitch, and you willed it down again. “Is he here?”

“Renjun-ah, I already found a place for the two of us. You didn’t tell me she was-oh.” The unidentified voice stopped as soon as the man stood in your line of sight. The first thing you did was use all of your willpower to prevent your jaw muscles slackening and letting your mouth drop wide open.

Holy fuck. He is so hot.

“Donghyuck.” He nodded so slightly it could have easily been missed. Your brain on overdrive at the sight of two of the hottest men you had ever encountered in front of you made you momentarily mute, and it was like Donghyuck picked up on that. Smirking, he looked down, muttering cute.

Oh my god, what is happening right now…

“This is my friend…maybe we better sit down somewhere else?” You nodded, forcing yourself to hum in response so it didn’t seem like you had gone brainless suddenly. You tried to contribute to the visual search, looking around, but your ears heated up at the realisation that Donghyuck was staring you up and down. His black rimmed eyes, whether from makeup or lack of sleep, danced across your body before resting on your facial features, making your stomach start doing backflips. You pointed at an empty row, desperate now to sit down. “There. That works, right?”

“Sure.” The English rolled off Donghyuck’s tongue in a way that indicated it wasn’t his first language, but he was oozing with confidence regardless. You finally met his gaze, fire erupting in your throat as he smirked directly at you.

Minutes later, for some reason, you were seated in the middle of them – Renjun on your right, Donghyuck on your left. The nerves were being pushed aside with a sort of familiar comfort as the game, one you had played multiple times on stream, one you were famously good at, started up. Colours flickered across your shiny eyes as you stared, unblinking.

When you started playing, you might as well have forgotten about the last twenty minutes of your life. Your fingers sprung across the keys, words erupting out of your mouth without permission. At one point, Donghyuck’s character and yours fought for an entire five minutes, both of you getting so close to finishing before swapping over, going at it repeatedly (that’s what she said). At the last minute, you prevailed. You heard him curse loudly as the character fell to the ground, red blinking letters taunting him, filling his screen. “Oh, she’s good.”

“Mmm, she is.” The emotions that had raced through your body moments ago was fighting this newfound adrenaline in your system, and you wondered what to say next. What to do next. Your hands were getting clammy, cold. Your right leg bounced on the seat.

“Again?” You turned to Donghyuck, unaware of the confidence that was taking over. He glanced at you before returning to his screen, rebooting the game. You were getting ready to turn back around, face your screen, when he said,

“Were you mask girl on camera last night?”

It’s like you could feel Renjun’s eyes widen. You were shocked, hairs rising on end. The anonymity that came with your job shattered with dangerous intent, and you tried to shake your head, to deny it. You were never a great liar.

“We hooked up once, Donghyuck. It’s not what you think.” The words pierced you, and you were frozen in place, like someone just superglued you to your seat.

“That’s not what I was saying- Look. Renjun told me what you do. And, you kinda remind me of the girl I saw last night.”

So any girl with tits is a cam girl to you? You wanted to say, but the language barrier and the decency that comes with being in a public place stopped you. And what if I am? Why are you asking me this?

“Why are you saying stuff like this?”

“No, I-“

“Donghyuck.” Renjun’s voice came as a warning, but that was when you noticed Donghyuck’s name on the screen, unapologetically butting into the conversation.

해찬

“Oh my god.” Both men appeared concerned, stopping their bickering. You felt one hand rest on your thigh gently, tentatively. “Sorry, are you-“

“You’re Haechan?” You turned to Donghyuck, and he nodded carefully, dark eyes locked into yours, blank, unassuming. Your stomach swirled with the remnants of the thin instant coffee you had swallowed minutes ago, Renjun’s hand on your thigh stilling your bouncing leg. “I just, well, I didn’t expect-“

“It was, um, accident. I’m not like other men.” You fought the urge to snicker at his endearing broken English, sounding completely like an incel but not intending too. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was just curious. And Renjun told me he had met a cam girl, and, well, it kind of just made sense in the moment.”

You nodded, not sure how to react. You watched as Donghyuck’s hands flew as he spoke, his lips curled in, almost pouting, his features turning almost cartoonishly apologetic. It was so adorable, a stark contrast to the intensity of his eyes, the sharp edges of the hair that grazed his eyebrows.

Renjun sighed loudly, and you felt the warmth leave the middle of your thigh as he removed his hand from your body. He cursed silently, rubbing at his temples. “Sorry if this made you uncomfortable.”

“N-no, no,” You tried to be reassuring, but your voice shook, not for the reasons they had thought originally though. Here you were, your secrets out, quite literally in the middle of two men you had met in person that you weren’t sure if they were thinking the same thing as you – you needed them so bad – the hypersexual nature of your side hustle now glaringly obvious, threatening to break the taboos of a normal interaction. You shuffled in your seat, right leg itching to rest over your left. “It’s okay, um. You guys seem nice enough. Shall we get something to eat after this?”

One thing had led to another. One instance of Donghyuck swiping his card before you could even flick yours out. Let me. Renjun picking up a dessert you had said you liked in your streams maybe once. Them gesturing at your nose, realising the whipped cream had rubbed off. You licking your fingers with satisfaction underneath the white flickering lights of the convenience store. Tastes so good, wow. Donghyuck’s fingers grazing your hips as he pushed past you to open the door for you and Renjun. You pretending not to notice that Renjun was staring at your top, hoodie off to expose the crop you usually only wear at home, feeling embarrassed that there was a stain on the right arm. Wondering if he thought you were unkempt, unorganised. Wondering if that was a turn off…

“Wow, nice building.” Donghyuck’s hair shone as you looked back at him, your Hello Kitty bag slung over one of his forearms. You pressed your lips together, feeling a little vulnerable, maybe even a little scared. “Yeah, I get good money from, well. Maybe I should just quit my job!” Renjun laughed, but Donghyuck was silent, perhaps from not understanding, perhaps thinking about something else. You weren’t sure.

“Um, I don’t really have a dining room,” Your voice trailed off as you looked at the mess in your little kitchenette, the lack of a sofa or coffee table imminent in the blankness of the room. “Been kind of busy, didn’t really have time to…” You were more or less lying, more or less talking to yourself, forgetting that English was probably not the best language to explain things in right now. You nodded at no one in particular, before pointing at your bedroom door. “Should we…?”

Renjun had laughed audibly when stepping into your room, Donghyuck muttering cute once again but just a bit louder this time. You chuckled weakly, but your face started to burn, embarrassment leaking into your veins like a potent poison. The plushies and Sanrio merch made you feel more exposed than ever, and your eyes widened when you noticed your favourite orange dildo resting on the bed, as shameless as a naked lover waiting for you after a long day at work. “Uh, okay, um,” You began to babble, trying to quickly shove away the apparatus and praying it would grow legs and run away while they weren’t looking. “You can sit here.”

You bounced on the bed as the two men perched themselves next to you, you in the middle again. The plastic bags filled with random knick-knacks Donghyuck had swore you wanted crinkled as he bent over, tying a knot at the top. “You alright? You seem…nervous.” His nonchalant concern made you want to melt, want to lean over and start making out with him. What did you want, really? Why did you invite them here?

“Are you waiting for something?” Renjun’s breath tickled your ear, surprising you. You turned to face him. His scent the same as that night. Leaning over, his eyes darted back and forth from your lips to your eyes.

The softness of his lips erupted on your mouth, shutting your eyes, letting him taste you. He slipped his tongue inside, and you gasped. Pulling away, you wanted to whine, beg, anything to taste him again. He brought one hand to your face, stroking the side of your jaw. “What’s your name?”

“_.” Your brain was yelling at you to stop, but you couldn’t help yourself. You leant it, letting your lips passively feel his. “It’s _.”

“Good girl.” That alone would have made your knees fall apart, but you stiffened, sighing gently. “I want to know what name I need to be moaning tonight.”

As if on cue, you felt one arm wrap around your middle, knee nudging your legs apart. You tried to whip your head around, but Renjun stopped you, pressing down on your forehead so your head rested on the back on Donghyuck’s upper shoulders. You whimpered. “Donghyuck…”

“Shh, it’s okay. I got you.” You both adjusted so you were perched on his lap now, staring at Renjun, eyes wide in anticipation. You felt Donghyuck’s hard-on press into the ridge of your lower back. Stifling a moan, you tried to slip up and down his lap, but felt a hard slap on your thigh when you did, your actions failing to go unnoticed.

“Whore.” You whimpered, feeling Donghyuck nibble on your ear, relentlessly but also with a slight care, as if tending to an animal at flight risk. “Take your top off, if you want this.”

If you want this. His words swam in your ears, and both men paused, waiting for you to act. The tension in the air was thick, but also, you realised, fragile, like a bubble of lust that would pop with the right words, if you didn’t consent. They would definitely leave. They would never mention it again.

But you shrugged off Donghyuck’s arms around you, almost drooling at the veins, the muscles that bulged even as he let go. You pulled your top off, one hand behind your back to unclip your bra. You could feel the surprise, the shock, before Renjun latched onto one of your nipples, your back arching and Donghyuck pulling you flush against him again. “O-oh…”

“You think you can cum just like this? Filthy girl.” You weren’t really sure what exactly he was talking about, but you understood cum and whore, and you shook your head. “Want more, pl-, ah, Renjun-ah!” He started leaving love bites down the middle of your chest, another hand flicking your other nipple. You squirmed. “Please, please…”

“Showing off her rack to any man who wants it, Donghyuck-ah, did you know?” You did understand that, and your eyes watered at the humiliation, simultaneously feeling yourself get wetter as you did. “Fuck, I bet she gets off on it.”

You shook your head, but you were moaning too, which didn’t really help your case. “Please, wanna cum, please, no more-“ You tried pushing Renjun’s head off you, to which he obliged, silencing you with a kiss instead. “Tell us what you want. Come on. Otherwise I’ll leave. We’ll leave.” Donghyuck wiped your tears with his free hand, making you suddenly melt deeper into his body, into his strong arms. You breathed in deeply, your bare chest rising and falling. “Mmm, I want, um, I want your fingers, please.”

“Like this?” Renjun buried one hand inside your pants, and you took it as a sign to lose them, the both of you awkwardly shaking them off. He pulled your panties down just enough before pressing his index finger onto your clit, swirling around, making your thighs tremble. “More, please, i-inside!” Your voice rose as he inserted one inside you without warning, your fluids now gushing out, exposing you. You felt Donghyuck move his head over your shoulder, to watch you, you thought. The thought was enough to feed the humiliation even more, not even registering Donghyuck slapping at your thigh repeatedly as you watched your hole constrict around Renjun’s fingers. Moaning, you tried to move your leg away, panties now sliding off your calves and onto the floor. Donghyuck tutted, wrapping his arm underneath your thigh to push it closer to your chest. “Rest your leg on his shoulder for me. Quickly.” You complied, submission clouding your senses. The new angle allowed Renjun fingers to travel deeper, curling near that spongy part that always made you reach your climax when you pressed your dildo against it. The warmth and spontaneity of real fingers was making you shake uncontrollably, tears springing to your eyes. “Oh, haah, fuck! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” You sobbed, whining and trying to scramble away as Donghyuck pressed your thigh to your chest tighter, groaning in your ear as he watched you squirt all over Renjun’s fingers, damp spots sprouting on his pants as you did.

Your eyes were ringing, spots clouding your vision. You babbled incoherently, trying to catch your breath. Renjun pressed a kiss to your forehead, then to your nose. “You okay?”

“Mmm.” you managed to make out, wiping your tears. “Wow, that was…really good.”

“Open.” Renjun pressed his fingers to your lips, allowing you to suck the ends, tasting yourself. Donghyuck’s chest vibrated as he hummed in satisfaction. “Fuck, you think you can suck me like that, baby?”

You nodded, pathetically, like a bimbo, holding your boobs as you scrambled towards the floor. You heard Renjun groan and unzip his pants as your knees scraped the carpet, and you flipped your hair over one shoulder, hands pulling at the waistband of Donghyuck’s pants. He leant back, spreading his knees further apart so you could inch closer to him, one hand sneaking up and feeling the ridges on his stomach. “Eager slut.”

The bulb sprung out, meeting your lips, and you teased his slit carefully, batting your eyes up at him in a way you thought he would like. He raised one eyebrow, but you could tell he was flustered from the way his ears burned red. “You can tease me, but don’t cry later when I do the same to you.” You giggled, wrapping both hands around his thick length. Wondering how it would feel nestled all the way inside you, whether you would be able to feel it in your stomach.

As soon as you opened your mouth, planning to suck the tip first, salty precum already pre-erupting in your mouth, you felt something hard press against your now exposed, soaking core. On instinct, you tried to straighten up through your back, but Donghyuck gripped the back of your head instantly, keeping your face close to his leaking cock. “No. You stay here.”

“Renjun-ah…” A sharp inhale as you felt him push inside, warm and so tight, the inside of your thighs now completely wet. You began to moan, mouth open, letting Donghyuck push you on his cock, shutting you up immediately.

Renjun groaned, throat constricting with every word he spoke. “Take me so well every time. Fuck. So good.” Your moans disappearing, morphing into lewd choking noises as Donghyuck held you in place. Your eyes pleaded with him, and he released you, sending you flying backwards, coughing up a mix of saliva and his precum. He gripped your chin, watching your glossy eyes stare back at him. “Don’t do anything. Don’t even think, baby. This is what you need.” You could only moan in response as Renjun gripped your hips, body flopping down as he began to thrust into you faster and faster. The way your walls constricted around him was orgasmic, nails scratching at the carpet as if it would help you anchor your body. “Fuck, yes, oh my god…” Your moans turned into cries, and you felt your impending climax overpower your body. “Please, nggh, so much…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling yourself lose control over your body.

Renjun pulled your hair so you were forced to look up. You squealed, chanting his name like a mantra. “Should I fill you up, baby?” You could only cry in response, core twitching without permission. Donghyuck brought his cock to your mouth again, cock prying your mouth open as you let your jaw slacken. Fully hard now, you gagged noisily. Renjun whispered praises in your ear as Donghyuck thrusted into your mouth, tears streaming down your face at the impact. “Good girl. Go ahead, cum for me. Cum for us.” You felt yourself fall apart, muscles paralysing as you came. Not long after, Donghyuck shot ropes of cum down your throat, swearing as he did. “You gonna swallow, baby?” No energy to nod, you brought one hand to stroke the back of his thigh, knees now sore against the rough carpet. As Renjun pulled out, you squeezed your thighs together, not letting anything leak onto the carpet. Donghyuck helped you up once you released him, carrying you bridal style to the bed, lips meeting yours once your back hit the mattress. “H-Hyuckie…”

“Oh fuck, baby. That’s such a pretty nickname. You wanna keep calling me that?” His eyes were roaming down your now naked body, your lower stomach glistening with fluids. He separated your folds with his fingers as you snapped your legs against his hand. He laughed as you shook your head desperately. “Fuck, wait, I’m sensitive! Wait a second…” Chest heaving, you watched as Renjun walked over to the bed, the outlines of his body now blurry from the tears and post-orgasmic bliss. “How are you guys hard again?”

Donghyuck responded by noisily kissing down your body. Unlike Renjun, he was sloppier, softer, more desperate. You craned your neck to watch him, feeling like you were having an out of body experience. Post two intense orgasms, every nerve in your body felt like it was singed at the ends. Yet, you wanted more. Your hips bucked up involuntarily, making you blush. Renjun pressed his thumb on your bottom lip, signalling for you to open your mouth. “You wanna taste my cock too?”

“Yeah…yes, please, I think…” Renjun laughed this time, stroking his length to its full hardness before pressing the head against your lips. At the same time, Donghyuck tapped your inner thighs, and, like a secret reflex, you let your knees relax apart, hips opening. You felt something unmistakably heavy rest on your exposed pussy, and you looked down to see Donghyuck’s rubbing himself up and down your folds. “Hnghh, Hyuck, oh, will it f-fit?” He looked at you with confusion, suddenly realising you had changed languages. Before you could answer, Renjun grabbed your chin and pushed his hips, letting his cock slip past your lips and fill your mouth. “Shhh. It’ll fit. Don’t you worry.”

“Fuck, noisy girl.” Your moans were vibrating around Renjun’s cock, making him thrust sloppily and deeply, one hand holding your head in place. You closed your eyes, feeling yourself getting filled to the brim, a feeling your tiny dildo could never come close to giving you. “Renjun-ah, she’s gripping me so tight. Fuck. We found ourselves a perfect little whore.” Talking about you as if you weren’t even there, mouth occupied, unable to speak, added to the humiliation tenfold and embarrassingly made you hornier than ever. As Donghyuck sped up his thrusts, the sounds of messy sex filled the room, riling up Renjun even more. Drool ran as far down to your breasts as he thrusted, one of your hands now gripping your boob for support. “You want me to cum all over those pretty tits? Hmm?” You nodded as much as you could with the little space you had, the visual of that almost sending you over the edge.

Donghyuck pressed one finger to your clit, making you slap Renjun’s knee so hard he pulled off with a surprised groan. “Fuck! Oh fuck, please, please…” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Donghyuck pulled out, manhandling you as he pleased. Bending your hips, he pressed your thighs to your chest, pushing his entire length in as both your legs resting over one of his shoulders. This new position took your breath away, your mouth falling apart into a pornographic ‘O’ shape. Donghyuck’s eyebrows furrowed, and you felt him release inside you. Thumbing your clit, your hips jerked off the bed and you cried. “Oh my god! P-please, ah, I’m gonna, oh fuck!”

“That’s it, my baby. Soak the sheets for me.” With one final cry, you squirted the hardest you had ever done before, clit throbbing as you came down from your high. You felt Renjun gently move one arm away from your chest before cumming himself all over your breasts as promised, pleasured moans and stutters of your real name escaping him as he did.

My baby. You pulled Donghyuck near you, crying in his shoulder as he rubbed your back gently, bare skin against skin. “Shhh, you’re okay. It’s okay.” You felt Renjun pull your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your hand gently as you breathed deeply. “Good girl. You did so well. So perfect for us.”

[anathemaspeaks]

anna's prompt list

navi. -> anna's prompt list

welcome to my blog! request the prompt number and category you'd like, and i'll write a scenario for it! you can pick multiple prompts from multiple categories, too.

go ahead and flood my inbox 💋

fluff:

"can i borrow your sweater?"

"falling in love with you wasn't a part of my life plan, but i don't regret that i did."

"it's okay, i couldn't sleep anyway."

"you're blushing." "am not!"

"i wish you were here with me."

"dance with me!"

"is that my shirt?"

"i didn't know you're ticklish."

"your lips are really warm."

"why are you looking at me like that?"

"can i count your freckles?"

"you're home."

"delete that! i look disgusting."

"your flirting is so bad it's adorable."

"would you just shut up and kiss me already?"

"no, i’m not letting you go. it’s too early to get out of bed."

"i really wanna kiss you right now."

"you look so cute when you laugh."

"can i at least shut the door before you decide to pounce on me the moment i come home."

"i'll keep you warm. hold me closer."

“when do you think help will come?” “not for a while. i guess we’re stranded here alone for the time being.”

"apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together."

"quit looking at me, you’re making me nervous."

"do you know how to knock?"

"if we get caught, its your fault!”

"do you know you snore?"

"stop threatening me with a good time!”

"because i'm in love with you, dumbass!"

or send me your own!

angst:

"were you ever going to tell me?"

"i'm done trying to help you."

"sorry doesn't fix everything."

"you didn't call. you didn't text. nothing."

"i can't do this anymore."

"you said you'd always be there for me..."

"did it ever occur to you that you're hurting me, too?"

"i guess we just weren't meant to be."

"i never stopped loving you."

"it's me - please don't hang up!"

"please don't leave me, not again."

"do you even still love me?"

"don't worry, because i'm not coming back!"

"you can go to hell."

"i know you still love me."

"hey, look at me."

"don't do this here."

"can you kiss me? one last time?"

"am i too late?"

"i wish i never met you."

or send me your own!

cliches:

"do you trust me?"

high school sweethearts who broke up but then he shows up in town again.

you need a hot date for this wedding.

hiding during a mission and he pulls you so close you're almost kissing.

you call at 3 am because you need him.

"i've been in love with you for years."

you're stubborn and won't take your jacket, so he gives you his.

you choose to wear your heels but they're uncomfortable and you refuse to admit it.

he catches you stalking his mom's facebook.

having a pillow fight and it ends in a makeout.

he steals your panties and you catch him.

or send me your own!

smut:

"i'm not wearing any panties."

"not here. do you wanna get caught?"

"add another finger."

"you're so cold. lemme warm you up."

"aw, don't worry baby. i'll make it fit."

"you're so pretty like this."

"what are you gonna do about it?"

"sorry! i didn't know you were changing."

"i can't tell whether i want to make you bleed or moan."

"i hate that you're mad at me, but you look so hot right now."

"i don't bite... unless you're into that."

"spank me. please."

"say my name. louder."

"you have to be quiet if you want to cum tonight."

"just shut up and fuck me."

or send me your own!

[mephinomaly]

[TL] The Occasional Family TLC

Summary: Ritsu wants some attention, and Kaoru suggests he pays his brother a visit. Reluctantly, he does under the guise of passing along a message from Kaoru.

Character(s): Ritsu, Kaoru, Rei

Season: Winter

Location: Café Cinnamon

Ritsu: Yaawnnn, hng… so tired.

(The only time all of Knights were available was early in the morning so I had to get up early…)

(Everyone but me had somewhere to be afterwards, leaving me on my own. They’re all heartless.)

(I have plans in the afternoon so if I go back to sleep, I probably won’t wake back up again…)

But I’m soooo tired. Haa~...Maa-kun, help mee~

-that's what I texted him but he didn’t reply…? Oh yeah, didn’t he say he was busy with a photoshoot all day?

Even though I need to be cared for right now? Maa-kun’s a cheater~

…Maybe I’ll give up and go back to sleep.

Kaoru: I was wondering who was grumbling. What are you doing here, Ritsu-kun?

Ritsu: Ah, Kaoru-san. Finally, someone’s come to look after me~♪

Kaoru: Come to look after you…? Sorry but I’m not your guy.

I have somewhere to be after this so once I’ve finished my coffee, I need to head off.

Ritsu: Ehh~, don’t say things like that and just pay more attention to meee Kaoru-san~

Spoil me more. Spoil me like you’ve never spoiled someone before~...

Kaoru: You’re more needy than usual and you’re really begging, huh. What’s up?

Ritsu: I actually got up early yet no one congratulated me for it?

Now I’m struggling not to fall back asleep. I’ve been betrayed. I’m still waiting for my praise.

Kaoru: What an adorable reason~.

Then I’ll give you what you need. Good boy, well done on waking up early~♪

Ritsu: Nn~, that’s the stuff ♪ That’s the sort of praise I want. It would be so good if Kaoru-san was my brother…

Kaoru: I’m pretty sure Rei-kun would praise you too for working so hard.

Ritsu: Um, who is “Rei”? I’ve never heard of that person before. My onii-chan’s name is Kaoru.

Kaoru: Don’t joke around like that, okay? If Rei-kun heard, he'd burst into tears.

Ritsu: Yeah I know. But If I texted anija about it, it would create an even bigger problem.

He’d flood my inbox like he’s commenting on a video.

Kaoru: Probably. But considering it’s Rei-kun, he’d probably call you.

Ritsu: Yeah and I’d block him if he did. He’s not my brother but I’m still scared.

Kaoru: Haha…Well, Rei-kun’s used to being ignored. But I thought your relationship was on the mend after what happened during Operetta.

Ritsu: It’ll be embarrassing if I let him get too comfortable.

Anyway, Kaoru-san’s used to me acting like this anyway…

Kaoru: Yeah I guess but you should show Rei-kun some affection every once in a while.

He’s trying his best, so wouldn’t it be good to reward him for that?

Ritsu: ...

Kaoru: I’ve got it. Do you think you could pass on a message for me?

Ritsu: Ehh~. Isn’t that what HoldHands is for?

Kaoru: That doesn’t matter. And I think Rei-kun would much rather hear it from his cute younger brother ♪

Ritsu: I’m not a bootlicker. How troublesome~...

Kaoru: Please. If you have enough time to take a nap here, you can surely deliver a message for me?

Ritsu: ...Sigh, fine. I’ll sleep wherever I am, just so you know…

Kaoru: Thank you Ritsu-kun ♪

Well, I’ve got to go in a few moments.

I didn’t see Rei-kun when I went to the office earlier, so he’s probably sleeping at the dorms. It’s still early after all.

Ritsu: Okay. What am I telling him?

Location: Rei, Eichi, and Aira's dorm room

Rei: Well I never. To think the first thing I’d see when I awake would be sweet Ritsu ♪ If the day ended right now, I’d be happy.

Come hither, my lovely cute angel~! Come rest upon my lap~♪

Ritsu: No, I'm okay. More importantly, are your roommates not in?

Rei: Mhm. Tenshouin-kun and Shiratori-kun both did not return to the dorms last night. Now you can spoil me to your heart’s content~.

Ritsu: Ah, lucky me.

Rei: Say something more! If you act so uninterested you’ll hurt my feelings~

Ritsu: You’re annoying as usual. Just so you know, I’m not planning on staying long.

I’m just here to deliver a message from Kaoru-san.

Rei: Kaoru-kun? Has there been a change of plan?

Ritsu: You have a meeting about some program you’ll be in tonight, right? The meeting place has changed. Kaoru-san will tell you where later.

Rei: Ah, I see. Thank you for telling me. Then Ritsu, come here.

I must praise you for being a good, good boy for me ♪

Ritsu: How many times do I have to tell you to stop with the “good boy”? Are you so old your ears have started to rot?

Jesus, I didn’t even do much. Besides, Kaoru-san’s already given me all the TLC I need.

Rei: Fumu. I’m a little confused as to why Kaoru-kun sent you to tell me.

Surely there’s something more to it? It’s unlike you to come all this way just for that.

Ritsu: ...

Rei: You’re always welcome to come talk to me, cute Ritsu. Never hesitate to come and find your oniichan ♪

Ritsu: …Uhuh. You’re reading too much into things. I just came to deliver a message for him.

Rei: Well that doesn’t seem to be true. To go out of your way for one singular message is not very Ritsu of you.

Ritsu: You’re beyond saving, you senile old man. Can’t you just accept that that’s all there is to it?

Rei: Umu. If you insist, I suppose I’m misunderstanding.

Ritsu: …Well, even if there was another reason… which there isn’t, by the way.

That reason would be that it’s early in the morning and I was sent to deliver a message that totally could have been sent via Holdhands.

Rei: Huh…? Sorry…? W-what do you mean?

Ritsu: My loser brother’s complimentary service has run out~.

Yaawn, mm… this sucks. I can’t stop yawning so I’m going back to my room for a nap. Bye~.

Rei: ...Service?

So… could it be true that…Ritsu came to see me for the sake of…seeing me…!?

W-wait, my sweet Ritsu. If you want to take a nap you can here! We can share a bed!

I’m begging you! Let me love you with all my body, Ritsuu!

[vypridae]

more winter siglai because they are running full speed around my brain!!!

they are the epitome of the cold hands x warm hands trope let me tell you that for one

ESPECIALLY WINTERTIMES

sigma is just shivering despite being dressed the heaviest and nikolai is warm as all fuck. they hold hands and sigma is warm again but in the thermodynamic equilibrium way [does that make sense]

the minute i think of these i’m flooding your inbox xan i hope you enjoy them

WINTER SIGLAI WINTER SIGLAI

YESESEHSJKSHJKSHFJKG ADHKJASHDFJKA I LOVE THE COLD HANDS WARM HANDS TROPE i almost typed worm hands. I LOVE THEM SOM UHC. sigma starts relying on nikolai to help him warm up during winter uauauaghfuahdfgj

i. i imagine. the first time they held hands during winter when sigma was cold. he forgot gloves and didnt realize itd be so cold outside, so hes constantly rubbing his hands together and blowing on them and tucking them into his coat only to pull them out and repeat the process. and nikolai notices this and hes all giggle and playfully flirting he goes "your hands look pretty cold, do i need to warm them for you?" and sigma, in a completely serious tone, goes "yes please, they're freezing" AND NIKOLAI GETS A BIT FLUSTERED CUZ ACTUALLY? HE ACTUALLY WANTS HIM TO HOLD HIS HANDS??

anyway they hold hands every time they go out during wintertime with sigma making the excuse that "my hands are cold" even if hes wearing gloves. i love them so much please flood my inbox i LOVE getting stuff like this

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Heya, house anon here again! I haven’t been around too much so I just seen your replies. I completely missed/ overlooked the request, I didn’t expect it to be done so quickly!! Personally, I didn’t go to collage, so this’ll be my first time moving. Anyway, I just read it, and I wanted to say IT’S PERFECT!! I love how you did his personality, truly everything I’ve ever hoped for in a fic. I was smiling the whole time, honestly kinda felt like a school girl giggling over her first crush lmao! It filled my sinking heart full of joy, and honestly makes me a bit more excited for this whole house experience. I don’t think it could’ve been done any better, truly, I sing you my praises!

Once all this mess is over, I’d love to save up some to commission you. I wouldn’t mind some more Dark content, especially smut someday.

Honestly, I think if this whole house thing wasn’t so un-planned then I wouldn’t AS stressed. It would still be stressful, with all the paperwork and everything involved, but since I just got my first full time job a month ago, I didn’t really have much saved up.

I had been looking around for a while and everything was either too expensive or needed a lot of work. When I seen this place, I knew I wouldn’t find anything else like it. It has a beautiful tavern-style living area that the previous owners made, which I haven’t decided if I want it Lord of the Rings themed or not. Plus, is has room for chickens :) - so I spontaneously went for it. I’m fortunate to have some help so I’m able to afford it, but I’ll definitely be doing some budgeting for the next few months until I’m in a comfortable place. I know it’s a place I can afford, but I just didn’t expect so much additional costs besides the down payment - closing, inspection, taxes, etc. So, that makes it all pretty tight for now, and I won’t have much furniture yet, but that doesn’t bother me, my couch and bed are all I need for now!

And thank you so so so much for your kind words! I love my cat so much, but she’s currently gonna be 11 this year, plus she’s a skittish little thing, so she wouldn’t do well in another place. It’ll just be hard not having her to sleep with and pet everyday. I’ll get to visit her on occasion though! I know my Dad will take good care of her.

Recently, I’ve been watching my favorite childhood show Bakugan, partially for nostalgia, and partially as a commemorative event to remember that I had my whole life where I’m at currently, and now I’ll be moving forward. It’s actually really been helping me get through the days. I tend to be sentimental.

I’m so so sorry this is really long, I kinda just started typing and just couldn’t stop! Thank you so much for everything, I’ll keep you updated after closing (if all goes well), I don’t wanna keep flooding you with all these long messages! But seriously, thank you again for hearing me out, and for the request. I can’t thank you enough, and you have no idea how happy it all makes me! I’ll definitely be re-reading it for a while, especially when I feel stressed over the house. You have a wonderful day/night, and take care of yourself too!

Hi, house anon!!! I'm super stoked that you loved the request, I wanted to make it as perfect as possible because I completely understand what you're going through. Also a LOTR-themed living room?!? SWOON. I'm a HUGE Tolkien fan (so much so that I wrote a 200+ page retelling of The Hobbit on google docs in high school), and that sounds like literal heaven.

And about your cat, you could try bringing something that reminds you of her to comfort you in her absence? I recently lost my ball python and I've been cuddling with a microwaveable alligator plushie because it smells like my old room (so basically her), so you could maybe try that if things get really tough? Just know that, in the end, you're doing the right thing for her <33

PLEASE keep me updated. If you ever need someone to vent to, you have my permission to flood my inbox or even DMs with whatever you want, I promise I'll read it all. Take care and stay strong, you wonderful person! <333

[masteroffauxsmiles]

I haven’t touched art requests in a long time.

It’ll be pretty slow with me having classes and work. Please don’t flood my inbox with requests (only close friends can DM me their requests) I’m busy…

Anyway here are the rules

Once again DO NOT SPAM OR FLOOD MY INBOX BECAUSE I HAVE LIFE STUFF TO WORK THROUGH. PLUS ONLY CLOSE FRIENDS CAN DM ME THEIR REQUESTS. OTHERS CAN USE THE INBOX

If you use my DM but you’re a stranger to me, I’ll give you a gentle warning. Keep doing this and I won’t get it done at all.

[cherimoyatea]

Hello! I'm writing you anonymously out of embarrassment because the subject is quite sensitive for me. You don't need to reply, I just want to share with you the comfort that your words answering a post accusing people who receive a high % of AI content in the quillbot detector gave me (note that I say people who receive a high %, not people who actually use AI…).

I'll tell you my case. I'm a person who has always liked English a lot, but I'm not a native. I'm not a native by a long shot. I've recently found myself in a very stressful period of my life and I've found a lot of comfort writing fanfiction and sharing it in this community. I don't publish in my original language because it would mean reaching a very small community, and it's a real challenge for me to do it in English and that way I learn a lot.

The thing is that I write in the following way: I write ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING in my language. Then I translate with google translator (pretty dull), and I use chatgpt to look up single words. Yes. I search in chatgpt. Because for me, it's not so clear if scowl is more aggressive than frown, and I need that help. But the help I ask for is that, some vocabulary. I have never, ever asked for help to create the story itself. In fact, each fic takes me a lot of time and work. I've spent up to a month editing some because I'm a perfectionist.

When I saw the post yesterday criticizing ai, I launched the bot out of curiosity… and when I received percentages of between 25-50% on some fics, I started to cry. How was it possible that after all the work behind it, that tool makes me feel like a fraud? I thought about deleting everything. I was ashamed and thought about deleting my tumblr account… and then, I saw your post. And I understood many things.

So, THANK YOU.

PS: I'm using Google Translate right now :P

Hello Annonie!

First of all, thank you so much for reaching out and sharing your feelings with me. I'm so sorry to hear that you cried and even thought about deleting your blog. There is nothing wrong with using tools to improve your English or to check your grammar and sentence structure.

You did nothing wrong 🫂

People need to understand that these AI detectors, including Quillbot, are easy to manipulate and can be easily confused by a combination of factors, such as typos, commas, non-native writing patterns and so on...

Even Quillbot itself includes a disclaimer on their page, stating that their detector is not 100% reliable so please don't think too much about the results it gives you.

There's a huge difference between 25-50% and 50-80%

But this is exactly why @chaos-in-deepspace and others need to reconsider their approach to this subject. They're effectively harming people's mental health under the guise of spreading awareness. Even if unintentionally. (I tagged you to have a look at this, not to call you out, mind you).

In fact, you are not the first person to reach out to me about this. My inbox is flooded with messages from users who are terrified of being falsely accused, and my heart goes out to each and every one of you.

I'm sharing this publicly now because you wrote me anonymously; I hope that's okay.

For clarification: I'm not enabling AI writers. This is a matter that should be discussed, but not by throwing people under the bus.

Anyway.

Annonie, if you're reading this: Please promise me you'll take care of your health, alright? Log out, spend time with loved ones, do something that feels good to you. And if you feel like talking, you can always reach out to me anonymously 🩷✨

Remember: This is not the real world. This is just the internet, with a bunch of strangers sharing their insights on a game that's supposed to be fun.

Don't stop doing what you love. Share your stories, keep working on improving your English skills. You don't need to be perfect; just be patient with yourself, and someday you won't even need to rely on translators. 😊

Love, Cheri 🍒

[codecicle-archive]

listen i make a ton of jokes about finding charlie attractive and having my little crush on him, but I've seen so many people in his chat being absolutely insane lately. guys i also love charlie slimecicle big naturals he's hot it's fine i also log on tumblr and lose my mind over him but. that's kinda the whole point. i log into TUMBLR to call him hot. the amount of weird shit I've seen in his chat that his mods have had to go through and delete is worrying man ever since he started wearing contacts and eyeliner people are acting like it's a totally different guy all of a sudden.

i feel like people are forgetting that it's not just the streamer that can read your message, but the other people sharing a chat with you. i see what you're typing, the mods see what you're typing, other creators in his chat might see what you're typing, and most important charlie himself could see what you're typing. it's weird having the normally chill chat open and seeing people acting straight up abnormal all of a sudden.

i have exactly one example of this (who's username I will NOT say lmao iykyk) of this guy who donated well over 100 gifted subs without any messages to go along with it. chat and slime were thanking them and we moved on with the stream but then they showed back up in the chat and every 30 seconds they would copypaste to resend their message that just said "charlie if I give 50 gifted will you take your shirt off PLEASE I need this." the first time they sent this it was funny. chat (including me) laughed and pretty much said "bold move gifter. anyway" and nobody cared. then they did it again. and again. on repeat. this motherfucker begged for so long and would talk about charlies muscles and how they wanted him to take his shirt off in chat. there were no mods that day so there wasn't much chat could do other than try and scare them off with embarrassment (which eventually worked) but oh my god dude.

i cannot stress enough that it's ok to find streamers attractive. im the charlie slimecicle big naturals guy trust me dude I understand every time he does something I get a flood in my inbox of people asking if my brain has melted yet from the heat like dude. i GET it but please dear god is there anyway we could keep that away from the chat?? if not for the streamers sake but the others in chat and his mods?!?!?!??

i hate "discourse" posting so I'm so sorry for this next string of posts but i have shit I've gotta get off my chest immediately or I will just explode

[sockablock]

the best part about all the “fjord vjores swords” jokes from the Mighty Nein is that he never actually told them about the dream where he swallowed a sword, so in-game they just assumed he’s eating them and they’re RIGHT

[vagabond-umlaut]

blue hawaii

gojo satoru, the celebrated sorcerer, is far from normal. and so are you. everyone knows it; everyone accepts it.

geto suguru too did... until the muggy summer day the realization dawns upon him, on a car trip back from a mission, that you two are pretty normal. or at least, as much as they come...

but hey! who is geto referring to by 'they'?

two idiots in love with each other but too dumb to lend voice to their feelings, obviously.

whom else could he imply in your and gojo's case, huh?

▸ student! gojo satoru x student! gn! reader; 1.15k wc; pining! gojo; oblivious! snarky! reader; worried bestie! geto; wingman bestie! geto; fluff (loads and loads of it)

▸ summer has shoved spring out the way, and, jjk season 2 trailer has shoved all the important stuff out my brain. lolol. anyways, gif, divider and characters ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"gojo's ridiculous, isn't he?"

"i don't think so," you hum, glancing at geto from the corner of your eye. "attention-hungry would describe him better, i guess."

your senpai huffs a quiet chuckle, looking ahead. "yeah, you're right."

lips twitching into a tiny smile, you too return your gaze forwards, to the kakigori stand where your other senpai stands. a wide grin on his face, directed at the gaggle of girls around him, as they bombard him with questions, giggles erupting every time he replies.

it has always been this way, you think as you drag your eyes from the scene before to your watch. eleven-thirty, it says, and an exasperated sigh leaves you.

it was nine-thirty when the three of you started from iwaki, mission being over the night prior - yet, in spite of two hours elapsing since then, you're still stuck at hitachi. if this same speed of travel is kept, you're sure you won't reach the school before late this afternoon.

another long sigh escaping, you hop back onto the hood of the car and pluck out your phone - only to have it taken away a beat later. "geto senpai, please," you grumble, looking up with a scowl - to an even more scowling face looking down at you.

"how long will you run away from your feelings?" the boy inquires, flipping your phone shut as a concerned pair of eyes sweep over your features. "the longer you delay it, the farther satoru will go away from you. don't you realize that?"

your frown deepens. incredulity sneaks into your voice as you ask, a flurry of questions hitting the opposite person, "feelings? what feelings? and why would gojo senpai go away from me? did i do anything wrong? the hell are you talking about, senpai?"

geto pinches the bridge of his nose, visibly annoyed - and tired. you simply jump off your seat in response, coming to stand beside him again, the skin of your forehead drawn into lines and furrows.

a long second passes before the silence between you two is broken. with another glance at gojo, who is now scribbling something on a notepad in the distance, he looks back to you. "satoru is giving those girls his contact details now; what does that make you feel?"

sparing gojo a glance, you lean back against the car, stuffing hands into your pockets. "irritated, i guess." your answer seems to delight geto as he cracks a tiny knowing smile, mimicking your posture. "oh, really? and why is it so?"

a sly smirk overtakes your features as you look back to find gojo send you a 'please help' look. of course, that bastard will drag you to ward off these pests now. you aren't really bothered, though.

you'll willingly go through a thousand of these troubles, if it means the white-haired sorcerer stays safe and happy at the end of the day.

snatching your phone away from his grasp, you offer geto a shrug paired with a toothy grin. "it is so because it won't be gojo senpai's inbox which will be flooded with love confessions by today evening. it'll be my phone's inbox."

your senpai raises an eyebrow, as if asking if you're kidding or not.

you know he knows you're not. gojo and you share dynamics just as crazy as that.

you continue, grinning, "and it is only so long before one grows tired and irritated of reading and deleting the same kind of messages, over and over again, ya know? even more if you're single and you know you're more attractive than the person these were intended to."

a loud guffaw erupts from him in response to your comments. wiping a tear from his eye, the boy pats your shoulder genially.

"you two are unbelievable. you, more than him," geto says, shaking his head, a fond exasperation tangible in his tone. your lips quirk up smugly. "now go, save your damsel in distress. you've been receiving quite a few sos signals till now, haven't you?

chuckling, you push yourself off the car, and with a nod and a salute, amble over to the kakigori stand.

from where he is reclining against the car, geto watches the way the crowd grows stunned as you enter their line of vision. the way it takes a couple of milliseconds before their focus switches from gojo to you.

a snicker escapes the boy as he observes the girls' once vibrant faces wilt, when you wrap an arm around gojo's torso and the latter leans into your touch - a soft look skittering across his classmate's now-red face as he gazes down at you; you beaming up at him.

geto's snicker tempers down to a relieved smile. checking his watch, he gets into the car, onto the driver's seat, and starts the engine.

gojo isn't really a playboy. you aren't really silencing your heart.

the two of you are just plain old idiots.

one enough of an idiot to pine away wordlessly for all eternity.

the other even more of an idiot to be ignorant of their feelings in the first place, despite how glaringly, utterly obvious they always are.

a relaxed smile crawls onto geto's lips as he spots the two of you walk towards the car, a rosy tinge to your cheeks as the both of you laugh loudly, gojo swinging your intertwined hands in between you two.

shoko was right, geto muses. the two of you meanwhile slide into the back seat, tears rolling down your cheeks from your howling laughter. gojo simply stares at you with a lovestruck smile, dazed eyes darting from where you've clutched his arm to your chortling expression.

driving the car back onto the road, the boy throws his best friend an eyebrow waggle in the rear-view mirror, when you let out a yawn and nestle closer to the latter, eyes closing and arms wrapping loosely around his midsection.

the white-haired asshole responds to his not-so-innocent implication with a rude hand gesture, while his other hand comes to pat the side of your head gently.

geto's teasing grin doesn't diminish one bit.

gojo and you might as well be the most terrible idiots in this whole world. yet... against all former misgivings, geto thinks- no, knows- your romance will never be as terrible nor pathetic as the two of you.

if all the cards are played right - the black-haired boy is pretty sure - you two might even grow to be the sweetest couple in town.

[all thanks to you, though, should it happen.

gojo might be his fellow strongest sorcerer, his partner-in-crime, his one and only best friend - but he'll never be good enough for geto to fib, saying he too contributed to the both of you gaining that title.

if anything, the only moniker that goggles-wearing classmate of his can get you is 'the most embarrassing couple in town'. nothing less and definitely nothing more than that. geto is damn sure of that.]

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