#obvi been through a lot the past few days

[elliesbelle]

I hope you’re doing okay belle, rest and take as much time as you need <3

thank you love, trying to 🤍

[seraphdreams]

SMILE, YOU'RE ON CAMERA. | YUUTA OKKOTSU.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. when taking care of your university finances proves troublesome, the universe grants you your very own savior. but it’s gonna cost you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, college au!yuuta / bimbo reader (obvi), filming, lots of porn references… a lot, virginity loss, praise, oral n fingering, slight obsession, pussydrunk yuuta, unprotected love making, yuuta’s rich and unsettling. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 5.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! omg, yuuta? i meant to have this out a few weeks ago but got caught in a little writing slump :( nevertheless, here’s to a new year and a new fic! yuuta’s been slowly creeping his way up my favs list , tehe !! as always, please reblog / comment if you enjoyed this , it’ll fill me with joy. thank u ♡

you’re a pornstar.

albeit, an amateur one with heaps to learn regarding the ruthless industry, but the weight still stands.

the details in which you came to the jarring conclusion were muddled with the convoluted steps that it took for you to get there, murky in your bubblegum-filled mind. all you knew was that yuuta okkotsu was a force, a gentle one, to be reckoned with.

it must’ve played out once you returned to your campus dorm beyond the dusk of midnight, under an unmitigating fatigue from the twelve hour waitressing shift just prior. through abhorrent patrons and the lack of a spendable paycheck, the excruciatingly long night barely made you enough money to even think about buying those dollish pumps you’ve been yearning for. how cruel.

in between working and haphazardly handing your earnings over to university fees and textbooks, you just couldn’t seem to make ends meet.

you would curse the day you took it upon yourself to branch away financially from your parents under the guise of growing up, since now it’d be a blessing to have even a cellphone bill paid off. whatever the issue seemed to be, lady luck was truly never bothered enough to be on your side.

fortunately for you, though, it was that same arduous night, you had been huddled against your stuffed animals in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the various social media apps on your phone; switching from sites like instagram and twitter to youtube then right back to instagram all over again, only to be met with an offer dusted in pink glitter that caught your eye as if it were made for you.

“stars needed — will pay upfront.”

it was a shoddy story post, one that could be clicked past and forgotten forever — yet, a brisk reminder of your situation in the form of borrowed, used textbooks with pages missing or vandalized, and today’s horoscope that said to take risks; you did exactly that, aiming a swipe up that would ultimately rid you of the worries of yesterday.

there were no reasons as to why you couldn’t be a star. certainly, you had the face for it, and you were told by multiple charmers that you were beyond beguiling to get anything you could ever ask for. what dismay could possibly unfold from contacting .. yuuta okkotsu .. about his offer?

hm, that’s funny. the name rang familiarity as it seeded in your mind.

must be one of yuuji’s friends.

itadori yuuji, your best friend of three years now. out of all the time you’d spent together, you came to realize that he could get along with anyone, despite their true intentions. he spoke highly of his friends as well, which earned him a sacred spot in your heart that couldn’t be replaced by anyone.

itadori had briefly mentioned in a ramen-fueled frenzy that one of his peers were “so insanely talented” and that you’d definitely get on with him. but when you asked for validity on that vague claim, all yuuji seemed to respond with was a mere “just meet him, you’ll see.”

from your recollection, the acquaintance he was boasting about, as if it was his own personal victory, was none other than your yuuta okkotsu. he was meek, stuck to a close-knit friend group consisting of maki and toge from your physics class, and the one time you ever spoke to him was to ask about yuuji’s whereabouts, to which he responded that he went back to his dorm after gojo-sensei’s lecture.

he seemed, normal. average, even. that surely had to be the case since your memory was hazy on his being otherwise.

it was true, though, yuuta was gifted. in a way that transcended words, skillful towards visual aesthetics, and careful with the craft. he would spend most of his freetime fumbling with a camera or recording the works of the mundane. overtly, he’d grown such a strong passion in the field of videography in hopes to capture the reality of humanity, the authenticity within intimacy — what could he possibly need a “star” for?

shadiness aside, you were in a tough spot, willing to do whatever to free yourself from the financial burden that was jujutsu technical university. with a swift swipe in tandem with the soft tapping of the pads of your thumbs on the keyboard, you were taking yuuta up on his offer.

within seconds, he responded back with his address and an appropriate meet-up date to start the project.

if only you were aware of how drastically your life would change from here on out.

a cluster of days had passed since you last got into contact with yuuta. he had told you to meet him at his place, claiming it would be more efficient than traveling to an unnamed destination with pounds of heavy photography equipment.

where you stood currently, was in front of the bare oak of his front door, hand wrapped in a loose fist as you knocked gently on the wood. a quick moment had passed by before you took initiative to raise your fist and knock once more. before your touch could meet the wood, a muffled “coming!” chimed beyond the door. from what you had heard on the other side; the scuttling behind the door and jingle of the lock, yuuta had opened the door soon after.

with his hand rubbing away the goosebumps that stood at the back of his neck, he beamed. cordially, warmly.

“you’re actually here. hi,”

upon first glance, yuuta had a distinct look. he stood tall, not tall enough to matter or incite intimidation, and although he wore a black button-up (a bit formal for an occasion as casual as today), his lean build shone through under the thin fabric, ripples of veins dancing up his forearms. what you couldn’t miss, however, were the grey eyebags under his emotionless navy orbs, as if he’d forgone weeks of sleep.

yuuta okkotsu was unsettling.

“hi,” your voice sounded as a sweet croon, dulcet enough that you could barely hear it yourself as it escaped in a breathy breeze. his smile grew softer in response, that monotonous gaze in his eyes fizzling away into something of serenity. “come in, please,” yuuta held the door open wider for you to tread past, caught up in observing the bunch of fabric that hugged tightly around your ass, then closed it gently behind you once you stepped completely inside. he silently cursed at himself for ogling — he truly didn’t mean to stare. you’re just a lot prettier up close. “i was just getting set up. you can have a seat if you’d like.”

as you’d expect from any guy your age, his place wasn’t much to gaze at, nor did it have much personality. in a corner to your right was a houseplant, that of the fern variety, and a few steps deeper into the abode was the living room, where yuuta resumed his fumbling with the transfiguration of his tripod.

you decided to sit on the couch across from him, taking in the bleak sight of his home. you would have almost believed it was unlived in had it not been for the scattered midterm review papers decorating his coffee table. it was obvious he had money from the endless rows of space that surrounded the two of you, although a candle or something would be nice.

he peered away from his tripod to look through the viewfinder of his camera, ensuring that the lens was functioning properly. he grew pleased to see the image of you distracted in fiddling with your thumbs reflected back at him. “are you nervous?” his gaze fell upon you through his own eyes, a concerned expression harboring his features.

you were pulled out of your muse of unfamiliarity to direct your attention to the sound of his mild voice, returning a smile to his that eased the worriment trapped behind dull, blue eyes. “n-not really, i don’t think.”

his lips curled up once more at that, in fact there wasn’t a time so far that you hadn’t noticed him without his signature smile. “here, let me help with that,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen before ultimately turning it back off and settling it back into its place in his pocket.

your phone vibrated beside you, screen lighting up with a bold alert.

[YUUTA OKKOTSU SENT $1000]

before you had a chance to even process the significance of the notification, he started back up,

“i hope i got the right information, wouldn’t want your hard work to get in the wrong hands.” the tilt of his head in tandem with a chuckle resonated sheepishly, and he returned to watch you through his camera lens.

he was right. the money did soothe your nerves.

“i’ve barely done anything yet.” a ditzy giggle followed soon after your sentence, a sound that yuuta couldn’t possibly ignore. you were already starting to pull at his heartstrings.

“and you’ve done it so perfectly,” his praise left you flustered in that moment and you bit down softly on your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. “thank you, yuuta.”

you would’ve never guessed that your introverted classmate had enough experience in him to be such a flirt, or have your cheeks heating up with fervid affection, no less. but maybe yuuta was just like that; maybe this had been natural.

“no, thank you.” his thumb hovered over the record button just as his eyes met your gaze over the brim of the camera. “would you like to start now?”

he took the nod of your head as confirmation to press the record button, finally getting started with the project.

you blinked blankly at him as he tilted his head and flashed a warmhearted grin. “how old are you?” was his first question. he had asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. as he did so, you took notice of the silver ring donned around his finger.

he couldn’t have been married, no?

keeping your answer as vague as possible for the sake of matching his comforting warmth, you responded, “twenty-something.” he let out a satisfied huff of air as he nodded and moved onto his next query.

“and what’s your major?”

with the question barely having enough time to linger in the suggestively tense air, he added, “you’re very beautiful, by the way. do you mind taking your dress off for me?”

as much as it should’ve alarmed you, you were swayed by his toothachingly inviting timbre, its gentleness pulling compliancy from you in a matter of a few mere words. you only shook your head, forgoing the short piece of fabric that clung to each curve and dip of your body while your nipples hardened under the glacial, artificial breeze of his home. once the silk pooled at your hips, that, along with your panties were dropped onto the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable under the camera — and yuuta’s watchful eye.

he swallowed thickly at the sight, remaining as respectful as he could despite the monster growing in his pants; his eyes locked right back onto yours as if he’d get striked down for moving them even a millimeter south. “are you a virgin?” he queried, opting to move his hand from awkwardly at his side to fidgeting with the button at his shirt, ultimately undoing it and revealing another inch of skin at his heated chest.

from the nature of what you had signed yourself up for, you were hesitant to answer his question. of course you needed experience to be a star, and with you lacking the preconceived ability, you could kiss your $1000 goodbye..

yet he looked at you with an expectant gaze. no traces of malice in his eyes or frustration from your quick witted silence, but merely, with patience. and in that moment you couldn’t find it within yourself to lie.

“i am,” out of shame, you curled in on yourself, hoping that the sofa would engulf you, and your feelings, crossing your arms over your bare chest as if it’d create a wall of privacy behind your own humiliation. “is that okay?”

yuuta’s being only grew warmer at the response, you figured he’d be hot to the touch by now, from searing pleasure or unshakeable cordiality, you wouldn’t know. “yeah, that’s okay,” it came out breathier than he would’ve liked, a telltale sign of his aching desire. “that’s more than okay.”

truth be told, he had never met anyone as enchanting as you. you looked up at him with such trust in your eyes that it daunted him — fear that the assurance he wielded from you would shatter beneath him, and he’d be drowning. in a sea of his own wistfulness. now that he had you, he couldn’t let you go.

you were on to make a breathtaking star.

now feeling less coy than before, you relaxed your head into the palm of yuuta’s hand. you hadn’t noticed how long he’d been stroking at your cheek, or when he closed the vexing proximity between the two of you, all that mattered in that moment was the roll of his gentle vocables flowing through your ears and the thumb of his that graciously caressed your cheek.

you came to realize that he was much more handsome this way as your eyes toured his own, then down to the sliver of sweat-sheened skin peeking from underneath the black veil of his shirt, then down to his…

he’s so fucking hard.

confined against his slacks was his cock that leaked an ample amount even while it was untouched. you could make out its silhouette, something girthy, perhaps heavy, but nothing like you’d expect from yuuta. uncharacteristically huge.

“yuuta.” you whispered, mainly to yourself, as your mouth began to water at the sight, and his cheeks dusted pink once he realized what you were fixated upon.

“do you wanna,” he started up but faltered soon after when your lidded gaze flitted back up towards his. never had he felt so weak before, it was as if you’d casted a spell on him. “do you maybe want to—” he paused to avert his own gaze and embarrassment. “—put it in your mouth?���

he could’ve sworn he heard the increase of his heartbeat in his ears when you crinkled your brows, pretty face forming into an even prettier pout.

“but i’ve never—”

he stopped you before you could start, interjecting his own voice of reassurance.

“it’s okay. i’ll guide you,” taking his camera off its stand and moving the rest of the configuration elsewhere, he held it in one hand to better capture the scene unfolding before him. “just try your best for me, okay?”

“okay.” when he returned your concern with a small smile, you took it upon yourself to undo the arrangement of his pants, carefully hooking your finger into the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulling down just enough for his length to spring free.

for what felt like minutes, you marveled at his sheer size, wondering how anyone of his nature could possibly be hiding something like that. it curved upwards with a prominent vein or two running up the underside while it continued to leak, so much so, that you had to collect it all at the tip with your finger.

the tip? flushed the prettiest pink you’d ever witnessed and was as bulbous as it was mushroomed, you knew you’d have a bit of difficulty trying to fit into your mouth. it seemed to twitch under the fanning of your breath to which yuuta let out a whine of pure impatience.

“can i..?” your words trailed off when you involuntarily found yourself pressing chaste kisses along the length of his cock until they met with his sticky tip; a recreated scene from the various porn videos you’d seen. the sensation sent a jolt of palpable pleasure through his being, yuuta’s dark hair curtaining over his eyes while he made a damn good attempt at silencing his moans, with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.

your eyes kept watch at his wavering expression while you wrapped your hand at the base of his length and began to pump slowly, yet another thing you had learned through the fascinating world of porn.

“suck it,” it was clear to you that yuuta had grown desirously impatient from your teasing, looking down at you with a hint of hunger in his beautiful orbs. “please?”

you took his words as an incentive to finally give him what he’s been leaking for, wrapping gloss-sheened lips around the thick inches of his tip, accommodating for the stretch with a dulcet whine that reverberated deeply within him. had you not been caught up in building the gradual bob of your head, he would’ve kissed you, left you with smeared lips and a tongue that ached for only him upon seeing the sinful sight of innocent eyes fixated on his own. you’re beautiful. truly, to die for.

caught all on tape to be watched over and over again.

at the bliss, yuuta’s lip parted open, alotting for a slur of groans turned whimpers to tumble past. “you- you’re already doing, so good.” he praises, the words floating on his breath. his free hand finds itself back at your face, thumbing the warmth of your hallowed cheek while he captured the moment behind his lens. once you came to a comfortable rhythm, you couldn’t stop yourself from dipping your fingers between your thighs to ease the evergrowing ache in your core. in fact, you’d been like this since the moment yuuta spoke a word to you, lightheaded and malleable — what he’s beginning to love most about you.

your digits collected slick at your entrance, the immeasurable amount of essence that you’d pool providing ample leeway for you to sink three fingers inside, pumping at the same rhythm in which you’re sucking yuuta. soft fingertips curling against your gummy walls weren’t enough, though, and when he had caught notice of your weakening resolve, his hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth.

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” he began, with a choked moan. “just- so close, so fucking close. c-can you take me in deeper?”

the hum of assurance that sounded from you sent vibrations coursing through his cock, from tip to base. had you not been preoccupied with chasing your own high, you would’ve missed the pitchy moan he let out just after. with your palm now pressed up against your clit while you worked in tandem to pleasure the nub and your greedy hole, you attempted to swallow another stubborn inch of him.

simultaneous with the bobbing of your head, he matched your pace, abdomen flexing when the white-hot pleasure became too much and he could feel it in his ears. he wanted so badly to throw his head back, completely lose himself in bliss, but he had a job to do. he wouldn’t dare let the sight of your glassy lidded eyes and glossy lips struggling to wrap themselves around the stretch of his dick go unfilmed, unseen.

as his tip continued to prod the back of your throat and your fingers aided you in relieving the discomfort from your cunt, you found yourself just dangling off the dangerous edge of your release, strokes away from making a mess — and yuuta did too.

it wasn’t long until his head started spinning, legs got weaker, and his core coiled tighter; all the signs of a mindblowing orgasm, and blew his mind, you did. “baby- y/n, if you keep doing that- i might cum.” what he was referring to was the way you fondled his balls in the warmth of your soft hands, yet another trick you had learned from porn. “i don’t wanna cum in your mouth but if you—,”

a jumbled slew of curses flowed from his lips as he did the inevitable, shot his load deep down your throat, gently thrusting his cock in shallow strokes to jettison every last remaining drop. the taste on your tongue was nothing like you’d be warned of before. yuuta wasn’t bitter, he went down easy.

hell, you’d use his cum as a condiment for desserts if you could.

in a matter of moments, your own high had washed over you like cold water over a heated body, much needed and refreshing. once he hesitantly pulled out from the heat of your mouth, cock still hard and twitching for more, he gently pushed back strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“can i see?”

you held out your cream-slickened fingers, sopping with your juices as yuuta proceeded to catch how they dripped on camera. he then took your palm, with the cadence of a knight kissing the back of a princess’s hand, and slipped the soiled digits into his mouth. his tongue lavved around your index and middle fingers while he hummed satisfactorily at your taste. “you’re just as sweet as i imagined.” he smiled, finding amusement in your post-orgasmic, dazed state.

“do you do this with a lot of other girls, yuuta?” you queried, taking the time to scan your eyes over his face. it was as if he seemed to get more attractive as your time with him went on. he tilted his head slightly, finding your question endearing. “you’re my first, actually.” yuuta responded softly, as if his normal speaking voice would be too heavy on your delicate ears.

you jumped at the chance to tease him as he did you, placing your thumb back over the slit of his hard-on and lightly rubbing; which resonated within yuuta as a tonal mewl. a little smile pulled at your lips when you got your perfect reaction. “can you be my first?”

“i’d love to be,” he took your request with unadulterated honor as if he’d been tasked by the deities above to serve you. “just- just lay back for me. i promise i’ll take good care of you.”

and that you did; conforming to his call of request with such compliance it made his heart swell. you had positioned your body to rest languidly against the seat of the sofa, shaky legs hesitant to spread fully while your hand roamed up your sternum to find solace in kneading your tits.

he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked, laid out for him as such. how had he been so lucky to be the only one to have the opportunity to marvel at the scene? with a steady hand, he faintly trails his hand up the expanse of your inner thigh, a silent beckon for you to open your legs wider. involuntarily so, your body had accepted his presence and allowed for the spreading of your thighs.

what you’d come to notice with yuuta was that he was watchful, observant. he seemed to pick up on every detail, even the minuscule bits that were most likely to fly over anyone else’s head, had been taken into account. it’s probably why he’s immensely proficient at what he does. not once had he allowed himself to miss the labored heaving of your chest, or the sheen of sweat thinly coating your body — the twitching of your clit when he stroked featherlight touches at the nub. he couldn’t call himself a true cameraman then.

his fingers had collected remnants of your previous orgasm before they worked in tandem, both middle and ring, to prod at your sensitive hole, slowly sinking themselves in. it was almost embarrassing how quickly your greedy cunt swallowed him in, as if it’d been waiting for his touch for years now. “y-yuuta, ‘m still sensitive.” you crooned in response to his digits exploring your cavern, plush walls gripping him with such tautness that he’d found it difficult to even curl his fingers.

his own mind spun (and cock leaked) at the thought of that same warmth around his length, and when you called his name, all he could think about was how pretty you’d sound moaning it. he wouldn’t mind if you were sonorous, if the neighbors would hear, if inumaki who lived downstairs would come knocking with a mouthful of complaints, if the whole world knew his name; because in that moment, yuuta okkotsu was yours.

yuuta okkotsu was in love.

after some shallow pumping, enough to have your legs attempting to enclose around his arm, yuuta had pulled his digits out and replaced the lost sensation with the fat tip of his cock stroking your slit up and down.

“i’m gonna put it in, okay? if you want me to stop, tell me. if i'm going too fast or slow, let me know.”

he perused your face for a hint of an answer, seemingly nothing going on behind your vacant, large eyes. your initial response was curt, an ode to the simplistic nature of your mind. “mhm.”

how endearing you were to him, just a unadorned reaction weakening his being, causing his heart to figuratively crumble within its confines against his ribcage. he had searched for a heartier answer, something tangible to hold on to, because, lord knows how terrible he’d feel if he took your indication the wrong way. “can you be vocal for me, please?”

you nodded your head. “i’ll let you know, yuuta.”

with a carefulness that only came from the most benign of beings, he had sunken the first inch of himself into your awaiting heat.

he was paused when your hand dashed to his lower abdomen, futilely pressing against the skin.

“wait—” you huffed wantonly. “—‘s too big.”

his eyes wavered with concern, hidden under the veil of pure arousal. in yuuta’s case he had dreamed of a compliment as self fulfilling as yours, for his thoughts of being average were shattered upon first inch. “should i stop?”

you shook your head, reveling in the light of his attentivity towards you and your body. “no,” you moved your hand from his abdomen. “don’t stop.”

one of his arms rested beside your head, helping to prop him up over your body while he dropped his head down to watch the way your bodies connected. gradually, the sight of his length slowly sinking inside, stretching you out further and further until he was in to the hilt flooded his vision. yuuta had caught on to your labored gasps, merely growing harder from your honeyed voice like music to his ears.

he then lifted his head, strands of inky, out-of-place tresses falling over his face and partially covering the depth of lingering eyes, that lingered for a second too long, causing that shuddering sensation you had once felt when you first met him to reappear. he held his camcorder beside his face, an all too cheerful grin masked over his features. “i’m all in!”

creepy.

there was no doubt that you hadn’t felt full. he practically spilled over with how much girth he possessed and throbbed innately within your walls. the swell of your tummy from just how deep he was, was enough to tear away at his composure and drag his length back before driving his hips in at a force unrecognizable to him. the yelp you had let out from his eager thrust dwindled into a blissful moan. “sorry, so sorry.” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the faultless assortment of breathtaking features that was your face, eyebrows creased together, parted lips and eyes squeezed closed as if you’d been focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.

his next thrust stroked softer than its predecessor, having no remnants of eagerness but instead, the nuance of a man that’d been simply smitten.

the meticulousness of his ministrations coursed through your body wondrously, each push and pull lathered in lust, savored to be remembered for the rest of his time on earth. it was as if he’d known your body for years, knew every dip and fold, every swell and mast, aware of what exactly it took to leave your body hungry for his touches.

you’d grown comfortable in the pace at which he set, your mind hazing over each time the blunt tip grazed along your gspot. he peppered kisses along your jaw and down your sternum, the fanning of his warm breath against your chest doing the minimum in stiffening the peaks of your breasts. shootable footage forgotten, yuuta took your mound into his mouth, teeth gently rolling against your nipple which caused you to tighten around his cock in response, the sweetest mewl he’s ever heard from you tumbling from your throat.

“at least take me on a date first, yuuta..” the wittiness of your voice had earned a stifled smile from him, finding utmost admiration in the suggestion. he’ll be sure to take you up on your offer, just as you had done for him.

when you felt the familiar coil within you starting to build up once more, you dipped your hand down to rub at your clit in tandem with the increasing vigor of his strokes. the sensation was all too foreign to you, too pleasurable that you couldn’t keep your sounds at bay. “‘m so close, g-gonna cum!” you had warned, yuuta pulled away from your tit with a soft pop. he chose to rest his head at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, mindlessly chanting the words like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you,” his pace faltered, growing sloppier by the second. “love you, love you so much.”

intoxicated by your heat, your scent, just you being you, and being so perfect — yuuta was pussydrunk. incredibly so. never in his life had he ever felt as high as you made him. you were an angel, sent to him from heaven, to defile and mark.

quickly, your release surged through you in torrents of ecstasy, nothing that you’ve experienced before, coating yuuta’s cock in the glorious essence of you. “cumming!” you cry, to no avail particularly since yuuta wasn’t wholeheartedly aware of the situation at hand. his mind was clouded with you, just as you were full of him, wincing in the aftershocks of your fervent orgasm and convulsing around his length with need.

it wasn’t long before his own ununified thrusts came to a sudden close, signifying the warm spurts of cum painting your insides, filling you entirely to the brim and leaking down your ass from riding out his high.

“god, i love you.” he whined, pressing faint kisses to your neck, unable to peel himself away from your fervid body. coming to your senses, his words finally resonated for you. “we only just met.”

he pulled himself up, opting to look down at your flushed face with a vague hint of confusion on his face as he tilted his head. “have we?”

“we have.” you nodded.

to yuuta, he’s known you his whole life. you were the light of his existence, the fire in his heart. had he managed to confuse you with someone else? surely, that wasn’t the case.

once he pulled out of you, he made sure to capture the moment that you leaked his seed on film, but in that time, borrowed jealousy had filled his soul. he couldn’t share the tape as he had planned, no one else deserved to see you in the same way he did. no one.

he tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you bare and oozing for just one second to fetch a warm wet rag to clean you up with. when he came back, you noticed just how chipper he’d gotten, if that were even possible. “you were amazing,” he smiled, gently wiping your folds pristine. “i’m so grateful you came to me.” the smile you returned matched his own, “thank you, you were- really good too.”

he perked up, eyes moving from between your thighs to your face. “really?” and when you nodded to him, you could see the apparent relief flow within his being. “you know,” he started. “i’m very interested in you.”

you tilt your head, jutting your lips in a cute pout. “interested, how?”

the camcorder that now resided on his coffee table, unpresumebly documenting the scene on display was picked up by yuuta, and turned off. he grinned softly, eyes shutting from his ear to ear smile.

“may i take you on a date?”

[chronicdisasterwrites]

for you, i would

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru (gojo’s past arc)

genre + warnings: - JJK S2 SPOILERSSS !! deaths (obvi), panic attack, funeral mentioned, smoking, just major pain. everybody's just hella depressed, swears are said, shifts between past and present (italics is past, normal is present moment), the slow burn is KILLING ME

ANGST but then it's FLUFFY :') bittersweet fluff tho (i'm sorry)

word count: 3,953

authors note: okay you asked, i hope i delivered omg :') this is the part 2 of my fic "death is pretty but his eyes are prettier". this might just be a series, because I have some ideas.

enjoyyy <3

Suguru’s gone. He’s now exiled from Jujutsu High and a certified criminal. Shoko’s putting on a nonchalant show and Satoru is lost. And you are not quite sure how to process so much information all at once. 

---

It's been a few days since your encounter with the special grade curse. A few days since you and Satoru had that moment in the hall. Days have passed since then, but your mind still seems to be stuck there, wondering why it felt so different. Since then, every time you've been near Satoru felt different. His looks looked different, his voice sounded different, his aura felt different. You felt different, and you're not sure what changed. Now you were being sent off to another assignment and Satoru was being sent off on a different assignment, and this distance could either make things a good different or a bad different. Now, what you think would be a good different is a thought you don't even want to ponder.

“Hey, you.”

Satoru moves his eyes from the window to acknowledge you. You're leaning against the classroom door with a backpack slung over your shoulder and a smile on your face. A smile that Satoru returns tenfold.

“Hey there. You start missin’ me already?”

You snort with a laugh and walk toward him. Leaning on the desk next to where he was sitting, you lightly shove his head, “Absolutely not.”

He laughs heartily and leans forward on his chair, resting his head on the palm of his hand. He's looking at you through his ever-present dark sunglasses with a dopey smile, and this is exactly what makes your stupid heart flutter, and you just don't understand why. You smile back but it doesn't stay on your face for long enough. Satoru notices of course and similarly his smile is also wiped from his face and replaced with a quizzical quirk of his brows.

“You’re worried. Question is, why?”

You shrug and bring your hand up to bite the skin around your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were a child. Something you've always done to avoid answering unwanted questions or just to avoid the storm in your mind. Satoru sighs and lightly holds your wrist to move it away from your face. He holds your hand and assesses every finger, slowly tracing the lines on your palm with his slender fingers, then your bitten nails, then the veins on your inner wrist. You blush.

“I don't know, this mission just feels different, I guess. I mean…” You look out the window and observe the blue sky with its fluffy white clouds. There's a black rogue cloud creeping up on the clear ones, and you sense a storm coming. You know Satoru and Suguru are strong and they're perfect for this job. But of course you’ll worry, and your voice does nothing to hide that, not that you could even if you tried. Not with Satoru, anyways.

“It’s just a lot for anyone, y’know?”

Satoru looks up from your hand and with soft eyes and an even softer smile he says, “Sure, but nothing we can't handle. And anyways,” His smile gets cheekier and cheeks get warmer, “I gotta come back soon, right? Can't have you bein’ all sad and mopey without me.”

You laugh and shove your hands in your pockets, turning to leave the room when Satoru calls your name.

“Be careful on your mission. I'll see you soon, yeah?”

You look back and smile, “Yeah, you too.”

—-

“So I heard you losers are tasked with babysitting the star plasma vessel? Amanai, was it?” You find Suguru smoking on the balcony near the courtyard on campus. He cranes his neck to look back at you and gives you a small smile.

Blowing out a puff of smoke, Suguru offers you his half-smoked cigarette. You accept it and bring it to your lips as you take your place next to him. 

“Yeah. Riko Amanai. I thought you had a mission outside Tokyo?” Suguru asks head tilted as he leans against the wooden railing. 

“Yeah in a bit. Wanted to catch you before I leave. I already met Satoru,” you reply as you blow out smoke through your nose and return the remaining cigarette to him. He hums and holds the cig between his index finger and thumb as he puffs it twice before stubbing it out in the ashtray half filled with cigarette butts. 

You both stare ahead at the courtyard, basking in the shared silence. You think about the responsibility on their shoulders and how heavy it must be; considering the star plasma vessel is just a few years younger than the four of you. Being raised with only one obligation; to be preserved and grow in isolation for the rest of her years. It isn’t something anyone would want. But that’s Riko Amanai’s life. 

“Stop worrying,” Suguru looks at you with an easygoing smile. 

You are always amazed at how well he could read you. So you just laugh and pat his back twice before turning to leave. 

“Just be careful, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

---

You’re lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling; paralyzed. Things went to shit so fast. Riko had been killed by a man called Toji Zenin or Fushiguro; at this point, you’re not sure. You’ve heard him be called both Zenin and Fushiguro. But nothing had been the same. Suguru was different. Satoru was now the strongest and being sent on more and more solo missions overseas, and back then, you felt in your bones that something was wrong. Everything was wrong anyways. Riko Amanai didn’t deserve the life she got. She didn’t deserve to die like that. And you know Satoru and Suguru. They were headstrong and stubborn; doing things their own way regardless of what anyone said. They were the strongest, after all. So you knew things were worse than they seemed because you know for a fact that if Riko chose to live, they would do whatever it took to make her wish come true. And you were right. 

---

Your mission was more or less a success. A dead curse and a few bruises here and there is the best outcome any Jujutsu sorcerer can hope for. But the air in Jujutsu High felt different. Thicker, darker, and not at all the way it was when you left it. Figuring Satoru and Suguru’s mission regarding the star plasma vessel should be complete, you head out to look for them. Heading towards the guy's dorms, it doesn’t take long before you find the hunched-over figure with jet-black hair sitting on the benches near the vending machines. 

You approach him with a soft call of his name. Suguru lifts his head to look at you as he mutters your name with a greeting. He looks awful. He looks skinnier and his hair is mostly wet as if he didn’t even bother to dry it off completely after taking a shower. Dark eyebags and half-lidded eyes make him look so much older than he is. Ironically, he looks smaller too. As if the life had been sucked right out of him.

You move forward slowly taking a seat next to him. You lean back and stretch out your legs and wait for him to say something, anything. Preferably about the mission and why he looks so fucked up. But he just asks about your mission.

You reply with a shrug, “It was fine.”

He nods his head as you wait for him to say more. He doesn’t.

“Suguru…what happened?”

He looks detached, lost. He purses his lips and fiddles with his thumbs. “Riko was killed.”

You don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything at all. 

“You know, she wanted to live. Satoru and I decided that we’d support any decision she’d make. She wanted to live longer with her friends, and her family. But then-“ he chokes up. Trying to mask it with a cough he just shrugs and exhales. He lets his head hang low.

“They were clapping,” he clenches his fists and you feel his cursed energy spike. 

You don’t know what he means by that. You’re in shock and you have no idea what to say. What can you possibly say to make any of this better? Apologizing seems ridiculous. Saying “she deserved better” is even stupider. Of course, he knows she deserved better. You reach out your hand to touch him before he speaks again.

“I was wrong. These people. These monkeys… they don’t deserve to be protected.”

He looks at your outreached hand and gives a half smile. He unclenches his fists to hold your hand in his larger ones. He caresses your knuckles as you say the only thing that you feel.

“You’re right. They don’t deserve to be protected.”

Suguru looks at you with eyes filled with curiosity and surprise as if he expected you to say the opposite.

You look at his hands holding yours, squeezing his hand once as you continue. 

“But then, there are also people like Riko, who do deserve to be protected, right?”

His eyes widen and his hand slacks as he stares at you. Right when he opens his mouth to say something, Haibara’s boisterous voice fills the room. He greets the both of you and you smile back as you retract your hand from Suguru’s and stand to leave. 

Suguru calls your name and you look at him. You feel so bad for him, you can’t express it. It’s tearing your heart out seeing him look so depressed, so utterly destroyed. You reach out and brush your knuckles against his cheek. He closes his eyes and releases a sigh. Leaving featherlight touches against the darkness under his eyes, you say softly, “It wasn’t your fault, Suguru. I hope you know that.”

His eyes shut and you can almost hear the torrential thoughts flooding his brain. Your voice is hushed. You want to be as gentle as possible with the way you speak to him now. He’s like a glass bottle filled with a corrosive, bubbling liquid. It must be handled with the utmost care because the only thing containing the liquid is the bottle. If the bottle breaks, the liquid will spill everywhere. Even if it’s collected from the ground and stored in a tougher container, the microscopic glass shards will be near impossible to separate from the liquid itself. Geto Suguru, is a strong man. But even the strongest material is bound to break; if a stronger force acts upon it, continuously, without giving it time to heal and repair. And once broken, Geto Suguru will always have those shards lodged inside his soul.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

He looks at you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You drop your hand as you turn to leave him with Haibara. “I’ll see you, Suguru. Best of luck on your mission, Haibara.” 

Haibara gives you a bright smile with eyes turned into little moons. “Thank you senpai! I’ll bring back souvenirs for you all!” 

You return his smile and send him a thanks and a wave as you look at Suguru, gaze not being reciprocated. You only see his dark ebony hair covering his face as he stares at the ground, unmoving; distant.

The moment your back turns to them, the smile drops from your face and your eyes fill with tears.

---

You found out about Suguru from Yaga-sensei. Apparently, he had killed his parents and 112 non-sorcerers. Geto Suguru was now a criminal and exiled from the Jujutsu community. The Suguru you last met near the vending machines before he embarked on his new path; before Haibara’s death. 

Now you’re lying in bed, marinading in your sadness, thinking about how everything went to shit so fast. Haibara died and Suguru was as good as dead. Nanami was broken. You don't know where Satoru is but wherever he is, he's definitely not okay.

You’d heard Satoru had met Suguru from Shoko, considering she met him before Satoru did. And Shoko. Shoko shut herself off, acting as if everything was fine. She keeps conversations short and drowns herself in her studies and her work. Things will never be the same again. 

You feel conflicted. Did my words tick him off? Could I have said something better? Am I a terrible friend? Maybe if I find him now I can talk to him and be by his side, but he’s not the same Suguru I once knew. He didn’t seek me out. Why didn’t he come to meet me? Does he hate me? Does Satoru know I spoke to him before he did what he did? Does Satoru hate me? Will Shoko ever be the same again? No, of course, she won’t. None of us will ever be the same again. It’s all broken. Everything went to shit. 

There’s knocking on your door. You glance at the alarm clock on your side table. 2:30 am it blinks, in an angry red light that hurts your eyes. You sit up on your bed as you contemplate whether to open the door or ignore it. You can feel the cursed energy of the person pulsing behind the door. They knock again. You get up and open the door to see one Gojo Satoru leaning against the doorframe with his sunglasses on and shoulders drooped. His stance is unguarded, tired, and face sullen. 

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” he looks apologetic as he opens his sunglasses and puts them in his pocket. His once crystal blue eyes are now a muted blue with dark purple circles underneath them. 

You silently shake your head, opening the door further and walking deeper into the room hoping he’d follow. He does, as he shuts the door behind him. You sit on the foot of your bed as he drags his feet next to you and falls on his back with his long legs dangling off the edge. 

He closes his eyes and opens them, then closes them again. You look at him wondering what to say. As nothing comes to your mind you simply decide to lie down next to him and stare up at the ceiling. You both stay like that for what seems like a long time, soaking in each other’s presence as if it might be stolen from you both within moments.

“You know…I met him. We spoke and he told me I should kill him if I wanted to. I was about to but then I couldn’t do it,” his voice is so small, almost trembling. He’s breathing heavily, the silence in the room when he’s not speaking is so loud you can almost hear his heart beating.

You turn your head to see him staring up at the ceiling. He breathes your name.

“I just… couldn’t do it,” he releases a shaky breath, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Maybe I should have. Maybe because I didn’t kill him, a lot more people will-” he chokes.

Your heart hurts seeing him like this. The pain you were trying to control floods your senses and nothing feels real anymore. You wish it was a nightmare, that once you wake up everything would be fine. Suguru would still be here, his parents still alive, Satoru being his usual childlike self, Shoko with her hilarious little remarks, Haibara filling the room with his larger-than-life presence and laugh, Nanami emo as ever but still with you all. Riko still alive. But the more you try to force yourself to wake up you realize you’re fully awake already. This isn’t a nightmare; it’s real. This is your life.

“Of course you couldn’t, Satoru. I mean it’s Su-“ you cut yourself off with a shaky exhale. “All of this is just so-“ your voice breaks as you try to contain the tears. You take a deep breath trying to hold in your hurt. You have to be strong because right now Satoru isn’t. He needs you now more than ever.

“It’s just so unfair,” you say under your breath. 

“I’m supposed to be the strongest. I’m supposed to be the “honored one”. I mean- it was a moment of weakness. I can’t-“ he puts both his hands on his face as he breathes heavily and mutters incoherently. 

“I can’t be weak,” he spits the word as if it’s venom. Poison, tainting his pristine lips. 

“I just- I can’t.”

He mutters your name as he starts heaving and trembling. You immediately sit up and lean over him; your face over his own. 

His eyes blink rapidly as he gulps and tries to take a full breath, ultimately failing. 

You hold his face and look into his eyes. “Satoru, you’re having a panic attack. Look at me, okay? Focus on me.”

He shakes his head, and sniffles, clutching his chest as he continues spiraling. “I can’t- I can’t breathe.”

You grab his clenched hand and hold it against your chest. “Feel me breathe, okay? Look look. Inhale, and exhale. Okay? It’s just us here, alright? Forget everything else.”

Your chest rises and falls in a steady motion as Satoru’s eyes lock onto yours. Trying to match his breathing with yours, his eyes slowly regain focus as his chest stops heaving. His Adam’s apple bobs as he takes deeper breaths. Soon enough, your hearts beat in the same rhythm. 

“There you go. Deep breaths,” you give him a small smile as one hand still holds his against your chest and the other holding the side of his face; thumb caressing his cheek. 

Mouth open and eyes blurry, he gulps as he brings up his free hand to touch your face. His fingers brush over the scar on your right cheek. No one else has ever touched your scar like this. Even you've never traced it with so much love and tenderness. Only Satoru has, and you realize you like that very much. You like the feeling of his fingers on your skin, especially on the part of your body that makes you feel like a complete failure. It scares you, but you can't even think about it now because his fingers are everywhere. They graze your jaw, run through your hair, and trace your nose, before finding their rightful place back over your cheek. His voice is strained and so, so small. “You’re real, right?”

A stubborn stray tear escapes your eye as you give him a watery smile. “Yeah, I’m real, Satoru. I’m real.”

He leans up to rest his forehead against yours as he closes his eyes. Your breaths mix as you feel his silver eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. His wispy bangs tickle your face and you notice his hair has gotten longer. You also notice how he has two indents on each side of the bridge of his nose where his sunglasses spend all their time. He also has the clearest skin you have ever seen anyone have. Your eyes map his face like it's the first time you're seeing him but not the first time you realize that he is so, so beautiful. And your heart almost stops at the realization that you might just be in love with Gojo Satoru.

This is the most intimate you’ve ever been with anyone. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him be and the most vulnerable you’ll ever let yourself be. Your tears don’t seem to stop now, flowing freely, falling onto his rosy cheeks and shirt. He gently wipes them away with his thumb as your foreheads stay pressed together. Hands still intertwined against your heart and thoughts flowing together. 

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re here. I just- I had to see you,” his voice was low, almost a whisper.

Your voice is quiet too and you feel your face getting warm. “Always.”

You both stay like that for a couple minutes, breathing each other in, feeling each other’s heart beat. You feel so guilty for wanting to tell him you love him. You can't do that now. He's upset and lost and you won't put something like this on him right now. So you bury it and just bask in the sound of his breathing.

Once he’s calmed down, you both lie down next to each other, shoulders touching, back to staring at the ceiling. You sniffle and wipe your eyes, feeling the weight on your chest significantly lighten. After a few minutes, his raspy voice breaks the silence.

“He has a son,” He looks at you, “Toji Fushiguro. He has a son. Said his name was Megumi Fushiguro.”

His eyes shift between yours and then travels all over your face. He nibbles on his lips and continues, “Apparently, the kid’s been sold to the Zenin’s, ‘cause of the Ten Shadows Technique he inherited.”

You turn your head to look at him and you know what he's thinking.

“You’re gonna stop the sale?”

Satoru grins, “I'm gonna stop the sale,” He looks up at the ceiling and stretches his arms up. “And, anyways. He’ll be much better off here. Not to mention, his technique is the best thing to come out of his shit family, so win-win.”

“How old is he?”

Satoru shrugs, “6? 7, I guess?”

You look up at the ceiling and wonder. When Satoru speaks again, somehow reading your thoughts, you look at him.

“Will you help me?” He looks at you so longingly, and you don't even need to think about the answer. Your worries are forgotten. All you know is that you both will figure it out.

“Of course, Satoru.”

He releases a small exhale and smiles at you. You return it. You open your mouth to say something but Satoru beats you to it.

“You know, sometimes I wish I was just any regular person. Not the strongest, not a sorcerer. Just some random normie.”

You wish you could give him that. Sometimes you also have thoughts like this. What if you were just a regular person? No powers, no clue about curses, no idea about weapons or cursed techniques. A regular life, a regular family. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Satoru hums as he brushes his knuckles against yours. You let your wishful thinking get the better of you. 

“Hey. What if we run away?”

Satoru looks at you with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. You look back at him with a half smile, because you know you would. You would run away with him if he wanted to. Of course, you’d ask Shoko to join the both of you as well. But you imagine going somewhere tropical maybe. Somewhere small, a place with a beach preferably so you could watch Satoru prance around in the water and build sandcastles, only for you or Shoko to go and stomp all over it. And then you’d watch him throw a hissy fit and pout about it for the rest of his life. You’d watch the sun set over the ocean every single day without a worry in the world. Maybe you could be there till you’re old and wrinkled. Living to 80, dying in your bed wrapped in blankets and the people you love - a dream. A place where you’re nobodies. A place where Satoru could finally be free. You’d leave everything behind to have that with him. Not like you have much to leave behind anyways. But you would. 

Satoru laughs softly, almost under his breath.

“You know what?”

Your eyes are observing his every expression; you stare at his porcelain skin and sharp jaw, eyes staring up at the ceiling and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He looks at you with his glittering sapphire eyes and bitten-bloodied pink lips stretched into a real smile. You look at the small dimple on the side of his right cheek and you think, just for tonight, maybe the weight on his chest feels lighter too. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

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

part 3

a/n: HAH YOU THOUGHT THEY'D KISS? nope, still hopelessly pining lolol. but we’ll get there, bear with me :’)

tagged: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite

[theemporium]

lovelovelove your writing so much!! could i request Remus with bestie reader and she finds out all their other friends know he's a werewolf but no one told her (obvi she knows deep down bcus she's not blind or stupid xd) and just angst and reader being upset and mad and ignoring everyone

thank you!!! and thank you for requesting!🖤

part two

.

You weren’t mad that he kept it a secret.

You knew how the world viewed werewolves. You knew the stigma and stereotypes that were whispered about them. You knew even in the school curriculum, they were talked down upon and viewed as lower than witches and wizards. You didn’t agree with any of it, but the simple fact was that the Wizarding World didn’t want to accept werewolves as a part of their society.

So, it wasn’t a surprise to you that Remus decided to keep his secret hidden, and you respected it. 

You even made a point of trying to help him out when you could, even if he didn’t ask. You made sure to talk a little softer the days after a full moon. You would try to be wary that if he snapped the days before, it was the wolf and not him so you wouldn’t get too upset about the matter. You would cover for him when other people questioned his disappearance.

You did it because Remus Lupin was your best friend and you loved him, and you respected his secret. 

But that didn’t mean it hurt like a fucking bitch when you realised Remus told everyone his secret, he had confided in his friends for help, all except you.

It was a bitter realisation, like a slap in the face you weren’t quite expecting and it hurt a lot more than you cared to admit. It wasn’t even the fact he told them, it was the sheer principle that he trusted them to tell him, he wanted their help, he wanted them by his side—not you. That was what hurt the most.

You weren’t proud to admit that your reaction was quite childish, but you couldn’t stand to be in a room with Remus and the others, let alone talk to them which led to the cold shoulder you had been giving them. 

At first, Remus assumed you just wanted to spend breakfast with some other friends at another table, so he didn’t think much into it even if he wished you were in your usual spot beside him. But then classes started, and you made a point of switching seats with someone in every single one so you were on the other side of the room. Then, before he could even reach your desk, you would be out the door in a dash.

Remus knew you were ignoring him and it hurt. It hurt that he was losing his best friend.

He thought it was just him you were avoiding, but later that night when he was sat with the others, they had all confessed they had experienced the same behaviour with you over the last few days. 

“She completely blanked me in the corridor,” James said with a frown. 

“And she missed out on our study group,” Lily chimed in.

“I heard she’s been hanging around Regulus and his group,” Sirius confessed, and that reveal alone caused the group to pause. You were by no means enemies with the younger Black brother, but they hadn’t realised you were all that close either.

“So, what? She’s just replacing us?” Marlene asked, but none of them had an answer. Remus wasn’t even sure he wanted to hear the answer. 

It wasn’t until over a week later when Remus finally got a hold of you. It wasn’t his proudest moment to have all but cornered you in the library, but this was the closest he had gotten to you in almost two weeks and he wasn’t going to let the chance slip through his fingers. 

“Why are you ignoring us?” 

No response.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

But you still didn’t respond, instead trying to push your way past him towards the aisle you were heading towards before the boy intercepted your way. However, Remus moved quicker, now standing directly in front of you with his hands on your shoulders, but you quickly stepped away.

“Don’t touch me,” you stated simply.

A look of hurt flashed across his face. “Love—”

“No,” you seethed, the rage and anger and hurt you had been bottling up for the last few weeks now tipping over the edge. “No, you don’t get to ‘love’ me after everything you’ve done.”

“And what have I done?” Remus asked, exasperated. 

You hated that your hands were shaking as you pressed a pointed finger against his chest. You hated that you could feel tears welling in your eyes. You hated that a part of you missed him despite the anger coursing through your veins. 

“I thought we meant more than that, I thought we trusted each other,” you said to him, shaking your head. “Clearly, I was just an idiot for thinking that.”

Remus shook his head. “Of course I trust—”

“You told everyone,” you whisper-yelled, keeping your voice low enough so only he could hear you. “You told everyone your secret but me. You trusted everyone but me.”

The boy froze, taking in the words you had just said. His face paled and you tried to use the moments of shock to push past him, but the action of your shoulder nudging against his snapped him out of his trance. His hand reached out to grip your wrist, a pleading look on his face.

“I just wanted to protect you,” he said but the words fell short.

“And how did that turn out for you?” you retorted, pulling your hand out of his grasp before you left him standing in the library, dumbfounded and guilty as he realised he had just potentially lost his best friend, the one person that meant more to him than anyone else.

.

[sassenach082]

i'm curious: since mav is bradley's legal guardian (permanent, I assume) does that mean he's probably on shore assignments (or top gun, i guess) for the majority of his naval career instead of what he does in the original canon (quits top gun, never goes back to teach after that first time, presumably is on deployment a lot before he gets in trouble for something and gets put in the test pilot program?) that's an interesting prospect to me since it seems similar to a lot of pre-tgm fic, where mav just... like, stayed at top gun after '86, and never left, but obvi in most of that, he didn't have a kid to take care of. i mean, things probably change a lot after bradley... maybe cuts ties in the 00s?? if the pulling papers things still happens, but with all the family support and no mention of carole ever explicitly telling mav in the beginning about not letting bradley fly, i'm also curious how that plays out too since it's also probably v canon-divergent. and also — how do u think ice's career trajectory goes? ive seen many takes on how he got to compacflt lol

Hey nonnie! Whew, buckle up, I have a lot of thoughts.

They're going to be at Top Gun for a while, but they won't be staying there. Ice will come back later on, but Mav will be doing other things. This is going to be long and rambly so if you want to read (and aren't bothered by vague spoilers) more under the cut!

With wars coming up they're going to be shifted around back to active duty flying, particularly in Desert Storm. Mav figures out a way to make it work but he refuses to let Ice go without him, and Bradley gets it because he's a military kid. They also aren't going to always be together; actually, they spend quite a few years apart, which is going to hurt my heart to write.

They try to stick to the West Coast. I don't know how much you know about the Navy, but the two main hubs are San Diego and Norfolk, Virginia. In real life they shifted Top Gun out to Fallon, Nevada, but since in the canon of the movie it's still in Fightertown it will be staying there. Most Naval Aviators on the west coast are actually stationed at Lemoore, a base in the middle of California which is a bit of a shithole if my cousin Jay is to be believed, lol, while the east coast aviator hub is Oceania, Virginia. Aviators go through cycles of on a ship, leaving a ship, and then into fleet replacement training to go back on a ship. As soon as my cousin the aviator gets a good night sleep I'm going to pick his brain more about it. If anyone reading this is an aviator or knows one hit me up! I adore my cousin but talking is not his superpower. I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS.

Anyway to answer your question it's going to be a bit roundabout. IRL you have to have a plan for your dependents in case of deployment and Mav gets it figured out with Ice's help as for who will watch Bradley which will be a whole other can of worms but I don't think Mav or Ice are the type to watch their friends go off to war without them. I haven't fleshed it all the way out but Mav is going to CHOOSE the test pilot path, mostly because it keeps him close to Bradley, and he's going to be doing some special ops shit because in my brain that's literally the only reason the kids in the movie have no fucking clue who he is even though they've all been to Top Gun and walked past his picture EVERY DAY in the atrium, haha.

He's still Mav so yes he will still be pissing off Admirals.

As for Ice, I haven't figured out exactly how I want to get him there I'm still doing research. I do know that they have to command ships so at some point he'll get a carrier most likely because he's Ice and who the hell better to hand a carrier to, in my opinion. He leaves the sky fairly early in his career if you look at the whole span of it, partly because flying is something he loves but doesn't define him like it does for Mav, and this way he can keep Mav up there doing what he loves while he also gets to climb the ladder. It's a lot of politics which I hate so I'll be grumpy about having to research all that shit but I mean COME ON, it's Ice. Of course he gets a fucking Fleet. I also headcanon that the Joint Chiefs are beating his door down and he's just like that Obama eye meme saying THEN PERISH because he likes being able to go to the ocean to escape them.

Anyway back to the Navy, not sure if you or anyone who is into Top Gun knows this, but Ice is quite literally AS HIGH as you can go in the Navy. There hasn't been a Fleet Admiral (with the five stars) since Nimitz died in '66 and has only ever been held by four dudes: William Leahy, Ernest King, Chester Nimitz, and William Halsey Jr. (names you may recognize if you know your WWII Naval history but I digress). So basically four-star Admiral is IT, like that is the top of the ladder, unless you get asked to join the Joint Chiefs of Staff and work directly with the president. Tom likes to be in charge of things so I think the Joint Chiefs would be hard for him - they have no direct control over the Navy at all and it's a desk job in Washington D.C.

Maybe one day he could become the Secretary of the Navy, but I don't know if I can see Tom doing that, tbh. They have to be 5 years removed from military service at minimum. So I dunno. Still up in the air as far as Tom! Right at this moment he's being an asshole on an aircraft carrier in 1987, so there's that.

[petruchio]

PLEASE share your midnights Matty softlaunch theory, it’s such an odd and (to me at least lol) fascinating album

ok so. im going to go into insane detail track by track, but i think midnights makes sense (almost) if we read it as a journey through deciding to leave joe and we read mastermind as being a matty song — so the album is mostly her wondering if this thing she feels with matty is real or in her head, and then wondering, if it is real, if it’s worth it to make the jump. and i think she was ready to do it, and midnights would’ve been basically the matty “announcement,” but then she and joe made up and the 3am tracks are kind of damage control to confuse the narrative and make it less obvious. but we have to do a bit of digging. so let’s dive in.

(obvi we don’t know what happened for real. but it’s just fun to speculate!!!)

we open with lavender haze. and here we see taylor desperate to stay in the happy, peaceful relationship she’s in — she doesn’t WANT to get married, she doesn’t WANT to be talked about, she doesn’t WANT anything more. she just wants this. it’s enough for her. …or is it?

because immediately, we move to maroon. we go from a pastel purple color to various shades of red, changing the image and flipping back through memories. and these memories call back to a lot of 1989 era imagery — we get the wine stain from clean, the rosy cheeks from wildest dreams, new york… that’s a real fucking legacy to leave. something triggered this little trip down memory lane. maybe they hung out, or someone said something, who knows. but i think this is where the cracks in the lavender haze begin.

and so after all that she takes us to anti-hero. it’s me, hi, i’m the problem. i think this is probably the precursor to guilty as sin? — it’s saying, oh no. i’m the problem, fantasizing about my ex again (i dream of cracking locks, throwing my life to the wolves/i wake up screaming from dreaming) and acknowledges that joe is going to leave her when he finds out (one day i‘ll watch as you’re leaving)

but she can’t stop. the fantasy continues to grow in snow on the beach. this song is filled a bunch of space/sky imagery — “a few moons ago,” “stars by the pocketful,” “your eyes are flying saucers from another planet.” let’s keep track of that imagery. (we’ll return to the all space stuff in a big way in down bad, but don’t worry, it’ll reappear on midnights.)

and then there’s the realization of you’re on your own kid. that’s right — you’re on your own, and you always have been. i think this is her deciding to separate her sense of identity from joe. and the first verse brings up a lot of images we see come back on ttpd: “summer went away, still the yearning stays” -> “another summer/rolling thunder/he don’t understand me” and “it’s okay we’re the best of friends” -> “but tell me who else is gonna know you?” and “you’re smoking with your boys” -> “you needed drugs more.” it’s tempting to interpret the first verse as a retrospective on her teenage years, but it could just as easily be about falling for matty while they were “just friends” and she was still with joe. but i think in yoyok she’s still trying to convince herself it’s not real: “just to learn that you never cared.” matty doesn’t want her, she thinks. but she has her songs. maybe that’s all she ever needed?

this triggers an even larger dive into the past: midnight rain. now she’s wondering if the reason she’s so resistant to marry joe is just a repeat of old patterns, so she dives into the past looking for answers. i maintain that midnight rain is about the muse of debut and i think it’s her looking over her own past and trying to make sense of what’s happening now. am i the problem? was i always the problem? am i incapable of marriage or is it just with this guy?

so now she has to know. she has to get answers. is this fantasy about matty her just replaying old patterns of leaving when things get serious? or is this thing she feels with matty something real? basically, can i ask you a question…? we don’t even need to dive any deeper into the 1989 era of it all. this song is pretty obvious. note that we return to the space imagery though: “does it feel like everything is just like second best after that meteor strike?”

i don’t feel like talking about vigilante shit because it’s a bad song but suffice to say i think it’s just her being admitting she’s okay sometimes being the villain. other than that it’s not really relevant to the matty narrative.

so then we get bejeweled. which was strange when it came out and hasn’t gotten less strange, but it’s kind of another step in deciding to leave joe behind. she can’t marry him, because she’s not sure matty isn’t actually the one for her. “when i meet the band, they ask do you have a man, i can still say i don’t.” is the band… perhaps… the 1975? and this is when she leaves. “what’s a girl gonna do? a diamond’s gotta shine.” she sets herself free. you can try to change her mind, but you can’t. she polished up real nice.

and then we get labyrinth. which to me only makes sense as a post-joe song. “it only hurts this much right now.” “i’ll be getting over you my whole life.” “break up break free break through break down.” but what saves her? the person who comes in right at the last second: matty. he turns the plane around. remember all the space imagery? my flight was awful thanks for asking? well, here he is. uh oh, i’m falling in love again.

and actually… she loves it. it feels like karma. (or maybe destiny.) for all her work, all her struggle, all her pain, she gets the guy in the end: the years of pining and coded songs all add up to this.

but she can’t hate joe. she could never hate him. she might have wanted to leave, but it wasn’t because he treated her badly. he never wanted anything from her. just sweet nothing. i don’t think sweet nothing is a breakup song; it was probably even written as a love song. but its placement on the tracklist makes it feel like a goodbye. “they said the end is coming,” she says. but she needed someone who saw her that way. it’s an i will always love you song. it’s a thank you.

and so we close: mastermind. the planets and all the stars aligned from snow on the beach and question. we’re up in space now. she’s been planting these seeds since back in 2014… and now she has him. matty. she did it. all the wisest women had to do it this way. doesn’t that sound like fucking politics and gender roles? the liquor in the cocktails that she’s always drunk on when she’s around him? but he knew the entire time. she’s a mastermind.

okay so that’s the standard edition. the bonus track being hits different makes sense if it’s the joe breakup — “it hits different this time.” she’s left people before, but never like this. she’s SAD! she’s waiting for his key in the door but it never comes. she might have been the one that left, but it still hurt like never before.

but the 3am tracks are the last bit of the puzzle. and here’s where i think we can take taylor’s word for them as sort of “vault tracks” because they don’t fit in the narrative of midnights, but they tell a story in themselves. and that story is of her and joe getting back together after all this.

the first one she tacks on is the great war, a song about making up after a fight. so she puts that one to first, to reassure that they actually made it through. then i think we get the “cutting room floor” tracks — that is, they’re out of order but all part of the larger story. we get another heartwrenching goodbye in bigger than the whole sky, a return to the delusional lavender haze and staring at the ceiling in paris, a song about cheating in high infidelity. all thematically relevant, but not perfectly fitting into the narrative of the original record.

then we get glitch, which imo is also a matty song. “depending on what kind of situationship im in” read: if joe and i are off or on. “2190 days of our love blackout” read: six years since the 1989 era where they dated originally. “nights are so starry” brings us back to the space imagery, the glitch video on spotify glitching to the 1989 tv of wildest dreams… “it must be counterfeit” will come back too, in loml when she says “something counterfeit is dead.” but here… it’s only getting started.

would’ve could’ve should’ve again sees her examining her patterns with toxic men, and begins a lot of the religious theming we’ll see return on ttpd. and then we close with dear reader, a song about self-loathing, and begging the listener not to take her advice because she’s not really a good person. she admits it: she cheats, she lies, joe has left her alone in the house (not a home, cause nobody’s there.) “you should find another guiding light,” she tells us. but she shines so bright…

anyway yeah. that’s my extended theory. i think it was supposed to be the goodbye to joe and mastermind was introducing matty, but then when they patched it up, the narrative changed and 3am tracks got added on and changed the direction. (it makes sense if those tracks were added on late, since they weren’t available physically for a long time after the record was released. hits different, the song about breaking up with a long term partner… was.) we could deep dive into every song and analyze the lyrical parallels with 1989, folkmore, and ttpd too (don’t get me started on the 1 and cardigan) but we’ll save that for another time.

and of course, we all know what happened next. but we wouldn’t be here without the chaos that was midnights. without it, we might never have gotten an answer to that one, burning question…?

now we have the answer. the only thing that’s left… is the manuscript.

[thithesandofferings]

Oh no oh geez i’m nervous 3:

I might have liked the DBZ Yandere post of yours more than I expected to. Any uuuh crazy chance I could ask for some headcanons for a Yandere Raditz? 👉🏾👈🏾 🥺

I know he’s not big for a lot of people though so if you’d rather maybe headcanons for a yandere Cell (any form)?

Also thanks sooo much for offering writings for poc readers!! So few people do so i tend to cling to y’all that do 😭

Ohohoho i'd loved to do Raditz- i just love big and mean men unf. Which means- I gotta do Cell too obvi. ALSO!! Never be too nervous to come hang out! I love interacting and getting ideas from other. Y e s poc characters need love too

Lets all heathenize together

Yandere DBZ Crew Original Post

@emmacornell

Tags: NSFW 18+ (there was no way I was making this SFW lol.) Yandere themes. Peeping tom Cell. Noncon to dubious. Raditz being reluctantly hot for you. D/s themes.

Raditz- Of course you like him? Why wouldnt you? No he's not gonna admit that he notices you. That's beneath him. And he'd rather you be beneath him. Taking it like a good little human yea? And maybe he's a little overprotective over you. Shutting you out from your family. Isolating you for days on end- he only wants you to see him. There may have been a little torture, but you really really enjoyed. You clenched down on him over and over again in those moments. He may or may not have killed a few of his generals… But how can he not be when sometimes you like to run. He's really been considering a leash and collar for you. Doesn't like that you're completely nonplussed by him, by what he can do. That little giggle as you skip away from him has him growling in annoyance. No, you wont be coming for awhile. No matter how you beg, maybe its time for a gag too. He's been told that he's been too soft with you. And he begrudgingly can admit that. He just gets so hard when you open your mouth unprompted and takes everything he gives. Smiling with glee when he slaps you lightly and tells you to swallow. Wont admit it, but loves how pouty you get when you cant sit warm his cock on the way to another planet. He wont admit that you'd be the reason he doesn't finish that mission. But would rather finish inside of you. You don't seem to mind that he's a bad person. That seems to excite you more. Making sure you're on his lap as soon as he's home, no matter how much blood he has on him. Grinding on his lap and begging him to take what's his. And who is he to deny such a delicious little morsel like you.

Cell- Did NOT think he would have to bother with constant thoughts of you. You, measly human, who he saw on Earth in happenstance. Doesn't think twice about you or your worth, until you bump into him. He wouldn't care- would automatically think "food" had you not touched him and looked him in the eyes to say sorry. He, perfect Cell, would never stand to be touched by someone as low as you, but his mind betrays him, thinking of how good you'd look below him. Apologizing while looking up at him when his cock is too much to bare. He can already feel the slick starting to pull from his length and he has to shove past you because he has a mission. That doesn't stop him from watching you, following you, everyday after his mission is done. He's so angry at himself to be so enamored with you. Fucks his fist fast and hard when he's staring at you through your window. Him only getting slicker when you gasp in fear of seeing him. Your scream makes him come so hard he almost blacks out. You're looking behind your shoulder everyday now, whimpering when you see a glimpse of him. He wants you to make that noise against him, while taking him deep. Its his lucky day when he sees you go into an alley alone. Silly human, he'll make sure you know why that led you to your current fate. He's so much bigger than you, holding you up with ease as he fucks slowly in and out of you. He wants you to feel every inch. Feel the power he has over you. He's breaking your mind as well as your body. Dragging his heated length through your slick walls, groaning and biting into your shoulder. You feel so good he never wants to leave your hole. Your tears have changed over time from fear to pleasure. He can tell and that makes him rut against you just a little harder. So willing to please now. Saying you want more- ah you're so greedy for it. For him. With a little hiccup and moan that makes you tighten around his length, you bring him closer, shoving his face into your shoulder- he knows he cant let you go after this. Knows he has to breed you before anyone else does. No ones allowed to touch what is his.

[soleilnomoon]

hiiii!! first of all I hope you’re doing good and resting a lot! secondly I adore your writings, your style is so good and since I love reading whatever your write I wanted to request a Zoro x F!reader (if you feel comfortable!) where the reader is part of the crew and beside being a great fighter is an exceptional singer, and Zoro has always had a soft spot for her but lately that has blossomed into a gut wrenching crush (reciprocated unbeknownst to him) and he’s particularly obsessed with her voice, believing she sounds like an angel, his mind tho wanders and sometimes thinks about less pure things, like how that voice would sound in a very different context, so one night after she sang for the crew before bed he just can’t stop himself and kisses her and the tension among them explodes, it’s your choice to decide how much NSFW you want to include, I will love it regardless. have a wonderful day 🫶🏻

hi angel ♡૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა♡ i am definitely trying to rest haha, thank you; make sure you're resting too! i also hope you're doing well 💕 i am so happy you enjoy my writing, and i also liked this request a lot so thank you! i tried not to make it too long, but it's zoro, yk, he's a mess.

2.5k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; there's fluff if you consider zoro not choking her as fluff, a tiny bit of angst, and smut obvy; feat. fingering, oral (m receiving), alcohol, fun stuff like mutual pining and whatnot; reader is a singer in this fic; my islander roots are showing, i wrote abt the heat again.

the air is stale, unbearable — the humidity absolutely infuriating, turning your skin sticky. when your crew stumbled upon the abandoned village, you never imagined the heat to trap you like this. normally, you can tolerate it, but for some reason you just can’t right now. you fan yourself tirelessly, waiting alongside nami and chopper as the others go to fetch water. 

your companions complain about the heat, both equally as miserable as you are, even as you sit in an empty house, away from any direct contact from the sun. you know you should preserve your energy, but a distraction might be what you all need. 

with your eyes closed, you steady your breath, the corners of your lips curling upward as you start to sing. it’s nothing complicated, the words are simple, a little melancholic — something you’ve hummed to yourself over the past few days — but it forces nami to scoot closer, and chopper to hop onto your lap to listen better. the dryness in your throat turns your pitch a little lower, tone raspier; your voice echoes around the room, tumbling out of the open windows, whirling around the street.

what should have been a fifteen minute trip, turns into a thirty minute one when luffy accidentally drops most of the water they collected — since he insisted on carrying it. zoro knew it was a bad idea, but he was so determined to get back that he hadn’t thought it through carefully. he waves off luffy’s half-assed apologies, walking back with the rest of the crew, senses sharp even as he jokes around with them. as they approach the village, your voice finds him first — curls delicately around his throat, choking him harder with each step he takes. 

maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the fact that missed the initial part of your performance, but rather than head inside of the house like the others, he hovers by the open window, opting to listen without the prying eyes of everyone else. he’s always been fond — more than fond, actually — of your singing, much more than he’s ever openly admitted. the vulnerability that accompanies that sort of confession is wholly too intimate for him; so he swallows down the urge, lets it fester until he can’t handle it anymore.

he’s at his breaking point and knows that somehow he’ll need to find a way to remedy this before it gets out of hand.

you open your eyes and smile sheepishly when your crew mates give you a round of applause; their words of encouragement warm you significantly, and when they pass around the water, you take a healthy sip from your glass.

perceptive as ever, you notice zoro’s absence, but have a feeling that he’s not too far away. from all the time you’ve spent with your crew mates, you’ve more or less become in tune with them. and it could be that the way you feel about zoro is much different than the way you feel about the others, but you’re acutely aware of his presence even when you don’t see him right away. so when he finally does make it inside, no amount of water can properly cool you off.

your crew mates chatter around you, their voices practically background noise as you sip more of the water. after placing the jug down, zoro lifts his shirt and uses it to wipe his face, hating the way the climate of the island has them sequestered for a bit. your grip loosens and the glass slips from your hand, shattering on the hard floor on impact, water splashing on your sandaled feet. he looks over at you, frowning at your clumsiness — it’s not like you, and while robin and sanji help you take care of the shards of glass, you try your best to not let your mushy thoughts add to your misery.

swallowing hard, you wave away the thought that made you drop the glass in the first place; and if zoro were to ask you what happened, you’d openly blame him. it was the way he boldly had his abs on display, without a care in the world, as you did your best to quench the heat that spread through you. in hindsight, you really should have looked away, spared yourself the embarrassment, and just let your imagination do its job. but no. you were curious, and more than that, hopeful.

for what exactly, you don’t know.

the rest of the afternoon is spent in leisure; you all explore another area of the island, combing through the vegetation and gathering any edible vegetables and fruits and carrying them back to the ship that’s docked on the coast. because luffy is insistent, sanji prepares dinner on the beach — which leads to a bonfire, which leads to a small party of sorts. it lasts a few hours, and you all pile back onto the sunny, sleepy and content. it’s brook who encourages you to sing another song, opting to bring out a guitar to accompany you.

silence descends on the deck as you sing another song for them — something sweet and light, but still manages to captivate them all the same. zoro included. he hangs on to every note, every change in pitch and tone, can tell that after spending the day in the heat, your voice is much breathier — sultry, even. he reminds himself that there’s nothing inherently sexual about the way you sing, but he thinks about what it would be like to hear you hit the same kinds of notes, in a more private, intimate setting. 

the thoughts plague him as you continue singing, so much that he paces a bit off to the side, hoping to burn off the excess energy that’s building up inside of him. a few minutes later, you finish the song and your crew mates head off to their respective beds — as if you sang them a lullaby and placed them under your spell. when you look around the deck, zoro is nowhere in sight; you walk around in search of him, and see that a dim light is on in the kitchen. you figure he probably went to get another drink, and since you’re not exactly tired, you decide to join him.

the whiskey burns, but still can’t shake the way your singing haunts him — infiltrating his thoughts at all hours of the day, distracting him even when you fight alongside each other in battle, it’s all very obnoxious and unnecessary. he’s so enmeshed in his pity-party, that he hardly notices your presence until your arm touches his. 

“you’re getting better at that,” he says cheekily before pouring another glass of whiskey.

it’s not often that zoro compliments people, so you take his words seriously and cherish them. “thanks, i learn from the best.” best meaning him, obviously. not one to care about having his ego stroked by simple, sentimental statements, for some reason he’s taken aback by your words. he doesn’t even fight you when you pluck the glass out of his hand and drink deeply from it, savoring the taste of the drink, sparking a different kind of heat that envelopes you entirely.

the way he looks at you makes you finish the drink quickly, enjoying the burn and the way it brings a light dizziness over you. after learning your lesson from earlier, you place the empty glass on the counter away from your clumsy hands and scatterbrained thoughts. zoro’s eye tracks your movements, watches the way you keep playing with your hair, a nervous habit that you can’t seem to break no matter how many times you try. several words rush up the back of your throat, ready to spill and stomp all over any residual silence in the room, but, as usual, zoro acts on instinct.

he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip — once, then twice — a maddening effect that depletes all of your self-preservation.

your lips part just as he kisses you, something he’s been meaning to do for a long, long time. he’s a selfish bastard, he knows that, but he can’t help but think that you’ll allow him this one moment to be a tiny bit greedy with you. his tongue slips into your mouth candidly, caressing your tongue, a mixture of whiskey and something sweet — a pleasant surprise, one that has him kissing you again. and again. and again. arms wrapped around his neck, you return each of his kisses; ardent and a little impetuous. 

his imagination pales in comparison, clearly; all those nights where he dreamed of holding you, of tasting you in this way — it’s a much more vibrant, impossibly erotic feeling. pressing your body against his, the softness obliterating the rest of his resolve, giving way to the insatiable beast that he keeps chained deep inside of him. you’ve seen glimpses of it before, so it’s unsurprising when his hands roam around, coast along your curves, and grab onto your ass. a small squeal leaves your mouth, as he leaves behind a playful kiss, his lips trailing along your jaw and landing on the side of your neck. your hips roll forward and you feel his hardened length through his pants. 

a switch flips in your head, you work quickly and unfasten his pants, hand wrapping around his thick cock, twisting as you stroke him repeatedly, enjoying the moans that tumble out of his mouth and into yours as he gives you heated tongue kisses. your hand is soft around him — much different than the roughness of his — a welcomed change, one that his him craving more and more of you. it’s you who breaks the kiss again, you who gets on their knees, and you who runs your tongue flat against his cock from the base to the tip. pre-cum spills from his slit, you swipe your tongue at it, enjoying the slightly salty taste before swirling your tongue around the head of his cock.

running a hand down his face, zoro inhales deeply through his nostrils, trying to remember the last time he was this weak against the hands of another. your mouth and tongue make for a dangerous combination, coupled with the whiskey making you bolder than normal, if he’s not careful, he might fall deeper under your spell. which is all as well, he’s got you under his thumb, especially with the way his hips push forward as you open your mouth and make room for his cock. while he respects your talent as an artist, and knows that your throat is important — it’s delicate and hard-working — the way your mouth fits snugly around his girth, the way you seem so eager to take more of him, it has him acting brutish. zoro grabs a fistful of your hair, groaning quietly as he holds you steady and fucks your mouth. 

slackening your jaw, you make sure to keep your teeth away as his cock slides in and out of your mouth with fervor; you can feel your arousal get the best of you as you squeeze your thighs together, your hands grabbing onto his legs to keep from falling over. he manages to shake away some of the lustful haze that took over his mind and pulls his cock out of your mouth; saliva drips down your chin, coats the length of his cock, and you inhale large gulps of air, attempting to regulate your breathing as your heart sputters, making your pulse erratic. he has the decency to look apologetic, even when he yanks you up by the arm, mouth finding yours again, placing a tender kiss against your lips.

before long, you find yourself sitting on top of the counter, shorts tugged off, panties practically in shreds thanks to that brute of a swordsman who happens to be dropping open-mouthed kisses down your throat as his thick fingers plunge in and out of your cunt, your core aching terribly as you buck your hips against his hand, mouth falling open as you moan his name loudly. he’s much too far gone to tell you to keep quiet, and you’re completely in a daze, not bothering with logic as it currently has no place in your life. not when zoro’s fingers scissor inside of you, stretching you appropriately, his tongue flicking against your skin, making your pitch shift again, letting out throaty moans as you beg him to fuck you properly.

because he simply can’t be bothered with teasing you for a prolonged period of time, zoro obliges — for both of your sake — tapping his cock against your pussy; you flinch at the sensation and he chuckles darkly, admiring your patience as he pushes his cock inside of you slowly. you wrap your legs around him, and he takes that as encouragement as he thrusts into you once, burying his cock to the hilt. the way you call out his name is enough to give him a sugar rush; your pussy clenches around him appreciatively, hips knocking against yours, your slick wetness coating the length of his cock. if he was the romantic type, he’d whisper sweet things in your ears, instead of the filthy words that he considers praise — that has you recklessly bucking your hips against his, pussy squelching loudly as his thrusts get harder.

sanji will likely have both of your heads for desecrating his kitchen like that, but zoro is beyond caring, and your thoughts, unfortunately, mirror his. maybe you’ll feel bad about it in the morning, but for now, you’re much too focused on the way he angles his hips to power into you, your toes curling as you cry out, voice hoarse as you chant keep going and don’t stop, don’t you dare stop. so when he bites your bottom lip and slams into you fervently, a flash of white passes over you, momentarily stealing your vision as an orgasm powers through you. he didn’t expect you to fall apart like this, but he’s far from complaining; in fact, he’s overly enjoying himself, and the way your pussy can’t seem to stop squeezing around him, your warm, plush walls pushing him over the edge as his thrusts get faster and his strokes get shorter. 

you bite his neck and that’s all it takes to have him grabbing your hips firmly as he cums unexpectedly, fully unprepared for that level of treachery from you. he should’ve known, though, anyone with a voice that hypnotic is bound to be trouble. cum spills down your thighs, although you’re more preoccupied with catching your breath again to care about the mess. 

if he ever has to confess, he’ll definitely say that you sounded just as lovely as you did when you were singing earlier. but he won’t say that, not now, anyway — because, then he’d have to admit to other things and he’s not quite ready for that yet. instead, he presses his forehead against yours, hoping to just savor this moment a little longer before returning to reality and dealing with his impulsive whims.

[letterstotheflre]

I loved the fic but I’m greedy for more. Please share mermaid!readers dark fantasy 🤲

heheh thank u for spoiling me n asking about this bc i thought too much about it

cw: dark || 18+ only [ft. kidnapping, implied cnc, rape is mentioned once but not referring to eddie, chrissy or reader] || also i apologise i feel like eddie doesn’t sound like eddie sorry :/

mermaid!reader fantasies about a human male kidnapping her are kind of like some of our fantasies about rape n cnc kinks. chrissy knows about them bc you asked her is she ever thought about that once jane (aka eleven) came back. she doesn't have them, but she doesn't judge obvi. n eddie... eddie finds out on accident. kinda like the little argument u guys have in the fic where chrissy mentions it. n he can't let it go bc he takes it as if you're still afraid of him (when in reality you would like it very much if he kidnapped you and chrissy and kept you like toys)

so after much talking and prodding and a few tears from you bc you're so embarrassed about even thinking about those scenarios when some of your mermaid sisters have actually suffered through them, you guys are able to create the ultimate sex scene.

it's a full moon, which means that you and chrissy are finally able to transform into women. but there's a catch— you have to return to the water before the sun rises or you will stay human until the next full moon.

so eddie, with his ship and his crew, sail past the waters where you live and lower their anchor. eddie sells them the story about a magnificent treasure lost in a sunken ship in that very same spot and tells them to lower one of the fishnets to see if they can catch something for dinner.

"we cought something!" one of the crew shouts, struggling to rise the net by himself. the members closest to him run to help him, their groans echoing in the otherwise silent night.

"my god," another one whispers in shock when he sees what they caught. he taps gareth's side, eyes glued forward. "call the captain. tell him he needs to come to the deck immediately."

the crew stands in a circle while they wait for gareth to come back with eddie. and right in the middle of it is you and chrissy, hugging each other under the net and cowering beneath their stares. some of them are fascinated, others hungry with lust.

your scales tingle.

"well, well, well. what do we have here?" you'd recognise that voice anywhere. you sit up a little straighter. eddie pushes to men aside and steps into the circle, not bothering to remove the net. "you're a little far from home, aren't you?"

it's exactly what chrissy said to him the first day you met. you squirm, heart pounding. "let us go."

eddie chuckles and crouches down to your height, face partially illuminated by the moon light. he looks beautiful. he strokes your cheek through one of the holes in the net. "and why would i do that sweetheart? i just caught two beautiful mermaids and, between you and me," he stage whispers, scrunching his nose in that cute way he does and tilting his head to the side, "i have been feeling a little lonely up in this ship with these meatheads. need something to keep me warm at night, if you know what i mean."

you gulp in excitement but all the crew sees is two mermaids cowering in fear.

chrissy squeezes your arm and meekly says, "w-we'll give you treasure, anything, if you—"

"i have the greatest treasure right in front of my eyes, honey. what could possibly be better than the two of you, hm?" he waits for your answers patiently, tapping his shin with his fingers. he grins when neither of you speaks. "that's right; nothing."

that's when he finally takes the net off you, his fingers brushing your tail. the fins at the end flick almost minisculely and eddie's smile grows wider. "oh, we're going to have a lot of fun together." he looks predatory in this light. you know he's nothing of the sort. it makes it even more attractive. "welcome aboard hellfire, little mermaids."

[deceitfuldevil]

Heartbeat

Matt Murdock X Reader

Summary: You were ashamed to admit it, but you still had a distaste for flying. So when you finally convince Matt to take a vacation for your 3-year anniversary, you didn’t fully take into account that you’d have to fly to your romantic destination. But Matt was there for you, before you even realized you needed it.

Warnings: basically just a fluff overload, a few swears, pet names (honey, sweetheart, darling), mentions of a fear of flying (obvi), established relationship, kissing, all that jazz.

Word Count: 1.2K

You were over the moon that you had been able to convince your boyfriend, Matthew-workaholic-Murdock, to take a vacation with you; truly. But you may have not completely thought it through. It’s not that you weren’t grateful, hell it took months of dating just to convince him to take a night off from his daredevil activities. It’s just that you wanted to go somewhere special for your 3 year anniversary, and you couldn’t exactly drive to Paris. Much to your dismay, you had to fly.

When sitting on the couch of your now shared studio apartment, you bought your plane tickets with Matt by your side. He was practically still drowning in your dread that filled the air.

“Okay, we’ve bought the plane tickets now. Why are you still tense?” Matt asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You took a deep sigh, and admitted a buried fear of yours. “I. . . I don't like flying.” you said smally, vaguely ashamed of yourself.

“You don’t like flying? How’d I never find this out after three years of dating you? And didn’t you used to go on trips all the time when you were younger?” Matt questioned, somewhat amused at your distaste for aviation.

“Hey, we’re not officially 3 years until Paris. Also yes, I did travel a lot when I was younger. I used to be a lot worse about flying, I’ve gotten better. It still just makes me. . . anxious.” you confessed, nesteling into Matt’s side.

“Honey I promise you everything is going to be just fine. We’ll sit next to each other the whole time and I’ll be there for you no matter what, alright?” Matt said reassuringly. Running his hand up and down your arm soothingly. You breathed a sigh of contentment, relaxing under his touch.

- two weeks later -

The day of your trip finally came, and you were in line to board the plane. Surprisingly there was more excitement coursing through your veins than nervousness at the moment, but as soon as you found your seats and the plane started to depart from the gate that excitement fizzled out. But Matt was there for you.

A soft hand on your knee, brushing his thumb up and down the inside of your thigh. Then as you started to take off, the worst part for you, he’d held onto your hand and you tightly squeezed his back. Your free hand twitched sporadically as you tried to focus on leveling out your breathing, thankful Matt wasn’t in your ear shoving down words of encouragement like most people would think is helpful. He stayed silent, letting his physical presence do all the comforting. As soon as you’d reached a cruising altitude he’d lean over and give you a quick peck on the cheek, assuring you that everything was alright.

You tended to listen to music when you flew, it was a good distraction. So you didn’t even notice (mostly because you were trying to not pay any attention to your own anxieties) that your heart rate was still consistently high despite the fact you’ve just been sitting for the past 20 minutes since take-off. But Matt noticed, he always does.

Matt smoothly moved up the arm rest in between the two of you and extended his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his rather calm embrace. “We’re safe darling, it’s okay.” He said reassuringly, causing you to face him with a perplexed facial expression.

“I know Matty.” You said, thinking maybe he was the one getting nervous now. Matt looked to his left to see the stranger in the aisle seat already knocked out and then back to you as he whispered “your heartbeat is still very fast sweetheart, I can tell you’re still anxious.” He said in a low whisper.

Not wanting to believe your own body still wasn’t over your fear of flying you held two fingers to your pulse point and counted. Matt kept his arm around you as you realized sure enough your heart was ready to beat its way out of your chest. “So it appears I am…” you said sheepishly, further snuggling into your boyfriend's embrace.

“Why don’t you listen to my heartbeat? Maybe hearing something calm will help.” Matt offered, soothing one of his hands over the back of your head as he ran his fingers through your hair. You nodded in agreement and placed your ear to his chest, sure enough the steady and calm heartbeat thumping along in Matt’s chest was more than enough to soothe your anxieties. Unintentionally, you fell asleep in minutes.

It wasn’t until 7 hours later when Matt was gently nudging you and rubbing the side of your arm that you woke up again. You looked around to see an empty plane and a few swooning airline attendants.

“Hate to burst your bubble but we’ve got to get off the plane now honey.” Matt said with a sweet and soft tone, one of the stewardesses nearly going weak at the knees over the tooth-rottenly cute display of love you two were showing.

“Oh, shit.” You said groggily, quickly grabbing your carry-on and departing from the plane. Matt was right behind you with a huge smile on his face. When you turned to face him at baggage claim to see that smirk still plastered you rolled your eyes at him.

“Something tells me you enjoyed that little nap I took more than me.” You said teasingly, poking at his chest in an accusatorial way.

“And would it be a crime if I did, counselor?” He mocked back, looking cheeky as ever.

“Maybe, but I’ve got a few punishments in mind if you’re willing to serve the time.” You said slyly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Oh sweetheart, that’s what the hotel is for.” He pointed out, leaning down and connecting your lips to his in a loving kiss.

—

A/N

Hey all! This was a totally self indulgent fic as I wrote it shortly after my vacation. . . that I had to fly for. Yeah that’s me, I took trips all the time as a kid. I’ve been on more airlines than I can name. Once when I went to Ireland (8 hour flight) I threw up every, single, hour. But I’ve gotten a lot better about flying, in fact my most recent vacation was my first time flying alone. Now I usually pop a dramamine and listen to some music when I fly, trying to knock out for the majority of the flight. Apparently I’m still not completely over my fear because on my flight home twenty minutes after take-off, much like this story, I got a notification from my watch that my heart rate was consistently over 120 BPM even though I’d been sitting for the past 10 minutes. Anyways I talk too much, but I hope you all enjoyed this fic and thanks for reading!

Much Love,

—Skyler

[storiesofsvu]

A Redemption Earned Ch 20

Heather Dunbar x reader Warnings: some very minor hurt/comfort. heavy on the comfort. Also I'm no longer going to be tagging the language/alcohol or weed shit cause it's all very minor. I WILL tag them if it's excessive or negative situations come out of them though, no worries. Also besties, how are we feeling about the pacing of these updates? Too slow? Too fast? do you find you're having enough time to read it before i post the next one? Obvi sometimes it's out of my control if i don't have it written, i can't post it, but I can alter it a little bit. LMK.

The first four days following new year’s were exactly what you needed, although you would’ve preferred Heather to be there too, you understood her need to work. You spent most of it in bed, taking advantage of the plush bedding to snooze your way through multiple marathons of movies and shows. You indulged in a lot of room service, treated yourself to a nice massage and took advantage of the jacuzzi soaker tub in the suite. It was exactly what you needed to unwind before going back to work yourself.

You checked out a day early, notifying Heather you were doing so, and headed back home. School started again on the sixth and you wanted to make sure you had everything in order, and that your house wasn’t a mess from the pre Christmas vacation days. You spent the majority of the day separating your stuff into your work bag, and that you had everything you wanted for Cody’s welcome package. You did a few loads of laundry, some tidying around the house and started to dismantle the Christmas decorations. You sent a couple of texts off to Heather that her responses were rather short handed, but it was day time, you figured she was at the office, so you let her work in peace.

*

On the other side of Rock Creek Park, Heather was in fact actually gearing up to go back to work herself, even if she wasn’t actually working on an open case. She was simply trying to distract herself from the thoughts floating through her head, trying to focus on the conversation with Rob. She’d ended up sticking around for dinner at his place that night, talking things out at a deeper and simpler level. He walked her through it, helped her understand her own thoughts a little bit more than she was able to on her own. They even spent a bit of time talking about their own past and history, Rob reminding her that he accepted her apology, and had forgiven her for the mistakes that ended their marriage. Now, they were friends and parents, and he assured her they were doing a good job at that.

Even after the talk with Rob she still called her therapist and made an emergency appointment, grumbling slightly when all they had available was six thirty in the evening on the fifth. She made a specific point to stay away from alcohol for the time being, she’d been over indulging over the holidays anyways. Instead of just a glass of wine with dinner, it was a bottle and a half split with you, specialty cocktails at all the parties and who really knew how much champagne on New Year’s Eve. She refocussed her energy, cleaning out her home office, hit up the gym a couple of times and even bundled up to take a couple of walks with Rob and Steve in the mornings.

She was pleasantly surprised when Becca showed up on her doorstep with apology cupcakes and an actual apology for being so riled up at Christmas. Heather didn’t lecture, just accepted the apology and made sure Becca knew she was forgiven. She ended up staying for dinner that night and truly enjoyed spending some one on one time with her mom, it was what she needed right now. A little break from her overcrowded house and a person who had enough life experience to talk her through things. It was an added bonus for Heather to be the one giving the advice, finally feeling like she was back in control for once, that she had things handled. Becca left that night with a couple of good real estate listings, the card for Heather’s realtor, and the promise that her mom would help the girls look for a bigger place if they wanted.

**

The fifth rolled around and you got out of bed far too early, trying to re work your sleep schedule for going back to school. You had your breakfast and far more important coffee before heading to the gym to try and keep yourself awake. After a nice hot shower you got dressed and headed down to the school, letting yourself in to your classroom. Aside from taking down Christmas decorations at home you wanted to get things bright and exciting for the rest of the year in here too. You swapped out Christmas trees and snowmen for bright colours, a few picture collages of students, their little self biographies they’d done just before the holiday. You laid out booklets with a little treat on each desk, making sure yours was stocked with everything you needed before heading home.

You couldn’t lie, you were exhausted already, and the urge to have a nap won over anything else that afternoon. When you woke up you realized you’d kind of snacked your way though the day after breakfast and your stomach was already growling. You had some stuff prepped already, but it was for the week ahead, for lunches so you wouldn’t waste money, and dinners pre portioned out so all you had to do was reheat at the end of the day. You didn’t want to dig into those, and the last thing you wanted to do was cook right now so you opened your phone and flicked through a couple of delivery apps trying to decide on something.

Halfway through ordering you realized what day of the week it was and you quickly checked the TV guide for reference. It was the night that Heather would normally show up at your place, you’d discovered you were both more than obsessed with a certain medical drama, a way to laugh at the ridiculousness and distract you from real life for a bit. You hadn’t missed a night of it airing yet, so you doubled the order you put in for delivery, sighing when it said it was going to take over an hour. You padded back into the kitchen and found some leftover Christmas baking to tide you over until then, pulling out your phone as you did so.

‘I’ve ordered far too many dumplings for tonight; I hope you can manage a break from work.’

You didn’t expect a reply right away, but you also didn’t expect to be met with radio silence. You let out a huff, thinking back to New Year’s Eve, wondering if something went wrong that night causing her to pull away. You couldn’t, but it still left a weight in your gut that maybe you’d said or done something to freak her out. If you hadn’t already ordered the delivery you would’ve picked it up on the way over to her place instead, but you were stuck here for the time being.

Seven rolled around and you still hadn’t heard anything back from Heather, the show was starting and the dumplings were plated up and ready to go. So you let out a small sigh, filling up a glass of wine and tucking yourself into the couch, hoping that she’d pop up through your door any minute.

‘Everything alright? Or are you just this buried in work?’

You didn’t want to blow up her phone so you tossed yours aside and focussed on dinner and the show instead.

Full to the brim you packed up the leftover food during a commercial break, noticing the stove clock you realized it had been a full forty-five minutes, the show was almost over. Your curiosity got the best of you and you wandered back into the living room and picked up your phone. Still nothing. Frowning, you opened the text conversation, making sure the messages had actually been delivered. They were, so you shot off one last one.

‘Heat…are we good? Cause I’ve barely spoken to you since New Year’s and you’re kinda freaking me out right now…’

If she really was too busy or focussed to return your text, you weren’t going to bother with a phone call interrupting her right now. Instead, you dropped down onto the couch with a frown on your face, picking up your wine glass to watch the last ten minutes of your show. The worry was starting to creep through you, wondering if you were in the process of being ghosted after all the work both of you had put into your relationship. You were starting to worry that during one of your tipsier moments over the holiday your true feelings and emotions had slipped out and you’d managed to forget it, that the thought of those words freaked her out. Maybe you’d said something in your sleep? And that’s why she’d actually left the hotel. You had to admit, those thoughts hurt, and you’d always expected better of someone like Heather.

**

Heather got home far later than she’d wanted to that evening, flipping through her mail as she pressed play on the flashing answering machine of her home phone. It wasn’t anything crucial, just Rob seeing if she was free for a family dinner on Sunday, that he couldn’t get a hold of her on her cell. She dug through her purse, realizing she’d turned the device off when she left the office and hadn’t turned it back on after her session. She shot off a quick text to him and scrolled through the rest of her notifications, her heart nearly dropping into her stomach at the messages from you. Without even thinking she immediately turned around and was back out the door in a matter of seconds.

**

Across the park, you were doing the last bit of tidying up, making sure you had lunch portioned out for tomorrow, ready in the fridge. Your dirty dishes made their way into the dishwasher, and you flicked off the light in the kitchen, traipsing through to the living room and repeating the motion in there. You were two steps up the stairs when there was a knock echoing from the front door behind you, you paused, turning back to it, knowing that there was a ninety nine percent chance you knew who was on the other side of it. You hopped down the stairs and padded over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

“I am so sorry.” Heather instantly apologized, “I booked a last minute therapy session and tonight was all they had open, I turned my phone off for it and forgot to turn it back on. I never meant to make you worry.” You could see the slight panic in her eyes, the way she was hovering in the doorway, usure if you would want her to actually come in or not.

“Oh…” you let out a breath, “no, it’s okay, I just… you never miss a night of sexy doctors.” You stepped back, letting her in and the door swung shut behind her. A very quick greeting of a chaste kiss was had, and Heather barely had time to take a breath before she launched into it, she didn’t want to keep secrets from you anymore.

“I lied to you…” Your head shot up, surprise on your face and your crossed your arms over your chest.

“About what?”

“I didn’t have a client, there was no work call on new year’s. I’ve barely even been in the office at all this week.”

“Okay…” Your brow furrowed, almost more confused than before, you leant against the wall, waiting for Heather to explain herself.

“I panicked. When things got kinkier, it felt like I was slipping, regressing, that I was going to come out of there the Heather that I used to be. And that really scared me because the absolute last thing in the world I ever want is for you to have to experience that. You’re too kind, too caring, and absolutely perfect and you never deserve to be treated like that.” Her hand reached out, caressing at your cheek and you leant into it with a gentle hum, “and then I realized that by leaving, by lying, I was probably still hurting you. I was so caught up with making sure I wasn’t slipping that I couldn’t figure out what the lingering feeling in my chest was, I was sitting there thinking it was guilt, or some other bullshit, then Rob helped me realize that I’d forgotten what real love actually feels like.” Your gaze shot up to hers at that, your heart leaping into your throat.

“Is… this your convoluted way of telling me you love me?”

“I…” Heather let out a slightly awkward laugh, “yes. I guess it is.” Her hand squeezed at yours, “I love you. And I know that I’m…complicated, and difficult, and it took one hell of a hard road to get here, and that I can be a stubborn pain in the ass some days”—

“Being a stubborn pain in my ass doesn’t mean I don’t love you too.” You cut her off and it was her turn to be surprised, her eyes widening as she took in the warm smile on your cheeks.

“Really?” She nearly shrunk as she asked and you tried not to frown.

“Yes.” You stepped toward her, pressing a reassuring kiss to her lips, “I love you. Your past may be complicated, but you are not hard to love Heather. In fact, you’re incredibly easy to love, and if you don’t believe that, then I’m just going to have to remind you every single day. I knew I was head over heels, I just wanted to wait for you to catch up before I said anything. I know you’re not always the greatest with words, but you still express yourself in many other ways, even if your thoughts are all tangled up in that pretty head of yours.”

“You are… everything I ever could have asked for.” She replied with a smile, leaning in to kiss you once again, “I don’t know what I was so confused about, I mean, time stands still when I’m with you.”

“You’re too sweet.” You stole a quick kiss before your hands slid from her shoulders down her arms to squeeze at her hands, “and we can talk about the kinky stuff, figure out some boundaries, I mean, if you don’t like it, we can drop the mommy thing.”

“Oh, oh no.” Heather chuckled, her hand coming to pinch gently at your chin, “I like that part very much.”

“I make sure to remember that then.” You grinned, linking your hand in hers, “I was about to head upstairs, I do have to be up early for work, but you’re always welcome to stay.”

“I believe I saw something about dumplings. I’m just now realizing I skipped dinner.”

“Yeah.” You let out a small laugh, “got more than enough time for a couple episodes before I need to sleep.” You pressed a kiss to her cheek, “c’mon.”

The light in the living room got flicked back on, you offered Heather a glass of wine and reheated a plate for her. Nestled into her side you let out a happy sigh, body melting into hers and she laid a tender kiss on the top of your head. After everything, you knew that this was exactly where you wanted to be, and Heather knew it too. Nothing else mattered as long as you had each other, the past couldn’t be fought, just explored, and you were both far more interested in what your future had in store.

__________________

@ms-calhoun @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @giftedchildturns40 @anya-casablanca @svulife-rl  @swimmingstudentchaos891 @alexusonfire @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @svushots @yourtaletotelll @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @imaginaryoperagloves @multifandomlesbianic @annegilletteslostwh0r3 @bookpillows @drduckthief @whimsicallymad @mmmmokdok @ladysc @momlifebehard @mmemalwa @holycrapraewth @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @dead-of-niight @fighterkimburgess @lannister-slings-and-arrows @borg-queer @godard-muse  @itisdoctortoyousir @brooklynmhm @nobody-important1212 @emilyprentiss4life

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[atlabeth]

hey! i love your zuko fics so much and was wondering if you’d like to write this, because the idea just popped up: maybe a zuko x reader fluff that takes place before/during LOK? maybe they’re reminiscing about their past adventures w the Gaang while helping out the new Team Avatar? idk it’s just that every time I see old zuko it makes me soft and emotional 🥲🔥❤️ anyways, much love! (and don’t feel pressured to do this at all, I was just thinking abt who I could submit this request to, and obvi my first choice was you 💕)

reminiscence - zuko x fem!reader

summary: just because you and your husband are retired doesn’t mean you don’t have amazing advice for the new team avatar.

a/n: this is so cute omg!! thank you so much for requesting this and thank you for much for your kind words i'm honored <33 im so sorry this took so long

sorry im posting so much lately im trying to stop slacking and publish things that have been wips for over a month sdkjfh

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): none bc i choose to ignore the news of zaheer’s plan right after this scene

-

Retirement was… nice.

You had spent your childhood fighting with the Avatar to end the Hundred Year War, a feat that was only made more difficult with your Fire Nation roots and connection to the banished prince. But all that’s well ends well, and you ended up getting your happy ending together — you had to fight hard for it, though.

You married Zuko at nineteen, three years after he ascended to the throne, and spent the subsequent years balancing your duties as Fire Lady and taking care of your daughter. Ruling the Fire Nation was a lot, but you knew you could get through anything with your husband at your side.

When he told you his plans to abdicate the throne, you were more than supportive. One of Zuko’s biggest fears was becoming his father, and by giving up his position willingly to Izumi, it guaranteed that he wouldn’t fall victim to the power-obsessed ways of his ancestors. It also gave him a well-deserved break after decades of being Fire Lord, and you were more than ready to get out of the world of Fire Nation politics. You had sat through enough meetings to fill multiple lifetimes.

But just because the two of you weren’t as involved in every day affairs of the world didn’t mean that you were completely out of it. No, that was far from the truth. You and Zuko were still some of the most important people in all of the nations, which meant it wasn’t a rare occurrence for your husband to be called off on some sort of mission.

One such mission was stopping the Order of the Red Lotus for the second time; Zuko had been part of the team that stopped them from kidnapping Avatar Korra as a child, so it was no surprise that he had been called to help for a second time. You knew even in his old age that your husband was powerful, but you couldn’t help but feel concerned about everything he was doing.

This concern was ultimately what led you to join Zuko on his trip to meet with Chief Beifong and Chief Tonraq in the Misty Palms Oasis. He had originally been against your involvement, claiming that the Red Lotus was far too dangerous, and he didn’t want to risk you getting injured in any way. You, of course, weren’t having it. “The Avatar’s in trouble, and I’d like to think I know a few things about getting out of trouble.”

One thing was certain after you arrived — it had been far too long since you had ridden on the back of a dragon. You truly adored Druk, and you felt bad for everyone that would never have the opportunity.

After conversing with Lin and Tonraq inside, you all exited to greet the new Team Avatar. If what you were told was true, then they had been through quite a lot since leaving Zaofu. For as long as you had been involved in foreign affairs, you had never met Avatar Korra nor her friends, so you didn’t know what to expect — an awestruck boy that could barely speak wasn’t at the top of your list though.

“Oh my gosh. It’s Lord Zuko and Lady Y/N. I can’t believe it!” He stared at the two of you with wide eyes, his voice getting higher and higher as he whimpered. He looked like he was going to fall over until another black-haired boy pulled him out of the way, his tone apologetic.

“Uh, forgive my brother,” he said as he put his fist against his open palm, his brother following suit. “We’re just really honored to meet you both.”

“It’s no problem,” you smiled as you and Zuko returned the greeting. It had been years since someone had reacted that way towards you, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t amuse you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

The two boys straightened again as the taller one gestured to them each in turn. “I’m Mako, and this is Bolin. We’re Korra’s friends.”

“Ah, she’s got her own Team Avatar?” You inquired with a twinkle in your eye. “You know, I traveled with Avatar Aang years back along with my husband.”

“Of course I know!” Bolin exclaimed. “Oh, I’ve heard so many stories about your adventures, they’re all so amazing!” His eyes widened and you actually thought that he was going to fall over. “Oh, oh, could you tell us about some of the things you went through?”

“Bolin, we really shouldn’t bother them—” Mako started, but you laughed and waved it off.

“I assure you, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s not often I get to relive my journeys to such avid listeners. What would you like to hear about?”

He thought for a couple seconds then shot back up again. “What was it like when you escaped the Boiling Rock together? You guys were the first people to ever break out, right? That had to be amazing!”

You and Zuko both laughed as you shot him a look. “It was… interesting,” he said.

“By interesting, he means it was a complete disaster,” you corrected. “Everywhere something could’ve gone wrong, it went wrong. They had originally come there to rescue Sokka’s dad, but instead they found Suki and I. Then Zuko got found out and thrown into prison, our first escape plan failed, Sokka almost got found out, Azula showed up… it was honestly a miracle we made it out at all.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” he protested. “Getting thrown into prison was part of the plan, we wouldn’t have been able to get the cooler out if I hadn’t been found out.”

“I guess I can’t complain,” you chuckled. “I did get to punch you a couple times.”

“They are so cool,” Bolin whispered as the two of you went on in the background. He elbowed Mako in the shoulder and gestured towards the couple with his head. “Come on, ask them something! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“I’m not going to ask them something, Bolin—”

“Excuse me, my brother has something he wants to ask too!” Mako shot him a dirty look which quickly disappeared when you and Zuko turned to him attentively.  

“Oh, um…” He coughed and scratched his head. “I guess.. is there any advice you have for us? With this whole Team Avatar thing, I mean.” You smiled at Mako and took Zuko’s hand.

“The friendships you forge during your journey are the most important thing — they’re the things that will keep you going during your darkest moments, and they will last a lifetime. There will be mountains and valleys, ebbs and flows, but no matter what, you will hold an unbreakable bond.”

You felt Zuko squeeze your hand and turned your smile on him as you returned the sentiment then nodded for him to continue. “Never take anything for granted, and trust in fate. You’re where you are for a reason — everything will end up working out in the end.”

You grinned and kissed him on the cheek, humming in agreement. “It did, didn’t it?”

-

After a few more minutes of talking with the two brothers, they went off to join the rest of their group. It was strange being on the outside of it all after how intense your childhood was, but it was… refreshing not to have the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore.

“The world’s in good hands with them,” you murmured as you leaned your head on Zuko’s shoulder.

“They all have that same fire you had when I first met you,” Zuko chuckled. You watched the four of them conversing and a smile graced your lips.

“Oh? Then I think the world’s in very good hands.”

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

[theepisceswriter]

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐄 — 𝐑.𝐁

♡ Pairing: Reiner Braun x AFAB!Reader  ♡ Rating: 18 plus, MDNI! or I’ll gnaw on your ankles like corn  ♡ TW: Smut obvies besties, breeding kink like heavily, nursing mentions, lactation mention, oral (fem recieving), dirty talk, praising, a whole lot ! Also not proofread. ♡ Synopsis: Wedding night sexy and fluff with your breeding kink ridden husband Reiner  ♡ WC: 2.3k

♡ A/N: AHHHH, my first ever collab ! this is for my bby, @saccharine-darling​ ‘s Reiner and Zeke birthday collab. Thank you so much for letting me participate and giving me the experience of being in my very first collab. Congrats on your milestone yet again babes !

The welcoming aroma of lavender and rose candles that omitted a warm, soft glow throughout the dimly lit suite of the newlyweds did very little to help calm the nerves that ran like electricity through your nervous system. 

Every second your fingers ran over the see through coverup nightgown over your lingerie, not even smoothing out wrinkles anymore but giving your so awkwardly placed hands something to do; anything that kept you hidden away in the bathroom for a couple more seconds to compose yourself before you had to be met with Reiner’s hunger filled gaze.

This was nowhere near his first time seeing you naked or the first time he would ravage your body, nor would it be the last, but it was something about the newfound intimacy between you two as husband and wife that made this night especially special, the two of you right back in your honeymoon phase all over again. 

Not that you two had ever really left it. Every day with Reiner was a day you felt loved and appreciated by him and that was only amplified by 100 today. You couldn’t possibly count how many times he glanced over at you with that loving doe look in his eyes that just screamed ‘Finally, you’re my wife.’ And you could’ve sworn that you saw tears slip from his hazel eyes the moment he saw you cladded in your silk white wedding dress, done up the prettiest he had ever seen you, as you walked down the aisle towards him.

He made sure to let everyone know that he was proud of his beautiful bride by holding you close to his side the whole day, arm hardly ever leaving from around your waist and always ready to sing praises about you to whoever would listen.

And now that the two of you were alone he was ready to appreciate you in a different way, the way he knew best.

“Come on, love. There’s no need for you to act all shy around me now,” His voice beckons you from the other side of the door, “I want to see my pretty bride in all her glory.

He lounged on the large California king sized bed situated in the middle of the room with nothing but briefs attached to his body, toned chest prickled slightly with stray blonde hairs that glimmered against the golden light of the lit candles, as he awaited your arrival. Any time spent away whether it was a couple of days or a handful of minutes while you got ready in the bathroom was always excruciating for him to deal with.

With hesitant fingers you twisted at the doorknob until the door opened wide enough for Reiner’s eyes to meet yours with something like a sly smirk painting his features the moment he saw the lace lingerie that hugged your body in all the right places.

It was his words and the expression on his face that gave you enough confidence to step from behind the bathroom door, finally putting your whole body on display for him to see as you made your way over to the bed.

He wastes no time at all, the moment your knees hit the cushioning of the bed he already has his large hands at your waist groping the skin that couldn’t all fit into the restraints of your undergarments and pulling you into his lap, forcing you to straddle his large thighs.

 Immediately his lips find their way on yours, wanting and hungry as he practically devours them with open mouth kisses with the occasional tongue slipping past your lips just to get whatever taste of you he could right now.

His fingers traced the irregular pattern of the lace adorning your skin, continuing the pattern up your abdomen until he reaches the mounds of your breasts where he transitions to a grope, his hand nearly covering every square inch of the skin except for the gaps in between his fingers. 

Breaking away from the kiss with a trail of saliva still connecting you two, hooded darkened hazel eyes looked up at you with nothing short of admiration, “Look at you,” The blonde nearly growled out in a feral tone, “So, so pretty and dressed up just for me. Too bad I’m going to ruin it, hm?”

His words bring flutters to the deepest parts of your abdomen, making the already damp spot that had begun to collect on your underwear accumulate even more. He always had that type of effect on you.

Peeling off the cover up that hid the rest of your body from him, he discarded it on the floor and was quick to do the same with your bra next. The warmth and moistness of his mouth engulfed your nipple and large areola with ease, already knowing exactly where to direct his mouth after doing so plenty of times, before beginning to suckle on it gently as if he were nursing from you while his other hand flicked over your other nipple getting it prepared next.

“That feels so good, Rei.” Your moans only encouraged him on more, his suckling becoming slightly harder and his tongue flicking faster once he moved on to the other nipple. 

“I can’t wait until these are filled to the brim and leaking with milk once you’re carrying our child,” he nuzzles his face between the valley of your breast, sucking on the skin there and leaving a few hickies before motorboating and pulling away completely.

Ruin is exactly what he planned to do with you tonight. In seconds you were being flipped onto your back, not hard enough that it hurt but with enough force to leave you confused and shocked before you realized your positions had been switched. It left him with the perfect opportunity to lean down and rip your panties quite literally off of your lower torso completely, mumbling about how he was going to buy you even prettier ones in the future as he trailed kisses down your legs. Making sure to stop and give extra attention to the areas on the inside of your thigh that he knew would make you squirm up against him.

“Fuck,” Just the sight of your cunt adorned with arousal alone had him ready to cum undone, rough finger pads moving your lips around to observe the beauty that was you. 

“I’m the luckiest man on earth. I must be to have someone as beautiful as you, love.” The words leave his lips in a tone that doesn’t allow it to come off as anything short of a fact because in his heart it was. 

Spreading your legs further apart with the placement of his arms, he allowed a long trail of saliva to escape from between his lips and fall directly over your sensitive bud, sending shivers up your spine, before leaning down and adding on to the mess he created with his saliva by moving his tongue in a way that only accumulated more. It didn’t matter how much you squirmed beneath him or tried to move your hips against his mouth at a pace that wouldn’t have you cumming as fast as he was going to, he wasn’t going to slow down.

His lips isolated directly over your clit and collected all the wetness he could in his mouth as he continued abusing it with pleasure. His face was soaked in your juices at this point and that only made it all the more better for him; Reiner getting just as much pleasure as you the more he made you feel good.

“Oh, fuck baby,” the words left your lips in a broken moan that borderlined a choke and something about the way your husband hummed against your cunt in surprise let you know that he knew you were close as well,

“I know darling, I know. Go ahead and cum all over my tongue like the good girl you are.” 

Removing himself from your cunt with pop, he allowed only those words to be spoken before he went right back to work. Even going the extra mile and slipping two fingers inside of you to give your pussy something to clench around for the meantime. 

And it wasn’t long after that, that your thighs clenched tight around the sides of his head and your fingers found themselves entangled in his blonde locks as you rode your orgasm out on his tongue. Your hips bucking wildly up against his mouth that he gladly left open for you to use and small ‘thank you’s escaping with gasps from your lips.

A kiss to each inner thigh was given before Reiner merely situated his lower torso between your waist instead of his face, gathering your legs from the back of your thighs and pressing them against your chest so you were spread out nice and perfect for him. He didn’t even bother removing his briefs completely, only moving the band around his waist down far enough for this thick cock to come springing out and slap against his stomach. The precum leaking from his pretty peach tip leaving a stain on one of his abs that glistened when he was positioned perfectly in the dim lighting of the room.

He strokes his thumb over his tip with a groan, taking his cock at the base and sliding it through the soaked lips of your cunt. He needed as much lube as he could possibly get. Taking him wasn’t an easy task at all even after you had done it plenty of times; he was huge just by girth alone and he didn’t want to hurt his pretty wife. Especially not the pretty pussy he was going to be stuffing with children in the near future.

Lining himself up with your plush entrance, he groaned with each inch of him that sunk into your inviting walls, moving his hands to the side of your head for leverage as he began snapping his hips up against yours in swift calculated motions he knew would curve up into your most sensitive areas. His eyes never left contact with yours, still holding that loving gaze he had hours before during your ceremony despite how roughly he was thrusting up against you, cock hitting all the right spots.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good baby you have no idea. Such a tight and breedable pussy you have on you.” His fingers tangle with yours and holds them tight as he pounds into you from above, the weight of his meaty body keeping your legs pressed up against your chest, still sensitive from his suckling and biting from earlier. 

And all you could do was take how deep he was going and the feeling of his tip gently pressing against your cervix at a pressure that didn’t quite hurt, but sent a shiver throughout your whole body in response. 

“Fill me up, Rei. I want you to fill me up nice and full.” You finally managed to get out in stutters through his rough pace of fucking, thock cock invading every inch of your insides and wall with a burn that felt too good.

Your words clearly had an effect on him because not only did his cheeks visibly turn red, but you could feel dribbles of precum dripping inside of you. You just had that type of effect on him.

“My pretty little wife wants to be bred like a slut, hm? Then I’ll do exactly that for you, love. I’m gonna fill you to the brim with cum until you have no choice but to take it and get pregnant.” And on cue, hot spurts of cum release deep inside of you with one last stroke. So filled to the brim with cum that even with his dick inside of you acting as a stopper, it still can’t help but trickle down to your asshole.

“Don;t think we’re done yet because we’re nowhere near that.” He huffs into your ear and although you can't see his face, you can just hear the smirk in his tone. “M’not stopping until I know for sure that you’re going to be nice and plump in the next few months.”

[lacharcutiere]

I'm back way sooner than I'd expected, sorry for spamming you with another request! Hcs (separate) again please? Bokuto, Miya twins and Kuroo were teaching their s/o how to play volleyball but midway through the lesson s/o accidentally got distracted by their glorious thighs and asses lmao. After a while the guys realized what's happening when they noticed s/o's stare on them. Thank you very much!

distractions [lil bit pg-13, bokuto kōtarō, miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurō]

tings // sfw but a lil naughty, fluff, canonverse, everyone's at least 18 here :)

hello again & it’s totally cool !! keep spamming lolol i enjoy the interaction !! also omg i love the idea because i myself have thiccy thighs :) i feel like this got a little repetitive because i kinda ran out of ideas but anyway,,,

also whoops this took me foreverrrrr but i hope u find it anon !!

☾𓆙𓂻

bokuto kōtarō

you guys have a long weekend and after the first day you and this insanely hyperactive boy run out of ideas of what to do

so you suggest that he teach you to play volleyball and obvi he's super excited

kō actually sneaks you guys into the gym since he's got a key (n like, if you did happen to get caught, who could stay mad at him?)

it's kind of late at night when you guys go since either way, he wants to do his best not to get you in trouble lol

you do actually want to learn and stay (mostly) focused for the first bit, until kō decides he wants a water break

so you sit on the bleachers and wait for him while he goes and grabs a water bottle out of the club room

but when he sits down next to you,,,,

that squish thing that thick thighs do when ppl with them sit down

yeah

his do that

you kinda don't even realize you're staring until you hear a little laugh and a "what?" and look up to see him leaning back on the row of seats behind him

and you respond by just smiling and reaching out to squish his thigh

he doesn't really process what's going on at first, like he just kinda looks at you blankly for a few seconds

and then he reaches out and squishes your thigh back and ummm long story short baby boy gets a little grabby and you end up making out on the bleachers lol and maybe riding his thigh

miya atsumu

tsum tsum's been pretty busy lately and hasn't gotten to see you a ton the past couple weeks, so he decides to skip practice and surprise you one day

he did not expect you to go off on him for it lmao

but once you stop to take a breath, he points out that there's no point in going all the way back to the gym now; he's already missed like half of it and it's easier to come up with an excuse for missing a day than it is for showing up like an hour late

so you're like, "fine, i guess," and then you have the wonderful idea that if he's not gonna show up to practice, maybe he could at least get some in by teaching you

"are you kidding lmao, you suck, how is that gonna be practice?" "stfu tsumu"

so he's agrees and decides to demonstrate some basic stuff first, just so you can get an idea of how much you suck compared to him what it should look like

you're seated on the ground watching him when you notice how his thighs flex when he jumps and how tight that ass is

you don't even realize you're staring until he goes, "okay, now you try," and you go, "try what," your eyes still fixed on his legs

it takes him a second to realize what exactly you were looking at and he thinks it's the funniest fucking thing lmao, and he turns around and like, smacks his ass or attempts to throw it back or something until you're laughing so hard your stomach cramps

you don't end up playing volleyball because 1) by the time you manage to stop laughing you're literally sore and 2) tumu's missed you the past week and now he just wants to hear you laugh more 💕

miya osamu

you can hear the boys practicing out back when you get to the miya's to hang out with samu, and out of curiosity you head over to watch since you rarely get to watch them practice at school and the vibes during actual games just aren't the same

samu sees you and is about to head inside to get showered and changed so you guys can hang out

you surprise both of them by asking if you can join instead

(atsumu complains that it's unfair that it's him versus the two of you and you have to shut him up by pointing out that you're probably gonna end up dragging osamu down because you've never played before)

it's not going too badly until samu suggests that you have a try at serving

which means that he's standing several feet in front of you

which means that you have a very clear view of his ass

he's also wearing grey gym shorts, which does not help (or does help a lot, depending on how you look at it)

atsumu notices you staring first, since osamu has his back to you

you go "fuck this" and run up and smack samu's ass LMAO

he turns around and just stares at you for a good few minutes and then drags you inside

atsumu's probably all like 😏😏😏

but for good reason

ah ha ha haaa

kuroo tetsurō

you wander into the gym in the last fifteen minutes of practice—you and tetsu had planned to meet outside but you'd gotten there early and didn't have much else to do

he looks over when he hears the door open and gives you a quick wave before turning his attention back to practicing, and you find yourself a seat on the bleachers

a few moments later he excuses himself for a water break and walks over to you, smiling like he's about to do something you're not going to enjoy

"what?" "what?" "why are you looking at me like that?" and he doesn't answer; he just finishes his water and drags you onto the court

"tetsu, what the fuck are you doing?"

"come practice :)))"

"i don't even play—" and then he shoves a ball into your hands. where'd it come from? who knows.

"shouldn't you be the one practicing? don't you, like, have a game this weekend?"

he assures you it's fine, there're only like ten minutes left of practice anyway, and shoves you into the rotation

and you don't really do much, at least until you narrowly miss getting smacked in the head with the ball because you're too busy staring at him, watching the way he moves, gym shorts clinging to his sweaty skin, and thinking about sitting on his lap on the train back to your place after this

"woah, woah, pay attention!" he laughs and you look up to meet his eyes, smiling absently. "whatcha looking at?" "nothing :))"

he really has to fight the urge to pull you into the locker room with him after practice lmao

and you do get to sit on his lap on the way home hehe

[zuppizup]

Hi! Please just ignore this if this question is weird and convoluted, I figured you’d be a good person to ask because you’re one of my fav fic authors and we’ve had a couple interactions in the past (I don’t expect you’d remember me lol) Anyway, I wanted to ask some questions about leaving comments on fics, obvi not all authors are the same but I’d really value your opinion. I read a lot of fanfic and I frequently see posts from authors talking about how valuable and enjoyable comments are, I don’t often leave comments but I’d really like to be offering that response and engagement. My issue is I have hella social anxiety and overthink the whole thing until I convince myself it would be better not to say anything. I think it would be a good challenge for me to push through that, and I think it would help to have some consistency in what I say. This is all a decidedly long winded way to ask if leaving comments just outlining my fav parts of a fic/chapter is good or helpful feedback? Also is it appropriate to comment regarding spelling issues and grammar mistakes? (I; a dyslexic queen of run-on sentences am obvi a connoisseur of the english language) So um yeah, thank you regardless of whether you want to respond ✌🏼

Hello! I most certainly do remember you! I think most creators have a pretty good memory for people who interact with their stuff. Certainly the ones I talk to do. ☺️

I absolutely get where you’re coming from with comment anxiety. I get it all the time myself! I was actually talking about it with some of the fandom writers recently. In fact, I often put off reading fics I’m super excited for until I have the time and energy to comment. I don't think that's particularly unusual either.

As a writer I most certainly adore getting comments. Short ones, long ones. A comment that’s just “kudos” or a smilie?

Love it! Someone read my stuff and took the time to leave me a wee note? They are precious and to be loved.

But a comment saying what someone liked about the chapter?! Oh, those are the absolute best! I can't think of a writer I've spoken to who doesn't love that style of comment.

When it comes to spelling and grammar, well, things get a little more complicated. I personally would much prefer someone point out a mistake like that to me. I don't have a beta (beta anxiety is real!) and I have a number of ways of editing a fic to try and capture typos, but they are sneaky and slip through. AO3 especially makes it quick and easy to edit a typo and boom, fic is better and more easy to read. Love that.

Some people are writing fic for fun though, and would rather not get comments like that. Which is totally fair and valid.

Your best bet is to see if the writer has a statement or notes saying they welcome constructive criticism. If not, I think it is probably best to err the side of caution.

For me personally, any type of comment is welcome and cherished. I yeet fics into the universe because otherwise they will go round and round in my head, so it’s really lovely that there is a community of people who read, kudos and comment on fics.

The Dragon Prince fandom really is one of the nicest, most welcoming fandoms this grandma has been in (and I’ve been in a few). I’ve made quite a few friends through commenting on fics and art, so there’s that angle too, if you are interested in developing fandom friendships.

Ultimately, we’re all here to have fun and enjoy the show. If commenting makes you anxious, it’s totally fine not to. People understand and you definitely shouldn’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable. If you really do want to try, you can just start small. Even a little emoji or a couple of words can make a difference in a writer’s day.

And if anyone has any tips, additions or comments, feel free to add them!