merp

|| 18+ || 🌹

[nejiverse]

ex husband! toji misses you ᰔ ᩚ. why proofread when u can read lohen fics amiright ᰔ ᩚ. 800 words

you hear a knock on the door. only toji knocks like that. twice, strong and loud.

you clicked your tongue. on your bed, little five-year-old megumi was curled on your left side fast asleep and tsumiki, who sensed your irritation, was on your right.

she noticed how you didn't unpause the movie which meant you were gonna ignore whoever was at the door so she did the same.

until the doorbell rang.

you pinched the bridge of your nose. "never knows when to quit, does he".

at your words tsumiki immediately knew who it was, taking it upon herself to answer the door.

"i'll get it!", she said as she hopped off the bed.

"tell him to fu—go away".

tsumiki giggled and nodded her head, skipping over to the door.

just as toji was mid knock, she opened the door slowly.

"hey princess, is your mom around?".

"yeah but she said go away", another giggle slipped past her lips upon remembering how you were so quick to correct your wording earlier.

toji's scratched his head and sighed. "that woman never lets up".

toji crouched down to tsukimi's height, elbow on his knee and fisted hand against his cheek. "will you tell her i just wanna talk? five minutes".

she hummed in agreement and ran back to your room where you were hoping he'd just do as you asked and go away.

but this was toji fushiguro. the man who was still hopelessly in love with you. he'd be damned if he gave up that easily.

"he wants to talk for five minutes", she held up five fingers to emphasise her words.

a pinched expression was engraved onto your face. you slapped your hands over your face, head facing the ceiling.

his 'five minute' talks were never just talks. neither were they five minutes. ever. last time it resulted in you two having a heated make out session and the time before that he ended up in your bed.

part of you was curious though, what would it be this time? what 'five minute talk' would you two get caught up in this time around?

"what do you want", you closed the door after you and leaned against it, crossing your arms over your chest.

toji stood opposite you, hands deep in his pockets, broad shoulders almost inviting you to throw your arms over, and that scarred grin of his— subtle but there.

"what do you want toji?", you repeated, patience wearing thin.

"missed ya", he stepped forward until the tips of your shoes were touching.

"that all?".

"do i need another reason?".

"are you twelve?".

"that reminds me. tsumiki's birthday next week, she say anything about it?", he asked unfazed.

you shook your head with an eye roll. you knew that wasn't his reason for coming. "said she wants a big party with all her friends. maybe a bouncy castle if the weather's good".

"and a unicorn cake?".

"naturally", the corners of your lips twitched which toji noticed. you couldn't help it, she's asked for a unicorn cake last year for her sixth birthday and the two years before that. it was amusing.

a moment of silence had passed before you shifted your weight onto your other leg. "you could've called".

"you don't pick up".

"i would've..eventually".

"that right?".

the hallway felt smaller, or maybe it was that he was standing way too close. you hadn't even noticed the distance between you two had grown smaller and you were sure that if you shifted forward even a bit, your chest would brush his.

"i miss you, doll".

you pushed his chest, but it wasn't as hard as you had intended. he didn't even move "right well if that's all then i'm going back inside".

toji grinned to himself, that unwavering indifference of yours was what made him fall in love with you in the first place.

as you opened the door, you were met with tsukimi who had her hands behind her back, smile plastered onto her face.

"can he come in? please mom? we can all watch the movie together!".

you looked down at your girl's pleading eyes. something you could never destroy, could never say no to.

"...i suppose".

"yay!!", she swung her arms up in the air, scurrying back to your room most likely deciding to wake megumi up and tell him the good news.

your head turned back to your ex-husband, facial expression doing a complete 360.

"you're lucky i love these kids to death".

"just like i love you to death".

"oh spare me".

masterlist :)

[ohfreshlinen]

𓂃✍︎ 18+ mdni · pussy so good, sukuna taps in

Loving Yūji comes with a package deal you don't necessarily know how to deal with. Granted, you've loved him first before this whole ordeal even happened — it still is a matter of when and never an if, per se, when it comes to his special situation. 

"So tight, baby," Yūji says between sucking his breath. He's not quite sure whether to ram and go at a harsher pace or let you adjust to his girth first. His control is being tested too much right now. "Even after all that." 

You moan his name in praise before you lock your legs around his waist and pull yourself closer to him, effectively shutting him up from keeping things slow. You've always wanted things rougher, something that Yūji loves about you (but even then, he still wishes to take his time). 

"Oh s-shit, baby!" Yūji would've let his eyes roll back if he wasn't focused on keeping his entire weight off of you. "F-Fuck!"

"H-Harder, Yūji," you beg him, "please."

Yūji doesn't need to be told twice. He grabs hold of your thighs roughly and pounds into you like an animal in heat. You arch your back further for more, and he gives in. 

"So good, baby," Yūji drools, "so, so good. Oh my — fuck!" 

Just as you are coming down with your first orgasm, another voice pierces through the solidity of the air and breaks it easily as if he had done this countless times before. 

"Enchain." 

Suddenly you are flipped on your hands and knees. Your hair has been forcibly fisted and yanked until your head is pulled back enough to see your lover covered in tattoos, and a vitriol laugh teases your ears. 

"Y-Yū —" 

"Brat's not here," Sukuna's voice deeply rumbles against your skin. 

This is the first time he's ever made his presence known to you. You've heard stories of how Sukuna would pop on Yūji's cheek or his hands whenever he's got something to say (especially towards your sensei and Megumi), but not once has he ever manifested and break through Yūji's control — and right in the middle of fucking, too. 

"Heh," he yanks you further until you can see his eyes gazing heatedly at yours, "pussy so good, my own vessel lost control. Let's see if you do live up to that expectation."

Then he slams your head against the pillow and fucks you senseless. It's wrong . . . to even feel how fucking good it is to be brutally pounded. 

Yet, here you are in the mercy of a sadistic curse, cackling like a bastard that he is. 

Sukuna had you spread out for him, as he continues to ram his cock up inside of you. One of his hands kneads your ass mockingly before he slaps each cheek hard. 

Your teeth bite into the soft fabric of the pillow, muffling your screams lest you want Megumi to hear you at the other side of the room. At this point, Sukuna slapping you might've really been a dead giveaway. 

"Y-Yūji —"

"My name, brat —"

"—Y-Yūji, Y-Yū—"

"— I said my name." He slaps your sloppily wet clit. 

You arch your back unknowingly to the sensation, and before you could have thought twice about it, your body yields and your mouth muddles the name, "S-Sukuna!"

"Good." He mutters darkly, "Good girl."

He fondles your breasts next. Then his tongue laps to the outline of your spine and back up to your neck, where he marks you. His canines have sunk into your skin so deeply, he can taste your blood, and that further fuels him into a mess of moans and praise as if he's drunk on an aphrodisiac. 

"Again." He orders you. "My name. Only." 

"Sukuna," you say. "Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna! F-Fuck, I —" 

"That's it."

The first of your orgasms comes to you like a torrent. It's harsh and unforgiving, much like how Sukuna doesn't stop fucking you even as you try your best to squirm away. 

When you feel that he's finally slowed down, when his hands have released the hold against your body, and you allow yourself to breathe a little better, there's a sudden shift between you and the King of Curses. You realize that it's because you've been flipped back and your legs are locked around his waist again. 

"S-Sukuna?" 

"No," Yūji breathlessly says. He leans his face closer until his lips brush yours. "I-It's me, baby. It's me. I'm sorry. I-I lost control. Are you hurt?" 

You shake your head with a smile. "N-No, I'm fine. I'm more than fine." 

"Yeah?" Yūji perks up. You notice that his cock has hardened once more and he's repositioning himself to your abused cunt. 

"Yeah, baby." You laugh dumbly. "That was . . . quite exhilarating." 

Yūji bumps his nose against yours. The heat in his eyes is visible, but nowhere near as intense as the other pair you were forced to look at earlier. 

"That was hot," Yūji admits. "Watching you . . . like that." 

"It was," you breathe out. 

When you peer below Yūji's eyes, you swear you've seen the glints of red and black squinting back at you as if to tell you that he's heard about your little honesty. 

Well, it really can't be helped sometimes. After all, loving Yūji does come with a deal. 

"Are you tired?" Yūji brushes your hair tenderly. 

You shake your head. "Not at all, baby." 

"Let me fuck you next, then." 

© ohfreshlinen — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, or plagiarize my content.

[typical-type]

protective!toji hates when anyone tries to talk over you.

࣪༯ short fluff, au, toji remarried to reader after losing mamaguro, reader is megumi's step mom, toji is employed.

art by jadore_lilly_ on insta!

You and Toji sat in Megumi's principals office, still dressed for work, and STILL waiting for this principal to come and discuss whatever was so important that the two of you had to leave work. Megumi had just started 3rd grade and this was already the second time his principal had called you for a meeting.

You checked your watch for like the 10th time within 5 minutes, your patience was running thin. Toji was leaned back balancing on the two back legs of his chair, rocking back and forth a bit, very obviously bored and tired of waiting.

Finally, the door to the office opened after what felt like forever, and the principal walked in. He came and sat across from the two of you at his desk.

"About time. Me and my wife got jobs y'know? Money don't grow on trees." Toji said, in a sour mood from waiting. (the concept of toji being employed..)

"My apologies to you both. I'm glad you both were able to make it." The principal said.

"What's the matter? Is something going on with Megumi?" You asked, fairly concerned.

The principal sighed.

"Megumi hasn't been getting along with a peer in his class. It's become disruptive to other students learning at this point." The principal said.

"Disruptive how?" You questioned, Megumi wasn't a disruptive kid at all, so this was confusing for you.

"Well, from what his teacher says, Megumi shoved the other child in question, for cutting him in line."

Silence stretched out after he spoke.

"...You serious? That's it? You really wasted my time to tell us that?" Toji asked, settling his chair back on all four of its legs with a thud, irked even more now.

"This isn't the same boy that was bothering him last time is it?" You asked. The first meeting you had with the principal was because Megumi punched the shit out of some other kid for messing with him, but you thought it had been long settled already.

The principal didn't speak for a bit, that told you all you needed to know.

"How is Megumi at fault for anything? That brat has been messing with MY son since school started. What have you done to hold him accountable? I don't see his parents up here right now." You said, starting to get reasonably upset.

"We've...Contacted his parents already." The principal said, sounding unsure. That pissed you off.

"What do you mean? It sounds like you're trying to punish my son fo-"

"Miss, I already said-"

"Don't talk over her." Toji cut him off with a stern tone, his brows knit together as he stared at him.

Being called up to Megumi's school in the middle of work for the second time? Fine. Waiting in this dusty ass office for 30 minutes? Cool. But someone, let alone this old ass man interrupting you? Nah. Toji didn't like that. And trust, he made it known.

You crossed one of your legs over the other, taking a deep breath.

"It sounds like you're punishing him for defending himself." You said, finishing your sentence uninterrupted this time.

"Miss...I understand your frustrations but this kind of behavior will not be tolerated at this school. No exceptions." The principal said.

"Let me get this straight." Toji began, oh boy...

"Let's say I punch the shit out of you right now. Aren't you gonna defend yourself?" He asked, looking the principal dead in the eye. The way Toji spoke, he was so casual about it. You lowkey couldn't tell if he was actually about to do some crazy shit or not...per usual.

"Toji..." You said quietly, side eyeing him.

"Is- Is that a threat Mr. Fushiguro?" The principal asked, appalled.

"Nah. I'm asking you a question. Answer it." Toji said. He then stood up, from his chair, your heart dropped a bit.

"Toji." You said again, this time a bit more stern.

"Let the man answer." Toji said, not even looking at you, his gaze still fixed on the man in front of him.

"You gonna defend yourself or what?" Toji asked again.

The principal gulped a bit.

"I uh...I suppose I would." He said.

Toji smirked a bit.

"There, problem solved. Don't blame my kid for doing it then." He said.

The principal hesitated before slowly nodding.

"I...Suppose I can't argue with that reasoning." He responded. You sighed in relief, arguing with Toji's reasoning wouldn't be in his best favor...

Toji stared at him for a few moments before he looked down at you and motioned his head to the door. You sighed and grabbed your purse, putting it on your shoulder as you stood.

"Next time don't call me or my wife in here unless it's important." Toji said, opening the office door for you and waiting for you to exit first.

You paused a bit, turning to speak with the principal once more,

"Sorry about him. I'm glad we could come to an understanding. Have a nice day." You said, walking out of the office. Toji rolled his eyes a bit, you were always too nice sometimes.

Toji looked back at the principal one more time,

"Talk over my wife like that again, and we're gonna have a problem." Was all he said, before following behind you, grumbling something under his breath about how he wasted his time, closing the door shut.

toji fluff? on this website?? in this economy????

okay but seriously i feel like toji would NOT play about his wife at alll and its so sexy ugh.

and im gonna be so honest fluff isn't really my specialty, writing spicy shit is more of my forte so i hope this wasnt too hard of a read for you all lmao. let me know what you thought of this loves, take care!

[keraxxx]

having sex with clark for the first time

“hah… baby, wait a minute now-“ he whines as your hand brushes against his throbbing cock in his boxers. his hand grips the sheets tight, knuckles turning white.

“clark, you gotta relax.” you murmur, your other hand cupping his cheek while you look into his eyes. his eyes are softer than usual and definitely full of hesitation.

“i don’t wanna hurt you.” his deep voice is just barely above a whisper. heat floods between your legs.

“you’re not gonna hurt me.”

you chuckle at his nervousness before moving to straddle his hips, hands running through his hair. his eyes soften as you press kisses along his jaw, trailing down to his neck. you smile as he sighs, hands trailing up to rest on your ass.

anddd that’s how you ended up getting fucked into the bed. tears streaming down your face, smearing the perfect mascara you had on a few hours before he came over. his cock was slamming into you, hands gripping your hips as his head rests against yours.

“ah! you’re so big! cant take it, fuck clarkkk.” you babble. you you could feel him in your stomach. he was knocking all the air from yours lungs. he was that deep.

“ah, i’m so sorry.” he hisses as he kisses your lips. he pull away, his eyes trailing to your dripping hole swallowing him. he slowly pulls his cock all the way out, only to slam it back in your wetness. you choke on a moan, hand flying to grip his shoulders. “oh jeez. you feel so good.” he groans as he pushes his hand down on you lower stomach, amplifying the pleasure coursing through your body.

he looks back up at you with a smile. his eyes scan over your flushed, puffy face as you sob his name.

“see? you’re taking me so well. i cant be that big.”

you groan in frustration at his words. clark can be so silly sometimes.

masterlist

[starl1ghtgr4yson]

𝜗ৎ “𝓟𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.”

part one here

more headcannons here

Summary: Jason’s on a sex ban— or quite literally, a complete touch ban!

warnings: whiny, pathetic Jason.

Jason Todd was an absolute idiot, there was no denying that. But he was a very desperate idiot. And he was willing to do anything if it meant you’d touch him again. You see, you’d put him on a complete sex/touch ban for three entire weeks, and well? Jason was not taking it well.

By day twelve of the three-week sentence, the fearsome Red Hood had effectively ceased to exist. In his place was a six-foot-two, two-hundred-and-fifteen-pound disaster who was entirely losing his grip on reality.

Jason didn’t do things by halves. When he was a crime lord, he took over the East End. When he was an Outlaw, he traveled through space and time. And when he was put on a strict ban by the only person who held his entire heart in her hands, he turned into this absolute menace of compliance.

The apartment had never been cleaner. It was, quite frankly, terrifying.

When you walked through the front door after an exhausting shift, you didn't just smell the familiar scent of Gotham rain and Jason’s expensive cologne. You smelled lemon verbena. You smelled freshly bleached tile

You stepped into the kitchen and paused. The countertops were sparkling so intensely they practically caught the light. Every single dish was not only washed, dried, and put away, but the spice rack had been meticulously alphabetized. Even the labels on the canned goods were facing perfectly forward.

And there, standing by the stove, was Jason.

He was wearing a pair of dark sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a tight, sleeveless black compression shirt that showed off every single rigid muscle, and scar, across his broad back. And the sight normally should’ve been enough for you to jump onto him, He was currently plate-stacking three different Tupperware containers of custom-marinated chicken breasts, a batch of freshly roasted vegetables, and a pot of handmade gnocchi.

The moment the lock clicked, Jason didn’t just look up. His entire body snapped to attention. His dark eyes locked onto yours with this frantic, high-alert energy that reminded you of a stray puppy.

He didn't break the rules. His large, heavily calloused hands clamped firmly onto the edge of the kitchen island to physically anchor himself in place, but his broad shoulders slouched instantly into a pathetic, pleading posture.

"Hey," he said. His voice was incredibly rough, a deep, gravelly rumble that sounded completely worn out, like he hadn't slept in a week— which he hasn’t. How could he without your hugs and kisses?. "I made dinner. I made the gnocchi from scratch. The way your grandma does it, with the potato-to-flour ratio you like. And I prepped your lunches for the next four days."

You set your bag down, looking at the sheer volume of food, then at the pristine kitchen. "Jason... did you scrub the baseboards?"

"Yes," he blurted out, shifting his weight from one heavy foot to the other, his eyes tracking your every movement with an agonizing level of pining. "And I ran the vacuum over the carpet three times to get the lines perfectly straight. And I picked up Lily’s toys and sanitized every single block with baby-safe wipes so she doesn't ingest any rogue bacteria. I did it all."

"Wow," you murmured, leaning against the counter. "You've been busy."

"I'm losing my mind," Jason confessed, his voice dropping into a soft, intensely whiny pitch that would have shocked anyone who had ever seen him pull a trigger. He let go of the counter, taking one agonizingly slow step toward you, but stopping exactly two feet away to respect the boundary. He looked down at you from under his dark lashes, his jaw tight, his white streak of hair falling messily across his forehead. "Babe. Sweetheart. Light of my life. Look at me. I am literally vibrating. I haven't slept in forty-eight hours because every time I close my eyes, I just think about how I'm not allowed to hold you."

"It's only been twelve days, Jay," you teased, crossing your arms and fighting the massive smirk tugging at your lips.

"Twelve days is two hundred and eighty-eight hours!" Jason groaned, a loud, muffled sound of pure misery escaping his throat as he dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Do you know what I did last night? On patrol? I didn't even break any noses. A guy tried to mug a tourist in an alley, and instead of hurting him I settled on throwing him into a dumpster. I'm broken. You've broken the Red Hood."

He dropped his gaze back to you, his chest rising and falling in a heavy, desperate exhale. He slowly sunk downward, dropping his massive, muscular frame right onto his knees on your kitchen tile. He looked up at you from the floor, his hands resting on his own thighs, completely and utterly humbled.

"Please," Jason pleaded, his gravelly voice cracking slightly as he looked up at you with wide, desperate eyes. "Look at me. I'm on my knees. I'm saying the words. I'll be a good boy, sweetheart. I swear to God, I'll be the best boy you’ve ever had. I’ll never let Roy inside a three-block radius of this building again. I’ll make him sign a legal waiver. I’ll personally rewrite Lily’s vocabulary list. I will literally do anything.”

You looked down at him, your heart melting just a little bit at the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of Gotham’s most dangerous vigilante begging for his life on your kitchen floor.

"Are you begging, Jason Todd?" you murmured, stepping half an inch closer.

"Yes! Yes, I am absolutely begging, I have zero shame left," he whispered frantically, his dark eyes instantly tracking your movement, glowing with a sudden, fierce spark of hope. He leaned forward slightly, though he kept his hands firmly on his knees. "I don't even need the whole thing. Just a deal. Let me negotiate. A partial payout. Five minutes of cuddles on the couch. You don't even have to move. I will just lie there like a giant, silent weighted blanket. I won't use my hands. I'll tuck them under my chest. Just let me smell your hair, babe. Please."

"Just cuddles?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A kiss," he corrected instantly, his voice taking on a thick, desperate edge as he looked at your lips. "One kiss. Short. Sweet. Clean. Well, maybe not entirely clean, but just *something*. My lips are falling off, sweetheart. They’re dying. I'm a dying man."

You let out a soft laugh, finally breaking your resolve. The sight of him on his knees, completely devoted, utterly whiny, and entirely yours was too much to resist. You reached out, your fingers gently sliding into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

Jason practically shuddered at the touch, a low, ragged sigh breaking from his chest as he immediately leaned his face into your palm, his eyes closing in pure, unadulterated relief.

"Alright," you whispered, running your thumb over his sharp jawline. "The ban is suspended. Just for tonight."

Jason didn't even wait for you to finish the sentence. He surged up from the floor, his large, powerful arms instantly wrapping around your waist and lifting you completely off your feet. He pulled you flush against his broad chest, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a deep, shaky inhale.

"Oh, thank God," he mumbled against your skin

He didn't waste a second moving you to the living room, collapsing onto the couch and pulling you down on top of him. He was a man possessed by pure, desperate compliance, his massive frame sinking deep into the cushions until he was completely flat on his back, using his own chest as a platform for you.

"Rules," he breathed out, his voice a rough, scraped-raw whisper against your hair. He immediately tucked both of his massive, scarred hands flat underneath his own chest, pinning them between his body and the sofa cushions. He looked up at you from the pillows, his jaw open slightly, his eyes wide and completely glazed over with absolute devotion. "Look. Hands are away. I’m not moving 'em. See? Good boy."

You couldn't help the soft laugh that bubbled out of you, leaning your weight fully against his chest. Even stripped of his weapons and armor, Jason was a solid wall of muscle, but right now, he felt completely pliable beneath you, his entire body relaxing into a soft, heavy puddle the second your warmth pressed into him.

"Very good boy, Jay," you murmured, tracing a slow line down his cheekbone.

Jason practically whimpered at the touch, his eyes fluttering shut as he tilted his face aggressively into your palm, chasing the friction of your skin like a man dying of thirst. "More," he pleaded, his voice cracking, entirely unbothered by how pathetic he sounded. "Babe, please. Just keep doing that. Left side of my jaw. Right there. Oh, God."

You smiled, leaning down slowly until your lips were just a fraction of an inch away from his. You could feel the frantic, heavy thump of his heart hammering against your ribs, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The fearsome Red Hood was completely paralyzed under your gaze, his chest rising and falling beneath you as he waited for permission.

"Can I?" he whispered, his dark eyes snapping open, staring at your mouth with a hunger that was almost frightening, yet he didn't move a single muscle to take it. "Please, sweetheart. Just a little bit. I’ve been so good for you."

"Go ahead, Jay."

The second the words left your mouth, Jason didn't lunge—he just reached up with his face, his lips meeting yours with a soft, trembling reverence that completely dismantled the tough-guy persona. It was a deep, heavy, agonizingly slow kiss, full of the built-up tension of the last twelve days. He drank you in like oxygen, a low, needy vibration rumbling deep in his chest as his lips parted against yours, begging for more without his hands ever leaving their pinned position beneath him.

Hunhbknhjnkk oh my goodness this man he’s so fine wtf

Taglist: @leovaldez0924 @newangelle @pxrcyjcksons @rani1028 @maradcrs @purelypersistenttribe @cecillia-stuff @sarahskywalker-amidala @starrydustedwinter @brucewayneisavirgin @idkwhattosaynowsorry @sexy-sadie-6505 @steadyclarityparadox @fireiyu

[kararray]

(MDNI - jock!bf x f!cubby!reader; popular!jock!bf x insecure!reader; a little smut)

Jock bf who is loved by everyone but only has eyes for you. He’s confident, cold, hard on the outside but when he’s with you he’s nothing but soft and attentive. He often becomes a bit of gooey mess when you give him attention, but don’t think that means he can’t dominate tf out of you.

He’s huge—like towering heads over you kinda huge—so muscular and broad he’s broken multiple pieces of furniture. He has no problem manhandling you, throwing you around and using you like his own little doll. You never thought you’d find a guy who could make you feel so small and delicate.

He loves your body so much, if you’re around his eyes won’t leave you, not unless he can touch you in some way—a hand placed on your thigh, kneading the flesh absentmindedly, his arms wrapped around your shoulders or your waist as you stand in front of him, your back to his chest, immediately pulling you onto his lap when you need to sit down.

You’ve caught him stealing some of your clothing before—shirts, hoodies, panties—and he admitted that he couldn’t sleep without being able to smell your scent. He told you that sometimes he’ll fall asleep with a pair of your dirty panties pressed to his face, his nose breathing in your intoxicating scent like he needs it to live. After he told you that he became more open about his need to smell you, it became very normal for him to randomly stuff his face in your neck to take deep sometimes open mouthed inhales.

He’s fiercely protective of you as well. When he hears someone say a word about you, talking about you with the even the slightest bit of negativity—making a comment about your body or your mind like they have the right—he goes absolutely ballistic. And he wasn’t just protecting you from others, he also protected you from yourself. Anytime you’d talk down about yourself, doubting your beauty or your intelligence—literally anything—he would make it his mission to help you see the truth. Fucking you with brutality, his painfully hard thrusts would come faster and harder as the deep rumbling of his voice would growl how perfect you were before he ordered you to repeat positive affirmations, not stopping his ruthless love making until you started to believe the words. “You're gorgeous baby, say it. Tell me how smart my girl is, how kind and perfect she is. Louder princess, say it like you mean it. That’s it sweet girl, you're doing so good baby. I know you might not believe it yet but soon you’ll believe it just as much as I know it to be true baby girl.”

[kentluv3r]

lying to BOXER! JASON TODD about being a virgin… so don’t be surprised when you cum so easy!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 CONTENT WARNINGS: lying about virginity, overstimulationnnn, teasing! boxer! jason todd, MINORS DNI ノ fem! virgin! reader, gentle sex, dirty talk, technical virginity loss, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, tiny bit of a strength kink!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: sorry, I’ve been on a boxer! jason todd high so muchhhhh, I just love him, sorry not sorry! this is inspired by the hot concept of men lying about being virgins and cumming prematurely but make it reader because lowkey? it’s just an excuse for jason to abuse that pussy 🫠 dare i say i have knight/medieval! jason todd in the works rn cause finn bennett as aerion targaryen awoken my soul for knight! characters.

honestly, you weren’t that much of a liar.

you didn’t like to lie— there was something weird about it. something weird about looking someone in the face and lying your ass off. you only lied a couple of times about small things; being sick, not wanting to go on a date, not wanting to hang out… simple things. not things like this.

and to be completely and utterly honest; you didn’t exactly stop lying when it came to getting into bed with jason todd.

you knew who he was— a famous boxer with too many wins to count, but you acted oblivious to his boxing resume when he first approached to you at a small diner. he found you attractive when he was eating with his big brother, dick— yes. his name is dick, doesn’t like going by richard— and dick encouraged him to approach you. so you shared your number with him and began to text him.

things fell into place and a month of talking… he invited you to one of his fights. a big boxing fight, he’s the biggest name on the card. and watching from the third row as jason knocked his opponent out in the third round… you knew damn well what was going to happen later that night.

the problem? you were not quite… experienced at sex.

you have masturbated, you have touched yourself and have used sex toys on yourself. you’ve kissed people in high school and you’ve let them touch you up… but nothing as far as that. just, it hasn’t happened naturally. it wasn’t some weird obligation thing, you weren’t saving yourself for marriage or for anyone special… it just didn’t feel right any time it came down to it, so now? as a hard working adult seeing this boxer? you knew damn well you’d have to face it.

so after celebrating jason’s win at his favorite local burger place— always feeling his rough hand on yours even as you ate, you brought him to your place… and of course, when two hot people who are very attracted to each other are alone… things get hot and steamy.

he got you over the finish line with ease the moment his mouth sucked on your clit, flicking his tongue up and down and using two of his fingers in your tight cunt to cum, eating the cum off his fingers with glee as clothes came off, hair was pulled, and jason was stroking his cock with lube (mixed with a little bit of your own cum cause how could he not?).

“jason… mhm…” you whisper, your legs already spread on the bed as your hands clasped in the bedsheets. you couldn’t lie; you were absolutely nervous.

sure, you’ve played with yourself before— you’ve stuck a dildo in your cunt a couple of times. you know what it feels like to be stretched by a silicone toy that was listed as six inches long and was about five and a half inches… but this was different.

this was a real dick, a real cock attached to a very attractive boxer that you just happened to get the attention of.

jason smiled down at you as his right hand stayed on his seven inch cock, his left hand gently stroking up and down your leg as his body keeps your legs open. “you’re pretty, baby.” he whispers, leaning down and kissing your left knee. “such a cute girl… all spread f’me…”

your face heats up internally at his compliments, it felt good to be flirted with, especially by jason with his stupidly hot voice and his demeanor. “jason, mhm…” you respond back, mentally preparing yourself for how this is gonna feel— it’s just like a dildo, the stretch and the feeling, you could handle it; of course you can!

jason lined his tip up with your folds and leaned down, kissing your lips and whispering against your lips. “if you can’t handle it, tell me sweetheart, ain’t trying to hurt you, promise.”

you nod your head, wrapping both arms around his neck. “of course, jay… now fuck me.” oh the confidence you have.

he smiles at your words and press against your cunt, his tip feeling the warmness of your cunt as you seemingly let him in with no problem. he’s slow to push into you, being oh so gentle with his hips as his left hand digs into the bed, his right hand pressed on top of your abdomen as he’s careful with his ease into you.

and fuck fuck fuck— it feels so good. it feels too good.

you could barely feel anything else besides jason stretching you with his cock— naturally, this felt different than the dildo, the skin of jason’s cock different than the silicone. he was so much better and thicker than the toy, warmer than the toy as well— everything felt overwhelming that you didn’t know if you could handle much more… and the pathetic part was that he was only three inches in, he still had four more inches to go and you already feel like this.

“jason! jason! oh fuckkkkk, jayyyy.” you moan out, fingers digging into the back of his neck, your pussy fluttering ‘round him as your toes curled in the air. “s-so good… so full… oh fuck.”

he smiles above you as he kisses your moaning lips, gently continuing his movements, taking your moans as good enough to keep moving. “good girl… taking me so fuckin’ well, bet this pussy misses being treated so good.”

yeah; my pussy has never been treated any which way, but obviously— you couldn’t fucking say that, so you just moan in response, vibrating against his skin.

you felt so warm inside, you couldn’t stop your pleasure from climbing just by him pushing into you and his lips on your skin, you just couldn’t help it. it felt too fucking good.

not knowing what to do— you couldn’t stop yourself, and with barely three thrusts in… you felt yourself slipping over the same edge that his mouth brought you over. his hips don’t sputter once, his face hidden in your neck as he pressed kisses in your neck— your eyes rolling back as your nails dug into his biceps.

it felt so fucking good, your pussy was fluttering and you felt pleasure push and flow through your veins.

jason mutters a curse as he watches you, star struck by your expression and almost surprised— he’s not mean about his expression either, he’s shocked he was able to make you cum this fast… “oh baby, you already cummed?” he questions, leaning down and pressing a kiss on your lips. “good to know i make you feel this good.”

“ah— ah! oh fuck, jay!” you moan in overstimulation, back arching off the bed and pressing your breasts against his broad chest. “ah— ‘m sorry! ‘m sorry… didn’t me-mean to.”

jason looks at you with soft eyes that even makes you tear up, leaning down and kissing your cheek. “don’t apologize f’me baby, don’t ever apologize for cumming so beautifully.” he encourages, continuing his thrusts even with your orgasm melting through you. “this pussy loves me, huh?”

your fingers digs down into his back as you whine, breathing deep as jason continues to ruin you. “jay— jay, c’can’t take it— oh fuck… oh fuck!”

“you’re taking it great baby, just hold out f’me, hun, you’ll feel good again.” he whispers, kissing your lips.

the kiss is sloppy and barely there on your side, but you try to kiss him again, heat overtaking your entire body as overstimulation slowly subsidies and suddenly feeling that same build up as last time.

you whimper against his lips as your hands both thread through his messy black hair, nails yanking on him as you feel his cock drag against your walls again, his balls slapping against your cunt.

he moans as you squeeze around him, both hands holding onto your thighs. “beautiful girl… betcha you need to cum again, huh?”

nodding your head, you bite into his shoulder, the pain of the overstimulation and the pleasure of your orgasm ruins you before you could confirm anything to him; your eyes rolling back and the scream of his name gives him the confirmation.

you just cummed again and he’s looking at you like a fucking angel on this earth.

“there you go… cum, cum all over my shit, baby.” he encourages. “lemme see this pretty face fucking wrecked for me again.”

maybe lying about your virginity to your boyfriend was the best idea ever, cause it got you fucked like this!

masterlist is here! click here for more!

ⓘ KENTLUV3R’S WORK. all my fanfics (not the characters) is my very own, coming from my own efforts and my time. do not copy my work, rewrite it, shove it through an ai machine and shit out slop, and don’t repost to wattpad/ao3/c.ai!

[honeysucklewatr]

tears of pleasure

smut | size difference | big, beefy loverboy!jason

everything about jason todd is beyond hot.

though one of the sexiest things about him is his mind. how much he knew, like random facts that would win you a grand prize in a game show about books or historical events. or even about you and what makes you tick. where you liked to eat and how you’d crack your knuckles. he always knew.

his attention to detail was unmatched because he is an amazing observer.

he knew you so deeply that it was like he studied you in the same way he searched for information. kept your image close to his heart and burned it to memory like a brand.

but you hadn’t yet gotten further with jason other than making out hard and panting even harder, you knew he was the type to prioritize your pleasure over his. when you started touching more intimately, he saw how much you liked him and felt more confident in how heavily he felt for you. he’d hold those moments with the same tenderness he held your hand with on your first date, devotion leaking from his pores.

jason wasn’t prepared to see how he could completely ruin you when it translated to bed. he didn’t even know he was capable of it, though once he got a taste, he knew he was unconditionally yours. mapping out roads around your body and marking the spot that made you make the most noises. memorizing the map that led to what he really wanted.

the first time was after a week that was horribly cold and you clung to jason like a second skin. overtime, his warm hands fell to between your thighs and when you didn’t stop him, he continued. shakily, more afraid of hurting you than anything else. though entirely skilled, he knew exactly what makes you tick. every single button he pressed made the experience all the more memorable. every touch and every praise, jason made it comfortable and safe like it was his priority because it is.

now its getting hot and heavy. he’s got you pinned under him hand running up your side while he just barely restrained himself. taking your panties off of you so slowly, unwrapping you like a gift he is oh so grateful to receive.

as though he’s afraid of hurting you somehow.

dragging his heavy, weeping tip through your folds. letting the weight rest against you after prepping for what felt like eternity. the resistance is hardly there at this point, but even now, jason’s bigger than anyone could gauge. what you’d imagined in your mind was ten times fold with him and the girth he harboured was a little daunting.

“i got you princess.” he breathes. “will you let me in?”

eyes staring into his as heart shapes form in the thin air, you nod breathlessly.

you’re not one to back down from a challenge, right?

then he presses forward and kisses you at the same time, swallowing down the gasp that took your breath. only an inch inside and he’s the one shaking already, cupping your face with one hand and fisting the bedsheet by your head with the other.

the stretch is incredible. the sheer size of him both unwarranted and ridiculously impressive. but when you consider his soft spoken voice and the gentle rasp that shook you to your core, it only made your arousal greater.

he drops his head to your cheek and kisses your face gently. then he lets his lips trail down your jaw, licking down then he could tuck his head in your neck and breathe you in. rocking into you slow like he was afraid to fully seat himself inside.

jason whimpers your name softly when you tense. “ease up ma.” before letting a hand circle your clit.

“i’m sorry,” breath shakily as you wrap your ankles around his back. “you’re really big.”

something in his perfect face melts and his lips upturn. he stops his hips from moving any further. “don’t apologize to me, i should be doing that. god, please don’t tell me i’m hurting you.”

but the wait was eating you up. the feeling of him there and not giving you it all was building and the ache was defeaning.

you needed all of him.

you shake your head and try to buck into him further, but jason’s hand shifts to your hip and holds you firm. still holding himself back for some reason unknown to you. a whine slips from your lips when you try to get closer and he groans like the action was ruining him.

this time, you decide to plead. “i want it all jay”

blinking down at you, he shifts his gaze from eye to eye. needing the reassurance as though he truly believed you were saving his feelings.

“are you sure?”

you nod and part your lips, biting your lip softly as the pressure rests there. “please.”

then jason leans down and you think he’s going to kiss you. plump lips pink and swollen with tension as he washes his eyes over your face. resting his forehead on yours before closing his eyes and still not moving his hips yet. just letting the weight of what would fill you stay just in reach but out of touch.

like a threat that’s more like a promise.

“i love you so much.” he admits before pressing his lips to yours, muffling any response you could’ve had.

you moan into his mouth then, half surprise and pleasure. the feeling was unreal. the stretch around him stole the air from your lungs even though he was moving so slowly.

he pressed forward and despite the pleasureful pain it caused, letting your ankles dig into his back and pull him deeper until he was fully seated inside you. a tear slips down your face just as he parts from you to breathe and a cry escapes past your lips.

the sound is enough to startle jason and halt any movement. he pulls back as your tear strikes fear echoes across on his face, thinking you were in pain from him doing.

“shit—did i hurt you?”

taking a moment to compose yourself, you shake your head warily. “no,” the sound another muffled cry as he stayed impossibly still, unsure what to do.

“sweetheart, you’re crying,” leaning back trying to pull his weight off of you.

though you don’t let him move far, tightening your hold on him and locking your ankles.

“stay,” gripping him close for dear life.

his eyes stay unwavering and his hips stay still. he reaches up for your face again and brushes his thumb over your cheek before he nods at your determination.

“okay,” shakily he says. “but if it hurts—”

“it doesn’t.” you quickly interrupt. “i promise, it feels good.”

a slow smile creeps up his face. “yeah? you feel good?”

you nod again and stare straight at his lips, urging him on. slowly his resolve crumbles and he lands closer to your face to kiss you once again. pressing his perfect lips to yours like a seal and a lock.

just then he adjusts his hips, shifting them forward and rocking into you. he watches as your breath hitches and your fingernails dig into your palms. head drawing back to drown into the pillow beneath it. he groans at the slight resistance created in the friction but eases up until you let him in so easily. hands on your hips tight but not hurting, just enough to remind you where he was.

he takes your hands and pries your fingers up, interlocking them with his to distract you from the sensation. slowly inching his way inside until the tears in your eyes were accompanied by gentle moans.

then you drag him closer once again and he lets you interlock your ankles behind him.

“let me do the work,” panting by your ear. “let me show you how i love you.”

wiping your tears, his teeth shine brightly as he smiles and soothingly strokes your face. impossible gentleness from his calloused hands. when the words die, he converses with his eyes you could drown inside of.

finally he bottoms out with a soft sputter on his tongue, completely unable to mask his weight behind his heavy hips, touching your cervix from this angle. nailing dig into his hand, needing to be grounded and feel him completely, jason pants heavily. he brings your hands up higher until they rested just above your head. the loving frame he posed you in was so evident you could cry. instead, you paint him in the same light.

the ministrations resume and he moves with less restraint than you’d started with. watching how your expressions changed and the sounds escaped your lips quicker with every movement.

his deep thrusts could’ve knocked the air from your lungs but he was doing it so slowly as he inched himself further, it melted away. pleasureful bliss blooms across your skin as he kisses your neck. leaving open mouthed smooches up to your face and worked back down, surely leaving marks in their wake.

“please jay,” moaning out as though he wasn’t already fucking you. “more.”

jason fucks you like he was about to lose you then, when he looks up and sees your eyes rolling and the tear streaks on your face. letting go of your arms to lift you up and over him. he rolls onto his back and seats you in his lap, never pulling completely out, just enough that you feel what you’d need to retake.

“okay princess,” he coos. “i’ll help, yeah?”

already exhausted but willingly to please him, you grip his shoulders and start to grind down into him. he cups your ass and lifts you up, letting your weight back onto him over and over. the mix of your arousal making it easier to fuck up into you as he holds you effortlessly. shifting your hips against him weakly, jason decides to take up the task entirely but not until he really sees you struggle to fit him inside you.

a couple more whines escape you as you attempt to move, taking an inch deeper just to grind against his pelvis. minutes go by like this, when he tries to tell you it’s okay and he can do it, you shake your head like you’re already gone. then you tell him you can handle it.

both of you know you can’t.

another roll of your hips against his where a broken moan pulls him out his head causes jason’s brain to flip. he doesn’t just hold you anymore, no, he starts to get meaner. not like he wants to hurt you, but he wanted to give you what he’s wanted all night—to fuck you full.

thrusting up again and again while he watches your face contort, slowly melting onto his chest while he sits up further. moving you up and down onto him, biting his lips to control his moans when you whimper his name. then he can’t even hide that. groans and moans, gasps and sighs—they fill your ears like sinful symphony as he works himself up further. he listens to the praises you say in his ear while he does the work you should’ve, fucking up into you as though on a mission. his pace picks up as he feels you moving back into him, matching his thrusts with your own.

the peak sneaks up on you when he tangles his hand in your hair to get a look at your face. pulling just enough to see your expression and gasp when he continues his ministrations.

“i wanna watch you let go for me.” nearly whining when he admits. “you gonna let me come inside you? please?” his breathy voice coaxing you.

vigorously you nod as his pace begins to falter and his thrusts only become deeper as though he wanted to get closer.

it’s enough to spur you on. enough to push you right over the edge as you see his pink, bitten lips and the flush on his cheeks. the ruffle in his hair that proved how long this had been going on for. he looked so incredibly hot, you could die a happy woman tonight just from his good he’s fucked you.

through the peak, he carries you over, not stopping and not pausing his filthy promises. you’re clamping down around him when he sputters your name, groaning harshly and prolonging the feeling. you can feel him reaching his climax, bucking into you and movements stuttering. when he comes, you feel the pulses as he fills you. rope after rope painting you white from within. the waves of intense pleasure as his veins drag and he starts overstimulates himself. then he reaches between you to circle your sensitive bud, thrusting sloppily as you’re limp against him and throwing you into another orgasm.

practically screaming his name as you muffle a cry into his shoulder, barring your teeth and taking a bite of his supple skin. shaking as he fucks you through another climax and pushes his seed deeper inside. hand slipping off his shoulder as he slows his movements. groaning softly by your ear as he makes shallow bucks as though he didn’t want this to end.

but fucked out in his arms is his lover, drenched in sweat and slick that he didn’t know had even reached those places. and still, he was buried inside you with no indication of wanting to move.

minutes go by like this, both of you entirely spent and trying to catch your breath. he’s first to look at you and ensure that he hadn’t harmed you. eyes closed and lips parted, panting hard like you’d run a marathon as jason looks the same. leaning back further just to see the look on your face, jason kisses your forehead then.

“was that okay?” he twists at your heartstrings. “did i hurt you?”

still he was questioning himself and you were just coherent enough to shake your head and speak in a slur. “you’re perfect. my perfect boy.”

the breathy words only made him smile. his grin wide and toothy as he kisses the top of your head over and over. ignoring how your hair stuck to your head, hoping you’d do the same to him.

“sweet baby.” murmuring between his rough kisses that felt like cuteness aggression towards you. “i love you so, so much.”

you hum as you nuzzle into his chest. “mmhmf, i love you too.”

still cheesing, he holds you tight against him. part of him felt like he was dreaming with how much he loved you. his body shaking with restraint as he twitched inside you but he knew you were too exhausted to go again. leaning himself back onto the mattress to tuck you against him further, holding you there like something sacred. as though you would run or get taken away if he faltered his hold at all.

the hold on you only grounding as though you were floating over your body still, ghosting like he’d fucked you into the afterlife. sleep eases its way through your body and jason absorbs it.

only minutes later you’re completely asleep, snoring peacefully as jason drools on your head.

and there’s no place you’d rather be.

forgive me for this filth. i’m never a normal person when i’m ovulating…

[cabriolett]

your popular ex-boyfriend decides to throw a party to forget about you

“i need to let loose”, he said under his breath for the tenth time, “i deserve to. i'm in my fucking twenties. i can't just be hung up over some chick. women literally beg me to sign their tits”, he scoffed.

but as he caught his reflection in the mirror, his guard slipped and his brain let out a thought he'd been desperately trying to bury.

he wanted you to come to his party. even if nobody else did.

he wanted you to see him again, and he wanted to dance with you and let you whisper into his ear to make sure he heard your words amidst the noise.

gritting his teeth, he scolded his brain for thinking such a ridiculous thing. he made a promise right then and there to make-out with as many girls as he could that night, and forget all about this stupid break-up once and for all.

ring!

speaking of which…

answering the doorbell, he saved himself in the nick of time from getting trampled. college girls and guys had appeared by the bucketful, filling his apartment as if it was the shady back of a drug dealing alley. stuffing his hands into his pockets, he let the show begin. for the next hour he entertained jocky dudes, flashed smiles at shrieking girls and ranted stories about his lavish life and parties to all. the audience listened on with rapt attention as if he was the prime minister himself.

just when he reached the climax of his hilarious incident with the u.s. airport police, his eyes caught the door. he’d left it unlocked as an open invitation for everyone to join, but of course he only noticed you entering.

and the worst part? his heart fluttered when you walked in. physically rammed against his ribs as if to jump out and run towards you and beg on his knees for forgiveness. but of course, his ego was too high to even be caught looking at you again. so he continued with his story, meekly finishing it while glancing in your direction every ten seconds.

curse you for looking drop dead gorgeous as usual. pretty, glittery dress hugging your figure and reaching the middle of your thighs, angelic eyes that seemed to beckon him further. couldn’t you even try to act as if the break-up had fucked you up as much as it did him? but he guessed it was beyond your ability to look anything less than beautiful in his eyes, even if you tried.

but wait…who was that next to you?

a man entered his line of vision, linking arms with you and laughing along. you were staring up at him, eyes crinkling in a smile.

something in his chest seemed to settle, heavy and painful. a sharp pinch of anger soared through him before dulling into an ache. you weren’t tied down to him anymore, nor did you owe him anything. you had every right to waltz in with whoever you chose.

but at his house, seriously? you had to be messing with him. and god, it was working. too well for his own good.

his eyes fell on your ‘friend’ instead. his brain was screaming at him to just be rational, but he couldn’t. he found himself sneering, and wondering to himself what you even saw in that guy. he was too polished, too uptight and meek of a man to be with someone like you. he wasn’t even your type.

..was he? how could he not know? regardless, mr. uptight looked nothing like him…but was he even your type? why did he automatically hold himself as the baseline for all the men you’re attracted to?

god, all this thinking was making his brain hurt. he’d never had to think about a girl so much. it felt horrid. is this what you had to go through everyday with him?

to rid himself of the discomfort now seeping into his bones, he sought out for the nearest pack of girls. sauntering over, he began distracting himself in the only way he knew how. he started a conversation, laughed at all the right places, leaned just enough to make their pupils dilate, and made flirty remarks until they blushed. but a few minutes in, a realisation hit him. not a groundbreaking one, something that he seemed to have subconsciously known for a while now.

he wasn’t really enjoying this.

he wasn’t present in the moment like he used to be, because some part of him kept reverting back to you. a bubble of guilt rose up in his throat every time a girl touched him, or laughed at his jokes a little too flirtatiously. he felt empty, like he was performing a play he didn’t understand.

maybe it was because he was too used to the rush of emotion he got every time he talked to you, or stared at you. going from that to the cheap scraps of making some other stranger laugh felt like a massive downgrade, one that he didn’t want to get accustomed to. with a pang he remembered that he couldn’t even recall the last time he made you laugh.

disentangling himself from the crowd, he balefully dragged his feet to the corner where his best friend stood. without a second glance, he snatched his drink and downed it in one go. a weak protest sounded from his friend's lips, but one good look at him gave him enough insight to shut up.

out of habit, his eyes wandered once again to you. he saw the guy next to you becoming increasingly touchy, his hands roaming across your skin. the fingers on his right hand were playing with the strap of your dress, and his other palm was lodged firmly above your ass. anger swirled inside him as his hand crushed the now empty cup.

“that fucker. he’s touching her.”

his friend looked on with furrowed eyebrows, following his line of sight. seeing the scene, he let out a small “oh.”

“what an asshole”, he gritted out, inwardly making up his mind to confront the loser right then and there.

“dude, i’m pretty sure she’s fine.”

“what?”

“yeah. more than fine, actually. she seems to like it.”

his eyes panned until they settled on you. and damn it, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, you did seem to like the attention. you were giggling and staring at your touchy date like he was the only person in the room.

you used to stare at him like that.

the heaviness that settled in his chest this time hurt more. because it came with a realisation. a realisation that he never even checked once to see if you were okay with it, that he automatically assumed you would be uncomfortable; and you weren’t. you were fine.

you were fine without him.

your eyes met his from across the room. he could see you hesitating even from the distance. but ultimately, one side in your inner debate won and you raised a hand in his direction, shooting him a wavering smile.

and he could do nothing but stand there and return it.

divider creds !: @/diviniyae

[blushryo]

what abt a zuko x reader where reader and zuko just got married, but a fire nation tradition states that 2 fire sages have to be present in the bedroom to confirm the marriage had been consummated. reader finds out as her lady’s maids dress her in ceremonial yet revealing robes meant for the wedding night, and reader feels anxious but willing to do anything to prove herself worthy of being fire lady. zuko only finds out abt it when reader enters the bedroom followed by two fire sages who go on and on abt tradition, and zuko loudly defends his and readers right to privacy, banning the practice. After they leave, zuko and reader sit, and zuko helps wipe off reader’s ceremonial makeup and comforts her.

can get kinda heated w tension after that lol but i liked this kind of angsty portrayal of zuko rewriting old fire nation practices while defending his love.

𝓢𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓢𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐘 ❤︎

story based on this ask ⊹ fem!reader ⋮ angst if you squint, comfort 𐙚 1.8k words

✉️ ྀི ៸៸៸ wrote this much quicker than i thought so hope u enjoy it nonnie (๑´3｀๑)

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀getting married to the fire lord was honestly a dream come true for you. having grown up with him all these years and to witness right before your eyes him turn into the most beautiful and courteous man you have ever had the pleasure of knowing was truly a delight. and when he finally proposed to you under the twinkling stars where the both of you had had your first date all those years ago, you felt your heart burst with such joy and ever since then it felt as if you were floating in cloud nine.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀however, you had not expected the obligations that came with being wedded to the nation's sovereign. you were aware of the royal traditions that you were expected to do before the wedding ceremony including drinking nuptial wine and exchanging the beautiful golden-plated ruyis to one another. the one tradition that you were not enlightened to was of the consummation rituals . . which meant for two older fire sages to be the ones to be eye-witnesses that the coition had indeed been fulfilled.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀zuko had never mentioned this to you. was it out of respect for you, you could not say for certain. but you were sure that he would have — at the very least he would have informed you that this was just part of the traditions of the royal family. and while you may not have understood it, being a simple commoner yourself, you would have obliged to it and you would have been prepared for what was to come.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀so you sat there, letting the maids dress you for this auspicious night — draping you in this opulent red silk gown that swathed you gorgeously, your shoulders and chest exposed to the cool air that blew within your changing chambers. one of them was busy pinning your hair up into a stylish bun, adorned with flowers while the other was tinting your cheeks a lovely rosy hue and doing her best to find the perfect lip shade to complement your entire look.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀you should have been feeling beautiful and thrilled for this night. it was a night you had dreamt of for many moons. do not be fooled, it was not as if you and zuko had never been intimate at all — it just simply never crossed the line into making love（as he so sweetly put it.）he was not a man who followed every single custom of his nation but he had told you that the one thing he would adhere to was that of saving oneself until marriage because he believed it to be a sacred moment for the two of you to share only as husband and wife. and without a fuss, you agreed to his terms.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀but tonight, you were rattled with feelings not of excitement or anticipation. instead you were filled with dread. the maids were not oblivious to your nervous demeanour either and they did everything they could to reassure you, assuring you that this would be a wonderful shared experience for the both of you and that this would simply mark your newly appointed role as the nation's fire lady which was nothing short of a blessing. whilst you deeply appreciated it, their kind words did nothing to ease your jittering heart and the apprehension only bubbled up with each passing second.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"lady ꒰ y/n ꒱, we must leave for your chambers . ." one of the maids said in a quiet voice, holding out her hand for you to hold. reluctantly, you interlaced your fingers with hers, giving it a small squeeze to try to assuage yourself of the anxiety that coursed through your entire body. "all will be fine. it will be over quicker than you expect." those words were meant to be comforting but it just left a sinking feeling in your lower abdomen. what you thought would be a sweet, lovely and private night for the both of you seemed to be turning into a spectacle of sorts and it unnerved you more than anything ever had.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀they guided you down the grand halls which seemed to be closing in on you despite its grandiose nature. your bare feet echoed down the hall accompanied by your heavy, ragged breathing. your mind was consumed with thoughts of what was about to happen in the next few minutes. you wondered if all the fire ladies before you felt as uneasy as you were in this moment, trembling with fear upon thinking about the events that were meant to take place once the doors to the bedroom chambers were sealed shut. you wondered if maybe you were the only fire lady to be dreading this whole consummation . . which made you question your deference to the fire nation.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀after what felt like an eternity, you were finally at your chambers. two elderly sages stood right by the door, their expressions unreadable. no emotion behind those eyes. they truly saw this as nothing more than a ritual to be done with, not as something to be cherished between wife and husband.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀the maids scuttled away quickly, leaving you there with the two men. they eyed you up and down with disdain, a lump forming in your throat as they did so. one of them lifted their arm up and gestured towards the door standing before the three of you, silently ordering you to open it. your hands were shaking, knees nearly buckling at the thought of what was about to take place. but with a deep breath and a desire to please zuko, you pushed the aperture wide open.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀the first thing you heard was zuko's sweet voice calling you with that endearing nickname. "my dove!" he cooed, falling out the bed. "i was beginning to—" his words were cut off when he saw you walk in with worriment etched all over your features . . then followed by the two older fire sages walking closely behind you. he was now seething.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀before you or either of the men could take another step forward, his voice came out cold and bitter, "what is the meaning of all this?" the whole atmosphere in the room turned bleak, nobody daring to speak up against the fire lord. but his eyes pierced through to the sages' and they were ultimately forced to talk.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"my lord, you must know of the consummation tradition. two respected sages are meant to be present within the bedroom during coition. to be the witnesses. this must not be foreign to you, lord zuko. you—"

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"once again, i ask you what is the meaning of all of this?" his voice sliced through the tense air, making even your body go rigid at his tone. he rarely ever spoke in that manner and so you knew he was not going to let this slide easily.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"you firstly dare to patronise me. how shameful. i am more than aware about the wedding rituals of my nation. however, i very clearly remember speaking to you two earlier this week that this was not something i wished to put my wife through. do you remember?" zuko was striding slowly towards the sages, footsteps heavy and his eyes narrowed in anger. you swore you even saw steam rising from the top of his head.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"fire lord zuko . ." the older of the two stammered, doing his best to maintain composure under the frightening gaze of his superior. "we do remember our discussion. however, that simply goes against the traditions our great ancestors drew for us centuries before. it would be a disgrace if we were to suddenly change our customs, my lord."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"then let our ancestors besmirch my name." zuko said with conviction. "let them rage upon me for forsaking their awful customs. for wishing to live in accordance with my own beliefs. but they cannot besmirch the divine sanctity of my wife. i do not desire that my wife's loss of virginity become a spectacle to you or to our ancestors before. this consummation remains between me and her. and that is final."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀they tried to argue once again but the moment he bore his flames for them to see, burning furiously in the palm of his hands, they bowed and took their leave. once the doors shut, you collapsed to the floor, that dreaded weight finally being lifted off of you. you were overwhelmed, confused, grateful . . so many emotions flooded through you but you were instantly calmed when you felt your husband's arms around you, carrying you to the bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀his demeanour had shifted entirely. he was no longer heated（though you noticed the tiny flames that escaped his nostrils every time he exhaled.）he was now tending to you, removing the makeup off of your face with the most delicate hands. like he was afraid of breaking you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"i am so sorry." he mumbled as he wiped the rosy tint off your cheeks. "i lost my temper. and it has been a very long time since that has happened . . i was just so enraged that they would so blatantly disobey my wishes like that. to follow some ridiculous ritual that lets them see you at your most vulnerable. it is truly a disgusting mentality."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀before you could stop yourself, you were sobbing. your bottom lip quivered and hot tears streaked down your face. zuko immediately set down the bowl of water and towelette that he'd been using to wipe off your makeup and cupped your face in his hands with a touch so feather-like, you felt your heart swoon. "my angel." he whispered, swiping a tear away from your face. "are you okay?"

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"yes." you sniffled out. you held onto his arms, tugging him close to you and he knew that meant you wanted him to hold you in his arms. and so he did, gently pulling him into your embrace, caressing your hair and trailing kisses wherever he could on your skin. you continued to sob into his chest and he let you, whispering sweet nothings to you and telling you just how much he loved you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀you knew zuko did. he loved you so proudly, so openly, and so unconditionally. he was there to defend you against anyone and he was always thinking of you. this night, you were reminded of the very reason you had fallen for this man in the first place.

PUBLISHED BY BLUSHRYO 2026 ♥︎

[minayans]

Your daughter finds her father's journal after you both pass away.

Synopsis: You and Satoru's daughter finds her late father's journal after he passes away, just one year after you did.

(as a thank you to all 500 of u for supporting my silly works!! Love u all. )

Tags: Fluff, cute, kinda bittersweet so like angst with comfort. I'm sobbing, lovey dovey husband!satoru x wife!reader, established relationship (married), growing old and reminiscing, nostalgia is a bitch. Kind of canon au but he survives so canon divergence. Middle pic is someones oc but imagine its ur daughter

Spring is in full swing.

Beautiful vast yards of grass are covered in colorful flowers like a Claude Monet painting. Yuuka unlocks the front door to her childhood home nestled deep in the Tokyo mountains where the sun reaches first and the night greets last with quietness and star-covered skies.

The door swings open and dust welcomes her with a sorrowful package. Nostalgia and grief hitting her in that silent but heavy way. It's been one year since her father died and she hasn't had the courage to come back here.

Well, she hasn't really dared to visit as much either since her mother died too, two years ago.

But now, with a will that favor her and her children too much—Satoru having left her, his only daughter, his entire fortune including the house and all of his cherished antique cars—Yuuka can't hide from the place she grew up in anymore.

Her chest fills with old memories and a pressure that reminds her just how lonely it is without her parents. Yet, an undescribable warmth lingers on the surface of the abandoned house—inviting her in as if her mother was still there, waiting with arm's open at the end of the hall and her father trailing behind with his bright smile and light eyes, the same ones she has.

It's exactly how the remembers it. Wooden floorboards that started creaking somewhere along the years, a small foyer with a hanger, a dark oak console table that holds a colorful plate with keys that no longer have owners—and right next to it, frames.

Frames and frames of life.

Of her life.

And her parents' life.

She sees the first frame that she recognizes too well. Where she's on her father's shoulders at 4 years old and smiling as widely as her then-35-year-old father was.

White hair on white hair. Big toothy smiles (she was missing quite a few teeth, but that's not the point) and matching cerulean eyes. Nobody would dare to say she's not her father's twin.

Yuuka remembers you recounting the story anytime she'd ask about how you took the picture on the day of her father's birthday when you both surprised him at work with a birthday party.

The honeyed sound of her mother’s voice rings in her head and her throat starts to burn. She said she wouldn't cry as she can basically feel her dad saying from up there that his princess shouldn't cry, but she can't push back the first streak from falling down her face.

Another frame shows you and Satoru on a sunflower field. His large hands that can could cause irreversible damage to the world softly curved and gently holding his world as he cups your then 6 month bump from behind.

Then holding his world. Head dipped and snuggled into your shoulder where he was pressing fragile kisses to, Satoru made you giggle at the exact moment the picture snapped and your smiling and glowing figure was recorded forever.

His daughter remembers him boast about the picture and how much he loved it. She can see why. You look radiant in it.

The next frame is the largest one. It's importance needing to be pronounced because it's the grounds for this house and her own existence.

Your wedding portrait.

This year, Yuuka knows you would've celebrated your 60th anniversary with Satoru. But in the picture, back then, you were just 26. Young and still as beautiful as you were in your last moments.

All kind eyes and soft smiles wearing a white dress that looked made for you. A lively bouquet of flowers in your hands, with the same kind of delicate petals she'd grown to favor through the years.

Satoru was on your right.

Supposed to be looking at the camera.

But he wasn't.

He was looking at you. Unable to rip his eyes from his then-bride as you looked straight ahead onto the lens. Lips slightly parted and head lowered to you, Satoru looked like he was starstruck.

And Yuuka could see how much he loved you then.

And she saw how much he loved you till his last breath.

Even when you were no longer with him.

Her father's spirit is recorded in every corner of the house.

Past the entrance hall there is an open old-fashioned kitchen to the left that is a sore sight for her knowing that three years ago she would've walked in to see you—with your weak bones and wrinkled skin—cooking and jumping at the sight of her visiting.

On the right there is a vast living room with an outdated TV you both sentimentally refused to allow your daughter to change, and a couch that has lived longer than her.

Where she spent a lot of time on. Play fighting with her dad, watching movies with friends as a teenager, screaming when she got into her dream college, crying when she announced her pregnancy to her parents.

Her life is in this house.

And far back is the master bedroom where you slept with your husband.

Yuuka's steps are hesitant as she draws near the entrace. The door creaks open with an ear-splitting screech.

She's met with the sight it always had. A comically large bed as her father was 6 feet 3 and never slept a day without her mother. Two nightstands filled with more pictures to the brim, some of her but most of them.

Polaroids glued to the wall from more than 60 years ago—from back when her parents were still dating—a walk-in closet her father hand built and designed for his wife as he knew they would have no place to keep the gifts he spoiled her with.

And a small entrance in the roof that leads up to the attic where Yuuka has rarely ever been in.

That catches her attention like a moth to a flame. She's tall enough now—being 180 and allowing her to catch some modeling gigs as a teenager—she easily pulls down the trap door and attached stairs come down as well.

At 60, with her kids well into adulthood, her knees hurt just a bit as she climbs the stairs. And up in the attic she's met with so much dust it's hard to breathe.

Her lungs beg for release so she cracks a window open in the roof which illuminates the space for her to finally see and not be engulfed in darkness.

Boxed stacked on top of boxed is pretty much all there is save for a few pieces of old furniture you've both replaced sometime.

There are labels named with your handwriting on every piece of cardboard.

"Wedding pictures, 2019."

"Honeymoon pictures, 2019."

"Yuuka, 2020~2040."

"Y/N L/N, 2014-2018." Of when you were dating her father, not yet married.

"Y/N Gojo, 2019-2076." In Satoru's messy handwriting. He must have made your box once you passed away.

A small smile places itself on Yuuka's lips as she eyes how much bigger the box of your belongings as Y/N Gojo is. Knowing how much Satoru loved to spoil you.

She's about to open the box from your youth when a small, new-looking box catches her eyes.

It's yellow, sealed around the edges, with a different label on the front. And as she pulls the strangely light, seemingly empty box closer to her, she notices the different handwriting.

Oh.

It's her father's box.

"Satoru Gojo, 2014-2077."

Her heart aches at the slightly faded ink.

Satoru died in 2078.

But he stopped living when you did.

So in 2077 his life ended.

He must have stayed only for her and his nephews.

Now, as she stares at the box, the memories of her father's tense smile—not at all how it used to be—in his last year cloud her mind and a sob rips free from her chest.

Hooking her shaky fingers around the sides, she tugs the tape off and opens the the box to find it almost empty—only a worn out journal in the middle.

"My angel." Is written in the middle in cleaner but still recognisable as her late-fathers handwriting.

Her mouth falls open at the sight. The spine threatens to split as she picks up the overstuffed, yellow paged pages.

For a second, she hesitates.

It's a diary after all.

She's not supposed to see this.

But she can't help it.

Gently, she peels open the wrinkled book to see the first page.

She imagines her father's voice booming through the attic as he reads.

January 14th, 2018.

Hello future me! My beautiful beautiful beautiful amazing wife (we aren't married yet but we will be) (i already bought the ring, she doesn't know yet hihi <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>) said that I should not post so much about my life on facebook because it's dangerous and something about digital footprint as if i know what that's about.

Anyway, I did kind of listen to her and stopped for a while.

But then my lovely wife saw how sad I got and she bought me this journal! She even engraved out initials in the back!

Yuuka flips the diary to indeed find your initials pressed into the leather on the back.

She continues reading.

So I'm going to start writing even though it is probably not going to be as satisfying as Megumi, Yuji and Nobara (Nanami sometimes) commenting on my amazing facebook posts.

Anyway, Y/N is making cake and I can't let her whisk anything as the great husband I am so bye!

February 1st, 2018.

Guess who is engaged? Guess who said "I do!"? My wife!!!!!!! My fiancee. I am getting married. I feel like a little kid who got his favorite candy. I was so nervous like it took me back to when Yaga would catch me Shoko and Suguru doing something wrong.

Y/N is really happy with her ring and I gotta admit, I nailed it.

Can't wait to see her in a white dress and then make a family. Love my wife so much.

June 26th, 2018.

When did my little kids become so big ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ? We won against the Kyoto sister school today since well, long story short we got attacked a few days ago blah bla blah so we decided on a match of baseball! And I knew I trained the kids well because we absolutely destroyed Kyoto! Am I not just great?

Still at work right now, have my diary locked in my secret drawer with candies. Miss my wife so much (´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠). I wonder if she'll let me sleep on her in the bathtub again today. She said she couldn’t breathe because I'm too heavy. I am not heavy! I work hard for these muscles, I'm jacked and she knows it. (⁠个⁠_⁠个⁠) Can't wait to go home.

July 4th, 2018.

Nobara is at it again with her shopping shenanigans, Yuji just called me saying he physically can't handle carrying her bags anymore. I told him to man up and carry them. My sweet Y/N has never carried a single bag, paid for anything or opened a single door in my presence. Maybe I should just make a robot that opens and does things for her when I'm not around.

Or I should just quit my job and be with her 24/7!

She's been so stressed lately with so many wedding preparations. I mean I help, and I try to relieve her stress with my amazing methods but it doesn't seem to be working. She's been forgetting to eat her meals and I'm worried. I think she's putting too much pressure on herself. I don't want her to change anything about herself for the wedding. I'd marry her tomorrow if it meant i could have her now.

But she wants a ceremony, says it's every little girl's dream. So i comply. I'll try making her something tonight. Or just pick up the macarons she likes. Yeah.

July 21st, 2018.

My wife has just brushed me off because she says she has to go try on wedding dresses! Am I the asshole if I don't want a ceremony anymore? Just give me my wifeeeeee! This is crucifying. Painful. My heart hurts.

Also, she banned me from coming with her. I want to see the dresses too... Why does Utahime get to go but I don't? I'm tired of this. I'm bored. Maybe I should ask Nanami for help. I do need to get my suit... and my shoes... and get a haircut—it's kind of early for that... Y/N gets a little feral when I cut my hair and I don't think she wants a baby at our wedding.

Oh i could start thinking of baby names!

Yuuka's face scrunches up at her father's words.

August 17th, 2018.

I am actually not as committed to this, but at the same time I am yk? Anyway, today we got a wedding cake sample taster thingy! We got it from Nanami's girlfriend, she has a bakery. It was a huge cake with each slice a different flavor, it was amazing. Me and Y/N saw the gates of heaven. I'm glad we agreed that Chocolate and cookies and cream mouse is going to be our cake, its our wedding and we eat what we want to! It's amazing getting married to your soulmate like Y/N is so amazing we had the same opinions on every single slice. Like the lemon tart was awful, well, not literally. But for a wedding cake? I felt a shiver go down my wife's spine.

Anyway, I do want the ceremony again. For now, as my precious angel gets ready for the big day, I'm planning the honeymoon. It's going to be epic. Thinking of Italy, greece, or maybe a retreat in the moutains. She likes quiet places. Said we should have a house up high.

Maybe I should make her a house as a wedding gift! Ooh~ Can i get that done in 4 months..?

October 7th, 2018.

Told the wifey I was out for a business trip—and I am! Sorta. Me and Nanami are looking for land (i am paying for his "overtime" →⁠_⁠→ but he's been really helpful so...). Feeling a bit bad for lying to Y/N... Will prob tell her the truth after the house is built. I've found out it will be done earliest (unfurnished, but I'll leave her to decorate it) by March.

And feeling really bad because I'm away from her! Just one more day and I'll be home! Wedding soon!

November 19th, 2018.

T minus 5 days till our wedding!!!! I'm getting married! Wonder what Suguru is thinking of it. Wish he were here. As my best man.

November 23rd, 2018.

It's tomorrow.

Tomorrow I marry the love of my life. The woman that has held me through the good and bad without needing vows. Speaking of vows, I'm nervous to say them. Needed a lot of help from Shoko to put my love for Y/N into words. I wonder how she feels because she's Y/N's maid of honor as her bsf passed away not long ago. I guess me and my wifey have lost a lot together. We are still together tho. Perfect for each other.

I can't wait to see her tomorrow. I am going to cry I'm saying it now. Recording it for wifey to see it someday. I know myself. She also said she knows I'll cry. I will. Can't wait. I probably won't be able to sleep tonight. I hope Y/N doesn't feel my heartbeat going insane.

I'm getting married!!

February 1st, 2019.

Help, I forgot to update for a while. Today is our one year engagement anniversary. Was on my honeymoon... if you need a reminder, Satoru, check your camera hihi. Anyway, my lovely baby is having a baby! We're pregnant! Well, she is. I don't get why people say that. I'm rethinking that idea of making her a robot that helps around since I'm still working. Either way, Y/N is so so so pretty with her two month bump, we'll know the gender next week. I am soooooo excited. But i know we are having a girl so i guess it's no fun.

I'm not going to tell her i saw it with my six eyes... but i knew way before too! I knew it was a girl since day one!

Can't wait till she finds out. My wife. Yep im a husband, almost father. She looked mesmerizing, like nothing i could have ever imagined on our wedding btw. Yes, i cried. And im still the manliest man and strongest man she knows. I love you so much, Y/N.

February 30th, 2019.

Hi Satoru's diary, it's your wife. You ran out after i muttered the words "I lowkey would go insane for some doritos and vanilla ice cream right now." And left this for me to find on your desk while i napped. I'm sure you didn't want me to find out about this, i haven't read anything i promise. Maybe the first line on page one before starting to sob. Your daughter is making me really moody. I hope you're already thinking of baby names.

I love you so much, Satoru. You have no no no idea at all. You're the light in my day, the reason behind my smiles, the motive behind the stars in my eyes. You're my everything and I'm so glad I married someone so perfect as you. We have had our arguments and downs, but look at us! 6 months away from being parents! Who would've thought? 2012 me would've been screaming crying and throwing up over the fact that I'm having a baby with my senior crush!! Okay cutie I think I hear ur footsteps, love you so much bye bye. Kisses, love.

-your wife.

August 8th, 2019.

Baby Yuuka is here! Welcome to the world my little princess, you are already so loved. Uncle Nanami is currently holding you with the softest look on his face, it's actually scary. His wife wants a go at holding you too but I'm pretty sure I can see the cogs in his head turning and I'm pretty sure he wants one now too. Slow down, Nanamin, you've been married for three months (we made Yuuka on our honeymoon).

Your mother looks gorgeous. Tired? Yes. But so bright. I'm giving your aunt five minutes until I kick everyone out so your mom can sleep and I can take care of you.

You are a NICU baby in case you didn't know, Stressed the living life out of me and your mom when you came out half-dead. The world went quiet when you were in intensive care. We weren't well. It was the scariest thing in the world.

I almost lost my wife. We have agreed to not have any more children. But I'm certain that you will be more than enough for us. Why am I already starting to cry at the thought of you leaving for college and getting married?! You're barely a day old!

Anyway, thank you to my wife for giving me the best gift in the world. I love you, Y/N.

December 7th, 2019.

Yuuka's little babbles are the cutest thing ever help my heart is melting. It's my birthday! I'm 30... thirty and flirty! (Only with my wife.). Y/N got me a vintage record player! And all of my favorite songs! Mornings have just updated, will blast Mine by Bazzi and sing my soul out to my dearest tomorrow!!!

Sweetheart is tired, her milk ducts keep getting clogged, Yuuka is a pretty fussy baby. I try to stay up and massage her tense shoulders, she passes out in the tub while I wash her hair. It's so cute. I remember when I used to be the one falling asleep on her. Well, now the perks of being the strongest come in handy!

January 3rd, 2020.

First Christmas with a baby and first New Year done! Apparently...Nanami is having a baby too... what a Christmas present... I got a Christmas present like that too... Is he copying me..? Me and Y/N are dropping off the little princess at her grandparents to go and visit our friends. Been a while, need to update Suguru about how my daughter is crawling.

January 14th, 2020.

Was looking at the calendar today and I was like"I feel like today is something important." And it is! Been journaling for two years now! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠) Re-read my entries and found out my darling wrote one! She's so adorable l love her so much I'm going to explode.

Yuuka is a clingy adorable baby, her mom calls her a velcro baby. I secretly hope her first words are dada and i sometimes teach her how to say it, hopefully Y/N doesn't see this oups. Anyway, speaking of my wife. She looks so good I just want to—

Modern-day Yuuka slams the book closed before her eyes catch the next words. With tears running down her cheeks, she decides she's invaded her father's privacy enough.

There's a whole thousand of pages to read, history of more than 60 years in them.

But what lies inside are secrets between you and Satoru.

Moment's she's not supposed to remember and that's fine.

Her chest is still tight with longing and ache.

She's never missed her parents so much.

The clean smell of fresh linen and softener her mother always eluded.

The feeling of her feet dangling in the air when her father would pick her up in a hug.

Or the comforting taste of mom's kikufiku she'd mastered because her husband adored it.

It's all so beautiful.

The love you both shared.

A love so deep it birthed her.

A love so deep it raised a child.

A child who years to go back to simpler times.

She understands now when you both acted like cringy teenagers even in your forties.

And she used to be embarrassed about it.

About her parents being so in love.

But now, a mother herself.

She understands it so much.

And she's so happy you are together now.

As much as she misses you both.

Yuuka is happy you're both reunited.

Watching over her.

Back to my roots (fluff). Hi <3

This was in my drafts alr written but im waiting on the poll results for my next clear out. Looks like suguru and scarjo(mylove) are coming back!!

[kittennextdoor]

18+ big men who let you ride their abs.

Your boyfriend was built like a god — broad shoulders, thick arms, and rock-hard abs that flexed under your palms every time he moved.

Tonight, he was lying on his back in bed, watching you with dark, hungry eyes as you straddled his waist. You were already soaked, and instead of sinking down and fucking him, you slowly dragged your dripping pussy across his abs.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned, hands gripping your hips as you started grinding on him.

The hard ridges of his abs felt incredible against your clit. Every roll of your hips made your slick folds slide over the deep grooves of muscle, the friction perfect and filthy. You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his massive chest for leverage as you rode his abs harder.

He flexed them beneath you on purpose, making the ridges even more pronounced. The wet sounds of your pussy gliding over his skin filled the room as you moaned, grinding your swollen clit against the hard planes of his stomach.

“Look at you,” he rasped, voice low and rough. “Using my abs like your own personal toy. So fucking wet for me.”

You whimpered, moving faster, chasing that pressure. Every time you rolled your hips forward, your clit caught perfectly on the ridges, sending sparks through your whole body. His hands guided you, helping you grind down harder as your juices smeared all over his sculpted stomach.

“That’s it, ride me,” he growled, eyes locked on where your pussy was sliding messily over his abs. “Make yourself cum all over me.”

The combination of his voice and the relentless friction finally pushed you over the edge. You came hard, thighs shaking as you ground down against his abs, soaking his stomach with your release.

He groaned at the sight, pulling you down for a deep kiss while you were still trembling on top of him. “Next time,” he murmured against your lips, “you’re doing that on my face.”

[andy-15-07]

Tea With Grandpa Iroh

pairing — Zuko x reader

word count — 1962

request open

masterlist

Iroh took tea very seriously.

Izumi discovered this at age sixteen, though honestly she should have known it already.

The first clue was the way he set the kettle on the stove as though preparing for a sacred rite. The second was the pile of carefully measured tea leaves arranged in front of him in neat little bowls. The third was the expression on his face when he saw her step into the sitting room and announced, with great calm, “Today, we will make tea properly.”

Izumi stopped in the doorway.

Then she glanced toward the couch where Zuko and Y/N were seated with the relaxed expressions of parents who had clearly been told to stay out of it and were pretending not to be entertained.

“I was told,” Izumi said carefully, “that this was an informal lesson.”

Iroh clasped his hands behind his back. “That depends entirely on your definition of informal.”

Zuko leaned toward Y/N and muttered, “She is already doomed.”

Y/N hid a smile behind your hand.

Izumi gave her father a flat look. “I heard that.”

“Good,” Zuko said, not at all repentant. “It’s educational.”

Iroh turned toward the tea table again, completely unbothered by everyone else’s commentary. He had retired years ago from military life, but he still moved with the calm authority of a man who had once led soldiers and now chose to lead by grace instead. His hair was silver at the temples now, his posture a little slower than it had been when Izumi was small, but his eyes were still warm and sharp and far more dangerous than anyone expected when he decided to be wise.

He gestured to the cushion opposite him. “Sit.”

Izumi obeyed.

Then he handed her the teapot.

She stared at it. “Now?”

“Now.”

“I thought there would be instructions first.”

“There are.”

“That is not reassuring.”

Iroh smiled. “Good. Comfort too early can make one careless.”

Zuko coughed discreetly into his fist. “That sounds familiar.”

Iroh glanced at him. “You were a difficult student.”

Zuko raised his brows. “I was a very serious student.”

“You were an impatient student.”

“I was both.”

Y/N’s smile widened. “He absolutely was.”

Izumi looked between the three of them with immediate suspicion. “Why does no one ever speak of Father’s lessons without looking entertained?”

Zuko folded his arms. “Because Uncle enjoys embarrassing me.”

“I enjoy reminding you,” Iroh corrected, “that patience is a skill, not a weakness.”

Izumi stared at the tea set in front of her with the intensity of someone preparing for a military exam.

She took a breath. “All right. Teach me.”

Iroh nodded once. “Good. First, the water.”

He pointed her toward the kettle.

She lifted it with both hands, careful and precise, and poured the water over the tea leaves in the pot. Her movements were controlled, her face very serious, her brow slightly furrowed.

Zuko watched from the couch with a sort of anxious pride that made Y/N smile.

“She looks like she is about to negotiate a treaty,” you murmured.

“She does everything like that,” Zuko replied.

“That is because she takes after you.”

He turned to you. “That is an insult.”

“It is not.”

“I think it is.”

Across the room, Iroh said, “Not too fast, Izumi.”

She froze immediately. “I wasn’t fast.”

“You were thinking about being fast.”

That startled her into a small laugh. “How can you tell?”

“The tea knows.”

Zuko shut his eyes briefly as if suffering through a memory only he could feel. “That is exactly what you used to say to me.”

Iroh looked very pleased. “And you hated it.”

“I still do.”

“And yet you learned.”

Izumi’s gaze flicked toward her father. “Did he really hate tea lessons?”

Zuko opened one eye. “I did not hate the tea lessons.”

Iroh lifted a brow. “You hated the tea lessons.”

“I hated the moral implications of being corrected by tea.”

Y/N laughed outright at that, and Izumi’s mouth twitched despite herself.

The room had the kind of warmth that lived only in family spaces. Sunlight filtered through the high windows. The faint scent of mint and jasmine drifted from the kettle. One of the palace attendants had brought in a plate of small cakes, though no one had touched them yet because Iroh had declared that tea preparation required “one’s full attention” and everyone else had been pretending to believe him.

Izumi carefully added the tea leaves and glanced up. “How much should I use?”

“Enough,” Iroh said.

She stared. “That is not a measurement.”

“It is for tea.”

Zuko, unable to resist, said, “He told me that exact same thing when I was your age.”

Izumi turned to him. “Did you ask the same question?”

He gave her a long look. “Worse. I asked why I needed to wait for the water to cool.”

Iroh chuckled. “And I told you patience improves flavor.”

“Which I found insulting.”

“You were insulted by everything then.”

“I still am.”

That made Y/N grin. “He is being modest. He was more offended by tea than by most political meetings.”

Izumi looked scandalized. “Father.”

He gave her a helpless shrug. “I was a teenager.”

“Grandpa Iroh,” she said, turning back to her uncle with grave seriousness, “did you also say things like that?”

“Of course,” Iroh said. “And your father rolled his eyes every time.”

Zuko muttered, “Because you made it sound like tea held the secrets of the universe.”

Iroh’s face brightened. “It does.”

Izumi’s expression suggested she had already accepted that this lesson was going to be strange.

She poured the tea into two cups, carefully matching the color as Iroh had instructed. Then she looked up with suspicion. “Why are there two cups?”

“Because one is for testing,” Iroh said.

“And the other?”

“Is for drinking.”

“That seems obvious.”

“Tea is rarely obvious.”

Zuko leaned back and folded his arms. “That is also what he said when I was learning sword forms.”

Y/N glanced at him. “You have compared tea to sword forms?”

“I did not. He did.”

Iroh nodded solemnly. “There are similarities.”

Izumi looked alarmed. “There are?”

“Control,” Iroh said. “Balance. Timing. A willingness to start over if one makes a mistake.”

Her expression changed then, growing more focused. She held the teacup in both hands and looked down at it as though it were suddenly a firebending drill with steam instead of flame.

Iroh noticed, of course. “Ah,” he said softly. “You are approaching this like a challenge.”

Izumi blinked. “Shouldn’t I?”

“Only if you want tea to win.”

That won a small laugh from her.

Zuko glanced at Y/N with a look that was part affection, part disbelief. “She is actually taking this very seriously.”

“She takes everything seriously,” you said.

“That is true.”

Across the room, Iroh lifted one cup and took a deliberate sip. He closed his eyes for a moment, then smiled.

Izumi straightened. “Well?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her kindly. “Your patience was better than your first attempt. The tea is a little strong, but not bad.”

Izumi’s shoulders eased by a tiny fraction. “That is not a glowing review.”

“It is for a first cup.”

She glanced at the tea in her hands, then at Zuko. “How bad was Father’s first cup?”

Zuko immediately sat up straighter. “Uncle.”

Iroh’s expression became delightfully serious. “He used almost twice the amount of leaves he should have, boiled the water too hot, and then insisted the flavor was ‘fine’ because admitting otherwise would have been humiliating.”

Izumi stared at her father.

Zuko looked directly at the ceiling. “I am being slandered.”

“You were unbearable,” Iroh said.

Y/N nearly choked on a laugh.

Izumi, now far more interested in this than the tea, pointed carefully. “Did you throw a fit?”

Zuko looked at his daughter with the exhausted dignity of a man who had made peace with the fact that his childhood was apparently now public property. “I questioned the principles of tea.”

Izumi’s lips parted in horror. “You what?”

“I was thirteen.”

“That is such a terrible age to be insufferable,” she said, appalled.

Zuko stared at her for a second and then burst into quiet laughter.

That changed everything.

The room, which had been full of concentration only moments before, softened into family noise,the sound of Zuko laughing, Y/N smiling into your tea, Iroh shaking his head with a look of affectionate victory, Izumi trying and failing not to grin at the absurdity of all of them.

After a while, she settled again and asked, “Why is tea so important to you?”

The question was casual, but it made the room go quieter.

Iroh set down his cup and looked at her with unmistakable warmth. “Because it requires presence.”

Izumi considered that.

He continued, “When one makes tea, one cannot rush it and still expect it to become what it should be. One must pay attention. Be patient. Respect the process.”

Her gaze drifted toward Zuko for just a second.

He noticed.

She looked back to Iroh and said, a little more softly, “That sounds like firebending.”

“It is,” Iroh said. “And it is also life.”

Zuko’s expression had gone quietly thoughtful. He knew what the lesson really was. Not just tea. Not just patience. Something broader. Something he had spent years trying to give his daughter in one form or another: discipline without fear, confidence without arrogance, tradition without cruelty.

Izumi looked down into her cup and let the steam warm her face.

Then she asked, “Did Father ever get it right?”

Iroh’s smile turned a little sly. “Eventually.”

Zuko groaned. “That was too easy.”

“It was true.”

Izumi looked between them and then at Y/N. “Did he always act like this?”

Y/N’s smile was soft now. “Only when he was trying not to admit he cared very much.”

Zuko gave you a wounded look. “You are all conspiring against me.”

“Yes,” you said easily. “Because it is fun.”

Izumi laughed again, and the sound seemed to ease something in Zuko’s face. He watched his daughter in the warm light, sitting straight-backed with the solemnity she used for all things important, and for a moment he could not help but think how much of himself had gone into her and how much better she was already at carrying it.

Iroh must have seen it too, because he leaned back and said softly, “She is listening better than you did.”

Zuko exhaled. “That is unfair.”

“It is accurate.”

Izumi lifted the teacup carefully and took a sip.

Everyone watched.

Then she blinked once, considered, and said, “It is good.”

Iroh’s face lit with quiet pride. “It is.”

She looked down at the cup again, then gave a tiny nod as if sealing the judgment. “I want to try again.”

Zuko smiled before he could stop himself.

Iroh pushed the next kettle toward her. “Then we will do it again.”

And so they did.

The lesson stretched longer than Izumi expected, and perhaps longer than anyone else needed, but no one rushed her. She measured the leaves again. She handled the water more carefully. She listened this time not because she had to, but because she wanted the tea to become something worth having. Worth sharing.

By the end, she had made a cup she accepted with a serious, approving look.

Zuko took one taste and raised his brows. “Better.”

Izumi’s mouth curved. “Obviously.”

Y/N laughed.

Iroh smiled.

And Zuko, watching his daughter sit straighter with the pride of a girl who had just mastered something small but sacred, felt the strange and beautiful certainty that this was how generations passed.

Not through crowns.

Not through titles.

Through patience. Through tea. Through love. Through one quiet lesson at a time.

[retisaint]

what it’s like to be in a secret relationship with satoru. mdni.

you never intended to keep your romantic relationship with satoru a secret from the people you know, especially to your close friends.

breaking the news to them had obviously crossed your mind already. but things happened: shoko and utahime moved to a different city right after their engagement, suguru became extremely busy managing his newly opened cafe downtown, sukuna is on a tournament for professional boxing, and yuki seems to be touring the world (she’s always on vacation!).

planning hangouts with the entire friend group in attendance became elusive. everyone’s schedule just cannot seem to align; one or two people are always unavailable due to schedules set weeks prior.

before you knew it, months had passed. then months turned into a year.

of course, you still have regular communication with one another. you would sometimes come and watch sukuna’s boxing fights in your spare time then drink the night away afterward at his place with other mutual friends. satoru would be there as well. and when it isn’t so busy during the day, suguru would temporarily entrust the cafe to his staffs to meet the both of you over lunch.

aside from that, it has also been a part of your weekly routine to have a video call with the girls to gossip and talk about any happenings from your lives. yes, you could’ve mentioned it during one of the calls, but it just didn’t feel the right way to do so. 

what you and satoru have is not just a fling nor a friends-with-benefits setup. thus, announcing it in person felt imperative. after all, you both share the same close friends so this affects the dynamics of your circle.

though you’d be lying if you say you don’t enjoy the secrecy of your relationship—disappearing from sukuna’s house parties to have a sloppy make out session with satoru in the bathroom, or him sneaking a kiss on your cheek whenever you are on the phone with the girls; he would always wait patiently next to you on his couch, and once your face is slightly out of view from the screen… smooch!

caught off guard, you would turn your camera off and glare at him, but the moron had already run off with a big smile on his face, followed by silent giggles (since your mic is still on) like he had just successfully pulled off a high-risk task.

yes, you like the intimacy of a secret relationship. how you and satoru share the same truth only you can touch. there is a certain thrill that could never be experienced in an ordinary relationship, and you found it to be quite addicting.

one time, suguru pointed out how you and satoru would often arrive at the meet up place together. always coming from the same direction at the same time, he said. you just shrugged off and feigned innocence by calling it a mere coincidence.

later on while enjoying the meal, satoru sneakily moved his hand under the table to caress your thigh underneath the dress, as if teasing you for how you spouted a white lie off your mouth so naturally. he drew slow and lazy circles over your soft skin as he simultaneously talked to suguru in front.

satoru did it in such a casual manner, not even sparing you a look, and thus, he was oblivious about the redness on your cheeks and the brewing desire in your core. you pressed his fingers, a signal for him to stop, but all you got from your boyfriend was a quick glance and a mocking smirk. 

soon after, you excused yourself to go to the restroom; he then followed the lead saying, he just needs to make a phone call. 

and there in the cramped restroom cubicle, satoru pulled his slacks and boxers down, clung your thigh over his arm, and pulled your underwear to the side. the way he did it was so abrupt and impatient you swore you heard a thread snap from your lace thong. 

he fucked you with much eagerness and gentle frustration; you can tell that he, too, was craving for your body just as you were craving for his—as if the pretense that afternoon had been too unbearable and all he wanted was to be all over his girlfriend.

you held onto satoru’s shoulders for support, gave his neck wet kisses as he pulled his massive cock in and out of you. the tissue dispenser mounted on the partition next to you rattled from how hard he was thrusting into your wet and tight pussy. squelching sounds and your breathy moans fused with the distant indiscernible chatter from customers filled up the space.

sure, the thrill of it was fun and exciting. but enough time has gone by. and both of you are growing tired of treading the line between secrecy and passion. satoru wants to share his love for you to other people. he craves of being able to hold your hand in the streets—when you’re walking alongside each other—without the fear that a mutual friend might see. he wants to take you out on a date at his favorite fancy restaurants, not just to the hole-in-the-wall cafes. the takeouts at his place were also just as fun because it’s always followed by rough sex on his bed. but. but. satoru yearns for more. he wants to flaunt you, his oh so lovely girlfriend.

you have this pure and honest love resting on the palm of your hands—still growing and vulnerable—and a voice inside your head wants you to keep it hidden. it whispers in your ear telling you to just leave things as they are; no one can ruin something they have no knowledge about. but the better part of you knows that a relationship shadowed by limitations would never prosper and last. what you feel for satoru doesn’t have to be loud—it only has to be free.

and so you’ve made up your mind.

shoko and utahime’s wedding will be held today and it’s your chance. of course you don’t want to steal the thunder from the soon-to-be newlyweds, so you plan to do it tomorrow, during the post-wedding lunch with the close friends. everyone—shoko, utahime, yuki, suguru, and sukuna—will be there and you refuse to let this opportunity pass.

the first thing you notice as you enter the bride suite is the makeup lined up on the vanity tables—liquid foundations in different shades, eyeshadow palettes from multiple brands, and lipsticks in every possible shade imaginable. and there–sitting in one of the vanity chairs—is your best friend utahime. you read the word written on the back of her chair—in white font and a beautiful cursive it says ‘bride’. you see her smile from the mirror reflection.

you ask if she’s nervous. utahime just shakes her head; she says she’s never been more sure about anything ever in her life.

you hate to admit it but you are a sucker for weddings. the abundance of love radiating from everybody never fails to make you emotional. friends and families. friends turned into families. celebrating the union between two people. the wedding vows. the lengthy speeches during the reception. they collectively pull the lever to your fountain of tears.

when it is your turn to have your makeup done, you sit at one of the unoccupied vanity chairs. the future newlyweds went all out and hired four hair and makeup artists so the preparation is more efficient.

minutes later, as the artist is applying eyeshadow on your lids, you hear a familiar ringtone.

your ringtone.

yuki, whose makeup is already finished, grabs your phone from a nearby couch and looks at the screen. “someone is calling you- who is this ‘my love’?” she asks with an inquisitive tone.

shit. shit. shit.

why is satoru calling you? and now when you are currently glued to the vanity chair, defenseless against the possible scrutiny from your girl friends. your eyes remain closed as the artist continues on her work; you can’t tell where yuki is standing. 

grabbing the phone from her hand is impossible. you’re fucked. no. maybe you can reason your way around it. before your brain could even make up a weak excuse, yuki had already answered the call and set your phone on speaker.

you feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as you hear the voice of your satoru. “baby, you forgot your heels in the car. should i bring it to you?” you held your breath. you feel your insides getting twisted. it’s as if your brain has short-circuited; words, excuses, start to hover around your head like a murder of crows—cawing, awaiting for a release that never came.

and just like that, the secret is out. getting busted out about your year-long relationship with satoru through an unsuspecting phone call wasn’t the plan, but here goes nothing.

only the clank of makeup brushes can be heard as the artists remain impassive on what is happening. you bite your bottom lip. there is no way in hell that your friends would not recognize his voice.

the moment they connect the dot and register it in their head—the contact name and the man in the other line—collective gasps echo from different parts of the room.

“what the fuck, gojo? is that you?” yuki’s high pitched voice almost makes you wince.

“uhh. . . haha. . .” he clears his throat. “no, who is gojo satoru?”

“jackass! she didn’t even say satoru,” utahime interjects.

“wait, t-the signal here is bad,” you hear indistinct shuffling noises in satoru’s background, “h-hello? can you hear me? he-”

and the call ends.

you sense the piercing glares from your friends, “you have got some explaining to do,” said utahime.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine facing Zuko after the Ember Island play revealed your secrets…

The cheering crowd faded behind you. Your mind flashed with images as you exited the theatre with as much composure possible.

Chains. The smell of fire. A cruel laugh that crept into your dreams. The taste of your blood when you answered a question that was always rigged against you.

You ran out onto the patio, leaned over the railing and emptied your dinner into the bushes below. It was too much. The Ember Island retelling of Zuko’s betrayal and your secret torture beneath the palace while in captivity… it was an echo in your body that you couldn’t stomach without reliving every detail.

Wiping your mouth with the sleeves of your top, you took deep breaths to quell the tremble in your body. You wanted to cry. Your body begged for an emotional release but it risked your Fire Nation disguise. You had to hold it together until you were behind safer doors.

Quiet footsteps approached but you recognised Zuko’s energy in the dark. He leaned against the railing and stared at the sky and its cloudless sky.

A cup pressed itself into your hands and, looking down, you saw that it was filled with water. Carefully, you took a few sips to help with the dehydration that was no doubt working its way through you. Once you were finished, you held it in your hands and leaned against the wood to take in the fresh air.

“You’ve had night terrors ever since we left the Fire Nation. When I asked you about what happened, you never told me the full truth.” Zuko stated, disbelief in his tone.

You didn’t look at him so you frowned at a passing couple who were blissfully unaware of your presence. “You can’t seriously be mad at me?”

Zuko took in a deep breath and exhaled. He had been practicing the technique to manage his temper, an ‘Avatar’ technique from Aang. “A small part of me is upset that you never told me. Another part is furious with myself for not stopping it.”

You focused on the wide stretch of beach. The calm water lapped at the shore in a gentle motion, somehow unwinding your own tension. “You didn’t know.”

“That makes it worse.” Zuko immediately countered.

A silence fell over you both. You had nothing to say because there was a small part of you that agreed. This play uncovered too many truths, too many tragedies, that you tried to hide and wrapped it into a twisted comedy. The dialogue was littered with false information but there were hints of fact that could only have been supplied by your tormentors.

“How many times have you regretted falling in love with me?” The question was so jarring that you turned to Zuko quickly. Dizziness washed over you but you focused on the prince as he asked again. “How many times? Be honest.”

Regret and love should never have fallen in the same sentence and yet here Zuko was placing them in a question. You had the most reason to regret, the spirit guides probably expected you to, but as you thought back through your history - there was anger, peace, sadness, joy… but never that.

“I could never regret loving you. You have been extraordinary in ways I can’t begin to describe.” You answered. “Yes, there were moments when you struggled or lapsed into old ways but they were temporary. If I had to repeat it - go through all the pain - again, I… mmphf!”

Lips. His lips had claimed your mouth and swallowed your next words. The cup fell from your hands, clattered on the ground before rolling away. Zuko had kissed you before but this - it felt different.

It was a soothing heat that cleared your mind and settled your nausea. It was an apology for everything that he failed to be for you. It was a promise to be better - worthy - of your heart and to never let the past repeat in any lifetime shared. Your hands found his chest and gripped his tunic hard, melting into his touch.

He let you come up for air but kissed your jaw before giving you some space. The glow of his eyes never wavered or dimmed. They were a golden sun - warm, constant, and essential.

You were out of words but Zuko seemed to know exactly how to respond. He pulled you forward and leaned close.

“Let’s find you some food.” He whispered, nuzzling against you. A laugh tumbled out of you for the first time that evening and you were more certain than ever - Zuko was everything except regret.

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: writing angst at 12am hits different. I’m actually so happy with how this unravelled.

[thepeaklegendoffirstgen]

NERDHAN HEADCANONS

Nerdhan, despite his towering stature and immense strength, is incredibly shy when he first walks into class, a student joining classes so late into the academic year. The entire class stares, but he only quietly introduces himself, awkwardly adjusting his glasses.

Nerdhan ends up sitting next to you because the teacher expects you to help him catch up throughout the course. He softly tells you he was never academically active before and that he’ll be indebted to you for helping him. He is cute, not gonna lie… but also painfully shy, something that endears you to him even more.

Nerdhan who gets challenged by the guys in class because, first, he’s the new kid, and second why is he always sticking around you and your friends instead of socializing with everyone else? Johan effortlessly puts those bullies in their place, and you’re left awed because apparently he isn’t just a shy nerd.

Nerdhan stays late with you in the library, asking for your guidance so he can improve and learn faster. And somehow, he learns dangerously fast. Over time, whenever you say something nice or compliment him, the tips of his ears always turn red.

Nerdhan comes back home a little too happy these days. Not that his mother minds it, but this happiness feels different. She knows exactly what it is...the unmistakable happiness of a new crush.

Nerdhan who adapts to new lessons ridiculously quickly, earning praise from teachers for being hardworking and talented but every single time someone praises him, it’s you he turns to first. A silent way of thanking you. His hand reaching slightly toward your side while you remain frozen, wondering if you’re reading too much into it.

Nerdhan slowly makes more friends with your help, and soon all of you start going out together, karaoke, arcades, casual hangouts after school. Everyone notices how he always sticks close to you, earning knowing giggles from the others but somehow, it’s okay. You don’t mind. Because being around Johan feels better.

Nerdhan finally decides to tell Mira about you, and she is absolutely thrilled for him. She immediately says she’ll bring Zack along and that Johan needs to bring you over for a study session. You end up meeting both Zack and Mira and learn far too many embarrassing things about Johan but when you laugh at all the stories, the sound of your laughter alone makes Johan’s heart flutter helplessly.

Nerdhan who slowly decides to take things one step at a time, though truthfully, he has absolutely no idea how to approach any of this properly. He keeps overthinking everything, imagining scenarios in his head. So one evening, after another long study session, he nervously asks if you’d like to come over and see his dogs. His neck stretches awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere except your face and honestly, who could say no to that? And when Eden and Miro meet you, they immediately know you’re the reason Johan has been coming home smiling like an idiot lately, instantly leaping onto you in approval.

Nerdhan sometimes withdraws because he starts wondering whether you even like him that way. He worries he’s crossing boundaries so he grows distant for a few days. And during one of those moments, you corner him and bluntly tell him you don’t like him acting like this and if something is bothering him, he should just tell you.

Nerdhan who is so caught off guard by that confrontation that he blurts everything out.That he gets nervous around you. That sometimes he worries he’s pushing too much.That he thinks about you in ways he probably shouldn’t. He rambles and stumbles over his words, saying everything he’s been desperately holding back…

And somehow it all ends with ...

“Because of all this… I wonder sometimes what it would feel like to kiss you…”

Nerdhan who immediately regrets saying that. Because now, surely you’ll reject him. And worse…Now the friendship is ruined too.

Nerdhan is completely caught off guard when, instead of rejecting him…

You kiss him.

Your hands fully grabbing his face as you crash your lips against his, and for one entire minute Johan’s brain simply stops functioning. And when the kiss finally breaks, you look at him and whisper —

“So now tell me, how did it feel? Kissing me?”

And then the two of you stand there awkwardly for exactly three seconds.

Before Johan, this time with far more confidence, cups your face gently and kisses you again. Nothing needs to be said.

Nerdhan now realizes that kissing you is dangerously addictive. Who learns that holding your hand somehow feels sweeter than anything else.

Nerdhan who is now yours.

And maybe…

You were always his too.

[wintersonlysdaughter]

Secrets

Context: This is not the way you wanted Zuko to learn of your bending skills.

Genre: angst/fluff

Word Count: 1.2K

Pairings: Fire Lord!Zuko x Fire Lady!Reader (Waterbender)

a/n: I don't know what to call this? I would say its angst, with the context, but its also fluff? I don't know, I'm rusty.

Masterlist | Zuko’s Masterlist

It was not supposed to go this way. No, you were supposed to keep your abilities hidden in your marriage and have them to yourself for safekeeping. But when you found yourself defending your injured husband, arranged, bending had been the only option.

Women of the Water Tribes were supposed to be healers - tend to the ill, heal the men who went to war, and those who handled the hard labor. Birth and care for the children, all to be seen and not heard.

You were no different, especially considering you were the Chief’s daughter. And that had been one of the terms that came with your arranged marriage to Zuko: that you would fall into place as Fire Lady and keep your bending to a minimum. While Zuko made it very clear that you did not have to abide by some of the rules and traditions of the Fire Nation, the councilmen and ministers made it known your place and who you were supposed to be while residing in their land.

Yet none of that came to mind when you were forced out of your bed with your husband, fighting for your lives as intruders invaded the palace. How they got past the guards was unknown, and Zuko would surely have countless meetings within the coming weeks addressing said issue. But for now, all you could do was bend to your best ability, using the small water basins that Zuko had placed along the walls of the palace. For each torch came a water basin, and you were truly grateful for his accommodations.

“When were you going to tell me you could bend like that? Where did you learn?” Zuko’s voice rang rough in your ears, tone laced with the strength and effort he was using to protect both of you.

“I used to sneak out and watch the water-benders train. And when we traveled, I carried coins with me that I had saved to purchase scrolls with techniques.” You grunted, pulling water once more to form an ice shield in front of you, strong enough to take on the fire and earth of the benders. With every step, you pulled more water from the basins, making the ice wall thicker and thicker until it became harder to penetrate. But you and Zuko both know that eventually your efforts wouldn’t be enough, so you bolted for one of the secret passages kept in the palace.

Before you could make it down the stairs, a loud yelp came from beside you, followed by a thump. Your husband lay on the floor, clutching his side. Your eyes widened looking between your husband and the culprit, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Oh, what shall you do, Fire Lady?” He sneered, moving into a bending stance. Before he could make any movement, his body went stiff, the air becoming still. Your fingers moved expertly, a faint breeze blowing from your lips.

“What? Wha-“

Frost began to coat his body, limbs growing further rigid with the change in temperature. You could hear Zuko calling out your name in the background, but you were too focused on saving your husband.

The man’s body froze over, your stance changing as you pulled water from your sweat, a thin ice blade. Before you could move, Zuko grasped your hand, immediately warming your cold hands.

“Enough Y/N. Please.” He pleaded, to which you caught the bloody gash that resided on his side. Without a word, you stumbled into the passageway, freezing the door shut, another layer of thick ice barricading you in. The two of you stumbled down the steps, your grip on him tightening.

“This takes us to the closest shore of the nation. A boat will be waiting for us there. Taking Druk would be too obvious, and I’d prefer to keep him out of this and safe.” You hummed at his words, quickening your footsteps.

“Where will we go from here?”

“There’s a small island not too far off from the shore. From there, I don’t know. I was able to send a dragon hawk off with a distress message to the Avatar. Hopefully he’ll be able to meet us there before sunrise.” Zuko groaned, your hand steady against his waist.

You reached the shore, a small boat waiting for you alongside the tiny dock. Blood trickled behind you, falling against the sand, leaving a trail. You pulled Zuko into the boat, tearing off a piece of your nightgown to place on the wound.

“Hold that there; I’ll get us out of here.” You spoke softly, kissing his temple. You untied the rope connecting the boat to the docks, sending a massive wave upon the shore to remove your tracks. With that same wave, you pushed the boat away from the shore, throwing your arms into tight circles as you moved the current around you.

Zuko guided you with shallow breaths, the small island appearing within minutes of your departure. Once upon shore, Zuko guided you towards a cave. When deep inside, you sat Zuko down on the cool sands, immediately tending to his wounds. His face had grown pale, eyes fluttering.

“Stay with me, love. It’ll be over soon.” He nodded his head, eyes hooded as you did your work, bending the blood back into the wound. Drawing moisture from the sand, your hand began to glow as you healed the wound, color slowly returning to Zuko’s face. He looked at you with a soft smile, hands shakily moving towards your face. Tears grew at your lash line, a soft smile appearing on your face.

“My wife is badass.” He mumbled, to which you laughed, kissing him deeply. You pulled away, his hands moving to wipe your tears.

“I try, I try.” You spoke softly. Silence fell over you, your eyes running over your husband’s figure as you checked for injuries.

“I’m fine now, my love. I promise.” He spoke softly, fingers tilting your chin towards his face. You could see the questions in his eyes, and you sighed, sitting back on your haunches.

“My father came home once, late at night, with a large cut on his chest. He never told me why, and I never asked, but I had been the one to tend to his wounds. I couldn’t get the blood to stop; it was too much. So I just sought out the water, and it happened. I was able to bend the blood back into my father’s wound. He made me promise to never speak of the incident ever again, and he promised to allow me to train with some of the masters, but in secret.” You paused, looking at your husband for a response.

“You kept your promise as long as you could.”

“I did. Are you mad?”

“Why would I be? My wife saved us from intruders, got us to this island, and tended to my wounds. If anything, I’m honored.” He pressed his forehead against yours, smiling at you.

You smiled in response, kissing him back as he planted his lips on yours.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you more, Zuko.”