#but anyways ty for the ask mai! <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[blackjackkent]

The usual three prompts :)

Karlach - Sunflower

Jaheira - Sweet Pea

Isobel - Dandelion

(Flower prompts meme)

Finally responding to this! I ended up picking both the Karlach and Jaheira ones and combining them into one fic, and also making them both about friendship stuff even though I think the prompt definitely intended romantic. And then it grew legs and became an AO3 one-shot instead of a drabble fill. More bang for your buck. XD Really hope you like!

Sunflower - drunken rambling about their adoration Sweet Pea - a tender moment

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We Who Have Faced Gods

Pairing: Karlach & Jaheira, Tav & Jaheira, Karlach/Tav Characters: Karlach, Jaheira, OC Male Tav Rating: G Warnings: Drinking Descriptors: Fluff, humor, drunk silliness, cross-generational friendship, mentorship. Chapter Word Count: 3.0k Chapter Setting: On the road to Baldur's Gate, between Act 2 and Act 3.

Summary: A brief interlude of rest for three heroes on the road to Baldur's Gate, in between one battle and the next.

read on ao3 | send me fic requests!

-----

“I can't fuckin’ believe it,” Karlach slurs happily. 

Hector grins. “So you've said - a few times now.” 

He gently pries the bottle of ale out of her hand and takes a sip from it himself before setting it aside next to the tree they’re sitting against. Another bottle, already empty, is nestled there in the grass, damp with condensation in the crisp evening air.

The camp’s much-needed celebration at finally escaping the Shadow-Cursed Lands has also turned out to be an excuse to clear their supply packs of the unreasonable quantity of alcohol they’ve accumulated. Karlach has been doing her part in the drainage effort. Hector himself hasn’t had too much; he is, however, very much enjoying listening to her increasingly exuberant ramblings as the night has gone on and the bottles have slowly trended towards empty.

He stretches, draping his arms loosely around her waist as she settles more comfortably into his lap. “But go on. Tell me again.”

“I’m serious. I can’t believe it,” she says earnestly. Her whole face scrunches up with concentration as she tries to focus her eyes on him. “Jaheira. In our camp. That's her tent right over there!” She points unsteadily in a vague direction. “D'you know how many stories I heard about her as a kid? SO many, Hec. Like…” A pause. “So many.”

He chuckles. “Yeah?” He kisses the tip of her nose, then her lips. “I’d love to hear them.”

“She’s so cool. She can turn into a panther,” Karlach says dreamily. “I saw her do it at Last Light. An’ she cut up those winged horrors like they were nothing .”

“A very impressive show,” he agrees, nodding. 

She considers for a moment, her eyebrows knitting. “Bet I’d make a good panther.”

“I'm sure you would.” Picking up one of her hands, he interlaces their fingers, kissing each of her knuckles in turn. “You've already got the claws for it.”

“I should get Jaheira t’ teach me,” Karlach decides. Her gaze drifts out of focus again. “And then we could be panthers together and slash everyone up. And then you'd run up and punch them too. POW POW.” She thumps her fist lightly into the pit of his stomach. “Like that.”

He slumps dramatically against the tree trunk, clutching at his abdomen. “You got me. A wicked strike indeed.”

“Hrrrrrmm.” She clicks her tongue dismissively and gives her head an exaggerated shake. “C’mon now, Soldier. You fought that weird Myrkul bone motherfucker,” she points out. “You can take a gut hit from me, I bet.”

“No doubt,” he agrees. His eyes narrow teasingly. “Only you've seemed rather fond of some parts down there, and I'd hate for you to damage them accidentally.”

“Oh, shit, you're right.” She bursts into a fit of giggles and slumps against his shoulder. “Gotta be careful.” She kisses his neck, under his jaw, up to his ear, and nips gently at his earlobe. This elicits a soft, involuntary noise of eager satisfaction from him, and she snickers, pleased at the reaction. “Better?” 

“Much.” He runs the tips of his fingers down the back of her neck and feels her shiver pleasantly in return. “I love seeing you so happy, you know.”

This seems to give her some pause. “Happy. Yeah.” She fidgets her fingertips at his jaw, pushing against the grain of his beard with an air of deep absorption.

There's silence for a moment, filled with the noise of the living forest around them - so different from the desolation of the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Damp leaves rustle against each other in the slow, warm breeze. Somewhere above them, a hawk screeches a hunting call. 

 “We're gonna kill Gortash, right?” Karlach asks abruptly. 

His lips purse tightly and his smile fades. He remembers the mop-headed bastard in the long coat, standing alongside Ketheric and the Bhaalist in that pit of horrors beneath Moonrise. He remembers the rage in Karlach’s face and how it echoed in his own heart. “Yes,” he answers. “We will.”

She presses her face into his neck. “An’ Jaheira's gonna help us. An’ I can kiss a hot monk any time I want, an’ he promised me nothing bad is ever gonna happen, ever again.”

He blinks, then chuckles, the grim mood easing again. “All true things.”

“Then yeah.” Her voice is muffled and increasingly drowsy, but he can hear the smile in it. “I'm happy.”

He digs his fingers gently into the small of her back to pull her tighter against him. “Good. I am too.” 

It isn’t a lie - he is happy, here at this moment, blanketed in her warmth. But uncertainty lurks very close at hand. They have a plan, a goal - a purpose that will save thousands of lives if they can hold to it. But their enemy is horrifying beyond comprehension, and everyone, even to the daughter of Selune herself, has trusted him to be equal to it.

What if he’s not?

He’s jarred from his thoughts by the soft thump of a footstep, and he looks up to see Jaheira rounding one of the nearby tents. The High Harper also has a bottle of wine in one hand, but her steps are steady and her bearing straight. Only her eyes - softened from their usual sharp glint and peering languorously into the middle distance - betray any sign of inebriation. 

She comes to a halt just shy of tripping over Hector's outstretched legs. Her eyes take a moment to refocus, and she tips her head to one side as she takes in the scene.

“Good evening, Carlisle,” she says with exaggerated gravity, inclining her head at him. 

He tries to straighten up respectfully, although the effect is somewhat marred by Karlach’s weight holding him pinned against the tree trunk. “Good evening, High Harper.” 

Karlach stirs in his arms. “Oh, fuck. Is that Jaheira?” she mumbles, still muffled against him. 

He grins, ruffling her hair gently with his fingers. “Seems so,” he answers.

“Shit.” She makes an uncoordinated (and unsuccessful) effort to lift her head. “Don' tell her I'm drunk…”

Jaheira’s eyes narrow with sudden humor and she crouches at Hector's side. With a deft jerk, she lodges the butt end of the bottle she’s carrying into the dirt next to the others. “Do not worry, Karlach,” she says gravely. “Your secret is quite safe.”

“Good,” Karlach mumbles sleepily. “I want her t’ think I'm cool…” She squirms and grinds her face more firmly into Hector's neck. “And teach me about… panthers…”

Jaheira quirks one eyebrow up and her lips twitch. “I believe she vastly overestimates the number of ‘cool’ people I have traveled with,” she says to Hector, her tone deeply dry. 

Hector grins cautiously. He does not quite have Karlach’s level of hero worship, but it still feels mildly unreal to be sitting here talking with one of the heroes of the Bhaalspawn Crisis, a woman he read of in countless historical texts in the monastery’s library. In person, Jaheira has proved to be remarkably down-to-earth, despite all the lofty tales that speak of her, but Hector’s instinct for deference towards her is hard to shake. “Well, we’re all very pleased you’ve chosen to travel with us,” he tells her earnestly. “And honored.”

“Bah, the honor is mine, Saer Carlisle.” She grins crookedly and raises one shoulder in a half-shrug. “It is an exclusive club, we who have faced down a god and survived. It is so rare that we get new members. I should be thanking you for the company.”

He relaxes a little with a laugh. “I never imagined facing anything like this,” he admits.

Jaheira snorts. She slowly lets herself topple out of her crouched position to sit next to him on the dew-damp ground. “In my experience, a world-ending crisis is not something one plans for. It merely happens, and you are swept along in the rising flood, will you or no.” 

Her eyes flick from his face to Karlach, draped in his arms, and her expression softens slightly. “But you have been equal to it, so far. What we faced in the Shadow-Cursed Lands… not many would have come out of it unscathed.”

Hector drifts his fingertips over Karlach’s back, feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest and the pulses of heat from the infernal engine - and the subtle rough texture of one of the new scars she gained at Moonrise. “Unscathed might be putting it a little strongly,” he murmurs.

“True enough. Let us say… alive,” Jaheira says with a flash of gallows humor. “An accomplishment that should never be taken for granted.” A pause. “I am proud of both of you - of all of you. And proud to face whatever lies ahead at your side.”

Karlach’s head has become heavier on his shoulder and her breathing, against his ear, has settled into a steady rhythm, but at these words, she looks up suddenly. Her eyes are at half-mast and her nose rubs against Hector’s throat. 

“Soldier?” she mumbles.

“Yes, love?”

“Jaheira just say she’s proud of us?”

Hector smiles and presses a kiss against her hairline. “She did.”

She gives him a bleary smile. “I think I’m dreaming,” she murmurs. “But it’s a nice dream, so don’t wake me up, m’kay?”

He rubs his fingers gently at the base of her neck. “You have my word.”

She makes an inarticulate, happy sound and buries her face back into his chest. 

Jaheira chuckles. “Perhaps I am not so sorry as I thought that the bards have made so much of me,” she says lightly. “One could get used to such adoration.” She draws a long inhale through her nose, savoring the scent of the forest around them, and then exhales it in a heavy sigh. “You should get some rest, cub,” she adds gently. “We’ve a long walk in the morning, and many more to follow.”

Hector lifts an eyebrow at her. “I could say the same of you.”

She laughs. It's a sharp, almost barking sound - a trifle bitter, but not without humor. “It has been many, many years since I last slept a full night, Carlisle. I think tonight will be no different. But there may yet be hope for you.”

He shrugs - carefully, trying not to jostle Karlach's head. “Perhaps. But…” He smiles sheepishly. “I need to bring this one along with me, and I don’t think she’s much in the mood to move at present.”

“Mm. I will help you move her, then. You have both earned a better bed than the cold forest ground.” Jaheira glances at the two bottles sitting side by side against the tree trunk, and snorts softly. “She has told me something of her story. I suppose a decade in the Hells must lend one a certain tolerance for the weak drinks of the material plane. All the same, I have seen stronger warriors than her felled by the combination of Balor ale and fireswill. I am impressed that she is still conscious.”

He frowns. “It’s a special occasion,” he says with a shrug. “We all needed to let loose a little, I think.”

She grins. “Oh, do not mistake me - I am not judging. Besides, practically the whole camp is passed out. I was surprised to find anyone else awake at all. Well, besides Dame Aylin,” she corrects herself with a low laugh, glancing over her shoulder. “She keeps a vigil in the moonlight and was quite uninterested in the revelry. Perhaps the daughter of a goddess sees little point in the meager wine that mortals brew.”

Involuntarily, Hector looks up, following Jaheira's gaze to see if he can spot the aasimar in prayer. But wherever it is that Aylin is apparently keeping vigil is out of his sight, masked by the tents or the trees or the gentle, moonlit darkness. “I still can't believe it,” he murmurs, slowly starting to squirm out from beneath Karlach's weight. “My Lady's daughter, here in flesh. She laid a hand on my shoulder and said she would follow me.” He pauses and then smiles ruefully. “It's the only thing that could possibly be more astonishing than you saying the same thing.”

Jaheira looks at him curiously for a moment. Then she catches Karlach by the shoulder and helps to lift her up so that Hector can wriggle sideways onto his knees. “For so many years, you have had faith in Selune,” she points out. “And yet you are surprised to receive it in return, in the hour of crisis?” 

Hector grunts and pushes himself to his feet, hooking Karlach's arm over his shoulder. Between them, they lift her onto her feet; she's definitely almost asleep now and mumbles inarticulately at the motion.

“I don't deserve it,” he says quietly, more to himself than to Jaheira. 

Jaheira smiles faintly, bracing herself to help hold up Karlach's considerable weight. “A thing worth knowing, Carlisle, if you are on a path of which songs will be sung,” she answers, “is that you no longer get to choose what you deserve. Least of all the faith that is put in you.”

Hector doesn't answer directly at first. “Come on, love,” he tells Karlach gently. “Let's get back to the tent.”

“Tired…” Karlach mumbles. 

“I know. I’ve got you…” He drapes one hand around her waist to keep her upright, and they take a few awkward steps forward. On Karlach's other side, Jaheira moves easily, adjusting to the rhythm of their movement to help support her. 

They're almost to Karlach's tent before Hector finally speaks again, and it’s so low Jaheira probably has to strain to hear it. “I don’t want to let you down,” he mutters. “Any of you.”

To his surprise, Jaheira laughs softly. “Hector,” she says, “you still have the bone dust of the god of death on your fists. What right would I have to feel you have failed me?”

He crouches at the flap of the tent, lowering Karlach carefully. “Myrkul was one thing,” he says. “But there is so much that lies ahead. We face an elder brain. And those two other Chosen, the Bhaalist and Gortash…”

Karlach squirms suddenly, her eyes opening halfway. The sudden movement overbalances Hector and he falls sideways, hitting the ground next to the bedroll with a grunt, Karlach half on top of him. “I’ll kill ‘im,” she growls unsteadily, struggling to right herself, one hand planted in the middle of Hector’s chest. “Gortash… that fuckin’...”

“Shhhhh…” Jaheira leans forward and presses her palm gently to Karlach’s shoulder. “Not now. Rest. You are no use to anyone if you do not sleep.” 

Karlach blinks blearily, and then lets the pressure of Jaheira’s hand guide her backwards, until she sprawls out onto the bedroll, her head lolling into the pillow. Her gaze drifts out of focus, and then her eyes fall closed. “‘Kay,” she whispers, the burst of energy fading as quickly as it came. “G’night…”

To Hector’s intense surprise, Jaheira doesn’t draw back immediately. Instead, she settles her weight down on her knees next to the bedroll and simply looks at Karlach in silence for a little while. Then she reaches out and brushes a stray bit of hair off the younger woman’s forehead, with a gentleness Hector has never seen from her before.

“Rest, Karlach,” she murmurs. “There will be many battles to fight in the morning… but none of them call you tonight. Rest and breathe nature's clean air. Let it bring you peace while there is peace to be had.”

Hector listens in silence. It is hard to imagine Jaheira singing a lullaby, and yet there is something of that cadence in her words - and something like a prayer, too, gentle and meditative. As she looks at Karlach's half-sleeping form, her thoughts seem for a moment to be far away. Something of the brittle, sardonic mask has slipped, just for a moment, and he can see age and weariness and regret through the cracks. 

The remaining tension in Karlach's body fades and she sags, her head slumping against Jaheira’s fingers. “Where's Hector?” she mumbles, just barely audible. 

Jaheira smiles. “He is here. I do not think he would leave your side if I tried to drag him away.” She turns, rests a hand gently on Hector's arm for a moment, then draws back and out of the tent, looking back at him sitting in the opened flap. 

“I will not tell you, Carlisle, that all will be well,” she says quietly. “Nor do I think you would believe me if I did. But it is well for tonight. And tomorrow… we will meet what comes. I am not mistaken in you, nor is Aylin; of that you may be certain.”

He feels a sudden tight lump in his throat, and for a moment he can't quite speak. “Thank you,” he finally murmurs. 

“And take care of each other,” she adds gruffly, jerking her head to indicate Karlach. “The road is hard, but to travel with someone you love is a gift. Treasure it.”

“I do,” he answers, following her gaze back to the woman he loves. Karlach is certainly asleep now, facedown on the bedroll. Her shoulders rise and fall in a steady rhythm, lacking the tension and twitching energy of her waking hours. “Every moment.”

She nods slowly, and for a moment seems to look through him, back towards some memory long out of her grasp. “Then you are doing all I can ask of you,” she says softly. 

Suddenly the moment breaks. Her head snaps back and her gaze hoods over with wry humor again. “Now, ye gods, lie down and rest yourself as well, boy. We are free of the shadows at last; I can breathe again and I mean to enjoy it. It would be a poor ending to my night to have to knock you out.” She laughs sharply and gives him a gentle nudge with her boot to push him fully back inside the tent. Then, without waiting for a response, she turns and walks away, disappearing like a shadow back towards the warm dark of the forest.

read on ao3

[bitternace]

i know ive already asked one for the spotify ask game but larxene/elrena and 12?

worry not!! it's all in good fun<3

i know i'm better off solo—shouldn't have to be this hard

[ID: a digital drawing of elrena and her chirithy from the kingdom hearts series. A purple light hits her back.

Elrena is shown sideways sitting in the air, expression blank. She has a couple of moles near her jaw and neck and a pierced ear. She holds chirithy close to her torso, chin resting on the top of their head protectively. Chirity looks up at her with a worried expression, one paw over elrena's visible hand, the other reaching towards their face. Their cape has a knot on the front.

the background is transparent with a dark blue block in place of the shadow they would cast where, faintly, the lines of larxene's profile hold a finger to her lips. /End ID.]

[necrotic-nephilim]

I’m here to bother you again!!!

You don’t have to if you don’t want to but maybe dark ship bingo with timjay or brudick????

hELLO i love being bothered by you this is delightful omg thank you, i would love to

Here is JayTim, I can't believe I only got one bingo for them. Ironically I genuinely don't view Jason and Tim as family, even when I'm not shipping them, I think they're tentative allies at best and you can only brother-ify them if you're doing very generously OOC fluff, a la WFA-style. They're absolutely toxic and codependent on each other's existence, Tim wouldn't exist without Jason and Jason is Undeniably Weird about Tim, but not brothers so I can't check off the familial squares. Also, I have no idea if I've been blocked by 10+ people, but it'd be funny if I am. And funnily enough, I don't think Tim or Jason are vanilla in any capacity even when they're not fucking. Especially not Tim, that boy is Certified Weird.

and ofc BruDick I nearly blacked out the whole board because they absolutely are weird and unwell. Some of these only apply to certain AUs of BruDick (like an idea I have rattling in my skull rn with Talon!Dick) but most of it applies to them all the time. I really need to write some fucked up BruDick, it's tragic I haven't yet. Right now the two fics I'm working on are a weird JayDick and a more fluffy DamiDick, but I have Plans™ for BruDick too. They are the OG and deserve their flowers for being the most toxic mess you've ever seen.

[cerealmonster15]

Omg 5 for carerella and 55 for jamiazu 🕺

[pick a playlist and send me a corresponding number for a doodle!!!!]

hi felix. sorry i took 900 years for some quick sketches kfjdsljkfe

okokok so first for caterella you picked Crash and Burn by Savage Garden

fun fact. this is on both the caterella playlist AND the jamiazu playlist lol. i think my friend suggested it for jamiazu and then i was also thinking it fit cater also. some lyrics-

LISTEN listen i think this is very treycay in the sense of how we know trey and cater are good buddies and trey feels comfortable being himself around cater and he wants cater to open up to him more but doesent wanna push him - to me this song is trey pov essentially deciding to stop being so PASSIVE and tell cater "hello, i love you, please take a chance to open up to me instead of trying to dwell in your solitude, please please lean on me and we can go through these things together"

un abrazo :3

now for the jamiazu fkjlsjfdslj hear me out. hear me out pl e a se, i had to sit there for a bit and remember why this one was on there LOL i think it was another one that showed up in spotify's suggestions and when i was adding any song i could loosely tie to the delusions of them in my mind..... anyway jamiazu's pull was Because You Live by Jesse McCartney l o l

i. 🧍‍♂️tbh cant remember for sure whose pov i had this in here for initially JKLFSJKLF bc some of these i grabbed as like "jamil when he eventually has that Realization that he likes azul and that azul sees him for his true potential and worth that was buried by kalim overshadowing him all his life"

like here jamil being like "you see me for who i am, faults and all, you appreciate my skills and you still want me despite it all with my true colors" and how like the two of them i think COULD work really well together. if it werent for The Issues jfklsjkfls

but also. this is a very intense romantic cornball song that doesnt really fit jamils vibe LOL you have to understand a lot of these are loose interpretations on my part KSDKLFJ and then stuff like this

more azul pov coded. in my mind. in my delusional mind jkfsdjfldsj bc i think an In Love Azul WOULD be super grand and dramatic about his partner lololol UMMM ANYWAY

i got stuck on this one. i could not think of what to visualize [even tho as im writing this post i can CLEARLY SEE theyre talking about like. rain and stars and shit. i coulda used that kjlfsdkf whoopsie] so the thing i drew wasnt really related to the song exactly just. the vibes i kinda got but more toned down - the both of them coming to terms with their feelings but theyre still Weird Teen Boys so like

idk!!! awkward shy guys and their finger touch in class!!!!

[lit-in-thy-heart]

people leaving not glowing reviews in ao3 bookmarks my unbeloved

[aurore-parle-de-ses-idees]

33 Corunir & Est? :D

33- picking them up (from the hug list actually lol)

pros of running into the grey company before going back to isengard: more friends for isengard!

cons of running into the grey company before going back to isengard: more friends. in isengard.

The Fords of the Isen are quiet, the river running reddish-brown even in the shallow places, the camp on the hill in ashes and stones heaped in piles like grave-cairns over the drier places. They look down upon the trampled, muddy banners and the broken armor caught on the river stones. A heavy quiet hangs over them all.

The others might be thinking of the Company’s allies, of the long search that surely awaits them here if they are to find their Chieftain, of what it means that battle came here so certainly and so violently. Of the long shadow of Orthanc that reaches down the valley to the north. Of Esterín.

She rode away with the Prince of Rohan. Faeron calls from the eyot that he has found Théodred’s helmet.

Surely she did not come here and die, Corunir thinks, gripping his horse’s reins too tightly while he searches the shallows for any sign of their dear friend. But surely she would not have gone easily if she had had it in her head to protect the Prince or his men. None of the horselords had returned to the Gravenwood- but no, Braigiar had said he saw her, hadn’t he? That there had been a battle, and she had been injured but had survived, and she had gone across the mountains with Nona and into Rohan. She had not returned to them, not even in passing, and he finds the thought stings- but then, they had sent her away, hadn’t they? She had not returned smiling from her conference with Halbarad and Saeradan, and two days later she was gone.

But even Braigiar is looking around the Fords in dismay, and that does not lift Corunir’s heart any more than the clouds in the distance.

“There are riders to the north,” Elladan calls from the burnt-black hill overlooking the crossing. A charred timber that may once have been the palisade falls with a hollow thump. “Rohirrim, I think. They make for Isengard.” And there they have another friend, and they gather eagerly at Halbarad’s command and ride, gathering speed at the bidding of unspoken urgency until a stranger’s voice calls out to stop them- until familiar laughter comes to them on the wind with a thunder of hooves and Halbarad dismounts, and even from here they can tell he is smiling.

He doesn’t recognize her, for a moment, dressed in the style of Rohan and sliding down from a horse that is not Lakewind, her carved star gone- but she spent long enough beside them that they know her smile and the way she slips between them, falling easily into tight hugs and grasping white-knuckled hands. She stops before Corunir and almost- almost- he dares to think she seems a little lighter than she had when she left them. But she crashes into his hug and she is warm and alive and... lifting him up. He makes a small sound of surprise and she drops him the scant two inches back to the ground, and steps away as if surprised herself, and then someone else calls her name and she is moving on, and for just a moment he thinks manic. In her wake there trails the faint sensation of the air after summer rain, damp and fresh and still rumbling with distant thunder. Like the feel of her healing, almost, but directionless and just a bit charged, as if the rain will come again before too long.

He tries to catch her again, but the Rohirrim ahead are growing impatient and all the Company wants to speak with her, and Corunir falls to the back of their party beside Golodir, watching Esterín and her too-bright eyes, and her sharp and brittle composure that grows only sharper and brittler the nearer they draw to the Ring of Isengard.

[zukkaoru]

22 for mailee zukka or sokka & katara!!!

jupiter!! hello!! this is. about half as long as it would have to be if i wanted to fully capture the feeling of this song. but hopefully it's still alright since it's already uhhh kinda long

22. sincerely me - artist vs. poet + mailee

and i wish that you could see oh, what you do to me and i hope this letter covers everything i'm yours, sincerely me

word count: 1927

Mai,

Kyoshi Island is warm this time of year, but it’s still nothing compared to Caldera City. I think you’d like it here in spring, actually. All of the flowers are blooming and the snow is melting and it’s really very beautiful. One of the other warriors taught me how to press flowers, so I’ve included some with this letter. I don’t know the meanings like you do; I just picked ones I thought looked prettiest.

A group of us are leaving for Gaoling in a few days. We��ve been trying to go on more recruitment missions, because Suki wants to create different chapters of the Kyoshi Warriors - that way we aren’t limited to helping Kyoshi Island. She has big dreams, but she’s got enough determination that I don’t doubt they’re possible to achieve.

Sokka, Katara, and Aang stopped by the island for a visit last week. It was nice to see them again even if I don’t know them very well. But seeing them reunite with Suki made me miss you even more. You should come visit when you get a chance! You can even bring Zuko if he can afford a break. I’d love to see you again!!

How is Zuko, by the way? You didn’t mention him in your last letter. Are you two still doing alright? Or do I need to catch the first boat to Caldera and kick his ass for you? Because I will.

Okay, I have to go - Tuq is calling me. I look forward to your next letter, and I’ll write again once I’ve returned from Gaoling!

Yours always,

Ty Lee

— —

Ty Lee, 

Zuko is fine, but Zuko and I aren’t great. There’s too much stress with him being Fire Lord, I think. And we’re both realizing some things that make a relationship a little complicated. It’s nothing you need to worry about, though, I promise! We’re talking through it, so no need to beat Zuko up.

Besides, I’ll do it myself if I need to.

I love the flowers; they really are quite pretty. The pink ones are plum blossoms. Those mean “resilience” and “perseverance”. The yellow ones are daffodils, which mena “respect”. And the white ones are Tsutsuji, or azaleas. The white ones specifically mean either “modesty” or “first love”. It was a nice collection, you chose well.

Kyoshi Island does sound beautiful. I’m not sure when or if I’ll be able to visit, but maybe someday. Or I guess maybe if I need some distance from Zuko. I don’t know. We’ll see what happens.

I hope you enjoyed your trip to Gaoling! Zuko says Toph is from there. They didn’t like it much, but I believe that has to do with the circumstances of their upbringing. I’m sure it’s a fine place to visit. Suki’s idea about different Kyoshi Warrior chapters sounds helpful as well. Maybe you could come recruit in Caldera City sometime.

I miss you too. I hope we can see each other again soon.

Sincerely,

Mai

— —

Mai,

Gaoling was incredible! It’s so SO cool getting to travel around the Earth Kingdom and being able to really appreciate the cultures. I’ve learned a lot since I came to Kyoshi Island and we started going out on recruitment trips.

Although I do agree: A trip to Caldera would be nice. I’d love any excuse to see you! I know we’re both busy, though.

I’m sorry to hear about the complications between you and Zuko. And I know you can kick his ass yourself, but my offer still stands if you should need it. Or, like you said, you can come visit me here to get some distance from everything.

It’s hard to believe it’s nearing a year since the end of the war and me moving to Kyoshi Island. It’s still weird not having you close by, but it’s nice we can at least write letters. It doesn’t replace seeing you face-to-face, but it helps.

Spring is making me miss you more, I think. Remember when we would try to catch falling cherry blossoms, just the two of us in your backyard? I miss being that young and carefree. I miss seeing you like that. It was the one time you would let your guard down and allow yourself to smile.

I don’t think I ever told you, but you really do have the prettiest smile.

If I can ever convince Suki to take a Kyoshi Warrior trip to the Fire Nation, I’ll be sure to let you know. But until then, I’ll miss you and I’ll keep writing.

Yours always,

Ty Lee

— —

Ty Lee,

Sorry for the long break in letters. I’ve read all three you sent, but I was having trouble writing a response. Zuko and I have officially ended things. I moved out of the palace. I’m living with Aunt Mura now and working full time in the flower shop. My mom keeps trying to convince me to move home and I’m running out of ways to politely decline the offer.

I’m sorry this letter is no good. I don’t have much else to say.

I hope I’ll see you soon. I miss you.

Sincerely,

Mai

— —

Mai,

There’s no need to apologize! I’ll treasure any letter you send regardless of how long or short it is. It’s as close as I can get to having you with me.

I’m sorry to hear about you and Zuko. :( I know I’m far away, but let me know if there’s anything I can do!

I will say, I’m glad you moved in with your aunt instead of your parents. I know you don’t want to be too mean to your mom, but you’ll be much better off staying with Mura. Hopefully your mom will back off soon and understand that you don’t want to live with her anymore without you having to tell her it isn’t good for your mental health.

I hope you’re enjoying working at the flower shop! I know you always really liked that place. I used to think it was so unlike you to be happy helping out there, but I understand better now. It’s fitting, I think. You remind me of flowers sometimes; flowers don’t always recognize their beauty and worth either. But remember that you are always worthy of love and happiness.

I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m trying to guilt you with how much I say this, but I miss you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing you. A summer thunderstorm rolled through last night, and I thought of us hiding under the blankets in my bedroom. I was way more scared than you were, but you hid with me anyways. I really appreciate that. I’m not scared of thunder anymore, but I wouldn’t say no to building another blanket fort hideout.

The summer sun here is hot, but the heat of Caldera was worse. Take care of yourself. Remember to drink water and don’t stay out in the sun for too long without anything to shade you. 

Yours always,

Ty Lee

— —

Ty Lee,

I miss you too, no guilt intended.

Mura and Zuko both say I should visit you. Would that be okay? You asked if there was anything you could do to help, and all I could think was that I really miss your hugs.

Sincerely,

Mai

— —

Mai,

PLEASE come visit!!! I will give you as many hugs as you want!!!!!!!

Yours always,

Ty Lee

PS: Wait, you’re still talking to Zuko? Also you don’t have to wait for another response from me before you leave Caldera. Just come. I’ll tell Suki to expect you soon. Unless you don’t want to come, in which case, you’re free to stay! But I really really would love for you to visit.

— —

Ty Lee,

Yes, Zuko and I still talk. It’s complicated.

Next week is the last week of summer, and there’s usually a rush in the shop that week, so I’ll leave at the start of the following week.

See you soon!

Yours,

Mai

— —

“This is so much better than the letters,” Ty Lee whispers, burying her face in Mai’s shoulder. She’s clinging to Mai like her life depends on it, but Mai doesn’t mind because she’s doing the same in return. And Ty Lee is right; this is far better than the letters they’ve exchanged in the past year. Mai has kept each one, safe in a box on a shelf in her room where she can reread them whenever she’s missing Ty Lee more than usual.

But Ty Lee in person is a million times better than ink and paper and even the pressed flowers.

“I missed you,” Mai says, as if that hasn’t been stated in every letter sent between them. But it’s important, and it means more than just those three words. It means I’m glad to see you again and Times may change but our friendship remains and I’m home.

It expresses the love that the two of them spent so long pushing down and ignoring, because how could they be together in a world that would lock them up for their feelings?

“I missed you too.”

The hug breaks, but Ty Lee doesn’t let go of Mai’s arms, and Mai doesn’t want her to. Mai wants her to hold on forever, never wants to be apart from her again. She wants to throw caution to the wind and beg to stay.

But she doesn’t. Not yet.

She takes a deep breath, inhaling the clean Kyoshi Island air, tinged with the first chilled breezes of autumn. She looks around to assure no one else has come outside to check on them. She never figured out, exactly, what to say now. But she knows she needs to say something.

Zuko had convinced her, actually. Mai, I know you. You won’t do this without a push, so I’m pushing you. Go to Kyoshi Island. Tell Ty Lee how you feel. I’m almost certain she feels the same.

And once Zuko had pointed out the signs, Mai couldn’t stop seeing them either. It was written between each line in every letter Ty Lee sent her. It was in the pressed flowers and the neat creases in the paper. It was in the space between every single letter.

I LOVE YOU.

“Ty Lee,” Mai whispers. She leans in slightly on instinct, desperate to be closer. They’ve been so far apart for so long and even though Ty Lee’s hands remain firmly wrapped around her arms, Mai can hardly stand the space still lingering between them. She wants to melt into Ty Lee’s body so they can never be separated again.

“Please stay,” Ty Lee says. One hand drops Mai’s arm to cup her cheek instead. “I don’t think I can bear to say goodbye again. I know I told you I didn’t want to guilt you into coming here, and I didn’t, but— I couldn’t say everything in the letters. Some things need to be said in person.”

“You did say it,” Mai assures her. “And I think I’ve always felt the same. That’s why Zuko and I never could have worked. I always— It was always you. I’ve always been yours.”

Ty Lee smiles. “Your letters said it too. I was worried I was reading them wrong.”

Mai shakes her head. “You should know no one knows me as well as you do.”

“Mai—” Ty Lee starts, then stops abruptly. Instead of saying anymore, she lifts herself onto her tiptoes, angling Mai’s face downward.

Mai takes her cue and closes the distance between them.

[ladyseidr]

@poaetise asked: ❝ "now, cerberus," melinoë starts, "i've brought a friend with me. he would very much like to meet you, so be kind to him, alright?" one of the dog's several heads would nod, eyes wide and curious, while another bends down to greet the boy. "go for the chin when you pet him, he loves it." and then, the third head nuzzles something into atreus' hand. it's a ball. melinoë laughs, " ahh, i think he likes you." ❞ ( random ask )

For all the stories he had heard of Cerberus from his father and Mimir, nothing could have prepared him for truly seeing him in person. Despite whatever reaction he perhaps should have had, he lit up at the sight of the towering, three-headed dog. "I guess they really do exaggerate the number of your heads, huh?" He added with speed, "But three is cool anyway." His words were true; he had faced dragons and Garm himself, but he had never seen any creature like Cerberus. He moved forward slowly, eagerness managed by plenty of experience with his wolves back in Midgard. He felt no aggression from Cerberus, however, and his smile only grew as one of his heads bent to meet him. "Good boy, he began, reaching out to do just as Melinoë suggested and scratch under Cerberus's chin. Any and all wariness faded just like that, Atreus bringing up both hands to pet the dog with a grin. "You're amazing! I can't wait to see everyone's faces when I go home and tell them I got to pet you." The third head coming closer was not what made Atreus pause. Instead, his ability to feel emotions hinted at something first—a question. "What is it?" And then the ball was pushed into his hand and a laugh escaped him. Melinoë's words only brightened Atreus's expression. "Really?" he asked, more an expression of excitement than a question. He turned back to Cerberus. "I like you too." He examined the ball he had been given for a moment, taking note of its sturdiness. "I should get something like this for my wolf Fenrir. He wants to play fetch with fallen trees sometimes—" said without any explanation of the wolf's size— "but I'm not as strong as my father yet. Fenrir needs something smaller that might last awhile." He turned back to Melinoë then, eyes alight once more. "You should meet him. It's only fair." He scratched under Cerberus's chin, weighing the ball in his other hand like he was already considering playing fetch with the massive dog in front of him. "He looks a little scary—it's a long story—but I promise, he's really friendly."

[k-hotchoisan]

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

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

his favourite

<prof!san x fem!reader>

Prof Choi likes playing favourites.

You’re his favourite.

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

Word count: 12.3K

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

apply for taglist here!

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

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

“Why not try for the department chair?”

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

“Who?”

“Professor Choi?”

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

“Why the fuck would I try him?” 

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

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

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

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

Right. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who did you get?”

“Choi San.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

That sealed your fate. 

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

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

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

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

Until now that is. 

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

You had to collect yourself before Prof Choi collected you. 

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

“Come in.”

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

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

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

Fuck, he’s still so handsome.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re usually in a little earlier.”

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

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

“What’s this?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the hell were you thinking?

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

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

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

“Huh?” Is all you manage to reply. 

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

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

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

“So you’re single”, you echo.

He nods, “I’m single.” 

What is this strange feeling of relief?

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

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

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

You glare at him. 

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

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

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

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

You did? “I did?”

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

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

“Is that why you kept-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re going off with Choi Jongho?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallow hard, your body still frozen in spot. 

“What do you think about him then?” 

“Jongho? I was just-“

“No. Choi San.”

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

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

“I t-think Prof-“

“San. Choi San”, he corrects you. 

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

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

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

“Mmhm.”

“And he’s really so-“

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you Prof Choi. See you tomorrow.”

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

“See you too, y/n.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You try out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Prof. Hey cutie.” 

San blinks. What did he just call you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, Is San not going?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cute? You think Jongho is…cute?” 

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

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

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

“Well, I mean-“

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

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

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

“Prof-“

“No. It’s sir.”

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

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

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

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Yes, sir.”

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

“Good girl.”

Of course, he claims it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you asking?”

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

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

“Y/n?”

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

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

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

You laugh softly at his words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You force a smile and shake your head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n”, you hear San call you. 

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

“Come here. Help me look at this.”

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

And it definitely seems to be ticking him off. 

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

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

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

He’s making you face him now. 

You’re still not giving him eye contact. 

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

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

Shit. You know that clear as day. 

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

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

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

And you’re finally looking right at him. 

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

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

He leans in closer. 

“Then why are you avoiding my eye contact?”

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

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

San is waiting for you to continue. 

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

“And?”

“It made me want…more.”

There’s a moment of silence.

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

It makes your heart flutter. 

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

This is not right. This is so dangerous. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, I’m not sure-“

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

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

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

God, Choi San thinks he’s in heaven. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please what, sweetheart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially one of them. 

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

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

He bites his cheek. 

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

He just doesn’t know how to tell you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck just happened?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S-sir…!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. Oh god. 

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

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

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

Your mind is a complete puddle. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now on your knees.” 

You’ve never dropped to your knees so fast.

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

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

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

“Look at me”, he instructs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yes sir.” 

“How are you feeling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We need to talk-“

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

But you’re stubborn. 

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

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

“We didn’t kiss”, you reiterate. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But why would he do that for?”

“He was trying to rile you up.”

“For what?”

“To see if you felt anything for me?”

“By kissing you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me what?”

“That I’m in love with you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The moment I received your teaching assistant application.”

📚 Bonus Epilogue 📚

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

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

“Yes?” 

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

San nods, taking the papers from her. 

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

“Prof, you’re married?”

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

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

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

“I am.”

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

“Tell me more then”, she asks. 

San scoffs playfully, turning his gaze to her. 

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

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network: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[dystopyx-blog]

more yandere octotrio!

Dedicated to @mr-trick <3 ty for your support

"Your grades have been slipping."

When you had been called into Azul's office, you certainly weren't expecting him to scold you like a parent. To add insult to, well, insult, Jade and Floyd were there, too, and the latter couldn't stop themselves from snickering.

"I wasn't aware that was any of your business." You shot back. You didn't bother asking how he knew–you'd had twin eels trailing you since Azul's overblot. It was rare for you to go anywhere these days without the sight of one looming at you from this distance. If their heights didn't make them obvious enough, there was the eyes. Though you had a feeling stealth wasn't the goal.

You'd be right. The tweels found it very important that you knew they were close by. Azul may have preferred for them to be stealthier, but they enjoyed your reactions too much. Plus, their presence kept others away. It's probably why Azul let them continue.

But back to the scene at hand.

Azul's response comes naturally, almost too naturally–as if he was prepared for that response. "Of course it is. The success of Night Raven students has always been my business–"

The look you hit him with was enough to stop him in his tracks.

He chuckled, adjusting his tie and his approach. "Of course, business has changed in recent times. In the past the goal was to attract as many poor unfortunate souls as I could, offering contracts with the goal to better myself, and not them. But now I've mended my ways and made a switch, so to speak. Now I wish to truly help and better those I come into contact with, starting with those I already feel close or indebted to. And what better first than the one who helped me see the light in the first place."

He waited for your response, but you offered none. Not unless you included your suspicion.

"Look, business has been rough lately since the incident, and helping you seems like the best way to restore people's faith in me."

"And thus the truth comes out."

You were so proud of yourself for sussing him out. What you didn't know is that that wasn't the truth–like at all. He didn't give a fuck what the other students thought of him, especially since he was still getting business regardless. This was about you and spending time with you, the strange, magicless student that had caught his attention like a worm on a hook. Buy to you, that would be even harder to believe than an act of true goodwill.

But that didn't matter anyway, because he had you. You agreed to help him out of the goodness of your heart–taking the opportunity to mock him. It was difficult for Azul to keep the smirk from his face as you fell into his hand. He could tell the twins felt the same way. Even if he couldn't see then standing behind him, he could still tell when Jade's gloved hand went to cover his smile, and when Floyd's slight sway stilled just enough to zero in on you.

With that, a deal had been made: you let Azul help you out of the "goodness of his heart," and you spread the word of Azul's redemption arc.

As soon as you're gone, Azul lets an easy smirk spill onto his face like oil in water.

"We got 'em boys."

What would follow is a series of study sessions, every night, either with Floyd, Jade, or Azul himself. Study session with Floyd rarely involve studying. Sometimes you would start with studying, but he’d always end up getting bored at some point, and then declare you two would be doing something else. Other times, you wouldn’t even get a chance to study, as he’d already be dragging you off somewhere before you can even set your stuff down. Floyd, being Floyd, ‘something else’ could include anything depending on his mood. Some examples of activities you’ve done during study sessions with Floyd: karaoke, ping pong, pottery, a treasure hunt all over the school for something Floyd lost a while ago and had suddenly remembered at that moment (it was in his pocket), ballroom dance classes, shopping, video games, baking. You don’t even bring any study materials with you at this point.

Jade and Azul are more what you’d expect from tutors.

Jade’s method of tutoring is hands off. He mostly just has you do your homework while he sits across from you, working on his own stuff. And if you don’t have homework or finish before study time is up, he’ll give you readings and practice assignments to do. He encourages you to ask him questions whenever you have them, but for the most part, you two are silent. What you don’t realize is that he actually spends most of the time just staring at you. Studying you.

Azul is more hands on. Like with Jade, youre expected to either work on a class assignment, or one of Azul’s specially crafted study guides. Unlike Jade, who always sits across from you, Azul sits—or, more often, stands—next to you. Instead of just silently watching you work, Azul works you through each problem. He’ll often end up hovering next to you, sometimes taking your writing hand in his to guide you through whatever problem you’re working on. He also offers coffee/tea/snack breaks, where you two can just talk, not just about schoolwork, but anything else.

You’re spending every night with one of them. You often get back to Ramshackle late (especially if it was a session with Floyd). You don’t see Horns as much, if at all. Study sessions with your freshman friends become almost nonexistent. Even Grim is starting to see less and less of you everyday.

Who you end up spending the most time with is, of course, the Octotrio. Not just for nightly study sessions anymore. Floyd will approach you outside of tutoring for fun activities. Jade often offers you treats for doing so well, including trips to Sam’s and lunch at Mostró Lounge—all on him, of course. And Azul often pops in to check in on you—to make sure you’re holding up your side of the deal. And, even if you don’t realize it, there’s always at least one of them waiting to walk you to class.

It’s no secret that Azul basically always has business on the brain. And this? This was his strategic move to monopolize you, and he got you hook, line, and sinker.

[candy-rat]

☀️ˏˋ°•*⁀➷✧Puppy Love✧

♡ Percy Jackson x Fem!Apollo Reader

♥︎ Summary: you attempt to teach the cute boy you may or may not have some feelings for how to better work a bow and arrow. || Percy blurb!

☆ Warnings: None!

(ofc i know the relations between Apollo, Zeus, And Poseidon but the readers relation w Percy and the reader is the same w him and annabeth so use that info as u must) 

★ A/N:  I’ve only ever read the first and a bit of the second book + the two movies so this is based off the new series(Walker Scobell) + plus I have the BIGGEST crush on Walker Scobell.

♪ Credits: Ty Bunny’s RPH for the divider<3

+Barely Proof read

It was another sunny day at Camp Half-Blood, kids either chasing each other around or actually putting effort to train and what nots.

Surprisingly the archery field was as empty as ever, which is why you find yourself here.

As the daughter of Apollo you tend to neglect your gift of archery rather finding yourself in simple socialization, but today you thought differently.

Your dad would be proud, wouldn’t he?

As you were in the middle of your archery session you swore you heard the sound of bushes rustling.

The sudden noise caused you to turn around, trying to identify where the noise was coming from.

You were met with the sight of a boy.

Not just any boy.

Percy Jackson.

With earlier memory you can recollect, the boy was definitely not the best with a bow and arrow, so why would he be here?

“Uh, hi” the boy spoke up.

“Oh uh, hi?” You responded in a confused yet optimistic tone.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

You’ve seen the boy on multiple other occasions, you never really talked to him before.

To be honest with yourself, you probably had the slightest crush on the boy.

The tiniest one of course, you barely knew him.

“So, do you need something? Or?” you spoke, breaking the silence.

“Oh! Uh yeah I did, yeah.” He replied with a slight crack in his voice.

Another moment of silence.

“Uhm, what do you need, uh Percy was it?” You questioned.

You didn’t need to ask, of course you knew his name.

It’s not creepy, word just gets around you know?

“Yeah uh that- that’s my name, you’re (Name) right? Daughter of Apollo?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s me.” You replied.

“You’re like really good at archery right?” He asked once more.

“You could say that, being the daughter of Apollo kinda you know comes with it, but my older siblings are definitely better.” You confirmed.

“Well I was uh wondering-“ he responded.

“Mhm?” You simply hummed in reply.

“If you could, i don’t know uh teach me how to get better at archery?” He finally let out.

You looked at your bow and back at Percy.

You wonder exactly why he asked you.

Maybe he just came here in hopes to ask the first person he sees, or maybe he was looking for you specifically.

That’s a nice thought.

“Really?! Okay, I don’t mind!”you replied.

“You don’t?!” He replied.

“Of course not! I don’t have much to do anyway.” You giggled.

Before anything you told him the basics, how to stand, how to correct your breathing, and how to aim better.

The day went on.

Percy missed the target completely most times.

But once he finally got remotely close, you had to say you were proud of the blonde.

You were happy to even spend time with him.

“There you go Percy! That was great, you’re getting better!” You chuckled, swinging you arm over his shoulder squeezing him a bit.

He froze at the sudden contact for a moment.

“Thanks! I really c-couldn’t have done it without you, you know!” He went on blushing.

“Awe don’t sweat it, it comes naturally so I never need to put much in to it, but thanks!” You thanked the boy, feeling your face heat up.

Percy handed you the bow back queuing the end of your lesson.

“You know if you ever want me to teach you again I’d be happy to, just swing by cabin 7 I’m usually there.” You mentioned.

“Yeah sure, but about that-“ he started.

“About what?”

“Well uh, seeing each other again you know? Like not during training” He blushed.

“O-oh! Yeah i wouldn’t mind at all, I enjoy your company!” You responded.

“Really?!” Percy added.

“Yeah really.” You confirmed.

“I uh- like being around you too.” Percy smiled.

The two of you got along perfectly.

Like a puzzle piece.

You definitely had a crush on him.

He might like you back.

Percy definitely is too scared to confess anytime soon.

And maybe that’s good.

Love takes time.

Especially puppy love.

A/n: innocent puppy love is deff the vibe I’ll always go for with my Percy fics so hopefully I’ll have time to do more      (Miles 42 fic in the making!!!!)<3

[lordprettyflackotara]

till dawn || eyeless jack || bonus part

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. tw: this is unfortunately very fluffy as well as smutty. if you came here for raw intense fucking wait until i release my new one shot with ej called huntin’ wabbitz. this is for the till dawn girlies ONLY. enjoy <3

“Why are we doing this again?”

Jeff’s voice was harsh, raising the question Ben had as well. The blonde stood in front of Jack, attempting to gracefully finish tying the demons bow tie. “Well Jeff in human culture weddings are a symbolic ceremony of love and unconditional commitment,” Ben explained, not glancing up at the pale killer. Somehow your request of a wedding had managed to get every creep dressed up, including Jacks friends.

Jeff went to run his fingers through his ash black hair, frowning once he realized it was in a man bun. “Yeah no I obviously have that part down pat. But I meant why are we doing this? We aren’t exactly humans anymore you know,” Jeff pointed out. Ben smiled as he finished adjusting Jacks bow tie. The sapphire blue suited him the best, according to Clockwork anyways.

“You are aware she’s a human right?” Ben asked. Jeff sighed, refraining himself from face palming. “As everyone has been talking about for the past twenty four hours, yes I am aware she’s a human,” Jeff answered. Ben went to defend you further, Jacks voice interrupting the blonde.

“We’re doing this because it’s what she wants.”

Believe it or not, Jack was apprehensive about the whole thing. It wasn’t the ceremony he feared or the social pressure to lift his mask to kiss your sweet lips. It was having you around so many creeps at once. The residents at Slender’s mansion had grown accustomed to your presence. You became just another resident, killer or not. Even the proxies had grown fond of you, initially pushing back on your stay due to your mortality. It may not have been a life they would’ve chosen for themselves, but you had proved time and time again your love for Jack prevailed all doubts.

It was also highly convenient to have someone able to grocery shop without a swat team being called.

You hadn’t outright come out and said you wanted marriage to Jack, but he was no fool. The magazines left out with pages of rings and dresses. Weddings were apart of your kinds culture and more importantly, they meant something to you. It wasn’t long after that Jack bribed Hoodie into helping him rob a jewelry store to get as many rings as they could carry. What else was he supposed to do? He didn’t know your ring size and he couldn’t possibly acquire the knowledge and be inconspicuous at the same time.

Word of your engagement spread like wildfire, the concept alone unheard of. Creeps from all over, including the Trenderman mansion, had been invited per your request. You had never met Laughing Jack, Jason the toy maker, Candypop, etc. Yet, you wanted all of them there for your special day. Jack thought it was touching once he put aside all of his fears about having that many immortal psychopaths around you. The main reason every creep turned up to your wedding was simple: you were human.

Outside of proxies, the supernatural haze that imbedded itself into creeps. It slowed down their aging, kept their bloodlust prevalent. Many of them didn’t even recall their human life. If they even had one to begin with. The idea alone that someone like you, could love someone endlessly like them was incomprehensible. This resulted in every creep on the planet to attend, that fact alone making Jack more nervous.

Slenderman had high expectations of his residents, ensuring that although unhinged they would maintain a stable and respectable behavior. Many of the creeps attending, including X-Virus and Nina the killer, were highly unpredictable. In the back of his mind he doubted that he would be able to protect you from all of them.

“Dude you should sit down, you don’t look so good,” Ben said, guiding him to sit down on the end of the bed. It was rare Jack had his mask off and it was most certainly non negotiable during the ceremony. But here in his bedroom with his (whether he’d admit it or not) best friends, he felt comfortable enough to take it off. Just for a moment. “You look kinda pale,” Jeff said, helping Ben guide Jack to sit down. The demon stifled a laugh. “Yeah you’re one to talk casper,” He chuckled.

Jeff rolled his eyes, a knock on the door interrupting a comeback that threatened to roll off of his tongue. The pale killer answered the door, revealing you. You were mesmerizing, the white dress Jane and Clockwork helped you acquire fitting you perfect. “I’d like a moment alone with Jack, if y’all don’t mind,” You say. Ben and Jeff exchanged glances. “Isn’t there some tradition about not seeing the bride until-” Jeff began, Ben’s hand planting a sharp slap on his shoulder.

“Hey dude what the fuck-”

Ben grabbed Jeff’s suit sleeve, dragging him towards the door. “Message received, see you guys at the ceremony,” He chimed cheerfully, a confused and mumbling Jeff trailing behind him. You could hear grumbling about Ben tearing the suit, the complaining making you giggle. You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. Jack was eager to be beside you, approaching you quickly.

“Hi there,” You greeted, giving him a genuine smile. Upon seeing your face he began to relax, the dark gray color returning to his face. “You look absolutely stunning my mate,” Jack purred, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sound of chatter from the hallway made Jack jump, pulling you behind him. He recognized the voices to belong to Laughing Jill and Kate the chaser, two creeps he did not trust. His gaze was centered on the door, your soft hand grabbing his arm.

“Jack, I need you to relax,” You say softly. Your voice was like warm honey, temptation threatening him to look away from the door. How could he protect you if he wasn’t ready? You walked around him, looking up at him as he towered over you. “EJ seriously, it’s okay. I’m okay,” You told him. Jacks gaze finally broke from the door, the sound of the girls straying off in the distance. “It’s hard to focus when there’s so many of my kind around. You’re not a proxy you know, you don’t have Slender’s unlimited protection,” Jack explained. His eyebrows furrowed as you admired his suit, rubbing his fingers over the suit jackets fabric.

“Maybe not. But I have yours, Jeffs, Ben’s, the proxies, Jane’s grown to like me I think, oh and Smiley,” You replied, giving him a small smile. Jacks eyebrows furrowed, tilting his head to the side. “You really think we could take on all of them and win?” He questioned. You giggled. You took his large hand, guiding him over to the window. You gestured for him to look outside, the creeps all taking their seats and talking. “This isn’t a war EJ. They’re not here to kill me. They’re here to celebrate,” You say. Jack watched as Smiley chased Sally around the yard, Slender and Trender caught up in a telepathic conversation at the podium.

Where the fuck did they get a podium?

“I guess what i’m trying to say is that you worry too much. Your friends like me right? So will they,” You told him, tucking your hair behind your ears. Jack contemplated your reasoning, glancing down and spotting the bloody painter. “You invited the bloody painter?” Jack questioned. You followed his gaze, spotting him talking to X-Virus. “I guess? Does it matter?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. Jack inhaled sharply. The last time he saw the Bloody Painter it ended in a bloody brawl. No pun intended.

“He’s just uh, not my favorite person on the planet,” Jack answered dryly. His gaze was locked onto him, refusing to shift away. You grabbed Jacks chin, guiding him to look at you. “I don’t like the idea of him seeing you. Being near you,” Jack admitted. It was something primal, something he couldn’t shake off. You were his mate and an enemy was prancing around his territory. “Guess you should show him who I belong to then,” You suggested, biting your bottom lip.

Jack could hear your heart skip a beat, a smile creeping across his face. “Oh you naughty little thing,” He whispered, bringing his lips to yours. Jack was never soft or gentle, but he tried his hardest to be so he didn’t ruin the dress. His kisses were hungry and desperate, his primal instincts ensuing. “How long do we have until the ceremony starts?” Jack asked, his lips refusing to stray from yours. You giggled, lying down on his bed. “Oh I don’t know, maybe till dawn?” You teased. Jack pounced on top of you, giving you a small smile.

“Need to know how much time I have with you love,” He purred, his breath hot against your ear. The sensation made you shudder in pleasure, your body igniting itself on fire. “Maybe twenty minutes?” You guessed. Jacks hands slowly pulled up your tight dress before cupping your drenched heat. “Okay maybe thirty,” You groaned. He could feel your dampness through your lacey white panties, the feeling alone euphoric. “Tsk tsk. Dressed so pure when you know I stole that purity long ago,” Jack hummed, teasingly dragging two fingers up and down your slit.

You whined, your hips bucking upwards. “Jack we don’t have time for teasing,” You say, eager to feel him. The demon above you quietly snickered, pushing your panties to the side. “It’s our wedding, they can wait,” He said, dropping to his knees. He dragged you by your thighs to the end of the bed, playfully licking up your thigh. “Jack please,” You whined, running your fingers through his hair. You tugged harshly at the roots, trying to drag him to your cunt. “So desperate,” Jack murmured before diving into your folds.

You could never explain or process the euphoria his three tongues provided. Two would shove themselves inside of you, scissoring your walls to stretch you out as much as they could. The third would attach itself to your clit, stimulating the bud as much as possible. It was an indescribable feeling, one that always made you moan and pant like a wild animal. Jack had purposefully gave you head everyday for a month, just to train the muscles in his tongues to be able to fuck you better.

As much as you were hesitant, it paid off.

“Fucking shit, Jack!” You moaned, throwing your head back as his large hands pried your thighs open. A primal growl rumbled in the bottom of his throat, his gaze centered on watching you fall apart. His tongues curled to begin abusing your g spot, your back arching off of the bed. You yanked at his locs, trying to pry him away from your aching cunt. You bit your bottom lip. “Jack if you keep that up you’re going to get very wet,” You threatened, your face turning red. You always got embarrassed of your bodies natural functions, Jack noticed. He didn’t see the point. He had seen every part of you and adored every nanometer.

You also had squirted on his fingers, tongues, and cock more times than he could count. How you orgasmed didn’t matter to him. He smirked as he continued his motions, your thighs trembling in his grasp. You whimpered as you came, your juices squirting across his face. You could feel your face growing hot, some of Jacks suit jacket soaked. He leaned back, your juices coating some of his clothing. He could hear your heart practically pounding against your rib cage.

“Goddammit-” Inhale. “Jack-” Exhale. “Your suits now all wet,” You sighed, trying to swallow as much air as possible Jack on the other hand was gleaming with pride, helping you rise to your feet. “It’ll dry. Besides, I think it’s pretty fucking hot,” He purred. He brought you over in front of his full length mirror, bringing your hands to either side of it to hold yourself up for support. “You look so beautiful, just watch yourself crumble for me,” Jack ordered. You could hear the clinking of his belt, the demon then wrapping his arms around your waist.

The height difference was one that couldn’t be ignored. Originally you didn’t think it would be possible for Jack to fuck you standing. That was of course until one eventful morning in the shower made it possible. All he had to do was pick you up and guide you down onto his cock. He did just that, watching you awkwardly balance on your tip toes to stay standing. As many times as you took him it always felt the same, your walls spasming around him as you struggled to take his girth.

“You’re doing so well for me beautiful, now open your eyes and watch,” Jack purred, placing a kiss on the side of your head. You felt him bottom out inside of you, the bulge of his cock visible through your dress. You whimpered as he let you adjust to him, his ears twitching at the sound of your heart beat. It always sped up when he first entered you, creating an addicting sympathy he wanted to hear forever. He swallowed as his gaze fell down to your neck, the urge to cover you in marks ensuing.

Jacks large hands grabbed your hips, slowly guiding you up and down his cock. “Fucking- fuck,” You moaned, struggling to keep your eyes open. Jack couldn’t control himself as he thrusted into you, his mind emptying entirely. “Such a good mate for me, taking me like this,” He panted. He licked the tender side of your neck, a chill running down your spine as he continued to fuck you. “You like this huh? Being used like my own personal fleshlight?” Jack chuckled darkly. Your head fell forward, your eyes screwing shut.

“Oh don’t get all shy on me now. Look at yourself,” Jack ordered. He slithered one hand up to your face, forcing you to look up. “Watch as I breed you mate. Fucking watch,” Jack rambled, grinning as your lips puckered out like a fish. Your noises were sinful, Jack couldn’t help but have an egotistical sense of pride. You could feel your second orgasm coming, your hands grabbing onto Jacks arm.

“J-Jack i’m gonna cum,” You panted. Jack’s hand slithered to your throat, squeezing the airway. “Not yet mate, wait for me,” He ordered. He continued to snap his hips into yours, your body beginning to shake as you tried to listen. “F-f-fuck I can’t-” You rambled. You moaned as you felt him choke you harder. “Awe you wanna cum so badly? Go on, cum. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jack huffed. The cord inside of you snapped, your body trembling as Jack came undone inside of you. Cumming anywhere besides deep in your cunt was out of the question, your pussy often dripping with his seed.

For a brief moment Jack held you in place, enjoying the feeling of your abused walls settling down around his shaft. “EJ?” You panted, still dazed. Your fingertips traced over the bulge that showed through your stomach. “Yeah?” Jack hummed. He wiped your smudged eye makeup, trying to clean you up without taking you off of his cock. “We’re still supposed to be getting married you know,” You chuckled. Jack playfully sighed, rolling his non existent eyes. He lifted you off of him, your bare feet hitting the wooden floor.

You turned around, pressing your lips to his. You smiled into the kiss, Jacks hands going to help you fix your dress. “How kind of you good sir,” You say teasingly, both of you letting out a genuine chuckle. A loud knock made both of you jump, Jacks eyebrows furrowing.

“Guys i’m not going to come in I know what you guys are up to but everyone’s hungry can you come get married already?” Ben asked. Jack quickly redressed himself, the two of you making sure the other was presentable. Once you both were properly dressed Jack opened the door. Ben’s eyes were buried in his hands. “Ben you can look at us you know,” Jack said, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing his mask. The blonde shook his head. You stuck your head out from behind Jack.

“You really don’t wanna see me naked?” You asked curiously. You couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles as Ben quickly looked at you. Jack went to hit him, the blonde dodging his hit. “You gotta be faster than that Jacky boy,” He said teasingly, running down the hallway. Jack looked at you, his blue mask secured to his face. You stood on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss to his mask before encouraging him, “Go get em tiger, i’ll make sure the bridal party is ready.”

The bridal party in question was standing in beside the alter. Toby was your maid of honor, the ticking time bomb the most excited out of the three of them. Masky and Hoodie on the other hand, could not believe you roped them into this. “They’re fucking right now aren’t they?” Masky asked. Their gazes fell on Jack chasing Ben across the yard. “Maybe Ben got a peak, lucky man,” Hoodie snickered. Masky elbowed his partner, rolling his eyes. “They’re going on a honeymoon right? We’re never gonna get any sleep if they stay here after this is over,” Masky grumbled. They watched as Jack tackled Ben, the two tumbling to the ground.

“Where could they even go for a honeymoon?” Hoodie questioned. Toby waved cheerfully as you walked out of the back door. “They’re going to a remote cabin Slender got for them, isn’t that sweet?” He asked, smiling as you wobbled across the yard. Masky and Hoodie exchanged glances before resuming a calm facade. “Ten dollars says she’s pregnant by the time she gets back,” Hoodie said immediately. Masky grabbed a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and showed it to his friends. “Make it twenty, not physically possible,” Masky replied. He raised his eyebrows as he watched Ben climb Jack like a jungle gym, the two in a petty brawl.

“They are aware they’re supposed to be getting married right now right?” Hoodie asked, watching as you smiled and greeted Laughing Jill and Jack. Masky sighed, reaching in his pocket and grabbing a box of cigarettes. “You can’t do that! This is a sacred ceremony!” Toby gasped, his head twitching to the side. Masky dug around in his suit pockets for a lighter. “Yeah yeah it’ll be fine kid. How long are we required to be here anyways? Boss was pretty vague with us,” Masky asked. Toby’s smile was cheerful as Hoodie handed Masky a lighter.

“He said till dawn.”

[eustasskidagenda]

anon asked: Hi! Jumping into your ask box to continue the 'afraid of having sex' series. Still with a female reader and the exact same prompt. But this time, with Usopp & Sabo because they are underrated. And also with Ace, Shanks and Mihawk. We need the whole cast with this headcanon! Ty and anon <3

Oh damn, let's go for a round 3 with some soft/dilf/underated boys! I'm so happy to receive a request with Sabo ♡ And sure, a round 4 with more underrated characters would be funny, especially with Killer & Marco. Anyway, for the moment, let's go for Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk :D Thank you for requesting, I hope the outcome will match your expectations!

☆ Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW (generals): MDNI, smut, v!sex, f!reader, more are listed under each character 

WC : 3K

⇢ You can read the part one here and the part two here 

Usopp 

CW : virgin!Usopp, fingering (reader receiving),  oral sex (reader/Usopp receiving), slight pet name (babe), slight dirty talk, protected sex 

(Aw, poor Usopp is probably really stressed too)

Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Due to his lie about his experience, he would feel extremely anxious. He claimed to have had sex many times, but it was a total lie. He's a virgin. When you confess that you're afraid because it's been a while since your last sex, he's relieved. At least you're nervous together, isn't that nice? Nevertheless, he is also ashamed and embarrassed by his deceit. He wants to be honest like you have been with him! But he's so nervous about your reaction.

"Y/N… I lied… I mean… I may exaggerate a bit my experience…" he would babble, avoiding your gaze. "It's possible that… this actually is my first time..." while fidgeting nervously and sweating wildly.

He's confused when you burst into laughter. "It was quite obvious to me. You're a bad liar." 

Poor Usopp is even more flustered. "Still, you have to make it for your lie." 

Even if you're not mad at him, he's still ashamed and jittery. Maybe as much as you, or even more. His lips would gently touch yours, and his shaky hands would roam all over your body. 

Please, guide this poor boy. Tell him how to pleasure you. 

His hands would be a bit butterfingered while circling your clit or fondling your breasts. Luckily, he cares about your needs and has a creative mind, so he would be pretty good at figuring out how your body works. 

Eager boy. He would stare intently at your pussy, astonished by its increasing wetness. He would never be satisfied. The way you squirm, moan and clench around his fingers is mesmerizing. 

"Babe, you're so wet down there. Love how you clench around me. Please do the same for my cock." 

And if you decide to go down on him… damn, Usopp would just turn into a whimpering, whiny mess. Would probably cum because he can't handle how good your mouth feels around his member.

Poor boy would be so embarrassed to cum that fast.

He would make an effort to repay the favor. But finding the right angle with his long nose is quite a challenge. "Ouch, my nose" all the two seconds. 

Again, eager boy. He would remain between your legs throughout the entire day and still crave more. Your pussy tastes and feels so good for his sanity. Please keep moaning his name, it's music to his ears. And if you pull on his hair, burying his head against your folds, he's in heaven. 

He's a conscientious boy, so he would wear a condom, use lube, and make sure you're relaxed enough. 

He would try to be as close to you as possible while slowly burying himself within you. Your walls stretching around his thick girth would be so captivating for him. 

"You're alright? Can I keep going?" 

A lot of shudders, shaky hands on your hips while he slowly starts to thrust into your tightness. "Babe, you feel so good clenching around me…" 

He would absolutely love to watch his cock covered with your wetness sliding in and out of you.

Wouldn't last that long because it's so overwhelming for him. But damn, he's so eager to make you squirm and moan all night (and all the next day...) He's already addicted to your body.

Sabo

CW : Dirty talk, fingering and oral sex (reader receiving), mention of choking, mention of spanking, slight teasing, protected sex, slight praises, slight pet name (sweetie)

Sabo is probably a very kinky boy. Pretty sure he would enjoy wrapping his claws around your neck and choking you. Or to make you wear his hat while you ride him. Or use his gloves to spank you, or... yeah, the list is endless. However, his soul is also kind and compassionate. He's a revolutionary, a big brother, and a protective person who craves freedom and justice. So if you're afraid because it's been a long time or nervous about getting hurt, he would be really nice to you.

"Sure sweetie, we'll take it slow." with a big, reassuring smile. 

Again, revolutionary boy. He would ensure that you are comfortable with each action and constantly verify your consent. "You're alright?" , "Can I touch you there?", "Can I keep going?"

"You're so beautiful" while looking at your naked body, covering it with a lot of sweet kisses along your collarbone, neck, breasts and lower stomach. He would be delighted to stroke your breasts for hours, as they feel so warm and soft in his hands. 

"Can I take them off?" While reaching for your panties.

Upon your nod, he would pull your panties down your legs with his teeth. Just to tease you. He would look at you, leaving a kiss on your inner thighs. He's good  (and a god) when it comes to anticipation. 

"You look so pretty for me. Want me to go down on you?" 

He would gently massage your legs with his thumbs, circling your inner thighs as you nod. The more you shiver and squirm in need, the more he feels satisfied with himself. "Need me so bad, Y/N?" 

Once more, kinky boy. He would love to spread your legs wide open to get a better look at your pussy clenching around nothing. Before finally going down on you. And damn, Sabo is a god when it comes to eating you out. He's really attentive to your needs and always cares about your reactions. He will follow your leads if you guide him or tell him what you like. Please, bury his head against your wet folds. He likes that. The way your body arching, the way you moan, beg, shudder, cry out while he circles your clit. It's music to his ear. If you cum against his lips, then, Sabo would be in pure heaven.

"Look at how wet you are. Can't wait to fill you up." While pushing two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. And as he pulls them off, oh, sure, he would show you how wet you are because he's a tease. Before licking his fingers covered in your wetness. "You taste so good. I bet you pussy will be amazing around my cock."

If you tell him you're ready for more, Sabo, being a smart and responsible boy, would use a condom and lube.

"Shit… you're so tight. You're okay? Want me to stop?" While slowly burying his length inside you.  "That's my brave girl, taking all of my cock so well."

Sabo would make an effort to stay soft and sweet just for you. But you feel too good around him, how you clench and spasm around his girth, your tightness, and wetness... it’s too much for him.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside you."

He would let out a shaky breath, gently steadying you while thrusting into you. Really beautiful moans close to your ears. 

And really clingy during the aftercare. 

(In his mind, he's already thinking about your next round and how his claws would look awesome on your throat.)

Ace

CW : creative use of DF (in a soft/sweet way), slight praises, fingering, face sitting, protected sex, slight dirty talk

If you explain to Ace that you're always nervous and stressed during sex, his first reaction is to panic. And to ask for help from Marco, because Ace is kind and afraid of hurting you. Or not being good enough for you. So he needs some advice, and well, Marco is a doctor. 

Once he's more informed, the next time you're having a passionate making-out session, Ace would try his best to reassure you and be extra sweet for you.

In fact, he doesn't have a lot of experience. He always thinks he's not worthy. So it's not easy for him to be intimate, and random hookups are not something he's comfortable with. 

He would sit you on his laps and cherish every inch of your body. Your curves are a sight to behold. He feels lucky to touch you. His hands are probably shaking a bit because he's both nervous and excited. He would slowly reach for your bottom and cup your ass cheeks with his hands. "I need you so bad, Y/N" 

He would always make certain that you are okay with every action. Like, asking you before touching your breasts, taking off your clothes etc. Such a sweet boy. 

He would just push your panties to the side, feeling the heat between your thighs. "Can I?" His voice thick with need and adoration. Your tightness and warmth around Ace's fingers would make him mesmerized. He would hold you tight while fingering you until you beg and beg for more.

Even if his cock is throbbing with need, but he would be focused on you, and only you. "You're so pretty. Feel how hard I am for you?" 

"You taste so good. I want more" while licking his fingers. 

He would ask you to sit on his face. Because he's so eager. He loves your body, how you feel, how you taste, and the warmth of your thighs pressed against his face. He would love to feel you squirm as he circles your cheek with his fingers and push the tip of his tongue inside you. 

Would playfully slap your ass or grip it to press your pussy more firmly against his lips.

When you tell him you're ready for more, Ace would feel a bit nervous again. So he would let you straddle him. At least you can control the depth. Plus, your body is beautiful, so cowgirl is an awesome position to watch all of your curves again and again.

"Fuck, you're amazing"

Another responsible boy, he would use a condom. Ace is too frightened to have a child by accident. 

He would hold your hips tightly and the moment his cockhead starts to stretch your walls, Ace would turn into a moaning mess because it feels too good for his poor soul. 

"Y/N, you feel so damn good." The more you impale yourself on his length, the more Ace would moan. The sensation is too overwhelming for him, he can't handle it. 

"You're taking me so well. You're alright? You feel me right there?" While gently rubbing his palms along your lower stomach. And if it hurts a bit, he would use his DF to gently massage your lower stomach, soothing you with the nice warmth. 

Ace will lay you on your back and nuzzle his head on your neck once you feel comfortable and relaxed. Although his thrusts are gentle, you can still feel the force behind them. He’s probably holding back a bit. He would be fond of the way you squirm when the cold pearls of his collar touch your skin. 

Beautiful, really beautiful moans. 

And would randomly fall asleep on you after he cum. With his cock still inside you.

Shanks 

CW : face sitting, slight praises, dirty talk, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, pet name (pretty girl), slight size kink, teasing

Shanks may be kinky as Sabo, but if you're already nervous due to stress, he won't bend you over the table to fuck you senseless. 

"Aw, my pretty girl is stressed? Why? Because I'm too big?" with a playful smile on his lips. He's such a tease.

He would be a little goofy, with some silly dad jokes that would make you laugh. Shanks is not always goofy. I mean, if you want him to fuck you rough, he can. But if you're nervous, then he won't mind making things extra fun. The more you laugh, the less nervous you are after all, and that's all he wants. He likes when sex is enjoyable and natural. 

"Maybe I'm armless, but at least, I'm pretty good with my last hand. Wanna try?" with a playful grin.

And damn, he's right. He is talented, even if he has only one hand. The easiest position for Shanks is to sit on his face. First, you're pretty and he loves feeling your juice drip on his chin. Secondly, he's sure he won't lose his balance and just fall on you randomly. Keyword: goofy.

Your pussy's taste would be so intoxicating. Perhaps even better than alcohol. With his hand, he would circle your clit with his thumb and push two thick fingers inside you. You can't help but cum as he stimulates you with his hand and tongue. 

"Mh, that's my pretty girl, all wet and open for me. Look at how my fingers are sliding with ease. I bet you're ready for my cock?" 

He would love how you feel flushed and flustered by his words. Such a tease. 

As you look at his thick and long cock twitching in need, he would just laugh playfully. "Aw pretty girl, don't be afraid, it doesn't bite. I'll stretch you out juuuust nice." 

Shanks is probably a bit lazy sometimes and also loves to look at his girl, so his favorite position is always when you're on top of him. He enjoys observing your curves and how you use him for your own pleasure. 

"Ride me, don't be lazy." 

(So sassy.)

"That's it, take me all the way in." As you gradually impale yourself onto his thick length. Despite your nervousness, he did a fantastic job of soothing you. He will try to alleviate your pain with more silly jokes if it's still painful. "Atta girl" as he's finally balls deep inside of you. 

He would love to watch you bounce up and down as you ride him. His gaze would be fixed on your breasts or his throbbing cock, sliding in and out, all covered by your wetness. "Fuck, you're really swallowing me. You like how nice I'm stretching you?" 

"You're riding me so well. You love riding your captain, huh?" He would squeeze your breasts or ass playfully while you're doing all the work. And, because he's a tease, he would circle your clit with his thumb. He would laugh as you squirm and coat his cock with your juice. "What's wrong, pretty girl?" 

Really chatty and playful throughout the whole time. If you tease him about his missing arm, he would laugh first. If you continue, be ready for him to fuck you senseless, pull on your hair, spank you, and even bite you. "Say that again?" 

(Sure, he would know you're unable to answer because of his relentless pounding. That’s too bad, right?)

Mihawk 

CW : slight size kink, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), mention of knife play, slight praises, slight dirty talk, protected sex 

Mihawk is a gentleman. While he may have some kinks, sex with him is always about consent and respect. Even when he's extra rough.

So if you tell him you're really stressed because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and because of his size… he would be extra careful. 

Mihawk is really classy, so first thing first, he would run you a hot bath for the both of you. And tell you a couple of times how beautiful your bare body is. Gently, he would kiss all of your wet skin, easing your fears, and fondling your breasts. It's probably a bit scary to be so intimate with Mihawk, because his piercing eyes are really impressive. But he's a god when it comes to observing your reactions and learning from them. 

If you lean against his torso, his cock will be pressed against your back. All throbbing with need. But he won't ask you anything: he wants to satisfy you and only you. 

He would love the feeling of your breasts against his palms and sucking on your nipples. "I'm sure you're already all wet for me." Yes, even with the water, he would still know. Again, piercing eyes. "Wanna bet? Let's find out" 

And then, he would carry you to the bedrooms. Extra luxurious and precious bedsheets. The texture is heavenly on your skin. Mihawk would kiss every inch of your body, then spread your thighs. "Look like I was right" with a slight grin, before burying his head between your legs. 

Again, he's all about anticipation and elegance. He won't lick your folds as if he were a savage without manners. His first step would be to kiss your inner thighs. Keyword: teasing. He wants to see you squirm and loves to watch how wet you are already, just for a bit of teasing and anticipation. Perhaps he has a fantasy about running his sword (the small one around his neck) along your inner legs. In a soft way, sure. But he won't do it because you're already anxious.

And when he finally starts to eat you out, damn, it's pure bliss. He would constantly look at you with his hawk eyes to gauge your reactions. Figuring out how your body is working won't take him a long time. Be prepared to cum at least once against his lips. "Stay still." If you squirm too much because it feels too good.

After you cum, he would reach for your face and lips and kiss you. "You like how you taste? Because I do." With a playful grin. 

Another smart man, so he would both use a condom and lube. To reassure you, he would allow you to ride him. As you slowly sink yourself down his length, Mihawk would fall into an exquisite loss of control. 

While holding onto your hips or bedsheets, he would exhale a shaky breath. "You're so tight, I love how you clench around me." While circling your clit with his thumb to ease your potential pain. 

"You're riding me so well. That's my girl." Before giving you his hat. So now, you're a real cowgirl. Seeing his girl riding him with his hat would make his cock throb with need. His hands would tightly hold your hips to help you move up and down his length. The sloshing noises, your moans, shudders, how you clench around him, how your juice is dripping down his cock, how your breasts are bouncing with each thrust… it's too much to handle for his sake. 

"You're so pretty for me." 

He would end up really needy to feel your skin against his. Get ready to stay still on your back as he fucks you with a strong yet gentle pace. A lot of eye contact and intertwining fingers. 

And his deep sighs, maybe even low grunts. A pure delight.

[vrystalius]

HELLOOO! Can you write a kokoshibo x reader were the reader kissed him out of no where and then it gets kinda heated (THEY START MAKING OUT)! No smut! Just suggestive 🙏 TY IF YOU DO MY REQUEST

Surprise kiss

You just wanted to tease your husband a little during his meditation by kissing his nose.

Pairing: Kokushibo x gn!reader

Here’s the surprise kiss with Douma and Akaza <3

He has been mediating all day and night now. What is he even thinking about? Is Kokushibo thinking about anything at all? Or is he brooding about something? You never knew the difference, his face always remains the same. What does he look like when he’s happy, sad or angry? Well, you’ve seen him get angry before, or at least mildly infuriated at Douma’s antics. But today, you decided to find out what his face looks liar when he gets surprised by your sweet, sweet affections!

You slowly crouched towards the kneeling form of , trying to catch any movement in his expression. You’re really praying that Kokushibo is not sensing your presence or else you might be met with his judgmental stare. You know that one very well. Finally, you lunged at him and peppered his face in light kisses, giggling a little. He let out a small confused grunt, instinctively wrapping his hands around your waist.

“What is the meaning of this?”

His voice was a little deeper than usual and Kokushibo had his lower and upper eyes still closed. His expression was unsurprisingly, again, unmoving and unimpressed. Although you swore you saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes, but he did not seem flustered or even surprised at all… So much for wanting to see a different expression on his face. Your smile started to drop and you pouted at him.

“I just wanted to surprise you.”

He nodded and continued to look unimpressed. His arms were still steadily wrapped around your waist, his grip started to get a little tighter, pulling you a little closer onto his lap.

“You managed to achieve that.”

Kokushibo’s voice dropped by an octave, his lips hovering right over yours. He firmly grabbed your chin and angled your face for him. Your breath hitched for a moment when you felt his cold lips on yours. His hand moved downwards to your neck, his fingers grazing against the delicate nape of your skin, silently asking for permission for something. He slowly pulled away from your lips with his eyes half hooded. A small smirk spread on his lips.

“May I?…”

Your small nod told him everything he needed to know. Kokushibo slowly leaned in, his teeth grazing the fragile skin on his neck. He placed a couple light kisses before finally gently biting down. Pain washed over you but was quickly followed by a wave of excitement and something similar to pleasure. The demon hummed loudly at the taste of your sweet blood on his lips, his hands slowly rubbing up and down your sides. You felt your husband shudder a little in your arms before pulling away. Your blood was slowly dripping down his chin. He wiped it off with his sleeve.

“Divine. You are truly divine.”

Finally, you noticed how dazed his expression looked. All six of his eyes are closed and his lips curved into a small, almost unnoticeable smirk. Kokushibo’s expression looked satisfied, seemingly content with the taste of your blood on his tongue. You’re actually quite familiar with that expression, you’ve seen it a couple times during certain activities.

“It’s hard to resist and bite you again. You are testing my self-control. Again.”

💠

Thank you for requesting and so sorry it took so long! By the way, I’ll be going on a three day class-trip tomorrow and I’m not sure if I’ll find the energy or time to write anything, but I’ll try to write something in advance and just edit and post it every day! Hope you understand and enjoy them! And thank you for your continued support, we’re almost at 400 followers and I only started posting/writing a month ago. I’m surprised how well my things are being perceived and I’m forever grateful for all of you! <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

And really, really take care of yourselves. Remember that you are important!

[azullumi]

"baby, stay beside me a little longer" ; aventurine

premise — how you spend your day with him.

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship, fluff, domestic, not proofread, text messages, 1.7k words ; headcanons

tagging — @toorurs (hi, we don't mention the event fics we have to do hahaha)

note — i miss him and i had the urge to write skincare aventurine. 3 DAYS LEFT UNTIL HIS BANNER

morning

As sunlight streams through the window accompanied with the gentle chirping of the birds outside, there’s no guarantee that one of you always wakes up first before the other. Sometimes it’s him that wakes up first and sometimes it’s you—it occasionally depends if one of you has plans later on or has a free day.

“What’s on your schedule for today?” You ask him, watching him as he buttons his shirt. Daylight illuminates the room and the sound of leaves rustling outside as the breeze flies past fills your morning, albeit you are still laying in bed, not having the desire to move. Aventurine is the opposite of your state right at this moment—already fresh out of his bath (the faint scent of his soap clings to his skin), dressing into his work clothes, though his hair is still messy. Honey-dyed locks tousled, with some strands sticking to the back of his neck and some on his face.

“I have a client to interview this afternoon. It was scheduled for next week but they changed it to today.” There was a hint of frustration in his tone as he spoke. You could immediately tell that the reschedule caused some issues with his plans so you didn’t press on any further. “Will you be home late tonight then?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll be home early.”

“What do you want to eat for dinner?” You say, remembering that you had no plans for today so you’ll just be staying home the whole time. Aventurine puts on his blazer, humming as he thought for a moment, before he answers: “I was thinking of taking you out tonight.”

You beam a smile at him, watching as he fixes the mess out of his hair and sprays perfume on himself soon after, knowing that the scent of it will follow you while he’s gone. “Oh, really? Where?” However, he doesn’t answer but instead, walks towards you and bends down to your level to give you a quick peck on your lips.

“You’ll see.”

He’ll often ask for your help in tying his tie. He knows how to do it, even much better than you, but he prefers the messy work of your hands than his own. Some of his co-workers would point out how his tie looks messy as if he did it in a rush and while he may laugh and nod, he won’t do anything about it. To him, it’s a reminder of you.

MORNING LAZINESS. It just happens but it’s not always that it does—you’re there besides him still too sleepy and grumbling on not wanting to leave the bed yet and how could he refuse? Sure, your hold on him is not that tight and he could easily slip out of your grasp, and sure, you may be close to falling asleep again and you won’t notice if he leaves but your skin is warm and close, your hands are soft on his, and the sound of your breathing comforts him. How could he?

noon

Your middays are often spent separately—both of you accomplishing your own sets of responsibilities. Aventurine would occasionally send you messages asking if you have had lunch already, asking what you’re doing, and telling you about how everything is going for him. Although the conversation doesn’t last that long, always being interfered with by either someone or something.

Your phone buzzes and the screen lights up as you receive a new notification. You were expecting a nonsense reminder from one of your apps but instead, it was a message and it was from none other than your lover, Aventurine.

However, on rare occasions that the both of you are at home and have no set plans for the day, he’ll spend his time together with you. You want to go on a spontaneous date? Sure, he was going to ask you out anyways. Feeling lazy and just want to be in bed the whole day? That’s fine, he wasn’t planning on doing anything. . You want to do something together but not want to go out? Perhaps you can bake and try out this new recipe, that is if you have the needed ingredients at your home.

evening

Evenings are saved for the both of you, which means nothing related to work. It’s the only time of the day where you and he are free from any of your responsibilities—unless, of course, he still has some things to do but that rarely happens. He’ll often come home with a gift or a bouquet of flowers that you like; he’ll only answer you with, “Just because,” if ever you would ask him what’s the occasion. It’s just something that he does, something that you should get used to.

However, there are moments where you have to spend your night alone as he has to come home late and there are moments that you’ll wait for him and he’ll come home to find you asleep on the sofa. A pang of guilt hits him as he crouches in front of you, brushing a few strands away from your face and whispering an apology that only the moon could hear. He’ll carry you to bed soon after.

The way you spend your evenings with him can vary—it could be a game night between you two which will become heated due to how competitive the both of you can be, or a movie night wherein looking for what to watch can take a longer time than the movie itself, or just something simple and relaxing for the both of you.

“You always have so many interesting stories to tell.”

“Is it bad?” You answer him, worry lingering in your voice. You were telling him of how your day went and how you saw something fascinating when you went out earlier, and he was sitting behind you, drying your hair since you had just taken a bath. You could feel his fingers run through your hair, the dryer in hand as he pointed the nozzle towards the crown of your head. The air blowing from it feels warm—just enough to not feel like it’s going to burn off your scalp—and combined with the gentleness of his hand, it all feels comforting, soothing.

“No, it’s not. I just feel bad and perhaps,” He turns off the dryer and places it down beside him, “I also feel guilty.”

You immediately turn to him, eyebrows knitted as your expression warps into a mix of surprise and concern: “But why?”

He hesitates, averting away from your gaze, “I don’t have much to tell you, I don’t have exciting or interesting stories to say.” He’s afraid you’ll find him boring, that you’ll get tired of him but what he doesn’t realize is that you won’t, and you never will.

“That's completely okay. You don't need to have something to say all the time.” You’re fine with it—even if you have to sit in silence with him, even if the days are becoming repetitive and tiring, as long as you’re with him, as long as you feel his hand in yours, it will all be fine. You touch the side of his cheek, “I’m just happy to spend time with you and talk about anything, or nothing at all. How has your day been?”

He turns his head to look at you—an alluring pair of vibrant and pristine hues, a pool of clear and vivid richness hidden in the depths of his eyes meets your gaze once more; “Nothing much happened. I met some clients and helped them, had a short meeting, and just did my work.”

“You didn’t go to the casino?”

“I was planning to but I wanted to see you more.”

A soft laugh escapes from your lips: “Is that so?” And he only hums as an answer, leaning forward to snake his arms around your waist and pull you closer to him before he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder. And you swear you hear him whisper the words, “I love you.”

Most likely has a nighttime skincare routine which he does with you (there’s no way his skin is that flawless and fair for no reason like you’re telling me that’s genetics???). He’ll be coming out of the bathroom with a clay mask or sheet mask on his face and he can’t speak because he doesn’t want to mess up the placement of the product and he’ll help you in putting yours on. The both of you on the bed with your robes on, hair either pushed back or tied, and there’s a pair of cucumber slices on your eyes along with a mask on your face.

He has trouble sleeping and it takes a lot for him to fall asleep—he’ll tire himself out, going on late night runs, exercise, drinking anything that could help him feel sleepy, anything. He’ll often spend his time tossing and turning while in bed and perhaps even counting sheep in his mind but somehow, just listening to your voice or the sound of your breathing makes it all easy for him. He’ll listen to you talk and tell stories and he’ll feel his eyes getting heavier in each second, as a warm and soft feeling envelops him like a blanket, and your voice will turn into a distant lullaby that guides him into slumber.

He wouldn’t even notice that he’s falling asleep in each second but maybe you do, maybe you’ll see the way he relaxes as his eyes threaten to close and his breathing comes steady, and maybe that’s why your voice keeps on getting softer until it turns into humming as you stroke his hair gently. He’ll apologize in the morning, telling you that perhaps he was so tired and he didn’t mean to fall asleep but you’ll assure him that it’s all okay.

Through the mundane things, in the boring days and the exciting ones, in days that you and him argue, in days that it all feels unbearable and suffocating, in every single moment with you, he’ll love you (tear him apart from skin to bones, see him for his heart, and you’ll notice your name carved into it).

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[starlovesganyu]

I crave more of your HCs. Since I'm sick may I request genshin girls treating S/O while he's sick? Thank you

taking care of you!

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

how they would take care of you when you are sick

ty for the ask!

various characters x gn!reader

characters: clorinde, yae miko, kokomi, navia, furina

warnings: none

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

clorinde -`✮´-

• would immediately rush over the moment she found out you had fallen ill

• would be worried, but not worried enough to not give you a stern talking to first

"this is why i told you to wear your jacket yesterday!"

• but she can't keep the facade up for long, and eventually just sits on the bed next to you, gently brushing your hair off your face

• she'll do everything for you, but that also means you are not leaving that bed until she thinks you are fully recovered

• will not leave your side until you are feeling better, even rescheduling her duels because you matter more <3

• tells you interesting events from her line of work and keeps you updated on important current events

"if you ever need anything dear i'm right here okay?"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

yae miko -`✮´-

"humans are such fragile creatures..."

• immediately whisks you away to stay at the shrine for the duration of your illness so she can keep a constant eye on you

• she can't stay by your side constantly because she's a busy woman, but dedicates a shrine maiden to act as your caretaker

• will make an effort to spend more time around you though

• you will be banned from leaving the shrine until you are all better-don't try to sneak off though-all the shrine maidens have been notified of your presence

escape is impossible anyway-miko sees all

• in her free time, she'll read you some of your favorite light novels to help you pass time

• if you're really lucky, she'll even let you hug one of her pink fluffy tails

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

kokomi -`✮´-

• she has prepared for this the moment you two got together

• has treatment plans for every illness and had the medicine prepared in advance so you are in very good hands

• doesn't stop her from constantly fussing and worrying over you though

"are you sure you are okay? you're showing signs of..."

• better follow her plan or she's going to become even more stressed, and she's already super stressed from her position </3

• even if you insist you don't need it, will have soldiers assigned to your every need, with a doctor on standby just in case

• even has a personal cook stationed just to cook your favorite dishes!

• you'll have access to all of her books to read while you're sick, and she'll recommend you some of her favorites

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

navia -`✮´-

• immediately on the case, peppering you with questions in order to get an accurate diagnosis

• doesn't mean to stress you out, she's just really concerned, and she doesn't want to lose someone so close to her again </3

• after some reassurance that you are going to be completely okay, and that it's just a common cold, she'll calm down

• sadly can't always be by your side constantly as being president of the Spina is a very busy position, but she will have some of her subordinates watch over you while she is away working

• she has trouble focusing on her work because she keeps thinking and worrying about you :(

• will bake you as many sweets as you want!

• when you finally recover from your cold, it feels like the world's been lifted off her shoulders

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

furina -`✮´-

• i'm so sorry but you are not in good hands ;-;

• at first she'll try to take good care of you like the star she is, but she'll end up like giving you the wrong type or too much medicine

she's trying that's all that matters!

• cooks you some of the best macaroni you've ever had though!

• will end up just calling neuvillette for help, who'll summon sigewinne to heal you

• she'll stay by your side the entire time and read you books or act out some of her favorite scenes to help you pass time

• feels really bad that she couldn't do more to help you, so please comfort her </3

SHE DESERVES THE WORLD OKAY

thanks for reading <3!