#every line I make something up in my head but I feel like I will be surprised when the secrets will be revealed

[bonus-links]

MY TIME HAS COME please discuss in great detail the GrooZeLink dynamics in prologue part 5. I am so intrigued by the stark differences between this shot:

And this shot:

The scar on triforce. The hiding. Please tell me everything there is to know

this is 4 u groozelinkers

why did i do text bubbles this way. how did anyone read this comic. god bless.

this is essentially Loft Monologues His Feelings The Update. It was very important to me that the audience understands where Loft's head is at from the get-go. and like listen, sometimes u have to have a bestie debrief even if ur bestie is a dormant sword spirit who can't talk to u. if bonus links was a musical this would be Loft's I want song lol

jokes aside I think Loft comes here to talk to Fi a lot. it makes him feel both better and worse

LOFTS FI IMPRESSION i feel like he used to do this a lot and thought it was so funny and every time Fi would be like. objectively that is not what i sound like. also, peep the textbox pattern!

even though Loft has trouble acclimating to life on the surface, it was important to me to show that it's not all like. angst and doom and gloom. But that's kind of the problem right? things are good, and he feels like this anyway. also I did my best to include most of the young adult skyloft npcs, I feel like the older one have mostly stayed up on Skyloft for now. LAKE TRIP!!

this is a direct reference to this shot from the game. this line of dialogue is an important thing to keep in mind. tbh the entire reason this comic exists is bc i thought too hard about the implications of skyward sword— what if you found out your girlfriend was really your god, who had orchestrated your entire life? wouldn't that make everything feel a little strange, even if you love her more than anything? much to think about

I like the scar through the triforce mark as a kind of symbolic gesture, but there's not really any intended meaning behind the two pieces of the triforce is goes through. feel free to interpret it however u like tho lol

AND THIS SHOT my headcanon is that Loft doesn't actually help much with the early building in Faron. It's partially because he can't- he pushes his body to the limit during his quest, and then completely crashes when it's over, and it takes a loooong time to even start recovering. He spends most of the time sleeping.

But it's also partially because he doesn't actually want to move to the surface. He wants to stay on Skyloft. In my mind it's like. he fought really hard to return to a state of normalcy that doesn't exist anymore, and that's hard to come to terms with. This is Zelda and Groose's project, and while he'll go along with it, he's not that enthusiastic about it. It's a source of tension in their relationship. Combined with Zelda often acting as a mouthpiece for the gods, it starts to grate on Loft that this aspect of his future has also apparently been decided.

tldr groozelink love each other a lot but things are definitely not perfect, and especially not right now

this is actually something I intended to get a little bit more into in ch2, but the chapter kind of. wrote itself away from it. every time I tried to include a scene with it, it felt too much like I was forcing characters to have too many heart-to-hearts too early. we'll get there eventually

this is an important update in the grand scheme of things :-) mystery mouseketool etc etc

[heavngumi]

✧ things are getting heated this valentine’s !

— ft. fem reader x ayato, thoma, diluc, wriothesley, kazuha, albedo, alhaitham ꒰ separate ꒱ ⋆ minors do not interact! pnv ꒰ unprotected except in alhaitham’s ꒱. lots n lots of oral ꒰ reader giving n receiving ꒱. praise n degradation. fingering. marking. breeding in diluc’s. public sex in kazuha’s … 11k words ₊ 𓂃 

♡ AYATO

there’s a sharp inhale once his eyes fall on you, quiet but telling. the kind that makes anticipation coil thick in your lower abdomen.

kamisato ayato is not a man easily shaken. he is composed, deliberate in his movements, every touch intentional. and yet, when you step into the candlelit bedroom wearing the delicate, white lacy thing you bought for this occasion, something flickers in his eyes—something dangerous.

his lips part slightly. then, he exhales a quiet chuckle, tilting his head as if you’ve presented him with a puzzle he’s eager to solve.

“my, my,” he muses, voice velvet-smooth. “you went through all this effort just for me?”

you don’t get the chance to answer before he crosses the distance between you. his fingertips brush your bare shoulder, featherlight, trailing down the curve of your arm. the heat of his palm settles at your waist, pulling you in, close enough that you can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath.

his gaze traces over you, reverent yet teasing. “it suits you,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips hover just above your ear. “but you must have known that already. you wouldn’t have chosen it otherwise.”

a shiver runs through you at the low timbre of his voice. “i hoped you’d like it,” you admit softly, hands resting against the front of his dress shirt, feeling the warmth of him through the thin fabric.

“oh, i do,” ayato hums, amusement laced with something deeper, something heady. “but now i have a problem, you see.”

you blink up at him, questioning.

he tugs you flush against him, the firm line of his body pressing into yours. his fingers find your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to hold his gaze. the pale lavender tint of his irises darkens as he regards you.

“i don’t know whether to admire you a little longer... or to ruin you completely.”

heat pools low in your stomach at the weight of his words, the promise in them. he’s toying with you, savoring your reaction, and you fall into it so easily.

“ayato...” his name leaves your lips in a breathy whisper.

he groans softly, as if your voice alone undoes him, and then he’s kissing you—slow at first, making sure to savor every press of your lips. but it doesn’t stay that way. his hand slides up your back, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. he tastes of tea and something undeniably him, something you could drown in.

you barely notice the way he guides you toward the bed until the backs of your knees hit the edge. a gasp escapes you as he lowers you onto the sheets, his body covering yours, his lips never leaving your skin. he kisses a slow, burning path down your throat, the heat of his breath making you tremble beneath him.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs against your collarbone. “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

you can only whimper in response, fingers tangling in his silken hair as he continues his way down. every touch, every kiss, is slow, unhurried, worshipful. he’s savoring you, unraveling you piece by piece, until all you can do is sigh his name into the night.

“ayato...” you breathe, wetness pooling low in your new lacy underwear, desperate and needy.

he lifts his head from your skin, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “what is it, love? tell me what you want.”

you swallow hard, every nerve ending alive with desire. “i want you... so badly.”

the grin that erupts on his face is devilish, and it sends another wave of heat coursing through you. “then let me give you what you need,” he murmurs, his voice low and inviting.

his hands begin to steadily explore your body, one moving down to cup your breast while the other trails down your abdomen, teasingly grazing over the lace of your lingerie and dipping beneath to explore just above your core. you arch into him, silently begging for more, your body reacting instinctively to his touch.

“archons, you’re perfect,” he whispers, lifting your legs up, revealing more of you to his hungry gaze. he continues to kiss a path down your body, his mouth burning a trail of fire from your tummy to the hem of your lace panties. when he finally reaches your inner thigh, he places kisses there, making your breath hitch in your throat. “mmm, so soft,” he murmurs, his lips almost worshipping the sensitive skin.

“ayato... p-please,” you beg, tone laced with urgency.

he chuckles, enjoying the neediness in your voice. “as you wish, darling.”

his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your panties, and with one swift motion, they’re discarded, leaving you completely bare before him. you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the raw desire palpable.

“ayato...” you breathe again, but he silences you with a deep kiss, sliding his tongue against yours.

and that's when his fingers find your core, teasing at your wetness, circling agonizingly slow. you gasp into his mouth, your body arching instinctively towards him, desperate for more.

his fingers push deeper, finding that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. “archons, you’re so wet for me,” he growls, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race.

“only for you,” you manage to whimper out, your breath quickening as he continues to work you, curling his fingers just right.

“that’s it, let me hear you, love,” he urges, his thumb rubbing circles over your sensitive nub while his fingers pump in and out of your cunt.

your moans fill the air, mixing with the sound of the waves crashing outside. “a-ayato! yes, just like that. please don’t stop!”

he leans down, kissing along your neck, his breath hot against your ear. “you’re so perfect, so responsive. i want to feel you coming for me.”

his words send you spiraling, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity, making you grasp at the satin sheets below you. “i’m so close... please!”

with a final thrust of his fingers, he expertly flicks your clit, and waves of bliss crash over you, sending you trembling into ecstasy. “ayato!” you cry out, your body shaking beneath him as he guides you through your high, unyielding in his touch.

as you come back to reality, you find him looking down at you with a gaze full of adoration, pride, and desire. “you’re stunning,” he breathes, wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“now, my turn to feel you,” you manage to say, reaching for the hem of his shirt.

he chuckles softly, his hands sliding over your body as he lets you work to undress him, revealing the strong form beneath. you pull the shirt off, feeling your cheeks burn as you take in the sight of him—just for you.

“do you like what you see?” he asks, voice teasing.

“a-absolutely,” you reply, flustered as you you take him in. you lean close enough to tease your warm breath against him, your hands exploring the shape of his muscles, the defined planes of his torso. ayato’s breath hitches in his throat, and you can’t help but smile at the effect you have on him.

you kiss your way down his chest, taking your time tasting him. as you kneel before him, you feel the heat radiating off his thick length, already freed from the confines of his underwear, and your mouth waters at the sight. you wrap your hand around him, giving a gentle squeeze, and he groans softly above you, his head tilted back, eyes closing.

“just like that, love,” he encourages. “you have no idea how much i want this.”

with one smooth movement, you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip, feeling him pulse against your tongue. the taste of him is intoxicating, and you revel in the way he responds to your every caress, his hands finding their way into your hair, guiding you deeper.

“archons, yes,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. “you’re perfect.”

you take him deeper, feeling him fill you, each thrust of your head drawing out more of his heated groans. you press your tongue against his shaft, sucking harder, and he thrusts into your mouth, losing himself in the pleasure.

“f-fuck, that feels amazing,” he gasps, his fingers tightening in your hair as he moves with you, rocking his hips gently.

you moan around him, the vibrations sending him spiraling higher. “just like that, yes,” he murmurs under his breath, losing himself in the moment.

you can feel him nearing the edge, and so you pull away just enough to catch your breath. “i want you to come in my mouth, ayato. please.”

his eyes darken again, desire clear deep within them. “are you sure?”

you nod eagerly, ready to take him fully.

with that, he lets go, thrusting deep into your mouth, filling you completely as his cock hits that sweet spot at the back of your throat. he’s close, so close, and you can feel the tension building within him. “i-i’m going to come—” he warns, his voice strained.

you moan around his lenght to encourage eagerly, ready to taste him.

with a final thrust, he releases himself into your mouth with a low, heated groan, warmth filling you entirely. you swallow him down, savoring every sweet drop, your tongue working, coaxing him through the waves of pleasure, suckling at his tip.

as he pulls back, you lean up to kiss him, sharing the taste of himself, and he moans into your mouth, the intimacy of the moment electric.

“you’re incredible,” he breathes, pulling you into his arms. “now, let me take care of you properly.”

as he lays you back down, you’re consumed with anticipation. you know that the evening is still young, with him promising more pleasure, more intimacy, and a night you’ll both never forget.

“ayato,” you whisper, the candlelight flickering around you, as he positions himself above you.

“happy valentine’s day, my love,” he murmurs, and with that, he takes you whole.

♡ THOMA

the scent of something rich and savory fills the air, a simmering warmth curling through the kitchen. you can hear the quiet sizzle of oil in the pan, the rhythmic sound of a knife against the cutting board, the occasional soft hum of the man standing at the stove.

and archons, what a sight he is.

thoma stands with his back to you, golden skin kissed by freckles and the soft glow of candlelight, his broad shoulders shifting as he works. but it’s not just that. it’s the fact that he’s wearing nothing but an apron, the fabric tied loosely at his back, leaving absolutely everything else bare for your wandering gaze.

you swallow, hard.

“you’re staring.” his voice is all soft as usual, but there’s an unmistakable smirk in it.

“you’re making it impossible not to,” you admit, crossing the space between you.

thoma chuckles, setting down his utensils before turning to face you fully. and archons, it’s worse—better—when you’re standing this close. his skin is flushed from the heat of the stove, golden strands of hair slightly tousled, a bead of sweat trailing down his collarbone. but it’s the way he looks at you, playful yet darkened with something else entirely, that has your breath hitching.

“you know,” he muses, reaching for you, fingers brushing along your wrist before trailing higher, teasing over the bare skin of your arm. “i worked really hard on this dinner for you.”

“i can see that.” you barely hear your own voice over the way your heartbeat pounds in your ears.

thoma hums, tilting his head, eyes flicking down for the briefest moment. then, slowly, deliberately, he takes your hand and places it against his chest. the heat of his skin is searing under your touch, his heart beating steadily beneath your palm.

“but now i’m wondering...” his voice is lower now, rougher. his fingers curl under your chin, guiding your gaze back up to his. “are you even interested in the meal? or something else entirely?”

you barely get the chance to answer before he’s closing the space between you, capturing your lips in a slow, devastating kiss. it’s teasing at first, the press of his mouth soft but lingering, like he wants to take his time with you. but when you sigh against him, fingers curling against his chest, he groans—deep, wanting—and the kiss turns hungry.

his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him, and oh. the apron is the only thing separating you from feeling every inch of him, and it does little to hide the heat radiating off him, the way his body presses against yours with nothing but the flimsiest barrier between you.

“i should finish cooking,” he murmurs against your lips, though he makes no move to pull away.

“should you?” you run your fingers up his back, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch.

thoma chuckles, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. he lingers there, lips barely brushing against your skin as he whispers, “i’m starting to think you have a different meal in mind.”

your breath catches. "you’re not wrong," you admit, squirming against him, the need coiling low in your stomach.

his laughter is low and utterly sinful, the vibration of it sending shivers through you. he presses one last kiss to your throat before pulling back, eyes dark with heat. “dinner first,” he says, voice full of teasing promise. “then i’ll take my time savoring you.”

and archons, the way he says it—like you’re the dessert, something sweet he can’t wait to devour—makes your legs feel weak. you know he means every word despite the teasing.

“are you really going to make me wait?” you challenge, a playful, but needy smile gracing your lips.

thoma raises an eyebrow, stepping back just slightly to let you take in the sight of him. “if you keep looking at me like that, i might just abandon dinner altogether.”

“consider it a compliment,” you say, voice unsteady. then you boldly pull the apron aside, feeling emboldened by the fiery glint in his eyes. the sight of him, fully exposed and radiating raw desire, makes your breath hitch all over again.

he steps closer, surprised but definitely not displeased by your boldness, and tugs the apron from your hands, tossing it aside. “then let me return the favor.”

before you can react, he’s lowering himself, mouth trailing kisses from your collarbone down to your chest, each touch igniting sparks along your skin. you gasp, arching into him as he moves further down, savoring your curves and sinking into the moment.

“thoma, please...” the words spill forth, a helpless plea as your fingers tangle in his hair.

“patience, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “i want to take my time.”

his hands skim down your sides, gently pushing you back against the countertop. the cool wood against your skin contrasts with the heat building within you, and you watch as he kneels before you, his eyes locking onto yours.

“let me show you how much you mean to me,” he promises, his breath warm against your skin as he shuffles closer, his hungry gaze focused on your core.

“oh,” you breathe, anticipation building within you.

he leans in, his tongue flicking out as he makes contact with the apex of your thighs, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he starts teasing you. his tongue dances along your folds, taking his time, every kitten flick deliberate.

“t-thoma!” you moan, squirming closer to him, desperate for more.

“you taste divine,” he murmurs against you, returning to his exploration, fingers digging deeper into your thighs as he pushes you closer to the edge. the sensations are overpowering, waves of pleasure lapping at your senses.

“please, don’t stop,” you implore, hands gripping the edge of the counter, your body responding instinctively to each delightful stroke of his tongue.

he hums in response, sending vibrations rippling through you, further heightening the delicious tension pooling in your belly. keep going, you urge silently, but the way he takes his time, savoring every moment, makes you realize he wants to draw it out.

“thoma, i’m c-close!” you cry out, bucking against his face as he focuses his efforts on that sweet spot driving you wild.

“let go for me, love,” he breathes against your cunt, fingers digging into your flesh as his movements become more insistent. “i want to feel you come.”

with one final swirl of his tongue, pleasure explodes through you in waves of bliss. your body quakes from the intensity, a delicious shudder that runs from your core to your fingertips. “archons, thoma!” you cry, your voice echoing through the kitchen.

he drinks it all in, licking you clean, a proud smile on his lips as he rises back up to meet you. the glow of the candlelight dances in his eyes, and you can see that he’s satisfied—but he’s not done yet.

“m-my turn,” you say breathlessly, feeling a surge of confidence return. you pull him closer, hands roaming over his body, tracing the defined muscles of his back and shoulders.

with a smirk, he lets you push him back until his back meets the wall. you kneel before him, and the way his breath catches is all the encouragement you need.

you grip him firmly, the heat of his length filling your palm, and you lean in, teasing your tongue against the tip. “i want to taste you,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes.

thoma’s breath hitches, and his hands grip the edge of the countertop. “you don’t have to—”

“i want to,” you insist, then take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him.

“fuck!” he groans, his knees nearly buckling at the sensation. you look up at him, watching the way his expression shifts from playful to something almost sinful.

you take him deeper, letting him slide along your tongue as you pull back slightly, creating a delicious tension. time feels like it slows as you lose yourself in the act, breathing him in, hearing the way he breathes your name like a prayer.

“just like that... archons, you’re perfect,” he gasps, pushing further into you, a hand tangling in your hair as you bounce up and down, taking him deeper and deeper.

“thoma, i want you to come in my mouth,” you say, the words muffled but clear enough as you press kisses along his thick lenght. you also want to feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you completely. but for now, you want to savor this moment.

the pleasure on his face, the way he gasps your name, only pushes you faster, more insistent. “yes,” he hissed, his voice thick with lust. “just like that.”

with every thrust, you suck and lick around him, coaxing him closer to the precipice. “i-i’m going to—” he warns, and that only spurs you on more.

“come for me,” you purr against his cock, “i wanna taste you.” and that does it for him as he lets out a cry and spills into your mouth, warm, thick liquid flooding your mouth. you swallow every drop, savoring him, and watching as his face flushes and his breath falters.

when he finally pulls out, you wipe your mouth, grinning at him, mildly proud of the way his legs seem to tremble.

“you’re insatiable,” he says, panting softly, admiration and desire evident in his gaze.

“i think you love it,” you tease, kissing your way back up his body, reclaiming his lips with passion.

“i do,” he replies, kissing you back, cradling your face in his hands.

“now, it’s definitely time to finish dinner,” he says, pulling away with a satisfied grin. the mischievous glint in his eyes makes your heart race. “after all that, i don’t want it to go cold.”

♡ DILUC

the warmth of the sun barely filters through the curtains, casting soft golden hues over the room. the world outside is just beginning to stir, but here, wrapped in the cocoon of diluc’s arms, time stretches slow and unhurried. it’s been too long since you’ve had a morning like this—just the two of you, tangled in the sheets, no duties to pull him away before dawn. and now, with the rare luxury of uninterrupted time, you have no intention of wasting a second of it.

a deep hum rumbles against your skin as diluc shifts beside you, his grip tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer. his chest is bare, warm and solid against you, his body heat seeping into your own. one of his hands now rests low on your back, fingers tracing absent patterns over the curve of your waist, while the other goes to cup your cheek, tilting your face up so he can see you properly.

“good morning,” he murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep, rich and slow like honey.

you smile, brushing a stray strand of crimson hair from his face. “it really is.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, his lips ghosting over your forehead before trailing down, pressing slow, lingering kisses to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. “it’s been too long since i’ve woken up like this.” his voice is lower now, a confession wrapped in longing.

your fingers graze over his shoulder, feeling the tension still lingering beneath his skin. even now, on his day off, duty lingers like a shadow at the edge of his thoughts. but not today.

you press your lips to his jaw, soft but insistent. “stop thinking, luc” you whisper, letting your mouth wander lower, along the column of his throat. “just feel.”

a sharp inhale. his fingers dig into your waist as if steadying himself, a quiet shudder running through him as your lips graze the sensitive spot just beneath his ear.

“you always say things like that,” he murmurs, and there’s a rare, breathless chuckle in his voice. “and then you expect me to have self-control.”

you grin against his skin. “i never said anything about self-control.”

that does it.

before you can react, diluc flips you onto your back, his weight pressing deliciously over you. the look in his eyes—burning, intent, utterly unguarded—makes heat bloom deep in your stomach.

“you’re trouble,” he says, though the way he leans down, brushing his lips over yours, betrays just how little he minds.

“and you love it.”

his quiet groan is swallowed by the kiss that follows, slow and deep, his lips moving against yours with an almost desperate kind of devotion. his hand slides under the sheets, fingers exploring down a familiar path, as if trying to make up for all the recent nights he’s spent away. and when he whispers your name against your lips, worshipful, you know he means it. he’s making up for lost time. and neither of you will be leaving this bed anytime soon.

diluc’s hands roam over your body, the tips of his fingers tracing the curve of your breast, circling your nipple until it hardens under his touch. you arch into him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

“diluc...” you whisper, your voice already breathless.

he smiles against your skin, his lips trailing down to capture your nipple, sucking gently before moving to the other. each flick of his tongue sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you squirm beneath him.

“mmh, you taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. “i could spend all day just like this.”

you thread your fingers through his hair, holding him close. “i wouldn’t mind that at all.”

his hand slides lower, over your stomach, and down to the apex of your thighs. he cups you gently, his fingers pressing against your most sensitive spot through the thin fabric of your underwear. you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand.

“so eager,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear. “i love how responsive you are.”

you can only nod, your breath coming in short pants as he continues to tease you. he slips his fingers beneath the fabric, finding your slick folds. a low groan escapes him as he feels how wet you are.

“always so ready for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

he slides a finger inside you, and you moan, your body clenching around him. soon enough, he adds another one, stretching you, preparing you for what’s to come. his thumb circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you see stars.

“diluc, please...” you beg, your voice barely a whisper.

he looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. “please what?” he asks, his voice a low growl.

“i need you i-inside me,” you manage to say, your body aching with need.

he smiles, a slow, wicked smile that promises so much more. “your wish is my command.”

he pats your cunt before he shifts, positioning himself between your legs. you can feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, and you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. he enters you slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. you moan, your body stretching to accommodate him.

“you feel so good,” he groans, his voice strained with effort. “so tight.”

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. “m-more,” you beg. “i need more.”

he begins to move, his hips thrusting against yours in a steady rhythm. each stroke hits that perfect spot inside you, making you gasp and moan. you cling to him, your nails digging into his back as he picks up the pace.

“yes, just like that,” you cry out, your body meeting his thrust for thrust.

he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. his tongue mimics the movements of his hips, driving you wild with desire. you can feel the tension building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“l-luc, i’m close,” you pant, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

he looks down at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. “let go,” he whispers. “i want to feel you come around me.”

his words are your undoing. you cry out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over you. he continues to thrust, drawing out your orgasm until you’re a trembling mess beneath him.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “you’re so beautiful when you come.”

he slows his pace, giving you a moment to catch your breath. but he’s not done with you yet. he flips you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so you’re on your knees. you look back at him over your shoulder, a wicked smile on your lips.

“again?” you ask, your voice teasing, but nervous.

he grins, his hands gripping your hips. “again,” he confirms, his voice a low growl.

he enters you from behind, his hips slapping against yours with each thrust. the angle is different, his cock hitting new spots inside you that make you gasp and moan. you brace yourself against the headboard, pushing back against him to meet his thrusts.

“yes, yes, yes,” you chant, your body already building towards another orgasm.

he leans over you, his chest pressing against your back. his hand snakes around to cup your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple. you cry out, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

“you like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

“yes,” you gasp. “d-don’t stop.”

he doesn’t. he continues to thrust, his hand moving from your breast to your clit, circling the sensitive bud in time with his movements. you can feel yourself getting closer, your body tensing with each stroke.

“come for me,” he growls, his voice commanding. “squeeze my cock, just like that.”

you do, your body convulsing as another orgasm rips through you. he continues to thrust, drawing out your pleasure until you’re a trembling, sweaty mess beneath him.

“diluc,” you pant, your voice barely a whisper. “i can’t... i can’t take anymore.”

he slows his pace, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. “just one more,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need, almost begging. “i want to come inside you.”

and who are you to deny that? you nod, your body already responding to his words. he flips you onto your back again, his eyes locked on yours as he enters you one last time. his movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust filled with love and desire.

“you’re mine,” he whispers, his voice a low growl. “only mine.”

“yes,” you agree, your voice breathless. “only yours.”

he leans down, capturing your lips. his body tenses, and you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you with his warm seed. you wrap your legs around him, holding him close as he rides out his orgasm.

“i love you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “so much.”

“i love you too,” you whisper, your heart swelling with love.

he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. you snuggle against him, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasms. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you.

“thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “for giving me this. for giving me you.”

you smile, your heart filled with love and contentment. “always,” you whisper. “always for you.”

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley looks up from his desk when the scent of fresh roses overtakes the usual cold steel and parchment of his office. he blinks, surprised, as you step inside, holding a bouquet wrapped in soft ribbon, the red petals vivid against the stark walls of the fortress.

“what’s this?” his voice is low, gruff from hours of work, but there’s something else there—something softer beneath the rough edges.

you smile, placing the flowers down beside the scattered paperwork. “a valentine’s gift.”

for a moment, he just stares. like the idea of someone bringing *him* flowers is foreign, something distant and unattainable.

then, slowly, he exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he leans back in his chair. “you know, most people wouldn’t bring flowers to a prison.”

“clearly i’m not most people,” you tease, stepping closer.

“no,” he murmurs, watching you with that piercing gaze of his. “you’re not.”

you reach for him, fingers tracing the scar along his knuckles, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. even on today of all days, he won’t rest, won’t let himself have something as simple as an afternoon away.

but if he won’t leave work, then you’ll bring something sweeter to his prison of duty.

“you don’t know how to be taken care of, do you?” you whisper, tilting his chin up with your fingers.

his breath hitches, just barely, but you catch it. a flicker of something vulnerable, something unguarded, before he lets out a low, amused hum.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice dark with something heavier than amusement.

“am i?” your hands slide over his shoulders, pressing against the firm muscle beneath his coat. “you work too much. someone has to remind you that there are better ways to spend today.”

wriothesley exhales sharply, his hands finding your waist, grip firm and needy as he pulls you down onto his lap. the shift in position presses you close, his warmth seeping into you through the layers of your clothing.

“better ways, huh?” he smirks, though there’s heat simmering behind his eyes. he tilts his head, lips brushing just below your ear as he murmurs, “then why don’t you show me?”

the words send a shiver down your spine. “i plan to.”

his hands tighten around you as he captures your lips in a slow, consuming kiss, one that leaves no room for hesitation. it’s deep and unhurried, as if he’s finally allowing himself to indulge, to take instead of always giving.

the bouquet lies forgotten on the desk, petals trembling with each movement, the scent of roses mingling with the taste of him, heady and intoxicating.

and as his hands slide lower, gripping your hips with a quiet groan, you pull back slightly. your breath mingling with his, you whisper, “let me take care of you.”

his eyes darken, and he nods, a silent agreement that sends a thrill through you. you stand up, your hands never leaving his body, and begin to unbutton his shirt. each button reveals more of his taut, scarred skin, and you can’t help but trace the lines with your fingertips, feeling the history etched into his flesh.

wriothesley watches you, his breath growing heavier with each touch. when his shirt is fully open, you lean down and press a soft kiss to his chest, right above his heart. he shudders, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair.

“you’re driving me crazy,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

you smile against his skin, your hands moving to his belt. “that’s the point,” you tease, unbuckling it slowly. you can feel his heartbeat quicken under your lips, and it sends a rush through you, heat polling in your underwear.

as you unzip his pants, he lifts his hips to help you slide them down, along with his boxers. his erection springs free, hitting his stomach hard and ready, and you take a moment to admire him, your breath hitching at the sight.

“like what you see?” he asks, a hint of playfulness in his voice despite the tension in his body.

“very much,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. you wrap both your hand around him, feeling his heat and hardness, and he lets out a low groan, his head falling back against the chair.

you stroke him slowly, your thumb circling the sensitive tip, spreading the bead of precum that’s gathered there. wriothesley’s hips buck slightly, his breath coming in short gasps.

“feels so good,” he murmurs, his eyes closed, lost in the sensation.

you lean down, your breath hot against his ear. “just wait,” you whisper, before sinking to your knees in front of him.

his eyes fly open, and he looks down at you, his gaze intense and hungry. you hold his stare as you lean forward, your tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. he groans, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly.

finally, you take his cock into your mouth, inch by inch, your tongue swirling around him. he tastes salty and masculine, and you can’t get enough. you moan softly, the vibration making him jerk in your mouth.

“f-fuck,” he breathes out, his hips lifting slightly, seeking more.

you oblige, of course, taking him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs for support. you can feel the muscles trembling under your touch, and it spurs you on. you bob your head, your mouth and tongue working in tandem to drive him wild.

wriothesley’s hands find their way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, guiding you but not forcing. his grunts fill the room, sounds of pleasure that have you aching with need.

you pull back slightly to catch your breath, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock. you look up at him, your eyes watering slightly from the effort, but the sight of him—head thrown back, mouth open in ecstasy—makes it all worth it.

“don’t stop,” he pleads, his voice hoarse with desire. “p-please, don’t stop.”

you have no intention of stopping. you redouble your efforts, your head bobbing faster, your hand stroking harder. you can feel his cock swelling in your mouth, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“i’m close,” he warns, his voice strained. “so close.”

you moan in encouragement, your free hand cupping his balls, massaging them gently. it’s enough to send him over the edge. with a deep groan, he comes, his body shaking with the force of his release. you swallow every drop, your mouth and tongue gentle now, coaxing him down from his high.

when he finally stills, you pull back, your lips swollen. you look up at him, a soft smile on your face, and he looks back at you, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and wonder.

“come here,” he murmurs, pulling you up onto his lap. you go willingly, straddling him, your arms wrapping around his neck. he kisses you deeply, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, tasting himself on you.

“that was...” he trails off, shaking his head slightly. “incredible.”

you smile, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “i’m glad you think so.”

he chuckles, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. “i more than think so, sweetheart. i know so.”

you lean your forehead against his, your eyes closed, just enjoying the moment. the scent of roses still lingers in the air, mixing with the musk of sex and the warmth of his body. it’s a heady combination, one that makes you feel both relaxed and exhilarated.

“you know,” you say softly, “this is the first time i’ve seen you truly relax.”

he opens his eyes, looking into yours. “that’s because you make me feel safe,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “safe enough to let go.”

your heart swells at his words, and you kiss him softly, pouring all your feelings into it. he responds in kind, his arms tightening around you, holding you close.

when you pull back, you can see the desire sparking in his eyes again, and you grin, feeling a rush of anticipation.

“ready for round two?” you ask, your voice teasing.

he smirks, his hands sliding down to cup your ass. “with you? always.”

and with that, he stands up, lifting you with him, and sitting you down on his desk, sweeping the papers and the bouquet aside with one arm. he sets you down on the edge, his body pressing against yours, and you can feel his hardness growing again, pressing against your core.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he captures your mouth in another searing kiss. his hands roam over your body, touching, teasing, driving you wild with need.

you break away from his kiss, your breath coming in short gasps. “archons, wrio, i need you,” you plead, your voice desperate. “now.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice. he unbuttons your pants, sliding them down your legs along with your underwear. you kick them off, your heart pounding with anticipation. he steps back slightly, his eyes raking over your body, and you can see the hunger in his gaze.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

you smile, your cheeks flushing slightly at his words. “and you’re still wearing too many clothes,” you tease, reaching for his open shirt.

he chuckles, shrugging it off quickly, followed by fully stripping himself of his boxers. then he’s standing before you, gloriously naked, his body a map of scars and muscles that tell a story of their own.

you reach for him, your hands tracing the lines of his body, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingertips. he shudders at your touch, his eyes closing briefly, before opening again, filled with a fierce intensity.

he steps closer, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wider. you can feel his cock pressing against your entrance, hot and hard, and you let out a soft moan, your body aching with need.

“please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

he leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes locked on yours. “please what?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

you swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “please fuck me,” you beg, your voice desperate.

a slow, wicked smile spreads across his face, and he captures your mouth in another deep kiss. at the same time, he thrusts into you, filling you completely. you gasp into his mouth, your body arching against his, your nails digging into his shoulders.

he starts to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm. each stroke hits deep, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. you moan, your head falling back, your eyes closed, lost in the sensation.

“look at me,” he commands, his voice rough with desire.

you force your eyes open, meeting his gaze. the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away, and you can’t look away, even as his thrusts grow harder, faster, driving you higher and higher.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “so tight, so wet.”

you can only moan in response, your body trembling with each thrust. you can feel your orgasm building, a coil of pleasure tightening in your core.

“come for me,” he urges, his voice a low growl. “let me feel you come around my cock.”

his words send you over the edge. with a cry, you come, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his skin. he groans, his hips jerking as he finds his own release, his cock pulsing inside you.

you collapse against each other, your breaths coming in short gasps, your bodies slick with sweat. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, his face buried in your neck.

“that was...” you trail off, shaking your head slightly. “incredible.”

he chuckles, his breath hot against your skin. “i could say the same thing,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

you smile, your eyes closed, just enjoying the moment. the scent of roses still lingers in the air, mixing with the musk of sex and the warmth of his body. the conbination makes your head feel dizzy.

after a few moments, he pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “thank you,” he says softly. “for reminding me that there’s more to life than just work.”

you cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently against his skin. “anytime,” you reply, your voice just as soft. “that’s what i’m here for.”

he smiles, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. “i’m glad you are,” he says, before capturing your mouth in another soft, lingering kiss.

as you pull away, you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. this is what you wanted—to remind him that he deserves to be taken care of, to show him that there’s more to life than just duty and responsibility. and as you look into his eyes, you know that you’ve succeeded.

♡ KAZUHA

the evening air is cool, tinged with the scent of cherry blossoms and the distant salt of the sea. lanterns glow softly along the park’s winding path, casting pools of golden light where couples linger—whispers of laughter, the quiet rustle of silk sleeves brushing together.

but kazuha’s attention is solely on you.

he leans in, voice no louder than a breath, “you’re trembling.”

you swallow, heat pooling in your stomach at the realization—it’s not from the cold.

kazuha sits behind you on the secluded bench, his arms loose but firm around your waist, fingers tracing the edge of your sleeve with a slowness that makes your breath hitch. his lips hover near your ear, warm and teasing, sending shivers down your spine with each whispered word.

“you’re always so bold,” he muses, fingers slipping just beneath the hem of your coat, just enough for his knuckles to graze the bare skin of your thigh. “and yet now, you’re shaking.”

you shift in his lap, an attempt at feigning control, but it only makes things worse—the solid press of his body against yours, the way his grip tightens, the quiet sigh he exhales, hot against your neck.

“people could see,” you whisper, barely audible.

kazuha chuckles, low and utterly sinful. “then you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you?”

a gasp catches in your throat as his lips brush the shell of your ear, soft and fleeting, before trailing lower, ghosting along the curve of your neck. his hands trace along your hips, fingers pressing, teasing, before pulling you just a little closer, just enough to make your pulse stutter.

your fingers dig into his thighs, a silent plea, a warning—one he pointedly ignores.

“kazuha—”

“shh,” he soothes, lips barely touching your skin as he whispers, “wouldn’t want to alert the others now, would we?”

the distant murmur of another couple drifts through the night, oblivious, and the thought sends a thrill through you—this dangerous, delicate game of restraint, the need threatening to spill over.

kazuha hums, pleased by the way your breath hitches, by the way your body responds to his touch even as you try to stay composed. his voice is soft and teasing as he nips lightly at your pulse.

“such a shame,” he muses, fingers curling just beneath your chin, tilting your face towards him. “if only we were somewhere more private… i wouldn’t have to hold back.”

his lips press against yours, slow and deep, stealing the breath right from your lungs. and as his hands tighten, as heat coils and tension hums between you, you realize one thing:

you’re losing this game.

and you don’t mind one bit.

kazuha’s fingers trace a path up your thigh, his touch light but deliberate, sending waves of anticipation through you. you can feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath against your neck, and you squeeze your eyes tightly as you try and keep yourself from moaning out loud.

“k-kazu,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, “we shouldn’t—”

“shouldn’t what?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “shouldn’t enjoy this moment? shouldn’t let ourselves get carried away?”

his hand moves higher, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. you bite your lip, trying to suppress a gasp, but it escapes anyway, a soft, desperate sound that makes kazuha smile against your skin.

“you’re so responsive,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “it’s intoxicating.”

you shift in his lap, trying to ease the ache building between your legs, but the movement only presses you closer to him, making the situation worse. kazuha’s grip on your waist tightens, holding you still as his other hand continues its torturous exploration.

“p-please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for. more? less? something to ease the tension coiling inside you?

kazuha’s fingers finally reach their destination, brushing lightly over the fabric of your lacy underwear. you let out a shaky breath, your body tensing in anticipation. he teases you, his touch feather-light, barely there, before finally pressing more firmly, eliciting a moan from you.

“shh,” he reminds you, his voice a soft whisper. “remember, we have to be quiet.”

you nod, biting your lip to keep from making any more noise. kazuha’s fingers move in slow, deliberate circles over your clit, the pressure building with each touch. you can feel the heat pooling in your lower abdomen, squeezing your thighs aroud his hand.

“you’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “so ready for me.”

you whimper, unable to form words, as his fingers slip beneath the fabric, finally touching you skin to skin. the sensation is electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you. you grip his legs tightly, your nails digging into the fabric of his pants.

kazuha’s fingers move expertly, knowing exactly how to touch you, how to build the pleasure in your cunt higher and higher. you can feel your body tensing, the pressure building to an almost unbearable level.

“ahh, kazu,” you gasp, his name a plea on your lips. “i’m close—”

“i know,” he says, his voice a soft rumble. “i know, just let go. i’ve got you.”

and with those words, you do. the tension snaps, pleasure washing over you in waves. you bite down on your lip, trying to keep the sounds of your release quiet, but a soft moan escapes nonetheless. kazuha’s grip on you tightens, holding you close as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

as you come down from the high, kazuha’s touch softens, his fingers gently stroking you, bringing you back to earth. you lean back against him, your body limp and sated. he presses a soft kiss to your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“you’re so beautiful when you let go,” he murmurs, his voice a soft whisper.

you turn your head, capturing his lips in a slow, languid kiss. you can taste the cherry blossoms on his lips, the sweetness of the night air. as you pull away, you smile, a soft, contented smile.

“your turn,” you say, your voice a soft purr.

kazuha raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “oh, really?”

you nod, a glint in your eyes. “really.”

you shift in his lap, turning to face him. your hands slide up his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. kazuha watches you, his eyes dark with desire, as you begin to unbutton his shirt, revealing more of his smooth, tanned skin.

“you’re playing with fire,” he warns, his voice a low growl.

you smile, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs. “i think i like the heat.”

kazuha’s breath hitches as your fingers dip lower, tracing the waistband of his pants. you can feel the hard length of him pressing against the fabric, and you smile, knowing you’re affecting him just as much as he affected you.

you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as your hand slips beneath the waistband, finally wrapping around him. kazuha groans, the sound low and deep, sending a thrill through you. you stroke him slowly, your grip firm but gentle, drawing out another groan from him.

“you’re driving me crazy,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble.

you smile against his lips, your hand moving faster, your grip tightening. kazuha’s breath comes in short, sharp gasps, his body tensing beneath your touch. you can feel the pleasure building in him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

“let go,” you whisper, your voice a soft command. “let go for me, kazu.”

and with those words, he does. his body tenses, a low moan escaping his lips as he finds his release. you stroke him through it, your touch gentle but firm, drawing out every last wave of pleasure.

as he comes down from the high, you slow your movements, your touch softening. kazuha leans his forehead against yours, his breath coming in slow, steady gasps. you smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“you’re incredible,” he murmurs in a soft whisper.

you smile, your fingers tracing the lines of his face. “so are you.”

and as you sit there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you know that this night is far from over.

♡ ALBEDO

the candlelight flickers, casting golden hues across the atelier. the scent of oil paints lingers in the air, mingling with something sweeter—the quiet intimacy of being seen.

albedo’s brush glides over the canvas, deliberate, precise, but his gaze… his gaze lingers elsewhere. on you.

you shift beneath his stare, warmth blooming under your skin despite the cool air brushing over your bare body. the silk draped beneath you does little to preserve modesty, pooling around your waist in a way that only enhances the vulnerability of the moment.

his voice is soft, thoughtful. “you’re tense.”

your fingers clutch the fabric at your side. “maybe because you’re staring.”

he chuckles, quiet but indulgent, setting the brush aside. “you wanted me to paint you, love,” he murmurs, standing. the soft creak of the stool, the quiet shuffle of movement and it all feels too slow, too deliberate. “should i not admire my muse?”

you exhale, intending to form some retort, but the words never come—not when he moves closer, not when his gloved fingers trace the edge of your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his eyes.

not when his other hand ghosts over your collarbone, barely there, yet setting every nerve on fire.

the touch is light at first, a study in patience, in restraint. his fingers trail lower, over your arm, down your ribs, mapping the curves he had so carefully sketched onto the canvas.

then lower.

your breath stutters. “albedo-”

he hums in acknowledgment, but his hand doesn’t stop. it glides, slow and knowing, pressing into the softness of your thigh. “fascinating,” he muses, thumb sweeping along your skin in a way that makes your pulse quicken. “i wonder… how much of this warmth is due to embarrassment, and how much is something else?”

you shiver, heat pooling low in your stomach. “you’re awfully talkative.”

his smirk is barely there, but the shift in his demeanor is undeniable—this is no longer about art.

“am i?” he leans in, lips brushing over your shoulder in the lightest of touches before trailing up, up, until his breath fans against the shell of your ear. “then perhaps i should put my mouth to better use.”

a challenge. a promise.

his lips capture yours before you can answer, the warmth of him a stark contrast to the cool air of the room. his hands find your waist, pulling you close, letting you feel the way tension coils beneath his calm exterior, the way his self-control wavers when it comes to his lover.

the painting lies forgotten on the easel, the brushes untouched.

because tonight, he’ll be studying you.

his kiss deepens, tongue sweeping against yours in a dance that leaves you breathless. you can feel the heat of his body, the way his muscles tense under your touch as you reach up, fingers tangling in his hair. he groans softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, and you can't help but smile, knowing the effect you have on him.

"you're enjoying this," he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. his are dark with desire, pupils blown wide.

"maybe," you mumrur, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "or maybe i just like seeing you lose control."

he raises an eyebrow, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "is that so?" his hands slide down to your hips, gripping tightly before lifting you effortlessly onto the chaise lounge tucked in the corner of the studio. you let out a surprised gasp, but he just smiles, kneeling before you.

"then let's see how much control i can make you lose," he says, voice low and husky. his hands push your thighs apart, exposing you to the cool air and his heated gaze. you shiver, but not from the cold.

he leans in, breath hot against your most intimate place. you squirm, anticipation building, but he takes his time, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, making you wait. making you want.

"a-albedo," you moan in a plea. he looks up at you, eyes locked onto yours as he finally, finally, puts his mouth to better use.

the first touch of his tongue is electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. he starts slow, exploring and tasting your cunt, each flick and swirl sending waves of sensation crashing over you. your hands find his hair again, gripping tightly as you try to steady yourself.

he hums against your hole, the vibration adding to the sensations overwhelming you. your breath comes in short gasps, punctuated by moans that fill the quiet of the studio. there's nothing but this—his mouth on you, your body responding to his every touch.

"you taste incredible," he murmurs, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in like a starving man. his hands grip your thighs tighter, holding you open for him as he devours you. it's too much, not enough, all at once.

"b-bedo," you gasp, tension coiling tight in your belly. "i'm close."

he growls, the sound vibrating against you, pushing you even closer to the edge. his tongue flicks faster, zeroing in on the spot that makes your body sing. one hand leaves your thigh, two fingers sliding into you easily, filling you, stretching you.

it's too much. it's perfect. it's everything.

you come undone with a cry, body arching off the chaise as pleasure crashes over you. he stays with you, tongue gentling but not stopping, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you collapse back onto the chaise, boneless and sated.

he presses one last soft kiss to your thigh before standing, looming over you with a satisfied smirk. "well," he says, voice gentle, "that was quite the study in desire."

you laugh, breathless and content. "come here," you say, reaching for him. he comes willingly, stretching out beside you on the chaise, pulling you into his arms. you can feel the hard length of him pressed against your hip, but he makes no move to rush, content to hold you, to kiss you softly, to let you set the pace.

"thank you," you murmur, tracing patterns on his chest with your fingertips. "for the painting. for... this."

♡ ALHAITHAM

“you’re aware this holiday is nothing more than a commercial ploy, aren’t you?”

alhaitham barely glances up from his book, his voice calm and utterly uninterested. you’re curled up beside him on the couch, yet there’s a noticeable distance—one you fully intend to close.

you sigh dramatically, stretching just enough to press against his side. “so cynical,” you murmur, dragging a slow finger down his arm, tracing the muscle beneath his loose sleeve. “you say that, but you still agreed to spend the evening with me.”

“i spend most of my evenings with you.” he doesn’t react, but you catch the way his fingers twitch slightly against the page. “i fail to see how today is any different.”

you hum, shifting to straddle his lap, effectively cutting off any further argument. his breath hitches. not enough for most to notice, but you do.

“let me show you, then.”

his book is forgotten the moment your lips brush against his neck.

there’s the briefest pause, a moment where you think he might scoff, might dismiss you entirely. but then his hands find your waist, his grip firm and grounding.

“is this your attempt at persuasion?” his voice is quieter now, edged with something deeper, something intrigued.

you press a kiss just beneath his jaw, savoring the way his pulse jumps. “is it working?”

a sharp exhale. his grip tightens.

“you’re insufferable,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite to it. if anything, the way his fingers slide down your spine tells you he’s enjoying this.

good.

you smile, tilting his chin up until he’s looking at you, emerald eyes dark with something unreadable. “then stop thinking so much and enjoy the moment.”

there’s a beat of silence. then he pulls you down into a kiss, slow and consuming, one that makes heat pool low in your abdomen.

it’s rare for him to be this receptive, to let go of logic and indulge in something as fleeting as romance. but tonight, his lips are insistent, his hands impatient as they slide beneath the fabric of your shirt, fingers pressing and grasping.

he breaks the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips, “you’re ridiculous.”

you grin. “and yet, you’re still holding me like you don’t want me to leave.”

a quiet chuckle, a rare thing, before he flips you beneath him, caging you between warmth and muscle, the weight of his body pressing you into the couch.

“fine,” he concedes, voice lower now, rougher. “convince me.”

and judging by the way he kisses you again—hungry, unrestrained—you think you already have.

his hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and line as if he’s memorizing you. you arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. he swallows the sound with another deep kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you.

“haitham,” you whisper, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. his name on your lips seems to ignite something within him, and he trails kisses down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“you taste so good,” he murmurs, his lips moving lower, tracing the collarbone. his hands slip under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. you shiver as the cool air hits your skin, but his warmth quickly envelops you again.

he takes a moment to admire you, his eyes dark with desire. “beautiful,” he says softly, before dipping his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. you gasp, your back arching off the couch as he sucks and nips, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

your hands find his shoulders, gripping tightly as he lavishes attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp bites. you can feel his hardness pressing against you, and you moan softly, your hips grinding against him. he breaks the kiss, his breath coming in short gasps.

“you’re insatiable,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. you tilt your head back, giving him better access.

“only for you,” you reply, your voice breathy and desperate. he chuckles, his hands sliding down your body, exploring every curve and line.

you push him back against the couch, straddling his lap. he looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. you lean down to nip at his neck.

“i want to taste you,” you murmur against the shell of his ear. he groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

“you don’t have to,” he says, his voice strained. you smile, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“i want to,” you insist, your voice soft but firm. he nods, his breath hitching as you begin to trail kisses down his chest.

you take your time, exploring every inch of him with your lips and tongue. he moans softly, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you lower.

you reach the waistband of his boxers, and you look up at him, a wicked smile on your lips. he watches you, his eyes dark with anticipation. you hook your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down slowly, revealing his hard length.

you wrap your hand around him, and he hisses in pleasure. you stroke him slowly, your eyes locked on his, watching every reaction, every twitch of his muscles.

“you’re teasing me,” he accuses, his voice rough with desire. you smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock.

“maybe a little,” you admit, your tongue flicking out to taste him. he groans, his hips bucking slightly.

you take him into your mouth, inch by inch, your tongue swirling around him. he moans loudly, his hands gripping your hair tightly. you begin to move, your head bobbing up and down, taking him deeper with each pass.

“archons, you feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice strained. you hum in agreement, the vibration sending a shiver through him.

you pick up the pace, your hand working in time with your mouth. he’s moaning loudly now, his hips moving in time with you, his breath coming in short gasps.

“i’m close,” he warns, his voice strained. you don’t stop, your movements becoming more urgent, more desperate.

he comes with a loud groan, his body tensing as he finds his release. you swallow every drop, your mouth continuing to move on him until he’s spent.

you pull away slowly, a satisfied smile on your lips. he looks down at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

“come here,” he murmurs and reaches for you, pulling you up to kiss you sloppily again, tasting himself on your lips.

“i want you inside me,” you whisper against his mouth. he groans, his body pressing against yours, his hardness evident through his pants.

“are you sure?” he asks, his voice strained. you nod, your hands moving to his pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down. he kicks them off, his boxers following quickly.

you take a moment to admire him, his body lean and muscular, his cock hard and ready. you reach out, wrapping your hand around him once more, and he hisses in pleasure.

“condom,” he manages to say, reaching for his pants and pulling one out of his wallet. you take it from him, tearing it open and rolling it onto him, your hands lingering on his length.

he settles between your legs, his cock poised at your entrance. he looks into your eyes, a silent question. you nod, your hands gripping his hips, pulling him closer.

he slides into you slowly, inch by inch, filling you completely. you both moan, the sensation overwhelming. he stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to him, before beginning to move.

his thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure through you. you wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper, urging him faster. he complies, his hips moving quicker, his breath coming in short gasps.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. you moan into his mouth, your nails digging into his back as the pleasure builds again.

he breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he continues to thrust into you. “i want you to come with me,” he says, his voice strained. you nod, your body already on the edge.

he reaches between you, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. the dual sensation is too much, and you cry out, your body convulsing around him as you come.

he follows quickly, his body tensing as he finds his own release. he collapses on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body slick with sweat.

you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both come down from the high. he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“you’re right,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy. “this is different.”

you smile, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. “told you so.”

as you both lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, alhaitham can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, there’s something to this romance thing after all. and maybe, just maybe, valentine’s day isn’t so bad.

© heavngumi 2025⋆ ꒰ all rights reserved! ꒱ do not copy, modify or translate any of my work.

[rewind-redux]

New Experiments - Harley Sawyer/Reader

The halls were dark and reeked of coppery blood, the scents of metal, toys, and blood blending into a suffocating fog. What few papers explaining what had happened in this hell were crumpled in your bag, along with the occasional VHS tape that you managed to find. You were on your way to confront The Doctor, the monster you've read about behind the experiments, now an experiment himself. His voice rang in your head, that rough metallic tone echoing the last words he'd said to you before you’d continued on.

"An intriguing specimen, with no obvious reason to come down into the pits of playtime co." You glanced at the TVs lining the walls, the box frames enclosing the already small hallway, making you feel much more... fragile. God knows what you'll find when you get to the man behind the torture. If he's even a man anymore.

"Even the ground beneath your feet..." The Doctor's voice sang out from behind you, roughly pushing you to the trapdoor. You grabbed his hand at the last second, taking him down with you. Or.. what sounded like him.

Your eyes adjust to the dim room, being met with a robotic body covered in a torn shawl, and a TV for a head that flickered with different images and videos. You pushed yourself back against a fence, the metal rattling loudly in the silence.

"...Harley Sawyer?" Your voice was a bit shakier than you would have liked, but at least the words came out.

The machine's head tilted slightly, as if examining you. "How... interesting. I've seen how you understand that the price of progress is insignificant. I watched you snuff out that little life for the sake of reaching me. You dragged me down into my own trap. And yet, now that you've reached your goal... you don’t seize it. Are the lies finally wearing off? Have you come to your senses about that doll?" He stayed where he was, not moving towards you like one would wait for a puppy to come to them so as to not scare them off.

You inhaled deeply, trying to regain your senses, the stress of being in Playtime Co exhausting you now that you were no longer under immediate threat. ...You didn't even feel like this in safe haven.

"It's a mystery how Playtime managed to ignore such an intriguing mind, such a.. promising one. You understand how things work. How to succeed. You would have made for a stimulating experiment." You looked up at him, the remorseless, ruthless doctor. The doctor that.. could actually do something, keep the burden off your shoulders, unlike the toys you've been carrying through this hell.

You sighed, leaning against the fence. "Why... why should I trust you?" You could feel your body trusting him, relaxing under his analytical gaze.

"If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have even made it this far into Playtime. 1170 would have made quick work of you."

‘Huggy Wuggy’. You thought to yourself. You've had so many close calls, almost dying every room you stepped in, and yet-

"And what an exceptional case you are, making it all the way to me. Even the most promising toys never made it very far, but you. You would have been the most successful, if only Playtime had recognized it." Your eyes trailed up his metallic body, his eye trained on you, filled with anger and... grief.

"But now it can't." You looked back up at his body as you said it, taking in what he'd become.

"Not anymore. Those.. fools decided to take away my achievements, my abilities. They gave up a vital asset because of their own ego, took over my experiments as if they were their own. They stole my experiments, my ideas, and confined me into this body." You could picture the scowl he would have if he had a face, the anger that would've been so easily seen.

You didn't really know what to say. What was there to say? This man, this... genius, broken down into an amalgamation of metal and dismembered flesh suspended indefinitely. You can't help but feel sympathy for him.

"But you," You glance up at him, his eye still locked onto your body. "You could've been my success. My magnum opus. You could have shown everyone that I was right." His metallic body stepped closer, the whirring of his mechanisms quiet. Soothing, even.

"You didn't deserve this." The words came out before you could process them, the tone… soft.

Sawyer paused, the TV screen flickering as if in thought. No one talked to him like that. He's never been spoken to as if he was a child. But.. you weren't wrong. He didn't deserve it, he knew that more than anyone. His voice became less rough. "No, but they were too scared of my creations, of what I could do. They were fools for thinking doing this would stop me. And now they're gone." The bitterness came back at the last sentence, his eye narrowing.

You stood, pulling yourself up using the chain link fence you had leaned against. He wasn't that tall anymore, and looked... human. Wires and metal and TV static, yet he was still the man you read about. He was still a man.

The silence dragged out, neither of you daring to speak and break it, seeming so fragile yet so needed. A break. That's what you both needed. 

Eventually, Sawyer spoke up, shaking off his feelings, his tone returning to the clinical one you knew. “What do you gain from coming back? Why come back at all?” 

You… couldn’t really answer that. Why did you come back? It’s not like you knew any of these toys personally. It’s not like you knew the directors at all. “...I’m not entirely sure, myself.”

He hummed, a bit disappointed. “And here I thought you came back with a reason I could dissect. No matter. What matters is you’re here now. And I get to have my stimulation, instead of waiting for those inadequate toys to wander where they’re not supposed to.” He stepped closer, examining you. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen a body, much less done a vivisection.” 

You held your ground, not wanting to show that his words made you feel a bit queasy. His hand reached out, feeling your neck and pulse.

“110 beats per minute. You’re scared of this, aren’t you? Your blood pressure feels higher as well.” His hand clamped around your neck, tilting your head up so he could take a closer look at your face. “Your pupils are dilated, most likely from adrenaline and how dark it is. Your respiration rate is higher than average, but not that high. You’re trying to keep yourself calm. Box breathing, yes?” 

You swallowed, feeling vulnerable. He was pointing out everything about your emotional state and your body, nevermind the fact his hand could easily snap your neck in a flash. 

His hand was cold, the contrast ever so noticeable on your warm neck. “You would have made for a successful bigger body. Perhaps a Huggy Wuggy, or a CatNap. Perhaps a completely new toy. Your body would have been easy to change into it.” His hand glided down to your chest, pressing into it. “Strong bones. Maybe it would have been a pain for you to start the process, not that it matters.” 

Your breath hitched, blood rushing to your face as Sawyer pressed into your chest. Thank God it was dark.

“Ah. A reaction. Fear? Anger?” He pressed harder, your back now up against the chain link fence. You could feel the heat on your face, your ears burning as you took a breath. “You’re not going to answer? Do I have to pull the words out of you?” His fingertips dug into your skin, leaving red marks behind. 

A small noise slipped out of your throat, barely getting out before you took another shaky breath to calm yourself. 

“Maybe you won’t be immediately discarded after all. You have such stimulating reactions.” His hand dug in again, and this time you grabbed his wrist to stop his fingers from breaking your skin. 

“Stop-...” He surprisingly pulled away, giving you a moment to compose yourself. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

“It’s easy to get under your skin isn’t it? Just as easily as you slipped under mine?” The thought made you flush red, visible in the dim light. He pulled you closer again, examining your face. “Extremely easy. In more ways than one, I see.” His hand tightened on your throat, enough to feel it, but not enough to be painful. 

“Sawyer…” You couldn’t tell if what came out of your mouth was a groan of pain or pleasure, or maybe a mix of both. Your hands grasped at his shawl, weakly pulling at it. Gods, you felt so pathetic, but so… needy. It’d been so long since you’ve felt any positive emotions, so long since you’ve felt even remotely relaxed. Maybe Sawyer felt the same way, being trapped in that form, stressed about no direction to go, no purpose in existing other than to spite those who made him what he is now.

He gave a short chuckle, finding your position amusing. This was a game to him, a chance to find and create reactions to stimulate his clinical mind. His hand dropped to your waist, feeling around your skin in a detached, almost professional way, if you hadn’t known he was a sociopathic doctor. 

“Your body is much warmer than everything else down here. No wonder the toys find you so easily.” He pressed his hand into your stomach, eliciting a grunt from you. “Sensitive here? Not at all surprising, the human body is typically more sensitive around vulnerable places, such as your stomach or neck.” You could feel your body heating up, even warmer than before. You cursed softly under your breath, shifting a bit to get more comfortable.

“Where else?” He glanced up at your words, humming in thought. 

“Where else is the human body sensitive, or where else are you sensitive?” You closed your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts to answer him. Your mind felt clouded in a haze of fear and need, thoughts coming by sluggishly.

“Where else am I?” You almost panted out the words, the air you were breathing in not feeling like it was enough.

“For that, I would have to test it. Feel every part of you, what makes you tick, what makes you grimace, and what makes you squirm.” You could hear the anticipation in his voice, the way he viewed you as a new toy to pick apart and analyze what was left behind afterwards. You glanced down at his metallic hand hovering over your neck, the joints almost shaking as he waited for your acceptance. It surprised you that he would even consider thinking about whether or not you accepted.

“I don’t think it’d be very comfortable to do that against a chain link fence.” He looked over your shoulder at the fence, tilting his head.

“I don’t need comfort in this body, the surroundings are trivial.” You sighed. Right, self absorbed mad scientist. 

“I do. I’m still a human, remember? My body isn’t as forgiving with rough surfaces as yours is.” He thought about it for a second, watching you.

“You won’t find a… comfortable place in Playtime. It wasn’t built for your comfort.” You huffed, but shook the annoyance off. He was right in a way, it wasn’t exactly the most inviting place to be at. 

’Ironic.’ Before your thought could continue, his hand pulled you out to a better lit place. You couldn’t control the way your hand immediately grasped onto his, the urge to intertwine your fingers with his coming to the forefront of your mind. He let go as you reached the room where his brain was contained, looming over you like an omniscient being. Well, not that he wasn’t, in his own way.

“Now, get on the table and I’ll start.” You climbed up, laying on your back, the metal cool and hard beneath you.

“Why’d you choose here?” He stood over you, hands poised. He paused when you asked that, humming to himself in thought.

“It works the same as any other nervous system. The closer you are to the brain, the more sensations are felt. The more they can be analyzed and dissected.” You inhaled, relaxing on the table as the soft red glow of the machine reflected off Sawyer’s mechanical body.

His hand started by moving across your face, examining the way it looked and twitched. It went to your hair, feeling the strands. 

“A lot different than the toys you’re used to, huh?” He looked down at your eyes as you whispered that, as if part of you didn't want him to hear your words.

“Yes, the toys… their fur is more like plastic, some have a combination. But they're all more… animal like than human. The same can be said for their… cognitive functions.” His hand went to your ear, tracing around the outside with a surprisingly delicate touch.

“You’ve got a… delicate hand for a…” You faltered. For a machine? For a sociopathic insane mad doctor? 

“I wasn’t a surgeon for no reason. How do you think my experiments always came out so well? How they were perfect? The… cognitive side of those experiments is on the other doctors. They let their pathetic emotions get in the way of progress. See how my creations turned out? 1170, 1222, 1188, 1166? Loyal to only me, how they were supposed to be. I did what the others couldn't stomach. Emotions meant more to them than progress.” His hand gripped your throat, his anger being taken out on you.

“Saw-” You could barely choke out his name, his hand tight. He glanced down and eased his grip.

“Apologies. Wouldn't want my new… test to fall short, now would we?” His thumb rubbed your neck, the cold metal warming up from the contact with your skin. A groan escaped from your lips, Sawyer pressing gently on your throat to feel the vibrations. 

His hand slowly made its way to your collarbone, where he flicked the collar of your shirt. “Clothes… always in the way.” He briskly unbuttoned your shirt and pulled you to a sitting position. “If you could not be a limp body that would be useful.” He pulled the shirt off, and you moved your arms to help this time. The air was slightly cold against your skin, goosebumps raising on your arms. “How… fragile. You can't even weather the air of a factory. That needs to be fixed.” He traced your chest and arms, rubbing a circle around your nipple. “No evolutionary purpose for men to keep these… you'd think for how complex biology is, it would try to be better.” The cool metal of his thumb circled around your nipple, sending heat straight to your face.

His hand moved again, tracing your stomach where your organs sat. “I keep the digestive system in the toys, it makes for a more… challenging procedure. And it makes them hungry, which in turn keeps them loyal to their feeder. The rest of the systems have no use in the toys, other than the nervous system.”

“And you don't have any systems.” He glanced up, slightly surprised at your comment.

“...No. I have lungs, a heart, and a brain. I do commend the efficiency of it, since there's no need for food or air. It makes me practically immortal, almost perfect. The way it was done though…” He trailed off, his hand twitching. 

“...I'm sorry for what happened. It.. sounds terrible to go through.” You didn't really know what else to say, this wasn't exactly a common occurrence. 

“I don't need nor want your pity,” His hand gripped your waist, pulling you forward to him. “You shouldn't be saying anything about what happened to me, unless you caused it. And if you’d caused it, you would be in a much worse state than what any of Playtime Co is in.” His eye stared into yours, seething with rage and grief of what had been taken from him.

He quickly collected himself, going back to the analytical side you'd known him to be. His hand stopped at your pant line with a scoff. A chuckle came out of your mouth as you reached down to help. 

“Never taken someone's pants off before?” You watched his screen as it flickered static for a moment. 

“Yes, I have. All bodies need to be completely naked when it comes to vivisections and turning them into toys.” He helped roughly, clearly not used to his patients being awake when it came to undressing them.

“Didn't mean it like that, Doctor.” He glanced up at you.

“Be clear about what you mean. None of this guessing nonsense, you're wasting my time.” He tossed your pants to the side, then pulled down your underwear in a clinical, detached manner.

“Fine. I'm assuming you've never taken someone's pants off for sex before.” He paused at that, placing the underwear with your pile of discarded clothes.

“No, I have not. I have much better things to do than get in relationships and mess around like a high school boy.” You chuckled, the statement sounding odd coming from Sawyer. He glared at you, then dipped his hand lower, tracing your thighs. His thumb gently brushed against your inner thigh, where your artery lay. 

The realization that Sawyer could kill you within seconds resurfaced from the haze of your mind. You were sitting naked on a table, with a mechanical body of an insane doctor looming above you. His hand poised over your artery, able to strike in moments if he wanted.

As he continued his exam, you realized he was too engrossed in the “test” as he'd called it, to even think of killing you. You could see the concentration in his eye, it flicking up and down, taking in every part of you. His hands moved to your calves, then back up as he mapped out your blood vessels in his head. 

Your breathing was heavier, your heart rate fast. As his hand reached between your legs, your leg jerked, trying to close them. Sawyer said nothing, but used his other hand to push your legs apart and keep them that way. He slowly, agonizingly traced around your privates, his fingertips freezing against it. You couldn't help the twitch of your hips as he almost reached it, the flush in your face darkening. The hand holding your legs moved to hold down your hips, his screen flickering as he watched your reactions.

“I can see you're getting impatient, with your… uncontrolled movements. Perhaps we should control them, no?” Both of his hands pinned down your hips before you could respond, the metal digging into your skin. Your hips reacted, instinctively bucking against his hold. He watched and pressed down harder, drawing another reaction and a small noise from you.

You could see in his eye as something clicked. Humanity was so close for him, however disgusting it was. The feeling that he could be human again, if only in his head. This… emotion he was pulling out of you, this pleasure... this was the first time in years that he felt even remotely close to his old self. To being human. And he craved it, the ability to move around, experiment, to be his old self. He needed it.

He clamped a hand over your mouth as he pushed a finger in, not giving you any time to adjust to the new sensations before he started stretching you. He clearly knew what he was doing, but in a studied clinical manner, as if following instructions from a book. His eye was trained on where you two met, watching your body's reactions to the intrusion. He hated it. But it was all he had left to feel human, this disgusting pointless act. He slowly added another finger, the metal cold and desperate as it thrusted in and out. A low groan escaped your lips, sawyers eye quickly looking up to see your face, your expressions. 

His hand clamped harder on your mouth, muffling the noises you made. He added a third, the stretch painful due to the lack of preparation he’d given you.

“Harley- ngh.. fuck.. slow down..” He glanced back up at your face, his emotions unreadable. It was unsettling, how silent he was, but you supposed it was his clinical side taking over, logging each and every reaction you made. He barely slowed down, just enough for you to stop complaining. His metal fingers curled in different ways, prodding and testing to see if you’d react to it. He was rewarded with grunts and groans that slipped from your mouth, muffled from the hand pressing into it.

He spoke up, his tone back to normal, talking more to himself than to you. “How submissive you’ve become… expected, really. All you need is the right treatment, which would be more successful with locking you up in those padded rooms. How do you think I was able to create and control all of those toys so easily? Though I do prefer a… faster approach, such as isolation and torture. Something like this… It would take quite a long time for the patient to become fully submissive, and for all of the wrong reasons too. The patient would become a pet, not an asset. Completely worthless.” He continued with the movements as he talked, not making any move to slow down or pull away. 

You could feel yourself getting closer to release, your mind in a pleasurable haze as you closed your eyes. He noticed and slowed down, dragging the pleasure out more. A low whine escaped your mouth, almost turning into a moan. Your hips bucked forward, searching for more friction, to finally climax. He moved his hand from your mouth and pushed your hips down, thrusting his fingers hard into you, curling them inside. You could barely even choke out a noise, the abruptness too intense to react to. He continued at a rough and fast pace, eventually adding a fourth finger, stretching your already sore hole even further. You couldn’t help but grind into it, the feeling desperately needed after such a long time of pent up stress. 

He watched your reaction as you climaxed, the flush that enveloped your face, the sweat that glistened on your forehead, the shakiness in your legs and arms, the rapid rise and fall of your chest from your panting breaths. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out, making you ride it out, adding to the sensations he was causing you. He logged every reaction and every simple movement as you laid back limply on the table. 

“It seems I was right. Yet again. What an interesting specimen you are. But.. don’t think I’m done with you yet. There’s still plenty more to test. After all, I haven’t seen anything like you in years. It’s only fitting I keep you for my own… enjoyment, if you will.” He pulled his hands away, wiping them off on his shawl. “Now get dressed. I’m getting awfully tired of looking at you being so… pathetic. It’s disgusting.” He didn’t even bother to toss you your clothes, instead just standing there watching you as you struggled on shaky legs to stand on your own two feet. You eventually managed to pull on your clothes, your shaky hands barely able to button your shirt. You were still breathing heavily, taking large breaths to calm your racing heart. 

He started walking away, expecting you to follow, and follow you did. “Now… what to make of you…? I’m sure the Prototype would… love to get his filthy hands on you, but… let’s keep my secret for now, yes? He may control the board, but that doesn’t mean he controls the pieces, only the rules. And there’s nothing against… holding out on a potential subject for him. As long as you eventually end up in his grasp, I’m keeping you for my own scientific purposes for now. He never gave a time limit either, so that means you’ll be mine indefinitely, until I tire of your presence.” He paused in thought, stopping in his tracks.

“Unless…” You felt goosebumps raise on your arms. You didn’t like the tone of his voice, the way he stopped as if realizing something exceedingly substantial. “I could do what no one else could, with you. I could finally make a scientific breakthrough that no one could ignore. The other heads would be shamed and put in their place, after stealing my work and humiliating me like that.” He turned around, facing you. “...And all I’d need is you.”

[ineedpaigebuckets]

ONE SHOT AZZI TOP I BEG

PTPOM 2.0

an: i don't know who the fuck allowed me to write this

disregard this thanks

warnings: filth 🥲🤞

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

azzi pov

the sound of sza seeping in through my ears, my headphones blocking out the sound of the music blasting through the bus. i can hear a little bit not enough to disturb my peace of just looking out the window. the light fall of the snow and the silence of the trees outside.

my peace is very quickly disturbed when i hear PTPOM 2.0 being blasted through the speaker and big fucking surprise my girlfriends screaming at the top of her lungs. she's one seat diagonal of me since i insisted on having my own seat, she can be a bit much at night.

"put that pussy on me." i hear her scream and my eyes whip to her before they're caught on amaris live, she tilted the camera towards me and i give her a guilty expression. paige sings a few more lyrics before she gives me a wicked smile and i groan looking back out the window.

i hear amari mumble something along the lines of "you're so gay." and that must have motivated paige to come annoy me.

i feel someone plop down in my seat next to me but i don't even bother, knowing it's paige.

"hi." she grins pulling the headphone off my ear to get my full attention. i slip them off and hang them around my neck leaning against the back of the seat.

"hi baby." i whispered brushing back her flyaways and holding my hands on her cheeks for a few seconds, silently asking her to please calm down. she still gives me her little giddy grin, and i can't help but smile back.

"you played good tonight." i soften my voice letting hands drop down to her lap holding onto her hands. my thumbs running over her skin.

"so, you gonna put that pussy on me or what?" i can see the look in her eyes, she's not kidding. i mean if i had a game like the one she just had i'd understand.

"i'm not the one who dropped 30 today, imma show you how proud i am." the amount of joy that goes through her face at my words is actually insane.

the second paige and i make our way into our hotel room, hand in hand giggling, we cuddle up in bed and turn on the tv. about 30 minutes later i look down to see paige spread across my chest just relaxing in the feeling of me. "thought you were gonna put that pussy on me." i whisper my lips tracing the outline of her ear. as much as paige liked having dominance over the situation, she fucking loved it when i got her right. i see paige pick her head up slowly as her tired hooded eyes meet my own, but there's a glint of something else in them.

"imma do whatever the fuck you want me to." her voice deep and raspy, i'd give anything to hear her voice all day everyday.

"good girl." i whisper my one hand tugging her chin up to me, causing our lips to meet. the first touch was soft, but it didn't take long for paige's mouth to slot open letting my tongue slide around, exploring every inch of her mouth i knew all to well. my other hand sliding up the back of her shirt leaving a tingling sensation wherever i touch. before i could move again paige had propped herself up practically pushing me down into the pillows as she pushed her mouth against mine in a kind of urgency neither of us had been prepared for.

everything else in the room quickly forgotten, all 5 of my senses quickly attuned towards paige.

"imma make it quick so we can get you to sleep okay superstar?" i mumble against her tired lips. her motions had gotten sloppy but not at all less motivated. my girl was grumpy when she didn't sleep. and we were not about to have a grumpy paige.

"how tired you feeling, you wanna lay back for me or you wanna sit up?" i whisper, a string of spit connecting our lips as we pull away, her breathing heavy.

"lay down." she whispers rolling off of me and laying flat on her back her chest rising and falling. i let a small smile cross my face as i push her shirt up and let it sit above her sports bra.

"you wanna take these off?" i whisper my lips ghosting her stomach, pressing soft kisses and licks across her toned abdomen as i position myself between her legs. she props herself up and i help her slip both items of clothing off, drawing my mouth back to her small perky breasts. my thumb runs gently across her neck in a soothing manner. she lets out soft sighs and i completely relax into the feeling of her.

"az." i hear her mumble and i move my mouth from her chest onto that spot behind her ear i know all too well.

"i gotchu baby, i gotchu." i knew i wasn't gonna tease her, or be a bitch tonight, tonight was about showing her just how proud of her i was. and she deserved just that. i slide my hands to her waistband and sit up as i slide both her pants and boxers off at the same time.

"you're so beautiful my love." i whisper pressing a soft kiss on her lower stomach. she shifted on the bed uncomfortably as i pushed her legs apart and settled in between them again. before she can even think i hook her feet above my shoulders and lick a long stripe up her heat. i feel her back arch off the bed as she sucks in a breath. her face contorting in pleasure. i could get off to just watching her. i feel her hands grip onto my hair pulling me into her before i can even get a breath out. i run my tongue gently across her clit, my movements soft but just the right amount for her, sucking gently at her skin.

"fuck, fuck baby, so good." paige starts to ramble off incoherent words and i continue my work, letting my tongue slip down into her entrance and brushing my nose to where my lips previously were. expertly knowing just what she needs. i feel her legs trembling over my shoulders and it gives me confidence. my hands pull her thighs impossibly closer, trying to get as far into her as i physically could.

the whole world is gone, the only thing going through my mind is the taste of the girl i love, the smell of her sweat, arousal, and cologne all mushed together, she feel of her legs around my head, the sight of her sweaty abs glistening in the light right in front of me, and the small sounds she was letting out at my movements. everything perfectly at ease. i feel her buck her hips against my tongue and i know it before she even says anything.

"az-" she tries to speak but is cut off by an even more beautiful moan slipping from her mouth as she pushes the back of her head into the pillow.

"look at me paige, look at me and let go." my voice deep and husky as i keep my mouth on her not letting up one bit. she's propped up on her elbows, my eyes soft as i watch her come undone. her hands tighten further in my hair as i feel her pool into my mouth, and i have no problem licking her clean. but when im done licking it up, i don't stop, keep going as i feel her clench around my tongue for the second time tonight. but then i feel her hands desperately pushing at my forehead.

"off, too much- can't." she breaths out and i do as she says moving only a centimeter away from her heat as i breathe into her.

"one more baby, i know you can." when i went down on her there was absolutely no stopping me and she knew it. she nodded her head with big eyes and threw her arm over her eyes as i got back to work. my tounge flicks a little rougher than last time as i realize just how close she is already. her legs tremble over my shoulders and all i can do is grab onto her thighs, my hands digging into her skin. i look up at her, eyes closed just taking in the moment and i slow my movements just a little, trying to remember exactly this moment, wanting to hold it with me forever. i see her back arch higher and i know she doesn't have much longer so i slip away from her and trail my hand up her chest and hold two fingers in front of her lips.

"open." i hum as she takes my fingers in her mouth swirling her tongue around and between them getting them all ready for her.

"good girl." i murmur as i slide my hand back down and circle my now wettened fingers over her clit. but i feel her twitch under me and replace my fingers with my lips, sucking hard. my fingers easily dip into her wetness and fall into a steady rhythm for only a few seconds before without a warning she's gushing all over my hand and my chin. i look up at her, she looks like she's screaming but there's no sound coming out. the hottest fucking scene i've ever looked at. she lets out a strangled moan as her body falls limp against the bed. i slip out of her and pull my lips away from her throbbing center.

"so good for me, you did so good baby. so proud." i smile coming up to flop down on the bed right beside her. she gives me a lazy smile before her eyes fall closed. after a few minutes when i know she's at least calmed down a little i turn to her my own breath finally evened out.

"you know, you still never put that pussy on me." i grin a wicked smile as my hand traced across her bare stomach and my eyes meet hers just as she opens them. she gives me a look almost pleading me to not continue. but knowing she has one more in her i give her my own look. a look of desperation.

"sit on my face p come on." hoping the dirtiness of the words would finally bring out the last bit of desire she had in her. and boy was i right because she sat up in no time. her eyes wide almost asking me if i was sure. it wasn't something we'd done before, i'd done it to her but not this way. and it was exactly what i wanted. i swing her leg over my head so she was hovering over me. i lick a stripe up her wetness gathering what i could on my tongue as i desperately try to pull her down onto me.

"az, careful baby, i don't wanna hurt you." her voice was raw and worn out, yes so sweet and gentile. everything about her made me smile.

"don't worry, i got you, just relax, sit down." i feel her slowly let all her weight fall onto me and i wasted absolutely no time, able to hit new spots with my tongue at this new angle.

"taste so fucking good." the vibrations of my voice caused her to tense up around my tongue and i felt her legs tremble already, only seconds in and she was overwhelmed.

"gonna- can't- azzi." she murmurs holding on to the headboard for the most part and i pull her hips to rock against me as she works herself through the third orgasm of the night. she turns around and flops back her cheeks flushed and her lips bright pink as i kiss them gently.

"no more, all done, sleep." she mumbles her eyes falling down already.

"did so good mama, all done, time for bed." i sit up and strip off every item of clothing i was wearing and wrap myself in her side, the skin to skin contact perfect.

"goodnight paige." i whisper against her neck, hearing the soft snores coming from her body.

[muqingslover]

[ Caleb canonically doing MC's laundry has set something off in my brain so here I am. Also, happy Valentine's day ! here's a longer one as a treat from me ;) I've been posting kinda of non-stop haha ] if you saw me post this before no you didn't

This has happened before. In fact, it had happened a few too many times for his sanity's sake. Whenever Caleb offered to do your laundry to be helpful he always had to deal with the strain in his pants that he pretended wasn't there by covering his lap with a magazine and thinking about literally anything else besides that tantalizing piece of fabric. He's been a good man, or at least he's always tried to be one for you. But was it really his fault if the situation was presented to him with a quite literally adorable little red bow?

Still, he has an admiring amount of self-restraint and for days he told himself he should give them back to you. Every time you two met he kept waiting for the moment to return it, clutching the fabric in his pocket, but all he received were reasons not to. Or perhaps, he just saw what he wanted to see. That's how a week turned into months and then the tortuous years without contact that drove him to the brink of insanity. Fighting back the urge to find you again and do everything his mind has fantasized about countless times was one of the hardest battles he ever faced, and that was saying something.

"Fuck..." He exhaled shakily. His head hit the wall behind him and he spread his legs further on the chair of his private quarters, keeping a firm hand wrapped around the base of his cock. It started after he found the old pair of panties that he had so carefully stored away and now all his mind had to offer were twisted fantasies. Caleb was in biiig trouble— He had to leave in less than fifteen minutes for a meeting and there were security officers constantly passing by his door, but he was past the stage that a simple cold shower and mental math equations would make the issue go away. The images of how the fabric would've adorned your curves in all the right places were soon followed by the memories of how sometimes he'd get a sneak peek when you bent over in front of him and gods that was the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

His metallic hand clutched the delicate fabric tighter as he trapped the lace between his teeth to force down another low groan when his palm began moving up and down again and the faint smell of your soap made his mind feel fuzzy. He was so sensitive that it ached to be touched— He was sure if this was your hand he'd have come on the spot the second your fingers brushed against him. Hell, if you breathed a bit too closely to his cock he'd fall apart like the pathetic man he is and he can only picture how your beautiful face would look covered with his cum. Can you blame him though? He's never even considered doing this with anyone else, nor will he ever do that, and his busy military life didn't leave much space for his own...moments.

He released the lace from his teeth and pressed the red fabric against his swollen tip, accidentally letting out a strained moan that was a bit too loud as his eyes rolled back into his head. He decided to quickly shut himself up by pushing his dog tag into his mouth to bite down on the metal, otherwise everyone outside his room would know just what the colonel was doing. Caleb imagined that the wet line his precum had made was because of your arousal for him instead. The way it would seep through the thin fabric and mark your pussy for him in such a filthy way. The way he'd lick along the damp spot and enjoy each and every sound that he'd surely drag out of your throat while he had your thighs around his head.

His hips jerked as he thrusted himself into his hand, into your panties, into you. The room filled with his barely contained ragged breathing as he hoped your pussy would be as much of a slippery mess as his cock was right now when he pushed past your slit, stretching you open so good yet so agonizingly slow. His grasp around his length was tight when the friction of the thin fabric against his dripping cock sent him over the edge and he came so hard his body twitched non-stop. His dog tag slipped from his lips, dangling around his neck again as he slumped back against the chair after his strength left his body momentarily.

His eyes landed on the red panties that were now coated in his thick, white cum and Caleb raised his hand to bring the messy cloth to his lips. He pushed his tongue out and licked along right at the middle where your soaked cunt would be, tasting his own release and wishing it was yours. It was a shame he had gotten such a pretty and precious thing dirty but, not to worry, he's always been good at cleaning up.

[melodyreads]

Only threw this party for you

Hamzah x (fem)reader

Description: It's the reader's birthday and she decided to host a "rager". Her friends are skeptical as she's never been interested in hosting parties. Little do they know, it was all planned with the hope that one person in particular would make an appearance.

a/n: I'm sure you can tell from my profile pic that I'm a huge Charli fan lol. This idea came to me as I was playing this album on repeat. Hope y'all enjoy <3

---

The bass thumped against the walls, the thick air overbearing with the smell of spilled drinks and hot bodies. You had never been one for house parties—especially not the kind filled with strangers you barely knew. But this made the party all that much more appealing right? Tonight was different.

Tonight was a gamble.

Your friends had raised their eyebrows when you’d proposed the idea. "Since when do you throw parties?" Taylor had asked, skepticism lacing her tone. You’d only shrugged, feigning nonchalance, while anticipation clawed at your ribs. You have just recently moved into a new apartment with lots of space, so this could be your chance to show it off. While everyone else thought this was just a random burst of spontaneity, you knew better.

You’d planned every detail of this night with one hope in mind:

that Hamzah would show up.

Hamzah had been your friend for years— at least, that was how you would describe him. You weren't even sure if he felt the same way anymore. Your friendship teetering on the edge of something more but never quite crossing that line. That was until one night you had said a few more words then you should have.

---

It had been late, just the two of you lingering in the glow of streetlights after the rest of your friends had gone home. He always walked you home.

His arms rested in his pockets as he looked down at you smiling while you recited a story you found hilarious.

"Can you believe that? She went that far all for some guy. I can't even imagine."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean, people do crazy things for the people they like."

You laughed, a little breathless, but his smile made your heart skip. It was like there was a quiet understanding between the two of you, a connection that lingered in the spaces between your words.

As we arrived at my apartment, something in the city air made me feel a bit too confident. Suddenly, words tumbled from your lips before you could stop it. "Honestly, I can only imagine going that far if he was someone like you."

Too much.

Hamzah stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape with wide eyes.

You had let your guard slip.

He hadn’t responded right away. His gaze had flickered, searching yours, his lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing came. The silence stretched too long, thick and suffocating, until finally, he had only managed a quiet, "I should go."

___

That was the last you had heard from him in weeks. You were too embarrassed to phone him or go by his house and apologize for making the situation so weird.

You tried not to scan the crowd too obviously, though your heart shot up each time the front door creaked open. Friends mingled, and people you barely knew were making out in corners. Almost everyone was enjoying themselves, dancing in dim lighting without a care in the world. Someone had taken control of the playlist, swapping your mix of what you liked to call, "gay club music" with Nettspend.

Still, no Hamzah.

You were starting to lose hope.

You went outside in an attempt to cool off. The view was the highlight of your new place. The city lights shined brightly as you looked down imagining what the rest of the world was doing tonight.

What he was doing.

Your head turned to see the steam rolling off the newly integrated pool on your balcony. Beside the view, it was your favorite part of the apartment, and one of the main reasons you fought so hard to secure this place. You looked back through the door you came from.

No one seemed to notice you were even gone.

You slowly removed the short dress you were wearing. As you kicked it to the side, you plunged into the warm water.

The warmth of the water wrapped around you, contrasting against the crisp night air. You let yourself float, eyes closed, taking in the sacred peacefulness. You felt your heart start to ache. You weren’t sure if it was the remnants of disappointment or the burn of anticipation that you couldn’t quite shake.

When you finally broke the surface, slicking your hair back and blinking against the city lights, your breath caught in your throat.

Hamzah was there.

Sitting by the edge of the pool, laying back on his arms, watching you with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes bore into yours with an expression almost unreadable The golden glow of the city cast soft shadows across his face, making the moment feel almost unreal.

You suddenly became acutely aware of your lack of clothes.

Your stomach twisted as embarrassment crept up your spine. You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, to maybe make a joke and defuse the tension, but nothing came out. He beat you to it.

“You always do this,” he said in a deep but quiet voice.

Your brows knitted together. “Do what?”

“Run away.”

You swallowed hard, shifting in the water as you hugged your arms around yourself. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

Hamzah let out a breath, shaking his head. “I wasn’t. I just… I needed to think.”

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure what to say to that. The air between you buzzed with an unspoken weight, the memory of your last encounter hanging between you like a feeling you couldn't shake.

Then, in the silence, he said it.

“I like you.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” he continued, his voice softer now, like he wasn’t entirely sure how to say it. “And I freaked out when you got close because I didn’t know if you felt the same.”

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too quickly. The warmth of the pool did nothing to ease the chill spreading through your veins—not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of his words.

You started to move towards him.

Reaching for the ledge, you pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to get the bottom half of his clothes wet.

The space between you dissolves into nothing. Your fingers found his jaw, your fingers finally meeting at the side of his mouth before leaning in.

The moment his lips met yours, it was like everything clicked into place.

Your mouths moved against each other in fever as if you were both making up for lost time. Which you definitley were.

In one swift movement, he pulled you out of the water completely so that your drenched body was straddling his. The tension that had been lingering for weeks melted in the heat of the kiss. He tasted like the city night and something inherently him—something you had been wanting for longer than you cared to admit. His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into the slick fabric of your bra, grounding you in the reality of it all.

When you finally pulled away, foreheads touching, his breath mingling with yours, you couldn’t help but smile.

"So..." Hamzah said out of breath, "Who’s the lucky guest of honor?”

You shrugged, ignoring the way your pulse betrayed you. “Dunno. Just… felt like celebrating.”

He chuckled at this, something dark in his eyes shined as he leaned in close enough for only me to hear.

“Happy birthday, then,” he murmured, voice softer now.

Maybe—just maybe—the gamble had paid off.

---

a/n: Just wrote this in my 365 partygirl shirt hope I channeled the vibes. Thank u for reading <3333333333333333

[urfavleo777]

warnings: smut, oral (f&m), language, fingering

Luigi helps his girlfriend relieve stress after a long day at college

You stumble into Luigi's dorm, your body heavy with the weight of the day. Uni is a nightmare, and you feel the tears threatening to spill any second. Your mind races, emotions all over the place. You just need to be somewhere safe.

Luigi is already sitting on his bed, flipping through a book, but when he sees your face, he immediately sets it aside. "Hey… what’s going on?" he asks, his voice soft with concern.

You don’t say anything at first, just wrap your arms around him tightly as if you're afraid to let go. You bury your face in his chest, your breath shaky as you fight back the tears. "I spend hours on studying and poring over books, but the next day I forget half of it. I’m so dumb.”

He sighs softly, his hands gently rub your back, pulling you closer. “What did I tell you about saying things like that?”

“To not to.” you mumble.

He laughs softly, “Well, yes. But it’s because you’re too hard on yourself. You were just explaining all of this to me yesterday.”

You cling to him a little tighter, trying to steady your breath. The warmth of his embrace is grounding, but the storm inside your head refuses to calm. "I know," you whisper, "but it feels like nothing's sinking in. Every day is just one more reminder that I'm not good enough."

Luigi pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes soft but firm. "Listen to me," he says gently. "You’re not dumb, okay? You’re working hard, and that means something. It’s not about remembering everything at once. It’s about the effort you put in, and you’re doing that." He pauses, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "If studying were easy, it wouldn’t be worth anything. You’re going through the struggle now so that it gets easier later."

You close your eyes, trying to let his words sink in, but the self-doubt still lingers. "I just don’t know how to keep going when I feel like I’m failing."

"My baby." You almost drift off when he calls you like this and places a kiss on your forehead. "Everyone has those moments. Hell, I have them too. But you’ve got to give yourself grace. You’re allowed to have tough days. Just don’t quit."

You inhale deeply, letting the comfort of his presence settle over you. "But what if I can’t do it? What if I keep forgetting everything?"

The despair in your voice makes his heart ache, and he pulls you back against his chest.

“Maybe you just need to approach it differently,” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, “Your whiteboard isn’t helping?”

“No,” you sigh, “I just keep looking at it and nothing really sticks.”

His hands move gently, tracing small circles on your back as he holds you close, as if trying to melt away some of the tension weighing on you. "It's okay," he murmurs, a cocky smile plays on his lips. "We'll come up with a better idea.”

You are too weary to read the ambiguity of Luigi’s words, so all you manage to do is just sigh and immerse yourself in his touch.

Luigi rolls you over and your lips are instantly on his as you lay a hand on his neck, “Or maybe it’s just stress and you need someone to help you relieve it?”

You gasp out, fingers lacing through his hair, “Lu,” you grind down onto him as you trail your kisses lower, down along the line of his jaw to his neck.

Luigi lifts his head just as you look down at him and you let out a moan, pulling him up for a long kiss. Your hand glides down his chest, your fingertips barely grazing the ridges of his abs, tracing slow, soothing patterns. Moans escape your lips and you tug on his hair, earning a groan from him. Your eyes bounce from his lips to his eyes, “Please.”

“So eager.”

Luigi’s fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. He rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.

“Baby, you're soaked through your panties..." He pants out.

Your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure.

Taking your moan as an invitation, Luigi carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. Then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart… feel good?” He croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.

Your legs are already shaking before he’s even started and it makes him smile against you, blowing on your cunt to see your cute reactions. He uses his pretty fingers to spread your hole open, licking at you so passionately it’s like he’s making out with your wet pussy.

His skilled tongue is nearly too much for you, making you grab at his hair and tug harshly but it just makes him moan, the vibrations causing you to lift your hips off the bed and Luigi has his eyes on you the whole time, peering up at you with his big, bambi eyes.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and dripping with desperation. “Let me hear you. You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel yourself teetering on the brink, unable to hold back any longer.

And then it happens. You feel yourself start to convulse around his fingers, your body trembling as a broken cry tears from your lips. Luigi continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure. The waves of your orgasm crash over you, leaving you breathless and weak.

"Did so well for me, baby," he coos, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips in an attempt to pull you back down to earth.

“Mhmm, Lu…”

“Yeah? What do you need?” He smirks.

Mind too preoccupied and taken up with thoughts of taking him down your throat. Thoughts you’d spent nearly a week daydreaming about. Maybe he was the reason why you could never concentrate on your studies. “I need you in my mouth please.”

“Is this what you want? Huh?” You nod your head in response, falling to your knees as your hand began to unbuckle his belt.

His swollen tip hits the back of your throat, the sudden sensation causing you to tense up and attempt to pull away. He was far too big to fit inside your tiny little mouth.

You gargle around his length, submitting to him completely, letting him use your mouth to get himself off. You reach one hand up, massaging his balls in your hand, kneading it in your palm, knowing exactly what it does to him.

“Do that again- Shit, just like that, right there.”

His eyes shoot down to where you’re looking up at him with teary eyes, your mouth enveloping him fully, and then to where you're massaging his balls. This was definitely what he needed and deserved.

He lets out an involuntary groan. “Yeah, keep looking as you’re ruining me.”

You dig your nails into his thighs as he presses your head down hard enough to choke you of air. It doesn’t take him long before he comes with a loud groan, hips bucking without a pattern. You swallow it to the best of your ability, some leaking out and dripping down your chin. He lets out a satisfied hum, stretching out your arms in your direction. “Come here, nerd.”

You giggle, breaking the silence of the two of you heavy breathing. “Well, not quite a nerd.”

“Since I fucked some knowledge into you, yes you’re my favorite nerd.” He laughs while playing with your hands.

“Oh shut up.”

[organic-bloodbath]

Since Valentine's Day is around the corner I was wondering if you could you write about Thanos x reader about Thanos and the reader being childhood friends for many years until they got older and now developed feelings for each other so Thanos is trying to tell the reader about his feelings for her by asking her to be his Valentine?

Thanks!

Marry me?

Thanos x Reader

Summary: Thanos tries to find a way to confess his love for you and recreates some of your old memories together.

Warnings: This is so sweet and fluffy your teeth are gonna rot.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day sweeties ♡

☆☆☆

Thanos looked in your way as you worked on your painting. You had been here for the past three hours, having no breaks. Time flew faster than you realized when you had dived into the trance of painting and an hour felt like barely half of it.

You had been studying art for the past two years and were doing your final project at the moment. You had spent a lot of time and effort on it and were actually proud of it.

As you turned around, Thanos noticed a spot of blue paint stuck on your cheekbone. Your hands were always on paint too, you were so careless that sometimes you looked like you had been fingerpainting instead of using a brush. He wanted to press his thumb on your cheek and brush the paint off but he let his arms hang down on his sides.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or what?"

Every time your eyes locked with his, his heart skipped a beat and butterflies were flying inside his stomach, a smile creeping its way on his lips.

"It's looking good," he complimented and nodded towards the large painting.

"Oh, it's not nearly done yet," you shook your head. "But thanks." You turned back to your painting, adding a yellow stroke to the sun. "What's up?"

"Y/N," Thanos said quietly, taking a deep breath as he was gathering his words and courage in one pile.

"Hm?"

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"Well, one guy did ask me out and to be his Valentine," you answered. "Wanted to take me for a dinner."

Thanos' heart dropped and his eyes widened, but then he quickly tried to wipe the shocked and disappointed expression from his face. He didn't think he succeeded at that very well, but thankfully you hadn't looked at him.

"Oh, really?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, making him awkwardly clear his throat. "Who is he?"

"One guy from my class. I know he's had a crush on me for a long time," you shrugged and continued painting, dipping your brush in the red paint on your palette. "I said no, though."

Thanos tried to fight the smile off his face, his heart racing faster now for a sprinkle of hope.

"I see," he mumbled. "So, your calendar is free tomorrow?"

"Yep," you confirmed and turned your head towards Thanos. "Why?"

"Well, I was thinking if you wanted to do something with me," Thanos offered.

"Sure, what did you have in mind?"

"Hmm, it's a surprise," he smiled, trying to act all mysterious. You lifted your eyebrows and crossed your arms on your chest, the brush making a red line on your arm in the process.

"A surprise, huh?" you repeated. "Not going to give even a small hint?"

"Nope, you'll see then."

You narrowed your eyes. "Alright, keep your secrets."

☆☆☆

Thanos had been in love with you for years, but was afraid of revealing it to you. What if you didn't feel the same for him and he'd ruin your friendship with his dumb confession? But he was equally as scared to say anything at all.

He couldn't keep his feelings hidden anymore, hiding them was eating him alive. He couldn't watch one more guy flirt with you, be able to kiss you and hold you close. You hadn't dated anyone in the past few years, and somewhere in his heart Thanos had a nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way about him and were only waiting for him to gather enough courage to ask you out.

Thanos had thought about a million different ways how to tell you about his feelings, but still didn't know which one would be good enough. Should he just take your hand, look into your eyes and tell you those three words that were stuck in his throat? Should he plan a huge surprise for you and do a grand gesture for confessing how he felt? Buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, along with a box of those strawberry chocolates you couldn't get enough of?

He knew you didn't care too much about big surprises and large spectacles, you liked simple gestures, but still he wanted to put effort on telling about his feelings more than holding your hands in your living room while tv was playing today's news. Maybe he should cook a nice dinner for the two of you? Buy candles of your favorite scent?

You deserved only the best and nothing less.

☆☆☆

When you were 12 years old, your mom took you and your sister to an arcade. You loved playing different games but this was your first time in this arcade.

You wanted to play a race car game, which would include two players, but your sister didn't care about it. She had gone to play some space shooting game which name you didn't know. As you stood by the machine, a boy approached you.

"Do you want to play?" he asked.

"Um, i don't have a partner to play with," you answered shyly.

"Me neither," he said. "Want to play together?"

Your heart fluttered as you looked at the boy's smiling face.

"Sure," you said quietly. You had always been a little nervous and shy around boys, you didn't know exactly why.

You sat on the leather chairs next to each other and grabbed the wheel with both of your hands.

"Just so you know, i've never lost in this game," the boy said proudly.

"Is that a challenge?" you scoffed. "We'll see about that."

You had played a race car game a few times with your dad. Obviously you had won every round, because he wouldn't let his little daughter lose and get upset.

As you managed to get to the finish line just a few seconds before the boy, you let out a cheer while the boy only sat there silent, absolutely speechless. Nobody had beat him before, and now he lost to a girl? Absolutely outrageous.

"Ha, i won," you mocked him, seeing the defeated look on his face. "Want to play again?"

And for the next four rounds, he won only once, and that was because you let him so he wouldn't go back home totally upset.

Now, Thanos entered the same arcade, you following behind him.

"Su-bong," you said slowly. "Is this a date?"

Thanos felt his cheeks become red.

"Oh, well, i mean - do you want this to be one?" he stuttered.

"You brought me to the place where we first met on a Valentine's day," you pointed out with an amused smile. "I'd say that's pretty romantic."

You had guessed Thanos was planning a date for you, since it was Valentine's Day, but only never mentioned the 'date' word so you went along with it the way he did. You had noticed his reaction, the tone in his voice, when you mentioned that someone had asked you out, and his demeanor changing immediately when you told him you had refused.

"Would it be okay if... this was a date?" he asked carefully, sounding like he was afraid of getting slapped on the face. You didn't answer right away, which made Thanos panic a little bit. "It doesn't have to be, if you don't want to."

You bit your lip to prevent you smiling too widely. You had rarely seen Thanos as shy as he was acting right now, cheeks pink, and found it adorable.

"Maybe," you teased. "Do you have any other plans for our date?" You intentionally put more weight on the last word.

"I might have," he smiled.

"Is that a surprise too or will you reveal it to me?"

"I'll have it as a surprise," he said. "Atleast until i win in the car race."

"What do you mean 'win'?" you huffed, narrowing your eyes, arms against your chest. "Mind you, it's pretty obvious i'm better than you."

"To be fair, that was 15 years ago, and you failed your first driving test to get your driving license."

"I guess we'll see then, hm?"

For the first round, you took easy on him and held back, pretending to be worse than him and lose on purpose. He had to get false hope in his head that he's better than you, just so you could crush his ego on the next round.

"You can't be serious," Thanos scoffed.

"Told you, i'm better than you," you said. "You know what difference we have? I'm a reckless driver while you're the more careful one. That's why i don't drive in real life but succeed in videogames."

To be honest, on the outside you and Thanos looked probably the complete opposite, Thanos being the more reckless one.

"I'll win you one day, let me tell you," Thanos insisted.

"I guess we'll have to come here more often and get a membership card or something."

You felt your stomach growling.

"So, i hope the next part of our date involves food," you stated. "Otherwise i'll be angry if you're going to starve me."

"Don't worry, there's food," he assured you.

☆☆☆

Thanos took you into a restaurant where you hadn't eaten in ages. It had been your favorite place when you were a teenager, visiting it regularly with Thanos and your other friends too. You didn't really remember why you had stopped going there.

Your first time in this restaurant had been with Thanos. You were 16 years old at the time and you had missed the last bus which would take you back home. The restaurant was open until late at night around 1 or 2 am and it was the only one open nearby.

"What is this place?" you had asked.

"One of my favorite restaurants, they serve the best french fries," Thanos told you. "And you can get a dessert on discount."

"On discount?" you asked. "What are you, a regular customer and get every fifth pancake for free?"

"No, they have this policy that if someone proposes here, they get free dessert."

"You've proposed to a girl before?" Now you were really intrigued.

"Not yet, but i've seen that happen. Twice."

"You know that we're only 16, Su-bong," you reminded him.

"You look older though," he said, making you to smack his shoulder in annoyance.

Hesitantly, you agreed for a proposal performance in the middle of the restaurant after you had finished your meal. You had never enjoyed becoming the centre of attention, but with Thanos it felt different, because his presence managed to relax a lot more.

He really did drop down on his knee in front of you by your table, taking your hands in his as he showed you the ring, which was just shaped out of a piece of aluminium foil while you ate. You hadn't told him, but you kept the "ring" in your jewelry box for months, until you accidentally lost it somewhere.

He hadn't joked around back then, they really did offer you free dessert to a newly engaged couple, and the restaurant believed the act completely.

"We're eating here?"

"Yep," he said. "And i hope you're able to act along again."

"What, you going to propose again?" you chuckled and lifted your left eyebrow.

"I might," he admitted, then leaning close to whisper into your ear. "But don't tell Y/N, it has to be a surprise."

"My lips are sealed," you promised and closed the invisible zipper on your lips.

You entered the restaurant, a few people sitting at the tables, most of them looked like couples.

You ordered food and ate while having a nice conversation between the bites. He asked about your art project and in general about your most recent works which you were always excited to talk about. Thanos loved listening to your voice and especially hear you laugh. He loved how passionate you were about art as well.

You didn't know how much time had passed, most likely around an hour and half. After you had almost finished eating, Thanos took your hand in his over the table and looked directly into your eyes.

"Y/N," he said and tried to stay serious and not burst out laughing for what he was about to do. "I have something to tell you." He started to stand up, but not until he whispered to you: "Remember to act surprised."

Thanos got up and kneeled right in front of you, getting a ring out of his pocket and held it in the air on his eye level. You had to cover your mouth only to stop you from laughing.

"Y/N, will you marry me?"

You had always been good at faking tears and make yourself cry out of nothing. Right now, you let your eyes water again and twisted your face to look absolutely shocked, keeping your hand against your mouth. But faking the tears was easier than it would have been normally in other situations. The way he looked at you now with his pleading eyes made your heart race and butterflies appear in your stomach.

"Yes!" you squeled, on purpose loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear. Luckily the restaurant wasn't very large, so the waitress wasn't far away either. "Of course i'll marry you, honey."

A few people had turned to look at the two of you, pausing their own conversation. As Thanos got up and pulled you into a warm, tight hug, a few people started to clap and cheer for you, making your cheeks turn red.

Thanos put the ring on your finger. It was made of plastic and had a pink jewel on it, which looked like it could fall off any moment. But it fit perfectly in your finger.

You sat back at your table, and soon the waitress brought two plates of cheesecake for both of you.

"Congratulations," she smiled. "On the house."

You and Thanos thanked her.

"You know, this is the second time you've proposed to me but there still hasn't been a wedding," you pointed out, acting a little disappointed, and took a spoonful of cheesecake into your mouth. "Truly feels like you're avoiding commitment."

"I'm not avoiding anything, excuse me," Thanos stated.

"Mhm," you hummed, enjoying every bite of your cheesecake which was the best you had ever tasted.

"Alright then." Thanos straightened his back. "I suppose our date has one more step."

☆☆☆

You ended up into an empty park, nobody else in sight. It was already dark, the moon shining above you and a few starts here and there. This was the place where you and Thanos used to come after school sometimes, just to hang out when there wasn't many kids around.

"What are we doing here, Su-bong?" you asked, looking around you.

"I'm improvising our wedding," he said.

"Oh really?" you asked, surprised he was actually going through with it.

"Mhm," he hummed.

"We don't have a priest though."

"I was at my cousin's wedding couple of months ago, i think i can handle that," he said confidently. He didn't remember all the correct words but this was a last second wedding anyway.

"Well, we need a wedding witness too," you pointed out. Thanos looked around the park for a moment until spotted something on the ground.

"That's easy," he said and grabbed a teddy bear from the ground. It was dirty and wet after being dropped in a puddle. "He will do."

"I think he needs to be a little older and more alive."

"Y/N, look at him," Thanos said seriously and pointed at the bear where he had just put it, sitting on the ground facing you. "He has clearly seen life more than enough."

"Alright, fair enough," you chuckled.

"Okay, stand over here," he said, pulling you to the correct spot by his hand on your elbow. "Just like that, don't move."

Thanos didn't stand in front of you, but next to you, facing towards the bear.

"We have gathered here today to wed this beautiful couple," Thanos announced, lowering his voice even lower than his natural voice normally was. "Su-bong, please say your wedding vows."

Thanos stepped to stand in front of you, taking your hands in his. He cleared his throat and straightened his back until looked directly into your eyes. You tried to keep a serious face but was on the edge of laughing.

"Y/N... i really like you," Thanos said slowly and took a deep breath. He hadn't exactly planned a proper speech of his love confessing to you, so he had to just say everything that came into his mind. "I've known you over half of my life. You're that one person in my life who i will never want to lose. You're beautiful, funny, creative and the most caring person i know. I've had the best moments of my life with you and i hope we can keep making more of those memories together. I promise to love you always and forever, if you'll have me."

Your cheeks were burning hot, butterflies in your stomach ripping you apart and you couldn't get rid of the smile on your face, almost hurting your cheeks by now.

"That was beautiful, Su-bong," you admitted quietly. "Are you sure you don't write anything else than rap lyrics?"

"Just said what came into my mind by looking at you," he confessed and lifted his hand to put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Well, i liked that," you smiled. "I liked that a lot."

Thanos stepped back into the priests spot for a second.

"Y/N, please say your wedding vows to this handsome gentleman," he announced, then stepping back to his spot in front of you.

"You know i'm not very good with words," you mumbled shyly.

"That's okay," he said in a comforting tone. "It doesn't have to be a long speech."

"Su-bong," you said, taking a deep breath. "You've been my best friend ever since we were kids. You've always been there for me in everything and you're the person i trust the most in my life. And i want to have you for the rest of my life by my side."

Thanos looked at you in complete awe, his heart about to burst out of his chest. He wanted to grab you into his arms already, it took all his effort to stay still on his spot.

"Y/N, will you take Choi Su-bong as your lawful husband and promise to cherish and love him until death takes you apart?"

You bit your lip to try and resist the smile breaking your face by stretching too large.

"This is your last chance to say no and run away from the invisible altar," Thanos whispered to you. "Just make sure not to trip on the sand box on the way."

You chuckled and eventually nodded. "I will."

He felt like he would need to make you repeat those two simple words, just to make sure you had really agreed, and for a second he was frozen to his spot. He quickly shook his head to make himself function again and cleared his throat.

"Choi Su-bong, will you take Y/N as your lawful wife and promise to cherish and love her until death takes you apart?"

Thanos moved to his spot again, looking deep into your eyes.

"I will."

You let out a short giggle.

"In the presence of this dirty teddy bear, i hereby announce you a husband and wife," Thanos announced, hand on his heart. "You may kiss the bride."

You bit your lip, your insides warming up. Thanos took a step closer to you, only a few inches left between your bodies, and slowly put his hand on your cheek, it felt cold against your skin. He glanced at your lips, unsure if he should actually proceed or not.

You grabbed his face in your hands and instantly pulled him into a deep kiss. He didn't hesitate a moment longer, immediately putting his hands against your lower back to pull you closer against him. Thanos had waited for this moment for years and was sure that he was only dreaming and would wake up back to the reality any moment.

But you were in his arms, he was truly holding you close and finally kissing you. He had confessed his feelings to you and you hadn't just laughed at his face, making him feel ridiculous. Would you really be his?

You broke the kiss but kept your face close enough that the tip of your noses touched, keeping eye contact with him. Your hand rested against the back of his head, his on your hips.

"You know," you started with a teasing smile. "I think we should stay just as friends after all."

"That didn't convince you, huh?" he asked with raised eyebrows, face completely serious, putting his hand back on your cheek. "Do i need to do that again?"

"Perhaps," you teased. He didn't hesitate a second longer, pressing his lips on yours in a passionate, but also soft, kiss. His hands were wandering up your back.

"Did i convince you now?" he asked, putting his forefinger under your chin and touching your lower lip with his thumb. "I can do that as many times as i need to."

"I think we're good - for now," you smiled. "So, why did it take you this long to do that?"

"Because i'm an idiot," he laughed.

"So, are we engaged now for real, hm?" you asked, twirling the plastic ring on your finger.

"It's actually insulting that you think my real proposal includes a ring which cost 50 cents at a thrift shop," he defended himself with raised eyebrows. "And taking place at midnight in a park where teenagers come to smoke after school."

You looked at the ground and saw several cigarette stumps all around the sand.

"Fair," you giggled and bit your lip, then changing the tone of your voice to a more serious one. "But... if we're not official husband and wife right now, will we be one day?"

"If you want to," he whispered. "I'd like to settle for a boyfriend and girlfriend label for now - if that's okay with you?"

"More than okay," you agreed with a large smile and leaned in to kiss him again.

"Good," Thanos said and held you close.

☆☆☆

[littleindulgences]

If he were in the business of being honest with himself, Simon would admit that he was actually kind of nervous. He turns the blank white envelope over and over in his hands, watching you from across the mess hall. You’re sitting with a squad of recruits today, getting to know them for reasons he can’t fathom. Your smile warms him all the way from here.

“Ye just got to do it, LT,” Soap remarks with his mouth full. “‘S the only way to put it to rest.” Simon just grunts. He’s still a little loath to admit that he has a crush on you—it’s childish, and embarrassing, and compromising…

But he can’t help it.

He watches you exit the mess, the recruits trailing after you like ducklings. The envelope twists in his hands.

“She’s got range duty for the next two hours,” John says with raised eyebrows as he takes a sip of his drink. Simon purses his lips under the mask. His team stares at him pointedly.

“Ah, fuck off,” he grumbles, rising from the bench and walking off. “Arseholes.”

“Good luck, LT!” Soap calls after him. Simon flips him the bird. The Scot’s cackle follows him out.

Ghost wanders into the barracks, taking a winding, looping route that doesn’t do anything but make his apprehension worse. He finally forces himself to take Johnny’s advice and just fucking do it, and he marches right up to your locked door and slips the envelope underneath.

There. Nothing more to do but wait.

What the fuck. What the fuck. The note lays flat on your cot, rather unassuming, except for the newspaper-cutout letters and the thick black marker scrawling out a time, a place, and “You’ll Be Mine” with a little heart underneath.

“Well that’s…terrifying,” says Alicia, your bunkmate.

“Mhm,” you say. You’ve been staring at it for five minutes.

You found the envelope on the floor when you came back from training. It was blank except for the puppy dog sticker on the back, clearly intended to mimic your callsign: Watchdog. You’d opened it without a thought and found this, a threat/ransom note of what you think was meant to be a valentine.

“You’re not gonna go, are you?” Alicia asks.

You suck in a breath through your teeth and make a noncommittal noise. Alicia throws her hands up.

“Babe. You will get snatched if you go.”

“Not necessarily! Besides, if I go, then I know who sent this to me and can like…confront them or something,” you defend.

“Or you could take this to Price and report it,” Alicia deadpans, ever the voice of reason. You wave her off. She rolls her eyes and stands, bumping your shoulder. “Whatever. I’m heading out, my girlfriend’s waiting for me. Please try not to get kidnapped?”

“I’ll do my best,” you reply and give her a peck on the cheek.

But there are no guarantees in your line of work, and this is no exception. You narrow your eyes at the note. Bring it on.

You came. Holy shit this is farther than Simon thought he’d get. His palms feel sweaty. Did it get hot out all of a sudden?

“Ghost, you gotta calm down, mate,” Gaz whispers, motioning at him to breathe.

“I’m fine,” Simon snaps. You’re right there, turning every so often, peering into the dark with that look of concentration he loves on you. He can imagine the way your nose wrinkles and the way your tongue pokes between your teeth.

Simon shakes himself. Get it together, soldier.

“Alright, it’s go time!” Johnny whispers, and nudges Simon out of the shadows. “Go get ‘er LT!”

Simon takes one last deep breath and starts across the field to you.

Whoever invited you here is fuckin’ late. You’ve always been of the mind that early is on time and on time is late, which is most people’s opinion here anyway. And the note said 2100 hours! It’s coming up on 2105 now.

The note didn’t even name a meeting place, either, just coordinates that led to the massive oak tree behind the shooting range. Which isn’t suspicious at all. You turn in a slow circle every so often—head on a swivel and all that. While you were all bravado with Alicia earlier, you were a little tiny bit worried that maybe something would happen. You made sure to bring your bear mace with you, in the end. Just in case.

You’re about to call it quits and head back when a huge meaty hand falls on your shoulder.

Before you can blink you’ve whipped around, depressing what has to be half the canister on your attacker. They crumple, and you take the chance to plant your hands on their shoulders and your knee in their balls, sending them into the dirt. You take off running. Your heart climbs into your throat. Holy shit, Alicia was right!

You’re so caught up in your escape that you don’t notice where you’re going until you run smack into a barrel chest. Strong hands catch your arms and hold you upright.

“Woah, woah, lass! What was that?” It’s Soap, and he’s staring at you with a mix of horror and confusion. You see Gaz sprint off in the corner of your eye.

You’re out of breath. “I-I got this weird-ass note earlier,” you try to explain, “and it said to come out here? But it didn’t say who it was from and ‘Licia was worried I’d get kidnapped, and then that creep showed up—”

“That’s not a creep, that’s fuckin’ Ghost!”

“Huh?” You twist, and sure enough, Gaz is helping Ghost’s hulking form off the ground, supporting him as he struggles against the effects of the mace. Fuck.

Gaz and Simon stagger over. “We need to get him to medical,” Gaz says. You bury your face in your hands.

You sit awkwardly on a stool next to Ghost’s cot as the nurses irrigate his face. Price, Gaz, and Soap hover in the corner, talking quietly amongst themselves and occasionally looking over at you. You’d shown them the note Ghost had apparently given you.

Eventually the nurses leave Ghost be for a minute, and that’s when Price jumps in.

“Okay,” he starts, then turns to you. “Watch, you aren’t being stalked. Ghost wanted to give you a valentine rather than actually talk to you, against our advice.” Then he turns to Ghost. “Simon. Why.”

Ghost shrugs and frowns down at his lap. “You all said that valentines are ‘sposed to be secret. I knew she’d recognize my handwriting, so I improvised.”

“And you didn’t think that maybe you could just type something up?” Gaz asks. Simon shrugs again, but you can tell he’s blushing under the mask.

“Soap said handmade ones are better,” he admits quietly. The group turns to Soap. He gapes.

“Oh, like this is my fault,” he grumbles.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” Simon says, addressing you directly for the first time. “I just wanted…” He trails off, glares down at his lap.

“I’m sorry for macing you,” you tell him. “And for kneeing you in the balls.” Price facepalms beside you and you scramble to think of something else. “I—I liked the dog sticker, though!”

“Yeah?” Simon glances up at you. You can tell he’s grinning, and you smile back.

“Yeah,” you say. “Put him in my notebook.” The both of you sit there, smiling at each other like idiots.

“All right, ye two, tone it down,” Johnny chimes in, and Gaz elbows him. Price rolls his eyes and herds them out. You watch them leave, then turn back to Ghost. He’s picking at his cuticles, a rare show of vulnerability.

“Simon?” you say before you can overthink it.

“Mm?” He looks up at you. A stray sunbeam touches his face, turning his puffy, red-rimmed eyes into melted chocolate. You feel yourself flush.

“Would you…maybe want to go to dinner sometime?” you ask. Simon straightens on the tiny cot, and yeah, he’s really smiling now. Your heart kicks up a few notches.

“I’d love to,” he says. “Please don’t bring the mace.”

[kxtsukixoxo]

Hi!! I love your work .❤️❤️❤️ could you do izuku midoriya with the prompt “i'm going to make you regret this.”. Maybe the reader has been teasing izuku all day while he’s at his office or something like that.

authors note - i had so much fun writing this!! <3

here’s the valentine’s day event, there’s still prompts available!! ⊹. warnings - nsfw content

izuku groaned as your notification bubble popped up on his phone, once again. he knew exactly what that meant, yet another text or picture teasing him mercilessly, while he worked. 

he briskly searched for the call button underneath your display picture as he huffed on his way to the bathroom, you hadn’t answered yet. izuku’s right hand balanced his frame on the sink behind him, as the other held his phone, impatiently waiting for you to pick up. you finally did, “cut it out babe” he whined as you giggled, “nah uh, this is what you get for leaving me alone, all slick and wet for you, but you’re not here to help me” he could practically hear your pouting, as your words dripped off him like honey running loosely down his body. “fuck.” izuku panted as he threw his head back, “i’m gonna make you regret this baby” he huffed out as he loosened his tie. your giggle could be heard on the other end of the line as you whispered out “i look forward to it zu” 

izuku rushed to his car, after cancelling all his classes for the day, making sure aizawa would see to his class, he plopped into the drivers seat as he ran his hand through his hair. “you’re gonna be the death of me” izuku panted out while he spoke to himself, twisting the keys, igniting the engine. 

you’d js got out of the shower, tightening the string around your bathrobe, when you heard the impatient wrap of someone’s knuckles against your door, figuring it was possibly urgent, you rushed to the door, forgetting about changing into your set of clothes splayed across the bed. 

just a millisecond after you opened the door, izuku’s hands slid around your waist as he buried his face into dip between your neck and shoulder, “you really shouldn’t walk around like that baby” he muttered against your soft skin. you couldn’t tell when he did it, but you somehow ended up pressed against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he explored every nook and corner of your mouth, finally lifting you off and carrying you towards the queen sized bed, the both of you shared. “this is punishment. don’t forget that hm?” izuku murmured as his green tussled hair fell onto your face as he placed a kiss on your lips. 

“Oh, pretty girl," Izuku murmurs, a faux pout curling his lips as he admires the tears rolling down your face. A thumb wipes them away languidly, drawing slow circles over the apple of your cheek while he coos at your little blubbers, your timid sniffles and delicate whimpers. "You're doing amazing, such a good little thing, aren't you?"

The lilt in his voice is sly, sadistic, and his eyes shine with something wicked, barely-contained in the darkened green hues that leer down at you. His words hardly register, a heavy fog crawling through your mind as you come down from yet another high; all you can feel are his lips pressing against your cheeks in gentle pecks, and his tongue flicking over the salty trails while he mumbles against your skin.

"Look at my baby." He brushes his nose against yours in a soft bunny kiss before pulling back. "You sound so cute crying for me like that."

The sobs that were dying down begin bubbling up once more as his hand swirls around your swollen clit. Your legs tremble beneath his touch, burning as they tense in anticipation of the pleasure only Izuku can bring you; your breath hitches in your throat, a hiccuped gasp escaping you when his already-drenched fingers slide back into your quivering hole. You're sensitive to the touch, and he only takes advantage of that, crooking his digits against your silky walls to make you arch into him, panting breathlessly.

"Oh, is this what you want, angel?" he asks, unyielding as he slides a third finger in, and the stretch is excruciating in the most delicious way.

"It's too much, zuku-can't-again-ah, please!"

"'please?' Please what, baby?" he urges, his other hand smoothing down your body to circle your breasts, pinching and tweaking a bud to push your body to its limits. Your nerves are burning like a live wire, precariously sensitive to the slightest touch, just waiting for the right stimulant to push you over the edge and set your body alight. "Want me to stop?"

"No!" you cry, shaking your head as you cling to his fingers, pussy tightening around him as the waves of another high begin rolling in. "No- don't stop, don't- want you to- keep- like that, like that, please."

He hums against your neck, teeth teasing over your pulse with little nibbles. "Like this? Are you close, angel?"

"So, so close-"

"You want to cum for me? Cum all over my fingers again?"

You're nodding your head, barely paying attention to his words. Yeah, yeah, leaves your lips in high-pitched squeals as your nails dig into his skin, the tides of your release rearing back to crash all over you. "Please— please, want to cum, gonna— gonna cum—"

And just as the wave of your climax peaks, it evaporates into thin air. You let out a whiny exclamation at the loss of an orgasm, a pitiful no, please, please— slurring out of you when Izuku pulls his fingers away completely, leaving your greedy, needy hole to clench around nothing, desperately clinging to the receding tides of your high.

Your hand drops to finish yourself off, to catch the waves before they disperse, but Izuku easily twines his fingers with yours, pinning your hand above your head to hold you still. You're humping the air, rutting against his hardness to bring you some relief, but it's too late, it's all gone. You crumble beneath him, melting into a puddle of woe and tears as you look up at him with those pretty, doe eyes, pleading for a semblance of his mercy.

"Aw, poor baby." The mock pity in his voice is overflowing as he ignores the way your bottom lip quivers with the loss of your relief, the way your brows furrow with stunted, childish anger at his action. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he murmurs, but the devilish upturn of his smirk says otherwise, "but I told you before, didn't I?"

Once more, his hand slips down to your dripping sex, rubbing the oversensitive bundle of nerves in slow, firm figure-eights. "This is a punishment" he grunts, dipping his head to lavish his tongue over the sweet spots on your neck before he sinks his teeth into the plush skin and buries his fingers back into your tight, warm cunt. "And I don't think you've learned your lesson just yet."

[ventique18]

~ Unwilting Flower~ 🐉🌸

It's Valentine's Day. Your friends are giving each other flowers just for the heck of it, because if they're not going to celebrate it, who else would? You yourself are already committed, but real friends don't exclude anyone. So that means you're part of their celebration too.

And you could only guess what the exact thought process is going on in his head when your darling-- your Valentine Malleus Draconia's delightful smile turns into a deep scowl the moment he sees you carrying a bundle of assorted flora in your arms.

"Hmph. Wait for a moment."

He disappears without your confirmation. Why, is he jealous? You shrug and thought you'd just let him simmer down on his own-- you have nothing to feel guilty about. He knows your bonds with your friends are strictly platonic. If he feels jealous in any way, he could just join your merry band of flower giving, present something to everyone, and receive some himself.

... And then you arrive at your classroom for that hour... to a blossom of multicolored roses decorating your desk; as gaudy as a flower cake, with only a few inches of blank space left in the middle. As if the decorator only realized at the last second that you're supposed to be studying and not gardening.

You can't help but feel everyone's gaze on you throughout the entire lecture, naturally.

But that's not even the end of it. Random bursts of flower petals would shower on you when you enter a room. A student you don't know the name of would present you a bouquet of various knickknacks for seemingly no reason. (You note that they're all suspiciously wearing Diasomnia uniform.) And flowers start blooming at your feet when you accompany Grim to the field for his Spelldrive practice.

But the straw on the camel's back is when you go back home. Right there, in the dead center of your lounge, sitting pretty and sipping tea-- is the main culprit. Surrounded by what you would guess are thousands, and thousands, of roses.

Ever the pleasant look on his face, he smiles slowly at you with a clink of his teacup. "Did you like my little surprise for you?"

"Little--"

You have to remind yourself that this man has no common sense.

You refuse to sit next to him even as he discreetly pats the empty space on the couch. "Well, I appreciate it. It really made me feel the depth of your love for me--"

"The depth of my love? If you believe it so, then I must offer you more posthaste--"

"That's, that's exactly my reservation... I think you don't need to be this excessive. I mean," You gesture helplessly to the roses around you, "It'll make me sad when all of this wilts."

You see him surprised for a second. Does he finally understand? Did he get that the cleanup will be a huge pain? You live alone, and you're sure as hell Grim wouldn't be willing to help play janitor for an entire day.

"Then," he grins at you amusedly, as if you just asked if he knew how to spell his name, "If you wish to be reminded of my devotion to you every waking day, then it'll be child's play for me to ensure than not a single petal wilts for as long as you live."

No! Absolutely not!

"Hornton. I thought you'd have understood who I am at this point." You look away from him, a bit nervous to be rejecting his efforts when he looks so earnest in trying to win your approval. "You know I'd rather spend time with you. A little bit of wine and dine, maybe? Maybe watch a cheesy movie or two."

He pauses. Looks at you seriously. He seems to have caught on.

He stands up, and every blossom in the room-- every rose petal on the carpet and every vine that carefully lined the curtains, disappears with a sparkle. Devoid of the sudden fancy, only the bare homeliness of your dorm remains.

He doesn't walk to you, but he attracts your gaze anyway. "My apologies. I seemed to have focused on satisfying myself, rather than think of what would satisfy you."

You smile reassuringly. "It's alright. I know how hard you try."

It's you who finally approaches. You stop in front of him, then take his hands in yours. He returns the gesture by affectionately rubbing the tips of your fingers, and there you're reminded of how much heavier he can show love through little actions like this, compared with the pomp of public exhibitions.

You entwine your fingers together.

"But why the sudden display? Were you jealous?" You ask.

He urges you to sit down with him. "Jealous?"

"That our friends gave me flowers."

Our friends. The corners of his lips quirks up at that; in his eyes, it's the little considerate messages that you weave in your words that makes you stand out from everyone else.

"No. In fact I'm delighted that they appreciate you. It's just..."

"Just..?"

"... That I saw Schoenheit behind you, carrying a much larger bouquet than you were. I thought he did not deserve to be the most appreciated person in this place."

"... And so you... tried to one-up him by doing all that for me?"

He nods.

And you laugh.

"What's so amusing?"

He really doesn't realize how funny he is sometimes. You cover a hand to your mouth to try and slow down the giggles. "You're so unpredictable. I just can't correctly guess what goes on in your head."

"It's you who's unpredictable."

"Then that's good, isn't it? We have an eternity to try and decipher what each other's thinking." Your gaze roams; settling on his tea gone cold, "Then at the end of the world... we can reveal our answers and decide who got each other most accurately."

The crinkles on his brows slowly smoothen when he takes in your words. His hands unconsciously trail to the inside of his coat; toying with something as he wonders idly.

"... I have something for you." He says solemnly.

You stop giggling, but the smile remains on your face. "Don't tell me it's another Valentine's token. Maybe chocolate?"

He grins, but doesn't answer you. Instead, his hands wander to your jacket; fingers expertly pinning something on the lapel. Just above your left breast.

"A gift for you, but a promise to myself as well."

It's a brooch. Perhaps a bit more simple in design-- a tasteful black with a muted sheen of alexandrite-- definitely not themed around the gaudy red of Valentine's, but very distinctively him.

"May I always be the one closest to your heart, and though our bodies may decay before the end of time..."

You press his hands closer to your chest; determined not to let go as you finish his promise for him. For yourself.

"May this unwilting flower bear witness to the many promises we will make, and how we stayed true to all of them."

[miniwheat77]

V-Day. (141 x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, p in v sex, oral sex (m!receiving), protected sex, gang bang, NO MINORS!

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LOVES! (and Birthday if you’re a v-day baby🥺) If I could get every single one of you a valentine I would 🫶🥰

The task force sees how upset you are on holidays.

You’ve got no family and no other friends outside of the task force so around the holidays you tend to get a little reclusive. Sometimes they’ll try to do nice things for you but most of the time they don’t have the opportunity to. When you’re out on a base in the middle of a warzone, ordering things in and going to stores isn’t exactly ideal.

They notice of all of the holidays, Christmas and Valentines Day seem to be the hardest ones of all for you.

They’ve managed to help raise your spirits on Christmas by brining in a fake little tree and making ornaments out of plain lined paper and dental floss. They even found a couple markers or pens around base so you could color them. At least it gave you something to do as a task force but you were out of luck on Valentine’s Day.

None of the men were married or in a relationship and truth be told, Valentine’s Day wasn’t as important to them. But it was to you and they knew it.

The only thing Captain Price could do, was get everyone off duty for the day.

The four of them had crossed paths a couple of times. Working out, doing paperwork, cleaning up their own spaces. That was it. But they noticed none of them seen you.

“Poor things probably just sitting in her room like usual.” They mumble.

After another hour or so, you reappear out of nowhere while they’re sitting in the mess hall, making small talk.

“Ah, finally out to join us?”

“Yeah, I made you something.” You smile.

“What?”

“Yeah, I saved it for this year since we had nothing last year..” you mumble.

You’d made little handmade cards each specialized for them and attached a candy to it.

“Well now I feel bad because we didn’t get you anything dove..” Captain Price mumbles. “That’s not what this is about. Holidays are about giving. Anyways, I have to go finish cleaning up my room before I forget. Happy Valentines Day!” You smile, turning around and making your way back to your room.

Captain Price sighs.

None of them have any idea what to do. They have nothing on base that they can give you.

“You know.. I have an idea.” Johnny mumbles.

“Might be a bit crazy but.. it just might make her feel better.” He smiles nervously.

They make a plan, each of them needed to go find something and bring it back to the table to present with for the plan.

Gaz hurried outside, he would feel bad for messing up the rose bush outside because he knows how much you adore it (since it IS the only one around) but you’d just have to forgive him later. They’re a magenta color, which he thinks you’ll like. He makes sure to go for the roses that aren’t as full, on the back and on the bottom of the bush. He uses his pocket knife to cut the heads off, keeping them in tact. It still looks pretty when he’s done.

Johnny goes around base searching for those unscented tea lights laying around for when the power is out. He manages to find an entire bag of them in a back office. Scoring when he finds a random striker too.

Captain Price heads for his own office where he knows he’s got paper, using a few pieces to thicken it up and a stapler to make a makeshift card. He’s even got one single piece of red paper, cutting tiny hearts out of it and taping them onto the white card. His time as a Captain and all of the paperwork he’s had to do has really helped his cursive. Making sure to give the others the opportunity to add something they’d like before signing it from all of them.

Ghost tore his entire room apart looking for a photo to put into the card. He knew he had it lying around and it took him a good white to find it buried inside of a drawer, but he does find it. It’s a photo of the entire task force. The five of you standing all together just before a mission, in full gear. It’s something he’s cherished but he has a copy at home.

“Y/N, page back.” Captain Price calls.

“Copy sir.”

“Keep getting an alert from the southeast gate, you mind checking it out with me?”

“Not at all sir.”

“Great, I’ll meet you out there.” He calls back. When you meet him at the door, their plan goes into effect. The other 3 men hustle to get everything in to place as quickly as possible. You’d just finished cleaning your room so it was perfect timing really. You don’t get fully dressed to go which he understands, but he finds it cute what you’re wearing anyways.

“Captain, page back.” Gaz mumbles. He’s out of breath. “Copy.”

“Where at?”

“Heading in now.”

You don’t find it strange, they call back all of the time.

When you turn the corner, you freeze. You see the candlelight first. “What is that?” You ask. You’re curious, approaching it. Captain nearly laughs, noticing your hand on your sidearm at first. The military taught strange reactions. You relax when you see the rose petals. The other 3 stand just outside your door. “What is all of this?”

“It’s a thank you, for being such a huge part of this task force. There’s more inside, go on.” Captain Price smiles. “It’s more than you deserve, but it’s all we got for now.”

You move closer, opening up your door. That’s when you see the little card sitting on your bed. You smile.

You pick it up, opening it up and reading the note that each of them had left you. You look at the small picture last, seeing it’s them.

“This is really sweet, you didn’t have to do all of this.” You smile, turning back at them.

“We’ve got another thing, something important. Sit down.” Soap mumbles, pushing you back slightly onto your bed. “Close your eyes.”

You look up at him skeptically but do it anyways. Your hands sit in your lap. He touches your chin with his fingertips, tilting your head up slightly. He gives it another second before pressing his lips to yours.

You jump back, stunned. “Woah- what are-“ he smiles, hushing you.

“Nothing to be afraid of lass.” He pushes your hair out of your face. “Valentine’s Day is where you show those you love how much you care about them. That's what we're going to do. Just relax.”

You swallow hard, looking around at each of them around the room, all eyes are you. "No need to be nervous, just close your eyes."

You do it, trying your best to stay relaxed as he kisses you again. He grasps the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You raise your arms up to make it easier for him. Once your shirt is off, everyone in the room starts to get undressed. You can't see it, but you can hear the fabric and bodies movies, belts unbuckling and hitting the floor.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

You open your eyes, seeing that they're all shirtless, nothing but hairy, fit bodies around you. Your heart starts to race in your chest. This was a lot. What exactly did they plan to do?

Captain Price chuckles, now having taken Johnny's place in front of you. He forces your chin up to look at him. "If you're nervous and don't want to do this, you don't have to." He smiles. "You always have a choice, remember that."

You nod your head, taking in a deep breath. "I'm okay. Just nervous." You look up at him, he helps you to stand up, sliding your pants down your legs for you. Helping you step out of them by taking your hand to steady you.

What a gentleman.

"Go ahead and get on the bed darling."

The candles are illuminating the room, the light is still on but it's already dim. You move up the bed, still making an attempt to cover yourself.

Captain Price moves himself between your legs, he'd taken his boxers off, same as everyone else. You see him tear something open with his teeth, surprised when you realize it's a condom. You wonder where on earth he'd gotten it.

Now the four massive men stood completely naked in front of you and this wasn't a joke. This was really going to happen.

He takes your gaze away from everyone else by drawing his fingertips up your exposed opening, gathering wetness on his fingers and gliding up over your clit, the gasp gathers everyone's attention. They were nervous too, just far better at hiding it.

They're all looking at you, seeing how your eyebrows move into each other, mouth parting in pleasure as he touches you. He rubs gentle circles over you, the more aroused you are the more wet you'll be. You're going to need it to be able to take all four of them. He pushes a finger into you, hearing you gasp at the intrusion, moving a hand to grip his wrist as he starts to finger you. His fingers are long. He moves them through you, curling them slightly with eat thrust, searching for that spot inside of you. The others watch as he searches for it.

When he finds it, you tilt your head back with a moan, resting your head on the pillow. The mewl that leaves your lips is promising, each of them now know exactly what to do to please you.

He draws his fingers back, smiling when he realizes how fast your heart is beating. Hopefully he didn't get you too close. You still had a long ways to go.

He adjust you, tilting you just slightly to the side, raising your hip up just slightly. That special place inside of you was about to be battered by the four men. Because not only are they attempted, but obsessed with pleasing you.

He grips his cock, the first you'll feel tonight. He glides the tip over your opening to gather your arousal on him before he sinks inside of you. You gasp when he fills you. Cock pressing right up against that spot, he could feel your heart beating from your touch alone. That knot was already beginning to form in your belly.

You feel hands on you and it draws you back down to earth. Ghost is at your side, running his fingertips over the skin on your right arm to soothe you. Johnny moves to the other side, doing the same to your left.

You realize that Gaz is at the head of your bed, nearly standing over you.

He lowers himself, helping to brush your hair out of your face. "You're doing so good for us." He breathes. You clench your eyes closed, felling your Captain bury himself into you once more. The two to your left and right gasp at the same time, feeling your hands reaching for them. The feel of your touch on their cocks is enough to draw a moan from each of them.

Kyle takes a deep breath when you reopen your eyes, looking up at him. He stands up, almost knowing what it is that you want.

You take his cock into your mouth, tonguing the tip at first. You tease him for a minute before taking him further down. He can see your throat bulge because of his intrusion and suddenly his orgasm isn't too far off.

John keeps a steady pace, he knows you'll take a lot more than just him tonight and he doesn't want to be too rough with you. You feel good wrapped around him, tight. The eagerness he had felt before already had him on edge. He knew he wouldn't last long. Which was in your favor considering. He just wanted to draw at least one orgasm out of you.

He rocks his hips into you, perfect pace. Right into that spot.

He draws circles into your clit until you're right at the edge of pure bliss, toppling over the edge. You draw away from Kyle when you cum, crying out. You attempt to close your legs but he keeps them open, keeping his slow pace and riding your high out. Groaning out when he reaches his own. He closes his eyes, riding it out with another couple thrusts.

When he reopens them he pulls out of you, seeing your orgasm at the base of his cock. He can only wonder how good you'd feel raw.

He draws himself away, moving to your chair in the corner of the room, lighting a cigar as Simon takes his place. You swallow hard, looking down at him. He rolls a condom over the tip of his cock, same as your Captain had. "You alright to keep going?" He looks up at you. You nod.

You don't want to let your Lieutenant down. He does the same to you. Slight tilting your hips, moving you in another way. You can only imagine it's to reach that spot inside.

They were so attentive.

He thrusts into you, you tilt your head back with a sigh. He's slightly more rough than Captain Price but you can easily tell they're being gentle. You can only imagine how rough they could be if they really wanted.

You take Kyle back into your mouth, moving your hand up the shaft of Johnny's cock. Keeping them both stimulated. It's hard to focus with Simon thrusting into you, but you do it.

He pushes your legs up slightly, reaching even deeper. You moan around Kyle, hearing him groan at the vibrations from you. He knew once he felt your walls around him that he wasn't going to last long.

Your right hand is free now, you use it to draw circles into your own clit which surprises them. Considering that you had just cum. You're gentle with it.

Simon keeps a steady pace just as his Captain had. Working himself into his own orgasm but focusing on you too. You weren't just any girl to them. You were important and they weren't here to use you.

You draw away from Kyle and he moves to your side again, moving his face to be level with yours. "Why don't you take a look at what he's doing hm?"

You swallow hard, raising yourself up onto your elbows. Johnny moves to your other side, lips by your other ear.

"He's stretching you so much. You're taking a lot. More than we thought you could." Kyle smiles. He hears you take in a sharp breath at a particularly hard thrust from Simon. He was getting sloppy with it. Seeing the lost look in your eyes is drawing him close.

"Your body is taking us so well darling. We knew you would."

You look up, eyes snapping to Ghosts and he gets chills down his spine at the look you're giving him.

"Happy Valentines Day, Y/N." It leaves Simon's lips and you can barely see his mouth move behind his mask. He doesn't expect you to cum.

You moan out, closing your eyes as you reach another orgasm, this one more intense than the first. Your clit throbs as you draw your hand away from it, nearly crying at the overstimulation. "Oh fuck!" Simon gasps, feelling you tense around him, pulsing with each beat of your heart.

He clutches your thigh harder than he intends when he finishes, eyes rolling back into his head when fills the condom. You gasp, feeling the warmth of it. How the hell were you going to do this another two times? You don't know where he's off to when he pulls away.

"M'kinda close already from your mouth darling, don't laugh when I don't last." Kyle jokes. You give him a lazy smile. You didn't see it, but he's got a condom on. You flinch when he slides into you. "You alright?" He asks, looking up at you. You nod your head. "If it's too much, we'll stop."

You smile at him. "I'm alright Kyle. Thank you." You breathe. Kyle had length on the rest of them, reaching parts of you untouched. You were already sensitive before, but knew you'd be pushing your body to the limits with him. You can't cum four times, surprised by the fact that they've even gotten two so close together. Your eyes water as he starts in, thrusting into you. He can't be as rough because he doesn't want to hurt you.

You've already taken so much. Soap cups your breasts, you tilt back to take him into your mouth. You surprise him.

He gasps when you take him down, sucking at the tip of his cock before taking him further down "Your lips look so pretty wrapped around me." He breathes, pinching one of your nipples between his fingers, hearing you gasp. You glide your hand up to entwine your fingers with Johnny's and he doesn't draw back, letting you clutch onto him.

You can tell how close Kyle is by how he starts to shake. His hands shake as he rests them on your thighs. His pants are uneven.

His face contorts in pleasure, teeth gritted and bared as he finishes deep into the condom, this time you can feel the force of his orgasm against your walls. You gasp out at the feeling.

You draw away from Johnny and he's quick to take Kyle's place. You couldn't take much more and he knew it. That's why he's going last.

Johnny is the best at being affectionate. At making love.

He slides the condom down around himself. Like the others had.

He pushes you up further on the bed, entering you much slower than the others, even going as far to give you a moment to adjust to him before he moves. You look up at him, almost as if giving him the approval to move. He draws back and thrusts into you, seeing you flinch slightly. He was really deep and you were overstimulated already.

"You think you can give me one more darling?" He smiles. You shake your head. "I don't know Johnny. It's a lot." You pant. Your eyes are already watery but he keeps his pace. "I think you can, lass. You've done so well for me. Done so good." He breathes. "One more doll. Just one. Focus on me."

He lowers himself to hover over you. Using his body weight on top of you to keep you grounded. "Johnny?"

"Hm?"

"Will you kiss me again?"

He doesn't respond, just presses his lips to yours. He's surprisingly a really good kisser, lips moving with yours.

You don't know why you're reacting to him like you are but just his kiss alone has that knot forming once more. You know this one may even hurt. He draws away, brushing your hair out of your face. "You feel so fucking good around me. You are so tight." He breathes. "You're doing so good darling, got me so close already." He bites his lip, trying to contain his moans.

He was getting close but he wants one more from you. Just one more.

He grasps your hand, bringing it up to your clit. "I can't Johnny, too much."

"Try for me doll. Just once."

You flinch when you touch your own clit. Thighs shivering as you ghost over it with your fingertips. You're so close.

The others hear your cry from just outside the door, cheeks turning pink at just the sound of you.

Johnny groans when you pulse around him, tears stream from you eyes and he finishes just in time as you push him away. It was nearly too much.

He finishes with a grunt, letting his high take over him.

When he comes down from it, he moves himself from on top of you.

You're panting out, tears still streaming from your eyes as you settle down. You've taken a lot tonight and they know it. But they just wanted to show you what you meant to them.

"I'll help you get cleaned up. give me a sec." He breathes, moving to get dressed and draping a blanket over you so that he could carry you to the showers. He knows once you're clean you'll fall asleep quick. While you're gone, the others help clean up the mess of rose petals and candles, changing your sheets for you as well.

Best Valentines Day ever.

[haechanhues]

chapter thirty six : melting

*written*

word count : 1k

warnings : implications of period kink. this couple being continuously confusing and frustrating.

He’s at your door again, and the hallway sees the same image it always sees.

You and him, kissing in your doorway. Tongues brushing against each other’s. Sounds of pleasure at every corner, heard from the kitchen and out the door. 

“I missed you,” You admit, hushed confession against his lips. 

He pulls away, a strict expression settled in his eyebrows, “Did you fuck him?” 

“I didn’t fuck Mark-” You rolled your eyes, only for Haechan’s hands to tighten around your forearms. 

“Not him,” He shook his head, “That guy you posted days ago.” 

“I didn’t,” You say, “I couldn’t. You were in my head.” 

He kisses you again, “You’re so fucked up when it comes to honesty.” 

Haechan backs you up into the room, kissing you until you can’t breathe. Loving the way you struggle with the bare minimum, a chance at a little revenge. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re only honest when it benefits you,” He says again, gruff as he steals oxygen from your lungs and pushing you backwards onto the bed. He lifts your leg over his waist, and you exhale a sharp take of breath, too sensitive, “You’re so sensitive today.” 

And you are. 

His hands tickle at the insides of your thighs, loving the way you jerk in his hold and grit your teeth in a poor attempt to hide it. 

Your nipples, the exact same. Even lifting your shirt gets an intense reaction that has Haechan’s mouth watering. 

But it’s when you feel a wash of dread and that feeling in your underwear, sticky and with an insurgence of your monthly. There’s a part of you that hopes you’re wrong, but even that part knows that the rush of whatever is in your underwear right now is not arousal. 

It’s your period. 

“What’s wrong?” Haechan pauses, unable to withhold his concern as he regards your stiff posture. 

You sit up, the horny mess you were before no longer as you paw awkwardly at anything and everything, scooting to the end of the bed. Haechan has no choice but to follow after you relentlessly, almost desperately. 

A different sort of dread in his assumptions. 

“Y/N..?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Y/N!” 

You look up at him, muttering, “I’ve got my period.” 

He lets out a sigh, scratching above his eyebrow as he acknowledges you barely, eyes scanning your body. But he doesn’t leave. Or make comments. He just sits there. 

“What do you need?” He says, surprising you completely. 

“You’re not leaving?” You snort. 

And he’s just too tired of feeling offended lately, so he pretends he didn’t hear it, pretends he doesn’t give a shit about it, “Why would I?” 

You cast him a look that’s half-hearted, the fight left it’s mark on you and you’re still reeling. You don’t want to go back to that. 

“So what do you need?” Haechan enunciates, straightening his clothes and you don’t know whether the period is making you a lust filled demon because the action tempts you to have your way with him and paint his whole lower body red. 

“Pads, maybe some tampons.” 

“You send me a photo of the brand you like and I’ll have a look.” 

“I could Facetime you?’ 

“Or, you could send a photo and I’ll take care of it,” He’s stern and assertive. But you still feel like you’re being swept off your feet. 

“You don’t need to do that,” You refute him, shaking your head in a lame attem[pt to appease the frustration still lined in his limbs. 

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” Haechan scoffs, “I’d be an asshole if I didn’t.” 

So with nervous penmanship, you handwrite your list on a not-so-sticky note, neatly bullet pointed. You can feel his stare on your body and it feels as if his judgement emits from his chest onto your back in a big angry comic chat box. 

Overnight pads. 

Medium sized pads. 

Mini tampons. 

He raised an eyebrow when you hesitated to put something else but ultimately deciding not to. He raises from his perch on the bed, pulling on his jacket and pants before making his way out the door with a dark expression. 

It’s a waiting game for you. 

You tidy up your room and bed while he’s gone. Coming up with dumb questions to ask him. When the door opens again, you straighten your stiff back, watching as he comes through the doorway. 

He’s too handsome. Even while his face looks angry, you’re convinced that his beautiful bronze skin cannot suit anyone better than they do him. His dark clothes framing his body perfectly. He’s unreal and you want to cover the awkward silence with kisses. 

He’s carrying a plastic bag, tipping the pads and tampons out before he brings out the chocolate you desperately wanted to write down and a juice to go with it. 

Wordlessly, he hands you the food before he brings out his own lolly he brought to distract himself. 

“This guy from ages ago,” You open your mouth and you pause, the sudden intrusion of thought not at all the questions you practiced, “He told me I wasn’t ready.” 

“Ready?” 

“When we were having sex,” You admitted, “He said I wasn’t ready because he was hitting all the spots he should have to make me come and he just couldn’t get me to come.” 

“Okay?” 

“You’re the only one that has purposely made me come and who I enjoyed myself with,” You add, observing the confusion on his face, “So I’m attached to you.” 

He nods, “So am I.” 

“But I don’t get why you’re attached to me,” You splutter, “You didn’t like me at first - yeah, you say you didn’t hate me but I know you didn’t like me. And yeah there’s Mark and the rest of the boys, but how the fuck did you get attached?” 

Haechan shrugs, a thinly veil of protection, “I just did. No back stories, I just liked what i saw.” 

“Liked?” 

“You know damn well that it’s ‘liked’, but it’s also ‘like’. I like what I see, I’m also really fucking pissed at you. ” Haechan confesses, “I don’t know what that means.” 

You sniff, overtaken by emotion, and you imagine placing your palm on his cheek, watching the way his eyes clear and stare back at you. Melting into each other. 

But he leaves instead. 

And you don’t like it.

AND NOW, US

your best friend's best friend offers his services as you keep complaining about your lack of… sexual gratification.

chapter thirty six : melting

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[screamingcrows]

Notes: Anaxagoras drabble pre-release because I simply can't resist a blasphemous scholar. Steal this and you're getting every airborne pathogen I know. Tags: Anaxagoras x reader, implied friends to .... well, sfw, 800 words Minors DNI

The forces governing all phenomena must operate based on universal fact. An all-encompassing set of 'laws' when explained through our language. But how do we even begin to comprehend what we cannot perceive, and by what means do we discover the blind spots?

Anaxagoras had always been fascinated by that which he could not explain, a trait coveted by adults when you were both children. The pace with which his knowledge expanded had been nearly frightening, swallowing it up as though a vortex existed in his midst.

"Truth," he continued, one hand covering an eye as he peered into the starlit night, "is what we make of it, what each of us can perceive and prophecy the bridge between what we know and what we see."

A soft hum left your lips, merely signaling that your attention was still on him. The two of you had been friends for far longer than a decade, so used to the ideas spurred on by his now scorned curiosity that nothing he said could rattle you. Not even the idea of prophecies being lies.

"But there must be something, somewhere, that perceives all, possibly even orchestrating it."

Your hand left the cold rock that you were both resting atop, reaching towards the stars alongside his. Blots of ink and faint red lines from where paper had cut his skin stained the delicate hands that had wiped countless tears from your cheeks.

His monologue halted for a moment when your fingers laced with his, guiding his hand back down to place a kiss in his palm. The content sigh he let out made you smile, knowing you'd once more halted his detachment from the ground. If not for the fragility of the physical body, surely his spirit would've long since taken a seat among the stars.

"I propose the existence of a 'mind' governing and ordering everything. If all is made from the same base components, it must be given shape to create all that we see," his voice had softened to an almost melancholic tone, "I will not pretend to know the laws that govern all, but this must be part of the truth as I view it. I've termed it 'Nous', the cosmic mind ordering homogenous chaos into this-"

A white flower was placed in your hand, the rarity of the gesture translating to something foreboding as you completed his sentence, "orderly chaos, but chaos nonetheless."

Worse still was the feeling when he moved your hand to rest atop his heartbeat. "I'm almost led to believe you pay attention to my words." Even with the lightness of his words, nothing in their meaning lessened the weight settling on your soul.

Still, it would be cruel to let it show, instead responding in a way he knew, nudging his shoulder gently. "I always do."

Satisfied, Anaxagoras saw fit to continue, "This Nous, of course, implies the existence of not only life beyond what we know, but also of forces mightier than our Titans."

"Have you heard what they're calling you?"

He turned his head, bright eyes piercing both the darkness and your heart, "A fool? I-"

"Some of them take it further than that, calling you a blasphemer," truly, you had no desire to oppose the man beside you, the regret no doubt seeping into your words, "maybe exercising some restraint in public would do you good?"

It was unreasonable for him to cup your cheek at a time like this, your throat tightening in anticipation of the gentle press of lips against your own.

"Only those with something to hide are angered by questions," his words were almost lost to the ringing in your ears, "the truth I've suggested challenges the validity of their prophesies, should it not then be their honor to disprove me instead of lashing out like cornered beasts?"

You let him guide you closer by the back of your neck, foreheads touching when the words you'd been dreaded were spoken into existence. "I'm leaving."

"I know," your voice trembled far more than you would've liked, his attempts at gently rubbing your skin all but soothing this time. You'd always known this day would come, his bearing in itself enough to know that his path would be a lonely one.

"I'll present my ideas at the Grove of Epiphany, blind faith in the Chrysos Heirs and a prophecy alone cannot be the only way forward. I will force their eyes closed if I must to let them glimpse reality beyond what they see."

You inhaled his scent, fresh and crisp like a cold morning in the sun, determined to commit it to memory, so engrossed that you barely heard the whispered apology and a confession better lost to the breeze.

[antoncore]

a thousand poems | l.at

word count: 1k

contains: (almost) tooth-rotting fluff, reader is a bit of a valentines hater, university au, literature student!anton

synopsis: you never saw the point in valentines, dreading it every year. that was until anton, a sweet literature student came along and changed your perspective…

anton lee was genuinely one of the sweetest boys you’d ever met if not the sweetest. he was a literature student that you started talking to on one of your regular library trips. the two of you had gotten so close that he’d shown you his “secret spot” — an empty hallway hidden in the corner of the top floor of the building. he offered a sense of calm between all your stressful deadlines and overwhelming classes. whenever you’d have your hangouts, he’d either have a snack that you mentioned you liked, a song to recommend you, a book that reminded him of things you’d talked about or a new poem he’d scribbled down before leaving for classes that morning.

it was now a few days before valentines and it was all that consumed your campus life — heart decorations in the student union, posters for speed dating events plastered on every noticeboard you laid your eyes upon and an overwhelming amount of emails from various societies advertising themed events. you hadn’t given much thought to the day, being too preoccupied with upcoming deadlines. you walked up the stairs, your bag heavy with the books you needed for one of your upcoming assignments.

as you turned the corner, you saw anton already waiting, cross-legged on the floor with an open book on his lap. his glasses had slid slightly down his nose, and he tapped his pen against the page, deep in thought about what to annotate it with next. “you’re here,” he teased, looking up to smile at you. his smile was soft and warm, making your heart race and settle all at once — something that nobody else had been able to do. “of course,” you replied, dropping your bag beside him with a sigh. “although i had to battle my way through a sea of valentines decorations to get here.” he laughed at your dramatic tone, shaking his head as he put his pen down.

“looks like i’ll be your escape,” he said with a grin, making space for you to sit. “i can tell you need a break.” you flopped down beside him, your exhaustion from the day’s classes suddenly feeling a bit lighter. anton’s smile softened as he spoke gently, “come on, let me read something to distract you.” “you always know exactly how to comfort me,” you said, your voice quieter than usual. he started to read from the book in his lap, his voice gentler than ever. you recognised the words from one of his favourite books, a romance novel he’d spoken about often. you rested your head on his broad shoulder as you continued to listen to him read.

the way he read every word felt intentional, like they held a deeper meaning that only he could understand. anton paused to look at you and smiled softly, only for your eyes to unintentionally meet his for a brief moment. if either of you were unsure of your feelings before, that brief moment made everything clear. there was a tenderness in the way he acted now and it spoke volumes, unspoken yet understood.

“i-i umm… actually wanted to read something else to you. i know you’re tired of everything to do with valentine’s but… i’ve been working on a poem for a while now, and… i wanted your opinion,” anton admitted, trying his best to avoid eye contact. “a poem?” you repeated, your head tilting to look at him. he nodded, fiddling with the corner of the page. “yeah, it’s… nothing special, honestly,” he whispered, but the way his fingers trembled slightly as he unfolded the piece of paper told you otherwise. you waited patiently, just like he always had for you.

finally, he cleared his throat and began reading the poem, his voice a little shaky at first. as his voice grew steadier at each line, the words sank deeper into your heart, realising every word resonated with the connection you’d come to share. you could feel the warmheartedness behind them, the vulnerability in how he expressed what was so often left unsaid. before you knew it, he had finished the poem and looked up, his cheeks flushed, unsure as to how you’d respond. you stayed silent, reflecting on what he’d said, unsure whether you could find the words to express how you felt. you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

“anton… that was so… beautiful,” you breathed out, the weight of the words still sinking in, your cheeks just as flushed as his. “it was perfect.” his lips parted slightly, as if he were about to say something but instead he gently traced the edge of the paper with his fingers, his eyes searching yours. “you really think so?” he questioned, his confidence lacking in the moment. “i was so nervous to read that to you.” you smiled reassuringly as you studied his face fondly. “why? you know i love everything that you share with me.” “because this was different, y/n,” he admitted, lifting his head up fully. “this was… for you.”

the air between you shifted as you swallowed, your fingers slightly shaky. “anton…” he hesitated for a second before reaching for your hand, his touch warm and grounding. “i meant every word,” he confessed, his thumb softly brushing your knuckles. “every single one.” your breath caught in your throat. the touch of his gentle hands, his sound of his calm voice along with the way he was looking at you — like you were something precious, irreplaceable — was almost overwhelming.

you were speechless and it was impossible to deny that everything inside you pulled you towards him, as if you were connected. slowly, you leaned in, closing the space between the two of you. anton’s breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly before they fluttered shut. your lips met in a soft kiss, one filled with all the words you couldn’t say right now. his hand moved to cup your cheek, his touch featherlight, as if he were afraid this moment would end too soon. the way you melted into each other felt natural, as if this was always meant to happen. his fingers held you for just a second longer before you both pulled away breathless, his glasses slightly askew and his cheeks even more flushed than before, matching your own.

“so y/n… can i—” he paused, his eyes asking for your reassurance. “can i be your valentine?” his question hung in the air, soft yet filled with so much meaning. you smiled, heart fluttering at the sincerity in his eyes. you cupped his face gently, bringing him closer as you whispered, “of course.” anton’s eyes brightened and before you knew it, he was kissing you again, more tenderly than before.

“i’d write a thousand poems just to show you how much you mean to me.”

cee’s taglist ☾⋆⁺ : @sshwaa @seokiebin @gacktsa @nlovesbjh @atzhrts @yuzuksi

[dulcescorderitas]

parings: dean winchester x reader

song: espresso by sabrina carpenter

warnings: 18+, smut

now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh

there's no goddamn way he’s sleeping. you know it because the phone’s already buzzing on the nightstand, screen lighting up with his name—dean. you sigh, knowing exactly what he wants, and when you pick up, his voice is low, rough, dripping with need. he never lasts more than a few days without this, without you. distance frays him at the edges, makes him restless.

is it that sweet? i guess so

"baby," he breathes, already wrecked. "you sleepin’?"

you chuckle, voice thick with exhaustion. "was about to."

"nah, you weren’t. you knew i was gonna call." his voice is a slow drag of heat, the same way his hands feel on your skin when he’s finally home, the same way his mouth lingers when he’s memorizing you all over again.

say you can't sleep, baby, i know

his voice is like warm whiskey over ice, like gravel under the tires of his impala, steady and rough. "can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you," he mutters, a groan slipping out like he’s already palming himself through his jeans. "wish i was home right now. wish i was fuckin’ buried in you."

that's that me espresso

heat blooms in your stomach at the way his voice tightens, the way he barely holds it together. "yeah?" you tease, already shifting under the sheets, already picturing his broad hands on your thighs, his mouth dragging over your skin. "tell me what you'd do."

move it up, down, left, right, oh

he lets out a shaky exhale, breath already ragged. "you know what i’d do. mouth on your neck, hands all over you—fuck, i’d take my time. make you feel so goddamn good." his voice drops lower, strained, as you hear the slick sound of him stroking himself, slow and teasing, like he’s savoring the ache. "wish I had my hands on you right now. wanna feel your tits, wanna taste every inch of you. bet you’re warm, soft—fuck, bet you’d feel so perfect wrapped around me."

he groans, deep and needy, and you swear you can hear his head tilting back against the pillow, his jaw tightening. "goddamn it, sweetheart. tell me you need it just as bad."

switch it up like nintendo

he’s always like this when he’s away too long—needy, relentless, like the distance between you is something he physically can’t stand. you’d laugh if it wasn’t so hot, if you didn’t know how wrecked he’d be when he finally got home.

say you can't sleep, baby, i know

his breath stutters through the line, and you can picture it perfectly—his head tilted back against some shitty motel pillow, body tense, fist wrapped tight around himself. "baby—shit—I’m close."

that's that me espresso

"good," you whisper, biting your lip. "wanna hear you fall apart for me."

too bad your ex don't do it for ya

when he finally gets home, it’s chaos. bags hit the floor, keys are forgotten, and his hands are on you before the door even shuts. he smells like road dust and leather, like gunpowder and whiskey, and it’s intoxicating.

walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya

you don’t even make it to the bedroom. dean’s got you pressed against the wall, mouth hot and demanding against yours, hands greedy and impatient. "been too fuckin’ long," he growls, voice thick with need. "gonna make up for every damn second."

soft skin and i perfumed it for ya

his fingers dig into your hips as he grinds against you, all heat and desperation. the solid wall against your back does nothing to cool the fire spreading through your veins as his mouth moves hot and open over your throat, teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp. his hands roam greedily, gripping, kneading, as if memorizing every inch of your body by touch alone.

"missed you so goddamn much," he mutters, voice barely holding steady. one hand slides between your thighs, pressing against your core through thin fabric, feeling the heat and wetness waiting for him. "need you. need all of you." his hips roll forward, grinding the hard length of him against you, and it's dizzying, the way he devours you, like he’s been starving for this, for you.

(yes) i know i mountain dew it for ya

you laugh, breathless, clinging to his shoulders. "then take me, winchester."

(yes) that morning coffee, brewed it for ya

the next few weeks, he hardly lets you out of his sight. anytime you move, he’s there—hands on your waist, mouth on your neck, pressing you into the mattress, the couch, the damn kitchen counter. he’s insatiable, but so are you, and every time he touches you, it’s like setting gasoline on fire.

(yes) one touch and i brand-newed it for ya

you tease him about it once, about how insatiable he is. he just grins, presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. "ain’t my fault," he murmurs, lazy and content. "you’re my goddamn addiction." and the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing keeping him together, you know it’s true.

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