#this ended up so much longer than it was meant to

[plutotheplum]

His Eyes All Over Me

sylus x fem!reader

summary: ever since experiencing sylus' frenzy, you find yourself feeling strange. it all comes to a head after your movie date.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blow job, p in v, knotting, scent kink, praise kink, breeding kink, aftercare, brief switch!sylus

w/c: 6.1k

a/n: guys idk what happened all of a sudden i was possessed and the breeding kink just appeared <3

also on ao3!

I know exactly what it means, which is why I’m accepting this.

Sylus’ cryptic words leave you confused as the movie ends. It wasn’t even meant to mean anything in particular, although perhaps that was just you convincing yourself that you were in total control of this situation. You were giving the feather to him as a kind gesture, nothing more. 

… Fuck, had he seen it as more? 

A dull throb spreads out from across your temples, your fingers itching to pull out your phone and simply search up whatever it is he meant.

Why did feelings have to be so complicated? 

You bite back a groan, slumping back in the car seat, an irritated look passing over your face.

“Something wrong?” Sylus’ smooth voice cuts through the silence, his eyes glancing towards you as he drives.

“No,” you manage out, trying to stop your voice from dipping into a grumble. You sneak a glance at his face, only to find your gaze dipping to observe the way his long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearms flexing with every move after he’d rolled up his jacket sleeves.

Ever since you’d managed to stop him from descending into a Praedator’s Frenzy, you’d found yourself suffering from a strange affliction. Yes, you had been terrified when you were trapped in that large birdcage with him, panic racing through your body as you tried to stop his sanity from unravelling any further and yet… you’d been embarrassingly aroused.

The way his teeth had sunk into your earlobe, his fangs scraping and vicious against the delicate skin of your neck. You had liked it in some sick sense. The heat that pooled between your thighs was because of Sylus, his feral nature and tight grip on your hips had made your mind swirl, his low, rasping voice, the slight rut of his hips into your ass- 

You needed a cold shower. One with actual ice, preferably.

The car rumbles to a stop, and you get out agitatedly, cursing under your breath when you realize Sylus was following you in, up to your apartment. It isn’t hard for you to notice that Sylus has taken note of your change in behavior, his hands shoving into his pockets as he stares at you.

“Something is wrong,” Sylus muses, tilting his head in a searching manner. “What? You didn’t enjoy the movie?”

“It was fine,” you reply shortly, playing with your fingers. “I think I’m coming down with something.” A blatant lie to a man who probably knew you better than you knew yourself. You clear your throat, coughing a little exaggeratedly. “A cold.”

“A cold,” he echoes, dipping his head to stare down at you scrutinizingly. You yelp when he grabs at your wrist, his fingers pressing against your pulse point. Sylus’ eyes darken, his playful expression fading as his lips thin, his voice a low hiss. “Liar.”

“That’s-” you grumble, pulling your wrist free from his grasp, “that’s unfair.”

He stares down at you for a moment longer, his eyes searching. You squirm under his gaze, heart fluttering a little when he cocks his head to the side before straightening up.

“If you didn’t enjoy my company, you should’ve just said so,” Sylus drawls, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath as you step out the elevator. “I wasn’t lying because I didn’t enjoy your company.”

Your current predicament was actually because of the contrary; you were finding that you were enjoying his company a little too much. You kick your shoes off when you get inside, hearing the soft lock of the door as Sylus closes it behind him. 

When he stares at you blankly, you shoot him an unimpressed look, gesturing towards your couch. “Make yourself at home, Sylus.”

“I don’t remember my former roommate being so… cruel,” he sighs, sounding aggrieved. “Especially after rewarding me with such a heartfelt gift.” Sylus grins devilishly, his lips curving upwards, eyes glinting with amusement. 

You flush, cheeks feeling hot with embarrassment.

“Whatever you think it means,” you snap, glaring at him in an attempt to hide your own flusteredness, “it doesn’t mean that. I was being nice, okay? Because I am a nice person!”

“Right,” Sylus laughs lowly. It’s a derisive sound, mocking and aggravating enough to have you bristling with anger. You watch as he moves until he’s leaning against the back of the couch, his ankles crossed over each other, arms crossed over his chest. “You were being nice.”

“I was!” you protest, body growing warmer. “You’re just being weird and- and sauve because-” 

“Because?” Sylus presses, narrowing his eyes.

“Because you have a crush on me!”

Shit, shit, shit. 

You don’t even know where the outburst came from, but your hand is slapping over your mouth as you stare at Sylus, feeling utterly mortified. You were totally projecting.

“A crush,” he echoes, clicking his tongue as he examines you.

“I- I didn’t mean that,” you blurt out, voice all pitchy and panicky. “I only meant that-”

You squeak when he reaches you in a few measured strides, his calloused fingers squishing your cheeks together until your lips pucker out like a fish. 

“No?” Sylus murmurs, raising his brows, “pray tell, Miss Enforcer, what did you mean?”

“I… I don’t know?” you offer meekly, fidgeting under his grip, desperate to be let free.

Sylus’ nose nudging against your cheek causes you to stiffen, his fingers loosening their grip on you to instead stroke across the skin of your jaw. You let out a soft noise when he cups your cheek, his hands maneuvering your head until his nose grazes across the length of your neck, his breath hot as it fans across your skin.

“And if I did?” he asks, pressing himself closer, arm dropping to wrap around your waist tightly. “Have a… crush as you say.”

“Then- then-” you struggle to form a sentence, biting your lip to muffle any more damning noises that could be used against you.

“Then?” Sylus cajoles, his voice low and lilting, nose pressing firmly into your throat as he sucks in a sharp breath, savoring your scent.

“Then that would be embarrassing!”

You shove at his chest, stumbling a bit, still hazy from his closeness and intimate ministrations. Sylus holds you in place with his gaze, his arms crossing over his chest and you swallow down an indecent sound when you see the slight flex of his biceps underneath the fabric of his jacket.

The kitchen counter grounds you, your fingers pressing against the cool marble. It feels hard to breathe, and rather you’re the embarrassing one, having lost your nerve the moment he had gotten too close.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” Sylus asks, cocking his head to the side, his shoulders rolling lazily. 

“Notice what?” you shoot back, grasping for a glass and filling it up with water before chugging it down rapidly.

“Stop playing stupid,” he replies, his grin mirthless. “I smelt it on you the moment you stepped into that birdcage with me.”

Now he was saying you smelt bad? 

“Smelt what?” you scoff, partially offended. You turn your head, angling it down towards your shoulder, trying to sniff yourself subtly. 

Sure, maybe you were a little sweaty, but he was making you nervous! You frown at Sylus, and he rolls his eyes, his hand reaching out to grip your chin, tilting your head upwards, towards him.

“Your arousal,” Sylus rasps, his eyes pinning you in place. “Wetness, slick, whatever you wish to call it. I can smell it, Miss Enforcer.”

Your face pales, humiliation washing over your expression, stomach twisting uncomfortably with embarrassment. Whatever thoughts are currently occupying your mind fizzle away, replaced by a sense of overwhelming mortification. 

You open your mouth to respond and clamp it back shut, thinking better of it lest you embarrass yourself any further. Perhaps there was no point to having a sense of dignity, seeing as Sylus had clearly torn it to shreds. 

“The Frenzy Enhancer doesn’t only enhance a Praedator’s Frenzy,” Sylus murmurs, tugging your head back when you avert your gaze, forcing you to meet his eyes. “It heightens our senses; for the purpose of making it all the more agonizing when one is deprived of delivering a bite.”

The LCBI had neglected to include that little fact in your training. You swallow nervously when his thumb traces down your cheek, over your jaw and presses against the jumpy pulse in your throat.

“Even now,” he continues, his other hand fisting your hair to tug your head back further. You yelp at the pain that sears across your scalp, fingers scrabbling at his chest as he presses his nose to your throat and inhales again. “You’re enjoying this, Miss Enforcer.”

“I- I am not!” you protest, doing your best to sound offended and hide the traitorous heat that was currently swirling low in your stomach with every fan of his breath against your skin. “Your nerves are clearly misfiring; d- damaged probably,” you sputter, “after your Frenzy.”

Sylus laughs hoarsely, his eyes lighting up and you know your pathetic excuse hasn’t worked.

“Stop fighting this,” he says, still sounding amused, his eyes softening slightly when he sees how flustered you’ve become. “You don’t stand to gain anything from pushing me away. Haven’t I made my intentions clear?”

“It’s complicated,” you murmur, “you’re- you’re you-”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, raising his brows.

You huff out an aggravated breath, refusing to be cornered.

“Nothing. I only reacted that way because you seemed awfully wanton in that birdcage,” you hiss heatedly, waving your hands about. “Not to mention uninhibited.” 

“I was hit with a Frenzy Enhancer,” Sylus snaps, his fists clenching. “Yes, I was uninhibited, but I was not wanton.”

Your lips purse as you consider Sylus’ response, remembering the way he had arched his back in his frenzy, the subtle buck of his hips when you’d placed your hand on his pec. Not to mention the groaning and well… whimpering. The feeling of his teeth on your ear hadn’t exactly helped in the moment either. 

There’s an itch in you to get the last word in.

“You were wanton,” you argue, shooting him a stubborn look.

“I could have killed you,” Sylus murmurs dangerously, reaching out to grab your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Sometimes a bite isn’t enough. I could have torn you apart, limb by limb until you were all but a severed, bleeding mess on the cold floor. Would you have liked that?”

You can’t say you would’ve, remembering the Praedator attack all those years, but this Sylus and there’s a foolish part of you that hopes that he would have been able to reign in his base desires.

“I’m still in one piece,” you mumble out, “besides, I know how to handle myself.” You sneak a glance down at the way his hands are holding yours, lips pursing as you feel the warmth of skin bleeding into yours. It’s too much for your poor heart, really. “You can let go now.”

“No,” he says quietly, his voice softer as he dips his head, the tip of his nose grazing yours. “I know you want this. I want this.”

You bite your lip at the pleading tone in his voice, heart stuttering in your chest. Sylus’ voice seems to wrap around you, and you peer up at him when he presses his forehead against yours, letting out a heavy exhale.

“Are you going to make me beg, hm?” Sylus muses, a smile pulling at his lips when he sees your lips twitch. “Please?” he whispers, his voice low and soft and somehow the sweetest you’ve ever heard Sylus. “I’ll be good, Miss Enforcer. Please?”

An incoherent noise escapes you, fingers tightening into his jacket as he steps closer, his body flush against yours.

“Will you let me have you?” he whispers, nosing into your cheek. “...Or perhaps you don’t want me to ask. Maybe you want me to lose control like I did in that birdcage. Growling and snapping and feral.”

Sylus was driving you insane. Your body feels hot, mind blank as a shaky breath escapes you when he grazes his fangs against your neck, his breath hot. You can feel how sticky your panties have become, thighs pressing together to try and soothe the ache of your cunt, aware of the overwhelming emptiness of it.

“Do you deny it, sweetness?”

“No,” you concede, your voice trembling, “no, I don’t.”

He hums, nudging impossibly closer, tongue darting out to lave over the erratic pump of blood in your throat. You open your mouth, a quiet mewl leaving you as he smiles against your skin, his lips pressing a heated kiss to your sensitive skin.

“Is that so?” Sylus muses, his hands drifting down to grasp your hips. “Such a shame you’ve waited so long to confess,” he continues, his voice low and purring, “had you asked me earlier, I would have given you my cock; no questions asked.”

“You- you would have?” you ask, your voice strangled as he kisses your neck again.

You can hardly catch up with what’s happening when he spins you around in his arms, his chest flush against your back, arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

“Yes,” he soothes, his fingers wrapping around your throat to tip your head back against his chest. “So many opportunities wasted,” he sighs, clicking his tongue. “I could have had you bouncing on my cock days ago, had my tongue buried inside of you, pounded into you until you were crying, bred you on my knot-”

“K- knot?” you squeak, head snapping to meet his eyes, “I thought that was a myth.”

“Hardly a myth,” he sighs, fingers dipping lower, delving under your skirt, “Praedators have knots, sweetness; intended to-” you gasp when he presses the pads of his fingers against your damp panties, stroking gently, “intended to lock us together.” Sylus smiles against your cheek, revelling in your wetness that was soaking through. He increases the pressure of his fingers, rubbing harder. “And I fully intend to knot you, Miss Enforcer,” he whispers, lips drifting across your cheek in a fleeting kiss. “Oh, don’t look so scandalized. You’ll be begging to be bred the moment I cum inside of you.”

Begging to be bred? Cumming inside? He was going to cum inside? You were most definitely going to die tonight; although perhaps part of you was resigned to your fate, his obscene words making you greedy and leaving you wanting more. 

“Please,” you whimper, rolling your hips against his hand, grasping at his wrist to press his fingers against your clothed pussy more firmly. “I- I want that.”

Sylus lets out a hoarse grown at your whimpered confession, his fingers tugging your panties to the side.

“You’re dripping,” he hisses, fingers sliding through your puffy folds, “so, so wet, baby. Smells like you’re in heat.”

You really had to do more research on Praedators. Maybe you were in heat with how bold you had become, no longer stifling your noises, too far gone to care.

“That’s it,” Sylus rasps, rubbing your slick over your folds before sliding his fingers up to rub against your swollen clit. “Oh, it must ache,” he coos, beginning to rub tight circles against the throbbing bud, “I can feel how needy you are.”

Your head bobs up and down in rapid nods, ass pushing back into him as you rock your hips, whining when he circles your clit and squeezes your throat at the same time.

“Oh- oh fuck-” you mewl when he hunches over you a little, his breath quickening as he presses his hips into your ass like he had done a few nights ago in that birdcage. “Sylus!”

“So wet,” he mutters as though in a trance, his chin resting on your shoulder, fingers speeding up. “Shall I give you my fingers, baby, hm?”

“Y- yes,” you whine, dragging out the word into a low hiss, your nails digging into his forearm.

A sharp gasp leaves you when he eases one finger in, another following suit quickly after. It’s nothing like the feel of your own fingers, Sylus’ are longer and reach much, much deeper. You feel full already, head dropping forward as you moan raggedly, pushing at his hand to try and stuff his fingers inside of you even more.

“Greedy little slut,” he growls, his fingers crooking inside of you, “so needy and wanton, aren’t you? Pushing me away when what you really want is this - my fingers inside of you, my hand wrapped around your throat, my cock rutting into your ass.”

“I do,” you hiccup, mouth dropping open as you continue to moan, hips swaying back to meet his rutting, the everpresent press of his hard cock against you making your cunt drip with arousal. “Ah hah- I do want this.”

“Yes, you do,” he whispers raspingly. “Take what you need then, baby, take my fucking fingers.”

And you do take his fingers with soft cries and needy gasps and desperate whimpers. Sylus quickens his pace, tightening the hold he has on your throat when you try to squirm away, the lewd sounds of pussy embarrassing in the quietness of your apartment. He breathes heavily against your ear, panting as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, his hand turning slightly to add his thumb to the mix.

You arch your back against him when he rubs your clit, turning your head into the crook of his neck, mewling as you try and bounce, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers. Sylus snarls when you clench down on his fingers tightly, his face pressing into your neck, fangs digging into your skin as he leaves harsh, biting kisses. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you begin to chant, your hand sliding into his hair, fisting it and tugging as you roll your hips needily, panting raggedly. “‘m gonna ah- ‘m gonna cum, Sylus.”

“Yeah?” he rasps, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, careful to not let his fangs sink in too deep. “Cum on my fingers then, grind that wet, little pussy all over my hand and cum, baby.”

A sharp gasp leaves you, fingers clutching at his wrist when he fucks his fingers into your pussy faster, his thumb unrelenting on your swollen clit. You moan brokenly when he kisses your neck, tipping your head to the side to bare more of your neck to him. Sylus growls, his kisses trailing upwards, his lips soft behind your ear.

You cry out when he sinks his teeth into your earlobe, feeling the way his fangs bite into the delicate bone of your ear. It’s just like in the birdcage, you think dazedly. He ruts into your ass harder, and the ragged panting coming from him is enough to make you come undone. You try to steady yourself, but it’s impossible with the way your thighs tremble, head tossing back as you cum around his fingers.

“Good girl,” he breathes out when you shudder and quake in his arms, his grip tightening to prevent you from falling when your knees buckle. Sylus kisses your cheek, dragging his lips to pepper soft kisses along your jaw as you ride out the last few waves of your orgasm, his fingers still stroking over your clit gently as your cunt clenches. “Good girl, sweetness, you did so well for me.”

Chest rising and falling rapidly, you drop your head back against his chest, leaning against Sylus for support. You whine softly when he pulls his fingers free, his hands petting over your skirt as he smooths it down over your thighs.

On shaky legs, you turn, arms wrapping around his neck. He hugs you closer, his head lowering as his nose brushes against yours gently.

“Be mine.”

Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses you, deep and longing. He squeezes at your waist and your hands drift, from his shoulders to his cheeks, cupping them to bring him closer, to kiss him more desperately.

Both of you stumble into the kitchen table, Sylus’ hands landing on either side of you as he deepens the kiss. You whine when he licks at your lower lip, mouth opening obediently for him. He groans and you let your hands drift, pawing at his trousers, palming at the material to feel the hard bulge of his cock, hot and thick and throbbing faintly against your hand through the layers of fabric. 

“I want it,” you whisper against his lips, kissing him feverishly. “I want your cock, Sylus. I- I want you to-” you can hardly believe you’re about to say this, but the thought of it ignites a heat inside of you, an overwhelming need to be completely at his mercy. “I want you to breed me.” 

His crimson eyes flare, hands reaching out towards you, pulling your shirt up over your head. You make an indignant sound when he hurriedly pulls your bra off, moaning in succession when he pinches your stiffened nipples.

“I can do that,” he murmurs, pulling at your skirt and panties too, until you’re bare. “I’ll breed you, baby.”

A laugh bubbles out of you when he picks you up, arms wrapping around his neck and legs around his waist. Sylus’ steps are practised as he strides into your bedroom, tossing you onto your bed. You bounce a little, regaining your balance before crawling towards him, nuzzling into the bulge of his cock.

“‘s big, Sylus,” you whisper, watching with hazy eyes as he pulls his jacket and shirt off in a smooth motion, his defined abdomen on display. You tug at his belt and he tugs it free, pushing his trousers and boxers down to reveal his cock.

It’s thicker than you’ve seen before, the tip of it blushed angrily, pre-cum smeared across the head. Your mouth waters, inching closer to run your tongue against the length of his cock, mewling softly at the heady taste as you trace your tongue across a prominent vein on the underside.

Your brows furrow when you run your tongue along the length again, pulling back to find a swollen ridge at the base of his cock. His knot. 

“Can I touch it?” you whisper curiously, head tilting to get a closer look.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, fingers spreading out across your scalp, scratching gently.

It’s strange, you think. A little puffier and thicker than his actual cock, darker in color too. You press your fingers against it gently and it gives just a bit under your prodding. You sneak a glance up at Sylus and he raises his brows, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“It’ll feel good inside of you,” he promises self-assuredly, “swells up when- oh fuck-”

His breath stutters when you mouth at his knot, tongue laving over the sensitive spot as you squirm, kissing his knot. You lick over the ridge again, smiling to yourself when Sylus’ thighs twitch. His hand pushes at your head subtly when you focus on his cock again, a quiet breathy sound escaping him, enough to have you perking up and your pussy clenching. You want him as needy as he had you.

“You said you’d be good,” you coo, leaning forward to brush a kiss to his hip, your head dipping again to nuzzle against his cock.

“I- nghhh-” Sylus stammers, his cheeks flushed a light pink when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to suck lazily. “I- I am being good.”

You hum happily, pressing your head forward, swallowing down more of his cock.

“Fuck-” he breathes out, his hands petting at your hair, pushing down gently to make you take his cock further, until it’s stuffed down your throat and your nose is buried into the snowy hair at the base of his cock. “Feels- ah- feels so good, sweetness.”

You smile when he lets you pull off, lapping at the tip of his cock teasingly, your hand reaching up to squeeze his pec. Sylus swears, his back arching at the action, a soft whine spilling out of him.

“You like this,” you muse, dipping your head to suckle at his balls, relishing in the noises he lets out, watching his thighs tremble. You stare up at him hazily, tongue lolling out for him when he grasps his cock, his hand squeezing at his knot, his knuckles white with tension.

Your fingers pinch at his nipple greedily when he presses his cock back in and you squeal, the sound muffled around the thickness of his cock when he tugs harshly at your own nipple in retaliation. 

“Brat,” he mutters, pushing your head down further, grunting softly when you dig your nails into his thighs and swallow around his cock.

“I thought you were being good,” you whine when he tugs at your hair, dipping his head to kiss you eagerly, his tongue licking into your mouth. You pout when he pulls away, feeling betrayed by the shortness of his submission. 

“Sorry, doll,” Sylus says, petting your head and rewarding you with another kiss; this time softer and sweeter, his lips lingering. 

You let him kiss you in your dazed state, and Sylus takes advantage, crawling over you, his hands kneading at the fat of your thighs. Your bed is already messy, the sheets rumpling as he jostles you a bit, patting your thigh to make you move further up on the bed.

Sylus settles between your thighs, his cock hot and heavy against your stomach as he drops his weight onto you, his hands finding yours before pinning them above your head. You sigh into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into your ass when he rolls his hips, grinding his bare cock against your pussy.

“I like these,” he mumbles when he kisses down your chest and noses into your breasts. An airy noise sounds when he sucks a hardened nipple into his mouth, his teeth catching against the bud before he bites down measuredly. 

You squirm, hips rolling needily when he sucks more of your breast into his mouth, alternating between them when he feels the other being neglected.

“Such pretty tits,” Sylus sighs, pulling back to stare at the stiffened peaks of your breasts, covered in his spit and budding teeth marks that were bound to bruise.

“I thought you were gonna knot me,” you murmur, rolling your hips up, mewling when you feel his cock slide between your folds.

“So desperate,” he muses, letting go of your hands in favor of grasping his cock.

You look down, eyes half-lidded as he grips the base of his cock, right over his knot that somehow seemed a little larger in the moments that had passed. A whine escapes you when he slaps his cock against your pussy, your cheeks flushing when you see the glistening strings of slick clinging to his cock.

“How sweet,” Sylus croons, his grin growing sharper, “even your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

You huff out a breath to hide your embarrassment, throwing your arm over your eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”

He laughs, rising up to sit on the haunches of his legs, his hand stroking his cock lazily. “But you enjoy it, doll. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want now.”

You watch with bated breath as he notches the head of his cock against your pussy, squirming when you realize how much his cock is actually going to stretch you out. The knot at the base seems even more intimidating; you feel a little nervous, thighs trying to clamp shut just when Sylus begins to push in. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, “relax, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

You reach for his hand, trying to calm your rapid heart and Sylus gives it to you, lacing your fingers together before kissing your knuckles.

A soft gasp leaves you when he begins to push in again, and that’s when you feel how girthy his cock truly is. It stretches you, inch by inch and you bite your lip, eyes slipping shut.

“That’s it,” Sylus soothes, squeezing your hand and tilting his head to kiss your shoulder, “take my cock, sweetness.”

An incoherent sound emanates from you when he sinks all the way in, your hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you feel how good he’s stretching you, how full you feel - and that’s without his knot. You stare down, heart fluttering in your chest when you see where you’re connected, his cock buried inside of you.

“A- aren’t you going to put your knot in?” you ask meekly, mouth dropping open when he begins to move his hips, the slow, rolling motions making you see stars.

“When you’re ready for it,” Sylus whispers, his voice hoarse, “pretty pussy’s still too tight for it. Practically trying to milk my cock already, baby.”

You hiccup, tears nearly springing to your eyes when he begins to draw his hips out, thrusting forward more forcefully. Sylus moans loudly and you claw at his back, arms and legs clinging to him tightly when he swirls his hips and grinds them forward, burying his cock in deeper with every thrust.

His knot seems to swelling rapidly, and you peek down with wide eyes, letting out a shaky breath when you see how thick it’s become. It squishes up against you with every thrust Sylus delivers, catching against your clit every now and then. 

“I- ngh- fuck- I don’t think it’s going to fit,” you whimper, trying to push at Sylus’ abdomen when he grips your hips.

He snaps his teeth, irritation showing on his face when you try to squirm away from his knot, his grip tight enough to keep you in place. “Don’t fucking run from it,” he snarls, and you’re reminded of the way he was in that birdcage, feral and unrelenting. 

You gulp when he grips your thighs, pushing them down towards your stomach, practically folding you until your cunt is on display for him. It’s lewd and obscene and so terribly hot, that your pussy clenches down greedily, eager for more of his attention.

“There we go,” he whispers, snapping his hips harder, his balls smacking against your ass, “pretty pussy loves my cock, hm?”

You blink up at him, nodding shyly, the words slipping out of you unbidden. “I love your cock, Sylus.”

Sylus’ hips stutter to a stop when he hears your shy, whispery words, his cheeks flushing to a pretty pink that has your eyes lighting up.

“Y- yeah?” he murmurs, and you laugh when he clears his throat, giddy by the fact that you’ve managed to fluster Sylus of all people. “Whose cock is it then, baby?”

“Mine,” you murmur, your fingers reaching down to scratch at his navel, through the coarse hairs that lie there. “Your cock’s all mine.”

Sylus groans and you yelp when he suddenly spreads you open, gasping when he thumbs apart your folds, his knot beginning to sink inside of you. It’s a tight fit and you cry out, tears pricking at your lash line when he finally manages to bully it in.

You feel so full, you’re almost sure you can feel his cock in your throat. 

“No- shit- don’t fucking clench,” he groans, his head dropping forward to bury his head into the crook of your neck when your pussy flutters around his fat cock and knot, trying to accomodate. 

“Can’t help it,” you wail, fingers pulling at his hair harshly, squeaking when he tugs his knot free and starts to fuck you again. 

Sylus ruts his hips into you, driving forward and pounding his cock into your cunt until you sob, writhing on your bed, the building pleasure entirely overwhelming. The clap of his hips is loud, balls smacking into you with every thrust, his knot creating an embarrassing sound whenever it sinks inside of you, before Sylus pulls his hips back, tugging the knot free.

“Gonna breed you,” he begins to mutter, his teeth nipping at your shoulder and neck, biting with measured care. “I’m going to breed this tight fucking cunt, sweetness. Give you all of my fucking cum.”

“All of it,” you echo breathlessly, “want it- want your knot, Sylus.”

“You’re getting it,” he growls, squeezing your hips tightly before shoving his knot in completely.

You scream, twitching when it swells inside of you completely. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, entirely too large to be tugged free again when Sylus jerks his hips.

“Oh- oh my- fuck-” you squeal, and Sylus smashes his lips over yours in a heated kiss. It’s all teeth and fangs and spit, and you grab blindly at his shoulders, gasping uncontrollably when it continues to swell, growing fatter and fatter until your pussy throbs around it, the knot locking you together.

“Cum,” Sylus rasps against your lips, “cum, doll, cum on my fucking knot. Cum on my fucking knot so I can give you my cum and breed this sweet, little pussy.”

You moan brokenly, thighs twitching when he rubs your clit, the sensations on the sensitive bud trying to make you curl away from him. Sylus kisses you again and you whimper into his mouth, cunt clenching uncontrollably as you cum, head tossed back, and back arched.

He curses, his head dropping forward at the feel of your pussy, and you mewl when he cums straight after, ears perking up at the low growls and breathy groans. His cum is hot and thick, and you’re still too full, filled up with his cum and his cock. The knot doesn’t give way until several moments later, deflating slowly.

Sylus’ cum spills out, hot and slow and you watch with dazed eyes as it leaks out of you, your pussy fluttering around nothing, thanks to the loss of his fat cock. 

“That’s no good,” he murmurs, his fingers spreading through his cum, rubbing it over your folds and clit before trying to push it back into your pussy.

Sylus frowns at you when you slap his hand away, and you give him a half-hearted glare, pussy aching and thighs sore from the way he had fucked and bent you. He hums, slinking down the bed to kiss your thighs and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, the throbbing in your pussy fading faintly as he massages your sore muscles and kisses your clit every now and then, his actions affectionate.

You let him clean you up, thankful for the glass of water he brings you. Sylus pulls you closer into his chest, kissing your forehead, his hands smoothing up and down your sides.

“So what does it mean?” you ask him quietly, leaning forward to meet his kiss when he tips your chin upwards, “the feather?”

Sylus’ expression sobers for a moment, his lips grazing across your cheek to whisper into your ear.

“That your soulmate is near.”

You pull back, staring up into his eyes suspiciously. When you see the slight twitch of his lips, his usual smirk pulling across his lips, you scoff and swat his chest. He laughs, catching your wrist and bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“What?” he murmurs, “am I really such a bad candidate to be your soulmate?”

“You’re lying,” you grouse, letting him pull you up onto his lap and press his face into the crook of your neck.

“You don’t know that,” Sylus whispers, tilting his head to kiss the pulse in your throat.

You can’t help but think he has such a strange obsession with it. When he emerges from the crook of your neck, you cup his jaw, staring up into his eyes. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, you think, spending every life with him, especially when he’s like this.

“Then promise me,” you say, your voice holding a hint of a challenge. “Promise me that when we’ve passed and our bones are nothing but dust that you’ll find me in the next life.”

Sylus seems slightly taken aback by your request, his eyes widening momentarily before he leans forward, slotting his lips over yours. “Is that a confession of love, sweetness?” He smiles against your lips, nipping your lower lip. “In any case, I promise it,” he whispers, his gaze intense, “in this life or the next, I will find you and have you.”

You purse your lips, heart fluttering at his declaration.

“You’re a fool,” you mumble, pressing yourself more firmly against his chest, head resting on his shoulder.

“And yet you still took my knot.”

“I hate you.”

Sylus pouts mockingly, his lips attacking your cheek with kisses until you have no choice but to let out the laughter you’ve been holding in. His words are a gentle whisper, caressing your skin, his promise tightening the unseen bonds that bind you together. 

“Forever, my sweet soulmate.”

[akutasoda]

all for you

synopsis - they'll always love you so dearly

includes - mydei, anaxagoras, phainon

warnings - gn!reader, maybe ooc, fluff, slight crack, wc - 1.5k

a/n: what is this? i couldn't tell you- at best it's a silly little piece i thought of the other day ;;

mydei ★↷

mydei stared you down with a scowl.

all you could do was ignore his scowling and continue on with your task, which was easier said than done as even after all this time, mydei still had a glare that still could affect you - at most it gave you a slightly discomfited feeling but you could always dismiss it.

it wasn't uncommon knowledge that mydei often put himself in uncertain situations, always with a confidence that made it seem like nothing to him. whether that was a result of his own curse or the years of experience he had with those same scenarios was an equal guess.

regardless of which, namely the former, mydei occasionally faced some particularly tricky situations which would result in your worrying.

it was hard not to, even if you were well aware of his curse, the idea of him getting hurt was still enough to bubble some concerns of yours to the surface. mydei always insisted he was fine but that was never enough to soothe your worries.

you continued to make an effort to check for any outstanding injuries that he still may have sustained, none of any potentials would've been fatal but you still wanted to make sure there was absolutely nothing.

if anything, it was almost routine at this point. mydei would get into some kind of altercation and immediately seek you out afterwards. no matter how much he acted like it was a bother or claimed it was unnecessary, he always sought out comfort in your embrace, entrusting you with seeing him at his lowest.

“you worry about me too much” mydei's scowl barely wavered, his eyes still constantly looking at you and only you

you fought back a scoff, “if you're aware then you should watch that heedlessness of yours”

mydei studied your face, taking note on the seriousness you portrayed. he'd be lying if he didn't think your concern for him was endearing, even throughout the constant reminders to you, he found it somewhat charming that you still bothered to care for him in that sense.

there was a few moments of silence before mydei broke the standoff. it was his turn to scoff at you as he abruptly pulled you into a hug with little resistance on your end, “fine, but no promises”

you knew that was the best that you would get from him in words.

anaxagoras ★↷

a long sigh was drawn out from you as your eyes flicked over to observe what anaxagoras was doing - it didn't shock you to see that he was doing exactly the same as what he was doing the last time you checked.

you couldn't exactly recall how long it had been since you'd idly sat beside him. originally your plan was to simply pay anaxagoras a visit as you were passing by, but while you dropped by he had informed you that he was finishing up soon so he'd leave with you. so you saw no harm in complying and waiting around for him.

although, looking back, you realise how foolish of a decision it was. whether it was anaxagoras having a different concept of what “soon” meant, or it was a case of him getting too engrossed back into his work, you weren't too sure. but whatever it was, it was now the cause of your boredom as you waited.

you'd waited too long for him by now to simply turn away and leave without him - you'd made a much earlier attempt but anaxagoras had stopped you, reassuring you he'd be finished some time soon, another case where more insistence on your end would've saved you from waiting longer.

in complete honesty, you never understood anaxagoras.

he always struck as the type of person who much preferred his own company rather than others and it certainly stood true in quite a few cases. anaxagoras also always made it very clear that he had little tolerance for those who held little competence and broke the rules he always went on about.

perhaps it was the fact that you never broke any of those rules that was the reason why he didn't mind you hanging around.

“if you have time to stare, then you have time to talk” anaxagoras's voice snapped you out your daze “speak what's on your mind”

it took a moment to formulate a response on your end after being abruptly caught off guard, although all you managed to get across was a short response claiming it was nothing major - something that was met by a glower on the scholar's end.

anaxagoras soon followed up by announcing that he was finally finished, making a vague signal for the two of you to leave and you joined him. you filled the spot beside him but for some reason, your previous train of thought was still occupying your mind.

after a brief moment you decided there was no harm in asking, which led to you poising the question about why he insisted on you waiting around for him.

he paused for a moment, looking over to you and stopping in his tracks, something you mimicked in turn,

“that's because you're more favourable to me, a preferable appearance in my life”

you looked at him in disbelief, while it certainly was a conclusion that you did entertain on occasion, the idea that anaxagoras did see you as a potential friend, but you always assumed that was too far fetched so being an acquaintance of his was enough for you.

he looked at you, a quizzical almost judgemental look reflected upon his features,

“i thought it was common knowledge for you”

all you could do was stare vacantly at him still, his words still barely processing in your mind as you watched him leave - the rare, sincere smile that fixed its way onto his face going completely unnoticed by anyone.

phainon ★↷

you'd been assisting aglaea throughout the day, a few jobs here and then that needed to be done but nothing too major.

more frequently as the day progressed however, you caught aglaea stopping occasionally, almost as if she was checking for something but anytime you asked if everything was alright she would brush it off and continue on as normal.

you believed her at first as you had no reason to doubt her but soon you found yourself feeling a pair of eyes on you sometimes, coinciding with aglaea stopping in her duties. it happened too frequently to be a pure coincidence but you still attempted to brush it off as you doubted it was anything of concern considering how aglaea kept brushing it off as well.

but eventually you caught her smiling a bit, a smile that felt more knowing than you would've liked - almost as if she knew something you didn't.

you soon observed aglaea delighting in your apparent obliviousness as she began making audible comments to you ranging from “did you see that?” to “do you really have no clue?”

in some sense, it was starting to creep you out as each time left you more questions and unease than answers. thankfully, eventually, aglaea decided to ease your worries with the next time she sensed it, she stopped and so did you, aglaea moved closer to you before talking in a hush,

“he's looking at you again”

arguably that creeped you out more but your gaze followed the direction she was pointing in and suddenly it all became clear again.

not too far from where you were, phainon was watching you. as soon as you locked eyes with him, phainon gave you a sincere smile and waved quickly before looking away and walking off.

you looked back to aglaea, “has he been doing that the whole time i've been with you?”

she hummed slightly in agreement, “most likely, he probably just wants to check up on you without interrupting” aglaea paused for a moment, “besides he has his own tasks to attend too”

you looked back to where he was a moment ago, the spot now vacant, now you were determined to catch him again.

a task that proved to be rather easy now that you knew what was going on as not too long after you caught him again, phainon then giving the same response as before before disappearing again. in a way it was sweet, the idea that he was watching to make sure everything was okay with you and presumably wanting to see you throughout the day without interfering.

after all, phainon always cherished being by your side, complete infatuated with your presence.

additionally it became very clear that phainon was mainly doing so because he clearly missed your presence, which was confirmed from the moment you departed from aglaea for the day and phainon took the moment to show up again. taking your hand in his with the biggest smile he'd shown all day.

[reality-itself-but-magic]

Lost in a land not your own, with your memories of the past torn and smudged like paper left out in a storm, you clung to whatever memories you could salvage. When you woke up, you had three things: A brittle, broken sword, a map with a destination circled, and a simple written apology. You were found in the temple of one of the newer gods, one of those which hadn’t quite learnt to control their powers. There were reports of them making storms in deserts, warping life by accident, all sorts of bizarre occurrences. Bizarre almost like taking a stranger from their home and dropping them somewhere else.

But gods did as gods were, and seething over the mistakes of a child would not do any good to you. You set out to get to the circled destination, determined to find your way back home. Home to where there would be people waiting for you - maybe even people who worried after you.

You set sail with a company of honest folk, merchants and farmers looking to sell their wares across the seas. You didn’t want to trouble any of them, taking up instead a quite corner, where it was just you and the rocking waves.

You took out the sword you had landed with. It was broken, brittle, bad craftsmanship. You couldn’t remember where you learnt to tell how well made a sword was. Running your hands over the dull edge, you startled as you heard a voice from behind you.

“That looks awfully worn.” A stranger commented. “Want me to fix that up for you?”

You took them up on the offer, once they told you they used to be a blacksmith. Crows feet lined their eyes, but warmth still shone in them. They told you much more, as you spent the whole evening with them while they worked, partially to keep an eye on the sword, and partially because you yearned for conversation, a sympathetic other. When they were done, they handed you the sword, no longer as marred and battle-worn, but still without many virtues to extoll. Your hands closed around the leather of the hilt, and with a flash you knew something with certainty. You had loved this blade, once. This was a blade you knew as kindly as yourself. The blacksmith might have seen some of that, because they left you be for the evening, departing with an address and a firm order to drop by if you were ever near.

By the time the voyage over sea had ended, your spirits had grown low, and the map had faded for him many times you had unrolled it, pored over it, imagined yourself home with it. The next leg of your journey, you went to meet a woman who led travelers on trips to the mountain villages, whom the blacksmith had recommended you speak to.

She was kind, a bit sharp while she bargained, but kind, inviting you to stay in her house for the night, as the trip on horseback began the next day. As you followed her along hallways with framed portraits, floors dotted with children’s toys, you felt a sort of yearning, a nostalgia for a place you’d never been. The warm, lived-in home she kept was painfully familiar to you, but terribly out of reach.

By the next day, when lunchtime rolled around, the unpolished nature of your sword was irritating you. You picked up a round enough stone, with an expert eye, and spent your spare time polishing the blade. You remember… something. There is a great weight to this sword.

By the time she guides you to the village, your memories are lacing together. Your recollections multiply, you know this path, this stone, this plant. You know this place where you learnt the trade of forging, this place which is your home.

You break into a dead sprint as your heart pounds in you ears. The guide is left behind but somehow, you don’t think she’ll mind. Up ahead, tending to the garden, is a beautiful woman half-wearing armor, interrogating someone nearby. As she sees you, her face lights up.

“So you are here! Everyone seems awfully worried about you, and I was gone far longer than I meant to be, the bounty hunters guild is being stingy as always-” She was cut off by you barreling into her, hugging her as if you could merge into her so you would never be separated again. You step back, drawing the sword.

“I believe this is yours?” You ask, memories almost all reformed. You remember her - your beautiful, amazing wife, for whom you had forged this sword with your two hands, who probably didn’t even know you were missing if she was just now able to return from her adventuring - and you swear you’ll never forget her again.

@otherwindow I made it unsad ^^

A Dark Souls-like game where the lore for a weapon gets less vague the more you upgrade it. Broken Blade: A brittle sword. You can’t seem to let it go. Unpolished Blade: A cherished weapon from ages past. Polished Blade: You remember something. Bride’s Blade: Your wife’s sword.

[starlightkyeom]

hit replay | x.mh

(where your ex moves into the empty unit in your apartment building and maybe the relationship isn't over after all)

pairing: xu minghao x afab!reader genre: exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers | fluff, romance, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: 12.7k (this was less than 4k yesterday idk) warnings: mentions of food & drinks, talk of the previous relationship, massages (f. receiving), body worship, light nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), briefest hand job, protected sex, they're just very soft for each other, that's it, reader doesn't use gendered language but has female anatomy

a/n: thank you to the amazing @camandemstudios for hosting The Lonely Hearts Collab ❤️ make sure you check out all the amazing fics! this ended up much softer (and longer) than i thought it would, but i'm not mad at that. we all need soft hao for love day. i hope you enjoy it!

taglist: @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @tinkerbell460, @aidanjoon, @cookiearmy, @kaepjjangiya, @lostmembrane (join my svt taglist here)

Sometimes you think your life should come with one of those signs like they have in workplaces. You know, the ones that say how many days since the last accident? The ones that people always seem to use as memes? You think that might be appropriate in your case, too. Except, instead of days since the last accident, it would count days since you’d last seen your ex. The man who shattered your heart. The one you can’t seem to get over no matter how hard you try. 

Days since I last saw Minghao: 396

You’re not sure why your brain counts the number. Not sure why you can’t just put it out of your mind. Move on, for real this time. Of course, that’s not the same number as the days since he broke your heart. No. Unfortunately, you’ve run into him a couple of times since then, despite him moving away. A consequence of you still having a number of friends in common. And you can’t even blame them for keeping in touch with him. He didn’t really do anything wrong. Not to them and not even really to you. The two of you just…grew apart. 

Thinking back on it, even years later, you still can’t really pinpoint where it all went wrong. You remember falling for him, entirely too hard. Back when you didn’t think he took much notice of you. Always too absorbed in his latest project. You were friends, kind of. More on the periphery of each other's circles. Until you went to an art show with some mutual friends. Until you saw yourself in several of his works. None of your friends seemed all that surprised. They just let you have your little moment. 

It all happened kind of fast from there. You learned that Minghao wasn’t always one for showing his feelings in words, but he showed them in a million other ways, as long as you knew where to look. He showed them in the little things he did to make your life easier. In the way he incorporated you into his art, sometimes without it even being obvious. In the way he quietly made space for you in his life. 

Things were great, until they weren’t. And it still feels sudden all these years later. Even if it maybe, possibly, wasn’t sudden at all. 

You remember finding a new job. The kind of job you never thought you would land. The kind that Minghao instantly encouraged you to follow. Except it meant much more normal hours where Minghao kept weird hours. Sometimes he wouldn’t come to bed until the sun rose and other times he had been at work for hours when you woke up. Something about inspiration and lighting and just letting it all come together. Neither of you notice when it starts getting harder to make time for each other. At least, you didn’t notice. Only focusing on making the most of the time you do have. 

So, when Minghao tells you that he thinks you need to talk, you’re completely caught off guard. Haven’t seen all the signs that may have been there. He tells you he’s got the opportunity of a lifetime to further his career and it means he’s going to be leaving your city. Leaving the country entirely. Tells you that it’s been great and he still loves you, but he’s got to do this. Tells you that he thinks it’ll be right for both of you because you’ve been growing apart, haven’t you? You’ve both been prioritizing other things like work and friends over each other. He’s going to take this chance and he hopes you’ll understand. 

Maybe you do actually remember it falling apart after all. 

But, it’s time to cast aside your walk down memory lane. Time to leave everything behind in the old year and get ready to ring in a new one. A feat you tried last year as well and seemingly didn’t succeed at. This is the year, though. New year, new me and all that. You take one last look at your outfit before rushing out the door. Your slightly eccentric (and totally loaded) neighbors are having a party up in the penthouse of your apartment building. And even though you normally hate anyone with that kind of money, they’re actually cool and incredibly kind. They go out of their way to understand their privilege and involve themselves directly in charity. You can’t even hate that they’re barely older than you and have it all. Plus, who are you to turn down a party like this for the new year. 

The party is in full swing when you get there. Soyoon always does an excellent job of setting up a party, too. She makes sure there’s an area for people to dance and for people who want things a little quieter. And she always stocks up on top shelf drinks with so many snacks you could make an entire meal out of it. It only takes her a second before she’s waving you over. You weave through the people to get to her, so focused on your friend that you don’t notice anything else. Though you should. 

“Hey! You finally made it!” she says and pulls you into a hug. 

“Worrying I wouldn’t show?” you joke back. 

“No,” she says, smiling her megawatt smile. She indicates to someone. “I wanted you to meet your new neighbor I mentioned, the artist…”

Something drops in your stomach when you register that she says artist and you slowly turn to see the person she’s indicating. Hoping against all hope that you don’t recognize them. Instead, you see the lean figure of someone you know well. Dressed all in black and still looking like one of the most fashionable in the room. The black also works well to offset his blond mullet. It’s not a color you’ve seen on him before, but you’d know him anywhere. 

Days since I last saw Minghao: 396 0

Fuck. 

“Minghao,” you say softly, immediately kicking yourself for the way it comes out. 

“Yeah, oh. I thought you hadn’t met yet,” Soyoon says with a slight frown of confusion. 

Minghao is quick to answer, casual as can be. “I hadn’t run into her yet but we knew each other once, years ago.”

“Oh, how fun! Shall I leave you two to catch up?” she asks. 

You say no just as Minghao says yes. Soyoon looks confused, but ends up leaving the two of you alone anyway. It’s the last thing you want and there’s nowhere to go. At this rate, you’re going to get a much different start to your year. 

When you wake up well into the first morning of the New Year, your brain feels a little fuzzy. Not hungover though, so you can thank past you for that. You cannot thank past you for anything else. Not when the night before comes rushing back to you and you remember. Remember kissing Minghao, not just at midnight. Remember admitting that you still think about him. Remember wondering if he was single. Don’t remember asking him why he’s back now and without a word to you. Not that he owes it to you. It’s been years, after all. You just can’t believe that the mysterious new resident two doors down from you is none other than the ex you can’t seem to forget. 

Thankfully New Year’s Day is really about recovering from the night before and getting ready to face the rest of the year. It also gives you time to figure out what you’re going to do about Minghao. You’re sure there’s something in there about second chances. About how people change as they grow. It’s not for you, though. The more time you spend thinking about the night before, the more you realize that things are better left alone. This isn’t some great sign to revisit a painful past. It’s a way of telling you that it’s okay to finally figure out a way to move forward in your life. 

You’re just going to ignore that the person you’re moving on from lives two doors down from you. Shouldn’t be a problem at all. 

As you’re considering what you want to do for food, the doorbell rings. You’re not expecting someone and your heart plunges a little. What if it’s Minghao stopping by to talk about the night before? You can’t exactly remember all of your conversation, so you’re not sure if there’s something else that you need to talk about. You’re not prepared for any of it. When you open the door, it’s not him. It’s just someone delivering from one of your favorite take-out places. 

“I didn’t order anything,” you say, confusion clear on your face. 

The delivery guy only shrugs and shows you his phone. It’s your name and address. “I just deliver the orders I get. The tip was nice, too.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” you say and accept the bag of food. 

You decide to eat it on your couch so that you can settle in and binge something truly awful on TV. As you ponder who could have sent it, you think about Soyoon and how she loves to do this kind of thing. Yes, that seems likely. You’ll have to send her your own little thank you and thank her in person the next time you see her. Sending a text wouldn’t do it because she always says that doesn’t feel as personal. Eccentric, but endlessly kind. She’s definitely the kind of person that would want to make sure her guests are taken care of after such a great party. All feels much more calm as you settle in and your mind stays firmly off Minghao. 

The whole idea of keeping your mind off Minghao works for a while. You see him around the building and he’s always perfectly polite, but never forces a conversation. Says hi in passing and smiles. That’s just kind of how he is. It’s not that he doesn’t have plenty to say, he just doesn’t chase after anyone for a chat. Doesn’t see the point in forcing something when both people aren’t interested. Honestly, it’s a bit disarming because as well as you knew him once, it’s not what you’re expecting. There are times when you even consider if you should strike up a conversation with him. At the very least, there are things left unsaid from New Year’s. Things you know that you should get out of the way. Especially when Soyoon asks for details on what’s going on and you’re not really sure how much to share. 

But, then life catches up with you, as it seems prone to do. Things pick up at work and you find that you’re back into your routine without a second thought. That’s always the thing about the new year. It starts and it’s kind of slim on holidays while you’re getting into it. It also seems unspoken that people just don’t take time off then. Not when so many take time off around the holidays. (Something you also did, taking off the two days after New Year’s so you wouldn’t have to go back for a short week. Best decision you’ve made in a long time.)

You blink and January fades into February. Your brain is somewhere else entirely when you rush into your favorite coffee shop by your office, running a little bit late because you’re heading in on the weekend. The shop is decorated for Valentine’s Day already, like it seems to be every year once the calendar hits February. Something in you fights rolling your eyes. It’s not that you hate the holiday, it’s just that you’re a little bitter for another one spent without a partner. As much as you may say it doesn’t matter, it feels like it would be nice to have someone. Even if all you did was stay in to have a nice meal or play a game or watch something on TV. Just a moment for the two of you in the midst of all the chaos. When the barista asks for your order, you shake away the thoughts and give it, pulling your phone out to tap and pay.

“Oh, it’s covered,” she says and your brow furrows. 

“What?” you ask.

“Someone already covered your order today,” she repeats.

“But how did…” you start to ask under your breath and trail off. 

“Did you need anything else?” she asks brightly. 

“No, I guess not,” you say and put away your phone.

As you head down to wait for your order, your brain whirs into action. Who is out here just somehow paying for your order? You cast your eyes around the shop and nobody looks familiar. Well, a few people do in that way that regulars stick out when you’re also a regular. Nobody seems to be paying attention to you, though, or giving you any indication that they paid for your order. It shows up on the counter before you can think any further about it. 

The rest of the week goes in a similar fashion. Your coffee order is taken care of any time you stop in and the barista only smiles when you ask her who’s doing it. The only answer she gives is that you’ll realize it if you think about it. Not entirely helpful. At work, you get a surprise lunch just as you’re on the verge of a breakdown over a project. Mingyu, one of your closest friends even outside of work, offers lunch as a break and you take it without question. After all, the two of you were friends before becoming coworkers so it’s not unexpected that he would realize you’re feeling burnt out. Another of your friends asks you to go with him to a show you’ve been wanting to see and won’t even let you pay him back for the ticket. There are other little things, too. Things that you wouldn’t normally notice, but it’s like everything is going your way. It makes you a little wary. Mostly, though, it just makes you grateful. It feels like such a good way to start the year.

It isn’t until the weekend that you finally put it all together. Saturday morning comes and you let yourself sleep in after being out a little later the night before to go to the show. There’s an unexpected knock at the door that gives you a little deja vu back to New Year’s Day. You yawn and stretch as you get out of bed and head to the door. This time, there’s no delivery person waiting for you. There’s just a basket, clearly put together very thoughtfully. You bring it inside and start to look through what’s in there. A calming tea. A bath bomb. Some chocolates. A candle. A book that you've never heard of and somehow know you’re going to love. It’s the perfect kit to have the best and most relaxing day. 

And that’s when it hits you. The coffee, the lunch, the show, all the little surprises. It’s all coming from one person. The one person who likes to let his actions speak louder than his words. The one person who clearly hasn’t just been letting you be since the party. This is Minghao all over. You’re a little surprised at how easily the realization clicks into place. Also a little surprised that it didn’t click sooner. Maybe you had forgotten more about him than you thought. Maybe he wasn’t the only person taking up residence in your mind anymore. 

There’s a lot to think about and you figure that you’ll use the time taking a bath to do just that. Well, you shower first to make sure you’re clean and because you didn’t do it after getting home the night before. But then, you’re ready to relax in the bath and just let your mind wander. Hope you’ll end up coming to a decision about what you want to do. There’s so much history. So many nights spent trying to figure out how things might have gone differently. Until it clicks. Minghao was right back then. You both needed that space. Needed the separation to go off and figure yourselves out. Needed to learn who you were as an adult before you could learn to make space for another person. When he left, it cleared a path for you to take chances you never would have otherwise. Maybe it did the same for him. 

That’s how you find yourself outside his door after the bath, the tea in hand because you know that it’s a brand he loves. Or, at least, he did once upon a time. He opens the door too quickly for you to second guess if this is a good idea. Or to wonder if he’s even home. His eyes seem to sparkle at the sight of you and at the tea in your hands.

“You got my care package,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. 

“And figured out who was behind all those wonderful things this past week,” you admit, causing his smile to slip into a more genuine one.

“About time,” he says under his breath.

“Can I come in for a cup of tea?” you ask and he regards you for a moment. That’s always been the hardest part about being around Minghao. He has a way of looking at you and peeling back all the layers. It’s like being naked in front of him. And you’re not as comfortable in front of him as you were once upon a time. It makes you shift on your feet and cast your eyes down.

He steps aside and you let out a sigh of relief at the movement. “Come on in.” 

Stepping inside his apartment almost feels like stepping back in time. Everything about the decoration feels familiar. There are a few things that you do recognize but mostly it’s just because it’s so inescapably him. Everything has a place and it looks like it could be featured in a magazine. But, it’s better than that. Better because it feels lived in, like a home even though it is straight from some aesthetic moodboard. You turn back to him when you recognize a figure that you gave him years ago. It makes your heart constrict that he kept it all this time.

“Did you want to share that tea with me?” he asks, noting the box in your hands.

“Oh,” you say, a little startled back into the present. You look down at your hands and then back to him. “Yeah. Well, if you still like it, that is.” 

“I do, yes,” he says and accepts the box from your hands. “You can go sit down and I’ll bring the tea out in a minute.” 

It’s so impossibly normal and also one of the most abnormal things in the world. The contradictions are making your head hurt, so you just do as Minghao suggests. Sit down on the couch in the living room and sigh. This is the most comfortable couch in the world. That’s another thing you remember about him. Everything fits his aesthetic and it’s never at the expense of comfort. None of that unusable furniture for him. Without even thinking about it, you pick an art magazine off the table. It’s the only thing that seems out of place and there’s a sticky note attached to it with an advanced copy for you to look over scrawled on it. That’s when the cover catches your eye, previously covered in part by the note. Minghao looks back at you, surrounded by some of his artwork. It seems like it’s a profile on him. He must be doing even better than you realized. 

“I hated posing for that,” he says softly as he appears with two cups of tea. 

You start a little in surprise at hearing his voice and drop the magazine back on the table. “I didn’t mean to…”

“There’s no need to be scared,” he says with a low chuckle as you accept the cup. “You can read it if you’d like.” 

“It seems like things are going well for you,” you comment, looking back at the magazine.

“Professionally, sure. Although I’m finding creating a little more difficult lately,” he says and you look at him. 

“Why’s that?” you ask and then shake your head.

“What?” he asks.

“We’re just…talking like no time has passed,” you say.

“I guess I thought that after that party and sending you the food the next day like we…” he starts.

“That was from you?” you ask, clearly surprised.

“Would…what?” he asks, shifting mid thought. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you sure?” you ask with a laugh.

“No, I’m sure. I just thought…well, we talked about it that night,” he says.

“I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I don’t remember exactly what we said that night,” you say and look down.

“Ah,” he says. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Well, I figured we’d talk about everything when there weren’t people around and we could have time to ourselves. Then, I sent the food and just never heard from you,” he says. 

“You could have said something,” you tell him.

“I’m not always very good at that, the saying something part,” he says.

“You’re great at taking care of things I need, though. Everything the past week or so has been so thoughtful,” you say. 

“I know I should have talked to you. I just didn’t know how to start the conversation,” he admits. 

“It’s been a long time,” you say. 

Just as an awkward silence is about to fall over you, Minghao turns to face you. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” 

“Before we go down a path of talking about everything that happened back then and about how much I miss you now, do you think it’s worth it?”

You consider that for a long moment and miss the way Minghao seems to hold his breath. Miss the way he searches your face for a sign of the answer before you give it. Don’t realize how many ways your face has changed in the years since he really knew you. When you meet his eyes, you finally see that he looks unsure. All you can do at first is nod. 

“Is that a yes?” 

You take a deep breath. Ready yourself to jump in with both feet. “I think it’s at least worth having a conversation, yeah.” 

And so that’s what you do. You sit down and talk about all the things you wish you had said back when he left. All the things you could have done differently. All the ways you’ve changed since then. It feels good to say all the things that you’ve kept to yourself over the years. There’s something very open and honest about the way you talk. Somehow even more honest than back when you were in a relationship. Maybe because there’s no fear about the other person’s reaction or feelings. Or maybe it’s just because you’re much more mature now than you were back then. You’re not really sure. Not really sure it matters either. 

This is probably the most you’ve ever heard Minghao say at once. He even admits it’s because he knows that he’s going to have to do things that make him a little uncomfortable if he wants you to consider trying again. He’s also very understanding as he listens to everything. Not defensive when you point out how things could have gone differently. And you know you can’t be defensive when he points out the things you could have done, either. After all this time, you finally realize that it was very much both of you responsible for the way the relationship ended. Yes, Minghao’s the one that accepted a position that would take him far away from you. He’s the one that suggested that maybe the relationship needed to end. But, you also had your role in all of it. You also have to acknowledge that you got distant. Prioritizing other things in your life over him. No longer able to communicate as effectively as you had earlier in the relationship. Both of you had been growing at different rates and in different directions. 

Now, years later, you can realize that it’s something both of you needed. You had to separate to grow in ways you couldn’t do together. Had to be alone to learn the hard lessons, the scary things. To understand what you need and what you want and when to compromise. You’re no longer wearing the rose colored glasses of your early 20s. 

“So, what now?” he asks. 

“What do you want?” you ask and he sighs a little. “I know, I can’t make you be the only one to talk.”

“I want to know if you still have any space for me in your life and…” he says, but trails off.

“In my heart?” you guess.

“Yeah,” he admits softly.

It’s another crossroads. One of those moments you’ll look back on. You know that you need to be a little brave. “I never really got over you. Not fully.”

Minghao’s face brightens at that and he meets your eye with your favorite smile. The soft one that you always felt like belonged only to you. “Me either. I’ve lived all over the world since we broke up and I still get my best inspiration from you.”

That one sentence pushes all the air out of your lungs. Has you entirely speechless. You hold out your hand and he intertwines his fingers through yours without a word. “So we try?” 

“We try,” he agrees. 

Trying is both intimidating and the most comforting thing in the world at the same time. A weird duality just like the man you fell in love with all those years ago. Going on a date with someone that you dated for years and then broke up with years ago is like starting well into the relationship. There are all sorts of things that you already know about each other. Yet, there are also things you can’t assume. Things you may have known once may not be true anymore. Or it’s possible that you remember something that wasn’t true at all, even then. 

So, you start with the most obvious date night activity: dinner. It gives you something to do without being too distracting from a conversation. Minghao surprises you a bit, too. He’s somehow more thoughtful and more open all at once. He still doesn’t always know how to say what he wants to all the time, but he’s trying harder to get his thoughts out. You’re also trying much harder to meet him where he is rather than expecting something that just isn’t who he is. Another byproduct of how much the two of you have grown in your time apart. You can appreciate how well the two of you fit together now. Can appreciate how your individual strengths complement each other. 

After dinner, Minghao starts to suggest going back to the apartment building. You have another suggestion, though. There’s this Art After Dark event that the local art museum runs on the second Saturday of every month that you’ve wanted to check out. Life has been too busy until now. And you also can admit that some part of going felt a little difficult. What if you saw something that Minghao created? Or something that reminded you of him? Or what if there was just a piece of art that you couldn’t understand? You’ve always appreciated the beauty in creation, but some things just went over your head. 

The suggestion makes Minghao’s face light up. He’s heard of the event and somehow hasn’t been since moving back. Not that he’s been back all that long. Still, it’s nice to know that you’ll be able to experience something that’s meaningful to him for the first time. 

The drive over is quiet, mostly only filled with the sounds of the playlist Minghao picked. It’s not uncomfortable, though, far from it. You’re thinking of how easy it is being in his presence again, especially given how long you spent thinking you needed to avoid him. In the passenger seat, Minghao scrolls what looks like the website for the museum. Probably seeing what installations are there currently on display. Or what special events they have for the evening. Either way, you’re happy to let him prepare before getting there. It’ll only help you on top of it because he’ll be able to walk you through everything. (If you think about how pretty his profile looks in the low light, then that’s your business.)

Once you get there, you insist on covering the admission because Minghao paid for dinner without giving you the chance to even offer. It’s nowhere near even, but it’s the least you can do for now. They also check your IDs on the way in because there’s an open bar, apparently. You each grab a drink off of the tray going around and then head into the first room. Live music drifts softly through from somewhere you can���t see. It adds something nice. Something that makes the whole setting somehow more intimate when combined with it being less busy than during normal hours. Minghao doesn’t wait for you to ask him to lead the way, he just knows. You follow close to him, not quite brushing your arm against him. 

This has always been one of your favorite things about Minghao. Watching him at a museum or an art gallery is just special. He walks through and talks about the different artists, the influences, and the history. He can tell you about different periods of an artist’s life and why they might have created the way that they did. There is so much living in his brain that it puts the plaques with each piece of art to shame. Occasionally, you notice someone standing in the area stop and listen to the way he speaks about a piece. It’s endearing to watch him when he’s passionate. Somehow softer and less guarded. Some people might find it sexy, and you do as well. It’s just that you find him cute first. There’s nothing about him that sounds like he’s bragging or talking down about his knowledge. Minghao has always believed that art should be accessible to everyone. That it’s a gift for all people to enjoy. When he speaks about it, that comes across. It’s something familiar, something you’re glad is the same. 

Minghao always wants to know the pieces you’re most drawn to. He wants to let you walk into some of the rooms first so he can watch you experience the art for the first time. Wants to know if you’re drawn to the pieces that he expects. You are, mostly. Usually, you wouldn’t want this much attention on you, especially in a place that isn’t your normal comfort zone. But, Minghao makes you feel at ease. At least, until he starts talking about which pieces of art remind him of you and why. It makes you turn away a little to hide the way your cheeks flush. It just feels so intimate. Feels like he’s baring his soul. Feels like too much for someone who’s been a stranger to you for years. Although, can you really say he’s a stranger? Yes, things change. People grow. You and him have certainly both grown. Maybe you’ve grown into the people you both imagined you’d be back when you figured you had the rest of forever together. 

It’s not until the last room of the museum that you realize Minghao picked the path deliberately. He motions for you to go ahead of him and you assume it’s just so he can see your reactions to the art, like he has in other rooms. And it is, in a way. Just not for the same reason as any other room. Your attention immediately falls on a piece you recognize immediately. Not because you’ve seen it before. It’s because it’s you. Or, you should say that you know it’s meant to be you. It’s that same style of abstract art that you know belongs to Minghao. The same style that feels as familiar as if it was a polaroid of you. That’s not why it takes your breath away. It’s the fact that he must have painted it after you broke up because you haven’t ever seen it before. And here it is, hanging as part of a long term installment in the museum less than 20 minutes from your apartment 

“You knew this was here,” you say. 

“I had to double check,” he says softly as he follows you. Your feet bring you right to the piece without any other thought. 

Minghao uses art as an expression. Says it’s easier for him to convey the hard things that way, like so many artists seem to. Says he’s not good with words, could never be the kind of creative that writes poems or novels with long scenes expressing intense emotions. It’s so clear looking at his art that he doesn’t need to. So clear that his work is the reason people say a picture is worth a thousand words. You think you could have ten thousand words and still need more with this piece. And most of his pieces, honestly. You yearn to reach out and run your fingers along the canvas, to trace the lines that he uses. Instead, you take in each color and each stroke. It causes conversations from when you were both younger to come flooding back. You remember lying in bed and listening to him talk about his process. About when he brought something to the foreground versus leaving it in the back. About the choice to use a vibrant palette or something more muted and neutral. About how he could play with the different colors to express each emotion. In saying all of that, you remember hearing what he couldn’t say. It’s funny, in hindsight, to think about how Minghao always said he struggled with emotions. He just says what he needs to in a different way.

His feelings are crystal clear to you in this piece. The representation of you is front and center. The first thing your eye lands on when you look at it. Everything else is in the background. Like he’s saying that you’re the center of the universe in this piece. The colors tell you just as much. They’re rich with his affection. With tenderness and forgiveness. With yearning. Like a hand reaching out to pull you in. You even think he might have put a version of himself in the background, muted to throw you into sharper relief. It’s beautiful and passionate and incredibly raw. You may need to know him to see the last bit. It’s only then that you see the date on the piece. Just over a year ago, probably after you had seen him the last time before he popped up at the party in your building. 

Finally, you turn to him and find his eyes on you. Studying you, looking for answers before you give them again. And you see the nerves there. He’s grown so much, but he knows you have too. Doesn’t presume to know everything about you anymore. Your mouth curves into the most genuine smile. “It’s amazing, Hao. I don’t even know what to say.” 

“You like it?” he asks, a little less sure of himself than you’re used to. 

“I love it,” you assure him and turn back to it. “It might be one of the most expressive pieces of yours I’ve ever seen.” 

“I know I shouldn’t have been drawing inspiration from you, but I couldn’t stop myself after I saw you that time a year ago,” he says, confirming what you thought. “I was halfway through the painting before I realized it.” 

“No matter what, I will always be honored to inspire you.” 

“That’s a relief.” 

“You know, you’re much better at expressing your feelings than you think,” you tell him, looking over to see his reaction. His face is soft. 

“Only if you remember how to read it,” he says. 

“It’s all coming back to me,” you say and delight in the way he smiles. 

Minghao is a study in contrasts. He’s every bit of what you think about when thinking of an artist. Introverted, intelligent in a way not everyone can appreciate, thoughtful, sometimes a little intimidating to approach. If you don’t know him, he could seem cold or detached. When you do know him, though, he’s anything but cold. Certainly not intimidating. Although he can be guarded, he’s an open book to the people closest to him. He’s incredibly soft and caring. Willing to let all his defenses fall away for the right person. 

He takes hold of your hand, even though he’s not always one to seek out physical touch in that way. Not in public. “I want to give this another try. We’ve both grown a lot over the past years. You don’t have to make a decision now. All I want to know now is if you’ll be my Valentine.”

The way he says it doesn’t really sound like a question. It’s also infinitely more direct than you’re used to. You can’t help the teasing look. “That’s so corny.” 

The smile you get in response is worth it. Minghao only shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s worth it.”

“Yes, Hao, I would love to be your Valentine,” you say, fighting a bit of the urge to say that you’ll just be his again. 

Even though you know that rushing back into something is the last thing you need to do, you’re still excited. Feel lighter than you have in ages. It’s kind of like autopilot for the rest of the time you spend at the museum. And if it’s the best date you’ve been on in years, well that’s your business. It’s also your business if you get back to your apartment that night and think about all the things that happened that day.

Sunday dawns and the first thought in your mind is Minghao. Not exactly surprising after spending a whole day with him instead of continuing to avoid him. Yet, it’s not quite what you’re expecting, either. After years of protecting your heart, it shouldn’t be this easy to open up to him again. That thought does make you pause, just for a second. Then, you think about all the things you managed to cover just in one day together. There’s still plenty to talk about, but you can’t deny the obvious. You’re both so willing to be open and vulnerable. Willing to accept your faults to make sure things are different if you give it another shot. There’s definitely something to be said that he’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up. (And the last thing you thought about before falling asleep.)

It’s time to do things differently. Time to not overthink everything. You’re older and wiser now. Feel like you can trust your gut and the vibes now with more life experience. Instead of giving yourself time to second guess, you send a text to Minghao to ask if he wants to come over. It’s one of those catch up days. You need to grocery shop and run some errands, do some laundry, and do a little cleaning. Minghao loves quality time, something still true now. It’s nothing exciting, though, and you give him plenty of space to say no without it being an issue. All he asks is what time he should come over and if he should eat breakfast first. 

Which is exactly how he ends up at your apartment barely 20 minutes later.

Plenty changes and just as much stays the same. Minghao can cook, he never starves. It’s just not his favorite thing to do if left to his own devices. You offer to make him breakfast if he’s going to keep you company during a bunch of errands. While you cook, he keeps himself busy making tea for himself and coffee for you. Doesn’t have to ask how you like it since he covered your coffees for the past week at the shop by your work. Since Minghao likes acts of service just as much as quality time, he empties your dishwasher while you’re finishing up breakfast and tidies up around the kitchen behind you. There’s so much comfort in falling into patterns like that, even though it feels entirely different than before. 

Breakfast passes quickly and Minghao helps motivate you out the door. Points out the sooner you get things out of the way, the sooner you can come back and relax. You’re not shy in telling him that he makes an excellent point. The praise falls easily from your lips and you delight in the way it causes him to smile shyly. Some things really never change and you’ll never tire of pulling that out of him. 

Several hours later, you’re done with all your errands (in record time, no less, even though you took care of getting things for him as well). Back at your apartment, Minghao unloads your groceries for you along with the light lunch he insisted that you pick up. It should be scary to see him making himself at home in your life again. It’s not, though. It just fills you with an endless amount of warmth. You can’t help the way your heart flutters at him setting your food out on the table and calling for you to come join him before it’s back to checking things off your little list for the day. He just seems so comfortable helping you and sharing in your space. Content to let you set the pace and clearly pleased you texted to invite him over. 

After lunch, Minghao shoos you off to get your laundry started while he tidies up in the kitchen and living area. He’s not a clean freak by any stretch. Although he does like for everything to be in its place. You know he’s only doing it now to help you because he doesn’t mind. The warmth is going to be too much at this rate. You let yourself have hearts in your eyes over him for a second before disappearing into your bedroom to gather your laundry. 

Once you have your clothes in the washing machine, Minghao says he needs to get something from his apartment and returns with his sketch pad. He’s got a few ideas that he wants to plan out and hopes it’s fine to do with in your living room. You agree as long as he doesn’t mind you rotting away with your TV obsession of the moment. It’s in those quiet moments that you get the most answers. The comfort of being in a space with him, not saying much and yet knowing you could. Sometimes you feel like you have to fill a silence to avoid any awkward pauses. There’s this sense of anxiety about what the other person is thinking, even if you know it’s probably not about you. It’s not the case with him. Which tells you all you really need to know, doesn’t it? No matter how hard you’ve tried over the years to find someone else, to date and have it something more, it’s never been like this with anyone but him. 

You’re scared of what comes next. Scared of being hurt. Yet, this feels like one of those chances you just have to take.

The next week goes something like the weekend. You spend a lot of your free time with Minghao. Sharing all the things that have happened over the years. It’s easy to talk about shared friends or new ones. Not quite as easy to talk about all the work updates, though it feels just as important. The two of you stay up late having hard conversations in the quiet hours of the night. Talking about everything that’s different. Neither of you even shy away from past relationships. It doesn’t even feel that difficult. You both had lives since you broke up and those lives shaped you into these people now. Twice, he even shows up for lunch to get you out of the building for a break. The looks from your coworkers are both knowing and happy. Everything feels like it’s going toward the obvious conclusion. 

Somewhere in between all the time spent with Minghao, you also carve out time for dinner with your best friend. Need to carve out the time, you think, to get her opinion. She’s been with you since just before the relationship ended. Even though you know that you can make decisions for yourself, it feels important to get an outside perspective. The last thing you want is to rush back into something and end up in the same place as the first time. If nothing else, you know she’ll ask you the difficult questions to make you think. Make you answer if you’ve really thought out what a second chance for the two of you looks like. If you’re doing this because you want this now, in 2025, for if you’re just holding onto a past that felt comfortable. It can be easy to just stay in a bubble without considering what that looks like when the bubble breaks. When you have to go exist together in public or with friends, not just in your own little world.

She does all those things and is adamant: this isn’t like before. Tells you that you don’t need her to tell you what you already know. Instead of justifying everything that happened years ago, you acknowledge. You don’t make excuses because there aren’t any to make. Sometimes things don’t work. You and Minghao are different people now than you were years ago. Somehow, against all odds, you’ve grown into different people that have even better compatibility than you did when you were younger. As cliche as it is, he seems like your right person at the wrong time and the universe is telling you to hit the replay button now. It’s all the confirmation you need. You’re going to dive in and feel confident he’ll be there to catch you. 

By the time Valentine’s Day comes around, you’re both completely at peace and nervous for the date itself. It’s been the theme of the last week. Another set of contrasts that somehow work. You trust Minghao, more than you expect. But, you haven’t had a date for Valentine’s since just after you and him broke up. And it was a disaster. So, you’re trying not to set your hopes to an unrealistic level. 

But, he quickly proves that you don’t have anything to worry about. Before work, he shows up with flowers, coffee, and a pastry from a shop nearby. It’s really difficult not to just call out from work and spend the day with him. Admitting that makes him laugh and press a gentle kiss to your temple. It’s so sweet that you want to melt. Sadly, you have to go to work and he’s got two different meetings that he can’t miss, one with a museum curator and another with a prospective client. So, he’ll see you after work as planned. 

Work seems to drag and more than once, you consider leaving early. Probably would too if Minghao hadn’t been adamant that you couldn’t come by his place until after work. It makes you pout a little, which, in turn, makes Mingyu laugh at you when he stops by your desk. He’s just happy he doesn’t have to avoid bringing up Minghao anymore since they’ve been in touch the whole time. You’re so happy looking forward to the date that you can’t even get mad at your friend. Besides, it can’t have been an easy spot to be in all this time. 

Minghao takes your breath away when you actually show up after work. 

After quickly changing out of work clothes, you’re on his doorstep, waiting for him to answer. The second you step inside, you see why he had you wait. He’s decorated the entire space in a way he knows you’ll love. All your favorite colors and little things that are cheesy, but also adorable. There are also several paintings, both old and newer, that you know you inspired displayed around the living area. It feels like the perfect space to celebrate with him. All you can do is wrap your arms around him. He’s quick to pull you tight against him. There’s so much emotion. 

“The food is already on the way,” he says when you pull away from him. “Thank you for paying, even though you didn’t need to.” 

“You’ve been paying for everything. It’s my turn,” you say and smile, looking around his apartment. “And thank you for this. I know it’s not usually your style.”

“You like it. That’s all that matters,” he says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

“Can I say something that’s maybe too honest?” you ask.

Minghao’s gaze on you is soft. “To me? Always.”

“I do like it, but I think I would like anything because I just like you. A lot more than I realized,” you say and watch him. Every part of you wants to look away. You already feel naked with his gaze on you when you’re not confessing to your feelings. 

Minghao reaches for your hand to pull you into him again. Lets the silence settle around you for a moment. He speaks without releasing you. “That’s good because I’m very much in love with you. So I’m glad you like me so much.”

That makes you pull away, eyes wide. “You’re in love with me? You’re sure?” 

“Does that scare you?” he asks, studying your face the same way he studies his favorite artwork.

The answer is on the tip of your tongue before you even realize it. “No.” 

“You don’t have to know yet. You don’t have to love me back at all if it’s not right for you. But, I’m sure. It’s always been you for me and it’s always going to be you for me. I’m not going to waste a second chance by not telling you how I feel.” 

It’s overwhelming in so many ways. The Minghao you loved years ago couldn’t express himself this easily. It was you that had to be good at using your words and interpreting him through actions. At the time, you thought it was fine. Now, seeing him be strong for both of you, you realize that sometimes it’s nice to hear exactly what he’s thinking. It’s nice to just know without having to read his actions. It’s also his way of showing you that things are different. That he’s going to be the partner you need and he’s going to make sure both of you are the best versions of yourself. Somehow that simple statement, along with everything he’s done the past week, are the final piece. You know this is going to be a partnership and you know you’re in it. Whatever happens, happens. 

Dinner passes quickly and the food is great, like you know it will be. It’s also nice not to have to cook or clean anything up. Even nicer to have the space to enjoy each other’s company without going out to dinner like every other couple for the holiday. And Minghao clearly enjoyed setting his table just right for the two of you. After dinner, you suggest watching something. Minghao lets you pick and the two of you settle onto his couch. Without overthinking it, you adjust to put your legs over his lap. He lets you get comfortable before putting his own hands back down and absently tracing patterns into the fabric of your pants. For a fleeting moment, you imagine him using your body as a canvas. Shaking your head to clear the thought, you focus back on the TV.

After a while, you start to feel a little uncomfortable. Not with your legs in Minghao’s laps. That’s providing a lot of comfort. You’re stretching out your neck and rolling your shoulders without realizing it. It’s been a long week at work with too much time hunched over a computer. 

“Do you want a massage?” Minghao asks, interrupting the show. You look over at him with raised eyebrows. “You keep rubbing your neck and rolling your shoulders.”

“Of course you noticed,” you say with a chuckle. 

“Maybe a massage would help,” he offers again. 

You bite your lip in consideration. You haven’t so much as kissed Minghao since you started to spend time together again (since you’re ignoring any drunk kiss that happened at Soyoon’s party for New Year’s Eve). It’s only been a kiss to the cheek here or a temple kiss there. This is definitely more than that. You want to go slow, but you also miss the way he feels. You remember the massages after long nights of studying. 

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you say. 

The warmth in his eyes when you agree is familiar. Older and wiser, sure, but still familiar. He gets up off the couch and reaches a hand to you. “Come on, let’s go into the bedroom so it’s more comfortable.”

You place your hand into his and follow him. It’s the first time you’ve seen his bedroom and it’s so simple. A few pieces of his art sit in the corner. For the most part, you can tell he only uses the space to sleep.

“I’m going to get some lotion. You can get settled,” he says and places a soft kiss on your temple. 

Once he disappears, you make a decision. You remove your shirt and bra so that your back is bare when you lay down on his bed. You settle on the bed with your head up by the pillow so that you can collect part of his sheet around your chest. It’s a little awkward, being half-naked and wondering how to position yourself. It only takes Minghao a few moments before he’s coming back through the bedroom door. His breath catches when he sees you. 

“I hope this is okay,” you say, carefully turning to look at him. “My shoulders and neck are so tense that I wanted you to be able to reach them easily.”

He gathers himself quickly and crosses over to his bed. Sits down next to your hip and runs a hand gently across your back. Like he’s testing if you’re actually there. “As long as you’re comfortable, then I’m happy.” 

“I am, yeah,” you say softly. 

“Okay, then let me take care of you,” he says, just as soft.

Without another word, he moves to straddle your body, using his knees on either side of you to hold the majority of his weight. Gently, he brushes your hair off your neck and over to the side. It’s enough to make you sigh and close your eyes. You hear him open the lotion to put some into his hands. Always so thoughtful, he warms it before putting his hands on your back. He starts just below your shoulders and works his way up, feeling for knots and increasing the pressure as needed. Barely a minute passes and you already feel like you could melt into his mattress. It’s definitely not just the release of tension that has you so comfortable that you could drift into sleep. No, it’s the person with his hands on you. It’s the care he shows with each movement. 

Before long, you really are drifting in between the land of being fully awake and asleep. It’s not that you could fall asleep on him. You still feel each movement. You’re just incredibly relaxed. Each of your muscles melt under the gentle touch of his nimble fingers. Even when he digs into a knot, it still feels relaxing. Professionals should be thankful that he took up art instead because he could put them all to shame. Though, admittedly, you’re biased. And you haven’t ever found the thought of a stranger massaging you to be that relaxing. There’s always the initial awkwardness before settling in. None of that happens with the person you know you trust more than yourself. 

He bends down to your ear and his breath alerts you before he says anything. “Going to fall asleep on me, sweetheart?”

His tone is light, almost teasing. It’s also confident, but not in the cocky way. He’s proud of the way he can relax you so easily. Your brain is a little foggy and maybe that’s also a good thing. You turn towards his voice and wind your arm up so that you can place a hand on the back of his head. His eyes aren’t just filled with warmth when they meet yours anymore. There’s desire there now, too, the same desire building within you. You pull him towards you and kiss him. Slow, almost lazy, at first. It quickly deepens into something more. 

It’s an awkward position, though. Minghao moves off of your back and you take the chance to also reposition, turning over and sitting up. There’s no awkwardness anymore and you don’t bother pulling the sheet with you when you face him. He takes a second to drink you in. Swallows hard as his eyes travel over your chest. In the next moment, he pulls you toward him so that he can kiss you again. You position your legs on either side of his hips to allow you to press tight against him. His kiss is urgent, tongue tangling with your own as the two of you meld into one. You wind one of your hands into his hair, only playing with the ends of it at first, wrapping pieces around your fingers. 

Minghao pulls back like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Both of your chests rise and fall quickly to catch your breath. “Are you sure?”

“That I want this?” you clarify.

“That you want this with me,” he says, still a little breathless. 

“Yes,” you say. 

“Are you really sure?” he asks again. He’s checking for consent and also giving you an out.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you confirm. 

You think that he’s leaning back in so that he can kiss you again. Until he uses a hand to tilt your head to one side and kisses along your jaw. He carries his kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. Like he’s mapping every inch of your body. Committing it to memory or maybe making up for the lost years. When you were younger, you found it difficult to accept this kind of attention. Always worrying there was some kind of imbalance. Now, all you can do is moan out your appreciation for the way Minghao worships every inch of your skin. You’re not in a rush and he’s clearly not either. You run your hands through his hair, allowing your nails to scrape lightly against his scalp and shudder at the way he moans into your skin. Do it again just to feel the way his lips vibrate. 

His hands find their way to your hips and he grips hard. Anchoring you in place and also checking to make sure it’s all real. That it’s all happening. That none of this is another one of his dreams. Every time you run your nails along his scalp, it’s a reminder that it is happening. That the two of you really have found your way back to something. In that moment, he knows that he’ll risk his heart to not spend the rest of his life wondering what could have happened. Be vulnerable now and hope it’ll work out. 

Spurred on by the soft sounds falling from your lips, Minghao moves from your collarbones down to the hollow between your breasts. You arch into his mouth and dig into his scalp, just for a second. It’s the only thing he needs to feel. Quickly, he moves his mouth over to your nipple, taking it into his mouth. Swirling around it and nipping it lightly. He moves one of his hands from your hip to take the other nipple between his fingers. Can’t have either feeling left out. It’s embarrassing how much it turns you on, like you’re some kind of horny teenager. His fingers are so nimble, so intentional in the way they tease you that you can’t help it. He swaps his mouth to your other nipple, replacing his fingers. You’re not sure what you want more.

This time, you pull back. Still kind of breathing shallowly even though you hadn’t been kissing him. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, and a little concerned. You’re quick to reassure him, hands moving to the hem of his shirt. “Can I? I don’t want to be the only half naked one anymore?”

“Of course,” he says with a smile. 

You pull the shirt up and over his head, thankful that he’s not overdressed to make it more complicated. For a second, the sight of him renders you speechless. Gently, you run your finger along his chest and down the muscles of his stomach that weren’t there when you dated him last time. The way he shudders under your touch only spurs you on. There’s a scar along his side that you don’t remember. It’s smooth to the touch, just slightly raised.

“Beautiful,” you whisper confidently. 

He can’t stand it anymore. He takes your face in his hands and pulls you into him. Kisses you again, slowly but with so much intensity that it makes your heart skip several beats. You still fit in with him like you were made for each other. He uses the kiss to shift both of your bodies and disentangle your legs. Dips you backwards until your head hits the pillow without his lips leaving yours. Once you’re lying back, though, he breaks the kiss again. Resumes kissing down your body. Makes sure to kiss away any insecurities in the process. Whispers praise into your skin that feel like a salve. This is Minghao, your Minghao. You’re safe with him. Loved. Cherished. Supported. It’s overwhelming to feel all of that come rushing back after years spent apart looking for it in someone else. Of course it’s always been him. 

Normally you’re somewhat ticklish, and you do have to fight a little nervous laugh as he kisses down your stomach, especially when his face is so close that you can feel his eyelashes against your skin. But, there really isn’t anything funny about this. Not when Minghao looks up at you while kissing your body. Seems to be mapping your reactions just as much as your skin. He pauses with his hands on your pants, silently asking for permission. Checking in to make sure that you’re still okay with this. You nod and he kisses your stomach again before unbuttoning your pants. Pulls your pants and underwear down in one fluid motion. He takes a moment to appreciate you, laid out before him. Any remaining nerves disappear. You’ve never seen someone look at you with that much love in your life. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Until Minghao resumes kissing down your body and it’s a different kind of overwhelming. His breath ghosts across your core as he places slow, open mouthed kisses along your thighs. 

Nothing has really happened, but by the time he settles between your legs, you’re already worked up. Wound so tightly that you think he could have you coming with just a touch. You consider if that would be too fast for half a second before catching sight of Minghao. He looks up at you, hair falling into his eyes, and you don’t care what happens. Don’t care how fast anything happens because it’s him. Can hardly believe that this beautiful person wants to put your needs before his own. His eyes narrow like a siren, full of focus and desire, and it takes your breath away.

“I don’t want you to hold back,” he says. “I’ve been waiting years to taste you again.”

“You wha - fuck,” you hiss out. 

He effectively short circuits your brain with one move. He doesn’t bother teasing you, just goes straight to licking into your wet cunt. Uses two fingers to spread your lips open so that he has better access. There’s no concern for building up to something. He wants to taste you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. When his nose hits your clit, it makes you groan out and snap your thighs around his face. His groan in response vibrates through your pussy. Makes him use his thumb to rub circles on your clit without slowing his speed licking into you. It’s entirely too overwhelming in the best way. In just moments, Minghao has you writhing underneath him, gripping onto anything within your reach. His hair. The sheets. The pillow. Anything. The tension builds entirely too fast and you’re not really ready for it to be over. Not ready to have it end. 

You’re not sure if he has the same thought or not, but Minghao pulls back to look at you. The moan at the sight of your wetness all over his lips and chin is immediate. Somehow it makes him even sexier and you can’t take your eyes off him. Can’t look away as he wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. With careful movements, he pulls himself up your body and lies next to you on his side to face you. Winds an arm under your neck. Places two of his fingers against your mouth and you suck them in without a thought. Swirl your tongue around his slender fingers with your eyes locked on his. Smile at the way it seems to be affecting him. With what looks like regret on his face, he pulls his fingers from your mouth and moves his hand down between your legs. Runs his middle finger up your still wet folds before inserting it. 

“Minghao, fuck, you can’t just…” you start, only to have your words cut off. 

You’re kissing again and it’s the most heated yet. The taste of you lingers on his lips. Seems to mark him as yours. You realize that maybe he’s not teasing you because he meant what he said. He’s been waiting too long for this to go slow with you. There’s plenty of time to slow down later. This is what both of you need now. He slides another finger into your pussy and pumps even faster. Doesn’t let you pull away from the kiss, catching every sound you make and adding his own sounds. The tension builds, even faster than before. In no time at all, you’re coming all over his fingers. Gasping for breath as you break the kiss and he gently pumps into you to guide you through the orgasm. 

When you can catch your breath, you look over at Minghao. Appreciate the way he just watches you. He gently brushes a piece of hair out of your face and then leans in for a soft kiss. You’re not letting him get away with that, though. Not now. Not when he just had you coming harder than you can remember in a long time. You knock the kiss up in intensity and he lets you lead. Lets you set the pace and meets every kiss with the exact right amount of pressure. Your hands are everywhere on him while you kiss, exploring all the lines and the muscles that feel a little foreign. The only obvious sign of the passage of time.

He pulls back just long enough so that he can pull his pants and briefs off. Doesn’t even look where he tosses them in the room. All he can think of is connecting his lips with yours again. About making up for all the years in between, even if you both know that you needed that time apart to find your way back. You wind your hand down between your bodies and grip his dick in your hand. Slowly run your thumb over the tip and find there’s already precum there. It fills you with so much satisfaction to know that he’s as turned on as you are. It’s a little diary, but you spit quickly in your hand. You run your hand up and down his cock a few times, twisting your fist around him. Checking to see what kind of pressure and speed he likes. 

“I just want…fuck, sweetheart,” he groans out as you run your thumb across his tip again.

“What do you want, Hao?” you ask, making your eyes as big and innocent as possible.

“I want to be inside you, want to feel you around me,” he says and your breath catches. “I don’t want to cum from a handjob like some teenager.”

“Fuck,” you say with a nod. “Yes, please, yes.”

He rolls away from you for a second to reach for his nightstand and returns with a condom and some lube. Rips the condom open with his teeth and then rolls it onto his cock. You’re about to ask him how he wants you when he pulls back and spreads your legs open. He looks at you as he lines himself up at your entrance. For a moment, he just looks at you. Then, he pours some of the lube onto the condom. Makes sure this is going to feel good for you.

“I want to watch you fall apart,” he says, voice thick with desire.

“Please,” you say softly. “I need to feel you, Hao.” 

Minghao lines himself up and presses his tip against your entrance. You’re a little sensitive from his tongue and his fingers. Still wet from that and from the intensity of the kisses afterwards. You wrap your legs around his waist as he angles into you. He leans forward, arms on either side of you so that you’re caged in. He’s sliding in so slowly, so carefully. It’s the first time he’s even come close to teasing you. Or maybe it’s just so that he can draw it out. Either way, you want him buried inside you. Can’t stop from wrapping your legs tighter around him. It’s hard to have him looking at you with so much intensity. So much eye contact. You catch the chuckle at your impatience with your lips. 

It works, though. He bottoms out with one final thrust and you would scream it if not for his lips on yours. You let him set the pace even though it’s just slower than you want. The sensitivity just makes everything feel more intense. Each time either of you breaks the kiss to catch a breath, your eyes are on each other. Uttering praise and promises into the space between the two of you. More Minghao than you, which is incredible. A steady stream of both coherent and incoherent thoughts. Somehow it all makes sense to both of you. All seems like it’s exactly right. And true to his word, when the tension builds in your body again, Minghao breaks the kiss entirely. Watches the way your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open. Appreciates every sound you make. Later he’ll tell you that he’s never seen anything more beautiful than you in that moment. For now, all he can do is watch and pick up his own pace. He wants to follow right behind you.

There’s less build up this time when you fall over the edge, toes curling and back arching. It’s even more intense too, something you didn’t think was possible. Hazily, you feel Minghao’s thrusts falter in their speed as he comes hard just after you. You try to take over the rhythm, but your body feels spent. After his final thrust, he offsets his weight so he’s not lying fully on top of you without pulling out either. Your breathing syncs up with his as you come back to the bedroom and the reality of what just happened. 

You can’t help yourself. His hair is a little wet with sweat and you reach out to brush it away. Think about how this may be your favorite hairstyle he’s ever had. He catches your hand before you even realize his eyes are on you and he kisses your palm. It makes you smile at the care in his eyes. When he releases your hand he props himself up to slowly ease out of you. You figure that you should get up as well before he presses your shoulder gently down.

“I’ve got you,” he says. 

And he does, doesn’t he? He’s shown you with his actions and even followed it up with his words. He does have you and you think he’ll probably always be there. You hear the water running from the attached bathroom and then watch him return with a wet washcloth. The bright light behind him highlights his silhouette like an angel. That’s not where it stops, though. Instead of letting you clean yourself up, he sits on the bed and runs the cloth carefully over your body. It makes your heart hurt to have him taking care of you like this, so tender and full of such pure affection. Once he finishes, he tosses the washcloth over to the nightstand. You pull him into you so that you can cuddle close. 

Even though you could probably stay like that for the rest of the night, you know that you either need to change the sheets or figure something out. You run a hand over his arm thoughtfully. That’s when it hits you and you turn your face to his. “Do you wanna go sleep in my bed with me and we can deal with your bed tomorrow?”

His laugh is light, easy. “Inviting me to bed on the second date, what will the neighbors say?” 

You swat at his arm without any real force. “That you’re incredibly lucky, I expect.”

“They’re right about that,” he says, any teasing gone in the completely honest statement. It’s a little too much for you, at least for a minute. Minghao, in his infinite wisdom, lets you have the moment. He moves from the bed and helps you up with him. Even helps you track down your clothing that’s gotten more scattered than you realize. 

It’s so easy to fall back into a rhythm with him even though it feels entirely different. Familiar and new. Fitting for the enigma that is the man before you. Which is when it hits you, just as he’s reaching the door to the hallway. Minghao stops to turn around and see why you’re not right behind him. 

“Are you coming? I don’t really want to have to break into your place,” he says with another light laugh.

“Been working on your cat burglar skills during the past few years, have you?” you joke back and he just shakes his head. Closes the space between you and collects you into his arms.

“I think that’s your wishful thinking about wanting a cat,” he says and you laugh.

“Could be,” you concede.

“Shall we?” he asks when he releases you.

“Just a second,” you say and he regards you with clear curiosity. “Earlier you told me that you loved me and…”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly. You mistake it for him thinking you don’t feel the same.

“No, I need to say something,” you say and he swallows anything else. “I love you, too.”

“I know,” he says with a smile that has you rolling your eyes. Of course he knows. You’re entirely smitten and once again, the last one to know. “And how lucky am I to have someone who loves me like you do as a Valentine? To be loved by someone that I love as much as I love you?” 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hao.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day. Here’s to a lifetime more of these.”

“I can’t wait.”

[luvst4rc0r3]

Valentine’s Day Dates!!!

Sevika, Jinx, Ambessa, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Mel, Vander, Silco

Valentine’s day with them!

SILCO

You and Silco never made a big deal out of things like Valentine’s Day. Or birthdays. Or promotions. Achievements were acknowledged with a nod, maybe a quiet “Well done,” but that was the extent of it. The only exception was your anniversary, and even then, it was just a small gift, exchanged without ceremony before life moved on as usual.

So, when the 14th of February rolled around, you didn’t think twice about it.

The day was like any other—long, exhausting, filled with the usual dealings of the Lanes. By the time you got back to Silco’s office, all you wanted was to sit down, maybe steal a sip of his whiskey, and let the rest of the world fade away.

But the moment you stepped inside, you knew something was different.

The usual scent of damp stone and cigars was laced with something richer—spiced, warm. The office was dimly lit, the sharp glow of the fish tanks casting flickering light over the walls. Silco stood by his desk, sleeves rolled up, a cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers. And on the table…

Your eyes widened.

There was food. Real food, not just the quick, thoughtless meals you both shoved down between business dealings. Two plates, wine glasses filled, and something sweet tucked to the side, like an afterthought. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was more effort than either of you had ever put into a day like this.

You turned to Silco, skeptical. “What is this?”

He exhaled slowly, tapping his cigarette into a nearby tray. “A meal.”

You arched a brow. “A meal?”

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, but close enough. “A meal. With you. No business. No interruptions.” He stepped closer, tilting his head. “Unless, of course, you’d rather I pretend this never happened.”

You blinked.

Silco didn’t do things like this. He didn’t entertain sentiment for the sake of it, didn’t indulge in traditions that meant nothing to him. And yet, here he was.

He must have seen the surprise on your face because he scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“Like I’ve grown a second head.”

You laughed, stepping forward, fingers grazing the edge of the table. “I just wasn’t expecting…” You gestured vaguely at the scene before you.

He hummed. “You never expect much from me.”

There was no bitterness in his tone, just a quiet observation. You met his gaze, something tight twisting in your chest.

“I never need to,” you admitted softly.

Because even without celebrations, without grand gestures, he was always there. In the way he ensured you were safe. In the way his hand lingered at your back when you walked together. In the way he listened, even when he pretended not to.

But this… this was something else entirely.

Silco studied you for a moment longer before gesturing to the chair. “Sit.”

You did. The food was simple but good, the wine smooth, the atmosphere… different. Comfortable in a way that neither of you usually allowed.

At some point, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours before settling over them completely. No words, no explanations—just the warmth of his touch, a silent understanding passing between you.

Maybe you didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. Maybe this was a one-time thing.

But tonight, it was enough.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

VANDER

You understood why Vander couldn’t take you out tonight. The Last Drop was packed, busier than you’d ever seen it. Every seat was filled, tankards clashed together in celebration, and coin exchanged hands faster than a Zaunite could blink. It was good for business, for the people, but… it stung just a little.

He’d promised you a night out. Something simple—just the two of you, away from the noise and chaos of the Lanes. But as the hours passed and the rush never slowed, you knew the night wasn’t going to end the way you’d hoped.

So, you sat at the bar, nursing a drink, watching Vander move from table to table, his laughter blending with the chatter of the crowd. He caught your eye a few times, his expression apologetic, but you just smiled and shook your head. You understood.

You didn’t even remember when sleep took you. One minute, you were swirling the last drops of your drink in the glass, the next, warmth surrounded you. The smell of something rich and savory drifted into your senses, pulling you from the depths of sleep.

Blinking, you realized you weren’t at the bar anymore. Instead, you were curled up on the worn-out couch in Vander’s home, a blanket draped over you. Soft candlelight flickered against the walls, and laughter—bright, full of love—filled the room.

Pushing yourself up, you turned towards the source of the noise.

Vander stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, moving with ease as he stirred something in a pot. Vi and Powder were setting the table, bickering over where the plates should go, while Mylo and Claggor handled some kind of bread, arguing about whether it was “too burnt” or “just crispy enough.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Look who’s finally awake,” Vander rumbled, turning toward you with a sheepish smile. His arms were dusted with flour, his apron slightly askew. “Was startin’ to think I’d have to carry you to the table.”

Your heart clenched in the best way.

“You… did all this?” Your voice was thick with emotion as you looked around. The table was set, the food smelled incredible, and the warmth of home settled deep in your bones.

“We felt bad you didn’t get your fancy date,” Vi admitted, hands on her hips. “So, we brought the fancy date to you.”

“Minus the fancy,” Mylo added.

“Hey, I folded the napkins all pretty-like,” Powder huffed, pointing at the messily crumpled napkins.

Claggor grinned. “They look great, Pow.”

Vander walked over, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Didn’t want the night to end without showin’ you how much you mean to us.” His voice was low, warm. “To me.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled up at him. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

He chuckled. “Of course I did.”

The kids were already pulling you toward the table, eager to show off their work. The food was simple but filled with love, laughter bouncing between the walls of the home you shared.

Maybe you didn’t get your quiet, romantic evening out. But you had something better—a family, a home, and a man who loved you enough to turn a missed date into a night you’d never forget.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

MEL

A folded note rests on your bedside table in the early morning light—a simple message in elegant handwriting:

“Meet me where forgotten dreams glow tonight. – Mel”

That single line tugs at your curiosity all day. As dusk falls, you follow her cryptic invitation through the maze of back alleys and quiet streets of the city—a route Mel always seemed to know, one that bypasses the neon glare for something a little more raw and real.

You arrive at a long-forgotten courtyard, tucked away behind crumbling brick walls and overgrown ivy. There, under a canopy of soft, flickering lanterns, stands Mel. Clad in a blend of edgy sophistication—a tailored jacket paired with vintage boots and just enough mystery in her eyes—she radiates an aura of rebellion and grace.

A gentle smile plays on her lips as she greets you. “I know the world expects grand gestures,” she begins, her voice low and playful, “but I thought tonight we could have something more…authentic.”

Mel has transformed this hidden nook into a secret haven. A small table is set for two with mismatched vintage chairs, the surface adorned with wildflowers that seem to have sprung from the very soul of the place. The soft strains of a soulful melody float in the air from a well-worn record player, setting the tone for an evening that feels both intimate and adventurous.

As you settle into the cozy setup, Mel shares snippets of her day—stories of chasing the city’s pulse, of diving into forgotten corners to uncover hidden beauty. “I spend so much time chasing after chaos,” she admits with a half-smile, “but tonight, I’m chasing something real.” There’s a sincerity there that warms you more than any candlelight.

Between bites of delectable treats and quiet laughter, the city’s relentless pace seems to melt away. When the record changes and the music grows softer, Mel leads you along a narrow staircase to a rooftop overlooking a tapestry of twinkling city lights. There, with the hum of urban life far below and a blanket of stars overhead, she stops and turns to face you.

“Sometimes,” she whispers, drawing you close, “the most unexpected paths lead to the most enchanting destinations.” In that suspended moment, you feel the promise of something genuine—a love that thrives in the hidden spaces between chaos and calm.

And as you share a tender kiss beneath the night sky, you realize that Mel’s Valentine’s Day isn’t about elaborate plans or public displays. It’s about crafting a secret escape where every heartbeat, every whispered word, is a reminder that even in a tumultuous world, love finds a way to glow.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

EKKO

In the heart of Zaun, Ekko’s day always felt like a race against time—and today was no exception. Amid the clatter of tools and the hum of his latest gadget, tiny glowing orbs—the fire lights—danced erratically around his cluttered workshop. Their flickering sparks illuminated his workbench as he fine-tuned a device meant to bend time itself.

So absorbed was he in his work that he almost forgot what day it was. That is, until a particularly bright fire light zipped up beside him and chirped, “Hey, Ekko! It’s Valentine’s Day!”

Startled, he paused mid-adjustment. In an instant, the other fire lights converged into a sparkling, playful swarm. Their lights blinked in what you could almost call a chorus of mischief. One of them—its voice soft but insistent—seemed to say, “We’ve got this, boss. You wood take care of yourself tonight—and go on your date!”

Ekko blinked, a sheepish grin breaking through. How could he have been so wrapped up in keeping these little sparks safe that he’d lost track of the day meant for him and you? With a few quick taps on a panel, he set the fire lights to “self-manage” mode (they’d proven they could handle a little chaos on their own), then grabbed his jacket and dashed out.

Moments later, you found him waiting on the bustling streets of Zaun, his eyes alight with a mix of urgency and genuine affection. “Sorry I almost left you hanging,” he said, a playful edge in his tone. “These little rascals nearly made me miss our date.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his flustered apology. Hand in hand, you and Ekko slipped away from the familiar clang and clamor, heading toward a quiet rooftop tucked above the city’s neon glow. Up there, away from the incessant buzz of machinery and misbehaving fire lights, the chaos softened into a serene promise of time just for the two of you.

As twilight deepened, Ekko’s usual confidence gave way to a rare vulnerability. “I might be great at bending time,” he murmured, gazing out over the city, “but I’d trade every second of it if it meant missing a moment with you.”

That night, with Zaun’s lights twinkling like distant memories below, Ekko and you shared laughter, whispered secrets, and the kind of silence that spoke volumes. The fire lights, safely taking care of themselves back at the workshop, had given Ekko the gift of presence—reminding him that no matter how busy life gets, there’s always time for love.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

CAITLYN

Caitlyn is nothing if not precise, even when it comes to something as simple as Valentine’s Day. While everyone else is scrambling with last-minute plans or awkwardly trying to put together some grand gesture, Caitlyn has already thought of everything—because that’s just how she works.

You wake up to the sound of your doorbell ringing, a little earlier than usual. When you answer, you find a basket of neatly wrapped gifts—each one with a small note, perfectly handwritten by Caitlyn.

The first note reads: “For a perfect start to your day. I’ve already planned the rest, don’t worry.”

Inside the basket is your favorite breakfast—freshly baked pastries and a thermos of tea, exactly how you like it. You smile at the thoughtfulness.

By midday, Caitlyn picks you up, her usual posture calm and collected. She’s dressed in a light lavender dress, a bit more delicate than her usual attire, and the warmth in her eyes betrays her usual cool demeanor.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she says softly, offering you a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “I’ve arranged something special for us.”

She takes you to a secluded garden, one that you’ve never visited before. It’s quiet and serene, filled with vibrant flowers in bloom and a soft breeze that carries the scent of the blossoms. There’s a small table set for two, surrounded by fairy lights that twinkle as the sun starts to set.

Caitlyn smiles as you look around. “I thought we could have a quiet evening, away from everything. Just you and me.”

Dinner is light and elegant—small bites, fresh fruit, and a carefully chosen wine. Caitlyn insists on pouring, her hands steady and practiced. The evening unfolds slowly, with soft conversation, gentle laughter, and the quiet sound of the wind rustling the leaves.

At the end of the night, Caitlyn leads you to a small bridge overlooking a pond, the stars just beginning to twinkle above. She hands you a delicate silver necklace, a charm shaped like a key.

“I thought you might like this,” she says, voice soft. “A reminder that you hold the key to my heart, always.”

You take the necklace, fingers brushing hers as you clasp it around your neck. Caitlyn steps closer, wrapping her arms around you. “I know I can be… a little formal sometimes. But with you, I can be myself.”

And for Caitlyn, on Valentine’s Day, that’s more than enough. A perfect, quiet evening, with the person who means everything to her. It’s not about grand gestures or over-the-top displays of affection—it’s about the subtle, meaningful moments she shares with you.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

VI

Vi is a bit of a softie, though she’ll never admit it. So when Valentine’s Day rolls around, she might not have grandiose gestures or flashy gifts, but she’s got something just as meaningful—a day with you.

The morning starts off with a surprise: you wake up to the smell of coffee brewing and the faint sound of music playing from the other room. When you step out, there she is, in her usual leather jacket, but with a big grin and her hair slightly messier than usual.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she says, a little too casually, like she’s not trying to act extra sweet. “I made you breakfast.”

It’s not gourmet, but it’s exactly what you like—scrambled eggs, toast, and a side of bacon with a mug of coffee that’s just the right temperature. She hands you the plate with a little wink. “Figured I’d get you ready for whatever the day brings.”

You tease her a little, “So, what’s the plan? More punching things?”

She chuckles, but there’s a warmth in her eyes. “I had a better idea.”

By midday, you’re not in the Lanes, not fighting, but instead walking hand-in-hand through a quieter part of the city. Vi’s in no rush today, taking her time to show you a side of Piltover you’ve never seen—the small spots where the crowds don’t linger, the quiet parks where the sound of the wind in the trees is louder than the noise of the streets.

She’s been sneaking glances at you all day, her usual tough-girl attitude softened by the way she holds your hand, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles. And when you both stop at a secluded spot overlooking the city, she pulls out a small, simple gift—a hand-carved pendant, rough but beautiful.

“Had this made for you,” she says, voice unusually shy. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted you to have something that reminds you of me—something that doesn’t have to get destroyed.”

You can see the effort behind it—the thoughtfulness she’s not always known for. And when you kiss her, she holds you close, just a bit longer than usual.

Later, the two of you end up on a rooftop, watching the sun dip below the skyline. She leans into you, her weight comfortable and familiar. “I don’t need the whole world to know how much you mean to me. But I think I can show you, at least.”

Vi’s Valentine’s Day might not have been grandiose, but it was all the more special for how real it was. And as you sit there, wrapped up in her warmth, you know that in her own way, she’s giving you everything you need.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

AMBESSA

Ambessa Medarda is not a woman of half-measures. She doesn’t do anything small—not in war, not in power, and certainly not when it comes to you.

You don’t even realize she’s planned something until the morning of Valentine’s Day, when a personal envoy arrives at your door with a message written in her sharp, elegant script:

“Be ready by sunset. Wear something you’ll want to be seen in.”

The rest of the day is a blur of anticipation. When the evening arrives, a private airship—yes, airship—is waiting to take you to a location kept secret until the moment you arrive.

And where does she take you? A grand feast in a palace lit by candlelight? A secluded getaway on a floating estate?

No. Ambessa Medarda doesn’t just take you to dinner—she owns the evening. The entire venue, a stunning high-rise overlooking Piltover, has been reserved exclusively for you. The table is draped in silk, the food prepared by the best chefs in the city, and the wine? A rare vintage, likely acquired through means you don’t want to question.

She’s already waiting when you arrive, dressed in regal attire that commands attention. Ambessa smirks as she looks you over, eyes sharp with appreciation.

“You clean up well,” she says, offering her hand. When you take it, she presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles, her grip firm—possessive, even. “Come. I intend to make tonight very memorable.”

Dinner is filled with sharp conversation, teasing remarks, and the kind of tension that leaves your skin burning under her gaze. She watches you like a hunter who already knows they’ve won. And she has. Because at the end of the night, when she leads you to the edge of the balcony, showing you the city glittering below, she leans in, voice low against your ear:

“Tell me, my love—how shall I conquer you next?”

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

SEVIKA

Sevika doesn’t do Valentine’s Day. At least, that’s what she claims every time someone brings it up. She scoffs at the idea of cheesy gifts, overpriced drinks, and love-drunk couples wandering the Lanes.

But when it comes to you? She’s got a soft spot—one she tries really hard to hide.

You don’t expect much from her today, and honestly, you’re okay with that. Just having her around is enough. But Sevika? She always finds a way to surprise you.

After a long shift at The Last Drop, she shows up at your door with a bag of your favorite takeout and a bottle of top-shelf liquor (the good kind, not the cheap stuff she hands out to randoms at the bar). She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, just hands it over with a gruff, “Figured you’d want somethin’ decent to eat.”

You grin. “Is this your way of asking me out?”

“Tch. If I was askin’, you’d know it.”

But she doesn’t argue when you pull her inside, setting up a quiet dinner away from the usual chaos. She lets you play whatever music you want, even if it’s the sappy kind she pretends to hate. Somewhere between bites, she reaches into her coat pocket and tosses something onto the table—a small, worn-out metal lighter.

Your brows furrow. “You… got me a lighter?”

Sevika leans back, exhaling smoke from the cigar she just lit. “Had it for years. Lucky, or whatever. Thought you might wanna hold onto it.”

It’s not flowers, it’s not chocolates, but it’s her. A quiet, unspoken way of saying she cares.

You press a kiss to her jaw, feeling the way her muscles tense before she huffs out something close to a chuckle.

“Alright, alright, don’t get all sentimental on me.” But when she pulls you into her lap a second later, her grip firm and steady, you know exactly what she means:

She loves you—even if she’ll never say it outright.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

JINX

Jinx isn’t really one for traditional romance. She thinks all the pink and red hearts everywhere are kinda corny, but when it comes to you? She’s willing to make an exception—her way.

The day starts with chaos, because of course it does. You wake up to the sound of something crashing in the other room, followed by Jinx swearing under her breath. When you step out, she’s standing in the middle of a mess, surrounded by streamers, confetti, and what used to be a heart-shaped cake. She looks up at you, cheeks smudged with frosting.

“…Okay, so maybe baking’s not my thing,” she mutters, arms crossed.

You laugh and help her clean up, stealing a bit of frosting from her cheek just to see her pout. “We could always just buy something.”

“Nah, nah, I got a way better plan.”

And by that, she means dragging you all over Zaun for a Jinx-style date. It’s reckless, messy, and somehow perfect. She takes you to the rooftops, where she’s set up a little hideout with pillows, blankets, and snacks she “borrowed” from various shops. There’s even a bouquet of flowers, though some of the petals are missing—probably from her carrying them around all day.

“Ta-da!” She throws her arms out, grinning wide. “Romantic, huh?”

You sit with her under the neon glow of the city, watching the lights flicker. She fidgets a little before pulling something from her pocket—a small, handmade charm, rough around the edges but undeniably her.

“Made this for ya,” she says, voice uncharacteristically soft. “Y’know, so ya always got a piece of me with ya.”

Your heart melts. You kiss her, and for once, she’s quiet—until she pulls back with a teasing smirk. “Alright, alright, don’t get all mushy on me. I got one more surprise.”

And that’s how you end up running from enforcers because Jinx thought fireworks in the middle of Piltover were a fantastic idea. But honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

AHHH!!! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!

I WANT FOOD

[mommyslittlebird]

The Desire to Nurture

Married!WandaNat x Reader

Summary: While settling into to your new living situation, you come upon an opportunity to be the one to taking care of Natasha, instead of the other way around.

CW: Mentions of injuries, white coat syndrome

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I apologize this one is still pretty short. I’m really struggling with platonic fluff and pacing things correctly, but the chapters will hopefully get longer as I get into things I’m more familiar with writing (i.e. romance and smut).

A/N: I got a little emotional at the end of this one.

Chapter 4 of A Room of Your Own

———————————————————

Settling into the house came easier than you anticipated. The days flowed in an easy rhythm of classes and time spent with Wanda and Natasha. You grew close to them rather quickly, perhaps by necessity or perhaps by some other worldly force pushing you together. 

It was almost like a “love at first sight” type of situation. Granted, this wasn’t quite love, but there was certainly something. There was a sort of immediate familiarity, a magnetism that you couldn’t explain. It just seemed like you were meant to be around them. 

Getting to know them wasn’t like getting to know two strangers you had only met a few weeks ago. It was like reintroducing yourself to a friend after years apart. There just seemed to be a pre-established baseline. 

You surprised even yourself with how much comfort you were finding in physical affection. You had always been an affectionate person, but most people never saw that in you. You came off as standoffish to most, and they just assumed you didn’t like to be touched. You, being a little nervous about initiating physical contact, just accepted that people didn’t want to touch you. Sure it wasn’t something you were proud of, but you had sort of come to expect it. It didn’t necessarily make you sad; it was simply a fact of your life. 

That is, until Wanda and Natasha came along. 

Wanda’s touch was always gentle. She kept short acrylic nails that she would use to massage your scalp or run down your spine. She had found a spot on the back of head and neck that would put you in a boardline hypnotic trance when she scratched it. She couldn’t help but chuckle every time she felt your body relax and watched your eyes glaze over. 

Your favorite spot on the massive couch in the living room became the leftmost armrest because Wanda's favorite spot was the leftmost cushion. You would sit slightly in front of her so she would idly rub your back while she watched tv or read her books. 

Natasha always teased you. The L shaped couch was easily large enough to accommodate 8 people and yet you insisted on sitting on the armrest like all the other seats were taken. You didn’t mind the teasing though. It was no secret you were growing fond of Wanda and loved it when she gave you attention. 

Natasha’s affection was always a lot more playful. She was certainly the less physically affectionate of the two. Sometimes it was just a little too much for her to be cuddled, and she needed a bit of space. But that didn’t stop her from giving you affection in her own little ways. 

The woman was like a walking space heater, so she was always warming up your cold hands letting you stick your feet underneath her while she sat on the couch. Not to mention, always being hot usually meant she found relief in your cold extremities. She liked to grab your wrist and put your hands on her cheeks or the back of her neck.  

You weren’t exactly sure how it started, but the two of you had a bit where one of you would fill their cheeks with air, and the other one would squeeze their face until the air came out in a funny, raspberry-like noise. 

When she was feeling particularly impish, you and Natasha would play wrestle. Mostly, it just consisted of Natasha wrapping her arms around you and picking you up while you pretended to try to get away. Sometimes she would flip you upside down and throw your feet over her shoulder, which always earned her a chiding from Wanda. 

You had adjusted your schedule to only have in-person classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You were going into healthcare, so with your general education classes out of the way, you were mostly just doing clinicals and labs anyway. You spent the other days with Wanda in her home office, silently working in the reading nook. The nook–previously pristine and untouched, flanked by two small, neatly organized–was now completely overtaken by you and your things. The decorative throw pillows were replaced with large, comfortable body pillows, and where there had been an ornamental, scratchy, wool blanket, there was now a fluffy grey throw covered in little sharks. Wanda did, at least, insist on keeping the blanket folded when you weren’t using it. 

More and more of your things were starting to find their way out of your room in general. Wanda even hung up a picture of the three of you in the stairwell. It was from a time you’d gone out for ice cream and both you and Natasha had gotten chocolate all over your mouths. Wanda had chastised both of you, resulting in her getting a sloppy chocolate kiss from Natasha, and a kiss on the cheek from you, covering her face in chocolate as well.

You started to feel less like a guest and more like a roommate and a friend.

You still weren’t exactly clear on what Wanda and Natasha did for a living. You knew they both worked for Stark Industries, though they had very different positions there. From what you had gathered, they’d actually met there when they were assigned to the same unit. Wanda had since retired to a much more cushy position that she could do from home. Natasha no longer did field work, but rather switched to training new recruits. They had talked minimally about their jobs before saying they retired because they were getting older and didn’t want to spend their time getting shipped across the world on long ‘missions.’ What these ‘missions’ entailed was still unclear, but you got the sneaking suspicion you weren’t really supposed to know. 

On one of these easy, slow afternoons, you sat in the living room with Wanda. The two of you were sitting side by side, reading, when you heard Natasha come in the garage door. 

“Well if it isn’t my two favorite ladies,” she smiled, stopping to kiss Wanda on her way in. “How’s your day been, my love?” She slung her duffle bag off her shoulder and threw it in the corner. She grabbed her shoulder, wincing and sucking her teeth as a jolt of pain shot up her arm. 

“Did you hurt your arm?” you asked, closing your book and turning your attention to them. 

“Yeah,” Natasha groans, rolling her shoulder to relieve the pain. “I’m not sure what I did to it.”

“Do you think maybe it’s ‘cause you're almost 40 and you spend your days wrestling with 20 year olds?” you teased. Wanda laughed. 

“First of all, almost 40 is brutal. I’m 38,” Natasha started, mouth wide like she was offended. “And second of all, I’m gonna wrestle your 20 year old ass into the ground.” She pounced on you, wrapping her arm around your thighs and picking you up upside down. You squealed and giggled, kicking your feet in a faux attempt to get away. After a few seconds though, Natasha gently laid you on the floor, grabbing at her shoulder again. 

You stood up and reached out to touch her. “Are you okay?” you asked, quickly switching from silly and fun to serious and concerned. 

Natasha nodded. “Yeah. I probably just need to rest it for a little while.”

“Can I look at it? That’s what I go to school for, you know,” you asked, gently grabbing her bicep. 

“I thought you were going for philosophy or some shit,” she said, taking her hand away and allowing you to move her arm freely.  

You gently moved her bicep, testing her range of movement. First and foremost, you needed to make sure she didn’t tear her rotator cuff. “I do that too, as a minor. I have an English minor as well, but those are more just hobbies.” 

You poked around at her arm for a few more minutes, assessing as much as you could. “Nothing is dislocated and it doesn’t feel like anything is torn, but you should probably get an MRI just in case-”

“No!” Natasha interrupted harshly, tearing her arm from your hand. “It’s fine. I just need to rest it, like I said earlier.” She quickly moved away from you, fiddling nervously with the zipper of her bag. 

You looked at her, confused, then to Wanda. Her lips tightened, as if she was trying to silently apologize for Natasha’s harshness. But in looking back to Natasha, you saw all you needed to know. She was afraid. Of all the horrifying things she’d faced in her life, Natasha Romanoff was scared of doctor’s offices. 

You gently approach her from behind, saying her name in almost a whisper. “Natasha…”

She turned around to tell you off, but the look she received from both you and Wanda made her decide otherwise. You weren’t angry or stubborn. You weren’t even confused. You understood. She let out a breath she had been holding and visibly relaxed. 

You both stared at each other in silence for a long moment before you spoke up. “We don’t need to talk about it. I understand,” you said in almost a whisper. “I have some things… here that might help, but we don’t have to do anything right now. I’m not gonna try to make you do anything right now.” 

Natasha looked at her feet, anxious and embarrassed. “Yeah…” she finally said. “Yeah, just… let me take a shower really quick and we can talk after.”

You both headed upstairs, her to the shower and you to your school bag. Given your field of study, you had started carrying around a small bag of medical supplies: just full of basic things you were good and familiar with. 

Natasha was out of the shower in under ten minutes and you met both her and Wanda in their room. Immediately, you could tell Natasha had calmed down quite a bit. Wanda was helping her wring out her hair while she tried not to move her shoulder. “Alright doc, what have you got for me?”

“Well, I have some menthol and methylsalicylate cream,” you said in an overly pretentious tone. “So, IcyHot, basically. And I have some kinesiology tape in…” you looked down into your pack, drawing out three rolls of tape, “blue for boys, pink for girls, and camo for… hunting expeditions? Take your pick.”

“Well, we all know I love a good hunting expedition. Give me the camo,” she chuckled. 

“Alright,” you said, dropping the other two rolls back in your bag, “take off your shirt and get on the bed.”

“Woah,” Natasha teased, “at least take me to dinner first.”

Wanda chuckled, peeling the shirt off over her wife’s head and smacking her in the torso with it. “I don’t recall you being the type that needed to be wined and dined,” she retorted, playfully shoving Natasha face down on the mattress. 

You crawled up on the bed, first kneeling next to Natasha, but then deciding it would be better to straddle her waist. You started in on her shoulder, gently massaging the sore muscles. She groaned with a mix of pain and relief. “Do you usually get this up close and personal with all of your clients?”

You shook your head, continuing to press the base of your palm into her back. “I don’t usually do this on a king size mattress.” As you started to rub the cream onto her shoulder, you couldn’t help but admire her back. She was so strong, toned with muscles from the base of her spine up to her broad shoulders. Her skin was so smooth and warm, surprisingly mostly unblemished despite her choice of career. Without thinking, you gently traced your hand down the side of her spine, taking in the soft expanse of her ribcage and shoulder blade. 

You were torn from your drifting thoughts when Natasha said, “damn, while you're up there you should just do my whole back.”

“I will if you want me too,” you replied, not quite able to tell whether or not she was joking.

“You’re very good at this,” she groaned again as you circled a particularly tight muscle. “Even when you’re pushing on it like that, you’re very… gentle.”

You smiled and blushed a little at the compliment, wiping the excess cream from your hands with a cloth. You worked your way down her spine, diligently kneading the rest of her back. She started to make little noises as you made your way to her lower back. “Mmm… fuck that feels good.”

You turned your head to find Wanda, leaning in the bathroom doorway, smiling impishly. “Careful. You might make me jealous,” she quipped, but the look on her face told a different story. She looked to be enjoying this as much as Natasha was.

The look gave you a renewed sense of confidence. You shifted slightly, adjusting your position so you were now kneeling on Natasha completely. “I don’t normally do this with my patients, but since you’re so well behaved….” You leaned forward, pressing the full weight of your knee into the muscle just above her pelvis bone. 

She hummed with delight. “Mmm, you might just be my favorite… physical therapist? Kinesologist? Is that what they call you?”

You chuckle. “I’m technically a ‘non-surgical orthopedist’, but right now I’m just your roommate kneeling on your back. This would be… frowned upon in my practice.” You shifted again, rolling off her back. “Alright, you can sit up. I’ll tape you up.”

Gently, you helped Natasha sit up. You carefully avoided looking down, fearing one glance at her bare chest might cause you to melt into the mattress. You grabbed a strip of the tape and stretched it carefully over her injured shoulder. “There. You can shower with it and everything. I’ll reapply it when it starts to come off. But you’ll have to limit physical activity and try not to lift anything too heavy. Including me, so don’t even think about trying to tackle me.”

You and Wanda helped her get her shirt back on over her head, giggling as she tried repeatedly to put her arm through the head hole. You sat back on your feet with a giddy, pleased smile on your face. It felt good to be the one helping them. You’d spent the past weeks trying to come to terms with being cared for by the two women. They had assured you as many times as you needed to hear it that they were doing this because they wanted to, because it made them happy too, but you had never truly believed them until right now. 

Sure, maybe a massage wasn’t the same as completely opening your home to and caring for a person, but this feeling, this pride, of knowing you had been able to help and bring relief was elating. You spent so much time thinking of yourself as a thing that had to be dealt with, but maybe there was some inherent pleasure to nurturing as well. You felt good. You felt useful. You felt appreciated. 

You’d read once about inmates in prison adopting pet roaches or toads because “... we all, in some form or another, have the desire to nurture.” Maybe that's what you did for them. Not in giving massages, or doing the dishes, or helping bring in the groceries, but in just existing here, for them to nurture and love. 

The weight of your burden on them suddenly felt no heavier than that of a little bug in a prisoner’s jumpsuit. You were wanted here. You always were. But you could see it now. Not in the relief on Natasha’s face, but in the smile on your own.

[lila-dalilah]

SPECIAL I

S2!sevika x chubby!reader

3.2k words

Contents: Masturbating (short), Sevika being a horny fuck, mentions of drinking and smoking weed, mentions of age gap, reader as body hair (?), kind of slow burn.

Summary: Sevika meets you at a dingy bar and can’t get your body out of her mind.

A.N: I wrote this because I’m at the motherland (🇩🇴) and my partner isn’t, so i’m horny and touch starved as fuck. This is the first time I put this much time and effort into writing fanfiction. Originally it was wayyy longer but I wanted to split it up and see how this performs first. Honestly not much happens, just Sevika being down bad. Also, I’m trying something new with the way I make my posts but idk if it’s prettier this way. Anyways, enjoy!

Divider from here

MINORS AND MEN DNI

Rock Bottom was a dingy, hole-in-the-wall type of place that had once been the hot spot in Zaun. Now, it was filled by empty stools and wobbly tables. The lights would flicker from time to time, some bulbs giving out before the end of the night.

Sevika and Miguel sat in their usual spot, just as they had done for years. Their families had always been very close, and they had known each other since childhood. When Rock Bottom was in its prime, they would drink themselves stupid on the cheapest booze they could get their hands on. Now, instead of dancing and trying to pick up one night stands, they sat and reminisced about their youngest years. The loud music and chatter were gone, substituted by an almost heavy silence only interrupted by the occasional clanking of glasses or muffled conversations.

Sevika had already downed a drink before Miguel arrived. She had been desperate to meet up with him. Miguel seemed to be the only constant in her life. The new weight on her shoulders was suffocating. Sevika felt responsible for continuing Silco’s legacy while also taking care of Jinx, who had taken in a kid herself somehow. Neither of those tasks were easy to accomplish.

Those who had once been partners seemed to be turning on her one by one, and she felt the need to always keep an eye on the girls. Jinx seemed to be dealing with things fairly well, but after so many years Sevika knew better. There was always calm before the storm. She was always in high alert, waiting for something to go wrong, which happened more often than she’d liked.

On top of that, Sevika had just started getting used to the new mechanical arm that Jinx had built for her. Some everyday tasks, like holding a glass or opening a door, proved to be very difficult now. She had broken at least half a dozen of glasses in the past two weeks either from squezimg them to hard or not gripping them tightly enough. Sevika had been forcing herself to use her right hand, which felt clumsy after not being used for so long. Still, it was the safer option.

Sevika grabbed the half full glass of whiskey with her non-dominant hand and downed it all at once. She could feel the alcohol burning its way down, hoping that it would drown out everything else, at least for a bit.

“If these walls could talk…”said Miguel, recalling all the anecdotes that had taken place there.

Sevika barely heard him, her eyes fixated on you. You were wearing a short, form fitting dress that hugged every curve. When you walked, your whole body jiggled.

In Zaun, being big was almost a sign of wealth. It meant you had enough to eat well. Sevika took pride in her body, for her it showed how far she had come. She could afford to eat well enough to maintain her muscles.

Sevika also loved the contrast of being with someone softer, the feeling of their plush curves against her angular and solid body. Sevika could almost imagine how you would feel on top of her, your soft thighs pressing her sides, your belly and breasts on full display. She wanted to run her hands through every inch of your body, using your rolls to pull you closer and closer.

Sevika almost startled herself has those thoughts ran through her mind. She had too many things on her mind, sex or arousal hadn’t been a priority for a while. Her libido had always been high, but her schedule had been too tight as of late to accommodate it.

Sevika spent her days at work and her nights with Jinx and Isha, who, after much insistence, had practically moved into Sevika’s place, staying over at least three times a week. In an effort to keep Isha away from danger, Sevika took it upon herself to look after her while Jinx worked on new projects. Most nights, she was exhausted, her back aching more often than not. If she had any energy left in her, Sevika would try to catch up with friends or go for a drink with other associates, not because she enjoyed it, but because she wanted to stay informed.

She hadn’t visited the brothel in about a month. Now that everything had settled a bit, Sevika had started to feel the effects of her unintentional abstinence. The sight of you reawakened a hunger that had been missing for a while.

You approached Miguel from the side, wide smile across your face. You placed a hand on the table, leaning slightly forward, towards Miguel. Sevika started at your cleavage, noticing any subtle movement of your breast while you greeted Miguel.

“Damn, didn’t expect to see you here”Miguel said cheerfully ”come, have a drink with us”

“I’d love to, but I’m all out of cash for the night”you said”Just wanted to say hi”

“Come on”insisted Miguel”One more round won’t ruin you!”

“Seriously, I can’t”you said, shaking your head from side to side.

Sevika couldn’t pull her eyes away from your body. It just had something special, magnetic. It was almost like an instinct. She wanted to have you. No reason or hesitation. You hadn’t noticed her yet, too caught up giggling as Miguel tried to convince you to stay.

“Next round’s on me”said Sevika, her voice directed at you for the first time.

Her voice caught you off guard. You knew who she was, who wouldn’t? She was Silco’s right hand back when he was running things. Now, with him gone, she had taken over, hand in hand with his daughter. Miguel had talked to you about her, mostly when telling you stories about his youth. She seemed to be in all of them. You had heard how she could take down multiple men as if it was nothing, or break chairs in half as if they were made of twigs. You thought she was probably the coolest woman of all of Zaun.

“Have a seat”said Sevika.

And with that, you moved to sit down at Miguel’s other side, just in front of her. She followed the movement of your hips as you took a seat. Sevika tried to get a peek at your thighs discreetly, barely resisting the urge to stare . The way your dress rode up slightly while your thighs covered the whole chair made her heart go slightly faster. Further up, she noticed the soft curve of your belly, round and inviting, the kind of place Sevika would love to rest her head on. She imagined having her hands around your belly, her nails almost digging into your flesh while you were on top of her. Sevika forced her gaze towards your face, pushing those thoughts away. You smiled softly when she made eye contact, making her heart stutter.

Sevika tried to play it cool, stealing glances at you from time to time. Beneath her poker face, Sevika was almost jittery. The way your body shook with laughter, how your lips wrapped around the rim of the glass every time you took a sip, the sweetness of your voice. All of it was messing with her head, the lust your body created overcoming most of her brainpower. She was silent for most of the conversation, adding some comments here and there. Sevika hated how easily her mind slipped into desire around your body. You weren’t doing anything special, yet her imagination was spinning out of control.

“You know, JJ told me he has some good new stuff. He’s coming over later”you mentioned, then turned to Sevika”y’all can come by if you want”

“That sounds good”added Sevika, earning a strange look from Miguel.

“I heard it’s pretty strong, mixed with something exotic”commented Miguel.

Sevika knew that JJ’s “good new stuff” would be some kind of genetically modified strain of weed. He would try to manipulate the plant to get stronger, better weed as a hobby, chasing the perfect high. Sevika didn’t smoke weed anymore, hadn’t for more than a decade. She just consumed shimmer now, and Miguel knew it. Still, she was intrigued by you, not the weed. Something about you made her want to linger, even if your presence made her feel like a fool for staring. Sevika wanted more time with you.

It didn’t take long for you to leave. You thanked Sevika for the drinks and said goodbye before getting up, showing her your smile one last time. Sevika’s eyes were fixated on your has you walked away. The way your wide hips moved from side to side with every step and how you ass moved were just the last nail in the coffin. Sevika knew she needed you as she tightened her grip on the glass.

You were a bit flirty around Sevika because she was undeniably attractive, but you doubted she saw you the same way. You didn’t hate your looks, but you felt like you were nothing to write home about, just average. Sevika probably had multiple women throwing themselves at her already. You didn’t think you would stand out. Still, Sevika seemed interesting and a good friend from what Miguel had told you, albeit a bit more reserved than you had expected.

“So… how do you know her?”asked Sevika once you had exited the building.

“We used to be coworkers”Miguel answered.

“Coworkers, uh…”Sevika repeated absent minded.

“You fancy her, don’t you?”

That question caught Sevika off guard, pausing mid sip. Had she been that obvious?

“I mean, she’s just your type”added Miguel, watching her reaction.

“I don’t have a type”Sevika scoffed.

Sevika had been with a lot of women before. Tall, short, big, small, light skinned, dark skinned, long hair, short hair, hybrid. She had been with all kinds of woman, but her preference remained. Bigger women always caught her eye first. Sevika wouldn’t brush off the smaller women that hit on her, but she wouldn’t go up to them either. Still, Miguel didn’t need to know that.

“Whatever”Miguel said, taking a sip” you haven’t smoked weed in, what, 15 years? but she brings it up and all of a sudden it sounds good?”

Miguel had a sly grin across his face. He enjoyed teasing Sevika. She stayed silent for a bit because Miguel was right. She didn’t have a good comeback. Sevika exhaled sharply, irritated.

“She and JJ are nice, that’s all”Sevika said.

“Sure thing”said Miguel, shiteating grin still imprinted on his face.

On the way to your place, Sevika was unusually restless, thoughts and heart racing. She wasn’t used to feeling that way, nor did she like it.

When Sevika and Miguel arrived, the room was filled with smoke, all windows closed. The scent was trapped, pungent, yet pleasant, slightly sweeter than usual. With the celling light off, the living room was illuminated by a few candles and a lamp. JJ lounged on the armchair while you were sat on a tiny couch in front of him, passing the joint back and forth. The coffee table between you was cluttered. A few lighters, a pack of filters, a pack of rolling papers, a grinder. And in the center a big, round bowl full of dried, pinkish leaves, JJ’s new project.

You smiled as Sevika sat by your side, your eyes redder than before.

“Here, glad you could make it” you said handing Sevika the blunt.

During the night, Sevika watched you with no caution. You figured she was zoning out, after all, JJ’s batch had turned out to be very strong. She had complimented your necklace and earrings earlier, so you didn’t think anything of her looking in that general direction.

But really, Sevika was taking in every detail of your lips and your neck, taking full advantage of her closeness. Her eyes fixated on your lips while you took a drag, the tip of the joint glowing, a faint stain of lipstick left around the filter. Then you would exhale, shaping your lips into an “O” that made them look plumper as the smoke dissipated around you.

Further down, your neck was adorned with a necklace that once shone, but had since adopted a dull, spotty pinkish color. Real silver or gold was expensive, so you just settled for what you could get. Sevika felt the urge to change that. Someone as beautiful as you deserved jewelry that wouldn’t tarnish, something that would last.

You weren’t the most discreet either. You knew she was older, around Miguel’s age, but that didn’t deter you that night. Alcohol and weed made you frisky on their own, together they made you downright horny. Having a woman like Sevika near you wasn’t helping the situation.

For all you knew, Sevika was the type to be bold, going after what she wanted. If she found you attractive, she probably would have made a move by now, right?. Still, you leaned on her more than you would with others, your legs touching hers and your hand going on her bicep every time you laughed. With each touch, Sevika would almost stop breathing, tensing up a bit under your hand. She wasn’t fond of physical affection for the most part, but yours was different. Nobody had really touched her like that in a long time. Sevika was surprised to find that she didn’t mind it, even liked it.

Your eyes kept drifting to her metallic arm . It was a big, probably heavy, metal structure covered in doodles. Sevika didn’t seem like the type to decorate things in that way, but Jinx and Isha were. Isha had taken to doodling in Sevika’s arm when she took it off or was distracted. Sevika would act grumpy when she caught the little girl in the act, but her heart melted looking at every little thing drawn on it and she wore it with pride. And, when Jinx repaired or updated Sevika’s arm, it would come back with at least one new drawing around it.

As you adjusted your position to get more comfortable, Sevika couldn’t help but look at your thighs. By that point you were fairly intoxicated, your moves a bit messy. She just kept staring as your dress rode up, showing a few centimeters of your plain grey underwear, dark, short hairs peeking through the sides. It was barely anything, but she felt the heat raising up. Sdvika clenched her jaw, forcing her eyes away from you. She felt worse than a fucking perv, getting riled up over just that. But she couldn’t help herself. She wondered how soft your pussy would be, probably as soft as the rest of you. Her eyes went back for a second peek. The thought of burying her head in between your thighs made her clear her throat.

Then you leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder as if it were natural. Sevika hesitated for a few seconds before wrapping her flesh arm around your shoulders. She knew nothing smart would come out of her mouth that far into the night, so she let the gesture speak for itself. Miguel flashed her a slight, knowing smile. Sevika ignored him, instead running her fingers up and down your soft upper arm, waiting to see your reaction.

You weren’t really paying attention, your eyes closing every couple of minutes because it felt just right, as if you were meant to do it. It was just so pleasant that you drifted off to sleep without even noticing. Sevika only noticed when Miguel and JJ started talking in a softer voice. She had been too busy thinking about what she would say or do to you based on your reaction to notice that your breathing got heavier, faint snores coming out of your mouth. Soon enough, Miguel made up some flimsy excuse for him and JJ to leave. It was just the two of you now.

Sevika tried to stay as still as possible, not wanting to wake you up. Her heart was going way too fast for no good reason. She just had someone sleeping on her shoulder, no big deal. Except, it was you. Sevika just stared at your face. Eyes closed, mouth half open, chest raising and lowering rhythmically. You looked at peace, probably having a very deep sleep fueled by the drugs consumed. Sevika still didn’t know what her next move would be. Ultimately she just sat there, enjoying your warmth against her.

Eventually, Sevika had to go to the bathroom. She shifted slowly, trying to slip from under you without waking you. Sevika moved around you as if you were some kind of bomb that could detonate at any moment. As she finally got on her feet, a slight grin appeared on her face, almost proud for not waking you up. That dissipated the second Sevika came back into the living room to find you sitting up on the couch, groggy but awake. Sevika sighed softly, then explained where JJ and Miguel had gone. You only hummed, reaching towards the table.

“Guess I’ll roll another one for us, then”you said, matter or factly.

Sevika watched your hands while you rolled the joint slowly. Neither of you seemed to be in a hurry.

Sevika had been quiet for most of the night. You figured she was the type to listen rather than talk. You decided to take matters into your hands and just started asking her questions. She humored you, sharing stories about her childhood antics. In turn, you launched into your own memories. You would always ramble on and on when you were intoxicated, jumping between slightly related topics. After a while, you decided to call it a night. Sevika was exhausted by then, ready to crash into bed for a couple of hours before heading to work. Still, she didn’t mind staying over for a bit more. You weren’t just easy on the eyes, you were easy to be around.

Before Sevika walked out of your home, you hugged her, thanking her for coming over. Sevika almost blushed, caught off guard by your body pressing into hers. You squished her tightly, while she hesitated before just lightly patting your back and awkwardly wrapping her arms around you, stiff as a stick. On her way home, all she could think about was your touch. You, on the other hand, thought you had made her uncomfortable, maybe gotten too close for her comfort. After all, you had only known each other for a couple hours.

That night, your hug kept replaying on Sevika’s mind. She wished she could go back in time and tighten her arms around you, explore every inch of your body with her hands while kissing along your face and neck. Sevika needed to touch somebody and be touched again. It had been just way too long for her and your body was calling to her.

When her hand made its way down in between her legs, she was already wet. With a sigh, Sevika’s fingers pressed against her clit and rubbed it with urgency while she closed her eyes, trying to remember every detail of your body. She imagined you on top of her face, feeling the pressure of your whole body weight in her while your thighs caged her in, heath and softness overwhelming her. Sevika whimpered, bitting her lower lip until she was finally relieved.

While she changed her sheets, an uncomfortable feeling washed over her. She felt ridiculous, like a horny teenager, getting off just thinking about your thighs and cleavage. As the embarrassment started to settle in, Sevika knew one thing for sure: you had something special.

[comflexxed]

june hadn’t known what came after a love like theirs, either.

he had spent so much of his life believing in temporary things, in fleeting moments that would never last. even after meeting hans, even after falling into the kind of love he never thought was meant for him, there had always been that quiet fear lingering in the back of his mind — what happens when the dream ends?

but it hadn’t ended. it had only ever grown.

june shifted slightly, adjusting the weight of their daughter in his arms as she babbled softly, her toy gripped tightly in one hand as her other rested against his chest. she was warm, safe, small fingers curling against the fabric of his shirt as he rocked her gently, watching the scene unfold before them.

hans and their son in the garden, a sight so tender and so full of love that it made june’s breath catch. hans had always been gentle, always careful, and the way he guided their son’s hands over the soil, the way he had dressed him in a tiny apron and sunhat to protect him, made june’s heart ache with something deep and immeasurable.

this was their happily ever after. and it wasn’t an ending. it was the start of something endless.

june returned hans’s wave with a small smile, tilting his head as their daughter let out a delighted squeal at the sight of her father. she adored hans — both of their children did. how could they not, when hans had the kindest hands, the warmest voice, a love so vast and unwavering that it wrapped around them all like a shield?

scooter came bounding in with a stick, and just like that, their son’s attention shifted, his little hands grasping for it as he threw it with all his strength. june chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to their daughter’s head as hans made his way toward him, his expression full of pride as he took his seat beside him.

june huffed a quiet laugh, his free hand finding hans’s without a second thought, fingers sliding together as naturally as breathing. “that’s longer than i expected,” he murmured, eyes flicking to their son, who was now fully immersed in a game of fetch with scooter. “i’d call that a win.”

jinx wasted no time curling up in hans’s lap, and for a moment, june just sat there, taking it all in. the warm weight of their daughter against his chest, the feeling of hans’s hand in his own, the soft afternoon breeze rustling through the trees. this was their home, their life, their family.

he had never imagined this for himself. never thought he’d have something this whole, this complete. and yet, here it was.

june let out a slow breath, his grip on hans’s hand tightening slightly. “if someone had told me years ago that this was what happiness looked like,” he admitted, his voice quiet, thoughtful, “i don’t think i would’ve believed them.”

his gaze drifted over their home, he thought about the garden hans had cultivated with such care, the patio they had built together, the little hands that had reached for them in the middle of the night, needing comfort, needing love. “but it’s ours,” he said, tilting his head to look at hans, at the man he had chosen to spend forever with. “and i wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

the sun had started to dip lower in the sky, painting the world in soft gold, and june knew — he knew — that no matter what came next, no matter how many new chapters were written, their love would be woven into all of it.

june exhaled softly, a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, but something gentler, something full. he looked at hans — at his husband — and felt the weight of his words settle in his chest, steady like a lighthouse guiding him home.

june had never been one for grand declarations, for putting his feelings into words that could match the enormity of them, but standing here, with hans by his side, he thought maybe he understood how to try.

he watched as hans lifted their hands to the sun, the rings catching the light and glinting like they had been forged from the very rays that warmed their skin. the engagement ring that had once been the only symbol of their quiet promise was now joined by the bands that would mark them forever — husbands in name, in love, and in truth.

june’s lips twitched into a smile as hans declared his intent to show the world, his happiness so uncontainable that it had to be shared. that was hans — his hans —who had once carried so many worries about what could go wrong, who had once hesitated to reach for the things he wanted most. and now, here he was, holding june’s hand high, no hesitation and no fear, only love.

june’s fingers tightened around hans’s, grounding them together. “then let them see,” he murmured, his voice low but sure, his gaze never leaving hans’s. “let them all see.”

scooter and jinx had finally settled at their feet, their small forms curled into the sand, carrying the same ease that settled in june’s heart. family. that was what this was. not just a wedding, not just a day — they had officially built something together.

there had been a time when june had struggled to believe in things like permanence. the world had felt like a place where things were fleeting, where love was something fragile, easily lost, easily broken. but then there had been hans.

hans, who had never let him go.

hans, who had given him a love so unwavering, so absolute, that june had no choice but to believe in it, too.

june swallowed against the emotion building in his chest, tilting his head slightly as he looked at his husband—the love of his life. “good,” he murmured, his voice quiet but thick with feeling. “because you’re my happiness too. and i’m never going anywhere.”

his hand, still entwined with hans’s, lifted to his lips, and june pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles, lingering there for just a moment. a vow, sealed not in words, but in touch, in presence, in all the quiet ways he had always loved hans and would continue to love him for the rest of their days.

let the world see.

let them all know.

hans was his.

and june was his, forever.

[mrrharper]

Fitting Into The Gear

The funniest thing? He wasn’t planning to buy anything.

He just wandered into the store selling motorcycle gear to look around. He planned to get a license in the near future and wanted to check how much would he have to save for the gear alone.

So he walked in and looked around, surrounded by the rich smell of brand new leather and plastic. He was quickly joined by a staff member, a beefy bro type, who very enthusiastically started explaining to him all the details he should focus on while searching if he wanted to get the best and sickest looking gear for himself.

All this talk made him want to try on some stuff, see how it looked on him. He ended up with a helmet and a mid range motorcycle suit, which he brought into the changing room located in the back of the store. He took off most of his clothes and began the process of putting on the suit, which took him a moment as he had never worn anything like this before. When that was done, the leather was clinging to his body more tightly than he expected, but thankfully it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling.

Then came the helmet, which was another hurdle. It was supposed to sit tight on his head, or so the bro biker told him earlier, which meant that putting it on also took a while.

When he was finally done he turned around and faced the full-body mirror on the back wall to see how he looked. And he didn’t look half bad. Pretty good even. Yes, the leather suit was a bit too large for his lanky frame, but the helmet added a certain… something to his appearance which he found almost hot. Yeah, really hot.

Hot… wait, was he getting hotter? Yes, his body was now feeling significantly warmer than just a few moments before. But that must have bean because of the suit, which was all leather and thus probably good at capturing the heat radiating off of his body.

But then he moved a bit and he felt it. There was something wrong with his body and he was certain it wasn’t the suit or there helmet. His body felt different. He looked down and furrowed his brow. Did his chest look… larger? Actually, his arms looked bulkier as well. And his midsection too… his legs also! What the fuck? Why was his body expanding? And was it actually? He quickly pulled the zipper of the suit and got out of the upper half, then froze. His t-shirt was no longer there. Instead, he was now wearing a Nike compression shirt that… holy fuck, he was jacked! He had visible, quite meaty pecs! And these biceps and forearms… the fuck? How could this happen? This mush have been a hallucination, this was not real!

He was about to run out of the changing booth when the visor of his helmet started glowing and he just couldn’t look away. So he stood still as his mind began reshaping itself, his personality, thoughts, emotions, habits, all shifting, disappearing and appearing again. His brain was like clay and the helmet was remaking him into someone else.

That someone else was an obnoxious biker bro. He worked in the store, selling motorcycle gear to dudes who wanted to be just like him - jacked, with a sick bike between their legs. In the evenings he worked out or ran away from the cops with his brahs. His life was simple, as his thoughts focused on two things only, riding and lifting. There was nothing else that felt was necessary for him. He was hot as fuck after all, dudes like him weren’t supposed to worry about shit. He’d just flex and drive away on his black-and-white Ninja 700, leaving only a few skid marks on the asphalt behind him.

[mrsshabana]

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 ♡ 𝐄𝐦𝐨!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Emo!Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, college au, fluff ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words. Sorry I'm posting this so late, I had almost no time to write it so it's very rushed. But I wanted to give everyone something to read today even though it's short. Happy Valentine's Day!

God, did Gyutaro hate Valentine's Day.

Everything about it disgusted him. From the bright colors and sweet smells to the mushy feelings and love confessions. Thinking about the horrid day made him gag.

It didn't make sense to him. Half of these people who celebrate Valentine's Day together will be broken up before the year ends. So what's the point? Haven't they learned yet that love is a facade that only ends in a broken heart?

Maybe that's the emo in him speaking, but can you blame the boy for feeling that way?

His heart has never beat for another. To be honest, most people would be convinced that his heart doesn't beat at all. From his never-ending brooding attitude and his overtly emo attire.

Love isn't something he often thinks about. But deep down he does fantasize about having someone to love, especially around this time of year. That's why you'll rarely see him leave his dorm during February, except for attending mandatory classes of course.

Seeing all of these couples holding hands and being all lovey-dovey, a part of him yearns for it. Sure they are probably inevitably destined to end in heartbreak. But sometimes he wonders if experiencing love is worth the heartache. Maybe that's why people always come back each year to celebrate this dreaded holiday.

By now he's pretty convinced that love wasn't meant for him so he does whatever he can to drown everything out. Because there's no way in hell a girl would ever take interest in him, so it's better to just avoid them all.

When Valentine's Day finally comes Gyutaro begrudgingly leaves his dorm. But not before he puts on the heaviest, most anti-normal person emo garb that he has. Of course, he has his usual graphic tee, skinny jeans, and black jacket with the sleeves rolled up. But today he makes sure to put the black eyeliner on heavy and wear spiked bands around his wrists. The combat boots and metal chain on his hip top the look off.

He hopes this will be enough to deter anyone from speaking to him today. He only has two classes so as long as he can get through that then he'll be fine. Steering clear of any painfully romantic couples canoodling all throughout campus.

The day goes by longer than it should, but eventually, he gets through his classes.

Though he can't shake this heavy feeling inside of his chest. He tries to ignore it but as he saw more and more reminders of what today symbolizes the feeling only got stronger and stronger.

"Why am I feeling this way...?" he mumbles to himself as he clutches his chest. Inexplicably his eyes begin to water as the feeling worsens.

Panicked and annoyed, Gyutaro quickly leaves the building and walks towards one of his favorite spots near campus, a small secluded creek surrounded by tall trees that make him feel like he's in another world. He has to trudge through some shrubs to get there, but he always goes here when he wants to be alone.

Sitting down on a fallen log and lighting a cigarette, Gyutaro sighs.

He doesn't want to admit it, but he does feel incredibly lonely. Sometimes he internally curses everyone who has things that he doesn't, especially when it comes to having a loving relationship. He knows he isn't the easiest guy to get along with so the relationship would probably go south anyways. But that doesn't stop him from yearning for it. All he wants is to be loved. Is that really so much to ask?

He closes his eyes and takes a drag of his cigarette, trying to shift his thoughts to anything else.

But he's quickly snapped out of it when he hears a twig snap behind him.

"Shit," he mutters and puts out his cigarette. Did someone follow him? Maybe it's just an animal...

"Hello?" he shouts, hoping that it is indeed just an animal and not a couple that wanted to sneak away together.

"Erm... hi, um... sorry to bother you," you say with a shaky voice as you emerge from the trees.

"Y/N?" his eyes widen as he recognizes you as one of the girls in his art class. Honestly, he only remembered your name because he thought you were really cute. Not to mention sweet too. You haven't talked to him much, but the few times you did you were always abnormally kind to him. Something he wasn't used to from people.

"Yeah, sorry I um," you stutter not sure what to say as you realize how weird it would be to tell him that you followed him out here.

"What're you doin' here?" he raises a brow.

"I-I wanted to give you this!" you shout, your nerves getting the best of you as you force yourself to just spit it out already, "Happy Valentine's Day!" You swiftly hold out a velvet heart-shaped box.

"What..." he whispers in disbelief, "This for me?"

"Yes! I hope you like it," your entire face is red as you awkwardly hold the item, hoping he'll just take it already.

He narrows his eyes as if he doesn't believe you, but he takes the box anyway. Flipping it over, inspecting every detail, seeing his black painted nails shine as he moves his hand around the box. God do you love how he paints his nails.

"What is it?" he asks skeptically.

"It's a bomb," you respond.

His eyes widen as he stares back at you like you're a madwoman.

"Gyutaro, I'm joking!" you chuckle, lightening the mood, "Just open it already!"

He scoffs, holding back a laugh as he opens the velvet box. Inside are messily decorated chocolates in heart shapes.

"They taste better than they look, I promise..." you say sheepishly, hoping he won't hate them.

"Did you... actually make these?"

"Mm hm," you nod, "I tried to at least..."

He genuinely can't believe it. He doesn't even care that half of the chocolates look like turds, he's just touched that someone went out of their way to make something for them. Hell, he would have been happy if you just bought a box of chocolates from Walmart. But this? He never expected someone to do this for him.

"Are you trying to fuck with me?" he says in disbelief, his mind telling him that there's no way this isn't a joke or a cruel prank.

"W-Well um... maybe after a few dates..."

"... what?" his cheeks go red, "N-No! That wasn't what I meant- fuck um... never mind," he stutters, flustered by the thought that a pretty girl like you actually is considering having sex with him.

"Th-thank you," he spits out, "I love it." An awkward smile pulls on his lips, revealing his crooked teeth.

But it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

You've been crushing on him so hard ever since you met him this semester. He hasn't talked to you very much, but he doesn't seem unpleasant. Just quiet.

But when you happened to see him talking to his friends one day after class, you witnessed him smile for the very first time. And it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You wished that one day you could make the cute emo boy smile like that.

And you finally did. Even if he ends up rejecting you, you don't care. You made him smile and that was what you were really aiming for. A rare reaction you barely see cross his face.

But honestly, Gyutaro doesn't know how to react. He's awkward and shy and totally not used to interacting with people like this. Let alone cute girls.

In an attempt to show his desire to get closer to you, Gyutaro scoots over and pats the spot beside him, "Wanna join me?"

"S-Sure!" You say eagerly as you take a seat beside him.

Gyutaro leans back, staring up at the sky as he tries to process everything that's happening right now. But there's one question he can't get off his mind, "What made you wanna give this to me?"

"I think you're really cool..." you shyly admit as you fiddle with your fingers, not brave enough to look at him as you confess your feelings, "I like your style and I always wanted to get to know you better. But I never knew how."

He's internally kicking himself for making himself appear so unapproachable. Sure it kept the normies away like he wanted but it also kept cool people like you away that genuinely wanted to get to know him.

"Aw man... thanks. I think you're pretty cool too," he smiles, putting his hand on top of yours, "Maybe we can hang out sometime outside of class... I-If you want to."

"Of course! I'd love to," you beam excitedly, not only because he wants to hang out with you but also because he's touching you right now, "Y'know I um... I'm not doing anything tonight."

"Me neither," he blushes and turns to you, "Wanna come over? I have a sick record collection we could listen to."

"I'd love that, Gyutaro," you say, squeezing his hand. Just happy that you get to see the emo boy smile. But this won't be the last time, you'll be seeing that crooked smile of his a lot more after today.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Conversation Hearts

Requested: No

Warning(s): Implied nsfw, mentions of condoms and lube, mention of nightmares, humping, biting

Summary: Little blurbs for CoD men based on some conversation heart words

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Alejandro Vargas

Ghost - All Mine

“All mine.” You whispered in his ear, your hands crawling over his skin, a blessing. The touch of a god of love, something so pure and beautiful caressing his mangled flesh. He wasn’t worthy of it, but he craved it all the same. Your touch, your scent, your presence, your love. He wasn’t worthy, but he’d kill everyone else who got close, so that he could keep your attention for just a little bit longer. Ares with his Aphrodite, war and brutality against the soft and beautiful, the disgusting against the perfect.

“Yeah, Luv, I’m all yours.” He echoed, his hands gently cradling your hips, desperate to keep you as close as he could. Aching for your touch like an addict, like he’d die without you so near to him. He didn’t know how he survived before you and he knew he could never do so again now that you were in his life. “Always yours. This heart of mine is yours, til the second it stops beating. When I’m nothin’ more than a pile of ashes and dust in your hands.”

“My my, quite the romantic today, Mr. Riley.” You say with a chuckle, and it rings in his skull like wedding bells. Mr.Riley. He never much cared for his name, not the name that he shared with scum like his father. But you made it sound almost…pleasant. He wanted to hear it more, wanted you to never stop saying it. And maybe, one day, you’d call him by your last name instead. Your name attached at the end of his. He sounded it out in his head, loving every meshed syllable. Wanted to engrave it on his skull so that whoever eventually killed him knew who to send his raw bleeding heart back home to.

Gaz - Cutie Pie

“Cutie pie.” Your voice coos in his ear as he starts to wake up, scratching an itch he didn’t know he had, just by speaking to him. Calming him from the lingering panic of his nightmare before he could even get himself any more worked up. “Angel boy, love of my life.” You whisper again, peppering kisses against the rounded apples of his cheeks, along the line of his jaw, on the bridge of his nose. “Come back to me, Sweetheart. It’s all okay.”

“I’m here.” He whispers, his lips twitching into a smile when he feels your hand slide into his, linking your fingers along his own. “I’m right here, Lovey. I’m okay. Sorry to worry you like that.” He says, running his thumb over your knuckles, feeling the pulse in your palm beat against his own. He could almost convince himself that they were perfectly in sync, as they were meant to be.

“Ain’t gotta be sorry, Sugar Cube.” You tell him, your voice as soft and delicate as the baby feather of a dove. Tickling at his heart, at his soul. Every syllable from your mouth like a love spell made just for him. Perfect in every way that he could think of. Irresistible. More tempting than the secrets of Pandora’s box, and even more satisfying to indulge in. He would die happy, if you were there to talk to him until his eyes shut forever, and he slipped into the dark abyss. “It’s what I’m here for, Baby. Here for you, whenever you need me to be. Now and always, you got that?”

Soap - I Love You

“I love you.” Soap whispered against the curve of your throat, trailing his lips down your clavicle, over the slope of your shoulder. “I love ya so much, mah bonnie darlin.” He ran his hands down your sides, in the dip of your waist and over the arch of your hips, over your trembling thighs, your body shaking with emotions that you couldn’t even begin to place. Couldn’t begin to put names to. You weren’t sure you’d even be able to place them if you had a perfectly clear mind.

“I lo-love you too, Baby.” You whine, hips jerking against the soft pudge of his belly when he squeezed the fattest part of your thighs and runs his teeth over your collarbone in the faintest imitation of a bite, so unlike the deep feral ones he usually left along your body. Your legs kicked uselessly against his thighs, your back rising in a perfect arch, mouth agape with a soft choked noise that made him chuckle against your flesh.

“I love you more.” He says, grinding his throbbing cock against the bed, so violently that the whole mattress shifted up, just a little. His lips rolled up, baring his teeth in a facsimile of a scowl. A beast in the midst of a rut, and you were the prey he’d chosen to pin beneath the weight of his paw. “Love you more than you could even dream, my darling. My love. My perfect little fucking minx.”

Alejandro Vargas - Kiss Me

“Kiss me.” You giggle, eyes peering at him like you could find the secrets of the universe resting in his eyes. He smirked, tilting his head and arching his brow at you, staying silent for a long moment just to make it seem like he was thinking about it when you both knew that he was just going to dive in anyways. “Ale, kiss me.” You say again, with more force in your tone, grasping at the collar of his button down shirt and pulling him closer. “I need you to kiss me, Tesoro.” You whisper, brushing your lips against his.

“Te amo, Mi Corazon.” Alejandro snarled against your lips before fully leaning in, his teeth knocking against yours for a moment, your noses squished together before he righted himself, turning the action more pleasant, more sweet. Moans and gasps shared between you, out one mouth and into the next. Eyes squeezed shut until he pried himself away, making your whine. But he didn’t go far.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He whispered, making your eyes flutter open just in time to see him pull out a tube of chocolate flavored lube and a thick stack of condoms from his back pocket. “How about we celebrate this day the right way, huh?” He says with a wink and a dirty grin, barely even giving you a chance to process his words before he was grabbing at your arms and herding you to the bedroom, laughing the whole way there.

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! young!serial killer grandpa & time traveler reader

masterlist | requests open !

warnings; Mentions of violence, murder, serial killings, Everett's superiority/god complex, misanthropy (hatred of the human race), manipulation, possessive behavior, mental instability, and there might be more that i forgot :( if i missed a major one, please let me know and i'll add it !!!

additional notes; i read "garden of the dead flowers" a while back (in which i totally did the daily pass thing. yeah. totally!), and i thought it had a lot of potential for a platonic yan,, i didn't like the ending much for other reasons, but i'm fixing it here. with my oc. as god intended, of course. of course, if you're familiar with the webcomic at all, this isn't really that similar; except for the very core basis ^^ this is the option that won the second poll :D

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Everett has met a lot of people before, that's just how it is, being the son of a wealthy businessman and a socialite. He's met a lot of strange people as well, eccentric people that makes Everett need a double-take.

But none quite so strange as you, who simply... showed up in the back garden one day. You were disoriented, wearing odd clothes as you patted around your pockets for... something. A handkerchief, maybe?

Either way, you'd be an easy kill. He'd never seen you around before, perhaps a runaway then. Nobody would miss you, in that case. And If they did, then they'd have a difficult time tracing you all the way to Everett's backyard.

But something made that train of thought stop before it even fully departed. Something about you made him hesitate, and subsequently approach and offer you help. To pull you up, dazed as you were, and help you into the sitting room.

You continued to be quite out of it, and when he returned, tea in hand-- you took it without question. You hadn't said a word, not to him or otherwise. All you did was look around, face pinched like you trying to figure something out.

By the end of it, Everett isn't quite sure what made him take such a liking to you. When you opened up, you tripped over your words-- you sounded funny, regardless of that. Saying words and phrases he's never heard, but he didn't pay much mind to that.

Regardless of your little verbal stumbles, you ended up telling him that you 'don't know how you got here', which he assumed you meant the town in general, or maybe just his backyard specifically.

The first conversation he genuinely held with you, you would always give these nonsensical answers that provided no more knowledge than before. When he asked "Where are you from?" You'd respond with "Not here.", or how you got here-- you'd always pause, and try to think it over before finally settling on "...I don't know."

Amnestic, maybe? That's what he could make of it, anyways. Other than your dazed behavior, you showed no real signs of a concussion. He set you up in a guest room-- and he doesn't know what makes him do it. Even as you wake up the next morning, no longer so confused--

Usually, he wouldn't really like people like you. Those who treat him so casually, those who treat everybody like that; like they were everybody's pal. It irked Everett to no end before,

So why is it different when you do it? With your strange words, strange habits, and even stranger way of dress-- what's got him so interested in you?

What sets you apart of his usual fare--? He could go and argue that he helped you recover so he could add you to his roster of victims, because he's not one for kicking someone when their down...

But he couldn't even fool himself with that lie. Really, he doesn't know why or how you managed to worm your way into his good graces so quickly-- enough where he let you stay in his home for the time being.

He could be harboring a runaway, either from a family or maybe even if the law. That could put him in risk, if cops come looking for you-- find his home, found evidence of what he does in and around it.

Again, it's just something about you... It makes it impossible to even think of driving a knife straight through your heart. What would be easy for him with everyone else, was like fighting an uphill battle when it came to you.

Either way, he's not letting you go now. Not after week of getting to know you-- after getting you new clothes to help fit in, getting his parents to make the school take you as a student. Just so you didn't have to sit and rot in that big house all day, of course.

He won't let you outside the grounds. Maybe because he doesn't want his new friend taken, the only person that's been entirely immune to his constant need to hurt others-- either by yourself, or anyone who's looking for you.

But he doesn't tell you that. He says he just wants to make sure you're healthy and not about to keel over from an untreated brain injury and whatnot.

Everett has grown quite fond of you, even if you're a little strange.

Maybe it's because you're so strange, that you're exempt from his usually unforgiving drive to prey on others, and rip them limb from limb like they were bugs under a microscope.

[adrift-in-my-own-thoughts]

Yknow, what hurts me the most about Luka and Hyuna's relationship isn't even the fact that after god knows how many years without seeing her, Luka's first reaction to seeing Hyuna again is to smile. Because he's so in love with her that the literal gun against his head means nothing, just the fact that she's there is enough for him, allows him to feel truly happy, and his first thought is probably something along the lines of I missed you or I'm glad you're here or I want to hold you, to hug you again. Nor is it the fact that again, despite however many years it's surely been since she last saw him, Hyuna's immediate instinct to seeing Luka in potential danger is to throw herself into harm's way instead, sacrificing her own life just to make sure this boy with so many health issues, this puppet of the aliens, can live for a little longer.

No.

What saddens me the most about their relationship is the fact that Hyuna didn't hate him because she disliked Luka, she hated him because it was too dangerous to care about him. The only other person she ever loved that much was her brother Hyun Woo, and she watched him die in front of her eyes when they were all still children. This forced Hyuna to learn and accept that loving someone was too dangerous, risked both parties getting hurt whether with the intentions go hurt both or just as a side effect of one being hurt anyway. And so this other boy she loves, perfect, innocent Luka? What other choice does she have but to push him away to keep them both safe? She says at the end of Wiege that he was her only weakness, and I don't think that Hyuna meant because he was soft or weak himself (although that most likely is also true, judging from all his health conditions and etc), but because she couldn't possible bear the thought of losing someone else, and she couldn't let him get hurt from losing her like she was from losing Hyun Woo, either. She also said she had to keep moving forward, probably meaning she couldn't be held back by the fear or burden of caring about another as well.

So she's basically forced herself into hating Luka in order to protect them both, and I imagine she's managed to push him somewhere in the back of her mind for the last few years somewhat successfully, and yet. Yet she still rushes to save him when she sees that gun pointed at his head. She's injured and probably desperately needs medical care and is who knows how important a member of the rebels considering what we've seen her do for them so far and she still just runs as fast as she possibly can in that moment to move Luka out of the way and take the bullet herself. Luka probably wasn't even aware of what she was doing until the last second, when he was watching the life slowly leave Hyuna's eyes as he finally gets to hold her in his arms like he did when they were kids once more. And he will have to spend the rest of his life knowing that Hyuna's last action was to make sure he could live, knowing that her last breaths were spent telling him to forgive himself and live with love. And what do you do with that? When the one you love probably more than you even love yourself suddenly shows up out of nowhere and you can't even say a single word to them before they're just. Dead in your arms after literally giving more than they had to save you.

That's what hurts me the most about Luka and Hyuna's relationship. Despite everything, despite her best efforts, Hyuna still loved him so much that she sacrificed not only her own life, but potentially others as well if her role within the rebels or her knowledge was important enough. That Luka loves her so much he disregards his own safety to just rejoice in seeing her again. That he would've died happy knowing she was still safe, and yet she died instead so that he would be the one to stay safe, without even a second thought.

[nephilimeq]

Nobody Knows Me Like You

Prompt: Valentine's Day

@bucktommyfluffebruary

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/161567005

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” Howie muttered as Tommy swept past him to put his phone in front of Maddie, showing her the blender he’d found, saying, “So this is what I was thinking about, but I’m still not sure if Evan will like it,” feeling a flicker of apprehension as he tried to figure out what to buy for his boyfriend for Valentine’s Day.

Oddly enough, it was their first one. They had been together for six months and then had broken up for a few months—during which had been over Christmas and Valentine’s—which meant that they were celebrating together for the first time, and he had never been more nervous in his life. He had to find Evan something perfect. It needed to say that he knew him, loved him, and wanted to show him that he was planning on keeping him in his life for as long as he could…

…but without buying him a ring.

At least, not yet.

“It’s…nice,” Maddie said, sipping at her tea, and Tommy groaned and dropped his head to the counter with his arms out in front of him, holding onto his phone rather pathetically.

“Ugh, I’m gonna end up not getting anything for him at this rate,” he muttered. “Valentine’s day is in four days, and I still don’t have anything for him! Flowers and chocolate are too cliche. Jewelry is too much, a stuffed animal is too childish,” he began to list. “Clothes are too impersonal, a mixed tape or cd is too juvenile, fixing his car is something I would do anyway, and something handmade from me is like a 911 call just waiting to happen.”

At that, Howie laughed and interjected, “God, you’re pathetic! Look, you wanna know what to get him? I’ll tell you, but you’ll owe me…”

Tommy looked at his friend and simply let out a long sigh.

“You know what, I don’t care what I have to owe you, just help me…please.”

He knew he looked and sounded pathetic, but the airman no longer cared about saving face—all he cared about was getting Evan something that would make him happy. And if that meant owing one of his best friends an unknown favor, then so be it.

Howie then gave him an unnerving grin and said, “You’re gonna love this…”

--

Buck was scrambling. It was only three days before his first time celebrating Valentine’s Day with his boyfriend and he was terrified he was about to fuck it all up.

“I’m telling you, Eddie, I don’t know what to do!” he whined, and his friend rolled his eyes and said, “It’s just Valentine’s, man! It’s a commercialized holiday! I mean, sure, I’m a romantic at heart, but I’m also a pragmatist, and so is Tommy. He won’t take it personally if you don’t get him the ‘perfect’ gift, you know.”

He stared at his friend, trying to figure out why Eddie was being so blasé about the entire thing.

Buck was at his wit’s end trying to figure out what to get Tommy.

Helping Eddie with the hose, he explained, “Look, you need to understand that the two of us are celebrating our first Valentine’s Day together, despite us already living together, so it feels really different, you know? Instead of the low stakes of a first Valentine’s like most couples get to have, it’s more than that because we’ve been through so much already and we’re living together!” He tugged the last bit of the hose with a bit more force than necessary to emphasize his point. “Do you get that?”

“Okay, yeah, I kinda see your side of this,” his friend conceded…but then he added, “But at the same time, is there even a real reason to worry all that much? I mean, because you’ve been through so much together, you know you love each other, and so anything you can think of will surely be enough…”

Ugh. He hated it when Eddie made a good point.

He rolled his eyes and followed him into the rig, the warehouse fire put out behind them—and then had to deal with Chim and Hen attempting to give him advice on the way back, and he regretted ever opening his mouth.

“If you wanna get him something special, you could always go for some new cleaning supplies for his car,” Hen suggested, and Buck glared at her and replied, “It’s Valentine’s Day, not a random Saturday afternoon, Hen. That’s really the best you can come up with?”, which earned him a hard glare and Chimney suggesting, “What about a gift certificate to one of his favorite restaurants?”, which wasn’t a bad idea, per se, but it also felt a bit cheap considering he could probably cook him a better meal at home.

Deciding to incur the ire of another friend, however, he said, “Eh, maybe,” and decided to drop it.

--

Tommy stared at the wall of chocolate in front of him, wondering what Evan would like the most, feeling a rush of insecurity as he tried to decide between four different types of dark chocolate, feeling like a cheapskate because he genuinely couldn’t think of anything else.

Howie had told him what to get Evan—and he’d bought it—but it still didn’t feel like enough.

Actually, he wondered if his friend was pulling his leg because what he’d bought him had been far too simple and easy (though not something he would have thought of on his own), and so there the airman stood in the middle of the aisle of some fancy chocolatier shop in downtown L.A. that he had heard about through Sal’s wife, Maria. He had complained enough to Sal, that he had apparently complained to his wife, and she had called him earlier that day while on shift and told him about the place.

He stared down at the 72% dark chocolate bars, the aisle split up by percentages, and debated which flavor Evan would like the best.

The ones with chile and lime definitely seemed like something he would like…but then there was the blood orange, the blackberry medley, and the chicory, too…

…and Tommy finally snapped and got one of each, wincing as he thought of how much it was going to cost him. Four chocolate bars from this place was the equivalent of almost three quarters of a tank of gas and seemed wasteful—but he knew that Evan would at least appreciate the gesture, if nothing else.

“This better be worth it,” he muttered under his breath as he made his way to the register.

A minute later he was done, and he let out a sigh of relief as he got back into his truck and then headed back home. It was odd to go out and do things without his boyfriend now that they lived together, and he felt a faint tugging in his chest at the thought that he now had someone to come home to—though not at the moment, as Evan was still on shift and wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours, which gave him just enough time to wrap the chocolate bars and hide them away.

The second he walked through the front door, however, his phone rang.

“Hello?” he said, tucking the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he locked the door behind him, and a voice said, “Hey, Tommy. Have you already bought Buck his Valentine’s Day present?”

Eddie.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he answered, “Yes, I have. Now, why are you really calling me?” as he shuffled the items around in his hands so he could talk to him without dropping anything, already moving towards the closet where he kept the gift wrapping, and his friend replied, “Your boyfriend is panicking. Doesn’t know what to get you, so he’s been asking all of us for ideas, and I think he’s still sorta…you know…freaking out in the way that only Buck can freak out…”

Of course, he was, he thought to himself, feeling a flicker of concern over his boyfriend’s state of mind, wishing he wouldn’t worry so much. Tommy honestly didn’t want anything, he just wanted to spend the day with Evan and enjoy the fact that they had each other.

“Of course, he is. What else would he be doing?” he said, putting a pink and red bag onto the counter and pulling out a random pile of white tissue paper, automatically wrapping as he continued to talk on the phone.

Eddie chuckled.

“Yeah, you know Buck—but at the same time, it’s kinda cute seeing him all worked up about what to get you. So, I’m biting the bullet and asking: what do you want?” he pressed, and Tommy could hear in his tone that he was being serious and was trying to do his friend a solid…and he felt rather useless as he admitted, “I just want to spend the day with him. Wrap him up in my arms and forget the world for a while, you know?”

There was a long pause, and he was suddenly afraid he had said too much.

…but then Eddie said, “Yeah, I get that, but still: what do you want?”

--

“Okay, you’re sure this is the right thing to get him?” Buck asked, shooting a glance at Eddie over his shoulder as they stood in front of the array of flowers in the flower shop, and his friend let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his head on his shoulders.

“For the hundredth time, yes! Now, will you just pick one so we can go? Also, why am I here for this?” he said as he reached out and looked closely at one of the tags on a bundle of roses, shaking his head.

Buck gave his friend a look.

“You’re here for this because you said you’d help me with Tommy’s gift. Now—roses or carnations?”

Eddie shook his head and said, “Neither. Both are overrated and Tommy would want something…different,” and Buck felt his irritation rise even further than before, the urge to turn around and punch him rising with every passing moment. “I mean, think about his favorite color—he goes for blue a lot, you know? So maybe something like…these,” he said, reaching for some blue flowers that shimmered enticingly, and Buck read the label, which said delphinium elatum.

“Blue? Really? But…it’s Valentine’s Day. I kinda feel like I should go for something pink or red, or even white, you know?” he hedged, still glancing over at the roses—and then was taken off guard when his friend suddenly bit out, “God, why are you so dense? He likes blue flowers because they remind him of your eyes! Fuck!”

Wait…what?

He felt an odd sensation on the back of his neck as he put things together, and he said, “Hold on, have you…Eddie, have you been talking with Tommy?” and his friend nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I have, and can I just say that he has the patience of a saint putting up with you? I mean, my god! You have two days before Valentine’s Day and you’re freaking out over-over-over flowers, Buck!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide and causing a scene in the middle of the flower shop. “Do you have any idea how in love with you Tommy is? That man would be happy if you just showed up! I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so ridiculously in love as you two! You don’t need to do anything except show up!” he repeated, looking borderline pissed.

Buck shrunk in on himself slightly, once more feeling like the insecure eighteen-year-old who had run way from home, feeling equal parts chastened and grateful. While it hadn’t been the best way to say it, he could hear what Eddie was trying to tell him: that Tommy didn’t care what he got him because he loved him more than anything else.

“I think I’ll get the delphiniums,” he finally said with a grin, clapping Eddie on the shoulder.

“Oh, thank god. Can we go, now?”

Buck laughed and nodded and added, “Yeah, we can go. And thanks for putting up with me,” and Eddie snorted and shook his head and quipped, “Yeah, well, someone has to.”

--

It was Valentine’s Day and Tommy was putting the finishing touches on the present that he’d purchased, feeling a frisson of nerves at the thought of Evan not liking it—even though Howie had told him probably about a hundred times that his boyfriend would love it.

He stared at the ribbon that he’d tied around it, remembering the ribbon he’d put on the oven before he had surprised Evan with it.

“You’ve got this,” he muttered to himself in a pathetic attempt at a pep-talk. “You’ve got this…”

He moved over to the mirror and checked himself over, making sure he looked presentable as he listened to his boyfriend in the bathroom finishing getting ready. They were going out to dinner and so he had put on his black suit with a white button up underneath, not bothering with the tie. Evan had told him the last time that he had worn a suit that it had been the hottest thing he had ever seen, so he was indulging him and making sure that the evening would be a memorable one.

He had made reservations at a small place that he knew Evan had been wanting to try for a while.

…and just as he thought about possibly changing his jacket, Evan emerged from the bathroom fully dressed in his own charcoal suit with a deep red shirt that made his eyes pop, curls looking fresh, and he let out a low whistle and said, “Look at you, babe…damn. I can see that look in your eyes, don’t even think about changing! Those pants are awesome for your ass and that suit jacket makes you look good enough to eat…”

Tommy chuckled and turned and reached out to his boyfriend, pulling him in.

“Good to know. Speaking of eating, you ready to go?”

Evan nodded, his blue eyes sparkling, and the airman knew that it didn’t matter what he gave him, he was happy enough to have him in his life. Evan could give him the worst present in the world, and it wouldn’t have mattered—because he had him.

Smiling, he said, “Good, let’s go,” and quickly ushered him down the stairs and through the front door, present tucked inside his jacket.

His boyfriend had already greeted him with flowers when he’d come home, blue delphiniums that were the exact same shade as his eyes, and it was easily already the most romantic present that he’d ever been given, and he had told him that—and continued to tell him that as he drove them to the restaurant.

“Seriously, Evan. Those flowers are the most beautiful things I’ve ever received,” he repeated one last time as they dropped off the truck with the valet, and Evan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you’ve said that, like, ten times now.”

“So?”

He rolled his eyes a second time and drawled, “Sooo…can we please move past it? I just wanna have a romantic dinner with my boyfriend and talk about something stupid for the next couple of hours,” he said as he tugged at his hand, pulling him into the restaurant, and Tommy smiled indulgently at him and nodded and said, “Okay, sure. That sounds good to me,” and let him lead him into the restaurant, loving it when Evan took charge and said, “Two for Kinard,” and he felt his stomach flip at the thought of him having his last name one day.

Someday soon, he hoped.

--

Buck grinned as he made his way to their table, holding his boyfriend’s hand the entire way, feeling a giddiness about being out on Valentine’s Day with him. They had celebrated a few holidays as a couple, but Valentine’s Day was different from the rest—and they both knew it.

Actually, it was the first time he had ever been in a relationship during the holiday, and it made him feel an excitement he’d never felt before.

“And here’s your table,” the waiter said, and he nodded his thanks, and they sat down across from each other, a candle on the table.

Buck admired his boyfriend as he sat across from him, barely keeping himself in check. Tommy looked damn good every other day of the week, good enough that both men and women regularly hit on him…but right now?

Goddamn, he was barely keeping himself in check.

Tommy looked like pure sin sitting there in a pristine white button up that had the first few buttons undone, exposing the long column of his throat, and as he glanced down at the menu, Buck was completely distracted by the way the angle of the older man’s collar emphasized the sharp jut of his jawline and the exquisite cut of his cheekbones, his steel blue eyes glowing in the candlelight that lit the table between them, his black suit coat a stark contrast to his shirt.

Fuck, he wanted to jump him right then and there.

Marshalling what little control he had, he said, “So, uh…the appetizers look good, don’t they?” even though he hadn’t even glanced at the menu, the weight of it heavy in his hands as he kept on drinking in the sight of the man in front of him.

“Evan, you haven’t even looked at the menu,” Tommy said without even glancing up at him, and he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, yeah…good point.”

He looked down at the tiny font and pretended to scan it for a moment…but then looked back up and leaned in and whispered, “You look so damn good right now, I can barely concentrate, so is it alright if you just order for us?” and smiled when Tommy snorted and shook his head and said, “Oh, you are adorable…but, no,” and finally looked up at him. “If you let me order, I will purposely get you something you don’t like just to teach you a lesson, but I don’t want to do that because it’s Valentine’s Day, so please—please—just look at the damn menu.”

Buck slowly smiled and nodded and then actually took a good long look at the menu, his eyes alighting quickly on two things that he knew he would enjoy without having to deal with any unexpected surprises, and by the time the waitress came back to them, they both put in their meal orders, along with their drinks, and then he settled back in his chair and began to trace a finger around the edge of his water glass as he admired his boyfriend one more time.

“You really do look gorgeous tonight,” he said, thrilled when he saw a faint pink tinge in the other man’s cheeks.

“And you seem determined to make me make a fool of myself tonight. What about you, Mister Buckley?” he retorted, giving him an appreciative look over the edge of his water glass. “You are cutting a fine figure in that gray suit of yours…”

“It’s charcoal.”

Tommy arched an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, my bad.”

They shared a look…and then both broke out into giggles, and as they did, Buck felt Tommy’s real present burning a hole in his pocket and decided that he couldn’t wait until the end of the meal and quickly pulled it out and slid the slim box across the table and said, “I can’t wait until later. Here. This is for you.”

--

Tommy stared at the slim black box Evan had just pushed towards him, beautifully tied with a deep red ribbon into a slightly asymmetrical bow that felt delightfully ‘Evan’.

Curious enough to not ask him why he wanted to exchange gifts right at that moment, he simply nodded, and pulled the box towards him, gently tugging on one of the ribbons before lifting the lid…and then let out a soft gasp at the sight that greeted him.

Resting in a deep red velvet that matched the ribbon was a beautiful watch that he immediately recognized.

“Is that…Evan. How on earth did you…? How…?” was all he was able to get out as he gently removed it from its velvet cushion and brought it closer to the light of the candle so that he could admire the craftsmanship of it—as well as confirm that it was what he thought it was. “This…this is a Bell & Ross BR-03. This…is…it’s a work of art! How did you even afford this?” he found himself asking, hating that that was the first question he could think of, wincing at how it sounded.

But before he could correct himself, Evan was grinning and saying, “I, uh, I found a widow in the area who was selling her husband’s watches—he used to be a pilot—and saw she had one that looked exactly like one of the ones you showed me a couple months ago that you were saving up for, so I…I haggled with her a bit and I got it. You…you really like it?”

He shot him a look.

“Evan, I love it. It’s perfect,” the airman declared as he slid up both the sleeve of his coat and his shirt to put the watch on immediately.

He kept on glancing down at it and then back up at Evan, trying to understand how he had gotten so damn lucky to have a boyfriend like him. The watch was literally the most perfect thing that anyone had ever gotten him—everything down to even the material of the wrist band was exactly what he wanted.

“Yeah, well…I hoped you’d like it,” his boyfriend added with a bashful smile. Fuck, he was perfect.

…and now Tommy couldn’t help but feel that his own gift paled in comparison (even though Howie had told him several times over already that it was perfect).

Still, he managed to marshal his courage and pulled out a similar box from his own suit jacket and cautiously slid it across the table, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Evan carefully untie the pink ribbon he had used…

…and his heart stopped when he lifted the lid.

“Tommy…”

The silence stretched. Oh, god. Was that good? Or bad?

“You got me a behind-the-scenes tour of Aquarium of the Pacific?!” he practically shouted, and he watched as his boyfriend nearly stood from his chair—but then suddenly remember that they were in a public place and stayed sitting, his gaze glued to the tickets in his hand, eyes wide as he pulled out the folded piece of paper underneath it that explained what all he would be seeing and when it was taking place (in exactly one month).

He quickly scanned it and then said excitedly, “Oh my god, this isn’t just a tour, this-this-this is a full private showing with their head trainer and their head researcher that works with the National Wildlife Foundation! Oh my god, Tommy…” He lifted his eyes back to his, and for a brief moment he swore he could see twelve-year-old Evan Buckley sitting in front of him. “…this is literally the best gift that anyone has ever given me in my life. Ever,” he repeated emphatically, reaching across the table with his free hand to grab at his own, their fingers tightening almost painfully. “How...how did…how did you know?? I’ve, I’ve never told anyone…wait. You talked to Chimney, didn’t you?” he accused, and Tommy nodded.

“Yeah, I talked to Howie. And apparently I now owe him one. Or two. Honestly, I don’t know what I owe him at this point,” he said, shaking his head and reaching for his water with his free hand. “But apparently it was the right call…”

They exchanged a look.

And then his boyfriend said, “This is gonna be hard to top. What are we gonna do next year?”

Get married, he thought to himself…but out loud he said just as Evan took a sip of his water, “Hole up in a hotel for two days and fuck each other silly, of course,” grinning when the younger firefighter coughed and nearly choked on his water, thrilled that he’d managed to garner such a reaction.

“That…that’s not a bad idea.”

Tommy shrugged and said, “Yeah, I occasionally have good ones from time to time, it’s been known to happen,” and right as he said that, their food arrived and they shared a quick grin and began to eat, tangling their feet together under the table as they did so, and the airman relished the intimacy and closeness, feeling like he had finally found the person who knew him inside and out, in every sense of the word, and made the mental note to start looking for rings.

God, he couldn’t wait to be married to that man.

--

Buck noticed his boyfriend giving him a dopey smile and asked, “What’s that smile for?” and he just shook his head.

“Nothing. Just…thinking about how much I love you.”

He suspected that wasn’t the entire truth…but he was okay with not knowing what he was really thinking. Hell, this was probably the most perfect night that he had ever experienced in his life, and he didn’t want to ruin it by pushing anything too hard. Besides, Tommy would tell him if something was really on his mind.

They finished dinner fairly quickly—and then Buck was thrilled when Tommy ordered them both dessert in fluent French, something that sounded decadent and sinfully good.

“Fuck, it’s hot when you pull out the French,” he said, unable to help himself, curling his ankle around the back of his, and his boyfriend gave him a look.

“Hot, huh? Want me to start using it in the bedroom? I can start calling you mon petit garçon,” he said as he smirked at him, and Buck felt his stomach flip and he knew that his eyes had dilated, and he tried his best to glare at him.

“Don’t…don’t do that. Not here.”

Tommy chuckled, the sound low, warm, and promising, and he felt it as if his boyfriend had just run his stubbled jaw along the inside of his thighs, the tone of his voice having the same effect on him, even from a distance, and he shifted in his chair to try and hide the effect that it was having on him. As he moved, however, his boyfriend shot him a knowing look, and Buck knew that he knew the effect he was having on him.

Smug bastard, he thought to himself.

Still reeling from the present Tommy had given him, he said one last time, “Seriously, this gift, it’s really…it’s really the most amazing thing anyone has ever gotten me,” and reached out for his hand across the table, feeling a sense of relief when his boyfriend squeezed his fingers and gave him a soft smile.

“I’m really glad you like it, Ev.”

He looked like he was about to say something else—but then dessert arrived, and Buck stared at the chocolate concoction that was placed on the table between them with two spoons and he marveled at it for a moment before saying, “Okay, now this…this looks like the best thing I’ve never had. What is this?”

“It’s called gâteau royal,” Tommy explained as he dug his spoon into it. “It’s made from almond meringue, praline feuilletine, and the top layer is dark chocolate mousse. It’s also sometimes called a Trianon because it has three layers…”

Buck took a bit and moaned at the rich flavor that exploded across his tongue.

Tommy shot him a look, one eyebrow raised.

“Evan…save those sounds for later.”

He smirked.

Yeah, this was the best Valentine’s Day ever.

[yangjungwonisms]

Play the Game- YJW/ LHS/ Reader

warnings: NSFW, MDNI 18+

hi everyone! I wrote this about a week ago! I’m really nervous to post it here as I’ve never written member/member before. Technically when part 2-3 comes out it’ll be written as a threesome or even poly. I hope you all like it! and if you don’t, oh well!

Jungwon knew from the minute he introduced you to his friends that Heeseung had a crush on you. In the years since you two had started dating Heeseung became more and more obvious about his feelings towards you. In all that time Heeseung was very careful never to step out of line because his friendship with Jungwon meant too much for him to end it over a crush. Still, Jungwon tried to be sensitive about it at first, he’d memorize Heeseung’s schedule so you two could have your more intimate moments in private. But there were times Heeseung accidentally caught the two of you. Most of the time you and Jungwon were only kissing and nothing more, but sometimes he caught the briefest glimpses of Jungwon fucking you. He had to give Jungwon credit, he oftentimes heard the ferocity with which Jungwon fucked you and how it seemed to without fail reduce you to tears everytime. It made him more jealous than he could put into words.

Sometimes Heeseung would pretend he wasn’t home when he knew you two would be there so he could hear you. He couldn’t help himself, whenever he heard you two start to go at it he’d slowly start to palm himself over his jeans and most of the time he’d fuck into his fist trying to match the pace at which you were getting fucked by Jungwon. He had been attracted to you since the moment he had met you. But he would never do anything that would jeopardize your relationship with Jungwon. He never intended to catch you guys fucking but living with Jungwon there were some times it was unavoidable to be home at the same time. Still, he tried to be respectful about it. At first he’d make sure he was gone when you’d come over, other times he’d just pretend he didn’t hear anything. He felt even worse about getting himself off to the idea of you being fucked next door. But it wasn’t just you he was imagining. He wasn’t sure when it had started but over time the fantasies began to include Jungwon. But not long before he started thinking that way about Jungwon he had walked into the living room to see you on your knees giving Jungwon head. He stood and watched for far longer than was appropriate. What stood out to him the most was how attractive Jungwon looked with his head thrown back, biting his lip to try and keep from moaning. He stood there and watched Jungwon hold your head in place and start to fuck your mouth. Almost as if his body was moving on autopilot he snuck his hand down his

pants and started jerking himself off.

Jungwon knew he was there though, what he didn’t know though was how much Heeseung seemed to enjoy seeing him get his dick sucked. At some point Jungwon looked up and made eye contact with Heeseung. Heeseung’s movements still immediately, frozen in place, unable to physically walk away. Jungwon simply winked at him and motioned for him to continue. After that to work him up more he started moaning and fucking up into your mouth at a brutal speed. Heeseung couldn’t believe what was happening, he’d been best friends with Jungwon for years and they’d never found themselves in a situation like this. But it was too late to back out when Jungwon was staring at Heeseung daring him to fuck into his fist harder and even more so when he mouthed for him to cum. Jungwon had timed it perfectly for him to finish when Heeseung did. Jungwon had never thought about Heeseung that way but he loved the power he felt watching Heeseung silently heed his orders.

After that encounter Heeseung did his best to avoid you both for awhile. He had crossed a line and he knew it, he couldn’t bring himself to face Jungwon after what he had done. But one night when he thought he was alone in the apartment he thought back to what happened with Jungwon and before he knew it he was palming himself over his sweats until he was hard. Without you two there he was finally able to make as much noise as he wanted without worrying about being caught. That is until he gets a call from Jungwon. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to answer in the first place but somehow he found himself hitting accept. He did his best to collect himself before answering but yet he couldn’t Shake the idea that he had been caught. He didn’t know how right he had been. Since the incident Jungwon had been planning a way to get Heeseung alone to see if he could recreate what happened between them. Some twisted part of Jungwon needed to know what exactly it was about the situation that made Heeseung stroke himself to completion with Jungwon right in front of him. So when you weren’t able to come over that night Jungwon knew he had the perfect opportunity fall right into his lap.

Jungwon played his cards extremely close to his chest, he had planned it down to a T. He knew Heeseung would be out for the majority of the day so all he had to do was remain extremely silent so when Heeseung arrived home he had no idea he was still there. Everything worked perfectly when not more than an hour after he had gotten home Jungwon heard the familiar tell tale signs of Heeseung getting himself off. He hadn’t planned on actually calling him, but the louder Heeseung got the more turned on Jungwon became. So without a moment of hesitation Jungwon picked up his phone and dialed Heeseung’s number. Heeseung picked up and even though he could tell how hard he was trying to sound put together that anyone would be able to surmise what he had just been doing. “Hey won, what’s up”? He’s far more out of breath than he’d like to be when he speaks. “I can hear you, you know. Sounds like you’re really getting into it huh”? Jungwon couldn’t see him but he knew Heeseung’s eyes were wide open in fear. Heeseung felt the familiar warmth of pleasure start to shoot through his body again at the younger’s teasing words. “Shit, I didn’t think you were home. I’m sorry”. Heeseung knew he had been caught and he was a terrible liar and there was nothing he’d ever be able to say that would make Jungwon believe him. “What were you thinking about”?

Heeseung knew Jungwon had to be fucking with him at this point, there’s no way in hell he just asked him what he was thinking about while he was jerking himself off. “I- I uh don’t know what you mean”. He thought if he just pretended Jungwon wasn’t saying those words to him and asking questions he shouldn’t be then it would go away. “You know exactly what I mean baby. Now tell me, what got you so worked up that you were whining like a little bitch”? Baby? Jungwon called him baby, and why did it prompt Heeseung to put his hand back down his pants and slowly start to stroke himself. Jungwon knew he won when he heard the subtle little pants from the other end of the line. “Um-oh fuck, was thinking about you”. Jungwon couldn’t help the heat that had started to spread through his body hearing the way Heeseung was pretending he wasn’t affected by Jungwon’s words. He had been lazily palming himself since he heard Heeseung start touching himself earlier. “What about me”? Heeseung couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of his mouth at that. “Fuck- was thinking about how you looked the other day getting your cock sucked”. At that Jungwon snuck his hand underneath his pants, but not before he spit into his hand. But still Jungwon wouldn’t give in that easily. “Yeah? Too bad you didn’t get to see my cock for yourself. Hm you touching yourself for me baby”? Heeseung couldn’t pretend any longer that he wasn’t about to cum with Jungwon on the other line. “Yeah- fuck baby, I’m touching myself for you. Feels so good. I can’t stop. Haven’t been able to stop touching myself since the other day”.

Jungwon lost all sense of self control, starting to fuck into his fist slowly. He was doing absolutely nothing to disguise the wet noises coming from his hand working his cock. He didn’t even try to quiet himself either, moaning with abandon. “Fuck baby- made me hard for you too. I’m touching my cock right there with you hee”. At the nickname Heeseung’s hips stuttered into his hand making him work harder for his release after that. Without a second thought Jungwon put his phone on speaker, opening the camera and taking a quick picture of his hand wrapped around his cock. He pressed send immediately after. “Sent you something for being such a good boy for me”. Heeseung’s breath caught in his throat seeing how hard Jungwon’s cock stood in that picture. He had only ever seen his own cock but he briefly wondered if he was missing out never exploring it further. The tip was turning a deep shade of red from how long Jungwon had been teasing himself. He was beyond ready to cum at that point. “You like what you see baby”? Heeseung had to take a second to pick his jaw up off the floor. “Fuck your cock looks so good. You’re so fucking hard oh my god”. At that Jungwon started fucking into his fist faster, trying his best to match the rhythm Heeseung had set. “Yeah. It’s all for you hee”. Heeseung set out to take a quick picture of his cock to send to Jungwon. Call it his attempt at evening the scale. “Oh shit hee, you never told me you had such a big cock. You’ll have to show me in person next time”. Heeseung couldn’t physically speak anymore being too close to cumming. All it would take was one simple command from Jungwon to have Heeseung fall apart for him.

They were both too busy moaning to continue a conversation. Except Heeseung had this sick need inside of him to hold off on finishing until Jungwon gave him express permission. “Fuck, can I cum please? Need it so bad”. Jungwon felt smug satisfaction course through his body as he fought to stave off his orgasm. “Fuck yeah baby, cum for me”. It was a chain reaction for the two men. Once Jungwon told Heeseung he could cum it triggered both of them to fall apart with a swift synchronicity to it. It didn’t take long for the awkwardness to set in after that. Jungwon told Heeseung one more time how good he was for him and then bid him goodbye. Heeseung felt like a piece of shit after that, for one Jungwon was in a committed relationship. What Heeseung didn’t know was that the night he caught you sucking Jungwon off that you had been made aware of it afterwards. You liked the idea so much that you and Jungwon were fucking for hours that night at the mere thought of it. Jungwon confessed to you that he liked being caught by Heeseung more than he thought he would. It was then he asked you how you’d feel about him playing with Heeseung a little bit and then potentially bringing him into your sexual relationship. You voiced your approval and sent Jungwon off to start planning. Jungwon would eventually put Heeseung out of his misery and reassure him that he didn’t mess anything up in your relationship and that you were well aware of what happened and had encouraged your boyfriend to explore that side of himself. A day would come soon when Heeseung would find out just how far you two were willing to go.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Waiting

{Lucifer x Eve!Reader}

Warning(s): Verbal/Mental/Emotional Abuse, Mentions Of Blood/Injury, Angst With Happy End

Two humans, the very first created, a man named Adam and a woman named Eve. Both created to be made for each other, to live out their immortal lives in the garden. However, their love was broken. Adam, demanded control from Eve, she was to obey his every command without question.

But Eve refused to be a slave for the man she was meant to be her equal. One day, she had finally had enough of him and ran far away from the garden.

Alone, she rested beneath the shade of a great apple tree. Her weeping caught the attention of an angel. He looked down at the woman, at first, not approaching. He only watched her for a moment, admiring her beauty. Though, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Eventually he flew down.

"Excuse me, miss?"

The woman gasped and looked up from where she sat. The before her was a pale Seraphim Angel. His golden hair seemed to shine in the soft sunlight, his wings fluttered as they folded into place, bright blue eyes meeting hers.

"Why do you cry?" His voice was so gentle and comforting to her. The woman sniffled before wiping her eyes. "My husband, he can be so cruel." She tells him. "I know I was made for him, that I am to be his bride. But I just can't stand it any longer!"

The angel didn't need to be told much else than that. He knew of Adam and his ways, so he could sympathize with the woman. The angel leaned down to offer his hand. "I am sorry. To think anyone could mistreat such a gentle being."

The woman looked at his hand for a moment before taking it, and rising to a stand. "Who are you?" She asks. The angel smiles and bows slightly. "Lucifer Morningstar. It's a please to meet you."

"The Lucifer Morningstar?" The woman gasped in awe. A sudden urge to bow her head, upon realizing just who she was speaking to. Lucifer chuckles. "The one and only. And you must be the lovely, Eve."

Eve nods her head. "I am." Her breath hitched slightly as she felt Lucifer's finger tips at her chin. He moved her to look up from her bow. "Please, raise your head. There's no need to be so formal, dear."

"But, you are-"

"I am aware of who I am." Lucifer interrupts. "If I wanted to command respect, I would have my head held high, and looking down upon you like the rest of those uptight angels." He said with a chuckle. "You need not worry, please, relax yourself."

Eve smiled slightly. Who knew Lucifer Morningstar could be so friendly. She was taught her whole life to respect the angels above, without them, she would be lost. No, without them, she would not even exist.

But with Lucifer, Eve felt so...calm. Like she, for once, could truly be herself. Without the fear of being judged or frowned upon.

And that's how it was, for some time after. Soon, the two grew to be close friends. Well, that's what they liked to tell themselves. Truly, the two had began to develop feelings for each other.

Though, they dare not act on said feelings. For they knew if they were to, Heavenly punishment would befall them both.

And so, they tried to ignore their feelings, and stay friends. However, it wouldn't be long before Heaven learned of their close friendship. Lucifer was warned to leave Eve to Adam, as it was not his place to intrude.

But that never stopped Lucifer, he'd sneak away to see her as often as he could. He taught her so many things about the world around her. And even the world above her. He would tell her stories, and sharing his dreams. One day, Lucifer asked Eve to meet him under the apple tree where they first met, so he may finally tell her what he's been planning for many years.

"Are you sure no one saw you?" Asked Eve worryingly. "I'd hate for you to get into trouble because of me." Lucifer offered her a reassuring smile. "No one saw me, I promise. Now, there's something I want tell you. And I would love to hear your thoughts."

Eve nods. "Alright, what is it?" A look of excitement graced Lucifer's features. He took a breath before explaining his dream, of gifting humanity free will. They would be able to think for themselves, feel what they truly feel, go anywhere, do so many wonderful things. Because, they will have the choice to do so.

Eve couldn't have been more thrilled with the idea. If Lucifer's dream could become reality, that would mean she too would be freed from the limits of the garden. Freed from her controlling husband. And free from the watchful eyes of Heaven.

"I think it's an amazing idea, Lucifer!" Eve says cheerfully. "Just think of everything we could accomplish if we only have the will to do so! I could be whatever I wanted, not just some bride. I could leave this garden, I could be free!" She went on, her heart thumping wildly with excitement.

"I could be with you." She said to Lucifer. "And no one could tell me it's wrong."

Lucifer's cheeks turned a light shade of gold. "I-I suppose you're right." He said with a smile. "So, you really think it could work?" Eve nods. "I do, I really do!"

"Good." Lucifer waved his hand, and suddenly an apple manifested in his palm. "Because all I need now, is for you to take the first step." Eve looked at the apple with curiosity as Lucifer handed it to her.

"Just one bite is all it will take."

Even looked up from the apple at Lucifer. "And I will be free? To do what I want, and, to be with you?" Lucifer nods. "All that, and more, my dear. You'll be free to do whatever. Is there anything you'd want to do first?"

Eve paused as she thought about it, then finally, she answered. "I would like to be my own person. Not someone who was made for someone else."

Lucifer nods. "I couldn't agree more."

"Maybe I could have a new name?" Eve wondered aloud. "But what would be called?" This time Lucifer was quiet as he thought. Then, he answered.

"Y/n. I've always liked how that name sounded."

Eve hummed before testing the name a few times. "Y/n. My name is, Y/n." She nods. "Yes, I like that name. Even more so, because you gave it to me." Y/n once again looked at the apple, new waves of excitement washed over her at the thought of a new life.

Y/n then brought the apple close to her mouth, and took a bite.

Freedom, was within her reach. And yet, what would follow, would lead Eve to regret that one action for the rest of her life.

"Lucifer Morningstar. You have been accused of conspiring against Heaven, tempting Y/n into committing an act of sin, and betraying Heaven and it's people. How do you plea?" Sera, lead Seraphin asked as she looked down at Lucifer.

Lucifer glared back up at her, his body ached as it had beaten and battered by battle. His left upper wing suffered a heavenly spear wound, now unable to move it or heal it properly, thanks to the angelic chains that tied him down. Both restraining him, and quelling any of his magic.

Y/n's cries were heard throughout the courtroom, her pleas for the court to forgive Lucifer would not be heard. She too, was bound by chains, as she was just as guilty as Lucifer for falling for his temptation.

"Guilty." Lucifer spat. "I will admit that, I am guilty of everything you've said. But I will not admit guilt for doing what I believe is right. Your old ways of thinking will be your undoing."

"It will be your undoing, Lucifer Morningstar." Sera narrowed her eyes. "Heaven has no room for souls who wish to throw off the balance of good and evil. And you certainly have." This time, she looked to Y/n as well.

"Because your actions, sin has found it's way to Earth. Humanity will become corrupt and wicked, thanks to your free will. Humanity will know pain, suffering, death, all because you both acted out of line."

"Please!" Y/n cried. "He didn't know! He didn't know this would be the result! Please, forgive him!"

"And act as vile as this can not be easily forgiven." Said Sera lowly. "It will be decided now, what your punishments will be."

"Eve, shall be indefinitely kept under the watchful eye of your rightful partner, Adam."

Y/n felt her heart plumet into the pit of her gut. But what came next was far more worse that what she could have imagined.

"Lucifer Morningstar. For your transgressions against Heaven, you will be exiled. Casted down, into the fiery pits of Hell, where you will live among the rest of sinful souls who will reside there, for all eternity."

"No!" Y/n tried to jerk out from her chains, but her attempts were in vain.

Lucifer barely had time to catch another glimpse at Y/n before the ground beneath him gave way. The chains that bound him vanished just in time for him to be sent falling down. As Heaven's light grew smaller and smaller, Lucifer yelled out in fury and sorrow, for he has lost everything.

His wails so loud, that it could still be heard from within the courtroom, until finally the portal closed, and Y/n was met with deafening silence.

"Lucifer..." A broken sob left her. "Lucifer!"

Sera looked to the angels who held Y/n in place. "Escort her back to Adam." She said before dismissing the court. Y/n, still chained, was lead out of the room.

Soon she was back in the garden, where Adam was waiting for her.

"About time!" Adam groaned before looking to the two angels. "I'll take it from here." They both nod and let Y/n go, before swiftly leaving the two.

Adam looked furious as he approached Y/n. "You have got some nerve! Bad enough you tried running away from me, but going behind my back and plotting with that defective angel!?"

Y/n, through her tears yelled back. "What did you expect!? From the moment I was created, you have controlled every little thing I have ever done. You told me how to act, how to think, and how I should feel! Lucifer was the only one who ever made me feel like I was more than what I was made for! Of course I left you!"

Adam's anger only grew as she went on. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm tightly, making her flinch. "Left me? No, you haven't left me. You don't get to leave me! And I made sure you won't ever try to again." He jerked her towards him as he walked, his grip on her arm tightening, so that she would not get away.

"Let me go! Where are you taking me?" Y/n asked in a panic. After another moment or two of walking, they reached a large clearing within the garden, surrounded by large trees.

In the middle of the clearing, was a giant cage, similar to that of a bird's cage. Golden, shining as it reflected the sun's rays. A rather fancy looking prison.

"What is this?" Y/n muttered fearfully. Adam pulled her along once again, until they reached the entrance of the cage. Adam looked down at her before smirking. "You're new home."

Y/n barely had time to think before she was thrown inside, the cage door slamming shut behind her. She turned to face Adam, who stared back at her with triumph. "Now, let's see you try and leave me again."

Y/n grabbed at the bars and glared at Adam. “Let me out!”

“Afraid I can’t do that.” Adam responded. “I can’t trust you to be loose, just for you to crawl back to that sinful traitor.”

“He isn’t a traitor! He didn’t know all of this would happen, otherwise he would have never done it!” Y/n argued. “If his fellow angels would have just heard him out, or helped him, maybe things would have turned out different.”

“Oh please.” Adam rolled his eyes. “Listen up, you’re not leaving this cage. Not until you are ready to admit that you are mine and mine only. Got it?”

Y/n wanted to scream, to yell at the top of her lungs how much she hated Adam and everyone else who looked down at Lucifer. But it wouldn’t do her any good.

She was trapped. Forever separated from the one she cares for most. From the one she loved, more than anything or anyone else. Forever.

Forever, and yet, Y/n was ready to wait. She would wait forever if that’s what it took. She would not give up on Lucifer, like so many have. She wouldn’t love anyone other than him.

She would wait for him.

Waiting. It was all Y/n could do. She waited until her final breath was drawn. Waited long after her soul entered Heaven. Waited as she was kept under Adam’s watch.

There were times she was sure she would go insane. And all the while, Adam did nothing but watch, and savor in her suffering.

Even in death, she was not free from her prison. She was not free from him. She would not allow herself to be called Adam’s wife, therefore she would remain trapped.

But she’d rather go on for all eternity than give Adam what he wants.

The only power she had was what was gifted to her when she entered Heaven. She and Adam both, once they were given their wings, were also give an angelic power.

But because of the cage Y/n was trapped in, her magic was restricted. But the power was there, waiting for her command. If only she had the freedom to do so.

With a sigh, Y/n made up her mind right then. If she were to get anywhere, she would have to gain Adam’s trust.

If that’s what it takes then…

So be it.

One night, Adam visited her once again. And Y/n finally gave in.

“Is there nothing I can do, to convince you to free me?” Y/n asked. Adam shrugs. “You already know, Eve.”

“I told you my name is-”

“Your name is Eve.” Adam said firmly.

Y/n bit back the urge to argue. She couldn’t afford to upset him now. “You wish for me to be your wife so badly?”

“I don’t need to wish for anything. You are my wife, always have been, always will be.” Adam tells her, matter-of-factly. “All you gotta do is admit it. And maybe, I’ll consider forgiving you.”

Y/n held back a sigh before speaking. “I don’t want to be trapped. And all it will take is admitting I have been your wife from the beginning?”

“Mhm. Tick-Tock, I’m not gonna keep wasting time here.” Adam said impatiently. Y/n could laugh. Adam claimed that she was his wife, that she belonged to him only.

And yet. He was disloyal to her. Really, Y/n was nothing less than a trophy. Something pretty to look at. Not a wife. Nothing more.

“Then.” Y/n reached her hand outside of the bars. “I will be yours, and only yours.”

A lie. A terrible lie. But this was what Adam wanted to hear. And it would get her one step closer to freedom.

There was a brief pause of silence between the two. The, Adam took hold of her hand, and before Y/n could start to speak, she was harshly pulled towards him. She was just able to stop her face from colliding with the bars, the look in Adam's eyes frightened her.

"Let me make this very clear right now." Adam started. "I won't hear another peep out of you about Lucifer ever again. If I do, I make you regret it, to where you will yearn for this cage. The sooner you accept that bastard is gone the better. He isn't coming to save you. Got it?"

Y/n tried her best to stay calm and collected, she gave a nod of her head. "As you wish."

It was Hell in paradise with Adam. Every moment Y/n spent with him wore down on her mentality more and more. As if it weren't enough with him reminding her that Lucifer was a "traitor" and would never return. But he would continue to treat her as less than, as if she never were his equal.

And truly, she never was.

But it would not last much longer. With every passing day, Y/n's power grew, though she kept her potential hidden from Adam. If he were to ever find out, it would be the end of her.

After months of perfecting it, Y/n was able to cast a shroud of invisibility upon herself. Though, the time it would last was limited to only twenty minutes.

Her plan was simple. Cast the spell, sneak out to the furthest reach of Heaven, and go through the portal that loomed above Hell. There, she would find her way back to Lucifer. Free, at last.

She would do it that very night. She flew as fast as she could throughout the heavenly city, those below her oblivious to her presence. Y/n made it just outside of the city before the spell wore off completely.

From there, she would have to keep flying, and hoping that no one would notice she was missing. Finally, finally she made it to the portal. Her heart pounding in her chest as she stepped towards it. Y/n gave one last look back at the distance city, deep within herself, she was fearful.

She knew Adam would eventually find out and come looking for her. But it was a risk she was more than prepared to take.

Y/n turned back to the portal, took a breath, and went through.

The view from Hell this high up was all so new to Y/n, just the sight of it made her feel uneasy. As if the suffering from the demons below reached all the way to her. She would not ponder it much longer, she needed to find Lucifer.

She took off as fast as she could, at the start, she was clueless as to where to begin. Until she saw it. A large castle that loomed ominously in the distance.

Lucifer, throughout all his time alone, was desperate to find anything that would distract him. That would keep his mind occupied, to forget about the place he once called home, and fill the void that she left behind. But nothing ever helped.

Even in the brief moments of solace he had, his mind would always conjure up the memories of Y/n.

Lucifer had done everything in his power to find a way back, if only to reach Y/n. But there was nothing he could do, he was trapped, doomed to spend eternity in this horrid place.

The suffering, and the sinful acts of the humans he once sought to liberate, did very little to help his fragile mentality. He was certain he'd go mad here, loose himself to the wickedness of Hell's clutches.

Perhaps he already has. Many times, had the demons of Hell tried to overthrow him. And many times, had Lucifer deliver a fate worse than death upon them.

In many ways, Hell has corrupted Lucifer. His dreams crushed, his hope destroyed, his will to live...fading.

Though he was king, he would suffer all the same as the demons and sinners he reluctantly ruled over.

The only joy Lucifer had, though in brief moments, were his creations. If there was only one mercy granted upon him from Heaven after his punishment, is that he kept his angelic powers.

He could still create, though, it would mean nothing down here.

Ducks, a silly creature to most, but meant the world to him. A small collection turned into a time consuming hobby. He became somewhat dependent on them, making each one better than the last.

It was silly, but it helped.

In this moment, he felt calm though he knew it would not last.

Tap Tap

Lucifer groaned. "Another damn hellcrow." He rose from his desk and made his way to the balcony. He took hold of the curtains that covered the windowed door, and opened them, preparing to shoo away the creature.

As soon as he moved back the curtains, his eyes widened at the sight of an angel standing on the edge of the balcony. But not just any angel.

"Y/n..." Her name fell from Lucifer's mouth in a hushed tone. He swore his heart stopped beating right then, and the hellscape around him faded into a blurred nothingness. And all that he could see, was her.

Y/n met Lucifer's gaze, both falling into stunned silence, only broken by the sound of the doors being opened by Lucifer's magic. Y/n stepped into the room, but kept her distance.

Is it you? Have my prayers been answered? Is it really you standing there, or am I dreaming once more?

"Is it you? Lucifer?" Y/n spoke carefully. He looked different, and yet, nothing has changed. His sapphire eyes now a deep scarlet, she could see razor sharp teeth peaking through his agape mouth, claws at the tips of his fingers. More so, he looked so...lifeless...

You look different, your eyes look tired Your frame is lighter, your smile torn Is it really you, my love?

"It is, isn't it?" Y/n reached her hand out, but Lucifer took a step back, a look of sadness on his face. "I...It is me yes but..." He trailed off, his gaze falling away from her. "I'm not how you remember me. The Lucifer you knew, is gone."

I am not the man you fell in love with I am not the man you once adored I am not your kind and gentle husband And I am not the love you knew before

"I'm not who I was. I've changed, this place...it's ruined me. Every day I felt myself dying, and turning into...this." Lucifer motioned at himself, disgusted, ashamed. "I have done things that would make you sick. Things that I would have never thought I could ever do. But..."

Lucifer looked back to Y/n, and took a step towards her. This time, Y/n moved away, unsure of what to think at first. What he said confused her, maybe even frightened her a bit. He couldn't have changed that much, could he?

"But, no matter how I've changed, I never once stopped thinking of you. You were the only constant, the only memory that had not be tainted. So many sleepless nights were spent dreaming of the day I would see you again."

Would you fall in love with me again If you knew all I've done? The things I cannot change Would you love me all the same? I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love

Y/n furrowed her brows, the confusion was there again. What he said was so different than how he acted. He's changed and yet...

What kinds of things did you do?

It wasn't Lucifer himself that made her uneasy.

Y/n kept her distance as she spoke. "What all have you done while you were here?"

It was the fear of loosing him entirely because of this place.

Left a trail of red on every island As I traded friends like objects I could use Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands But all of that was to bring me back to you So tell me

Lucifer exhaled shakily. "It became clear that I was doomed to rule over the sinners who found there way here. The demon who spawn from the darkest of pits as well. They became bolder over time, all while I became stronger." He went on.

"If there was any chance I'd see you again, I could not allow them to kill me before that happened. So...I made sure no demon could ever challenge me again." Lucifer looked down at his hands, they were trembling. "It keeps me up at night, the way my power has changed. Angelic and demonic alike..."

"But I would do it all over again, if it meant seeing you."

Would you fall in love with me again If you knew all I've done? The things I can't undo I am not the man you knew I know that you've been waiting, waiting

Y/n said nothing as she turned away from him. "Y/n?" Lucifer murmured. "My name is Eve, Lucifer. You know that. Surely your memory hasn't been warped too."

If that's true, could you do me a favor? Just a moment of labor that would bring me some peace See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far away from here

Y/n looked over her shoulder, a cold look in her eyes. "You'd do well to call me by my true name."

How could you say this? I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat Carved it into the olive tree where we first met A symbol of our love everlasting Do you realize what you have asked me? The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots

"What?" Lucifer's face scrunched in confusion. "You want me to call you, Eve?" Y/n looked away from him again. "That's right. I don't know why you keep calling me by that other foolish name. My name is Eve, it always has been."

"What are you saying?" Lucifer asked in bewilderment. "I gave you that name. It was the name I chose after I told you about my plans for humanity. 'Y/n', it's the name you had when you became a free human. You wished to be your own person, not "Eve" who was made for someone else!"

Only my husband knew that So I guess that makes him you

Penelope

Y/n turned to face him fully, tears falling from her eyes. "Only the real Lucifer would know that, so I guess you're him!" Lucifer was taken back, he wanted to comfort her, to make those tears go away.

"Y/n..."

I will fall in love with you over and over again I don't care how, where, or when No matter how long it's been, you're mine Don't tell me you're not the same person You're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting

Penelope

Y/n took a breath to calm herself before speaking. "You haven't changed, not in the way you think you have. No matter what you've done, no matter how long it's been, no matter what, you are still the same Lucifer I fell in love with all those years ago!"

Now Lucifer felt tears gathering in his own eyes. "Y/n.." Waiting, waiting (Penelope) Waiting, waiting

Y/n approached him. "I would have waited for as long as it took. I would love no one else. No one made me feel half as important or free as you have. You were my everything then, and you are my everything now. I've been waiting for so long..." Her cries making it more difficult for her to properly express herself.

Lucifer pulled her in close and held her tight. "I know." He cradled the back of her head. "I know you have, my love. I know because, I have been waiting for you as well. You were all that consumed my every thought. Nothing else mattered to me, but you." Waiting, oh For you

Lucifer and Y/n pulled away from each other slightly, only to close the gap once more as their lips met.

How long has it been? Twenty years

They broke the kiss, only to both utter the words they've been dying to say for so long.

"I love you."

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