[emmyc0z]

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆

this blog contains nsfw content. i am not responsible for what you consume on the internet, and fics containing nsfw content will be marked as such.

requests [open]

fics i write for include but are not limited to the following :

𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴

ʙᴀʟᴅᴜʀꜱ ɢᴀᴛᴇ

ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ

01. ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴋɪɴᴅ [2023] - fem reader

02. ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴄʟᴇᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ [2023] - fem reader

03. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴄʜɪᴠᴀʟʀʏ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ [2023] - gender neutral reader

04. ꜱʜᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ [2023] - fem reader

05. ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴇᴇᴄʜʟᴇꜱꜱ [2023] - gender neutral reader

06. ᴛᴏᴏ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴏᴜꜱ ,ᴛᴏᴏ ᴋɪɴᴅ [2023] - gender neutral reader

07. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ [2023] - fem reader

08. ᴀ ɴᴏʙʟᴇ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ [2024] - fem reader

ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱʏ

ᴄʟᴏᴜᴅ ꜱᴛʀɪꜰᴇ (ff7)

01. ʟᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴛꜱ [2023] - fem reader

02. ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ [2023] - fem reader

03. ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ꜱʟᴏᴡᴘᴏᴋᴇ [2023] - fem reader

ɪɢɴɪꜱ ꜱᴄɪᴇɴᴛɪᴀ (ff15)

01. ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ʀᴇꜱᴛ ɪꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴅᴜᴇ [2023] - fem reader

ꜱᴇᴘʜɪʀᴏᴛʜ (ff7)

01. ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴜʙᴛʟᴇ part 2. part 3. [2024-25] - fem reader

02. ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ [2025] - fem reader

03. ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ [2025] - fem reader

04. ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ [2025] - fem anatomy implied

ᴠɪɴᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ (ff7 / dirge of cerberus)

01. ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ [2024] - gender neutral reader

ᴢᴀᴄᴋ ꜰᴀɪʀ (ff7 /crisis core)

01. ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴋɪᴅꜱ [2023] - fem reader

02. ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ ꜱ/ᴏ [2024] - gender neutral reader

03. ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ [2024] - gender neutral reader

04. ᴀɴxɪᴏᴜꜱ ꜱ/ᴏ [2024] - gender neutral reader

05. ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ [2024] - gender neutral reader

06. ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ [2024] - gender neutral reader

ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴅᴀᴡɴ

ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴍᴜɴʀᴏᴇ

01. ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ɪ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ [2024] - fem reader

𝘵𝘷 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴

ᴀᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ : ᴛʟᴀ

ᴢᴜᴋᴏ

01. ᴅɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴅᴜᴛʏ [2026]- fem reader

02. ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ [2026] - fem reader

ғᴀʟʟᴏᴜᴛ

ᴄᴏᴏᴘᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ / ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏᴜʟ

01. ʀᴜɪɴ ᴍʏ ʀᴇᴘᴜᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ [2024] - fem reader

sᴏ̨ᴜɪᴅ ɢᴀᴍᴇ

ɴᴀᴍ-ɢʏᴜ (player 124)

01. ᴛʜᴀɴɢʏᴜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ [2025] - namgyu x reader x thanos ↓

02. ᴀᴄɪᴅ ᴛʀɪᴘ [2025]

03. ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ [2025]

04. ᴍɪɴɢʟᴇ [2025]

05. ᴊᴜᴍᴘ ʀᴏᴘᴇ [2025] - namgyu x reader x thanos ↑

ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (player 230)

01. ᴛʜᴀɴɢʏᴜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ - thanos x reader x namgyu ↓

02. ᴀᴄɪᴅ ᴛʀɪᴘ

03. ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ

04. ᴍɪɴɢʟᴇ

05. ᴊᴜᴍᴘ ʀᴏᴘᴇ - thanos x reader x namgyu ↑

sᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ

ᴅᴇᴀɴ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ

01. ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ [2023] - fem reader

[emmyc0z]

a few hours to spare

pairing : ryland grace x fem! reader

summary : takes place long before the movie. pre-hail mary flight. ryland lives a normal life with his pretty wife who he seems to barely have time for. his procrastination gets the best of him so she has to take matters into her own hands once in a while.

cw : suggestive content.

a/n : guess who finally watched project hail mary.

divider by @cursed-carmine

it’s a tuesday. and like any other day he spends the evening hidden away in his “office” grading papers that he’s severely behind on. the reasoning being, he gets behind on one test and then he’s handing out another whilst forgetting to mark the first and suddenly he’s on the fifth test of the year and has yet to mark a single page. then they sit in piles on his desk and he has to physically lock himself away from you because he finds it figuratively impossible to keep himself away.

so he hides in his makeshift office. which is really just a plastic room divider blocking off the living room from the kitchen, and a flimsy ikea table that holds a desk lamp and an apple-shaped vase (gifted from a student a few years prior) filled with various pens and pencils.

and as he does you remain in the kitchen to clean up after supper, a painstakingly catered dinner of cheap takeout from the italian restaurant down the street. the two of you, obviously being civilized people, plate it, so there’s always dishes to clean up on takeout night. a little counterintuitive but ..

when the two of you had finished eating, he dropped the bomb on you that he’d be swamped with marking again tonight. on movie night. on at-home date night. he met your frown with a soft, guilty kiss on your cheek, stubble tickling your skin before he pulled away and disappeared behind that stupid divider.

you huff at the reminder, sending bubbles from the sink flying. you swallow your frustration when he looks over the divider, eyebrows furrowed in concern. you only smile, and pretend you stubbed your toe.

now it was your turn to disappear, into the bedroom. you rifle through laundry, moving dirty clothes from the floor to the basket in the bathroom. its so out of the way for both of you after work that every week, without fail, you strip in the bedroom, and your clothes get acquainted with the floor for a couple days until one of you works up the energy to pick them up.

the clean laundry is next, piled up on the ottoman at the end of the bed. it supposed to be on the ottoman only, there for you to fold later on, but it’s been there for a few days. the both of you just pick from the piles in the morning, choosing to laze in bed for a few minutes and having to rush most mornings in favor of getting a few minutes of quality time in.

now the pile has accumulated so much that it expands onto the beds edge. you sigh, and begin to put away the lazily folded clothes. only fixing the ones that are incapable of fitting in drawers or hanging on hangars properly.

meanwhile, in the living room, ryland chews on a the cap of his pen. his forehead is creased right in the middle of his brow line as he tries to decipher children’s writing, and even further, how they’ve found the answers they have. some of them are absurd. some aren’t even answers and just little notes saying ‘sorry’ or ‘i don’t know’ to which he sighs, feels bad for about 5 seconds before he calculates a grade that will no doubt be disappointing. he tries to find marks anywhere, practically making up .5 marks.

he knows that any stress from this situation, and the large pile of papers that await his attention, is his fault. additionally, he’s aware that this also makes you upset. not because you don’t understand the work load of a teacher can sometimes invade personal time. but because you miss your husband.

he’s also aware that the rumours of the sun dimming are accelerating your anxiety, and tries to be patient when you lose your patience with him about work. he knows your scared about running out of time, so is he. but he values his kids almost as much as you, so he feels he owes them this at least.

the laundry pile dwindles under your hands, and you feel a small sense of accomplishment. identical to the one you felt last week when you did the same task. however, this time, a particular article of clothing catches your attention.

it’s a babydoll night dress. you had bought it the previous weekend in preparation for a nice, romantic evening with your beautiful, and consistently overworked, husband. only, it never came because he was exhausted from the school week. or, at least, that was his excuse when he woke up the morning after falling asleep on your lap on the couch.

tonight though. it was a school night so you’d have to be quick, but it was only 7 pm. if you could pull him away from the barrier of white papers keeping you apart then you could have a few hours. you smile, a mischievous hum leaving your lips as you throw the fabric on the bed and strip.

his eyes don’t shift when he hears your footsteps. he assumes you’ll take your usual position on the couch, and watch the tv on a low enough volume that he only feels mildly disturbed. but you don’t. instead, your hands travel across the length of his shoulders, nails grazing skin through fabric.

ryland shivers, setting his pen down to glance at you. his tired face excites, like the sight of you has breathed a sense of life into his withered body.

“what is this?” he breathes out, eyes anywhere but your eyes as they graze over your figure. his hands, one on the back of his chair and the other palm-down on his desk, twitch restlessly.

“just a little something i picked up. you like?”

“do i ever.. but.. why’re you wearing it tonight? what’s the occasion.” he sighs, defeated because he knows he is swamped in marking. he misses you and your soft skin. and now it’s on display for him and all he can think about is how he needs to create better answer sheets.

“no occasion, it’s a night dress. i was gonna head to bed early.”

“well i mean.. it’s not even eight yet, baby.”

“i’m feeling tired.” you tease with a shrug, lingering just out of reach.

“cmon, don’t go to bed yet. i’ve still got a few papers to mark but what if you sat with me?” he curses himself. ryland what are you doing? you have piles upon piles of tests to mark and your allowing your desire to sour your efficiency. he shrugs off his responsibility and pulls you closer by the lace trim of your dress.

now, however he expected you to sit with him it wasn’t this way. you sit side ways on his lap, one arm wrapped around his neck for support as the other traces along his shirt. it’s decorated with a science pun, and on any other man it would be icky. but on ryland it makes you swoon, blatantly aroused by the nerdiness of your husband.

he tries to moves back to his papers as your hand moves from chest to face, rubbing against his stubble.

“its getting long again, should i shave?”

“leave it for now? i like it.” your voice is soft in his ear, sultry wether you mean it to be or not. he swallows, marking pages with a shaky hand now.

your finger brushes against his jaw, and he turns to face you. “baby, what’re you doing?”

“m’not doing anything.”

“you’re distracting me.”

“your the one who told me to sit here.”

“yes but- obviously i didn’t think that through. you’re supposed to think clearly for me when i’m like this.” he leans in unintentionally, magnetized by the subtle pout of your lips.

“but i miss you, ryland. you’re using at-home date night for work.” you stay, again, just out of reach from him. and it seems to snap him back to his sense as he straightens and finds his self-control again. it makes you sigh.

“i know, i know, but you know i need to get this done. report cards are coming up..” his hand rests on your thigh, abandoning the table. and you know just from the feeling of his thumb grazing skin that you’ve got him. how easy of him.

“can’t you do extra tomorrow night?” you lean in now, and his other hand finds your waist. he’s acting like there’s any debate left in his body when you know his mind is made up. he deserted his pen, he was done for the moment his hand left the desk.

“i suppose.. i could spare a few hours for you.”

“yeah?”

“mm..” he raises a hand to remove his glasses, foreseeing your incoming desperation. its a small precaution to avoid having to buy new ones every time your two are intimate. but your hand stops him, and because he’s unfortunately whipped, he stops.

“please leave m’on. you look so good like this. like.. some kind of sexy scientist.”

“well, honey, i am a scientist-” you connect your lips before he ruins your fun, and his hands falling back in places signals he’s agreed to leave the glasses on. ryland’s stubble rubs your skin and burns in a way that has you squirming in his lap.

and he’s realizing, as he explores under the dress that maybe a few hours wouldn’t be enough..

[emmyc0z]

hi! can you write a story where wife reader and zuko have an argument over him being too risky going on dangerous adventures with the gaang when he has a wife and newborn at home and they go to bed mad at each other maybe even the fire lord sleeps in a guest room and it causes rooms to circulate around the palace and it’s him dealing with her silent treatment for a week and apologizes? like man is wrecked without his wife and baby and barely does his duties bc he misses them so much

silent treatment

summary : zuko frequently leaves to adventure with the gaang, but when you have your first child your concern for his safety grows and so does your feelings of neglect. another letter from aang leads to a fight, and a long week of silence for zuko.

pairing : zuko x fem! reader

cw : sfw! arguing, fluff.

divider by @cursed-carmine

zuko’s spot in the gaang had been secured long ago. he knew that, you knew that, everyone with eyes to see knew that. they were like his family, being of more importance than his nation, but never you. almost.

and yet, despite being the fire lord, responsible for an entire nation, he still felt the need to leave on wild adventures with aang and his friends to agni knows where.

this was fine and well when he first became the fire lord, when you were both young, when it was just the two of you.

however, the moment you fell pregnant you began to see the many issues surrounding his crusades. while he was gone you would walk through the castle, dreading any letter that arrived in fear it would be news he would not return.

any messenger who arrived from afar was turned away, in case they brought with them the announcement of his death.

you were beginning to picture the worst every time he stepped foot out of the borders of the fire nation.

it’s not like this fear was completely unwarranted either as he often returned injured or otherwise, unable to attend court for days.

then the baby came. you expected him to slow down with his adventures, make them every few years instead of every few months. but when a letter came, addressed to ‘flameo hotman’ himself, he was rearing to go.

you took it upon yourself to remind him that you JUST popped out his baby, to which he failed to see the issue. thankfully what he lacked in brains he made up for with his care, being there for much of your recovery. so you acquiesced, allowing him to go with a kiss and a long string of prayers for his safety.

one more. one last big crusade, then he can stay home to help you. that was his promise. he never went back on his promises. at least that’s what you thought.

and then another letter arrived, and he saw the fire nation through you like he never hoped to, red, hot, fiery anger blazing in every piece of you as you chastise him in the confines of your bedchambers. despite your anger, you know better than to disrespect him in the public eye of his court, especially as his ‘lowly’ wife.

“you’ve been back for 3 months at the least, do you have no desire to be with your wife and child?” the letter crumples under your tight grip, and zuko’s displeased wince has you squeezing it harder.

“what? of course i do, how could you even say that?” his eyes are full of concern and hurt.

“how could i say that? here, allow me to enlighten you. three months ago you promised me, you swore, zuko, that this would be the last one for a “long” while.” you feel immense relief that your baby is with your ladies in waiting, unwilling to allow her to ever see this side of you. even if she’s unlikely to remember it.

“and i thought that would be the case! i want to stay with you, i do!”

“so turn him down! you have every capability to reject his invitation. or is this your subtle way of saying that you would rather be free from your responsibilities? from us?”

“my love, c’mon you know that’s not what this is.”

“you’ve done nothing to show me that's the truth.” you toss the letter towards his feet, daring him to reach for it. he is smarter than you give him credit for, you’ll admit, as he steps over the crinkled paper.

“where is this coming from?” he reaches out for your dress, and you swiftly swat his hand away, in no mood to entertain his puppy eyes and delicate hands. in no way ready to accept an indirect apology through gentle touches and soft whispers, as he cares for you like a porcelain vase. you remind yourself that this discussion is for the wellbeing of you and your daughter and you will not be swayed by mediocrity, you want acknowledgement and reflection.

“do you have any idea what i went through during my whole pregnancy while you were gone on your little adventures? do you? i couldn’t be sure if you would back unharmed, let alone alive. i had to worry about not only the health of our baby, but also my husband who would rather risk his life for his friends that live in safety with his family.”

your eyes burn with tears you didn’t notice brewing. you’re not sad, you’re brimming with a rage that has been building for months and months.

he is silent and unmoving. the only indication of his attention is the furrow of his brow and the way his chews on his lip in frustration. even if he wanted to speak, you don’t allow him the opportunity.

“let me ask you this, lord zuko, is your fun worth more than your life? worth more than coming home to your wife, or your daughter having a father?”

“you know it’s not! you two are worth more than the entire world to me.”

“then you know how you will answer aang’s letter.”

“my love..”

“i’d like to be alone now. in fact, i’d like to be alone until you know for certain where your priorities lie.” you approach, gaze pointed as you brush past him, leaving him alone in your shared chambers.

that is the last words you speak before, what he will always remember as, the long week of silence. the first time a fight has left the room with you and carried itself alongside you like a protective shield, preventing him from getting in close. you won’t even let him near the baby, which may be a tad unfair, but you’re angry and not thinking straight.

you continue to perform your duties as the fire lady, diligent as you are, but you’re mean about it. he’s not ‘zuko’ anymore, not your love, he is lord zuko. fire lord zuko. you’ve shrunk him to not so much as a colleague in your mind.

it’s the only way you continue in your position as the fire lady, playing the role of dutiful wife for his court then leaving right after the dismissal of said court with a curt bow.

the tension between you two is felt throughout the castle by all. the court notices the subtle distance between you but doesn't verbalize this observation.

you sleep in the nursery with your daughter. your back is stiff, and your neck is crimped, from sleeping on the tiny futon within. you are kept awake all night long by the light of decorative fire ornaments, night lights for your baby. you don’t rest well.

neither does zuko.

he lays in the empty space of your previously shared bed, staring at the ceiling. his mind races with how to win your favor back. how to speak to you. he misses you. misses his daughter. he reminisces on your touch like it’s been years of your absence, when really it’s only been a few days.

he’s already rejected aang’s invitation and you know that, so why have you not returned to him?

when the end of the week approaches he begins to feel ill. distracted. and of course, you notice, but you are stubborn and strong willed.

you miss him too, but the hurt from feeling second to his ‘freedom’, an idea concocted completely on your own, overwhelms you too much to give in just cause he appears to be losing sleep. you want him to feel your absence a little longer, the way you felt his for nights on end. at least, you reason, he knows you and your daughter are alive and well.

the grand chamberlain drones on and on in the confines of zuko’s royal office, to which he casts a spiritless gaze. his thoughts are not on the affairs of his court, rather they are anywhere but.

he only thinks of you, of your baby. have the two of you eaten? what are you doing now? are you in the gardens? in the capital? in your bedroom.. alone.. without him..? should he go to you?

have you forgiven him?

“my wife...”

“what?”

“hm? oh.. um, what i said was, my life. as in.. i would give my life for this court, of course, chamberlain.”

“i believe you spoke of the honorable fire lady, lord zuko.” he stares at zuko with a silent contempt, then relinquishes his harsh gaze upon fully taking in the shell of the fire lord in front of him.

“i suppose.. my mind may have drifted.” zuko sighs, head falling back against his chair’s backrest. a pause, a moment of understanding and quiet contemplation between them, before the chamberlain speaks again.

“forgive my asking, lord zuko, but have you done something to upset the honorable lady?”

“why? did she speak to you? what did she say?” he straightens, like an arrow, gaze pinned to the chamberlain whose head shakes in dismissal.

“i assure you, lord zuko, that is not the case. in fact, it is quite the opposite, as the honorable lady speaks to none but your own child.” zuko frowns, another wave of guilt flooding his already weak stomach.

“she has not spoken to anyone?”

“not in the last week. perhaps she has taken a vow of silence to honour the beginnings of your child’s life?” it’s more than a stretch to suggest this, considering your daughter has been in the world for over three months now, but the chamberlain suggests it despite this. zuko releases a weak huff of laughter.

“yes.. i suppose, it may be that. thank you, advisor, that shall be all..” zuko waves him off with a gentle flick of his hand, the opposite palm sliding down his weary face. finally, he decides, this silence has gone on long enough.

he leaves his office with a start, tripping over his feet as they try to match his fervor. he searches high and low for you, every nook and cranny where you could be hiding from him. until it dawns on him, you’d barely left the nursery since you took shelter there.

he approaches the nursery quietly, cautiously. his palm, slick with a thin layer of nervous sweat, reaches for the door knob and hesitantly pushes it open.

you sit on the rocking chair in the corner, baby in hand, cooing at your daughter until the door creaks and makes his presence known. your eyes meet his for less than a second before they are stubbornly focused on your daughters chubby cheeks.

one glance at you is enough to have him feeling better, not whole, but no longer ill with worry. he walks to you, steps slow, like he doesn’t rule the nation but rather like that of a hesitant child. he points to the foot stool, unused, muttering a small ‘may i?’

“you’re the fire lord, you don’t need my permission to do anything. you’ve made that fairly clear..”

“i’m asking you if i may join you..” you nod, but still your eyes avoid his. he sits.

“are you well?” you nod once more. “and the baby?”

“she is fine as well.”

“good.. that is good,” he clasps his hands together, contemplative as he searches for his next words, “i rejected aang’s invitation.”

“so i’ve heard.”

“but you didn’t come back..”

“i wasn’t ready to.”

“and now?”

“you tell me.”

he sighs, slipping off the stool to kneel in front of you.

“please, don’t dirty yourself on my behalf, lord zuko”

“enough.” his tone is not unkind, but firm. your brow raises and his nods in apology, you listen despite this, eyes finally on him.

“i understand what you're doing.. and why. and i’m sorry,” he reaches for your hand and you can tell he expects to be swatting away again, a visual that makes your heart hurt, “i’m sorry for everything.”

you hold your daughter, who is drifting in between sleep and wakefulness, close to your body. zuko’s thumb rubs across the back of your hand, searching for forgiveness before he continues.

“i will never know how you felt back then, when i was gone, but i know now the power of absence. you have been gone from our bed mere days and i cannot sleep, i cannot eat, i can think of nothing but you. and i know that my safety is questionable on aang’s crusades. so.. i understand why you do not want me to go as often, if at all. i do enjoy a break from being the fire lord but i.. i never want you to think that i value my freedom more than you. i did not know the meaning of the word until you, until .. her.” his eyes drift towards your daughter, soft and longing.

“i know..” you admit quietly, freeing your hand from his grip to cup his cheek.

your thumb swipes across his scar, his eyes close like a dog being pet. your eyes sting with the threat of tears, but the closeness of him after days of distance overwhelms that part of you, a strange happiness patching any sadness lingering within. you tuck his hair behind his ear, his handsome face on display.

“you do?”

“of course i do, i married you for a reason, i know you value this family.. i was just hurt.”

“i know, baby, i’m sorry.. i’m gonna do anything and everything to make up for that.”

“this is enough for now.. i missed you.”

“yeah?” he smiles weakly, like he’s unsure if that's allowed. when you smile back, it grows more sure. he falls forward, arms wrapping around your waist and face resting against your stomach, “i missed you. so much. both of you.”

“i.. don’t mind if you go with aang every once and a while, but we need you here. safe.” your hand rests on his head, which he raises to look at you once more.

“i know. i’m gonna be better. i’ll be around so much you’ll both get sick of me.”

he stands, offering his hand for you to do the same, which you do. you calmly offer him your daughter, his face lights up. his back straightens, like weight upon weight are being rolled over his shoulders one by one. he takes your daughter in his arms, kissing your temple.

“our chambers have been so quiet without you, you’ll come back right?” you nod. “right now?” you smile at his eagerness, hand resting on his arm.

“sure, lord zuko, let’s go, i am dying for a nap on an actual bed. you’ll watch her right?” he leads you out of the room, and down the hall, baby in his arms as he wears the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. It’s infectious, bleeding onto you and making your lips curl upwards.

“yeah, i’ll watch her,” he looks at you with a sincerity you’ve never seen, “we’ll be right where you left us when you wake up, promise i’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

[emmyc0z]

distanced by duty

summary : the two of you never seem to get a moment alone, at least not during the day, and he’s so stressed. what kind of wife would you be if you didn’t offer him some ways to relax?

pairing : zuko x fem! reader

cw : nsfw, mdni. smut, zuko receiving.

authors note : i obviously, like many others, have seen the leaks. i did not, however, watch the movie. so i apologize if this is ooc zuko, i’m going off my original understanding of his personality from the show and aging that up, as well as the few clips i have seen.

divider by @honeyluvsw

as the fire lord, zuko is a busy man. from council meetings to nation affairs, the man is impossible to track down. and to any person this would be frustrating, but to you, his darling wife, his fire lady, it was immensely so.

you barely laid eyes upon your husband unless you made the trip from your duties in the city to attend meetings in the palace. you were a lady of the people sooner than you would ever be a lady of the court, still considered an outsider by his court members even after years of marriage to their lord. so you rarely, if ever, made that journey during the day.

even if you did venture to zuko’s courtroom, say on the beginnings of a lazy day, you only got to glance at him from afar before the man would be whisked away to some other task within the castle and you the same. it was like sentencing yourself to extra castle labour, so you avoided it.

it weighs on you, but it weighs on him more. everyone’s eyes on him, everyone’s hands on him, gripping and pulling, literally and figuratively. every palace advisor, every elder court member, every lady of his court.

everyone but his woman, whom he wishes to hold and kiss more than anything in the world. whom he hasn’t touched since the busy spell began. who he has to watch in agony, through the cracks between his circle of followers, as she prances around the castle, just out of his reach.

nightfall is your favourite time of day, the absence of light and noise. no advisors, no citizens, no prying eyes or pestering voices. the moments when zuko finally gets to rest and you finally reunite in your shared chambers. just zuko and you in the candle-lit comfort of each other.

tonight is like most, you return to your chambers and ready yourself for bed, for the return of your husband who will finally grace you with his presence after letting all his greedy attendees witness him all day. palms itching in anticipation to touch him.

but tonight is different, tonight feels tense before zuko even enters the room, like it follows the lords dragging feet through the halls. when he does arrive, he barely glances up, his head hanging low, his feet shuffling across the grand carpets.

he walks past where you sit at your vanity, not noticing you. not out of lack of care, rather he genuinely does not notice your presence, too absorbed in exhaustion. if he didn’t know where exactly he was, you wouldn’t be surprise. he rubs his face, lets out a deep sigh, and walks out onto the balcony where he stands at the railing.

a little stress is common. it’s normal for him to be distracted after a long day of running around, handling court affairs. what’s not normal is the quick way he brushes off your hands when they slip around his waist, the way he steps away, defensive.

until he notices it’s you.

you stare at him, unsure whether you should try again or leave him be. your arms hang by your sides, cautiously eyeing him. a sigh falls from his body, long and tired. he runs his large palms down his face again before stepping towards you, catching you by the waist with one hand and tucking your hair aside with the other, “i’m sorry, i didn’t realize it was you.”

“you have many other women wrapping their arms around you in this room?” it’s a joke, but it's tinged with a serious curiosity, expectant of a careful answer. your hands brace on his shoulders, then slide behind to wrap your arms around his neck.

“you know there is no other for me but you, beautiful, don’t ask questions you know the answer to.” and he delivers, always the carefully thought out man that he is. calculating and calm. his thumb rubs your hip through the thing fabric of your slip.

“is something troubling you, dear?” you inquire, and his face tenses.

“nothing for you to worry about. i am the fire lord, no?”

“mm that may be so, but you are my husband still despite that.” you play with the hair at his nape, head tilted to follow his tired, avoidant eyes.

he stares down at you, chewing on his lip in hesitation. under your wandering fingers, his shoulders feel tense. “you’re husband, sure, but it’s my job to worry, not yours,” the hand thats not on your waist anxiously moves across your person, “how was your day in the capital? i got news of a new vendor, did you try it?”

“zuko.”

“my court advisors tell me renovations are in order in some of the far wings. what are your thoughts? perhaps we should visit and see together what’s necessary..” he holds your face, observing you like an injured child while he rambles.

“zuko..”

“and what of the court ladies? have they been treating you kindly? i know how they-”

“zuko!” he pauses, shrinking guiltily. he pauses his fussing, hands falling from your body to lean against the balcony railing with his forearms once more.

“i’m sorry.. i know you’re only asking because you’re worried, but truly i am fine. besides, what honour is there in a husband whining to his wife. i am the fire lord for agni’s sake. what am i doing?”

you sigh, stepping beside him. your hands, unable to stop themselves even in the presence of his low spirits, wander to his body. one palm rests on his muscular shoulder, the other on his equally large bicep. your cheek presses to his arm, staring out into the night with him.

“i think you’re doing your best. i think.. you should let me worry for you. and i definitely think you need to stop hiding behind your ‘honour’. there is always honour is being open and vulnerable with me, just as i am with you. or do you think i am weak for consulting you with my problems?”

“never.”

“well then..” you nudge him, searching for his gaze again. he turns his head to you, and in his eyes you see that vulnerability he’d like to hide, that part of him that requires your aid despite his brush offs. “marriage is a-”

“a partnership. yes, i know. you say that all the time. i just wish i could be stronger for you.”

“zuko, you are the strongest, most honourable man the fire nation has ever produced.” you sigh, pulling him from the railing to lead him back into the warmth of your bedroom. you sit him on the bed's edge, leaning down to kiss him.

he sighs against your lips, only this time it’s out of relaxation, relief.

“you know, i visited the massage parlour in the city this week. shall i show you what i’ve learned?” you wriggle your fingers at him, and he manages a tried smile.

“i’d love that.” he shrugs the bulk of his robes off, leaving him bare from the waist up. the candles on the walls cast sinful shadows across his chest, highlighting the evidence of his years of physical training. all to prove himself as the fire lord.

you usher him to lay on his stomach, cheek pressed against his forearms as you settle onto your knees on the bed beside him. your fingers vibrate with anticipation, finally making physical contact with your husband after weeks of nothing but small kisses at bedtime and the occasional sensual brush of skin.

your words to zuko were not entirely a lie, you had visited the massage parlour. however, the trip was not for research purposes as you framed it, and you spent the bulk of it atop a comfortable table while four separate women worked the knots from your body.

but! you knew the basics of a massage, and you foggily remembered all the points of pleasure from your own, so you were sure you could at least release the tense squareness in his shoulders. you hoped you could chip away enough stress with your fingers that he may be able to sleep through a whole night without waking in a sweat about unaddressed court affairs.

you begin at his shoulders, anxiously hard and unfairly sturdy. fingers glide across his tanned skin, a small hum leaving him when you decide to add more pressure in your hands.

the pads of your fingers work the knots from his shoulders, gliding down his spine and grazing his waist. palms pressing hard into his skin, eliciting a small groan of pleasure from him.

you notice, as you work, that his hips shift. subtle and barely noticeable but they do. and another idea arises in your mind.

“my love, perhaps, a massage of a different kind would suit you better?” you lean down, voice soft in his ear and palms pressed to his back. he shivers, looking up with a curious gaze.

he’s upright now, back pressed against the head board while your hand works at his length. your fingers move up and down, watching his reactions closely, while your other palm rubs against his tip.

his chest heaves, groaning, his large hand gripping your shoulder with a tight grip. his hips squirm, his face clenches, and his abdomen tightens. you’ve been at this for a while now, letting him reach his peak just to pull away and have it crash down in a pile of his whines.

you can tell he’s close again by how his fingers flex on your shoulder, hips lifting and searching for his release against your hands. from his lips come the most beautiful sounds he’s ever made.

he pulses against your palms, gripping your shoulder hard now.

“baby- oh baby, please. my beautiful, beautiful wife, you’ll let me cum right? hm? haven’t i- haven’t i relaxed enough?”

“do you feel relaxed enough?”

“so- so relaxed! ah- you did- you’re doing amazing honey, please lemme cum-“

“hmm i don’t know, you still seem pretty tense..” you rub pointedly against his tip with your palm, leaning in to brush your nose against his cheek.

“yes! yes- i’m so relaxed! please!”

“okay.. okay, my love, go ahead..”

white liquid spills through your fingers and over his thighs, decorating his abs and undoubtedly dripping onto your satin sheets. his hand pulls your sleep dress taut in his grip.

his breath shakes, abdomen tightening and untightening as he whines through his release.

“you feeling good? relaxed?”

he huffs in response, slumped against the headboard. “you’ll do this more often right? hm? if- if i’m stressed out..?”

“every night if i need to”

“good, yeah- yeah that’s good..” he laughs weakly, kissing you.

[emmyc0z]

hi! ik im a few months too late but would u possibly consider adding another installment to "not so subtle" and "impressive woman"? i love ur writing and i'd devour ANYTHING u make!!! tysm in advance hehe <3

teeheeee it’s here guys

[emmyc0z]

just for me

pairing : sephiroth x fem! reader

cw : smut, semi public, drinking, reader is tipsy but not intoxicated.

a/n : hi guys…. i finally wrote part 3 of this sephiroth series (mini series idk). thanks for all the requests for part three, and all the love on the first two parts. i hope i did y’all justice. felt right to get this out during kinktober too.

part 1 - not so subtle

part 2 - impressive woman

divider by @cursed-carmine

An invitation sits in your mailbox. A company party. Celebrating some sort of anniversary. It’s not like the idea of a get together of your predominately male coworkers appeals to you but the promise of alcohol does. And you would feel so bad if you left Zack to be there on his own, following Angeal like a lost puppy because the boy, as charismatic as he is, doesn’t really have anyone else. Maybe you’re just telling yourself because you don’t have anyone else.

And even though the idea of a company party has you feeling overwhelmingly sick, you can’t wait to see the tall man who you have been meticulously centering your life around for the last two months. You train together. You eat together. You spend so much time together that many people have started to assume that you’re together romantically. Yet, the situation between you two hasn’t progressed beyond your hands brushing when he passes you a towel after training.

You’re beginning to think he’s no longer interested in you. You’ve trained yourself not to stare because it feels so pathetic that his gaze is never on you. He’s caught you so many times, and you’ve caught him staring at his sword with more affection than he ever casts your way.

When you arrive in the evening, the Shinra company lobby is buzzing with sound. A consistent chatter fills the large space, the quiet hum and bump of over priced and underutilized speakers hanging underneath the voices of hundreds of SOLDIERs and company workers.

You’re dressed in your best dress, if not your only dress, and even though everyone is dressed similarly you feel out of place. It’s been months, maybe years, since you’ve worn something so nice, used to the roughened fabric of SOLDIER garb.

You gravitate to the bar, and try not to think about Sephiroth, where is he? Who cares? If he even likes you he should come find you, why’re you always the one who’s searching for him? You order yourself a drink and look for the only other man in your life, the best brotherly figure a woman could ask for, Zack Fair.

“Long time no see,” He speaks with teasing spite, acknowledging the time you’ve spent with Sephiroth and not with him, “I didn’t know you could clean up so nicely.” He rises from his seat, standing a few inches taller than you, a goofy smile on his face and a drink in his hand.

“I could say the same thing about you, Fair.”

“Where’s the silver fox?”

“He’s not old enough for you to call him that. And I would keep impulsive nicknames to yourself if you find yourself in conversation with him.” You brush his question off with scolding, plopping pathetically into the nearest chair and sipping your drink. A heavy sigh pushes from your chest, and if your words weren’t enough to alert Zack of your annoyance, that certainly was. He takes the seat beside you, clocking in for his shift as your best friend.

“Did something happen?”

“No,” You grumble out and trace the rim of your glass with a manicured finger, “That’s exactly the problem.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“To be honest, I’ve been avoiding him since the beginning of this week.”

“Why would you do that? I thought things were really good?”

“So did I,” You sit a little straighter, voice louder, “But, I’m not even sure he still likes me. I can’t bring myself to talk to him because I’m scared I’ll say something stupid and ruin whatever shred of attraction he feels for me. If even a shred.” You speak fast, looking at Zack with furrowed brows, pulse quickening as you verbalize your feelings for the first time. Albeit to the wrong person.

He doesn’t respond. He stares at you like you have five heads. And it makes you nervous so you keep talking.

“I mean, the man kisses me in a hallway, he basically implies that we should have sex sometime and now he won’t even look at me. Things are so platonic that I feel like I'm with Angeal whenever we spend time together, I genuinely think I’m getting more interaction from Angeal in the cafeteria lunch line than I do from Sephiroth when we’re with each other almost every day. I feel like he’s just letting me stick around because he thinks I'm too weak to take the rejection.”

“You are.”

“Hey.”

“Well..”

“I definitely am. But, he doesn’t need to know that.”

Zack laughs, and some of the tension in your chest settles, “Listen, you’re blowing this completely out of proportion. This is just a case of crazy, stress induced anxiety that you seriously have to start working on.”

“Please, how would you know if it’s just anxiety? He practically hides me away whenever we’re together.”

“Are you perhaps blind? Or predisposed to see things completely wrong or something?”

“What?”

“He does not hide you. The man parades you around Shinra like a prize chocobo.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“Hello? What? I’ve never seen him walk around the Shinra building as much as he has been, and he is always with you. Like he takes you with him everywhere he goes. I’m pretty sure he would pick you up and put you in his pocket if he could. Or paste a big sign on your back that says ‘property of Sephiroth’.”

“Zack, please, we’re basically just friends, if that. Sometimes friends kiss and then never talk about it and that is completely okay.”

“Okay for who?”

“For me. For him.”

“Is it? Because you’re clearly upset about it and he clearly likes you.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “The way he looks at you is disgusting and the only person who can’t see it is you! He’s not even hiding whatever emotion he’s harbouring for you and you still can’t see it. Hey, by the way, please don’t ever tell me about implicated sex between one of my mentors and my best friend ever again. I felt a real shiver go through me, like I am not kidding my entire stomach turned when you said that.”

“Grow up, Zack.”

“You first.”

You stick your tongue out.

“Listen, you need to talk to him. Tonight, tomorrow, next week, it doesn’t matter but you have to tell people how you feel or they’ll never know. You can’t just rant to me and assume that will fix things, even though I do love to listen to the insane ways your brain turns nothing into something. Now, I’m pretty sure the man in question isn’t even here tonight. Angeal told me he might be off on a job, so let’s forget about him and enjoy this bad office party! ‘Kay?”

“.. ‘kay.”

“That’s the spirit. Let’s get you another drink.”

And he does. And another. And another. Until you no longer have that nauseous feeling in your stomach at the thought of Sephiroth, if even the thought at all. The two of you use the under-appreciated dance floor and he forces you to have fun you didn’t expect to have here.

But with the two of you being apart in age, even if it’s a minuscule amount, you find the dancing catches up to you much faster then him and you have to excuse yourself. The lobby is too hot, the mixture of alcohol and food in your stomach is sloshing from all the movement, and you have to step away from all the action just to breathe. You retreat to an empty hallway, the sound still audible but muffled.

“I thought I saw you dancing out there. Too much excitement for you?” His voice is calm and cuts through the silence of your hallway, and the nauseous feeling comes back much stronger than before. You turn your face to Sephiroth, hands resting on your stomach, anxiously rubbing at the fabric there.

“Something like that,” you smile weakly, “I thought you were on a mission tonight?”

“Keeping tabs?” He steps closer, a grin small but evident on his lips, and he seems to notice you’re not amused so he changes his answer, “I was.” He looks unfairly handsome, not in his usual SOLDIER garb but in a suit, jacket hung open casually, the first buttons undone. You fight the urge to blurt out how nice he looks, which proves an incredibly hard feat with all the alcohol in your system making you feel loose-lipped, and instead focus on being subtle, being ‘chill’. Being a friend instead of a crazy person with a crush. “But I finished up quickly so I could make an appearance.”

“How generous of you to grace Shinra with your presence for one night.”

“I wouldn’t call it generosity, it was purely out of my own self interest that I decided to come.”

“Didn’t take you for a drinker.”

“I’m not.” Another step closer to you, his grin still placid and calm.

“What interested you then?”

“You.”

You don’t mean to scoff directly in his face, but the sound comes before you can catch it. His stupidly sexy smirk falters and for a moment it feels exhilarating to catch this man off guard, to assert yourself as above him. But it also fills you with unmistakable dread. Weren’t you just complaining that you were worried about ruining the shred of attraction he has for you? So you scoff.. in his face when he expresses desire to see you?

“You didn’t want to see me?”

“No!”

“No, you didn’t..?”

“No! No, as in I did, not that I didn’t..”

“I see. Then something else bothers you? You don’t have to pretend like it’s not true, if only for right now. Tell me why you sound distrustful?”

“Do you like me? Or- I mean, do you feel attracted to me.. romantically?” You wobble on your heels, looking down proving to be a dizzying mistake. But he quickly fixes that for you. He steps close, close enough that you can smell the subtle undertone of his cologne and the scent of smoke that always seems to follow him. He tilts your chin up with familiarity and ease, rubbing his thumb over your lip before retracting his hand.

“Silly girl, do I not make my affections clear to you?” He tilts his head expectantly, like he wants a verbal answer but continues on when you do not offer one. “Hm? Do I need to shout my feelings for all to hear so you will understand? I was not aware that I needed to be so bold to prevent you from feeling neglected. Is that what you feel? That I’ve neglected your feelings?”

You’re too tipsy for this, his voice is so smooth and your body feels like butter dripping to the floor. You place your hand on your arm to steady yourself and his large ones move to your waist to aid in your balance.

You nod and he mimics your movements, lifting one warm palm to cup your cheek, forcing you to watch as he copies the humiliatingly slow movement of your head, “It seems I have.. Then, allow me to correct my error and prove my affections to you once and for all, so that you may never have to doubt them again. Hm?”

Once again he mimics your dazed nod, and leads you gently by the waist to the nearest door. Inside is a training room, you’ve never used this particular one and it appears to be a place for Professor Hojo’s records rather than one to track personal growth in strength. But you doubt you’ll be using it for training, maybe physical activity, but not the monitored kind.

Sephiroth ushers you back, crowding you against the panel console, buttons and switches digging into your back. But his nose brushes against your neck and you have a hard time focusing on them, instead hyperfixated on the way his smirked lips brush against the warm skin of your neck and the way his breath only serves to heat you further. He nips at your flesh, planting a kiss against your visible collarbone, then rises to meet your face. His hair cascades against his chest, tickling against the neckline of your dress. “You smell good.. Really good..”

You gasp against his lips as he takes yours, messy and uncoordinated. You have to force your half-lidded eyes to focus to really make sure you're kissing the same Sephiroth who was meticulous in every detail of his life. His tongue swipes against your lip, wanting in, and you let him. He thanks you with a hum, invading your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours in a way that has you thankful for your uncomfortable seat on the panel console. He forces your head up, controls your movement with a strong hand on your jaw, while the other slides up the side of your thigh, fabric bunching up.

He pulls away and your head reels, a whine ringing from your throat, and he looks at you with that same stupid smirk that has heat pooling between your legs. “Your dress is pretty too, did you wear it for me?” He pushes his hand up higher, long thumb swiping at lacy fabric, “What about these? These for me too? S’okay, you don’t have to answer, pretty.”

He doesn’t even allow you a moment to respond, dominating your mind with a simple quirk of his lips, capturing yours against his once more as his hand delves between the depths of your thighs. His fingers work against you, teasingly slow then too fast for you to comprehend. He pushes against your entrance, fingers slowly pushing in and leaving you gasping against his lips, a gasp he swallows with pride.

He doesn’t have to ask if it’s good. He doesn’t have to ask how it feels. He knows, you give it away with your whines, with your lips against his kiss-swollen lips, with the way your hips desperately drag against his rough palm for friction against your clit. And just when you’re about to reach your peak, faster than any man, woman, or piece of plastic has delivered you there, he pulls his hand away. You gasp, frustrated and whiney, “Wha- why did you-.”

But he drops to his knees before you finish your sentence, silencing your whiney protests as his teeth sink into the pillowy flesh of your thigh, swiping his tongue over to soothe the indent of his canines. He kisses his way up your leg, head disappearing beneath the silky fabric of your dress and your head falls back as his tongue drags across your skin. This is where he takes his time, slow and sensual, knowing exactly where to use his tongue to have you seeing stars. One palm rests on his head, fingers buried in his silver locks, while the other slips and slides against the surface of the console, unintentionally pushing buttons and moving sliders you shouldn’t be.

He pushes the wriggly muscle inside your walls, thumb pushing against your clit to keep you reeling. He’s never wanted to be anywhere more than where he is right now, buried between the soft walls of your thighs, face slick with your juices as you ride out your high on his long, rigid nose. He keeps you upright through it all, knee rested over his shoulder while his other grips your hip to keep you upright through the tremors and shakes of your orgasm.

Sephiroth rises again, only once he knows your legs are steady, not that you’ll be on them much longer anyways. He catches your lips again, smearing your own slick against your face, and he has you moaning into his mouth. You need to catch your breath before you completely lose yourself, and you push him just enough to separate your lips.

Finally, it’s your turn to look at him, pulling away just enough to ogle his features, sweaty palm on his cheek. For the first time ever, you are seeing a truly disheveled Sephiroth. His hair is messy, unkempt beyond repair, flyaways stuck to his porcelain forehead. His pupils are blown wide, dilated like he’s on a high he won’t be coming down from for hours. Lips swollen and red, covered in a glossy shine. Even his suit has become messy, tie loosened, the first few buttons undone. The only reason you don’t feel his shaky hands is because they grip your hips so hard they’ll be leaving red indents, but not bruises. Never bruises. “You’re beautiful, like an angel..”

“Mm.. You flatter me, but it’s you who is the angel, my angel.” He disguises his war

He hikes your leg up to his hip, pushing your back against the panel, desperately clashing his lips to yours. His behaviour is strange, new, crazed, and you love it. You love this newfound desperation, his devotion unspoken but shown through his depravity and uncouthness.

You help him unzip his slacks, dazedly pulling him out. Your palm slides along his length and his head drops into the side of your neck, letting out shaky breaths. Like he’s trying not to moan. But when he does, it’s small, desperate and he muffles it by kissing your skin. Brushing your hand away, he nudges against your thighs. He doesn’t care to be touched right now, he wants to feel you, to show you his true devotion.

“You okay?” He checks in. And you nod vigorously, hips pushing forward to find him, but he stops you with a firm hand on your thigh. “Tell me to stop, and I will, at any point.” You nod again, slower, bringing his hand from your hip to your lips to kiss his knuckles. A slow, reassuring kiss and a gaze full of adoration.

He slips in with a groan, your own lips parted in a gasp. He’s big, long and reaching every nerve inside you. He doesn’t move, not until you give him the go ahead, then he’s pushing in and out in gentle waves. Slow and languid. Sensual. Devoted.

He’s making it clear that every inch of your, inside and out, he wants, he needs. His hips snap against yours, gasping against your neck, and you whine against his ear. Your hands claw at his suit, and you realize that you will most likely not be making a return to the party because you both look a mess. Not that you want to part from this moment.

Sephiroth’s pace picks up, silenced and reduced to a grunting mad man within your squishy walls, heavenly and soft, unlike anything he’s ever had before. And he plans to keep this feeling, he wants nothing different ever again. No one could ever compare to you. He’s lost in you. His depraved, panting against your neck, fueled by your mewls and moans, the way your nails scratch his skin through the fabric of his suit.

He snakes his hand between your legs as he thrusts, toying with you. Pushing you closer to release. He’s usually so calm, composed, but he’s coming undone between your legs and he knows he won’t last much longer. “You gonna come, hm? For me, baby, c’mon..”

And the circles from his thumb on your clit, and the way he reaches that spongy spot that has your back arched, has you pulling him in close, tight and unrelenting. Pulsing around him, whining against his shoulder, legs shaking against his hips. He finds himself unable to hold out any longer, the moment he feels your release he’s spilling into you with a pathetic groan that only has you wrapping around him tighter.

He slowly lets your legs down, kissing his way from your bust up to your lips. “You okay?” You can only nod, smiling in a daze, twirling his hair around your shaky finger.

He lets you find yourself again, to come down, safe in his arms. He breathes you in, helping you back to your feet once he knows you're ready. On your feet, you feel the liquid slide down your legs, yours or his, you're not sure, but it has your face red. Especially when he suggests returning to the party.

“Together. For everyone to see, I’ll parade you around how you want. But you have to keep it inside, something secret, just for me, hm?

[emmyc0z]

Need need need!! Sephiroth to take care of a menstruating reader (and yes I’m currently bleeding out as I type this 😫)

Ty~ 💕

sephiroth x reader on their period!

pairing : sephiroth x reader on their period

cw : reader is on their period, has female anatomy.

divider by @cursed-carmine

he’s surprisingly understanding.

honestly he’s a little scared of you.

he doesn’t like to make you upset so an entire week, sometimes less sometimes more, of you being easily irritable and upset is his worst nightmare.

he isn’t really sure how to handle it.

he avoids topics that make you angry.

he dotes.

he cooks, he cleans, he leaves tiny reassuring notes of his love because he knows this week will be hard.

he realizes, every week, halfway through, that you’re not always telling him what you need.

you get too hot in bed. you grumble. you groan. you roll around and then he finally gets it and moves away.

but then you get moody because you want to be close to him, so he’s forced to sleep in an uncomfortable position so that you won’t be too hot but he can still touch you.

when your too cold it’s much easier, you just crawl closer and he immediately indulges. he’s barely held you all week.

when you complain about cramps, he helps in the ways he knows help.

runs a hot bath. adds those pretty petals. lights a candle. he doesn’t know what he’s doing and yet it’s working.

he makes you a nice meal.

he gets busy between your legs, despite your protests of it being gross. “he’s a man. “he sees worse every day” “he’s not afraid of blood.”

he’s pretty silent but he’ll whisper reassurances. quietly, likes he’s worried someone will hear him being vulnerable, weak for his woman.

and then he keeps you warm on the couch.

he’ll even use some vacation days to stay with you so that he can make your life easier.

lord knows he’s worked enough for nothing before having you, he’s earned them. he’ll take them.

[emmyc0z]

Hi, if you’re still open to writing fics I would love one about Sephiroth comforting a reader who is insecure about their body being a little squishy, and having cellulite.

Or his opinion on how the reader views their body in general.

Thank you!

sephiroth x insecure! reader

pairing : sephiroth x insecure! reader

cw : reader is referred to as woman, and beautiful. reader is dealing with self image issues. talk about bathing suits.

divider by @cursed-carmine

the man isn’t observant.

like. he is. but he uses all his power of observation at work, when he’s fighting, when he’s training. it’s like all his perception is gone when he gets home.

he’s the type to notice when you’ve done your hair, or tidied. but not so much when you’re feeling down about yourself.

because he’s so convinced that you see him the exact way that he sees you. so he doesn’t even consider the idea that you could feel differently.

i mean. he adores you. and he’s literally the person he trusts most in the world. he’s the person YOU trust most in this world.

so why would you think any different?

but he does begin to notice when you seem to sink into yourself.

you wear baggier clothes. which could just be a style change.

you don’t stand as confidently. maybe your back hurts from training? how should he know?

you’ve been standing in front of the mirror more. especially in the morning. checking you’re outfits? why can’t you just ask him?

to be honest.. he doesn’t really think much of it. just thinks you’re being weird. he has bigger things to worry about than his woman standing in front of the mirror in the morning.

but you skip breakfast one day, an accident, you were in a rush to leave the house. and suddenly it becomes the most important thing he has to worry about.

the ONLY thing he has to worry about.

so he puts every mission on hold.

tells angeal to stick his complaints where the sun don’t shine because this is more important.

and he confronts you.

and you deny. obviously. that they’re is nothing going on, breakfast was an ‘accident’. the mirror? “oh, just a morning hype up.” the baggier clothes? you “like to be comfy at work.”you’re standing weird? “what exactly does that mean, hm?”

but you can’t meet his eyes, and his stance isn’t making it any easier. he’s looking down at you like he’s disciplining a child. and you hate it.

and he can tell by your furrowed brows and ironically petulant expression that this tactic isn’t working so he takes a seat.

he swallows his irritation, takes your hand into his much larger one and uses a slightly calmer approach.

“what’s the matter, my love? i’m not dense, it’s clear something is bothering you. perhaps i’m not the most attentive partner but i do notice when you’re not you.”

so you explain. about how you’ve always had underlying insecurities. nothing you would bother him with, since usually you feel pretty secure in your own skin.

but you were thinking about taking him to costa del sol on his days off and it spiralled into hours of scrolling through clothing sites to look at bikinis.

which then spiralled into a downward tunnel of thoughts like “oh god i could never wear that.” “how do people even fit in that?” “who’s wearing this? a doll?” and then a trip to the mirror.

you had tried on that bikini, the one from your last trip there, you explain. but you must’ve put on a few pounds because it didn’t fit the same as it did then.

the cut on the bottoms shows off your cellulite to much. the strings accentuate all the wrong features. the top is tight in the worst way.

and you got to thinking about all these beautiful women you always see there and you couldn’t help wanting to cancel the trip altogether. thinking maybe you’d get there and he’d realize he could have better and-

at this point you’re rambling about the bathing suit, the trip, your body. and he cuts you off with a squeeze of your fingers. but he doesn’t say anything.

he looks angry. genuinely annoyed. and you can’t help but feel guilty. and you start to backtrack but he cuts you off again.

“i’m sorry.”

“what?”

“i owe you an apology for not realizing the signs weeks ago. my love.. you’re being silly.”

that doesn’t really help. even if his apology lifts you, his following comment does not and of course, now that you have his full attention, he noticed everything.

“perhaps silly is not the right word. i think your body is beautiful. your body was beautiful on the last trip. your body will be just as beautiful on this one. do you think the cause of a shrunken bikini may have something to do with the years of washing, the wear and tear you have given it?”

“or that maybe, you have been fed with love over the years of our relationship? oh. yes. that reminds me, don’t skip breakfast again. i don’t care how late you are, it’s important for you to eat.”

you nod, amazed that he finds a moment to lecture you even now.

“on another note. don’t insult me by implying i could have eyes for any woman but you. i would lay my life down, and i risk it every day of my life, to keep you by my side so to concern yourself with the likes of common costa del sol occupants is absurd. my angel, you are my entire world, all the mako on this planet pales in comparison to you.”

and you sit in silence, trying not to tear up because that’ll just be another problem for him to solve. but you appreciate him, his words, his attentiveness, his closeness. him.

you squeeze his hand back, nodding. rubbing your thumb along the veiny surface of the back of his hand. eyes filled with appreciation as he returns to his stoicism.

“now, for the future, there is many solutions to this problem. one, the first one you should’ve thought of, is to come to me. i’m always here, even when im not.”

“second, we can find another suit. we can even buy one in costa del sol. i’ve earned a few pay raises since our last trip, we’ll get you an expensive one. something that will make you feel as beautiful as i believe you are.”

“third, i’ve taken a few days of leave. and i know what you’re thinking and you can have your turn to lecture me later. but right now, it sounds like i’ve failed my duty to make you feel loved properly. have i been neglecting you, hm? let me show you how beautiful you really are, come.”

and with his calloused hand over yours, he whisks you away to the bedroom for a weekend of “reminders” of how he really sees you.

[emmyc0z]

Hiiii- so if the requests are still open and if you still are active. Can you write the jump rope game? Like Thanos x Reader x Namgyu. Except The reader’s ankle is well broke like Jun Hee’s, but like Jun Hee is safe because Myungi actually carried her so instead The Reader dies?😭

hii!! thanks for your request, read it here!

[emmyc0z]

Can you do Reader x Nam-Gyu x Thanos, during Jump rope but the reader dies?

sorry it took so long, here’s a little something!

[emmyc0z]

jumprope !

pairing : thanos ! x reader x namgyu !

cw : reader has a broken ankle. reader, namgyu, and thanos do not make it through the games. drug use. death.

an : hi guys.. please don’t be mad at me for being slow with requests !! i’m trying to work myself up to get through some of them soon.

divider by @cursed-carmine

you’ve been with them since the beginning of the games. they’ve clung to you. you’ve grown close. and it’s no surprise to anyone when they’re by your side for the hide and seek game.

helping you hide if you’re on the blue team.

helping you kill if you’re on the red team.

and they swore they would protect you. keep you safe. get you through the game. get out with you, find a place, get real jobs, but most importantly get you out alive.

but they’re high. too high to have all their focus on you even if they wanted to.

and they have the great plan to kill off other players on the blue team so that the prize pool increases, and so that the other players on the red team have a lower chance of making it through.

they’ve already got their kills. but they want more. and they’re distracted.

they have enemies like any other player here. you know that but you choose to stick with them anyways. and you really are cursing yourself for this when they’re backs turn for even a millisecond and now you have another man on your tail.

and thanos and namgyu DO protect you, like they swore they would. but only after they realize your missing.

only after you’ve ran the entirety of the games halls.

only after you’ve been slashed at and chased, tumbled down a flight of blood slicked stairs.

only after you’re cornered at the bottom of a staircase with a broken ankle, as a man towers over you and approaches with his weapon drawn.

the two men thankfully have divine intuition under the influence and they find you at the perfect moment. tackling the man, and killing him in the most gruesome way they can muster.

in their heads they might think they’re doing it for your sake, to show how sorry they are, how much they’re willing to do for you. but you have to look away before the man’s face is entirely disfigured, now focused on the stinging pain in your ankle.

and a broken ankle is one thing. something you might’ve been able to live with if the next game didn’t require jumping to live. if the word ‘jump’ wasn’t literally in the name of the game.

upon entering the game, the three of you are thrown into silence.

the two of them stand close together, observing in silence. calculating. like they’re telepathically speaking to eachother through their haze of withdrawal.

you are silent for a different reason. you know this is the end of the line for yourself, and you .. accept it.

you wish in that moment you could say that it doesn’t take the mere sight of the jumprope to make you give up but it does. it takes one look and the sting in your ankle to create the self realization that you can’t make it through this game.

you’re forced to watch as another player carries over his woman, and a baby, a newborn baby in this horrible place for godsakes, and know deep down that they will make it through. you’re looking at the winners and they don’t even know it, but you do it.

but the sight does have you contemplating being carried. thanos and namgyu are strong enough. there’s two of them, more muscle than just one man.

but then you have to get serious when you remember, namgyu is going through some serious withdrawals after losing their pills, and thanos isn’t far behind.

a single pill for both men is the determining factor of your death. and whatever cruel god is out there has no mercy left for the likes of you. and you know it.

so you limp out behind another player before your two guard dogs can realize. and everything feels like slow motion.

as you smile back at them.

as your legs leave the ground, rope catching your ankles.

their horrified screams of protest as you fall from the platform.

it only speeds up when you approach the ground, closing your eyes before you face the end.

and suddenly the withdrawal hits them harder.

suddenly the idea of desperately running after a pill case has appeal to namgyu who, not wanting to face the idea of your death, meets a similar fate as you. finding his place on the ground beside you, a brutal picture of the consequences of your debts.

suddenly thanos doesn’t see the importance of continuing the games. doesn’t have the drug induced strength to keep going.

thanos who sits at the finalists dinner table in a suit, presented with all he could eat and yet he can’t even stomach to look at it. all he can think about is his allies. his friends. who are gone.

all he can feel is the loneliness and emptiness that remains in the wake of your presence. and he even misses the face of namgyu, who’s name he’ll never mispronounce again.

thanos, a lonely man who can’t sleep that night. who is constantly reminding of the sight of your bodies on the ground when he closes his eyes. when he doesn’t. he can’t get it out of his head.

thanes, who no longer sees the value of all the money he might win.

who does nothing to fight the men who push him off the platform of the last game. who feels almost grateful that they let him escape the guilt, remorse and horrible memories he would live with otherwise.

who soars through the sky and feels .. a freedom he’s never felt, and it has him feeling sick. disgusting. selfish. weak. happy. free.

who feels no fear as he meets the ground.

[emmyc0z]

Sephiroth X Stressed!Reader

pairing : sephiroth x stressed!reader

cw : none!

a/n : i have ZERO motivation but i’ve gotten a few requests for more sephiroth fics. please accept this as a peace offering until i write something real!

divider by @cursed-carmine

you’ve been short with him. frustrated by tight deadlines and a constant lack of satisfaction in your work. and you’ve been taking it out on him.

probably not the best choice on your part considering, while appearing placid, calm and imperturbable to the untrained eye, he does not possess an easygoing personality.

despite this fact about him, he humours you and allows you to snap at him again and again.

“sephiroth, stop lurking behind me. god, i can’t work with you breathing down my neck!”

“can’t you read somewhere else? the flipping of your pages is driving me insane, i can’t focus like this!”

“no! for the fourth time, sephiroth, i am not hungry! stop asking me! leave me alone so i can get this done.”

and of course, he’s feeding off your energy. frustration growing the longer you brush him off. jaw tensing, teeth clenching tight to keep his tongue from slipping and saying something that will only make things worse.

he can’t help that, as much as it curdles his stomach to think, he cares about you. more than any living thing on this planet.

and to see you hunched over your little computer screen, eye getting so heavy that they droop, hair messy and unkempt, fingers tapping anxiously against the surface of the wooden living room coffee table when they aren’t viciously typing away against the laptops plastic keys, its pains him.

you won’t eat. so he can’t bring himself to enjoy a meal. forcing himself to cook for two every night, even though he knows you won’t eat, and inevitably packing both portions into plastic containers after sitting at the table for over an hour, picking at his food.

you won’t go to sleep. so he tosses and turns in your shared bed at night, a bed that once felt too small to fit the two of you without squishing together now feeling like a lonely, open valley of space, knowing that if he comes out to get you it’ll only start an argument. which is the last thing you need, he knows.

you won’t put down the computer. so he tries to invade you’re space in the living room, just to be close to you, he doesn’t even want to talk. but the slightest shift in his breathing makes you angry. which is why he doesn’t stay for long.

and then, one night when he returns from work, you finally let him in again.

he enters the living room to find you're computer in pieces beside the table, while you gasp for breath behind your hands, body racked with sobs.

sephiroth would drop everything, rushing to your side, on his knees beside your defeated body. gentle hands on your arms pulling your palms away from your face.

he has fought thousands of creatures, ugly and terrifying, and still nothing has made him feel the fear that he feels upon seeing you’re teary face. the disappointment in himself that he did not, could not, prevent this.

a pit forms in his stomach and a compulsion to care, a need to show he’s there, that he has been there the entire time, fills every fiber of his being.

his warm hands would cup your face, the rough pads of his thumbs wiping the wet streams of tears off your cheeks. softly saying you’re name.

he is unsure if he’s any good at comforting. he’s never had to do it before. he’s not used to this. but he’s trying and for that you appreciate him more than he knows.

“what’s wrong, my love? hm? i was only gone for a few hours, what happened?”

“this stupid deadline! my boss thinks i’m some sort of robot or something.. i- i couldn’t handle it. i just got so frustrated and.. and i threw the computer. which i see now.. only makes things worse. god, i’m so stupid” you can only bury your face back in your hands, more sobs leaving your tired body.

“don’t say that. you’re not stupid, don’t talk about yourself that way” he gently pries your hands from your face.

he’s not a big talker. he’s not good with his emotions. so he makes you feel better in his own, quieter way.

he’d clean up the computer. even though you insist he doesn’t, he still would. and he’d even offer to buy a new computer for you, what else would he do with he soldier salary.

he would sit on the couch with you, holding you in his strong arms until you’ve finally settled. offering quiet words of reassurance, reminders that’s he still there even if he’s not very talkative.

when you try to rectify the way you had spoken to him earlier in the week, explain your shortness, your irritability, he would shake his head and tell you he’s already forgotten. he knows “his girl was just stressed.”

and he won’t leave your side again. he’s known distance between you for less than a week and he never wants it again. so he stays planted by your side the next time you decide to work, planting gentle kisses to your hand which he keeps firmly held in his despite your protests about how you need both to type.

he’s not the touchiest, certainly not the feeliest, but he tries for you.

[emmyc0z]

heyy, love your writing sm 😙 can i request smth where in mingle, the number called is three but thanos and nam-gyu somehow get separated from reader and have someone else in the room with them and they’re slightly panicking bc they don’t know if reader is safe or not?

mingle !

pairing : thanos! x reader x namgyu!

cw : blood, drug use, talk of players dying

a/n : i probably write them so ooc but who cares. everyone lives through mingle, including gyeongsu and there’s no bad blood between minsu and semi after the game !

the two of them are obviously high, they’re fucking around dancing around you to the childish music. they’re attention isn’t fully on you for the very FIRST time since you joined their group. and you don’t know how the two of them are so uncaring about the amount of people that have died.

you’re on high alert, if a number like two is called you only have so much time to find someone else because you know namgyu and thanos will grab each other. (even if they feel bad about it later, but they are guys in the end and it’s a bros before hoes world)

if it’s four, five or even six you have semi, minsu, and gyeongsu. as long as your group stays together then everything will be fine. your hands shake despite the reassuring thought.

when the number three is called, relief floods your body and you know that you’re life is secure in the hands of the two men who swore to stay by your side whether you wanted them to or not.

but when you turn your head, they’re already running. their hands wrapped around the wrists of someone else.

and all you can do is stand there, staring at the sight, dread filling your body. frantically looking around, but feet stuck in place.

you think you’re life is already over but your wrist is suddenly pulled, feet moving on their own as you follow behind your saviour. when you reach the room you realize you’re with semi and minsu.

instantly you’re hugging them, thanking them, sobbing into the fabric of their jumpsuits because you genuinely thought your life was over.

and maybe the thought of the two men leaving you behind has you a little more than upset.

but it’s just like you thought, you’re group stayed together and everything worked out well. as long as thanos, namgyu and gyeongsu made it into a room themselves.

in a room a few doors down, the two men are beginning to experience a similar sense of dread realizing that the person they thought was you is actually gyeongsu. and of course they’re glad he’s alive, but where were you?

they’re at each others throats in an instant. the loud countdown outside of the room making them both nauseous as they point fingers and throw blame at eachother.

thanos rushes towards the peephole, frantically looking out as he calls your name. his emotions are so heightened, and he wants everything to feel like a big joke like it normally does, but his pulse is racing. he can’t see you anywhere.

and namgyu is shouting, pushing thanos away from the door in a frenzy as he looks out the same way. beads of sweat rolling down his temple as his eyes flick side to side.

you must have made it in a room right? you’re no where to be seen. but there is so many people desperately running around in search of an open room how can they be sure.

namgyu would chew on his already short nails as they return from the game. eyes scanning around.

thanos is twitching uncomfortably, rolling his shoulders to try and maintain his nonchalantness but his hands are shaking.

and as soon as you walk through that door, nervously chatting with semi, the two men are on you.

thanos is pulling you into an aggressive hug, moving back just far enough that he can still rest his hands on your arms, shaking you around.

namgyu would come up behind you, grabbing at your shoulders and squeezing them. to anyone else it might look like he’s trying to comfort you but you actually think it’s meantfor him, his fingers pressed into you through the fabric of your jumpsuit.

you just stare at them. hurt, confused, still processing how many people just died in front of you and how you were almost one of them.

namgyu would rest his chin on your shoulder, arms taking thanos spot on your arms from behind you as thanos steps back to explain what happened. and he’s so animated, head bouncing around hands flying.

“bro! i totally thought we were holding you, like you were right behind us i swear! and then we get to the room and we actually had gyeongsu! man, i was so pissed that we grabbed that idiot instead of you! no offence gyeongsu”

and from the side, right by your ear namgyu’s rattling out a similar excuse. hands rubbing up and down your arms now as he looks at thanos to confirm his story.

they must be coming down from a high because the two of them genuinely look and sound so guilty (in their own way) and scared (again, to the best of their ability while high) that it has YOU feeling guilty that you weren’t paying more attention.

so you’re accepting their apology, hugging them both and saying it’s okay because all three of you are alive, reassuring them that you’re all gonna get out of here with a shit ton of cash!

they’re both popping another pill when the mood has simmered, both denying and shaking off the fact that they we’re worried when semi pokes fun at the two of them.

we all know namgyu doesn’t like her to begin with, so she’s just fuelling the fire. he’s not acting on it yet though because you’re sitting beside him, alive, and he can’t think about anything else.

thanos is feeling a similar way. even if he was an easily perturbed man, which he isn’t usually (let’s not talking about how he interacts with player 333), he wouldn’t be paying any attention to semi. he’s engrossed in the sight that is you, hair stuck to your sweat dampened skin and face covered in splatters of blood.

[emmyc0z]

Hii! I love your Thanos x reader x namgyu stories!! They’re so good and I love your writing! I was wondering if I could request more of that? Maybe a little smut if you’re comfortable writing it!

(Sorry if that doesn’t make sense, English isn’t my first language ❤️)

thanos ! x reader x namgyu !

pairing : thanos! x reader x namgyu!

cw : drug use and sexual activities!

a/n : erm i am NOT a good smut writer but i hope the small amount is enough. i love these two. also i don’t know if anyone has noticed but i cannot make them mean for the life of me. like i love a soft man. oops

you’d all live in a single apartment because it’s cheaper. you were practically all living together anyways (they crashed in your living room more than their own places) so you would decide making one rent payment split three ways made more sense than three separate payments.

the chores would probably fall on you. cooking, cleaning, laundry. it’s easier if they’re out of your way anyways.

i think namgyu would help out by buying groceries or taking over the laundry every couple of weeks.

i like to picture him with glasses, and leaving them everywhere but his face. like he’s constantly misplacing them. and he swears you must be psychic or something because anytime he starts squinting to see, you pull his glasses out of thin air.

he also definitely is incapable of admitting he needs them. and will actively refuse to find them because he “looks stupid with them on”.

thanos is the type of guy that wouldn’t do anything around the house except leave his cigarettes ashes on the living room table.

or throw his shoes on top of the already large pile of sneakers by the door instead of tidying them up.

or add his dirty dishes into an already full sink.

and then he’d say he contributes to house work because he bought take out once last week or because he brought home shit for you guys to smoke.

but he’s also the type that can clean the whole house in a couple of hours, under the condition that’s he’s high. like i imagine him popping one of those pills from his cross and getting the energy to do everything you’d plan to do when you get home.

and if you said anything about it he’d just shrug. like it’s not the most impressive thing he’s done since he moved in.

secretly he’d be on top of the world because of your praise and gratitude. and he can’t help but smile at the satisfied smile that appears on your tired face when you sit beside him on the couch with no responsibility for the night.

they both are the type to conspire around the thermostat. and they’ve somehow convinced you that you don’t know how to use it so you trust them when they say it’s set at a normal temperature.

like in the winter time, they’ll turn it down so low that they have to bundle up under multiple blankets on the couch just so you’ll keep them close.

picture this, you’ve gone to bed and they turn it down at least half an hour after. and you return to the living room, half dressed cause “that’s the only way you can sleep”, and you beg them to come sit in your bed to keep you warm.

and thanos would be the type of guy to get you there and claim that they have a faster way than just ‘sitting in bed’ to keep you warm.

that’s how you’d end up with thanos chest pressed to your back and his cold hands up your shirt, cupping your breast as he nips and kisses at your neck leaving purple marks in his path that are sure to show the next day.

meanwhile namgyu is laying on his stomach with your legs perched up on his shoulders, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh, as he head gets busy between your legs.

and you better believe your inner thighs are covered in bruises. he’s incapable of holding back his bites and kisses with your legs spread wide in front of him.

i cannot see namgyu being anything BUT handsy. like even if you guys were just cuddling this guys hands are on you, in you, all over you it’s crazy.

and you’d say it’s counterintuitive when thanos throws your shirt across the room, and namgyu has pocketed the underwear you were wearing, because how is removing your clothes keeping you warm.

but after at least of an hour of being trapped between them, all three of you are sweating and the room seems way hotter than before.

maybe the fact that they turned the thermostat back to normal before joining you in your bedroom had something to do with it. who knows?

the type of guys to talk to eachother about you like your not there but also the type to say it’s gay to make eye contact with eachother when they get you off.

they’re also jealous creatures. they can’t help it.

if the three of you are having sex and you leave a mark on one of them, like a hickey or god forbid you leave lines from your nails, the other is suddenly whining for your attention. silently begging for you to mark them up in the same way.

and they won’t leave your bed after. they stay put, hands wrapping around you from either side of the bed. namgyu’s fingers are intertwined with yours as his face presses against your neck. and thanos is sprawled out on his stomach, one arm draped over your middle as he faces you, dead asleep.

[emmyc0z]

hi! Could you possibly write about nam gyu or thanos (or both idc) x reader and they try ac!d for the first time together and reader like is so mesmerized??? Also you write so good

ac!d trip

pairing : thanos! x reader x namgyu!

cw : drugs !

a/n : disclaimer i’ve never done ac!d, obviously, so this could be completely inaccurate oops!

*divider by @toastray

you’d all be sitting on the living room floor of your shared apartment. thanos leaned against the arm chair by the side of the coffee table, while you and namgyu sit side by side against the couch.

the tv would be on playing some show that all three of you are mindlessly watching, until the clearing of thanos throat would drag the attention of both you and namgyu to him.

and thanos would pull a bag, in which is what you think is just a piece of paper covered in little squares, of his jacket pocket with a grin and wiggly eyebrows saying something like, “look what i scored last night.”

obviously you’re hesitant because it’s not like you’re a heavy drug user, and on top of that thanos explains that it would also be his and namgyu’s first time trying it. he means for it to comfort you and settle your nerves but it only heightens them because what haven’t these two done honestly.

thanos and namgyu would both place one on their own tongues with little to no resistance. but you’d be hesitant to do the same.

“here, stick your tongue out.” namgyu’s soft voice would ring out from beside you, turning your head to where he has a tab sticking to his finger. his other hand moving to hold your chin steady. and you do as he commands, tongue sticking out with still present hesitancy. and in return he places the tab against your tongue, smiling down at you.

as the next hour passes you all get increasingly silent as the high takes effect. there’s music playing now, comfortably filling the silence, and you swear you can feel every vibration down in your veins. but it doesn’t feel scary like you thought, it just tickles.

namgyu’s head is in your lap, eyes closed and you can only stare at him. at his high cheekbones, at the slight flush in his skin. at the single piece of hair that sticks to his forehead. it would bother you more than him and you’d feel the compulsion to move it, goosebumps raising on his skin as your fingers brush against his face.

he would probably hold your hand over his chest, fingers tracing over your skin and sending tingles from your finger tips all the way up to your shoulder.

thanos just feels funny. like, not necessarily high, but he knows he wants to move. but his jealously is getting the best of him so he’d probably push his way onto your legs, both men’s heads sharing the space on your thighs.

this would be the only time namgyu’s eyes would open for the next 2 hours, irritated by the intrusion before finally getting comfortable again.

you can only imagine your pupils are blown, the same way that thanos are as they stare up at you. his purple hair looks so pretty, has it always been this bright of a colour? you thought it was due for a re-dye just yesterday. you can’t remember. it feels like your brain has taken a picture and turned the saturation up to 100%

thanos fingers would tap against his chest to the soft beat of the music, head continuously moving around despite the grumbles that leave namgyu’s lips. but you can feel the way his fingers are doing the same thing on your hand now, unintentionally following the beat.

it’s actually a miracle your not going into sensory overload with the way you can feel every tap, even the ones thanos is doing on his own body, and the way that the two unconsciously never stop moving around you.

the three of you would sit there for hours, unmoving, even when the playlist begins to play from the beginning again.

and they’d offer it again the next night, desperate to chase the high. or more like, desperate for an excuse to sit close to you for hours at a time, with being high as an added bonus.

[emmyc0z]

thanos! x reader x namgyu! headcannons

pairing : thanos! x reader x namgyu!

cw : blood, drugs

a/n : just something short to appease myself. what started off as a crush on thanos is quickly evolving more towards namgyu and i can’t stop it.

They find themselves interested in you because you so easily agree to stay in the games with them. You need the money and they’re offering you protection and extra food in return for your vote. What’s there to lose?

The two of them never let you out of your sight. You’ve gotta be by at least one of their sides at all times, or else they can’t sit still. They can’t focus because what if you’re hurt, or being harassed, or what if you were attacked and they weren’t there to stop it.

Even if they’re both high as a kite, they’re so focused on your safety that you have to gently remind them that they have to look out for themselves as well.

It’s the type of situation where a sleazy comment is thrown your way and their emotions are so heightened from the drugs that the words don’t even register to you before punches are being thrown at the culprit.

This ends up with them, most likely, bruised and bloodied (001 kicked their asses like cmon) but you shower them with your praise and thank you’s so they don’t really mind.

They’d even let you clean them up. Wiping the blood, whether it’s theirs or someone else’s is a mystery, away from their skin with your pretty fingers. Wincing as your fingers brush over a particularly sensitive bruise, but it pleases you to dote so they don’t complain.

Namgyu would probably feign annoyance as you brush his hair out of his face to get a closer look at the swelling of his reddened cheekbone. But his fingers would play with the fabric of your sweatpants at the side of your legs, tugging if you moved more than an inch away.

Thanos definitely is the type to push your hands away feeling like a kid whose mom is trying to wipe his face in front of his friends, cursing under his breath as you verbalize your concern. But he makes no real effort to move your body away from its standing position between his legs. Eventually he’d stop swatting, only staring up at you with a stubborn look and wide pupils.

If a fight broke out, whether it was in the bathroom or in the sleeping area, they’d crowd you. They’re never not by your side so you don’t have to be worried about being caught off guard. And while they want to fight, they’ve silently agreed to put this urge aside in order to keep you safe.

Namgyu would be so touchy with you. I mean we seen the way he acts in the show, right?

His hands are on you 24/7. Rubbing your shoulders, fingers threading through your hair, palms tapping on your arms. And hand interlinked with yours whenever the opportunity arises.

And while Thanos may not be clingy in a physical way he still finds a way to be defined as such.

He’s never further than a foot from you. Sitting directly beside you with his knee bumping against yours as he dances to a song no one else can hear, standing behind you close enough that you feel the movement of his hands as he speaks, his shoulder touching yours and fingers brushing against your hand hanging by your hip.

At night the two of them would sleep on the empty beds on either side of you. I mean, it would start that way at least. But it’s cold and they get lonely so the night ends with the three of you pressed closely together on a single bed.

Purple hair tickles your face as a cold, skinny-fingered hand slithers its way up your shirt. And another hand, Namgyu’s free one since he already has one playing with your hair, settles on your pelvis under the waistband of your green sweatpants. They swear they do it just because their hands are cold, and no other reason..

And while you’re happy they aren’t cold anymore, you now have to deal with the sweltering heat of their bodies pressed to yours and their humid breath dampening the skin on your neck. But it’s worth it to seem them calm and quiet as they sleep peacefully.

[emmyc0z]

Looking at the Stars

pairing : zack fair x gn!reader

summary : just something short about stargazing with zack after a long day of sparring.

cw: sparring with angeal, tiny mention of blood, zack being a cutie patootie.

You lift your sword up, one palm pushed against the flat side of your blade, the other wrapped around the handle. The sound of metal clanging against metal echoes through the room as your opponent's blade collides with the sharp edge of your sword. The sharp point just catches the tip of your nose enough to break skin. A drop of blood slides down along the curve of your philtrum, rolling onto your lip where your tongue flicks out to swipe it away.

Pushing back against the opposition's blade, you watch them step back with their sword pointed directly at you. You lick away the blood again, and watch now as they stow their blade on their back.

“What’re you doing? We’re not done sparring.”

“You're bleeding, I’d say we’ve done enough for today.” You huff, allowing Angeal to walk away from you. Your chest rises fast and unsteadily as you try and catch your breath, wiping away the sweat from above your brow with the back of your hand.

You follow after him, throwing your sword on the weapon rack as you walk out of the training dome. You're tired and tense but you lighten up once you're outside because your eyes immediately land on Zack Fair. Probably your best, or more honestly your only , friend.

Angels voice pulls you back before you can make your move for Zack, turning around to face your mentor.

“You did well today. Get some rest, you deserve it. You’ll be in the field with us Class One soldiers soon enough.” You thank Angeal for his words, giving him a small nod of gratitude as he walks away. And you feel almost guilty that you’re much more excited by Zack’s approach than by the praise of your senior officer.

“Dude, you’re so awesome! The way you blocked his hit like that, you’ve gotta be crazy strong! Lemme see your arms, no seriously lemme see ‘em.” His mouth is agape as he pulls on your arm which falls limp in his hold.

You shrug him off, pulling your arm away from him with a laugh, “Get off of me, you dork.”

“Have you been working out without me? Seriously. Are you doing push-ups when you’re supposed to be asleep?” He follows behind you as you walk towards your barracks, holding your arm up in his hands once again.

“It seriously was just luck, he must be off his game today or something. He still got me, so not too impressive.” You pull your arm out of Zack’s hold to wipe the cut on your nose.

“Not impressive? He told you had what it takes to be a first class soldier! Do you know what that means? Man, I am so jealous.” He stares at you, eyes full of awe. And you desperately will yourself not to look back at him because you will crumble and let out everything you’ve ever felt for him in one breath.

Finally you reach the door to your barrack, and you try to go in without a proper goodbye to Zack which he denies with his foot shoved between the door and its frame. “Hey, meet me up on the roof later?”

You open up the door so he can comfortably move his foot away but he doesn’t in case you try and close the door again. “I don’t know, Zack. I’m pretty tired.”

“Please? It’s supposed to be so clear tonight, you’ll be able to see like every star there ever was or will ever be.” You chew on your inner lip as his eyes plead with yours. Though your resolve is usually so strong, you're unable to resist, because you're painfully in love with him.

And also because who could say no to that face, so you agree to meet him after you’ve showered. You watch him pump his fist up in the air, whisper-yelling “yes” to no one but himself as he walks away from your door.

You clean yourself free of the layer of sweat covering your body, washing the grease off of your hair. You let the hot water hit your skin, standing in the middle of the shower and unintentionally wasting time before you have to meet Zack on the roof. Even when you're not exhausted from training, climbing the stairs up to the roof is a feat and you're definitely not looking forward to doing it tonight.

But you do. Lugging yourself up metal step after metal step, wet hair stuck to the back of your neck. You didn’t bother to dry it, too antsy to meet up with Zack.

When you push the heavy door open you see him already sitting there. Arms out behind him, palms pushed against the ground to hold himself up as his long legs sit splayed out in front of him. He notices you and lifts one arm to wave at you, a jovial smile on his face.

And you have to snap yourself back to reality once you realize you’re focusing too much on the way his muscles tense as he leans his weight on one arm to wave the other. You walk towards him with a gentle smile, cheeks pink already and you haven’t even sat down yet.

“Hey! I wasn’t sure if you were actually gonna come, considering you were so “tired.” He moves over for you to sit beside him even if he doesn’t have to, and you take the empty space graciously to sit crisscross beside him.

You roll your eyes at his sarcasm, “I am tired. I just prioritize you over my own health. You should feel very special”

“Yeah no kidding. Your hair's still wet,” He says while lifting a piece of your wet hair up with two of his fingers. “You’re totally gonna get sick.”

“Worth it.” You smile softly, shuffling the tiniest bit closer to him. He subconsciously wraps his arm around you, as if it’s second nature. But his hand hesitates to fully land on your arm, it just hovers above your skin. You lift your own hand, intertwining your fingers, resting your hands on your arm.

“Yeah, it might be the only way I can beat you in a sparring match. Speaking of, did I mention that you’re awesome?”

“Yes. You did, Zack” You giggle, turning your head to face him. His face is much closer to yours than you were expecting but he doesn’t seem to mind, smiling widely.

“Well, just one more time then. You’re awesome. Like, I think you're my hero.” He laughs, and you understand that he’s being unserious.

“Hardy har.” You two smile at eachother, faces close. Until you turn away, cheeks flushed as you look at the lights below the edge of the roof. And his giggly tone quiets.

“No, but seriously. I watch you train all the time. Like I seriously look up to you. I want to be able to spar with Angeal as easily as you do.”

“He goes easy on me, you know.”

“He goes easy on me too, I can still never win.” He pulls you backwards with him as he lays on the surface of the roof, arm pressed under your neck to let you lay comfortably.

“I didn’t win either. I don’t think you can win against him.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” You don’t say anything else. You don’t think you need to, because Zack knows you feel the same way. It’s the reason why you watch him train, the same stupid look on your face that he has when he watches you.

Suddenly his voice rings out, giggly once more, “Hey, those stars kind of look like a chocobo!” You follow Zack’s hand, his finger pointed at a cluster of stars. You smile, eyes searching the sky for other images.

“Look,” you point now, at a group that makes an oddly familiar shape. “Those ones make the buster sword!”

“Woah they do! Man, I hope I get to fight with it one day, imagine how cool I’d look with it in my hands.” You elbow his side, and he turns his head to you in a fit of giggles.

“You were so right, Zack. It’s so clear tonight. I can see like every star! It’s so pretty..” You can feel his eyes on you, giddy smile on your face as you look up at the sky.

“Yeah.. it really is.”