#''she's got it all and she doesn't think she's got anything'' made me emotional

[universefcb]

can u do a hector fort x reader where he comes back from training and walks inside his house and sees his gf and his parents talking and hanging out and he stops in the doorway and just stays and watches with a smile

HOME, HECTOR FORT.

→ Summary: Arriving home, seeing his girlfriend laughing and talking to her parents.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Spanish phrases. Fluff. Romance.

→ Author's note: He's in the bandana era and he's the most beautiful thing in the world. 🫦

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The clock was almost eight o'clock when Hector slowly closed the door. Training had been tough—as always—and all he wanted was a shower, food, and you. But before he could even take the first step, he stopped.

A familiar sound came from the room: his laughter.

But she wasn't alone. Her voice was accompanied by the laughter of his parents, mixed with light conversations, full of affection. Curious, he approached, his steps silent as if he was afraid of ruining that moment without knowing why.

“He came back from training the other day completely exhausted,” you said, gesturing with your hands, your eyes shining. “His legs were hurting, he had marks all over his arm... and yet he made me tea and stayed with me because he could see I was feeling unwell. I didn’t even need to say anything.”

His mother smiled, leaning against the pillows.

“That’s Hector. Always paying attention to the details.”

“It was always like that,” his father added. “When he was twelve and missed a pass, he would stay out late on the field alone, practicing until he got it right. But at home, he was always the most affectionate one. He was always the one to take care of.”

“He’s the best boyfriend in the world,” you said with a shy laugh, looking down. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t even know how good he is. Sometimes he thinks he needs to be perfect on the field… but for me, he already is.”

Hector stopped in the doorway, his backpack still slung over one shoulder, his hair wet with sweat. His heart tightened in his chest, as if the world had slowed down for a few seconds just for him to watch.

You were there. With his parents. Laughing, talking about him. About everything he was — not as a player, but as a person. And not because he asked, not because he was there, but because it was sincere. Natural. Because you loved him, truly.

A smile slowly formed on his lips, half crooked, half emotional. He rested his head on the side of the door and just stared. The warmth in his chest took over. The kind of warmth that doesn't come from a goal, a victory, or an entire stadium cheering. It was different.

It was love.

When you finally saw him standing there, your eyes widened in surprise.

“Hermoso!” you said, standing up quickly. (Love)

He dropped his backpack on the floor, his arms ready to receive you.

“I should train more often just to see that,” he said, laughing, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and emotion. “It was the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

You hugged him tightly, and his parents smiled at each other discreetly.

“Did you hear everything?”

“Everything. And... thank you. For loving me like this.”

He pulled you closer, as if he wanted to keep that moment in his memory forever. You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the faint smell of sweat and grass—that training smell that, for some reason, on Hector, always felt good. Familiar. He hugged you like he had come back from a war and was finally home.

“I was going to take a shower first,” he said, running his hand slowly down her back. “But I think I can stay like this a little longer.”

“You deserve this every day, you know?” you whispered, looking up at him. “To be reminded of how amazing you are.”

He just shook his head with that half smile, as if he was still trying to believe that this was real. Still hugging you, he turned his face towards his parents.

“You planned this, didn’t you? You called her here to say nice things about me. Do you want to make me cry?”

His mother laughed, his father raised his hands as if to say “innocent until proven guilty.”

“We just told the truth. And so did she. You needed to hear it.”

After a light dinner and a long shower, Hector appeared in the room with damp hair and a loose blouse. You were already lying down, reading on your cell phone, but your eyes met his as soon as he entered.

“Ready to rest?” you asked.

“Ready to sleep with a full heart,” he replied, throwing his phone on the side table and throwing himself on the bed next to her. “But first, can I say something?

You put your phone down and turned to face him, snuggled into the pillow.

"Of course."

He held her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers carefully, as if he was handling something valuable.

“Sometimes I demand so much of myself... in training, in games, in everything. I think I always need to prove that I deserve to be there. But you remind me that here, with you, I don't need to prove anything. I just need to... be.”

You felt your eyes fill up a little, that kind of silent emotion that only true love brings.

“Because you are already everything, Hector. And I will always remind you of that, even on the days when you forget.”

He closed his eyes, slowly pulling you until you were lying on his chest, listening to your heart beating calmly.

“Quédate conmigo. Sólo eso. Siempre.” (Stay with me. That's all. Always)

"Siempre." (Always)

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[valevntine]

tw: grief, death/loss

hi, i'm not sure if this is going to be posted. i've written it again and again, over and over, debating whether it was too much or not. i hope it isn't. this is deeply personal and you're more than free to skip it. i'm doing this more for myself than anything else, but i also hope that if someone here is going through the same thing, they will then find comfort in my words. <3

many of you might celebrate mother's day today, like me. i've lost my mum almost 5 years ago, and ever since then this day has been a slap to the face i dread arriving. every year i try to do a little something to make myself feel better and to actually talk about her instead of bottling it all up like i always do, so here i am.

not too long i ago i came upon this podcast pedro was invited to, he talks about the loss of his own mother (30min mark). i don't know why i never stumbled upon it before, i just know that the first time i heard him, what he said felt so eerily familiar.

my mum also left during the summer. it was an incredibly crucial period for me, full of important changes. the morning after it was such a beautiful day out, we had been out of quarantine for not too long so a lot of people were in the streets. i cannot begin to explain how odd it all felt: seeing the world continue spinning, everyone's life going on while it felt like mine stopped. i think that was the lowest point i could hit, there's no experience as isolating as the loss of a parent.

afterwards, it felt like everything bloomed, and i feel selfish for saying it. i got accepted into art school, able to finally study what i preferred and to pursuit my dreams of becoming a full time artist. i met wonderful people who i'm incredibly grateful for - they made me realise i'm not as unlovable or unimportant as i thought, i am worth loving and i deserve affection too. i expressed myself without fear of judgement, i grew, i slowly built a version of me i was beginning to like. i feel so happy and accomplished now, it comes with guilt.

i often wonder what would have happened if i didn't get to experience grief at such a young age. because yes, i was 18, but i wasn't done being my mother's baby, i wasn't done being her daughter. i didn't need to grow up yet, not in that way. was it actually a lesson? or was it just cruel, and we, she, didn't deserve it? is it me believing in silly things or is she somehow still here?

but when i visit other cities and find her name written on the walls, i feel her here. she's in my morning coffee, it's the same as the one she made for herself each day. she's in the way i make my bed, she's in every cake i bake. she's in every tulip, in every butterfly. she's in my features every time i look in the mirror, because how lucky am i to be sharing her face, the most beautiful one i've ever seen and the only thing i have left of her. she's in every smile i sport when i get a picture taken, in every "you look just like her". she's in my memories, in my thoughts and dreams, because those transcend time and death. she's here because i am here and as long as i'm here she will always live through me, through all that she taught me and that i will pour out for her.

grief doesn't leave, you just learn to grow around it. it will find you randomly on sunny days, on sleepless nights, in cities across the world, in recipes from your childhood and in the shampoo aisle. grief is weird, every emotion is valid, let yourself feel it all.

and happy mother's day to all the mums on here! you're fantastic 🫶🏻

ti amo mamma, so much it hurts 🤍🌷

[bloody-bee-tea]

Emotional Spring 2025 Day 20 - Kiss me again

This story was entirely inspired by this prompt, these tags and that one reply. It was simply too good to pass up on.

Shouta has just closed his eyes when he feels someone step up to him.

"Shouta," Nemuri cheerfully says and Shouta doesn't even open his eyes.

"No."

"Aw, come on, I have something for you," Nemuri says, poking him in the cheek and Shouta fights the urge to bite her finger off.

He briefly contemplates if he'll get away with ignoring her but if she has something for him then it might be best not to. Nemuri's so called gifts have a tendency to explode in his face; either literally or figuratively and Shouta just got this new sleeping bag.

He'd really rather not ruin it right off the bet.

"What," he groans out and blinks his eyes open, mournfully bidding goodbye to his break.

Shouta was looking forward to this free period and his sleeping bag hasn’t even warmed up yet.

When he looks over at Nemuri he sees that she's hiding something shapeless behind her back and it's big enough to set off warning bells in his mind because if that explodes in the literal sense there are going to be casualties.

"I have found something absolutely amazing for your you-know-what," she faux-whispers and Shouta is very glad that he's in the horizontal because the blood is draining from his face faster than can be healthy.

"Nemuri!" he hisses out as he untangles himself from his sleeping bag and he isn't even sure what he's going to do. The shapeless thing she's still hiding from him is too big to hide anywhere in this room and should Yamada come in then—

"Tada!" she yells out and brandishes the thing at him, almost shoving it into his face and Shouta jerks back but he's too slow.

He gets a face-full of something soft and it's surprising enough that he freezes in confusion, allowing Nemuri to lower the thing and he finally gets a good look at it.

It's one of the most cursed Present Mic plushies Shouta has ever seen, the face grotesque even behind the badly made glasses, the hair a complete mess, the costume barely recognisable as that, and Shouta is instantly in love.

"Nemuri—" he starts to say, his hands already going out to take the plushie from her, because she did say she brought it for him but before he can even make contact a piercing yell rings through the room.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The windows shake with the force of it but before Shouta can even think to activate his quirk and silence Yamada, he cut himself off in favour of dashing across the room and snatching the plushie right out of Nemuri's hands, a look of absolute horror on his face.

"What the hell!" Yamada screeches and Nemuri laughs. "Where did you even find this? They discontinued that line! I made them discontinue that line!"

"And I just happen to stumble upon one," Nemuri says smugly as anything and Shouta tries to hide himself away in his capture weapon.

He doesn't want to attract Yamada's attention just as much as he so desperately does want but given the current topic of discussion, it's almost inevitable.

"What are you doing with this?" Yamada asks, his voice accusing and his eyes fixed on Shouta, who shrugs awkwardly.

"Nothing," he gets out, though he doesn't manage to hold Yamada's gaze. "Nemuri thought—"

"It's soooo funny," she chimes in, giving Shouta a brief aggrieved look before she smiles brightly at Yamada. "Admit it, it's perfect."

"It's fucking horrendous, is what it is," Yamada seethes and takes a step back, the plushie still in his hands. "I'm going to destroy it."

Instantly all the mirth is wiped off Nemuri's face. "You will do no such thing or I'll skin you alive," she threatens him and Shouta sinks further into his capture weapon when Yamada looks at him as if he's expecting help.

"'s kind of funny," Shouta offers, thinks it's a reasonable thing to say in face of the plushie still visible to them all and Nemuri laughs.

"It really is," she agrees and then swipes the plushie out of Yamada's hands. "So give it back."

"Hey!" Yamada protests and makes grabby hands at the plushie. "That's me, so I think I should get custody."

It's a ridiculous statement and it's stupid more than anything, but Shouta snorts out a laugh anyway and then immediately regrets it because Yamada turns towards him.

"And you! What the hell were you doing with this?" he then asks, pure accusation in his voice and instantly, Shouta shrinks back.

"Nothing," he mutters, and hates how hurt he feels over this.

Yamada is right to question his involvement in this because their relationship is not at a point where Shouta can openly admit to wanting Present Mic merch in his life and even though it's Shouta's own fault, it still hurts.

"Yeah, right," Yamada bitterly mutters, and then yelps when Nemuri lifts up the plushie, gazing at it.

"This," she says and then squeezes the plushie affectionately, "will stay with me."

Her voice doesn't allow for an argument and Yamada clearly knows better than to try, too, because he huffs and puffs for a moment and then simply walks away, leaving the plushie right where it's nestled in Nemuri's arms.

Nemuri and Shouta stare after him and it's only when the door falls closed that Nemuri turns towards Shouta.

"Shut it," he grumbles before she even says something but he knows better than to think she'll do as she's asked.

"When will you—"

"Never," he cuts her off and her eyes blaze with anger.

"Will you at least tell me what happened then?" she asks, just like she has for the past two years and Shouta gets up, gathering his sleeping bag in his arms.

"I've got to go," he tells her, because he will not, under any circumstances tell her what kind of coward he is.

"Don't," she sighs out and tugs on the sleeping bag. "I'll drop it, so don't. Here." Nemuri holds out the plushie like a peace offering and it is incredibly effective because Shouta immediately takes a hold of it, letting go of his sleeping bag in the process.

"You said it'll stay with you," he says, even as he curls his arms protectively around it.

"Like hell do I want this cursed thing in my apartment. But I know you do, so I'm giving it to you."

"Mic's going to kill you when he finds out."

"If. And he can try, but maybe that will give me the opportunity to beat an answer out of him as to why you two are no longer attached at the hip," she grumbles and Shouta knows that she's just concerned, that she is just as affected by how their friendship crumbled, but he wishes she would stay out of this.

"Good night," he pointedly says instead of reacting otherwise to her words and he climbs back inside his sleeping bag, the plushie still safely in his arms.

There is no way in hell that he's going to tell her that he and Yamada shared one ill-fated kiss, half drunk off their asses, and that when it seemed as if they were going to talk about it the next day Yamada employed every distractive tactic at his disposal.

Shouta might not be the most emotive or emotionally intelligent one but he can take a hint and it was more than clear that Yamada did not want to talk about the kiss.

But it turns out, Shouta is not actually strong enough to pretend that nothing happened when he's so desperately in love with Yamada and continuing to be friends when he knows that his feelings are not reciprocated hurt more than he knew what to do with, so ever since then, he's kept Yamada at an arms length.

It's the coward's way, but in his defence, Yamada went with it incredibly quickly and barely even tried to keep their friendship going so at least it's not solely on him.

Still; Shouta can't help but to collect every Present Mic merch he comes across of and this plushie is going to go so well with his existent haul.

Despite the lingering pain in his chest, he falls asleep with a small smile, his face pressed into the Present Mic plushie's face.

~*~*~

Shouta is hit with another seizure halfway up the stairs to his apartment and if it weren't for Yamada he would have tumbled down the stairs and probably broken every bone in his body.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, buddy, come on, breathe through it," Yamada coaches him and Shouta tries, he tries, but his muscles barely want to cooperate.

"Fucking quirks," he hisses out when he's finally able to do so again and Yamada huffs out an unamused laugh.

"Yeah, you tell me," he mutters as he hefts Shouta back up to his feet. "Think you can make it?"

"Gonna have to," Shouta grumbles, because he's not going to stay in the hallway forever and so they get moving again.

Thankfully he doesn't have another seizure until they are inside his apartment but it still hurts when every muscle in his body locks up and by the time this one lets out, Shouta is panting.

"How much longer?" he wants to know because he wasn't quite present for the debrief after their joined mission but he trusts that Yamada paid attention.

"Another hour at least," he grimly gives back and Shouta lets out a harsh breath.

"Fuck."

There's no doubt that he's going to survive another hour of this but it's not going to be fun and he'd literally do anything else.

"Jep," Yamada agrees and herds Shouta towards the couch. "Lay down. I'd feel better knowing you're not going to keel over and lose all your teeth," he says and Shouta rolls his eyes at him but does as he's instructed.

"You don't have to stay," he says after a moment because it's unfamiliar to have Yamada in his space like this after all this time and Shouta wasn't prepared for how it makes him feel.

"As if I'm going to leave you alone like this," Yamada shoots back and puts a blanket over Shouta before he sits down in front of the couch on the ground. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you."

Shouta wants to protest, wants to tell him that someone else can do that, that he doesn't have to stay if he doesn't want to but before he can open his mouth another seizure creeps up on him.

Yamada hums under his breath for as long as it takes and it's something Shouta can concentrate on until the waves of pain lessen.

"I want Panda," Shouta petulantly says once he's able to, craning his head around for his cat but he stops when Yamada empathetically shakes his head.

"Absolutely not. He's a cuddle bug and he'll jump straight into your arms where you'll promptly crush him when the next attack hits. You're not going to cuddle your cat."

Yamada is absolutely right, but still, Shouta pouts at him. Just because he's right, doesn't mean Shouta has to like it.

"You got a plushie or something? Something that won't die?" Yamada asks and Shouta stubbornly presses his lips together.

He does, but he's not about to tell Yamada that.

"Man, come on," Yamada huffs out after a minute of silence. "I damn well know you stole that plushie from Nemuri a few weeks back," he then mutters, unable to look at Shouta, who instantly goes red in the face and then is saved when another seizure hits.

"Shouta, where is it?" Yamada demands to know once the pain fades and Shouta presses his face into the couch pillow.

Yamada hasn't called him by his name in months, if not years, and it's doing things to Shouta he's not ready to handle, ever, but least of all now.

"Cupboard in the office," he mumbles, hopes that his words get swallowed whole but when Yamada gets up he knows his hope was futile.

Shouta forces himself to not think about what else Yamada will find in that cupboard, because at this point it's literally a Present Mic shrine but the need for something to hold on to outweighs the embarrassment.

When Yamada comes back, the horrendous plushie in his hands and a contemplating look on his face, Shouta doesn't hold back to make grabby hands at the plushie and when the next seizure hits, he tricks himself into believing that it's not even that bad anymore.

They ride it out like that for the next hour, Yamada mostly only talking or humming when Shouta's body locks up to distract him but soon enough the hour passes and when he isn't hit with another seizure for ten minutes, Shouta promptly drifts off.

He low-key expected to wake up alone again, but Yamada is still there, still leaning against the couch like he was when Shouta fell asleep and a quick glance at the clock tells him that it's been two hours.

"Why are you still here?" Shouta rasps out and cringes when it comes out rougher than he means it to.

"Shouta, I—" Yamada turns around to look at him and his face is suddenly right there, and Shouta is exhausted and his body hurts and his thoughts are sleep-sluggish and Yamada's eyes are big and green and he's still right there.

"Kiss me again," Shouta whispers, despite knowing that it's stupid, that it's only going to get him hurt more, that he's going to lose even what little he still has with Yamada and his thoughts are about to spiral into a panic when soft lips are pressed against his.

"So you do remember it still," Yamada whispers when they part and Shouta is so dumb-struck he can do nothing but blink at him.

"Never stopped thinking about it," he finally admits and Yamada huffs, working his jaw and Shouta fears he said the wrong thing but then again, it was Yamada who leaned in just now.

Shouta is confused.

"Why didn't you—you were close to a panic attack when I wanted to bring it up," Yamada rushes out and even though Shouta's thoughts still feel sluggish, that seems wrong.

"You kept distracting me until I took the hint," he gives right back, maybe more accusing than is warranted and Yamada's eyes go big.

"Because you were starting to panic!"

"Because you didn't want to talk about it!"

They blink at each other in silence for a moment and then Shouta buries his face in his hands, even though his every muscle protests the move.

"We were being stupid," he mutters behind his hands and Yamada hums in agreement.

"We were being stupid."

Shouta lowers his hands again and dares to look at Yamada.

"And now?"

"I think we might be past being stupid," Yamada—Hizashi—whispers and leans in for another kiss.

Shouta leans into it, relishes it in a way he isn't used to and his eyes are burning with what almost feels like tears.

"Nemuri can never know," he says when they part and Hizashi gives him a crooked grin.

"I won't tell her as long as we can talk about your Present Mic shrine," he says, absolute mischief in his voice and Shouta blanches.

"Nemuri can know, no problem," he rushes out, making Hizashi laugh and for a moment, Shouta marvels at the sound.

It's been so long since he heard Hizashi genuinely happy in his presence that he has to process the sight in front of him.

"You're staring," Hizashi mutters once he calmed down, a faint blush on his face and Shouta shrugs.

"I've missed you, every day," he admits with a wistful smile.

"I've missed you, too, Shou," Hizashi gives right back and even though it's so much time down the drain, it feels good to hear it.

There's more stuff to talk about, things they need to catch the other up on, but for now Shouta buries a hand in Hizashi's hair and pulls him close until he can rest their foreheads together, just basking in the knowledge that Hizashi is here and that it's mutual and that he's going to stay.

For right now, that is more than enough.

[werewolfbneimitzvah]

vent post. There are two stories i was told in my teenage years that even before i had a real concept of trans issues made me uninterested in discussing the supposed sacredness and safety of separated sex-based spaces.

First, when i was like 13 or 14 my PE teacher told us about a time she went to a women's public restroom, some guy was hanging out outside the bathrooms, she didn't think anything of it, went to the bathroom, and he walked in after her and like, creeped on her over the top of the stall. She was ok, she wasn't telling us this to scare us, just telling us what to do in situations like that (and iirc she was telling the whole co-ed class this, not just girls, bc it's useful for everyone), but this taught me immediately and forever that there's nothing actually keeping these spaces separate really, that anyone can be a creep in any space, and that establishing a space like that as for women only isn't actually particularly useful for safety.

Second, when i was 16 i was at an anime convention, a friendly acquaintance of mine and i ended up in conversation outside, and he showed me his bare wrist and told me he'd been kicked out. A female friend of his had stepped in dog poop outside, and between that and the stress of the convention she'd had a bit of an emotional breakdown, so being her friend, he started comforting her and ushered her into the women's restroom so they could wash the poop off her shoe together. And because he was a man who went into the women's bathroom, he got kicked out, no matter that he was doing something that was actually beneficial to a woman. Punishing a woman's friend for supporting her was supposed to... protect her somehow? This made it clear to me that a no-exceptions rule separating the sexes like that wasn't actually inherently good for everyone.

And this isn't even getting into me as a child needing to accompany my younger sister to the restroom when we were out with just my dad because she had certain support needs past the age he felt comfortable bringing her into the men's room with him. And what if I'd been born a boy, or she'd been the first born? Who's helping her then?

And of course even putting all this aside, we should always prioritize compassion and support anyway. But i never even needed to meet a trans person to know that "keeping men out of women's bathrooms" is silly nonsense. But trans people also need to pee anyway and as humans they have that right, so leave them the fuck alone. your precious women's restroom is just a fucking room with a door, holy shit give it a fucking rest, if someone is attacking you in the bathroom that's bad and if someone is in there to pee that's good and it doesn't fucking matter what their junk is or was when they were born.

a woman could have done the exact same thing to my PE teacher and it would have also been bad no matter how "supposed" to be in the restroom she was, and no one should ever be punished for helping a crying friend wash their shoe.

Anyway i know I'm speaking to like-minded folks here, i just think about those two stories literally every time bathroom gender shit comes up and it pisses me off.

[valentinedrifter]

Days with Somi: Expression

male reader x Jeon Somi

~13.9k words

A/N: I apologize if the plot (there's plot?) doesn't make sense because all the recent Somi pics got me dented in the head.

Thanks to @suchsweetstories for the beta read!

Enjoy.

Jeon Somi loves having sex. 

Specifically, having sex with you.

You call it her ‘love language’. Her way to shower you with affection. Which you have to admit, for someone like Somi, checks off all of the boxes.

Receiving Gifts? Being able to fuck her on the daily is a gift itself. Especially when she offers up anal.

Physical Touch? You can spank her ass and grope her tits and she’d tell you to do it again. She even encourages you to do it as much as you want.

Quality Time? She’d fuck you anywhere if she gets in the mood. Your apartment, her apartment, the fast food restaurant’s bathroom, your car in a public parking lot. The post-sex cuddles you have with her are amazing too.

Words of Affirmation? Her screams of, quote: “Fuck, yes, more–” are enough to push you to go harder. She’s also expressing her appreciation of how good you’re pounding her pussy.

Acts of Service? Either she wakes you up with a blowjob or you wake her up by eating her out. It usually ends with one–sometimes both–of you being late to work. It’s one hell of an alarm clock though.

Sex has become a pivotal portion of your life ever since you started seeing her for a couple of months now. And it’s not like you’d ever say no to doing it with Somi. You made that mistake once, and while it was…an experience, you’d rather not have to call in sick because she fucked you too hard. 

It’s the fact that sex is the only consistent way she shows her feelings for you that makes it feel a little bit superficial. 

She comes over to your apartment angry at how the latest batch of makeup she made was shipped to the wrong address? She won’t ask you for comforting hugs, she’ll tell you to push her legs over her head and dick her down till she can’t walk. 

You get frustrated over the new Return-To-Office policy your job announced because the office is an hour drive? She won’t say a word, just pull your pants down and squeeze your cock in between her tits.

You won’t lie, sex with Somi is Grade A, Top Tier, Perfection. You’ll never get tired of her body, her moans, her willingness to do anything. What you are tired of, is the absence of romance—for the lack of a better term—in your life.

Not in the physical way, no, she already gives you enough to last a lifetime. It’s that the emotional link that you feel was starting to degrade.

You want to be able to do the whole “Netflix and Chill” bit without it ending in the couch getting wet. To be embracing her as you wake up in the mornings. To spend the day doing nothing together.

And it wasn’t like she doesn’t say the words that you’ve been wanting to hear, because she does. She just says it with ‘your cock’ instead of ‘you’ a lot more than you’d like.

You’re starting to think that this is becoming more casual, something to scratch her itch, some sort of fuck buddy set up instead of as a couple. Maybe when this relationship with Somi was still at its infancy would you consider that type of deal–purely physical–because that’s what this was built on.

Thinking back, it’s how it’s always been. Even as she first approached you at the bar you two met. She ordered what you had—a shot of whiskey—and started off with small talk. You two got to know each other, and you may have had a few too many shots that made your lips a bit looser. 

That’s why when you drunkenly tell her that she was hot in that white crop top she was wearing, and that you wanted to lick the alcohol off her stomach, all she does is smirk. The next words she said sobered you straight up.

“When and where?”

And that’s how you ended up playing body shots inside her apartment. It started off innocent enough. Well, as innocent as playing the sort of game that inevitably gets you both drunk and fucked.

You two kept in touch after that night. After a week or so of trading messages and a few racy pics from her, she invited you to meet up again.

This is when the cycle began. One of you invites the other to meet up for something, you do said something, and you two end up doing each other after. Then it happens again.

Somewhere along the way feelings were aired out and you two started to see each other more seriously. At the same time, railing Somi into any nearby surface became a 9-5 job.

Yet you can’t help but want more than that.

To be honest, you might be overthinking things. Maybe you should have sat her down, talked like two responsible adults, and figured out whatever’s happening between you two—really just you—before it got out of hand.

So you do the responsible move. Ask a friend for advice. 

Although, you might have asked the wrong person.

“You’re overthinking things.” Aeri deadpans, taking a sip of her drink.

“I’m not overthinking it.” You deny. “I’m just…stressing about it.”

“That’s the same thing.” 

“Look, are you gonna help out or not?” You scowl, crossing your arms.

“Fine. But you’re presenting to the boss next week.” She sighs, dramatically placing her drink down on the table. “Here’s what you do–”

The next hour becomes a weird lecture consisting of Aeri laying out an entire thesis of plans on how to woo Somi with your heart and not with your dick. You needed to note it all down just to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

After some planning and finalizing some dates, you settled on a beach trip. It was ordinary, casual, relaxing. A chance to have fun without too many shenanigans involved. You can even take her to the nearby festival that’s going to take place for some celebration too.

Of course, the trip being with Somi makes that a pipe dream. 

Day one was mostly spent on actually getting to the venue, getting a feel for the area, and checking into the hotel. 

And everything was going great. It was all going according to plan. After you take a break from all the driving you’ve done you told yourself that you’d take her out to see the tourist spots.

Said break is how you two end up at the hotel’s restaurant, enjoying the cuisine of different nations, the aroma of delicacies, the sound of the piano fluttering across the air. You had to veto room service because no breaks and no eating would happen otherwise.

“Oh my God.” The clattering of metal hitting ceramic fills the table. “I’m so full.” Somi’s slouched over the chair, hand over her stomach as you finish up your own plate.

“You did get two plates worth of dumplings.” You shrug, stabbing your fork down on a leaf. “And the crab too.”

“But it was so good.” She’s justifying, arms out across the table. “I kinda want more.”

“And make your ass explode all over the bathroom later?”

“Fuck you.” She laughs, throwing a napkin at your face. “Like you won’t be doing that later.”

“O–kay.” You exasperate, gesturing down. “Not in front of my salad.”

“Come on.” Her chin’s resting on a hand, tilting her head as she smirks. And it’s that smirk, that fucking smirk, that always precedes your downfall to the drug that is Somi. 

Ruining her is usually an eventuality, especially given that you’re going to be alone with her for the next few days. But this time, you will not falter. You remind yourself why you’re here, what the point of this entire trip was about. That this is to show her how much you–

Oh Goddamnit.

Somi’s finger is on her tank top, stretching the fabric outwards. Her tits are practically squished together, making them a lot more bigger than they already are. Then she pulls down, and you find out that she wasn’t wearing a bra this entire time. You also find out that the only thing that was on her boobs were a pair of nipple tape covering her buds.

“You sure you don’t want to?” Her finger’s moving across her top, showing you more of that milky white skin, and she knows that you’re getting hooked. “I even brought lube.”

“Somi-” Your hand springs up, slapping her hand away and pulling her top back up in one smooth motion. “I thought we said no funny business outside the hotel.”

“We’re still in the hotel aren’t we?” Of course she’s gonna pull semantics at you. “Just a little quickie before we head out for the festival.”

The line’s set, and you’re tugging it. “You just can’t help yourself, can you.” 

She’s lifting her arms above her head, emphasizing her chest, her tight clothing rising with it to show her stomach, defined and toned from all the yoga lessons she’s been doing. You unconsciously grip the table sheets.

“I just wanna show my appreciation for my sweet, sweet boyfriend-” She’s reeling you in, hard, and you inevitably let yourself be swept away. “-who set up this entire trip and drove me all the way here so early in the morning.”

You’re thinking of happy thoughts, the logistics of the rest of the trip that you have yet to do with her, the caesar salad that you’ve been enjoying. Anything to stop yourself from appreciating the view right in front of you because this is getting out of hand.

The chair screeches. “So whenever you’re done here,” Somi’s standing up, giving you a very nice view of her cleavage as she does. “I’ll be heading back up and getting myself ready.” That smirk is still on her face when she leans in. “Maybe if you’re fast enough you can have a piece of my ass.”

Your resolve is officially gone, the idea of having Somi’s sweet, tight ass once more becoming too tempting as she walks away, waving her keycard at you like it was some sort of prize. Your eyes are glued to her waist moving from side to side.

Sinker.

—

You had to sit and wave at the waiter to pay for the food. Normally you’d go right up to the cashier to do that but a particular brunette made it hard to stand up. Once you manage to get up from your seat without your hard-on in full display to the other patrons, you immediately speed walk it to the elevator. 

You’re falling back into the same repetition of Somi causing trouble, dragging you to another round of debauchery. You already tried to set ground rules by only doing it inside the hotel, but you suppose you’ll need to re-negotiate it to just being in the hotel room.

Which, thinking on it, was where you were going. Sigh.

She’s irresistible, and she knows it. Shit, she flaunts it whenever she can around you because she knows you’ll give in eventually.

Maybe you can slip in one dose of Jeon Somi’s tight ass before you move on with your plan to take her out for a romantic date. Considering the plan’s already screwed up as it is, all cause Somi—and by extension, you—decided to have some fun. 

Though, you really should stop this. Say no. Sounded simple enough. Just one word. Lay it out flat.

But the seed’s already planted. The picture of her in your hotel room, waiting, naked, touching herself, prepping for all the dirty things you’ll be doing to her; Your inhibitions get shot to pieces.

You already know what’s going to happen when you walk through that door. She’ll be somewhere in the room—the balcony, you bet—ready for you to ravish her. And for all intents and purposes, you might as well enjoy the detour.

Soon as you open the door to your hotel room, the TV’s blaring out music and the bathroom door’s open. You take your shoes off before walking up to the doorway to be greeted with the unholy sight of Somi.

Naked, leaned into the bathroom counter where she uses the mirror to glance at you, her ass swaying as one of her hands are in between her legs and the other resting on the cold marble right next to a clear little bottle.

“Hey there.” She sighs out. “Just–finishing up.” Her eyes are fluttering shut, two fingers pumping into her puckered hole, already knuckle deep at this point. Somi knows the drill when it comes to preparing herself for anal; she has it down to a science at this point.

Her hand slides over to the bottle, pushing it towards you as a silent suggestion before she ruffles her hair, making her all the more ruinable. You’re shaking your head, but you step behind her anyway, unbuckling your belt in the process.

“Always a tease.” You’re pulling your pants down, your boxers following after to let your cock feel the cold air of the bathroom.

“Like you don’t love it.” She replies, orbs blinking open, looking at you through the mirror with fuck me eyes as she pulls her hand away from her hole. “Ready when you are.”

You’re applying an ample amount of lube onto your cock, stroking to help cover your entire shaft as you move closer, resting yourself on her ass. “You’re excited.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been horny ever since we got in the car.” 

You scoff. “You’re always horny.” 

She laughs. “Who wouldn’t when you have that cock–” Your tip’s pressing against her asshole, making her unable to reply as she feels you push into her. It’s splitting her open, her tight, slick ass taking you in slowly.

“Hurry up.” She’s taking deep, steady breaths as she presses back onto your cock, adjusting to the feeling of your cock inside her, taking even more of you as you grip her hips. As you bottom out, she lets out a groan, smiling through the pain of taking your entire dick up her ass.

“You’re getting impatient.” A hand lifts up from her hip to grab one of her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. “Thought you’d wanna take your time.”

“You still gotta take me to that festival.” She moans out as you’re pulling out slowly, letting her get used to your size before you stretch her out again. She clenches around you, impossibly tight, as you slowly begin to buck into her. “And I wanna get to–Fuck, that’s it–get to the beach too.”

She loops one of her hands around her neck as a harness, pulling herself up to give you a kiss. “So as much as I want to enjoy this–“ Another sigh slips out of her, the pleasure slowly erasing any of the pain that she’s feeling. “–You need to dick me down, fast, so we can enjoy our vacation.”

You smile, dipping down to pepper kisses around her neck. “Something we agree on, babe.” Your thrusts progressively get faster into her, enjoying the feel of her ass, the lube doing wonders for the both of you as she braces herself once more on the counter.

She’s so unbelievably snug, the feel of her abs flexing on your hand as she sucks you in so much easier now, the wet, sticky, warm hole overtaking your mind as you get to pounding her asshole.

”Fucking missed this ass, didn’t you?” She’s watching you over the reflection, your gaze laser focused on the bounce of her ass. It was hypnotizing, seeing it recoil from how hard you’re ramming your cock into her. 

“I never say no to your ass.” You grunt out, gripping her hip a bit firmer, squeezing her tit a bit harder, hammering a bit faster as you enjoy hearing her whimper your name out, her hand shooting up to hold onto yours as she shifts her body to lean into you instead.

”Then ruin my ass–“ She’s grinning, squeezing her breast over your hand. Her other hand is moving back down between her legs again, circling her clit, adding even more to the bliss she’s feeling. “–ruin it for anyone else.”

You oblige, hand crashing down on her ass before you grip her again, near the small of her back this time as you get rougher, thrusts getting more frantic as she starts to sing all these filthy words out.

“God, love you in my ass. Love it when you stretch my ass out, filling me, breaking me.” She’s on a tangent, muttering out all these porn star-y lines as if she is one, and honestly? She can probably make bank if all she had to do was take dick. “Gonna–Gonna make me your whore, aren’t you? Make me take your cock in all my tight fucking holes till I can’t fucking walk anymore–”

A sharp crack airs out, followed by a chuckle, slow, breathy, enticing. Her tongue’s out, tracing her lips. “Do it again. Slap my ass some more.”

And you do it. God do you do it. Your palm’s leaving hard slaps on her skin, leaving it with red marks that gets her even more fucked up as she watches, mouth widening at how much you’re utterly obsessed with her and her ass.

“Only think about cock nowadays don’t you, you stupid bitch.” You pinch a bud, giving her another slap on the ass. Whether she tightens up from the slap or the degrading nickname, you can only guess. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re getting mine.”

”Yes, love your cock–“ Somi’s rubbing herself faster now, fingers getting desperate as you slam harder into her hole, unrelenting. “Own this ass–” Her eyes are rolling back, her entire body starts to tremble, losing herself as she grips the counter again, letting herself be used like a doll. 

”Oh, fuck–“ She lets out this scream, raw, husky as liquid starts to drip out of her, dripping down her legs all the way to the tiles. Her head slacks downward, eyes shutting, her ass somehow gets even more vice-like than you thought it could get, making you murmur out a curse, reluctantly pulling out of her ass to stop yourself from following her.

Her fingers are persistent, working her clit when you spread her ass, looking at her gaping hole. You grip your shaft, lowering it down to her pussy, slick from her cum, dragging it up and down, the feeling of her heat making you wet your lips.

She shudders when you push inside her cunt, legs still shaking as you bury deep inside her. Her ass may have been tighter, but the feeling of her pussy being so much more slicker and the way it was radiating heat makes you groan out.

“Miss my pussy too?” She purrs, using the mirror to look at the both of you. Her hair’s a mess, brown strands sticking out all over the place, tongue playfully peeking out as that damn smirk forms on her mouth while you start fucking her.

“Just getting a taste.” You’re wrapping your arms around her, locking eyes with Somi through the glass as you lean in to whisper in her ear. “Promise to cum inside your ass.”

She grins, leaning back, mouth dropping open as you start to pick up the pace, her  body rocking forward every time you get balls deep inside of her. “You better. Want that cum filling up my ass, baby.”

You’re still focused on her face, from the way her eyes are rolling back again, from how rough you pummel into her, her mouth that’s panting out moans and begging for more of you, your cock, your cum. Her gaze never loses sight of you, watching you pound her into the marble.

Then you feel it. That all-familiar stirring in your balls, making you go feral, and she can sense it too, by how she pushes back against your hips, letting her take you for a ride.

You’re holding onto her tits, squeezing the soft flesh, rolling her nipples between your fingers, tugging at them, while Somi’s grounding herself by the counter as she’s bucking, grinding her ass against you whenever she takes you all in.

Her ass is fucking unbelievable to look at, soft, firm, bouncing with this rhythm that edges you closer to the end. The slaps of her backside hitting your pelvis is all you can hear, fueling you further to bursting. That tightness in your balls is building, the feel of her wet, hot pussy sending you to the deep end before you spill inside her.

“Gonna cum, Somi, fuck–” You lock up, going for one last push to cross the finish line as you send it, deep, filling her completely with your length.

The pressure breaks, hands sliding down to hold onto her curves, locking her in place as you cum, shooting up her pussy, the few hot spurts painting her walls. Then you remember where you’re supposed to cum, and pull out abruptly. Cum’s still leaking out as you press your tip into her asshole, flooding her pucker with your load.

“That’s it.” She stills, moaning in tune with every pulse of your cock, filling her ass, rolling her hips as you thrust, stuffing her with cock, giving her every bit of your cum. “So much hot, fucking cum all inside me.”

You slump over Somi, resting your head by her nape, completely spent and she’s glowing. As if your cum was some sort of energy drink that invigorates her, looking like she wasn’t pounded into the bathroom sink. 

“So–” She plants this sloppy kiss on your cheek, a snicker coming out of her as she rests her head on yours. “My ass still as good as you remember?”

“Always.” You sigh out, pulling out of her and drawing her into your arms. “Now shut up and let me have this moment.”

Her lips curve upwards, air scoffing out through her nose as she leans into you, running a hand through your hair, damp from your past actions. She leaves another kiss on your shoulder, soft, loving.

“This is nice,” she mutters out, nestling underneath you.

You hum in agreement, seeing yourself smiling over the reflection of the mirror.

Even if you two have done this so many times, you’d never get tired of having Somi in your arms.

—

After the bathroom incident, you both took a shower—separately, of course, you didn’t want any more unpredicted scenes happening—and walked to the nearby festival. Fucking about in the short trip to the venue was something you’d expect coming from her.

“Why is the festival so far away from the beach?” Somi’s fixing her bucket hat, using the nearby window of a cafe as a mirror. “You said that it was nearby.”

“It is.” You place a hand on the small of her back, steering her away from the window where people were definitely watching her model for free. “It’s a ten minute walk.”

“That’s ten minutes too long though-” And the countdown’s at five. You’re rushing her to the crossing, guiding her out of any more trouble. “-and my feet are starting to hurt.”

“Somi, we just got out of the hotel.” You deadpan. “And how does your feet hurt in All-Stars?” You stop at the other side, turning your head to face her.

“Because you’re walking too fast, jackass.” She pouts. It’s not something you see everyday from her. “Slow down a bit, enjoy the scenery.”

You know what she meant by ‘scenery’. It was Somi-speak for ‘Let’s find a place for a quickie’. One more way to derail this break you’ve planned for weeks. And you were not gonna fall for it a second time.

“Somi.” Your voice is stern, calling her out on her bullshit. “Seriously, not outside.”

She rolls her eyes, lips jutting out just enough for it to look adorably pissed off. “It’s just a joke–”

“No, it wasn’t.” You cut her off. “I know you. And that’s not a joke.”

Some would think you’re being too harsh on her. Normally, you’d agree. But you need to put your foot down this time. The glare on your face surprises her, like she wasn’t expecting you to push back on something that’s become the norm in your relationship.

She’s a walking trouble magnet. Anytime, anywhere. It didn’t matter if it was a risky fuck in a public bathroom or getting fingered at a park. If she wants to get off, she’ll more than likely drag you to it. She usually expects you to follow through. Do whatever type of fucking on whatever surface is nearby. 

You can tell she doesn’t like hearing it. It was foreign. Unfamiliar territory that she’s stepped on. Wasn’t like you want to say it either, because you don’t. But Somi was pushing, even with that ‘hotel only’ rule-thing in place. 

Somi knows it. She had to. It’s why she hasn’t said anything. Only stared, searching, sighing. You know you’ve won when she adjusts her bucket hat and purses her lips together.

“You’re no fun today.” She says, wrapping her arms around yours, hiding her face from your gaze, and mutters something you barely heard.

“...But I get it.”

You let air come out through your nose, and relax just a tiny bit. Enough for her to know that you’re not truly mad, and maybe a tad bit disappointed. Her arms tighten their grip. She exhales, dramatic, exaggerated, theatrical.

“I hope you know that you owe me one later.” Her smirk is creeping back onto her face, the teasing coming back in full swing. And perhaps, even a bit of understanding slipping in.

“Yeah, yeah.” You shake your head, giving her an amused little smile. “Put it on the tab.”

She giggles, leaning into your side as you continue walking. Her head turns.

“Is that coconut?” She asks, leaning just a bit more to smell your scent.

“Yeah, why?” You’re turning a corner, a small sign pointing to the festival’s venue stuck on a wall.

“Nothing.” She gets comfy in your arms, resting her head on your shoulder. “Smells nice, is all.”

This is nice too; Quiet, comfortable, enjoying each other’s company.

Until you feel it. The crowd getting thicker, the chatter and the footsteps matching the beat of the traditional drums. You felt livelier, hell, the entire place felt alive, and the smell of mouthwatering, rich, smoky, meat enters you.

Rows upon rows of food stalls are lined up; The sizzling meat, the cold boba, the multitude of grub tempting you to take part in it.

“Oh my God.” Somi lets go of your arm, slipping downward to hold your hand instead. Her stare is darting, left, right, looking between the display of delicious delights. She feels warm. “We are so eating first.”

“I thought you said you were full.”

“After what we did earlier, I need a little pick me up.” She’s dragging you to the nearby booth, the aroma of sweet, sweet meat filling your nostrils, and by God you wanted one too.

Sausages, kebabs, fishcakes. Everything looked so good you can’t choose where to start. It’s a good thing Somi does, as she takes a skewer of pork—maybe beef? You weren’t sure—and a cup of fishcakes, already pulling out change from her handbag to pay the vendor, giving her thanks while she’s at it.

She turns to you, already taking a bite of her skewer, taking the top piece off before she practically moans.

“This is sho good.” She’s shameless with the food, swiping her tongue to get the sauce off her lips, the sounds coming out of her bordering pornographic, getting her the occasional odd stare from others. “You want some?”

Shit, if the smell didn’t tempt you, the way she ate the meat would have.

She’s offering you the stick, and you were about to take it off her hands before she pulls it away, an “uh-uh” coming out disapprovingly. 

“What?” You ask, looking back at her, head tilted, giving you a look. She holds it up one more time, closer to your mouth this time. 

Your eyes cycle back and forth from hers to the stick, trying to figure if there’s some sort of ulterior motive that Somi’s trying to pull. But seeing her round ebony globes turn to crescents, face grinning, brows wagging lets you know that she really does want to feed you her meat. 

Your breath catches briefly before you let out this airy laugh. This doesn’t feel remotely close to the Somi you know, but you’re enjoying it either way.

“Unbelievable.” You mutter out, leaning in to bite the cube of flesh off the stick, chewing it slowly, savoring the flavor of the meat—definitely pork—and the sweet taste of the sauce it was dipped on before Somi bought it off the stall.

“Told you it’s good.” She’s already smug about it, finishing up the skewer before she uses the stick to dig into the fishcakes. “Almost as good as yours.”

“Did–did you just compare me to pork?” 

“Yours is still the best, babe.” She’s smirking, putting a piece of cake into her mouth before walking away. “Let’s go see what else is on the menu.”

You two move through the area, trying out whatever peaks catches your interest, like those fish bread that had bean paste inside, some fried dumplings, and a bowl of spicy ramen that you could get for free if you ate it within the set time limit. 

Both you and Somi left that shop a few bills short and egos bruised.

Your tongue is scorching from the heat and spices of whatever monstrosity of a ramen bowl you just ate, half tempted to take off your jacket while you’re at it and Somi’s wiping a tear from her eye, huffing short breaths. Just trying to recover from how fucking spicy the noodles were, and trying to salvage any shred of pride you two have.

“I think I’m dying.” She hisses out, fanning her face with her bucket hat. “We need milk or something. Anything. Just–what the fuck was in that ramen–just needs to be cold.”

You're scanning the nearby stalls, trying to find something that can alleviate this flame burning your mouths. Ice cream, shakes, something freezing. You’d take plain old water if it was kept frozen for hours on end.

Then you see it. Squeezed between two vendors, condensation dripping down the glass dispenser, ice and lemons floating over the body of water within. You can feel how cold it is from a mile away. It’s a Godsend, a light to guide you out of this hell, and Somi sees it too, speed walking towards the kiosk with you right behind her.

As soon as you approach the owner, he’s already preparing cups as if he knows everyone who’s tried the ramen came to his stall. Freezing cubes, citrusy yellow fruits, chilly H2O, all combined into a concoction that would bring forth paradise to the inside of your lips.

Somi doesn’t bother with a straw, she just pops the lid open and starts chugging it down while you’re still paying for your drinks, saying your thanks as you start drinking your own plastic cup. It’s refreshing, dousing the blaze in icy cold liquid.

The lemonade does its job, allowing a respite to finally breathe again. Somi’s already finished her drink, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, letting out a laugh.

“We’re checking every instant ramen pack we buy after that.” She says, shaking her head, blowing air through her mouth, still feeling the effects of the noodles. You let out this hum of agreement, too occupied with the bliss of the cold refreshment.

“Oh yeah.” You finally sigh out, licking your lips. “That was worse than your cooking.”

She swats your arm, light but firm enough to make you almost drop your juice. 

“My cooking’s great!” Her brows furrow, cheeks puffing out.

“Exactly. That was made by the Devil. Anything’s better than that.” You shift your grip, making sure that nothing spilled onto your hand while giving her a look.

She rolls her eyes, muttering about how ‘ungrateful’ you are when her gaze flickers past you; Her brows raise, jaw slacking slightly making you turn your head to follow her sight.

Your lips were about to part, to ask her what she’s looking at, until a deep boom cuts through the festival. It was slow, steady, pulsing, shaking the ground with each beat. Everyone around you stirs, turning to the source near the open area in the middle. You see costumed dancers with large fans on their hands. The beat of the drums goes faster, and you’re unconsciously taking Somi by the wrist, pulling her towards the performance. 

The show is spectacular; the colors of their dresses swirling around, the lights bouncing off them. They dance like a well-oiled machine, giving the spectators a show of a lifetime.

Your head turns, glancing at Somi, who’s just as immersed as you were, a glow in her those small orbs that you can get lost in that only ever shows when she’s gazing at things she cares intimately about. The orange light frames her face perfectly, the flickering shining through, a rawness in how she’s watching being written in her visage.

You can tell that she’s not just watching. The way her lips are still parted, her body nodding to the beat. She’s taking it in, losing herself in it, oblivious to the outside world. Oblivious to your staring.

Everyone’s focused on the dancers, the ballad of drums thumping along with each step they take, the muttering of the crowd as they’re wow’d by the show blending in with the smell of the nearby food stands. But all you’re focused on is her.

Somi’s blowing you away under the warm hue of the lanterns, a honeyed light encapsulating her hazel hair that makes her look like a Goddess; Shit, she probably is, and you can’t help but trace every little feature of her face; The curves of her cheekbones, the fullness of her lips, the light in her eyes. While everyone’s breath is taken away from the performers, yours is taken away by her.

She looks like she’s a dream that you’ve all but imagined. One you could spend the rest of your life looking at.

And you want to tell her. God, do you want to tell her.

But you settle for holding her hand instead, giving it a light squeeze. She squeezes back.

“It’s beautiful.” Her focus is still centered on them, talking about the performance.

“Yeah.” You’re talking about her. “It is.”

She turns, locking her gaze onto yours, and she realizes that too. 

Her grip on your hand gets tighter as the last beat drums out into the air, the group posing, bowing, thanking everyone. Claps and cheers sound out as everyone slowly returns to what they were doing before.

Just like the two of you do, when a smirk appears on her face. “Getting sappy on me?”

“Shut up.” You chuckle, walking backwards, your hand never letting go of hers as you continue on exploring. The warmth in your chest still lingers.

She lets out this tiny teasing giggle, fingers squeezing playfully, letting herself be strung along the crowd. The entire place feels even more lively than it was before the dance, the swarm of people occupying the stalls once more, the energy at an all time high. 

You can still smell the aroma of the kebabs, trying to pull you back in for another taste. You see the hellish ramen shop full of people lined up to take on the challenge; The lemonade stand has pre-made cups ready.

You nudge Somi, nodding to the stand, where the current contestant’s booking it to buy said juice, causing you two to laugh at the similarities.

You and her floated, going everywhere, doing everything. Listening to the band that performed earlier do a much more calmer beat. Watching Somi try—and fail—at shooting darts.

“You good?” Your arms are crossed, amusement coloring your face as she’s aiming at the board, an eyelid closed, tongue sticking out at the side, arm cocking forward. “I can do it for you, you know.”

“Shush.” A moment. An arm extending. A thunk in the air.

“Nice.” You’re clapping. “You hit nothing three times.”

She grunts, slamming down coins on the table. “You do it then.”

And you did. You hit dead center twice. You got a small keychain of a lantern too.

Somi’s sulking, arms crossed as she stares at the board, muttering out one word. “How?”

“You’re just bad.” You can’t help but be smug about it.

You got another smack on the arm for that.

The sun’s starting to set when the both of you ended up at the souvenir portion of the place, where you can see another line on a small photobooth on the side, stalls of handmade jewelry, charms, candles, whatever can be kept as keepsakes after today.

You’re window shopping—mostly—while Somi’s going through each and every one of the sellers, picking up trinkets that catch her eye. A bracelet here, an amulet there, she’ll try them all.

You’re mostly sticking to one, browsing through columns of rings, some similar, others completely different; A variety of colors, simply intricate designs, silver and gold bands all presented in ring boxes. A few have stones adorned on them, or have engravings etched in the metal.

Yet you only see one, tucked away in a corner. You hover over it, brushing your fingers over its container, and you pick it up.

The ring itself is made of this ashen grey metal, a thin turquoise line running in the middle, looping around it. It doesn’t scream attention, but there’s something fitting about it that makes you want to-

“What you got there?” Somi’s back with you, staring at the box that you’re holding. 

You blink, and you have an epiphany; The ring wasn’t for you, it’s for her.

“Put it on.” You take the ring out of the box and place it down, and you can feel the merchant look away and whistle.

“You’re proposing already?”

“Thought it would suit you.”

She laughs, takes it off your hands and twirls it, examining it for herself. She smiles, small, almost unnoticeable, and slowly slides it on her ring finger—it fits perfectly.

“What do you know,” Somi’s admiring it on her hand. “It does suit me.” There’s a fondness in the way she says it, as if she already likes the feeling of having it on her finger.

You were expecting her to follow up on that proposal joke she made before she put it on; She didn’t.

You had that gut feeling that she’d like it earlier, but the way she looks at it catches you off guard. Like it was something that she didn’t know she needed. Like a memento that came from someone special. Someone like you.

And that was all you needed to know to get it for her.

“So what did you get?” You’re nonchalantly changing the topic, trying to hide your excitement by fishing a few more bills out of your wallet, making a subtle face at the seller like you were asking for the price.

“This.” She says just as you pay and grab the ring box from the table. “You got me this.”

“Oh.” You shrug. That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “Well, I-uh, I hope you like it.”

“I love it.” She corrects, thumbing the ring. “I’m never taking it off.”

“Now who’s getting sappy?”

She makes this noise—happy, embarrassed—and shakes her head, smiling. “I hate you.”

You chuckle. “No, you don’t.”

She doesn’t answer. She only tugs you by the hand. “Come on, I heard there’s fireworks and the beach has the best view.”

You can’t help but tease her a bit when your brow raises and your lip turns upwards. “You didn’t get me anything did you?”

“Keep talking and I won’t get you anything at all.”

—

You can feel the festival’s energy stay with you two when you reach the outskirts of the beach, the faint smell of all the food you’ve passed by lingering on your clothes. But the chaos of it all is dimmer, the coastline not as populated, with only a few scattered around the area.

You took the long way back, enjoying the nightlife scenery of the area—without shenanigans—seeing everyone else enjoy the festival just as you did, the orange lights being replaced with the moonlight, some of the organizers prepping the colorful rockets that will dazzle the crowd later on.

Somi hasn’t stopped smiling, fooling around every other moment, raving all about the fireworks like it's the New Years and she needs someone to do that kissing tradition people do when it hits quadruple zeroes.

Wasn’t like you’d say no. Win in your books really.

The both of you end up on a pathway of rubble and stones, eventually coming across a set of benches looking towards the shore. She acts first, moving forward, pulling you with her to sit on the wooden chair.

Other than the sound of the waves crashing and the cicadas, it was finally quiet. A nice, comfortable quiet. Enjoying the silent peace, away from the chaos of the festival.

She rests her head on your shoulder, hand still looped around yours. “Borrow your jacket?”

“Sure.” You don’t hesitate, already moving to take your jacket off. You pull away from her for a moment to slip it from your shoulders and drape it over hers, securing it over her arms.

“Thanks.” Her fingers take a hold of the leather, pulling it closer to herself before she nestles back against you. A moment passes between you two, then–

“It’s still fucking cold.”

“I can always get you another bowl of that ramen–”

“No. Snuggle me.”

“O-kay.” And snuggle her you did. Arm over her shoulder, a kiss on her forehead. You two stay like that for a while until she takes another whiff of you, and squints.

“You really need to tell me that perfume you’re wearing.” She states.

“I’ll hand you the bottle back at the hotel.” She pouts.

“Just tell me the name already.” She whines. It was cute.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” She’s puffing her cheeks. It was cuter.

“Killjoy.” She elbows lightly. “Gonna snoop through your luggage for that bottle.”

“And now you’ll never get it.” You grin. It turns into a laugh when she elbows you a bit harder this time.

You two quiet down after, enjoying the view of the beach. She’s holding on to your hand, that ring on her finger glinting. She stares at it, smiling like an idiot again.

“Really outdid yourself this time, huh.” She mutters, too low for you to hear.

You hum, glancing down at her still staring at her hand. “Did you say something?”

She meets your eyes, giving you that look that she had back when you two were watching the performance happen. She holds it a beat too long, and opens her mouth to speak—

“Aeri told me.” She starts, gaze staying on you, even as you look away. Of course Aeri is a rat. “About why we’re here.” She chuckles. “And I think I should clear things up between us.”

“You don’t have to-” A nudge stops you from continuing.

“Shut up and let me talk.” Even when she’s serious there’s still that faint teasing inside of her. But it gives way when she breathes in and holds it, and lets it go.

“Every ex I’ve had was there because I’m ‘hot’. The easy fuck. And I knew about it.” She continues, thumb moving around the ring once more. “So I leaned into that stuff. I love doing it anyway, so I thought it’d be a win-win for everyone, you know?” She looks away, back to the shoreline. “But it didn’t feel right. Like–like yeah the sex was good–you’re the best–” She clarifies, and that kind of made your ego swell up a bit.

By a lot, actually.

“–But it was just sex. Honestly felt like I was booty call than anything else.” She shakes her head, sighing, tired from remembering those times, but pushes on anyway.

“So when we started fucking, it was different.” Her fingers tighten around the jacket. “It was fun. Well, sex is always fun, but it was funnier–”

“Funner.” You interject. Another elbow.

“Shut up.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, with you it’s sorta not like that. I actually want to fuck you because I–”

She licks her lips, a little embarrassed about what she’s going to say next even though you already know what she’s about to do anyways.

“–I love you and I know that I don’t say it too much and I knowIshouldbutlikeIdont–”

“Somi, breathe.” Your arm over her grips her shoulder, just enough to ground her back from her short crashout.

She leans back into your chest, hiding, whining, breathing. One last deep inhale, and she’s sitting back up.

“Okay, okay.” Somi exhales, shaking off any sort of fluster she has left. “I’m fine, good, chill.” A finger pokes your chest. “You really need to tell me what your perfume is.”

“If it lets you say ‘I love you’ more then I’ll get you an entire bottle.”

“Oh my God.” She laughs, hand over her face. “You are not gonna tell me the name aren’t you?”

“Maybe after the trip.” You shrug, chuckling yourself as you watch her laugh harder.

“Such a jackass.” She lets out, her laughter dying down. “Seriously though, you might think that I fuck you for shits and giggles like Aeri said you were thinking. And while I appreciate the fact that you did all this–” Her hand finds yours, soft, firm, assuring. You can feel the ring indent against your skin. “–I also appreciate you a lot more. So don’t you fucking doubt that, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” You smile, pecking her lips. “Love you.”

“...Love you too.” She smiles, hiding behind her hair this time. “Even if you won’t give me your damn perfume.”

“You are obsessed with finding out what it is.” 

“Yeah, and I am losing my fucking mind about it.” She’s back to cuddling you, your arm over her frame, dumb dopey little smiles on each of your faces. The small quiet moment passes, then—

“Sorry if I brought up exes, just–thought it was important.”

“You let me know I’m your best fuck. Nothing to be sorry about.” You get another light ribbing for that, but the giggle that comes out of her doesn’t deny your statement.

Something else was gnawing at you though.

“Did Aeri really rat me out?” You ask, scoffing, noting that you shouldn’t trust Aeri with any more secret trips. And maybe advice too.

Her eyebrows hike up. “What, because she let me know that you’re a closet Romeo in hiding?”

“I want to say that I’m more Han Solo than Romeo when it comes to romance.”

And the laugh that comes out of her sounded so genuine, so beautiful, so hers. “And I’m Princess Leia?”

“I mean,” You exaggerated, prolonging the word out in the air and making this face at her. “It’s better than being dead as Juliet. And Romeo too.”

She laughs harder, and you can’t help but get drawn into it too. It’s contagious, her energy, her teasing, her everything.

Eventually it dies down to small giggles and chuckles, and you’re back to having that comfortable silence with her. Then she stands up and turns to you, arm outstretched towards you. “Come on Romeo, still gotta get you something.”

“Are you trying to cheapskate by getting me a seashell?” A grin appears on your face as you let yourself be dragged away by her once more.

“Don’t forget about the fireworks.” She tosses over her shoulder, hurrying the both of you towards the sand, kicking off her shoes. You tug off your own, taking both pairs with you, leaving footprints down as you follow her into the grain.

The cold salty breeze of the sea hits you, and you see Somi waving to some of the people she passes by. Her hair flows down her back as the wind blows through, tilting her head back to feel the air, smiling as she closes her eyes. You wish you can take a photo of her because fucking hell is she beautiful.

Her head’s turning before you can, that familiar playful glint in her eye alongside a warmth that you’ve been craving for. So much so you’re unconsciously letting a smile break out of your face.

“What?” She asks, lips curling, as if she already knows where this is going. “Does Romeo have something to say?”

You don’t speak, only walk forward. Somi’s an arm’s length away when you drop your shoes onto the sand and take a hold of her, wrapping your arm around her waist, another resting on her cheek. She doesn’t pull away, if anything she leans into you, her own arms closing around your neck, and before you can act on kissing her, she’s pulling you instead.

Everything fades when her lips meet yours; All you can feel is how soft she is, the faint taste of fishcake and lemon hitting your tastebuds, her fingers threading around your hair. The way her cheek leans into your hand, the heat of her body molding to yours.

It’s different, not unlike every other kiss you’ve had with her. Desire, arousal, whatever you call it, it’s muted, replaced with warmth, joy, love. Less of a flicker and more of a flame, slowly gaining strength and settling within.

When she pulls away for air, the sight of her grinning is the first thing you see, breathless, eyes brighter than the shine of the moon. “Love you.” She utters, pecking your lips briefly, arms resting on your chest.

You only tilt your head, resting your forehead on hers, hands staying on her waist, keeping her close. You press your lips against hers, and it’s all the words she needs to feel how much you love her too.

A crack in the air splits the moment, making you turn your head to see bright lights in the air, the first wave of fireworks bursting into rainbows, crossing the dark skies.

“Told you this was the best view.” She says, eyes reflecting the colors in the clouds, the sounds of people cheering in the background muffled by all the cracking in the sky. 

You’re still holding her close as you watch the night get infected with the festival’s energy, each explosion painting the stars. The colors dance on the both of you—gold, crimson, azure—and you just can’t get enough of staring at her. 

“Ten out of ten.” You let out, no longer afraid of being caught by her. The smile on her face says she knows you’re talking about her, just like she did back at the festival. She doesn’t tease this time, accepting it instead.

Eventually the pauses between each wave of fireworks get longer, and you’re left with the sound of the waves crashing, the crowd splitting up into silent murmurs.

She sighs out, a small one, but you can feel the weight of everything leaving her. A laugh slips out, that familiar, joking little laugh with a hint of friskiness behind it.

“So,” A tug of your hand, and you’re heading back to the path out of the beach, passing by to pick up your shoes. “Wanna head back to the hotel and fuck all night?”

“Somi-”

“No, no.” She clarifies, swinging her arm and yours follow. “Romeo needs to realize that I love him. So I need to show him how much I do.”

…Oh.

There’s no teasing in there; Just pure honest resolve coming out. And when the words from before and now finally start to sink in, and your heart start to beat faster from the desire and the warmth that comes with all the implications of them. Physical, emotional, mental, spiritual.

Wasn’t just you thinking it’s all about fucking for her anymore. Not after that. You were just too wrapped up in your own thoughts to see the bigger picture. 

Maybe you did overthink things.

You don’t even feel her tugging you for a kiss, your name whispering out her lips. “I want this. I want you. No bullshit.”

And she means it. You believe her. With everything that she’s saying and doing and wanting and needing.

“I want you too. All of you.”

“Good.” She grins, and that was the brightest thing you’ve ever seen today. “Cause you’re not getting any sleep tonight.”

—

If there’s one thing that you didn’t regret paying for, it’s the hotel room. It wasn’t a suite or anything high-end nor was it any of the simple ones. It was the type after that, with the softer bed, the balcony view, a bigger TV—overall, just better.

So when you’re pushed down on the couch, Somi climbing on top of you, tongue shoved down your throat, you’re glad that the couch was pretty soft. You’re also glad that you can feel her tits pressing up against your chest when you kiss back.

She rolls her hips and gives your lower lip a bite that just fucks you up; She knows it too, when she grins and steals another kiss. Your hands rests on her waist, still rocking, grinding onto you. 

Somi’s everywhere; Resting on your shoulders, playing with your hair, slipping underneath your shirt. All the while her tongue is fighting yours, your own hands playing with the edges of her shirt.

You can feel your cock stirring, thickening underneath your pants, and it encourages her, keeping the slow pace that’s driving you insane.

“Someone’s enjoying this.” Her hands finally rest on your chest, face inches away from yours, that damn grin plastered on her face. She does it again, slower this time, and the sigh that comes out of her sounded like heaven on earth. Her grin widens, eyes flicking down to where you’re straining underneath your pants. “Really enjoying it.”

“Hey,” You squeeze a hip, smiling. “You fuck yourself on my lap like that, it’s kinda hard not to.” 

She hums, bringing your hands up to her tits, squeezing them over the shirt, molding them to be yours once more. You’ve felt her breasts so many times, through fabric, lace, bare, and you’ll never get tired of being able to have the privilege to cup them in your hands.

“God, Somi,” You groan, both from the way she’s forcing you to grope her chest—you’re into it as much as she is—and the way her hips are still rolling. She’s always been enthusiastic about sex, but this, this felt different. This is her offering everything, heart, body, and soul.

It wasn’t about her pleasure tonight. It was about yours.

“Does Romeo need help?” She asks, grinding, circling her weight down on you, making you squeeze harder on her tits. Intentional or not, she didn't care, all she does is let out another laugh because she knows you’re this close to throwing her to the bed.

She doesn’t wait for you to reply, take action, anything. Somi’s sinking down on her knees with this greedy, hungry look, her fingers making quick work of your belt buckle as she pushes your pants and your boxers down, your throbbing cock freed.

You know what’s going to happen; She’s done this so many times, she’s perfected the art of it. And you can’t wait.

“Fuck-” Somi licks her lips, wrapping a hand around you. She jerks you off slowly as she settles in between your legs, getting closer to your cock. You can feel her breath being so damn close. “Gonna worship you tonight baby.”

And the way she drags her tongue from the tip to the base in one agonizingly slow lick makes you wanna just, shit, you don’t even know. She was hot, wet, too damn slow, your cock twitching in her hand as she went back up to your head.

The next few minutes were her tongue tracing along your cock, leaving kisses where she knows you’re weak to, leaving your cock covered in spit, and she hasn’t even taken it in her mouth yet. 

She’s a damn tease, leaving you dying from the pleasure, arms gripping the couch as you let her do whatever she wanted with your cock. Her hands aren’t idle, stroking your spit-laden cock, playing with your balls, breathy little moans coming out of her mouth when she twirls her tongue on the tip.

You’re this close to begging, the need to thrust into her lips growing higher. But you won’t. Even though this is for you, it’s her play, and you’re here to enjoy the show.

You don’t even realize you called her name out, only that a smile appears on her face when she starts licking past the base of your cock and down to your balls. She takes one of them into her mouth, wetting them, her hot breath enveloping, encapsulating.

And the way she sucks on them, God it was like she wanted to kill you. Her tongue coating one, two, both, while her hands were playing with your shaft, jerking you, using her nails to trace the veins, thumbing the tip of your cock.

Somi’s a fucking menace, and she knows it. 

“Still alive?” She mutters, letting your balls go with a pop, sucking in her spit, drooling it all over your cock, making such a pretty mess of you.

“I need,” You’re desperate, panting, your own hands finding solace in her hair, resting, gripping, cock painfully wanting her mouth on it. You can’t even fucking talk, because this wasn’t pleasure, it was torture.

“Tell me.” She says, mouth hovering over your tip, letting out these pants that make your cock ache even more. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Somi-” You can’t. Not when she’s fucking teasing you with her tongue, running it all over your tip, those brown eyes darkening with a need for your cock, your words, your end.

“Come on, Romeo.” You can barely call it jerking off with how much she’s slowed her hands down. “You can do it.”

“Shit, need you-” You’re thrusting your hips, throwing away your pride to silently beg instead of telling her what you want.

“Just one word, baby.”

“Somi, please-”

And her mouth takes you. All of you.

You swear a bell rang out the moment her lips came into contact with your cock, because the only thing you can see is white, and she’s the angel that’s coming to bring you to Heaven.

Once she takes your entire length, she stops, holding you there inside of her throat. Her tongue’s flat under your shaft, trying to move and get a taste of your balls. You don’t know how long she’s had your cock in her mouth, and you don’t care. You already lost count when she got on her knees.

She pulls back, spit coating her chin, dripping down her shirt. Strings of them are still connecting her lips to your cock as she wraps them back into you, sucking on the tip, tongue working all over, and her hands are back to pumping you.

“So good,” She lets out, lips still making out with your tip, giving you a cheeky wink that is making you lose your fucking mind. She takes more of you, mouth so damn hot, cock drowning how it’s getting wetter, cheeks hollowing as she starts to suck.

You thought you were dying when it was just her tongue. You’re six feet under when she starts bobbing her head on your cock, and she isn’t just worshipping. Fuck that, this is murder. 

There’s no method to her madness. She’ll go with slow, shallow, deep strokes, memorizing every inch, every vein of your cock that makes your toes curl. Suddenly she ramps it up to eleven and fucks her face on your cock, burying you inside of her throat, bracing yourself by gripping her hair tighter. Or she’ll be doing it somewhere in-between, her tongue flicking the tip, hands jerking you, eyes staring into yours.

“You love this, don’t you.” It’s a statement, one she makes after she’s throated your cock. You can’t let out a response when she’s coming back down, lips making out with your tip instead of going back down to the base.

You’re losing your fucking mind. Every time you thought she’d settle into a rhythm, she switches it up, keeping you on your toes, lips grinning, tiny little giggles coming out of her while she’s giving your cock the best blowjob you’ve ever had.

“Fucking adore this cock.” Your cock’s pushing against her cheeks, giving you this one hell of a view. “And it’s all mine.”

Her eyes did not fucking help. Every flick of her tongue, stroke of her hand, bob of her head. Those dark eyes did not leave yours. She’s already ruined you for anyone else, but this is ruining you.

The only thing you can do is let out these weak groans, moans that were borderline begging, just trying to hang on to the ride she’s giving you.

“God–” She starts, spitting another batch of saliva down your cock, her entire face a mess with spit and . “I could do this all night.”

Somi loves it. You know she does. Relishing in it, thriving off of every flex of your leg, every twitch of your fingers, every thrust of your hips.

It’s fueling her, knowing that you’re letting her do anything she wants to you. It’s a goddamn power trip, and she lets you feel how much she’s enjoying you wrapped around her pretty lips.

The moans she’s letting out causing those vibrations to spread all over your cock. The gags that follow were fucking filthy, so wet, so raw. Her throat’s pulsing, contracting around you whenever she takes you down all the damn way. Every choke is a sign of victory that keeps her going, fingers digging your thighs, spit leaking down her mouth.

She pops off of your cock, sucking in a breath. You heard it differently. Messy, needy, undeniably Somi. She’s grinning as she comes back to sliding her tongue over your shaft, spit all over the place.

Somi was not lying when she’ll be worshipping your cock tonight. She’s staking her claim on you, letting you know that nobody else can do it like she can. She’s in the top 1 percent of sucking dick, and you’re extremely lucky to have met this whirlwind of a woman.

“Gimme.” She doesn’t bother asking if you’re close. She can see you’ve been wanting to burst ever since she put her lips on you. “Gimme all that cum, baby. I’ll take all of it. Mouth, face, anywhere you fucking want.”

“Somi–” You growl, teeth gritting, the urge to ruin her entire face with your load at an all time high. Your hands pull her hair, signaling where you want it. “Fa–shit, babe. All over your face.”

“Yeah?” Somi’s stroking you faster, eyes locking with yours, sticking her tongue out as she opens wide. She’s just as fucked as you were, hair all messy from the pushing and pulling you’ve done, strands of it sticking to her flushed cheeks, spit running down her chin.

She’s the filthiest she’s ever been on her knees, and all the nasty things she’s saying, every single word that comes out of her mouth, that sent you over the edge.

“Gonna ruin me? Cover me in your cum? Turn me into your cumdump–ah!”

You're all over her. On her forehead, over her eye, on top of her nose. She’s gasping, moaning, reveling in your cum. She’s getting messier, cum on her hair, her cheeks, her lips.

“Fuck yes,” She draws out, licking her lips, having a taste. “Always so much cum.”

It’s a damn shame you couldn’t commit the view to memory because all you can feel is how good it was when Somi’s jerking you off, covering herself in you. It felt even better when she shoves herself back down her throat, swallowing the last few drops.

You groan, feeling her cheeks hollow out one last time, draining you of the last few drops you let out. You finally get a good view of her after the fallout of your orgasm, and she is drenched in white, one eye closed, lips stretched in a smile even with your cock sandwiching them. 

She pulls your cock out of her lips, and she grins while you’re still sitting on the couch reeling from whatever the fuck that was.

“Oh my God,” You sear her cum-streaked face into your brain, her shirt wet from the spit and cum, because holy shit does she look shamelessly ecstatic with how dirty she is while you’re still remembering how to breathe. “You’re just–what the fuck?”

Somi laughs, tongue flicking out to catch a drop of cum sticking to her lips. Her fingers aren’t idle too, scooping up the cum and sucking them clean. “That’s one.”

“What, are we–” You adjust yourself, watching how she cleans herself up of your cum. Every stray, every glob of it lands on her mouth, and she’s enjoying it like it’s ice cream. “Are we keeping score?”

She smirks, hands dropping down to grip the hem of her shirt, and she’s pulling it over her head, landing somewhere behind her—you don’t care—showing a lacy black bra. 

“Round two?” The bra comes off too, and you’re left looking at two very convincing arguments to keep going.

Then she’s coming back down to your cock, giving you these lazy licks, cleaning you up, taking care of you. You consider it the third argument, your cock stirring, twitching back upwards.

“Come on, Romeo. My tits still need to be fucked.” She says, cupping said breasts, giving them a good squeeze. She leans down, letting a trickle of her spit fall down between them; You are so fucking screwed.

Somi’s pulling your hands to her tits, holding them over her hands. You already had a feel of them earlier, but God are they—she—the best you’ve ever held in your arms. 

“Relax, baby.” And she’s wrapping her perfect fucking tits around you, soft, warm, killer. “Just enjoy.”

She starts slow. Tits sliding up and down your cock, hands pressing around her chest. Yours, hers, it didn’t matter. She presses tighter, the pressure, pleasure, both increasing as every pump between them sends your already sensitive cock to another orgasm.

“Holy shit,” You groan, because it’s the only thing you can do. She has you wrapped around her finger, her tits, her tongue, which is occasionally licking your tip whenever it peaks and God, this is going to make you cum so damn fast.

“You can move, you know.” She’s even encouraging you to, letting out another glob of spit down her breasts, moving faster. “Fuck my tits, fuck them like you own them.”

And you do. You thrust up, once, experimental, and she slides down. Then another. Your hands settle on her shoulders. Another thrust. She squeezes tighter. The tempo goes faster.

“That’s it. Use my tits. Make a mess all over them. Want to feel it all in my tits, baby.” Somi’s riling you up again with all the dirty words that come out of her mouth. “Your slut wants more of your cum. Please. Please.”

Her shoulders are your lifeline, pumping faster, her tits bouncing with each stroke. She’s biting her lip, watching you—eager, hungry, devoted—fall apart under the slick, warm cushion of her breasts.

It’s all sending you closer to pumping another load onto her. Her tits, her face, her moans. It’s like you’re in a lucid dream with the way it all feels. Soft, tight, wet, it’s all too much for you, and that aching in your stomach is coming back too strong, too fast.

You’re so fucked out of your mind from earlier that your pace doesn’t last. Your rhythm stutters, and she picks up right where you left off, even faster than you did.

“Yeah, that’s it–” She’s gasping, her hot breath teasing you with every thrust. “Cum for me. Come on, baby, give me more.”

She puts her tongue back in the mix, leaning down to flick the head, and that makes you lose control.

Your hand takes a hold of her cheek as you give one last pump, hot spurts painting her chest, filling her cleavage, lining her collarbone.

Somi’s still fucking her tits on your cock, milking you for every last drop and you’re left shaking. Legs, hips, it didn’t matter. All you know is that you’re cumming for her, and her chest is your next canvas.

And when you’ve given her what she’s wanted, you’re slumping back, vision foggy, body suffering from the pleasure that Somi’s has brought before you. 

She’s grinning, giggling, laughing. Your cum’s all over her, dripping down, sticking onto her like glue, a pearl necklace fashioned over her. She’s licking the cum off her tits, scooping up the bits she can’t, having her second serving of your cum for the night.

She’s making a performance out of it, now and before, when she cleans herself up. Drawn out moans, hums, teasing little giggles. Eyes holding yours.

“So,” Somi takes a hold of your cock, lips on you once more, and it’s more painful than pleasurable this time. She’s still hungry for more and shit, you are too. Hungry for her.

“Shower?”

—

You didn’t even make it to the shower when you decided to pick her up, place her on the marble counter, pull her jeans down, and push her thong to the side. She was drenched, her pussy glistening, dripping in arousal. And you are starving.

Your mouth is on her pretty lips, tongue swiping everywhere. Teasing her slit with slow, teasing licks, fucking her entrance with your tongue, flicking her clit with your thumb. She’s trying to drown you with her juices, the taste of her so sweet and pungent.

“Keep going–fuck, right there–” She’s gasping, cursing, grinding on your mouth. Her soft thighs are wrapping around your face, pulling you deeper, nails digging into your scalp. The pleasure’s taking over her entire being, filth spewing out of her mouth.

You’re holding her thighs, forcing them apart before you start to fuck her with your fingers—two—while your tongue moves to flicking her clit. Her walls are squeezing them, tight, wet, hot.

“Oh my God,” Somi’s panting, watching you feast on her pussy, tracking the hand that gave her thigh a little slap—a warning—before you reach upwards to cup one of her tits, feeling how good it molds to your touch.

You pinch a bud just as you curl your fingers insider her, hitting her right where you know will fuck her up even more. And she does, moaning, squirming, trembling all for you.

“I’m so close–please, please, please–” Somi’s singing you praises, hips thrusting into you, wanting to chase that high that you’ve been holding her back from, edging her from achieving it.

Until you decided that she’s been a good enough girl for you and started pumping your fingers and your tongue faster. You grope her breast harder, watch her fall apart for you, her voice peaking, begging. Her pussy making these filthy noises with each thrust of your fingers.

You give her tit another greedy grope, and you raise your hand to give it a rough slap. That’s enough to send her spiraling, reeling, cumming.

“Fuck–fuck–fuck–” Somi’s shaking, thighs quivering, back arching as the pleasure consumes her. You’re fucking her all throughout it, sucking her clit. She’s dripping down your fingers, your chin, the counter.

“Shit, baby–” Somi’s pushing your head off, her own resting back onto the mirror behind her. Her legs are still twitching as you stand up, caressing them. “This payback from earlier or what–”

“A guy can’t eat his girlfriend out?” You peck her lips, one of your hands reaching up to cup her tits as the other is brushing up the inside of her thighs.

“Make that two and a half then.” She chuckles, and for a second there her eyes had this loving glint, layered with the normal teasing gleam in them.

“Now, seriously. Shower and then we make it three.”

—

“Cumming!”

Somi’s wrapping her legs around your waist, back against the glass, pussy tightening around your cock. Her chocolate hair is sticking on her face, wet from the warm water that was falling around your bodies.

Her toes are curling as you pound her throughout her orgasm, her arms pulling you tighter, moaning profanities into your ear while you readjust your grip on her ass and give her slow, deep thrusts to keep you from slipping under the tiles.

“Harder–fuck–fuck me harder–” Her pussy’s gushing around you, thighs shaking, holding onto you for dear life as you slowly start to thrust faster. “Want, want your cum inside–shit–”

You grunt as her nails start to dig into your back, burying your face into her neck, biting hard enough to leave marks. She whimpers, legs locking around you, pussy somehow squeezing you tighter, and it’s getting to you.

Her soft, big tits pressed against your chest, her sighs directly reverberating into your ears combined with the sound of wet flesh slapping together, pussy clenching everytime you hit her g-spot.

It’s making you want to go faster, harder, deeper. You’re getting desperate to chase your high, all because of Somi. 

“‘M close.” You groan just as she cries out, her pussy pulsing, another climax approaching her body. She pulls away from your neck to press her lips against yours—needy, loving moans humming out of her as she tangles her fingers into her hair.

And that was all it took to make you cum, slamming into her, spilling your cum deep inside, the ecstasy crashing over your body as you lean forward to have the shower glass support the both of you. 

Somi’s shaking, milking you of every drop, screams echoing around the bathroom as she experiences another wave of pleasure rippling her entire body. 

The sound of water falling and breathing is the only thing left filling the air, the both of you clinging to each other to bask in the afterglow.

“Fuck, Romeo.” She giggles, forehead pressing against yours. “First you go down on me, now this?”

“What can I say,” You nuzzle back into her neck, leaving a kiss over one of the hickeys you’ve left her. “You got me all worked up back on the couch.”

And she laughs, head tilting back, and even with the water blinding you she looks so beautiful.

—

Your hands were busy groping her soft, full ass when she straddles you, back facing your chest as she rubs her pussy on your length before she eases herself down. She’s taking all of you, pussy dripping, heat wrapping around.

“God, this cock,” She sighs, arching her back. “Still so hard for me.”

You’re loving the way her pussy’s clenching around you, taking your length every time Somi bounced that tight ass of hers. Your hold on her ass tightens when she starts to pick up speed, that rhythmic sound of skin hitting skin starting to permeate the air.

It’s a symphony of moans spilling out of lips, creaks of the bed underneath you, and wet slicks of her pussy gripping your cock playing in the room, and you had the best view in the house when she starts to roll her hips like that.

“Babe, what–what the fuck–” The next few seconds were spent spouting out the dumbest shit you’ve ever said in your life, because the moment she leaned forward and popped her ass out even more to fuck herself on your cock you were losing mental capacity by the second.

“Want it slow?” She slows down and turns her head to look at you. It’s torture hidden in paradise, the pace she’s bouncing almost stopping to a crawl. “Or fast?”

“Whatever you want, just, you–” You can’t help but crash your hand down on her ass, the smack rippling the air. Somi takes it the wrong—or right, who gives a fuck—way and starts to ride you, picking up right where she left off; Ruining you.

She’s unrelenting now, fucking herself on your cock, that hypnotizing ripple of her ass staring back at you, drawing you in, drowning you. From the way she’s moving her hips, hitting every deep spot inside her on every drop of her ass, the curses that she’s singing; It’s all so fucking devilishly heavenly.

Hands grip the sheets, holding on for dear life as she’s getting more and more unhinged with how she’s slamming down on you. One of them reaches up to her ass, that goddamn ass that looks so fuckable, you can’t stop yourself from sliding your thumb over her asshole.

“Y-Yeah?” She’s too lost in her own pleasure to give out any sort of decent reply, her voice coming out as whimpers and moans and cries of pleasure in between all of it. “Want, want my ass again don’t you Romeo–”

You push your finger in the entrance, and she starts to break.

“Oh shit–” She gets impossibly tight as she starts convulsing, toes curling, body falling, hips still fucking fucking. One last slam of her ass and she’s lost it, moans, whimpers, screams; All in a span of a few moments.

You take it as a sign to move. Leave another slap on her ass as you sit upright and pull her towards you, falling back down as you start to fuck her, chasing after your own orgasm, the want to give another coating of your load inside of her growing higher and higher.

Hands grab everywhere; Her tight stomach, heavy tits, her neck. You’re not letting her rest after her climax as you give her neck a little squeeze, her cunt clenching around you, and that makes you see stars.

She’s coming with you when she’s pulled for a kiss, sloppy and needy and so adoring. Tongues are fighting when you’re buried deep inside her, taking every single drop of hot white cum. She’s groaning, feeling all of you pour into her.

And when it ends, you’re both catching your breath, 

“You might end up killing me tonight.” She mutters, leaving these little pecks and kisses over your jaw, your cheeks, your lips.

“You’ll do me in first.” You reply, hands coming back down to wrap around her waist as you pull out, feeling your spunk leak out onto the sheets.

She giggles like she always does, leaving another kiss on your lips, cheeks flushing from uttering the next words that come out of her. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Somi.” You grin. Two simple words and you’re getting all giddy again. “Love you too.”

—

You two didn’t really stop.

There were breaks in between, of course. Get a glass of water, have short cuddly moments, make out sessions before she pulls you into another round. Or vice versa.

It’s a back and forth, really.

She drags you outside to rail her in the balcony, the cool air hitting the both of you as the view of the beach greets you. Somi’s loud, uncaring of the nearby rooms as you pump her cunt full of another load.

You have her head dangling off the side of the bed, fucking her face, lodging your cock down her throat. Spit’s running down her face as she takes every inch of you, trying—and failing—to finger herself in time with your thrusts while you’re holding onto her tits until she can drink all of the cum that you’ll inevitably feed her.

Somi’s shoving you back down the couch, cock up her ass as she rides you. Her tits are fucking hypnotizing, and you’re latching onto one of her buds, sucking, swirling, nipping. She’s crying out, shoving you deeper into her cleavage as you fill her ass.

You’re fucking her on top of the table, her back scraping the wood. She’s pulling your hands to her tits, giving one of them a slap before pinching her hard nub, another staying down to rub her clit. You leave a kiss on her forehead as you cum together.

She’s on top of you again—on the bed this time—as she grinds her hips, her walls gripping, pulsing around your cock. She took it slow, deliberate, teasing, enjoying how much you’re squirming underneath her. Her nubs are brushing against your chest as she locks lips with yours, all tongue, until your legs lock up and you’re cumming inside her.

The hotel was a complete mess by the time you two were done.

You ended up back on the bed, the both of you spent. Your cock is aching from the amount of times you came in the last few (How long were you two fucking?) hours while her cunt’s leaking all the cum you’ve dumped inside of her.

Somi’s draping an arm over your chest, her fingers tracing shapes on your skin. That ring you gave her never came off the entire night.

“Nine’s a hell of a record.” She smiles, curling up to you, breathing heavy from all the activities. “Best night of my life.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, playing with her hair. “Tell that to my dick.”

“I don’t hear you complaining.” She slaps your chest, light, teasing. “You loved it.”

“You’re not wrong.” You leave a kiss on her forehead. “I do.”

“Love you too.” She smiles, reaching up to give you a kiss. She’s warm, that tingly feeling rising out of your stomach. You’re both grinning into the kiss, slow, deep, hands cupping her face, hers resting on your chest.

The next few minutes were spent talking about the random things that crossed your minds.

Shit like showers—

“We’re gonna need another shower.” 

“I’m too sore.”

“I can probably carry–”

“...I take it back. I can’t move either.”

Getting Aeri back for ratting you out—

“You seriously think Aeri would hook up with him of all people?”

“I mean, they kinda already did.”

“What the hell, since when?”

“The night after they fucked–”

“Don’t be a smartass, Romeo.”

The plans tomorrow—

“We’re hitting the beach tomorrow.”

“You just want to see me in a bikini.”

“And maybe dunk you in the water. But yeah. Bikini.”

Somi being a lovingly clingy idiot for the first time—

“Love me.”

“I am loving you.”

“You’re not doing it enough.”

It was dumb, pointless, and sorta ironic. From the quiet moments that you wanted and the copious amounts of sex you tried to avoid, it felt oddly worth it.

And it was just the first day. You don’t know whether you should be jumping for joy or scared for your life.

But you can’t say that you can ask for anything else—

“Wanna have another go to round it up?”

“Somi–”

Now, if there is such a word that combines happiness and fear, that would be what you’re feeling right now.

Still worth it.

[katiekatdragon27]

Guys you don't understand how much I love these two. (Oh yeah, and Finn's there too)

Glisten: Awww~ Shrimpo, you remembered Shrimpo: B*tch I'm in LOVE with you, of course I REMEMBERED! Glisten: What!? Wait really?? This is very sudden wow! (You said you were straight?) Shrimpo: AAAAAAAAAA

Finn: (yapping) Shrimpo and Glisten: SHUT THE F*CK UP, FINN!! Shrimpo and Glisten: ... Shrimpo and Glisten: (kissing)

The first comic takes place before the two started dating. Shrimpo is really really really bad at expressing emotions other than anger and frustration, so anytime he tries to express anything, he just blurts out his feelings without thinking. Then he gets second-hand embarrassment lol. Glisten was pretty aware that Shrimpo liked him before, but he's pretending to be surprised to make Shrimpo "feel better" (also to mildly embarrass him lol).

Also, I think that Shrimpo and Glisten bonding over hating Finn is very based and true. They need that autistic man to SHUT UP/silly

I think Shrimpo and Finn are very cousin coded. Not close enough to be siblings but definitely got some familial genes going on imo (plz don't shoot me Shrimpbowl shippers🙏🙏🙏) Doesn't stop Shrimpo from being violent towards Finn tho, and Finn does nothing to deter it lol (he finds it funny). Also, Glisten throws no punches bc he doesn't want to get his hands dirty.

Finn: Sooooo?? How was the daaaate~ Finn: No need to be such a clam about it! Shrimpo: I'M SO KILLING YOU!

The second image takes place the day after this post lol. Shrimpo is recovering from a hangover covered in lipstick kisses and super conflicting emotions and Finn is NOT helping.

On the other end, I've been thinking about Shimmer a lot lol. So here is a doodle of her with her "sister aunt" Toodles, and Pebbles.

They all get along super well. In this pic, Toodles is like 12ish and Shimmer is 4 (but her weird biology made her age up to like 7 here). Pebble is pebble, that's all you need to know.

Also, I was in a horror-ish mood earlier so here are some Twisteds <33 (below cut cuz kinda scary):

I love you angst comfort. My sib pointed out while playing one day that Shrimpo looked traumatized as a Twisted, which like, fair, but it make me think.

Glisten: "They say you are not here anymore. But I think you are."

I had this silly idea that Twisted Shrimpo was infected by Dandy personally, and that whole conflict got Shrimpo's lower jaw ripped off. He is very violent and volatile, and very hard to calm down. But, when he runs into a twisting Glisten alone and scared, he comforts him (to the best of his ability).

Since Glisten is still able to be somewhat conscious, he realizes that the Twisteds are actually not completely gone like he originally thought, and it helps him keep his sanity longer, hoping for a way out for everyone.

Willpower is a crazy thing.

On the complete opposite note, I love you horrifying freak of ichor child.

Since Shimmer was made from the ichor itself with no sort of skeleton or solid foundation, her condition is very unstable. And the problem is that her body is affected by her emotions. On a bad day, she can suffer from lots of pain and her body literally melting away. That's when she hides out and waits for her body to stabilize again.

When she completely twists, her body completely falls apart, becoming a puddle of ichor on the ground. If she was an encounterable twisted, she would work like Sprout's puddle root things, but easier to maneuver around and avoid. Also, her antenna glow.

Mini yap session aside, I think I cooked on the art lol.

Anyways, the og images lol:

Have a good one pookies!

[dakusan]

Under the weather, under their care.

stray kids ot8 x reader | comfort, sick day fluff

🌙 synopsis: you’re sick. your head hurts, your throat’s sore, and your body feels like it’s made of led. lucky for you, the boys don’t take your sick days lightly. from dad-mode chan to chaotic nurse han, here’s how each member would react to you being under the weather.

💌 a/n: I made this upon request, @cybergracie, she's sick, I HOPE U GET WELL BESTIE 🥺. this is a fluff-heavy, comfort-core piece. each member is written with personality accuracy in mind—not just idealized bf fluff, but the actual way they’d show care in their own unique ways. also: please imagine han beatboxing your fever away. thanks. ps. reblogs = love

📍credits: @cafekitsune for the divider

🎶 Now Playing: "Still With You" — Jung Kook

Bang Chan // 방찬

The second he notices something off—your voice a little hoarse, your body a bit sluggish—he’s on it. Doesn’t matter how tired he is, he’s clocked it. You barely get a chance to brush it off before he’s already adjusting his schedule around you. If he's on tour or at the studio, he’ll be checking in constantly with messages like:

“Did you eat anything yet?” “Are you resting properly?” “Don't make me come home early, I will.”

When he is home, though? You’re not lifting a single finger. He’s all over the place—running to the pharmacy, heating soup, fluffing your pillows, and making sure you’ve got water within reach at all times. He’s quiet about it too, not making a big deal, just subtly doing what needs to be done because taking care of the people he loves is second nature to him.

You try to tell him you’re fine, and he just raises an eyebrow.

“You’re literally shivering. Don’t argue with me.”

He doesn't smother, but he's present. Keeps a calming hand on your back while you nap, plays soft music in the background to soothe your headache, and watches over you without making it feel overbearing. He reads the room well—gives you space when you need it, but never strays too far.

If you get emotional or frustrated about being sick, especially if it messes with your routine or makes you feel helpless, he gets it. His voice goes softer. He cups your cheek with a warm hand and murmurs:

“You don’t have to be strong right now, okay? Just rest. Let me take care of you for once.”

He will pull out the dreaded herbal stuff his mom used to make him drink when he was sick—“it tastes like sadness but it works”—and insists on staying up to monitor your fever, even if you beg him to sleep.

He keeps your hair out of your face, wipes your forehead with a cool cloth, and kisses your temple like it's instinct. Being with Chan when you're sick doesn't feel like being a burden—it feels like you're being wrapped in care, in love, in quiet devotion.

He won’t let you thank him too much either.

“You’d do the same for me. And besides, this just means I get extra cuddles when you’re better.”

Lee Know // 리노

He notices immediately. You don’t even have to say anything—just one look at your slightly pale face, the slower blink, the off rhythm of your breathing, and he’s narrowing his eyes like:

“You’re sick, aren’t you?”

When you try to deny it, he just stares you down until you give in with a sigh. You’d think he’d tease you, but no. Lee Know becomes uncharacteristically serious when it comes to your health.

He's not dramatic about it, but he’s efficient.

The moment you admit you’re not feeling well, he’s already on his phone checking what’s in the pantry, planning what you can eat, and quietly adjusting his day to make sure you’re not alone. He doesn’t announce it. He just does it.

He shows care through actions—not babying, but making sure you’re comfortable. Your favourite blanket suddenly appears around your shoulders. The heating pad is already plugged in. He hands you medicine without saying a word and watches to make sure you take it properly.

He cooks for you—but don’t expect anything fancy. You’re getting classic, warm, nourishing meals, exactly the kind of food that won’t upset your stomach. And yes, he’ll roast you a little:

“It tastes bland because you’re sick. What, you want Michelin-star when your nose is running?”

He absolutely will not cuddle you while you’re contagious. He’ll stay close, sure—sitting at the edge of the bed, folding laundry nearby, occasionally brushing his fingers through your hair with a sigh—but full-on snuggles? Nope. Not until your fever’s gone and you're cleared.

But he doesn’t leave the room either.

He stays just far enough to keep from catching whatever you have, but close enough to monitor you. He keeps one earbud in to give you peace but always pulls it out the second you shift or wince.

And when you wake up coughing at 3AM? He’s already by your side, handing you water before you can ask. His voice low and gentle, like:

“Don’t talk. Drink first. Breathe.”

If you start crying or feeling weak, that’s when he gets quiet. He won’t overwhelm you with comfort, but his gaze softens. He tucks you in tighter, hand lingering just a little longer against your forehead.

“You’re allowed to be sick. Stop trying to act like you're okay all the time.”

Later, when you’re getting better and a bit more dramatic than necessary (maybe asking him to fluff your pillow again), he smirks and rolls his eyes.

“You’re milking this. I know you.”

But he still does it. And when you're fully recovered, that's when the affection comes back in full—teasing kisses, long hugs, and a quiet,

“Don’t get sick again. I don’t like seeing you like that.”

(And maybe a whisper when he thinks you’re asleep:

“You scared me a little, you know.”)

Changbin // 창빈

The moment he finds out you’re sick, he goes from 0 to 100. Like, you text him “I think I caught something” and five minutes later he’s blowing up your phone with:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SOMETHING??” “How bad is it??” “Do you need me?? Should I come over?? I’m coming over.”

When he does show up, he’s carrying way too much. A full bag of random groceries, multiple drinks (some contradictory—like, why ginger ale and sports drinks and vitamin C packets?), tissues with lotion, and something pink and fluffy that you’re not even sure has a purpose.

And he's breathless, out of breath from rushing, still in his hoodie and slippers like he didn’t even stop to fully change.

“Okay—okay, first things first—do you have a fever? No, wait, let me check—no, you don’t check, I check—”

He's definitely the type to Google your symptoms while sitting next to you, holding your hand like you’re dying. You cough once and he’s already deep into “early signs of pneumonia” and quietly panicking.

But here’s the thing—under all that chaotic energy is someone who really, really cares.

He wipes down surfaces, makes you take medicine on time, and paces while you nap because he can’t sit still when you’re unwell. If you so much as shift in your sleep, he’s immediately next to you.

“Do you need something? Water? Blanket? Me? I mean—I’m here—just say the word.”

He tries to cook. Like really tries. Follows a recipe video step by step, but ends up making the kitchen look like a warzone. The food is edible, and honestly, it tastes way better than you expected—but it comes with a sheepish smile and a “Don’t die, okay? I put my soul in that rice.”

He’s the type to encourage you to laugh through the misery, even if he knows you feel like crap. He’ll pull out his silly voice impressions, make faces, or randomly do aegyo just to get a smile out of you.

And when you’re too tired to respond? He quiets down. Holds your hand gently. Tucks the blanket up to your chin and just stays close.

“Rest, jagi. I’ll stay right here. I promise.”

And if you thank him too much, he gets all bashful and dramatic again:

“Stop being cute when you’re sick! I’m trying to focus on taking care of you, not falling in love all over again!”

Hyunjin // 현진

When you tell Hyunjin you’re sick, he gasps like you just confessed a tragic secret.

“You’re what? Sick? You?!”

He's immediately distraught. Not because he doesn’t know what to do—he actually does—but because he hates seeing you like this. His empathy is through the roof. If you're miserable, he's basically miserable by osmosis.

He shows up in a long coat, scarf, and a tote bag full of oddly curated items: a sketchpad, multiple fancy drinks, a candle he claims will help “cleanse your aura,” and a tiny stuffed animal “to guard your bed.”

But once the theatrics die down, he’s incredibly gentle.

He speaks softly around you, like he’s scared to disturb your peace. Brushes your hair back from your face with his knuckles. Gets you tissues and cool compresses and rubs your back when you cough. He doesn’t make a fuss out of helping—you just look up and he’s already kneeling next to the bed, adjusting your blanket with care.

“I don’t like this. You should always be glowing. You’re supposed to be warm and smiley and annoying me with your weird jokes.”

He doesn’t necessarily cook full meals, but he’ll cut fruit for you like a seasoned Korean mom. Brings you sliced apples and pears with toothpicks and arranges them in little patterns. He lights the candle (of course he does) and hums softly while you rest.

And when you fall asleep, he doesn’t leave.

He curls up at the foot of the bed like a quiet cat, sketchbook in his lap, drawing you as you sleep—not in a weird way, just a soft “I want to remember you like this, even if you’re sick” way. His lines are delicate. Thoughtful. Honest.

If you start crying out of frustration or exhaustion, he immediately drops everything to cradle you, whispering into your hair:

“Hey. It’s okay. You don’t have to hold it in. Let me carry it for you.”

He’ll cry too, but quietly. Not to take the attention off you—just because it genuinely hurts to see someone he loves in pain.

And when you finally start to feel a bit better, he brightens like the sun peeking out after rain.

“You’re healing,” he says, brushing his knuckle under your eye, “and when you’re fully better, we’re going to go out and celebrate your immune system.”

Because of course he would.

Han // 한

Han freaks out immediately—but it’s not super helpful at first. You text him something simple like “I’m feeling kinda sick today,” and within ten minutes he’s calling you with a full-blown gasp:

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE DYING—okay no you’re not dying BUT LIKE—ARE YOU OKAY???”

He’s definitely pacing back and forth in his room, still in pyjamas, with a headband holding his hair back and zero plan on what to do. He panics first, then pulls himself together. His love language is chaos-then-action.

He shows up at your place with a bag that makes no sense: two different kinds of ramen, a random juice box, cough drops, chocolate, three stress balls (“in case you’re bored”), and a neck pillow. No medicine. No actual meals. Just vibes.

“Okay okay, hear me out—I panicked. But I brought snacks and love.”

Despite the scattered brain, he pulls it together when it really counts. He’s attentive. He’ll sit next to you while you rest and hold your hand loosely, thumb brushing over your knuckles. He won’t say anything for a while—just watches you with those big, warm eyes full of concern.

If you’re curled up and miserable, he’ll adjust the blanket for you and say in a surprisingly soft voice:

“I don’t like seeing you like this. I’d rather be sick instead.”

(He means it. But also, if he got sick, he'd be 10x more dramatic than you. Bedridden. Needy. Demanding forehead kisses every five minutes.)

He makes you laugh without even trying. The moment your fever breaks a little and you can sit up, he’s already putting on dumb videos, doing weird impressions of your doctor, or lip-syncing to ballads with way too much emotion.

He’ll also say stuff like:

“If you die, can I keep your hoodie collection? Not because I want them, just so no one else gets them.”

Followed by:

“Wait, no, don’t die. You’re the only person who laughs at my weird jokes.”

He’ll write you a freestyle rap while you nap. It’s bad. It’s so bad. But it’s from the heart. And you wake up to him beatboxing quietly next to you, working on rhymes like “She’s sick but she’s slick, with tissues so quick—uh, what rhymes with thermometer?”

And even if he makes light of it, he doesn’t leave. Not until you’ve eaten something. Not until you’re tucked in. Not until he’s made you laugh at least once.

“You’re not allowed to feel gross. You’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen—with or without the sniffles.”

Felix // 필릭스

Felix immediately switches into guardian angel mode the moment you tell him you're sick. His brows knit together with concern, and he softly goes:

“Oh no, darling… Are you okay? What hurts? What do you need?”

His voice somehow gets even softer than usual, and that’s saying a lot. He doesn’t waste time—he’s already got a mental checklist going. He shows up at your place like a quiet storm, arms full of carefully selected things: your favourite tea, fresh fruit, his cosiest hoodie (the one you steal all the time), and a little handwritten note that just says “rest well, lovebug 🤍” tucked into a book.

He moves around your space like he’s done this a thousand times. Lights a soft-scented candle. Makes you tea—ginger, lemon, honey, everything—and hands it to you with both hands like it’s sacred.

“Sip slowly, yeah? It’ll help your throat.”

He speaks in a hush, like he’s scared to be too loud and disturb you. But even more than that, he listens. He watches your cues. If you don’t feel like talking, he sits quietly and rubs your back in slow, rhythmic circles. If you’re cranky or frustrated with how you feel, he’s patient. He doesn’t dismiss it. Just murmurs,

“It’s okay to be upset. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

He won’t let you feel guilty for needing help. He doesn’t even think twice about it—it’s just natural to him to care for you. He’ll spoon-feed you porridge if you’re too weak to eat (with a soft, teasing “open up, baby~”), fluff your pillows, and offer to braid your hair to keep it out of your face if it’s long.

And when you’re really out of it, in that floaty feverish state? He hums lullabies to you. Soft, low, breathy melodies while running his fingers through your hair, grounding you like an anchor.

He’s physically affectionate but gentle—he won’t cling if you’re uncomfortable, but he’ll press a kiss to your forehead with reverence when your fever starts to come down.

“You’re getting better already. That’s my strong baby.”

When you start feeling a bit better and try to apologize for being so out of it, he just shakes his head and smiles that soft, dimpled smile:

“I’d take care of you a hundred more times if it meant I get to love you this much.”

Seungmin // 승민

You text him: “I think I’m getting sick.”

His reply:

“Wow. Weak.” “Do you want me to come over or are you going to survive this incredibly tragic cold on your own?”

He teases you endlessly, even when he’s already halfway out the door with a tote bag full of essentials. He’s not the kind to show up flustered or chaotic—he’s cool, collected, and annoyingly prepared. He stops by the pharmacy like it’s a casual errand, picks the right kind of medicine, and shows up at your place with soup containers labelled with the exact heating instructions.

“Because I know you’re going to ignore me when I leave. So I made it idiot-proof.”

Despite the constant roasting, he’s weirdly good at caretaking. Like, scary good. He’s probably done this for the other members a million times. He doesn’t hover, but he keeps you on schedule—meds on time, hydration checked, food warm. He sets timers on his phone like:

“Every 4 hours, you're drinking something. I don’t care if it’s water or juice. Just not coffee. Don’t test me.”

He definitely sits at the edge of your bed or couch with a mug in hand, watching you like a judgmental hawk while you eat something.

“Chew slower. You sound like a vacuum cleaner.”

He’ll bring over one of his own hoodies and act like it’s no big deal when you snuggle into it—but there’s a flicker of fondness in his eyes when you do.

If you’re really sick and end up crying or feeling gross, Seungmin’s whole vibe shifts. His voice softens. His teasing fades out, and he looks at you like you’re fragile—but never in a pitying way. Just... attentively.

“Hey. Don’t do that thing where you bottle everything up and pretend you’re okay. You're sick, not invincible.”

He sits beside you, holding your wrist gently and checking your pulse like he knows what he’s doing (and honestly? He kinda does).

When you’re asleep, he doesn’t leave right away. He stays long enough to make sure you’re breathing evenly, your fever’s down, and that your glass of water is full. He’ll tidy your space a little—nothing crazy, just enough so that you’ll wake up feeling a bit more at ease.

And if you ask him why he’s being so sweet the next day?

“Because I don’t want you to die. Who else would I bully?”

And then under his breath, as he's walking away:

“…Plus, I care about you. Obviously.”

I.N // 아이엔

Jeongin freezes when you tell him you’re sick. Like—deer in headlights, soul leaving his body—kind of freeze.

“You’re… sick?? What do I do?? What am I supposed to do?? Do I call Chan-hyung?? Is there a number for this??”

He genuinely panics at first, not because he doesn’t want to help, but because he doesn’t want to mess anything up. He’s never fully confident in these situations, but the second he realizes you need him, he pulls it together real fast.

He shows up at your door with the most random collection of items: yogurt (he read online it helps), a bag of cough drops (he bought 3 kinds just in case), a warm scarf (that he knitted, sob), and a tiny teddy bear he won at a claw machine a week ago.

“He’s here to keep you company when I can’t. Don’t get attached, though. He’s still mine.”

Once inside, he’s constantly checking with you—nervously, but sweetly.

“Do you want porridge? I can try making it… it might be weird though.” “Do you feel hot? Like fever hot, not hot-hot. Not that you’re not hot—okay never mind—”

He’s flustered. So flustered. But he puts 200% effort into everything. He follows tutorials to make you soup and burns his tongue taste-testing it (“worth it”), tries to fluff your pillows in just the right way, and keeps offering you water every ten minutes.

He might pace a bit when you're napping, muttering to himself like:

“Okay, don’t forget the medicine at 2. And check the temperature. And don’t forget to smile when she wakes up. But not creepy. Calm smile. Natural. Chill. I'm chill.”

If you’re too tired to talk, he’ll just sit nearby, playing quietly on his phone, occasionally peeking over to make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t leave until you force him to rest too. And even then, he sets an alarm so he can wake up and check your temperature in a few hours.

And when you’re finally feeling better, all the tension leaves his body in a big sigh of relief—and he gets shy.

“You’re okay now… That’s good. I didn’t really do much but… I’m glad I was here.”

Then adds with a soft, sheepish smile:

“Next time, let me take care of you before you pass out trying to act fine, okay?”

He’s your little protector in disguise—nervous, thoughtful, and quietly proud of himself for stepping up when it counted.

[heich0e]

"how's my favourite miya?"

osamu barks out a loud, dry laugh as the call connects and rintarou's face lights up the screen of his cellphone. he's got the device propped up against a prep container filled with spring onions on the kitchen counter of the shop. osamu points his knife, the blade just wiped on his apron and glinting under the overhead fluorescents, toward the camera.

"'tsumu told me ya say the same thing to him when yer askin' fer a favour, bastard. don't think yer slick."

suna smiles on the other end of the call. "dunno what you're talking about."

"ya fuckin ri—"

"hi miya-san!"

osamu is a bit taken aback when sunarin's little sister, yuriko, pops into frame over his friend's shoulder. the restaurant owner straightens up a little on instinct, setting his knife down.

"hi yuri-chan," he greets her politely, a bit sheepish at his lack of manners initially since he didn't know rintarou had company. "whatcha doin' there?"

"came to visit nii-san in nagano for the weekend," the twenty year old chirps cheerfully.

"she's eating me out of house and home, osamu," rintarou laments.

"got no sympathy for ya," osamu laughs. "last time ya came to visit me i had to buy twice as much rice as usual. blame yer genetics."

suna rolls his eyes but doesn't refute osamu's point. instead he carries the conversation along. "i didn't call to ask a favour, you know."

osamu wipes a cloth over his cutting board, nodding his head. "so ya said."

"she did, though."

osamu looks back up at the phone and sees both suna siblings looking at him with matching hopeful expressions—the same one that made him buy twice as much rice as usual with little-to-no complaint—and he just sighs, tossing his rag down on the worktop.

"whaddaya want?"

osamu's pretty well acquainted with osaka now, having spent the better part of his twenties living and working there. when the shop was still a bit smaller and closed in the afternoons before the dinner rush, he used to run delivery orders to offices and small catering gigs, which helped him get a feel for the city's layout too.

still, he's not familiar with this particular part of town. he double checks the address on the screen of his smart phone, then the one on the building in front of him. adjusting the paper takeout bag in his arms he punches a series of numbers into the intercom.

"hello?"

"i've got a food delivery here for apartment 615," osamu says, keeping his head bowed a little to the camera so his onigiri miya cap is on full display.

"... I didn't order anything, sorry."

osamu reads your name off the slip of paper stapled to the bag. "ordered by a suna yuriko?"

it's quiet for a moment, but osamu can tell from the static on the other end of the intercom that you're still listening. can still hear the faint sound of your sigh.

the door buzzes as it unlocks.

on his way up to the sixth floor, osamu reflects on his conversation with the youngest suna sibling.

she's my best friend, yuri-chan had said to him, her voice thick with emotion. she moved to osaka last year with her boyfriend but he's.... i'm worried about her. she hasn't answered me in days.

osamu had been resistant to the request at first. this seemed like a matter for police involvement, not an onigiri restaurant owner.

i just need to know she's okay, miya-san. please?

osamu would not consider himself a do-gooder. he's not particularly gallant or brave in any way. sure, he's happy to help out or be kind when he can, but he's no hero. the only real scraps he's ever gotten into are with his brother, after all, and those days are mostly behind him now that he's on the periphery of his thirties.

but there was something about the way yuri-chan had pleaded with him that had tugged on his heartstrings. something that made him feel inclined to act.

all he had to do was lay eyes on you. make sure you were where you were supposed to be and that you were okay. simple enough.

on the sixth floor of the unfamiliar apartment building, it doesn't take osamu long to find your unit door. osamu raps twice against it once he arrives, waiting patiently in view of the peep hole for you to answer.

"you can just leave it outside, please!" he hears you say from inside. your voice is close, like you're right there on the other side of the door.

"sorry miss, restaurant policy. the boss would be mad if i didn't hand it off to ya directly."

he is the boss, but you don't need to know that.

it's quiet for a moment, and then osamu hears a few locks click. he's relieved as the door begins to open.

the relief doesn't last.

you've got the door open only wide enough for the bag of onigiri to be passed through, half your face hidden on the other side. the half he can see though is swollen and bruised along the top of your cheek. behind you, osamu catches a glimpse of your apartment—turned practically upside down.

there's papers and various other things littered on the ground. a picture askew, and a mirror shattered on the wall beside it. osamu feels many things at once. concern, disbelief, anger.

he looks at you, and you stare back like a deer caught in the headlights, shrinking slightly under his stare. for a moment he's reminded of the stray cat he caught behind the restaurant a few years ago, stealing food out of the dumpster. remembers how mistrustfully it had stared at him when he first cornered it in the alley.

internally osamu is cursing the suna siblings, cursing whatever piece of shit did this to you, and cursing his own nature.

because osamu's no hero, but he can't turn his back on someone who needs help, either.

[dumbkid4ever]

It's Not Your Fault

Kinich x reader! In which:

Your boyfriend comes home from work and the first sentence he told you was "somebody kissed me today."

1,747 words 9,461 characters

It was almost midnight, the time your boyfriend told you he'd come home. Like many other times when he had to work till late, you sat on the couch with a lamp illuminating the book in your hands so that you can tell the letters apart. The plot wasn't particularly interesting, but the characters were relatable and pretty well written.

Just as you were getting to the climax of the story, you heard the sound of the door unlocking. Without hesitation, you put down your book (after placing a bookmark betweent the pages of course) and leaped towards the front entrance to welcome your beloved home. Barely did the door open when you had already thrown yourself at the figure before you.

"Honey! Welcome home," you grinned, nuzzling your cheek into the crook of his neck. Usually he would've greeted you back by now, but all you got was an arm weakly patting against your back. Noticing this, you stepped back to see what was up.

"Kinich? You alright?" you asked worriedly. His face was a few shades paler than you remember, his eyes didn't meet yours and he kept opening and closing his mouth. Something was clearly wrong.

After a while of silence, he seemed to have found his words again. Monotonously, he uttered the following words.

"Somebody kissed me today."

In an instant, it felt as if a cold bucket of water was dumped onto you, rendering you speechless for a moment. However, it wouldn't have mattered if you could speak or not, for he was not done yet.

"I made it clear that I had a lover already, but she didn't listen and while I was occupied with something else she just did it," he explained calmly and shortly. If you had not been with him for so long, you might've misunderstood his calm as apathy, his sparse amount of words as him trying to brush it off as nothing and his unwillingness to look at you as disrespect.

But you had been with him for this long. You knew that rather than being calm, it was him struggling to express his emotions, instead of trying to downplay the situation he was just being extra blunt under stress and it wasn't that he doesn't think you're not important enough to be looked at while talking, he just didn't know how to look at you anymore.

"I- I thought I'd tell you before any misunderstanding happens. I'm pretty sure there were no witnesses but just in case someone tries to tell you anything I wanted to tell you and well I... I..."

The panic he felt was evident to you. It's hard not to see with his eyes frantically darting from furniture to furniture, his hands clenching and unclenching again, his breath going in and out at a faster pace than the one that had the power to lull you to sleep. There came a point where you couldn't bear seeing him like this anymore.

"Kinich," you called out. He stopped every movement, so did his heart for a second. "Kinich, look at me."

Only then did he finally meet your gaze. Vibrant yellows, greens and a bit of orange. How you adored his eyes, even now as his pupils dilated and tears threatening to roll down his pretty face. Slowly, as to not scare him, you opened your arms invitingly.

Immediately he moved into the safety of your embrace, wrapping around you and burying his face into your shoulder. Not long after, you felt his body quiver as soft sniffles sounded next to your ear.

"It's alright. It's not your fault, so don't you worry. It's all gonna be fine," you whispered soothingly, hoping to relieve him of the burden as much as you can, even though you yourself weren't so thrilled to hear about it.

"But I-," he was interrupted by a rather quiet hiccup, a skill he mastered at 5, "I could've stopped it. It would've been so easy."

"Don't put the blame on yourself, you were doing something else, weren't you? She exploited that and did something you have made clear was taboo. You can't be at fault for this."

Although your words made sense to him logically, and he himself already knew this on his way back home, he couldn't convince his feelings that you were speaking the truth. They kept telling him that you were only saying this so that he'd calm down and let his guard down, so that you could leave while he was in a faux sense of safety. The mixture of shame, guilt and fear was crushing him.

He hated everything about the current situation, even the heat radiating off of you. He hated how weak he felt, how his emotions were so overwhelming, how his mind won't just accept the logical truth, how he dared to doubt your words, how he had the audacity to seek comfort in your embrace despite said doubts and what he had done.

Why were you being so lenient, why were you being gentle with him when he had betrayed you? What will be the price for this? Both the betrayal from his side and the leniency you showed meant that he was now indebted to you, by a lot in fact. How will this debt be payed? There was only one possibility in his mind and the thought of it sent whatever was left of his rationale went flying out the window.

The hold he had on you tightened. His fingers dug into the side of your arms, making you wince a bit but you didn't let go of him. Memories flashed before him, terror had his heart in a grip like it's trying to suffocate him and fear flooded his mind, drowning out all thoughts.

"Please, oh please don't..."

He let out a shaky breath.

"Please, don't leave me, I'll do whatever it takes to make up for it but please, I beg of you and I promise I'll be enough, I'll do enough, just please don't go away, I'll be good, really..."

The boy's rambling continued, repeating words like a prayer, but it was so quiet you barely heard him, despite your ear being right beside him. The speed at which the words spilled out of his mouth made the words even more intelligible, but you realized where his mind was at as soon as you understood "leave."

"Hey, hey, no. I'm not gonna leave you, you don't have to pay me anything. One only has to pay when they gain something in return, but you didn't gain anything from that kiss, right?"

Your voice cracked a bit at the end, the thought of Kinich liking the kiss of someone else stinged like a needle. To your slight reassurance, he nodded into your shoulder.

"Then you don't have to pay for anything. See? I'll stay, there's nowhere else I'd want to be more than with you, I'm not going anywhere."

"But I broke our promise and hurt your trust, I should compensate for it, I have to," he continued to argue, as if trying hard to not let you convince him.

"Nonsense, you didn't do anything to me, it was that... person, who did you wrong." As an attempt to ground him back into reality, you tangled your fingers into his hair and rubbed his scalp softly. That always calmed him down, and though this time was no exception, the effect was less than usual.

"The fact that I told you already counts as hurting you. I know you're hurt by this," he retorted, now less hysteric, and you knew that he wasn't all that wrong. But still, you continued talking him out of his worries.

"A misunderstanding would've done more damage to me, telling me right away was the safest option and the one with the least damage potential. You made the choice that has the least cons for me."

Finally, he had nothing to argue with and the room fell still. Talking about pros and cons of choices may seem odd, and you would've found it very odd, had you heard this conversation a few years ago, but throughout your time together you had learnt that this was just the way Kinich was able to receive comfort. He couldn't accept simple, genuine things in relationships without paying something back, that was just what he had learnt from his childhood. Nothing comes without a price, so when someone claims something to be free, he can only face it with suspicion and disbelief.

"I won't leave you, ever. You're the only I love, the only one I trust so much and I know you only have my best interests in mind. Just your existence is enough and what you do for me, well it's more than I could ever hope to receive from a person," you spoke with a hushed tone and stepped away from the hug. The corners of his eyes were reddened and a bit of snot ran down his nose, but he looked as beautiful as ever. Delicately, you took both his hands and entertwined his slender digits in your own.

"There are more reasons to stay with you than I can count on both our fingers, you know? In contrast, I see none why I should leave. Well, aside from Ajaw, he's the only thing tainting my time with you. On the other hand though, I must say, seeing you bicker is quite entertaining," you laughed light-heartedly. To that, he smiled a little.

"Thank you," he murmured and leaned in for a kiss, one you gently returned. It didn't last very long, nor was it particularly passionate, but it expressed everything he wanted to tell you and you understood everything that he said.

"Should we go to sleep now? I'm sure you're tired from all the work. Come on, go get yourself ready for bed, I'll be waiting," you urged him, getting a hum of agreement in return. Content with that, you went to fetch your book, that was still on the couch, and stepped towards your shared bedroom.

Not long after, Kinich entered the room as well, still rubbing his hair with a towel. You were already under the blanket, watching him change into his pajamas and eventually lay down beside you. Wordlessly, he slid his limbs around your midrift and you cradled his head, which was pressed up against your chest. Your legs tangled together until neither of you knew where he started and where you ended. At last you peacefully drifted to sleep, aware that the other is always beside you.

Legit woke up in the middle of the night to write this, knowing full well I had school the next day, all because the idea came to me. Well anyways hope you enjoyed and have a pleasant day or night.

[thebluediner]

a/n: I'm gifting you this in the mean time

JEALOUSY JEALOUSY

there she goes getting jealous again. you didn't what the fuck was up with billie these past couple of weeks but she was getting anxious and agitated by people who are around you a lot.

it started at her albumn listening event. you were in the vip section and a couple of her influencer friends we're bundled up around you and you guess one of them got too close and she saw the whole thing.

then, next time it was at the grocery store when you both decided to go in but billie , who wanted to be extra careful ,wore a full incognito fit. when you reached the cashier they unfortunately started flirted, asking basic questions like what's your name , age, are you single and all that shit ,which she shut down by pulling you close by the waist before handing over her black card to pay.

the other time was when a delivery guy came to deliver a couple of boxes over to your house. the awfully old man complimented whatever you were wearing and wished you a beautiful day and of-course billie heard all of it since she was a couple of feet away ,in your kitchen.

now you're at an after party together well until she departs to greet a few of her past friends. the moment she left some guy, probably a producer, took it to his advantage to approach you. you looked at him like he was dumb whilst he raved on about whatever his job was ,how rich he is and how he could afford you. before you could even stand up for yourself billie came in pretty quickly between y'all giving you a kiss totally shoving the other guy off to god knows where.

but, when her lips left yours you could see it in her eyes she wasn't happy at all. her eyes raked over your body with confliction of emotions.

"should I fuck you so good and mark you up all over for people to not try ?" she asks in a way she didn't need an answer she already made up her mind.

and that's how you ended up in her car with the seats pushed back with you on straddling her lap. your legs were parted to settle on her perfectly while her mouth attacked your neck with purple marks and bites that wanted to be seen and appreciated the next day.

your whines and groans were loud with no shame. your body leaned into billie wanting her every fiber on you. her kisses sloppy and gnawing didn't stop on your neck but travelled lower to your chest marking you well enough to even brand you at this point.

her hands groped your breasts through the fabric of your dress tracing your figure down to you panties. her hands travelled underneath your dress cupping your pussy making you gasp at her action.

"who does this pussy belong to mmh?" her raspy voice questions expecting an answer.

"you, it belongs to you " you call out your head tilting to the side your need for her clouding any critical thinking.

''doesn't feel like it these days though princess'' billie pouted her eyes searching for yours. she was a menace you thought how could she say that like her fingers weren't slipping in your folds.

''uh...i'm sorry'' you managed to get out with your back arching towards her. you felt her fingers swim in you before she inserts one finger then another causing a pornographic cry to escape your lips.

''what are apologising for mama mmh .it isn't your fault that you're so sexy is it?'' billie's silky voice asks you with innocence draped all over it like she wasn't going to start pumping her fingers in you.

you shriek upon the unexpected wave of pleasure making you whip your head back as your hand tries to find anything to hold onto. billie's free hand wraps around your waist as support bringing you closer to her.

''tell me i'm the only one that matters'' billie instructs her eyes glued to yours, the ones you could barely keep open with all the stimulation you're experiencing.

''y-you're...the only one... baby please'' you string out regardless of the struggle. billie's hands were curled inside of you rubbing just the right spaces.

''tell me nobody fucks you like me '' billie commands once again biting her lip with her brows furrowed focusing on pleasing you

'' nobody... does bil...faster please '' you manage to get out. your body unconsciously bouncing on her fingers trying to ride them and get as much stimulation you can.

'' you're so fucking hot baby ugh should've fucked you in-front of all them '' another string of whines slip out from you at her dirty words.

you were so close she could feel it. you walls started getting tighter around her fingers making it harder for her to reach deeper but your pussy made such unholy sounds, she loved it.

''i'm gonna cum baby .fuck fuck fuck'' you told her your voice getting higher with every word so when the orgasm finally hitted you screamed letting your head hide in billie's neck. your sounds got muffled against her skin leaving you dizzy for a couple of seconds with your thighs trembling as the aftermath.

'' wanna fuck you better when we get home'' billie tells you while she leaves soft kisses on your shoulder.

[ghoulishhx]

been thinking about frank with a reader whos a switch… like sometimes she needs to be taken care of and sometimes she just wants to fuck the living daylights out of him- poor guy would get emotional whiplash but would be too turned on to complain

I had to write on this pretty much the second the request came through because me as fuck. need more switch representation in frank fics/drabbles honestly!! this is a mixture of a headcanon/drabble, idk i got too excited to write this LOL

18+ MDNI below the cut :3

Frank Castle x Switch!Reader

so i picture it like this. one minute you're bent over, ass high as your face is smushed into the pillow, franks hand wrapped around the back of your neck whispering the most sinful, dirty things

"that feel good baby? you're so fuckin' tight princess, made to take my cock shit... my dirty fuckin' girl"

he would growl into your ear, making you a whining mess, incoherently begging him for more.

he slams impossibly harder into you with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against each other fills the room as a hand lands on the flesh of your ass with a harsh smack.

you're so unbelievably cockdrunk you don't recognise it as pain, only sending pleasure through your body like a jolt of electricity.

"that's it babydoll, cum for me. my good girl, all mine." primal possession takes over him as he continues ruining you. moans and whines leave your mouth along with his name and a string of curse words as you milk him dry, orgasming so hard around his cock. you loved being used by him, you loved being his to devour.

the next moment you're on top of him, riding him with one of your soft hands wrapped around his neck, taking complete control of all the movement, all the pleasure.

I believe frank does not have the ability to fully let go and let you go hard dom on him, but he loves you more than anything and if his sweet girl wants to use him, he'd be damned if he didn't give her what she wants.

"fuck frank, being so good f'me. filling me up so well." you whine, tightening your grip around his neck as you grind your hips harshly against his, he can't help but whimper at the sensation of your walls throbbing around his length, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he grips your hips so intensely you're for sure gonna be bruised in the morning.

"mhm sweet girl, take what ya need. 'm all yours princess fuck, i belong to you." he babbles as you giggle, relishing in the way your boyfriend has come so undone for you, allowing you to explore the more dominant side of you. he was too fucked out to even care about how he sounded, too drunk off of your voice, touch, body.

you hum appreciatively, addicted to the way his cock twitches inside of you, the way his moans hitch in his throat as his jaw ticks. you could tell he was getting close.

"gonna cum for me frankie? fill up my pretty pussy huh? make me yours baby." you coo, guiding him through his release as he paints your insides white with his seed. the noises that erupt from him sends another orgasm barrelling through you, joining him in ecstacy.

"that's it baby, good boy. such a good boy for me." you test the waters as you reach down, plunging your fingers into your spent core, collecting your shared juices along your digits. removing them from your cunt, you thrust them into his mouth. he doesn't think, he instantly starts lapping up the juices, tongue swirling around your fingers, sucking them dry. your clit throbs at the view beneath you, Frank fucking Castle being so fucked out of it that he's wrapped around your finger, literally.

ARGHHHH I NEEEEEED HIMMMM

a/n: I hope this is ok pookie, it's very self indulgent because I would do anything to have this. I'd be more than happy to write more stuff like this, switch reader x frank is everything to me

ok mwah you know the drill

My Masterlist!

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my inbox is open!

[fawnnlvr]

sixth shot | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid × fem!bau!reader

masterlist

summary: after each alcoholic shot, you go through drunk phases that the bau have documented, but out of all the times you all have gone out drinking, they never know what happens if you take a sixth shot.

word count: 2.3k

inspiration: that one scene in brooklyn 99 where the others try to see what happens to my queen amy santiago.

content warning: alcohol use. cringe. first time writing a spencer reid fic. maybe a part 2 because the ending has a lot of loose ends.

author's note: i just started watching criminal minds maybe last week. i just finished s1 and i have been nonstop writing fic ideas and this one stuck with me so enjoy my lovebugs. i steered off track as i wrote this so it's a bit of a mess but :3 also, throughout this entire fic, i think you'll be able to tell that i have never really gotten drunk in my life. only half a soju bottle and a bit of my dignity ꪆৎ

Working as an agent at the BAU means that the people you work with are the people you spend most of your life with. Solving cases and locking away criminals is what you bond over and this cones with being with each other through the highs and lows. These nights were one of the highs. After solving a long case, Rossi had made plans for everybody to head back to his place to celebrate over drinks.

You expected the night to be filled with fun and love, but this was the BAU, nothing could ever be great without an underlying evil that preyed on one's downfall. This underlying evil just so happened to be some of your closest friends and coworkers. Well, all of them. As you prepared and got ready for a night of what you think to be fun, you didn't expect people you considered family to be plotting against you.

"What do you guys think will happen?" Penelope asked her phone, an eager smile detected through her tone. She was currently on a five way call with Spencer, Morgan, JJ, and Emily.

"I think after her fifth shot, little miss princess will start doing backflips." Morgan put in his bet.

"I think it'll be too much for her and she'll throw up on Rossi's carpet." JJ guessed

"What are we even talking about?" Emily asked, confused as to what they were talking about and that's when she heard Penelope gasp.

"Right! Prentiss doesn't know about her drinking phases. Spencer, go explain it!" Penelope eagerly ordered.

"I-I don't know. This feels kind of wro-"

"Do it!" Penelope interrupted.

"Fine. When [Name] starts drinking, she has these phases after every shot. After her first shot, she can't seem to stop laughing and will simply laugh at anything around her for no apparent reason. On her second shot, she is wandering the place. She can't stay still. On her third shot, she's dancing-"

"We once found her dancing with this elderly woman who was busting it down on the dance floor." Morgan laughed. "She even pulled Spencer out on the dance floor when we went to the club."

Spencer blushed at the reminder before continuing, "On her fourth shot, she's crying. She gets really emotional and it doesn't seem like anybody can stop her from crying unless you give her another shot and by her fifth shot, she's back to dancing."

"Which leads us back to our hypothesis." JJ explained, "What happens to our dear little agent once she has her sixth shot."

"And this is the perfect time to test it out." Penelope explained.

The BAU house party at Rossi's was nice in your opinion. He made his delicious Italian dishes and brought out the alcohol. Morgan and Penelope were sweet enough to bring their own alcohol too and offered you a lot. If only you could've seen the evil smirks of those who handed you each shot.

Spencer watched from afar as you were being handed shots and happily accepting them. He planned on staying to the sides and watching over you, making sure you didn't get hurt, but that soon changed when Morgan offered him a shot in the shape or a chemical tube and he couldn't resist the creative packaging.

You were now on your third shot. Spencer knew this due to your little robot dance by the beat-box with JJ who matched your energy. It was a funny sight to see; however, that smile quickly dropped when you made eye contact with him and walked towards him with a mischievous smile. You stopped about two meters away from him and imitated the moves of a fisher casting his line. He rolled his eyes at your attempt to make him do the stupid dance move. The goofy smile on your face as you starting to roll the fishing line towards him, and your encouraging nod made it difficult to resist you.

He wanted to say he didn't succumb to your odd ways but he did as he jumped your way. Yes, he knows he looked stupid but all he could focus on was your proud smile as soon as he reached you.

He had wished that moment lasted a little longer but Morgan came around with another round of shots and happily gave it to you. Spencer said that he wasn't interested and tried to get you to do the same but you didn't, instead it backfired on him.

"Oooo, more for me then. Double!" You grabbed both shots.

"I don't think that's a good i-" You already downed them before Spencer could finish those words and you felt a bit dizzy from the disgusting taste it left in your mouth. This would technically be considered your fifth shot but you've never taken a double before and Spencer supposed it would have the same effect as if taken separately, but your reaction proved otherwise.

You should be back on the dancefloor once the alcohol set it, but Spencer brought you to on of Rossi's kitchen island stools to sit down. He spotted Derek, Penelope, JJ and Emily both staring at them with hawk eyes, knowing they are one shot away from finding out what happens on her sixth shot. Spencer shook his head at their antics and looked back at you to find... that you were nowhere to be seen.

There you stood with Rossi, trying to imitated a traditional dance he was teaching. Italian music played in the background as Rossi showed you how he dances. You were smiley and asked if you did it right and he nodded and encouraged the others to join. Oh wow, you were a stealthy little handful. Spencer sighed in relief as he saw you felt a little better.

Spencer Reid had many degrees and phds but none of them could really tell him the phenomenon behind your drunk phases. It worried him what would happen next. Sure your first five stages were nothing terrible, it was all in good fun except for your emotional crying stage. However, what if you have your sixth shot and it pushes you over the limit and you end up throwing up or passing out. He wasn't sure if he wanted to find out, especially since you never had any more shots after your fifth since you were so tired of dancing and talking that you declined any more.

All the other times you and him have gone out drinking, you normally ended up in a secluded area in the bar and drank some water or ordered some bar food and waited to sober up a little bit. Spencer never tried offering you another drink but Derek has and youd always decline. Sure, he too was curious, but if you had a reason to abstain then you had a reason and he didn't want to push it.

You had always known what would happen after your fifth shot. It was not cute. Well, to you it wasn't, but to the group of friends you hung out with as soon as you turned 21, it was. Drinking more than five shots was not in your best interest, especially being at a party with your colleagues and boss. It didn't matter how drunk they were, you didn't want to risk it because you knew how you'd get.

Despite being five shots in, you still had some sense of sobriety and knew how to decline drinks. But that double took its tow on you, and who could decline another shot being offered by the cute little Penelope. As you sat on the couch, exhausted from dancing with Rossi, you simply watched the moving pictures on the television with a slightly entertained smile. Hotch was on the singular person holding couch while you took the bigger one. He eyed you weirdly as you chuckled at the screen static.

That was when Penelope sat down with a shot glass you couldn't resist. She told you she bought edible glitter and ordered a special shot glass with a Persian cat printed on it. You gasped at the sight as Penelope gave you such a nice gift.

"You're a sweetheart Penelope. Thank you!" You genuinely said, warmed at her kindness. She told you it was no problem at all and told you she'll be over with Derek if she needed anything. You nodded and admired the pretty shot glass before taking it and setting it down with a content smile.

"Mission accomolished." Penelope smiled as she high-fived Derek and JJ while Emily stood beside them, watching. Spencer shook his head from beside Penelope.

"What's wrong pretty boy?" Morgan asked.

"I'm going to give her some water. She might throw up or something."

"Relax, she's only on her sixth shot. Alcohol posoining from vodka takes like what, 13-16." Morgan stated.

"That only applies to males over 160 pounds which she is neither. With her height and estimated weight, she's about two shots from trouble and we don't know how she'll react." Spencer stated and grabbed a closed water bottle before walking it over to you.

JJ leaned closer to the three, "Do you think Spencer can see how much he cares for her?"

"Pretty boy has had his eyes set on her since the moment she walked in." Morgan chuckled. "It's only about time."

Derek stared at Penelope who had an evil smirk.

"What's going on?" Emily asked, very confused. It seems like she missed something.

"You'll see." JJ smiled and gestured back over to the couch.

Penelope was like a bubble. She floated around person to person and everybody loved how innocent and non-deceiving she seemed, but she likes to have her fun too. People often confided in her and that's how she learns many of the agents' secret. Secrets they don't think is anything worthwhile, but to Penelope, she just hit the jackpot. You see, Penelope has always known what happens when you little miss princess drinks her sixth shot. She always has ever since she walked you home one day from a night of drinking and you confessed that you didn't want to drink anymore because of one thing...

You get embarrassingly clingy.

"Hey. I got you some water." Spencer sat down right beside you and opened the water bottle, handing it to you.

You took your eyes off the screen and melted into a smile as you saw him in arm's distance. "Doctor Spencer!" You opened your arms and gently wrapped them around his neck, lifting just slightly from the couch to match the height.

"W-What?" He stuttered as he made sure the water didn't spill on you. His arms were flared out, not wanting to touch you while you were in an intoxicated state. He could smell the perfume you sprayed on your hair and neck hours ago and the fragrant filled his brain. You pulled away with the same dopey smile and held eye contact with him.

Your body was fully turned towards him; your leg closest to him was bent and placed on the couch so you could fully face him. Your hand rested on his knee, "I feel like you've been gone forever."

You repositioned yourself and scooted closer to Spencer who was now stuck between you and the couch arm. He had already closed the water bottle at this point and dropped it on the carpeted floor. You ignored the small thud and wrapped your arms around his and rested your head on his arm. He felt you melt into his arm and simply relax in his presence.

He was frozen. He couldn't move. It was as if he stared into Medusa's eyes and became a stone statue. He couldn't even move his eyes to see the reactions of the ones that organized it.

"This feels nice." You dreamily sighed and Spencer could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. He kept his hands to his sides, avoiding touching you.

"I-I should go." He managed to utter out, but he couldnt escape your grip.

"Why? Do you hate me?" You asked, looking up at him with a small frown and furrowed eyebrows.

"N-No! Of course not." He eeped in a high pitch voice as he felt you intertwine your hand with his.

"Then don't go. Don't leave me." You smiled as you felt him settle back in his seat.

Spencer frantically looked at somebody for help but found everybody paying no attention and giving them their space. Hotch was on call with his wife and brushdd off his eyes that screamed S.O.S and those who set this up were innocently eating dessert in the kitchen. It didn't take a genius profiler to know that he, Spencer Reid, had been played. So Spencer accepted his fate.

It wasn't a bad fate to accept. He looked at the woman on his arm and felt himself sink into the cushions of the couch. This wasn't too bad. He looked down at you as soon as you looked up at him. You smiled and he reciprocated it.

"Hug me." You ordered. It was a soft order. A small command that barely escaped your lips. Who was he to deny a small action that would've made you smile even more.

He carefully moved his hand that you held onto and brought it around your shoulder. You wasted no time to connect your hands back together and mindlessly played with his fingers.

You weren't sure how you got back home. You were on your bed, still in the clothes you wore the night before but in a cardigan you remember all too well. As the memories of last night slowly re-entered your mind, you didn't what any normal person would've done and screamed in horror.

Penelope, who was sleeping on the other side of the bed, immediately shot up in fear. "What happened?!"

"My life is over." You cried out, dramatically falling into your pillow and hiding your face with your hands before you came to a realization. "You planned that didn't you? I should've known something was up when you decorated that last shot so beautifully that I had no choice but to drink it and reveal the most embarassing part of my drunk stage."

"I'm sorry honey but at least you were the little cutey you always are." Penelope said, thankful that you werent getting murdered and was just embarassed.

"What happened after that last shot?" You were scared to hear the answer and Penelope's answer reinforced that notion. With each action she listed, you felt yourself getting ready to jump out the window from the third story of your apartment building. "I can never face Spencer again. I need to change my identity and- and - and leave."

Apparently after your little stunt on the couch, you refused to let go of Spencer, even when it wss time to go. You only let go of him when you saw Penelope. You threw your arms around her and gave her a hug as well, then went down the line. Penelope got ready to walk you home since you planned in a sleepover afterwards, but apparently, you threw yourself back on Spencer when he tried leaving too soon. You don't even want to try and remember what happened after that.

A whole mess. A whole mess that you created with the terrible influence of Penelope and those she employed in her little act. A mess that you would need to face and deal with. Oh the stress.

You buried your head in your pillow and tried to forget reality. This was a nightmare.

[jillgirlfriends]

Is my girl upset with me?

you are offended by them, and they are trying to make amends to you

pairing: billy loomis, jill roberts, charlie walker, ethan landry x fem!reader

warnin: offended!reader there may be something obscene, murder, some naughty

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ BILLY LOOMIS

you are so tired of your fights with him. billy was a wonderful boyfriend, you loved him very much.. with all your heart, but you are very annoyed that lately he just leaves you in the middle of your date with him. this is already the fifth time in a week, you finally could not stand it, splashed out all your emotions on your boyfriend and you both quarreled, because of which you became even more offended at him and decided to ignore

If only you knew that your boyfriend is actually a murderer and leaves your dates because of the stupidity of his idiot partner. but billy won't be able to admit it to you.

when he is completely calm, he will follow you around all the time trying to get your attention.

billy will always pay attention to you and show you his rare tender side that only you know about. he wants to spend all his time with you, but he can't because of his.. affairs.

billy will pull you to himself, hugging your waist and saying tender and sincere compliments kissing your neck. and in the end, you will forgive him.. because you can't be offended by your beloved boyfriend for so long. especially being offended by such a hot guy is a crime

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ JILL ROBERTS

it's all that damn trevor's fault. he deliberately want broke you up with your girlfriend by telling you all sorts of nonsense right in front of jill. he said that she was a very possessive and toxic person and that you should break up with her. you were already very tired after school that day and you just didn't understand what was going on and... you believed that idiot and ran away without saying anything, unable to handle it all. your brain just didn't work because of all the fatigue. fucking trevor wanted to ruin jill's relationship with you in this way because jill broke up with him

jill was so furious, she just froze and glared at trevor with the darkest, most gloomy gaze, thinking about how she would finish him. her hands clenched into fists and her eyes seemed to turn black.

oh.. trevor doesn't realize how much danger he's in when he calls jill

first, jill will come to her senses and calm down properly and will think over her plan in her room, and walk back and forth like an embittered paranoid. now on her mind:

1 ruin trevor's life and kill him for good

2 get her lovely girlfriend back

jill single-handedly sent information about trevor throughout the school and even made everyone think that he was the real ghostface.

she invited trevor to her house when her mother was away, jill made trevor think that she wanted to get their relationship back.. but it was not so. she killed him, and then wounded herself on purpose so that everyone would think that he broke into her house and tried to kill her, but she was able to fight him off and as a result, jill achieved two main goals at once. killing trevor. check. becoming famous. check. she was that fake final girl.

you yourself immediately rushed to the hospital to your girlfriend, completely forgetting about the quarrel, and pounced on jill with strong hugs. you were so worried about her.

thus, jill was able to make peace with you and achieve her goals, because she doesn't trust anyone alone

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CHARLIE WALKER

kirby. that name alone makes you so mad. kirby started flirting with your boyfriend right in front of you, and charlie.. he was so slow and didn't know what to do, he didn't reject her at all. of course he didn't let her do physical things to him.. but, he responded to her compliments and then you just exploded. 4 years. 4 fucking years, she ignored him and when he started dating you, she immediately started paying attention to him? what the hell. you got so mad and then yelled at charlie, giving him a choice.

«me or kirby, the choice is yours» - the last thing you said to your boyfriend and walked past him, brushing against his shoulder. before that, charlie felt your anger..

charlie was confused and he was... honestly, even scared. he didn't want to lose you. that day when you poured out all your anger on him, he was in a strong panic and even cried at night, not knowing what to do.

the guy himself doesn't know why he let kirby flirt with him, maybe because he liked all this attention? or he still hasn't fallen out of love with her? no.. no, he has you.

as a result, charlie, out of despair and not knowing what to do... took a knife and put on that same robe and suit and went to the kirby house. he realized that you are more important to him and he loves only you.

the next day, the guy apologized to you. he was ready to kneel in front of you or even kiss your feet, just so that you would forgive him. you forgave him and apologized for your anger at him, and after that you both shared a tender kiss with each other

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ETHAN LANDRY

ethan honestly.. was such a slowpoke in the relationship, you understand that he is just shy and all that.. but, damn. when you want to hug him or kiss him, he always gets embarrassed and "pushes" you away, the most you always do.. is hold hands, yes, you understand that he needs time.. but, damn. it's been 3 months since your relationship! you just started to get irritated by all this, ethan was such a sissy that you just didn't want to see him or talk to him.

you ignored him and when ethan wanted to take your hand as always, you walked past him and didn't even look at him, completely ignoring him

ethan felt hurt that you ignored him, but... he couldn't find the courage to talk to you about it, so he followed you around like a kitten.

he tried for a long time to understand why you were offended by him, he asked his child for help and even asked him for advice, to which he received the answer: "I don't know, dude" and ethan was in despair and walked sadly around you for days

as a result, with the chad's help, ethan plucked up courage and apologized to you. you in turn, naturally forgave him because you missed him and it was painful for you to look at his sad face and without his asking pulled him to you for a kiss, to which he was surprised but timidly reciprocated the kiss

[sai-int]

hello! i was wondering if you could either write about mainly soap (or the whole TF-141) finding out you’re pregnant and what they would be like all throughout the 9 months. It could either be head cannons or a fic, whatever you prefer 🤗

i tried to find fics about it but i can find barely any 😞

i tried to fight the poly!141 x reader demons, but i couldn't

cw: poly!141 x reader, pregnancy stuff, implied fem/afab!reader, (use of mom), no, it doesn't matter who's kid it is.

finding out....

johnny is the first to react when you tell them the news. he's stunned silent for a split second before breaking into a wide grin and laughing. “we’re havin’ a bairn?” he pulls you into his arms, twirling you around despite your protests. “this is amazin’! we're gonna be parents!”

he's immediately excited, though slightly panicked. “wait…what do we need tae do? do we start buyin’ things? are we ready for this?” he's practically already nesting.

simon doesn’t say much at first. his gaze shifts between you and the others before he lets out a quiet, “well, that’s somethin' new."

in truth, he didn't know how to handle this information. his trauma left him scarred and terrified of the idea of parenting, but after some thought, he’ll find you alone and murmur, “y'gonna be great at this, lovie. we all will.” It’s one of the rare times he lets his emotions show.

kyle reacts with a mix of shock and excitement. “wait, wait—are we serious? this is real?” when you nod, he breaks into a wide smile, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“this is amazing. you're gonna be a great mom, doll. we'll figure it out together.”

john's reaction is steady but warm. he gives you a soft smile and kisses the top of your head. “looks like our family’s getting a little bigger.”

he's calm and reassuring, already thinking about what this means for the team and how they’ll support you in the months ahead.

first trimester...

johnny's bouncing off the walls, thrilled about the news but hilariously overprotective. he refuses to let you lift anything heavier than a water bottle and constantly asks how you’re feeling.

“ye need anythin’? a pillow? water? more snacks?” you'll have to reassure him a hundred times a day that you’re fine.

he's also immediately obsessed with baby gear, sending you links to cribs, strollers, and onesies with ridiculous captions like, “look at this wee one—it’s got ducks on it!”

simon is less overtly excited but becomes quietly attentive. he starts keeping track of your cravings and your mood swings, making sure the others don’t overwhelm you too much.

if you’re feeling nauseous, he’ll silently sit with you, rubbing small circles on your back. he's not one for grand gestures, but his steady presence is comforting.

he's also the one who subtly puts his foot down when johnny starts suggesting that the kid'll be named “soap junior.”

kyle is practical but sweet, always checking in with you and making sure you’re eating enough. “don't forget to take your vitamins. and let me know if you need me to grab anything.”

he's fascinated by the changes in your body, always asking questions. “is it weird? like, do you feel different already?” he's genuinely curious and wants to understand every part of the process. not to mention the fact this his eyes refuse to leave your stomach once you start showing.

john keeps the everyone grounded. when the others (cough—johnny—cough) start fussing too much, he steps in. “give her some space. she's not made of glass.”

second trimester...

by now, johnny's even more excited, especially when the baby starts moving. he insists on feeling every kick and might even get a little competitive with the others. “aye, th' bairn kicked fur me first, didn’t it?”

he starts talking to your belly in gaelic. no one knows that he's saying but kyle has a hunch that he's praying.

simon is more engaged now, though still subtle. he'll casually start doing the more practical things like baby-proofing or arranging for a larger living space.

he secretly reads up on pregnancy and parenthood, though he’ll never admit it. you catch him once, and he grumbles, “just making sure we’re prepared.” but you know it's for his own sake.

kyle takes the role of “baby planner” seriously, organizing everything from nursery ideas to potential schedules for when the baby arrives. he's also the one to encourage you to take care of yourself.

“you're doing amazing, love. just let us handle the rest, yeah?” he's always ready with a shoulder rub or a cup of tea when you need it.

john really begins to hone his 'dad energy'. he ensures you’re not overexerting yourself and keeps everyone focused. he starts sharing stories about his own experiences with kids, whether it’s nieces, nephews, or friends’ children, to reassure you. he holds your hand on the days when you're feeling a bit off, offering a warm embrace for you to melt in.

third trimester...

johnny is on defcon 1. he's counting down the seconds and trying to distract himself with building the crib (badly) and then taking it down, just to reassemble it. or assembling strollers. “don't worry, love, i've got this… where’s the instruction manual?”

he's constantly doting on you, rubbing your calves and back or carrying things for you. “you're a goddess, y’know that? absolutely goddess.”

simon becomes even more protective. the parenthood book he'd been reading mentioned having a mhospital bag' for when the time comes. when your third trimester comes, he's prepping, making sure a bag is packed and everything’s ready to go when the time comes. “better t'be prepared than scramblin' last minute.”

kyle is the calmest of the bunch, which makes him your go-to when you’re feeling overwhelmed. he's always ready to lend an ear or a helping hand.

"you're not doing this alone.” he'd mumble to you while drawing soft circles on your skin. his steady reassurance keeps everyone else from spiraling into chaos, as well.

d-day...

it starts with you waking up in the middle of the night, a sharp cramp making you wince. you sit up, trying to brush it off, but another contraction hits, and it’s unmistakable: the baby is coming.

johnny is the first one you wake up. he's immediately wide-eyed and panicking. “wait, this is it? this is actually it?” he's scrambling to find his boots, yelling down the hall for the others, and tripping over his own feet in his rush.

simon appears a moment later, calm but laser-focused. “time the contractions,” he says, already grabbing the hospital bag he prepared weeks ago. he gently helps you to your feet, his hand steady on your lower back to support you.

kyle's ushering you to sit down (as simon tries to shove him off) and asking practical questions. “how far apart are they? are you feeling okay? deep breaths, love.” he's already calling ahead to the hospital to let them know you’re on your way.

john takes charge of the logistics. he's already in the car and heating it up. “let's move, lads. we're trained for chaos; this is no different.” his voice is firm, but his eyes are filled with concern as he checks on you.

the ride is chaotic, to say the least. johnny insists on sitting in the backseat with you, holding your hand and offering completely and entirely unhelpful but enthusiastic encouragement.

"you’re doin’ amazing, lass. just breathe! In and out, aye? we're almost there!”

"i'm going into labor, i didn't forget how to fucking breathe, johnny!" this is starting to feel like the worst period cramps of your life.

kyle is the one actually timing your contractions and giving johnny side-eyes every time he gets too loud. “you're not the one in labor, soap. chill.”

under any other circumstance, simon would not be allowed to drive. not even around the block. tonight though? he drives like a man on a mission. he's cutting through traffic like a getaway driver with 50k in the trunk. he barely says a word nd his jaw is clenched tight, his knuckles are white on the wheel. when you let out a particularly loud groan, he mutters, “we're almost there. hang on.”

john rides shotgun, barking out directions to simon and giving you steady updates. “you're doing great, dove. just focus on breathing. we'll be there in five.”

the team storms the hospital like it's a raid. john carries you inside while johnny frantically explains to the nurses, barely coherent in his excitement. “she's havin’ th' bairn! right now!”

when they wheel you into the delivery room, johnny is by your side, holding your hand like his life depends on it. he's grinning and panicking simultaneously. “yer incredible, love. just a bit more. ye've got this!”

simon stands beside you and smooths your hair out of your face, placing a hand on your shoulder during every contraction. he can tell you're a little scared. “one at a time. you're stronger than this.” his presence feels like a rock in the storm.

kyle makes sure you’re comfortable and liaising with the medical team. “she likes ice chips, not water,” he tells a nurse, even as he offers you his hand. “you're amazing. we're so proud of you, hun."

john is the unshakable anchor, standing at the foot of the bed, his voice steady and calm. “that's it. just like that. one more push.” he doesn’t waver for a second, even when you're literally howling in pain.

when the baby’s first cries fill the room, everything changes.

johnny lets out an actual cheer, tears streaming down his face. “we did it! we've got a bairn!” he's laughing, crying, and probably squeezing your hand too hard.

simon doesn’t say a word, all shock and awe, but when the nurse places the baby in your arms, his eyes soften in a way you’ve never seen before. He murmurs, “it's perfect,” his voice breaking slightly.

kyle cuts the cord with a shaky laugh, grinning ear-to-ear. “welcome to the world, little one.” he presses a kiss to your temple, his joy radiant.

john is last to hold the baby, cradling it in his large, steady hands. “you've done so well, love... I'm so proud of you.” his voice is thick with unshed tears and pride as he hands the baby back to you.

the night ends with a baby nestled in your arms and your family surrounding you. a chaotic, loving, perfectly imperfect family.

mlist

[stuckinmymind22]

you say "i love you" first

ft: zoro, sanji, robin, ace, and shanks

gn!reader (minus zoro, sorry), mostly fluff, mostly sfw (shanks is a little bit explicit)

a/n: i just think this is cute idk

zoro

you say it first and he kisses you instead of saying it back, that leads somewhere and he’s more tender than usual and you know that is him saying “i love you too” finally says it back after several days when you’re alone and he mumbles it, you aren’t sure that you heard him so you ask him what and he comes and whispers in your ear “i said, i love you, woman” don't expect him to say it often though, the words from him are rare, no matter how many times you tell him that you love him. instead, zoro shows his love in his actions, one time he pulled out your chair for you at dinner and didn't say anything about it (was kinda awkward with it tbh), but the rest of the crew poked fun at him. he somehow always knows when there is something wrong with you, and although not the most emotionally aware he will listen to any of your problems as you talk through your emotions

sanji

he has definitely said it way too early in the relationship, said it a bunch then as you got serious he slowly stopped saying it bc now the words meant more/had more weight and he didn't want to scare you off when you do say it, immediate nose bleed, nearly cries, says it back right away. now that you said it this man is going to make declarations of love at least once a day, somehow he never repeats himself. would probably scream it from the mountain tops if he could tbfh

robin

she’s really confused, not that she doesn’t love you back but more in the “how could anyone love me” type of way. she remains speechless for far longer than you would like, when she does speak again it's to tell you that she isn't quite ready to say it back. naturally, you're devastated by this and you start to distance yourself a bit. that ends up being what she needed to admit her feelings. she probably tries her best to make some romantic gesture maybe just flowers or maybe she gets sanji (ever the simp) to make your favorite dinner. she's the type to be real quiet about her love, not to say that her love for you is unnoticed by outsiders, but she is not going out of her way to make it known like sanji

ace

you guys say it at the exact same time both of you are like awesome. he says it at the most random times, sometimes walking up to you while you are in a conversation to whisper "i love you" in your ear. he adores the way that those words always bring a massive smile to your face he's still a little insecure about himself, but each time you tell him you love him he starts to get more and more confident. he starts to become attached to your side (gets made fun of for it but he doesn't care), not that he wasn't before, but this was more

shanks

takes a while for feelings to develop beyond sexual (you both went in thinking it was just a hookup and that it was all it would ever be) it starts to become clearer that you both are in too deep. neither of you want to ruin what you have so you stay silent about it for far too long once, after you had sex, you bring yourself to admit it, completely out of breath. he’s lowkey stunned, doesn’t really know what to say, says “thank you doll” of course you get mad and he’s like “what i just said thank you, you know i love you too” and you’re like "i mean i figured but it would’ve been nice to hear 🙄" never being bothered by pda, he starts to become more brazen in his displays of affection, sometimes catching you as you walk by to pull you into his lap, regardless of who is around

here's the sequel (they say "i love you first")

[changetyre]

Broken ⒾⓈⓌ

SUMMARY: You and Max are having trouble trying to grow your family and your daughters are affected by it. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: Angst, miscommunication, pregnancy issues, a smidge of smut at the end.

A/N: This was requested over on Wattpad. Despite the angst, this is one of my favorite parts of this series.

Max stretched out, his back feeling painful after carrying all the presents he'd bought up from the parking lot before stashing them in a high cupboard in the house where he was sure nobody would look. It was late and he'd spent most of the day out looking for gifts, although truly it was also an excuse to get some space since the environment at home wasn't the best right now. 

The house was quiet when he arrived, a good indicator the girls were already asleep in their room and you as well probably. Although only a few months ago there wouldn't be a day you wouldn't wait for Max before going to bed, physically unable to go to sleep without hearing his voice but lately things had changed and you and Max often went to bed without exchanging any words at all. 

Once he finally made his way to your bedroom he wasn't surprised to find you were in fact asleep, clothes scattered around the room which you also hadn't bothered to clean up. Max sighed, he was tired having not really had a day of relaxation since the season ended despite imagining he'd spend his winter holidays differently, that things would somehow get better. 

He proceeded to pick up the room a little bit making it a little more presentable before taking a quick shower and joining you in bed. While his skin screamed to feel yours Max didn't feel comfortable enough to do so anymore, not knowing how you'd react to him placing an arm around you like he had done every night since you'd gotten together..until a few months ago. 

The next morning Max woke up to find you'd woken up but stayed laying there simply staring up at the ceiling, he knew your mind was spiraling but truly didn't want to ask anymore knowing you'd shut him out.  

"Hey," Max asked. His voice almost felt too loud for the silence. 

"Hi." Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound almost strange to him not used to hearing it often anymore. 

"How d'you sleep?" Max asked. 

"I'm gonna go make breakfast for the girls." you ignored his question avoiding eye contact as you left the room leaving no more space for conversation. 

Once Max got himself ready for the day he went out to join you for breakfast finding you'd already eaten and were in the process of washing the dishes. He'd be lying if he said this didn't hurt him but held back from saying anything not wanting to start an argument. 

The rest of the day was mostly spent in silence apart from the laughter and ruckus from your children there were no words exchanged between you and Max. At some point, Max left the house once more wanting space. 

"Mama," Ivy called you as you played with both your daughters in the balcony. 

"Yeah, baby." Your daughters naturally made you smile, probably the only time you showed any sort of emotion lately. 

"Do you and Papa not love each other anymore?" She asked. 

Your heart skipped a beat, the immediate urge to cry reaching your throat and you only hoped your eyes gave no indication to the sudden burst of emotion. You noticed the way Lea's smile also dropped at the question, her attention ready to hear your answer. 

"Uhm, of course we do baby why would you think that?" You asked hoping your shaky voice didn't worry your daughters. 

"Papa doesn't blink at you anymore...like dis mama." Ivy showed you by blinking her eyes hard three times just like her father used to do to you almost daily before. 

The reminder of this almost broke you, you began picking up the girl's toys making sure they weren't able to see your face properly as you began crying. "You don't have to worry girls, everythings okay with Papa and me." You lied to your daughters, and it was evident by the weakness of your voice but you weren't sure what else to say. 

"Mama, are you okay?" Lea asked this time, her voice filled with concern, she was growing up, she of course noticed things, possibly understood things a little more than her sister and you knew you were hurting her, hurting them both and thought of this killed you inside. 

"I'm fine Lea, why don't you take your sister to your room and watch a movie, I'm gonna shower." You tried your best to force a smile wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before facing your older daughter. 

Lea simply nodded not wanting to cause you more distress before taking Ivy's hand and guiding her away. Once they were gone you let yourself cry it out. 

Trying and failing to conceive another child had been more emotionally draining than you had ever imagined it would be. You and Max had tried, tried, and tired to the point making love to him wasn't exciting anymore, it was frustrating, full of desperation, and so eventually, you stopped. You stopped trying, stopped connecting, stopped loving.  

Silence seemed like the easiest solution, not willing to face the reality of it all. Drowning in your own thoughts was exhausting but it seemed like the better option since potentially hearing the way you let down your partner, your family was worse. 

But it was obvious now, it was obvious how much this was already hurting your family so you had to toughen up now, muster enough strength to talk to Max, talk to your husband, and face whatever was next for you, whether good or bad it had to better than letting your daughters see the way things were falling apart between you. 

___________

Max once again came home to silence, he could hear the TV on in the girl's room and he didn't want to go to his room so instead decided to try to wrap up the presents in secret while he had the time. 

Max was semi-successful, his daughters had walked out of their room and been insistent on wanting to know what Max was doing despite him telling them several times to go back to their rooms and his patience was wearing thin. 

He was only able to get them to stay in their rooms after promising them a play date with their uncle Lando on the weekend if they behaved. Finally knowing they would stay in their rooms Max took the time to try to hide the gifts again so he could put them under the tree by the end of the month. 

He'd headed to the bathroom and when he came back anger and frustration flooded him at seeing Lea helping Ivy up to the counter to try to open the cupboard where he'd stashed the gifts. 

"LEA!" Max yelled letting his emotions control him for the first time with his daughters. 

Lea and Ivy both gasped and Max ran to catch Ivy who almost slipped off the counter trying to get down quickly. 

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING! WERE YOU EVEN THINKING!? YOUR SISTER COULD'VE GOTTEN HURT!" Max yelled at his older daughter. 

You heard the commotion from the room running out to check on the situation. "I WANT YOU BOTH IN YOUR ROOMS, NO TV, NO GAMES, GO STRAIGHT TO BED!" Max continued yelling. 

Both Ivy and Lea were in tears at seeing their dad so angry for the first time in their lives, running straight to their rooms. 

"Max calm down." Your heart broke, you knew Max was never like this with your daughters and it scared you to see this side of him come out, feeling partly guilty for it. 

"Oh wow...so now you decide to talk to me." Max scoffed pushing past you and into your room. 

Your heart broke at the action, but he was right. You knew he needed time to cool off so you headed to your daughter's room to check on them. 

Opening the door you had to try to hold back your own tears at the sight. Lea held Ivy in her arms as they both sobbed. You couldn't say anything to afraid to burst into tears so instead sat by your daughter's bed and hugged them both. 

"I-I-I'm so-so-sorry-ma-ma." Lea hiccuped not being able to catch her own breath at how much she cried. 

This time you felt a few tears run down your cheeks. "Hey baby it's okay." You took her face in your hands trying to soothe her. "Lea honey it's okay." You blew gently on your daughter's face trying to calm her down. 

"Pa-pa's- ang-angr-angry." she continued hiccuping. 

"I know darling he shouldn't have yelled like that baby. He loves you so much, we both do." You reminded her kissing her forehead. 

Eventually, Ivy had fallen asleep crying on her sister's lap so you picked her up and moved her to her bed tucking her in. You then went back to your older daughter who was having a little bit of a harder time settling down. 

"Lea listen sometimes people get angry at other things and they feel so angry for a long time that when something else happens they just blow up and scream." You tried your best to explain to your daughter. 

"Like papa?" She asked. 

"Yeah like Papa Baby, Papa's feeling a lot of things because of something else and unfortunately he just took it out on you." You revealed. 

Little did you know Max was listening from outside, after cooling off a little he felt bad and meant to go apologize to his daughters but stopped once he heard you inside with them. 

"But why?" Lea asked. "Why is papa angry mama?" Lea was almost 6, you knew she was starting to get a better grasp of things and you also knew being honest with her would be the best thing for her right now so after thinking about it for a few seconds you decided to just be honest with her. 

"Do you remember on Ivy's 2nd birthday when she wished for a brother?" You asked your daughter. 

"Yeah," Lea replied moving her head to look up at you. 

"Well your Papa and I after that, after talking a lot tried to make another baby..."Your voice broke. 

Max's heart broke at hearing you struggle to speak. 

"Well, we tried for a long time and Mama just couldn't get another baby in her tummy which made both Mama and Papa really really sad." You revealed. 

"Why won't the baby go in your tummy mama?" Lea asked innocently, reaching for her little hand to wipe some tears off your cheek. 

"I don't know baby, maybe mommy's broken." You were full-on crying but you could see your daughter's understanding eyes at the situation. 

"Is that why Papa doesn't say I love you with his eyes anymore?" Lea asked again, oblivious to the impact her question had on her parents. Max fell to his knees outside the room distraught at the guilt he could hear in your voice, and about the fact that his daughters and possibly you thought he didn't love you anymore. 

"I don't know honey...maybe. It's not easy when you want something really really bad and you just can't get it so it can make you feel a lot of things, mommy feels like it's her fault that the baby doesn't want to go in her tummy." You tried to finish explaining. 

"I'm sorry Mama." Lea apologized once more. "But even if you are broken mama I'll still love you the same, I'll even say it with my eyes if you want." Lea smiled imitating her dad by blinking her eyes I love you just like her dad used to do. 

This time your tears were of gratitude at feeling the love your daughter had for you, the simplicity with which her mind understood the situation and tried to make you feel better. "Thank you, baby." You hugged your daughter placing kisses on her cheek. 

Lea settled enough, feeling a little better at understanding why things had been a little weird at home lately. You watched her fall asleep. You took a deep breath ready to have a difficult conversation with your husband praying it might go a little similar to the conversation you had with your daughter. 

You walked out of their room and were surprised to find Max sitting outside, his back to the wall with his face in his hands. You could tell he'd been crying from the wet spots on his shirt and trousers. 

"Maxy." You fell to your knees beside him. 

Max pulled his hands away as you both wrapped your arms around each other at the same time. You both started crying in each other's arms, Max holding you tightly against him. 

"You're not broken, I never thought so either I just wanted you to talk to me." He whispered. "I love you so much and I'm sorry I ever let you doubt it, and I'm sorry for screaming at Ivy and Lea, I'm just- I'm so sorry for everything" Max cried tucking his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I felt so useless and frustrated I couldn't get pregnant. I know how long you've been trying to hold it together for us, for all of us and I shouldn't have ever let you carry all of it on your own. I'm sorry too for everything."  You also apologized. "I love you, Max, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you I just wanted to give us another baby." 

"I know." Max sighed pulling back and wiping tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. "Look I would love to have another baby with you, I'd have a 100 if it was with you but I'm so enamored by the family you've given me already, our girls...they're the best thing that have ever happened to me and if trying to have another baby is gonna cost us...us...than I don't want it." Max was honest. 

You nodded agreeing with his words. 

"It doesn't mean we stop trying, we can if that's what you want but I just want you back first, I need us to be okay before trying again okay?" He asked you. 

"Yeah." You agreed once more. 

Max rested his forehead against yours. You heard him take a deep breath. "God I missed you." he sighed before leaning down to place his lips against yours. 

You kissed him back harshly almost desperate to taste him again mentally questioning yourself how you were able to survive without this for as long as you did. "I love you," you whispered as you momentarily pulled away to catch your breath. 

But Max kept kissing you not wanting for this to stop, as if his body was trying to catch up on all the time he spent without your touch. "I love you." He whispered back scooping you into his lap, your legs wrapping around him as he stood up with you in his arms before taking you to your bedroom. 

Laying you down on your shared bed it once again felt right, being shared with him. Max was quick to get you naked, teasing you as he prepared you for him.

"I adore you." He whispered as he slipped into you. You'd be okay.