#crying and smiling and screaming while giggling

[starryjake]

idea... reader being insecure about getting head but she has MUNCH HEE as a boyfriend and she ends up being addicted too

🫰🫰🫰🫰well yes.

“please, baby,” heeseung nearly begs.

his hands are rubbing your bare thighs, slowly making their way up and up and up.

he pushes the fabric of your skirt up as he goes, eager to get to what’s laying beneath it.

“i don’t know, hee,” you say.

you’re nervous, although you can’t deny how much just his hands rubbing your thighs are turning you on. you can feel yourself getting wet, an ache starting to from from the need to be touched.

“there’s nothing to be nervous about, i promise,” he tells you assertively. you look into his eyes and know that means it. “i just wanna make you feel good, sweetheart. that’s all i want.”

that was mostly all he wanted. of course he wanted to make you, his sweet girlfriend, feel good. but he also knew he would get a lot of pleasure out of himself.

since the day he started going out with you—hell, from the minute he met you, he wanted to taste you. he wanted to get his head between your legs and give you the head of a lifetime.

“but what if—”

heeseung cuts you off with a delicate kiss. he kisses you slowly, deeply, and it makes you realize even more so how bad you need him.

“you trust me, don’t you?” he whispers.

“yeah,” you answer, meaning it with all your heart.

“can i?” he asks, digging his finger into the waistband of your skirt.

“yes,” you finally tell him.

he practically rips your skirt and underwear off of you, beyond eager to finally get what he’s been dreaming of for months. you were worth it wait, he knew it before even getting a taste.

he lays down on his stomach, glancing up at you with his big doe eyes to ensure that you were okay. you still had that worried expression on your face, but heeseung was set on changing it to a pleasured one.

he kisses your thighs, his lips so soft and light that it tickles. you giggle a little, which in turn, makes him smile, relieved to know that you’re relaxing.

then finally, finally he leans in and licks a long, firm strip up from the bottom of your pussy to your clit. you gasp at the sensation, throwing your head back because suddenly it’s too heavy to hold up.

“oh my god,” you moan, thighs attempting to close around his head.

he pushes them back apart, tilting his head to lean on one as he focuses on eating your pussy. he licks up and down and circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, which has your legs twitching.

“heeseung,” you cry out, reaching down to entangle your fingers in his hair.

“mmm, yeah, baby,” he moans into your cunt. “you taste so good. you’re so wet for me, honey.”

“it feels…” you trail off as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks for a moment, quite literally taking your words away.

“feels what?” he asks.

you couldn’t remember what you were going to say. you couldn’t even think. he was eating you out so good it was making you dumb.

he didn’t mind. he could feel himself going dumb too, lost in how good you taste and how smooth and warm and amazing you feel against his tongue.

“my perfect girl,” he praises, slightly squeezing your thighs. “god, it’s so fucking good.”

all you could do was moan, getting confident enough to spread your legs wider and hump your hips up into his face. somehow, you needed even more, and he would give it to you.

he shifted his hands from your thighs and used his fingers to spread your pussy, then stuffed his face right back into it. the tip of his nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue thrusted in and out of your hole was enough to send you over the edge.

“hee!” you nearly scream. “i’m cumming! fuck, i’m cumming. i’m cumming, i’m—”

again, you couldn’t speak anymore. you were cumming way too hard to do anything but let it wash over you in silence. heeseung kept his head buried between your legs while you did, nursing you through your orgasm.

you yelped when you finally came down, and heeseung regretfully pulled away from your pussy. his lips, chin, and nose were glistening with your cum.

“fuck,” he growled, crawling up the bed to kiss you hard on the lips. “you’re so fucking hot, baby. can’t believe i finally got a taste of you. i don’t think i’m gonna be able to go a day without it now.”

and you had no problem with that. who were you to complain about your boyfriend starting and ending every day with his face between your legs?

[gf2bellamy]

how do you think dad spencer would deal with all his hygiene phobias with a kid ?? personally picturing him putting on a brave face and telling himself its fine when his daughter pulls on her rain boots and asks him to jump in muddy puddles with her (but internally hes freaking out and planning to spend like 2 hours in the shower afterwards)

this kind of turned into a drabble. i love girldad!spencer too much

spencer definitely puts on a brave face.

that’s his instinct especially around his daughter. and he knows, logically, that dirt isn’t always dangerous. he knows germs are part of life.

but none of that knowledge prepares him for the moment his daughter tugs on his hand and points with excitement at a huge puddle on the sidewalk.

“daddy, let’s jump!”

his brain short-circuits. bacteria. parasites. the idea of her catching a cold. he bites the inside of his cheek, hard and takes a breath. at first, his concern is completely about her. he kneels down, trying to redirect.

“hey, honey, look over there. that’s a robin’s nest, see the bird?”

but she’s not even looking. her eyes are still locked on that brown puddle. he hesitates, then sighs and lets go of her hand.

“okay. just be careful,” he manages.

she squeals in delight and jump into the puddle. spencer flinches when a drop of muddy water lands directly on his pants. he tries not to show it. smiles through clenched teeth.

his stomach is doing somersaults, but her laughter is worth it. she’s happy. she’s safe. that’s what matters.

but then she turns. “daddy, come on! jump with me!”

his heart actually stops. “oh, uh—no, that’s okay, you go ahead, i'm just gonna watch—”

“daddy,” she says again, tugging at his hand, bottom lip poking out in a pout that’s both manipulative and completely innocent. she's stubborn just like him.

he swallows hard. internally he’s screaming. crying. calculating the bacteria count per square inch of street water.

but she’s smiling at him like he hung the moon. so he steps forward.

one boot, then the other, and then he jumps. a weak little hop, barely a splash. but it counts. she laughs so hard she almost falls over.

she grabs his hand and demands they do it again. and again. and again.

and for a while his daughter's giggles drown out the panic. he still hates how wet his socks feel. still cringes every time the cold water soaks up higher on his pants.

but he’s laughing now, too. just a little.

by the time they get home, his daughter is yawning and dragging her boots. as soon as they walk inside and he sees the mud streaked across his legs, that’s when the reality slams back in.

“okay, bath time,” he says quickly, voice pitched high. “for me. i mean.”

before you can even ask him if he had fun, he’s gone, practically sprinting to the bathroom, peeling off clothes on the way. you call after him, but all you get is a shouted, “i’m okay! i’m okay!” followed by the sound of the shower on full blast.

you blink, confused until you look down and see the trail of wet footprints and two soaked, dirty boots. your daughter is grinning up at you, soaked from the knees down, her curls frizzy from the rain.

“what did you do to daddy?” you ask, laughing softly as you kneel to unzip her coat.

“he jumped in the puddles with me,” she says proudly. “he was so good at it!”

you smile, heart warm. “i’m sure he was.”

meanwhile, in the bathroom, spencer is scrubbing like a man possessed. there are three different soaps in rotation. he’s mentally cataloging every spot where water hit him.there’s a little voice in his head whispering that he’ll probably need to disinfect his shoes and maybe even the doorknob.

but underneath all the panic, there’s a flicker of joy.

because despite the dirt and the germs, he made his daughter laugh. and he’ll do it again tomorrow if she asks.

[concretejunglefm]

Can I kindly request more dad Noah? He comes back after being on tour for a long time and reader is used to taking care of the baby alone so she unintentionally doesn't let Noah do anything or just says "let me do that" for anything he tries to do and he gets sad? I'm taking some time off tumblr for last few days, but I saw dad Noah and came running🤭

Here you go bb 💕 dad!noah being a sweetheart and fretting over whether or not he’s a good dad or not 🥺

She won’t stop crying. The little bundle of joy who once cooed and giggled in his arms won’t stop crying, and Noah feels useless.

Since arriving home from tour and trying to settle back into the hustle and bustle of family life, things feel different. You have a newborn—well, had a newborn—who somehow grew to almost five months old in the time he was away. There’s a guilt that lingers. He only missed a handful of months for work, but even that feels like a lifetime.

He was always coming back, always counting the days, but now, every time he tries to step in, it feels like he’s either stepping on your toes or fumbling over the simplest things. He can’t even figure out what will stop his own daughter from crying.

“What about Ducky?” he asks, doing his best to put on a cheerful face as he holds up the duck teddy Folio gifted—part joke, part sweet gesture, naming it after Noah himself.

Somehow, her crying only grows louder, her tiny arms flailing until they catch the duck, pushing it away as if rejecting the comfort he offered. Noah sighs, tossing the toy onto the couch in defeat as he begins pacing back and forth.

It feels like he’s tried everything. He’s doing all he can to calm her, to take some of the load off you, but it never seems like enough, and when you walk into the room, tiredness in your eyes but your voice soft and full of love as you coo down at her, the guilt already weighing on his chest twists tighter.

“Oh dear, why are we crying, hmm? What did Daddy do?” you fuss gently, lifting her from his arms.

He doesn’t blame you for stepping in, you’ve been doing this alone for the past few months, but it’s starting to feel isolating, like he’s standing outside his own family, looking in.

“She just… she wouldn’t settle, and nothing seemed to calm her.”

It feels like he’s being made out to be a liar, because the moment your daughter is in your arms, her eyes are bright and wide—no tears, no screams. She’s back to cooing, looking perfectly content.

“She’s probably just being fussy. She has those days,” you say with a shrug, brushing it off like you’ve seen it all before, and maybe you have. You’re used to the way her moods shift so suddenly, while he’s not.

That’s when it hits him: this is still new to him. He took her crying as rejection. He took it personally, like his own daughter didn’t want him.

“Maybe she’s just a mommy’s girl,” he mumbles, trying not to let the sadness show, but you fire back with a quick, playful remark that manages to pull a small, half hearted, smile from him.

“Aren’t you both?”

You make it look easy, her tucked against your chest in one arm, gently bouncing her back and forth, while your free hand reaches out to him, fingers threading through his hair.

“You’re doing good, Daddy. You just need a little extra practice. She’s a bit of a diva—takes after someone else around here,” you tease, giving him a playful wink before leaning in to nudge your hip against his.

Somehow, that simple gesture eases the tension in his chest. The nerves that had been clawing at him begin to settle, just enough to calm the storm inside and hold back the gnawing doubts that never seem to stay away for long.

[cupid-diary]

THIS ISN'T JUST A CRUSH | chapter 6

SUMMARY she was the girl who once tripped over a chair leg and apologised to it. the kind of person you'd barely glance at twice in the hallway – funny? sure, but easy to miss. and then she disappeared. two years. no contact. now she's back! not to relive the past but to live loudly. she wasn't supposed to fall back into their orbit. they weren't supposed to start looking at her like that. but this isn't highschool anymore. and this isn't just a crush.

chapter 6 – boarding now. (written part 0.7k) | next`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

y/n didn't cry when she booked the ticket.

she didn't cry when she told her parents over facetime, didn't cry while sending in her transfer paperwork, didn't even cry when her acceptance came through and karina screamed so loud her neighbours knocked on the door.

but now, with the airport hours away and her suitcase wide open on the floor, it was starting to hit her. this wasn't a joke anymore. she was leaving.

the night before, karina offered her apartment without saying a word. the group just showed up. the same way they always did when something mattered - loudly, badly timed and with snacks. it was chaos from the second she walked in.

ningning was wearing sunglasses indoors as she braided y/n's hair, humming softly in between bursts of laughter and random tiktok quotes. yeonjun came armed with snacks and made everyone play music while he 'curated the vibe', which meant aggressively queuing up dance tracks that clashed with soobin's sad ballads. whereas soobin sat crisscross with a glitter gel pen in hand, scribbling onto a goodbye card that didn't feel real yet. beomgyu tried to sneak a collage of y/n's most embarrassing photos in her luggage for 'memories' he said. lastly, karina was sitting on the floor surrounded by three open makeup bags, making sure that you'll have a comfortable flight.

there were dumplings on the table. spilled glitter on the floor. spotify was playing that one playlist they made freshman year when everything sucked and the only thing that helped was dancing in the kitchen until their cheeks hurt from laughing.

they stayed up too late, way too late. they talked about everything – uni nightmares, old highschool drama, that one cursed guy from karina's philosophy class. but they didn't talk about the move. not until 2:43 am, when soobin quietly asked, "are you nervous?"

and y/n – wrapped in a blanket, sitting between ningning's legs as she continued to finish up your hair, whispered: "yeah. i think i'm scared they won't recognise you."

there was a pause. then yeonjun said in a comforting tone, "good. because that means you changed."

the next morning came too fast. her suitcase was overstuffed, her hair was a little frizzy and the iced matcha karina brought her tasted like both goodbye and "you better facetime us every damn night."

they all crammed into soobin's car and made the drive to the airport like a group on the brink of something they weren't ready for. the airport was cold. too bright. too real. y/n tried to keep it together, she really did.

but when karina pulled her aside by the check-in counter and pressed a polaroid photo into her hand – a blurry pic of all of them at 1 am, laughing so hard ningning was on the floor – she felt her throat close.

"in case you forget who you are," karina said, voice soft. "or who made you that way." y/n blinked fast. tears slipped anyway.

"you're allowed to miss us," ningning whispered, her hug too tight and too short. "just don't shrink back to fit into someone else's memory of you."

yeonjun held her like she was glass and mumbled, "make them fall so hard they write songs about you." a giggle between your sobs emitted.

soobin didn't say anything. just pressed his hoodie into y/n's hands and smiled. and beomgyu... goodness. beomgyu wiped his eyes and then yelled, loud enough to startle the nearby starbucks barista: "REMEMBER US WHEN YOU GET THERE AND MAKE AT LEAST ONE MAN CRY, I BEG YOU!" security turned. someone laughed. y/n was wheezing through her tears.

she made it to the gate on shaky legs, phone buzzing with their goodbye messages, cheeks sore from crying, heart stretched in all places they used to fit. she took a seat near the window and stared out at the runway.

her hands were trembling, so she reached for her phone and snapped a quick, blurry selfie – eyes red, smile soft and hoodie zipped all the way up. she sent it to the groupchat and they reacted instantly. then one by one, the typing bubbles came back and your notifications were flooded.

ningning✨: bitch i'm crying in the chipotle parking lot rn

rina💗: remember, you're so brave and beautiful. have a safe flight bby <33

yeonjuicy🍑: UR AN ICON ALWAYS KEEP UR HEAD HELD HIGH

feral child 🥸: go ruin a man's life and make it cinematic 🤪

soob 🤗: love you always! and let us know once you landed. now go be unforgettable 🧸

the speaker crackled overhead: "flight 082 to incheon international now boarding. group b, please proceed to gate 26." y/n stood and tugged her suitcase upright. took a breath and walked toward the gate like someone who finally remembered her own name.

TAGLIST open @zoe1love @haechology @xoseraphinaa @ddolleri @downtoeden @hawarun @genericxseas @kristynaaah

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝-𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[lotusbread]

OHHHMYYYGOSSHHHH!! WHAT?! THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL!!! 💘🪷 IM CRYING AND SMILING SO MUCH 🥺🤧☺️🥹🫶😭 MY EYES FEEL SO BLESSED! A THOUSAND—NO, A MILLION KUDOS, HEARTS, LIKES ETC. TO YOU!!! EVERYTIME I NEED INSPIRATION TO DRAW I WILL LOOK AT THIS ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE 😭🫶 UR SO TALENTED! 🫶🪷✨️ I WANT TO SAY MORE THINGS BUT I DIDNT WANT TO MAKE THIS TOO LONG! REBLOGGING IT SO IT COULD REACH MORE EYES TO BLESS ✨️🥹

This is like, what happened in the end of the second movie, right?

(Still a WIP technically but shhhh let me have this, these two put me through the RINGER)

[classyrbf]

thinking about classmate!gojo who has no idea that the shy, nerdy girl in his class is secretly a perv who has a massive crush on him and has been trading nudes with him. From the moment you saw him in your lecture, glistening blue eyes and fluffy white hair, you immediately could feel your heart pounding. He was so cute, so handsome, and god his muscles drove you crazy, not to mention his smile. He’s only glanced your way a few times, though, but it wasn’t until you went on your fake account and began sending such lewd pictures of your body to him that he started noticing you. To your surprise, he actually sent one back and from there on out, you chatted every day.

You shouldn’t have been shocked to find out that he had a pretty cock too. Lengthy and thick with a pretty pink tip, just waiting to be sucked and fucked. Everytime you scrolled through your chats, your hands always found a way in your pants, rubbing at your little aching clit. You’d get so worked up, so wet, sending him videos of your dripping pussy, fucking yourself on your fingers just for him. He’d send a video back, jerking his cock, his heavy breathing and soft moans in the background. “God, baby, you have such a pretty pussy, you know that?” He chuckles. And the next morning, you’re both back to being complete strangers. He’s sitting in his seat on the other side of the room, obnoxiously tapping his pencil, completely unaware that you’re fawning over him, getting wet just thinking about him.

Sometimes you even leave class to slip into the bathroom, pulling your skirt up and snapping a picture of your cunt or unbuttoning your shirt to snap a picture of your tits just to hit send to him. And when Gojo gets the notif in class, the professors words going in one ear and out the other while he hides his phone to stare at the pictures you sent, his cock growing hard. And still, he has no idea that it’s you.

gojo: send a video of you playing with yourself for me, yeah?

Without hesitation, you listen. You’re in the bathroom stall, skirt hiked up while you quietly finger your soaked cunt, showing your slicked coated fingers to the camera. And a few minutes later, you walk back into class, watching gojo look down at his phone, trying so hard to pay attention but failing so miserably.

Later that night, Gojo is in his bed, fucking his fist to your pictures and videos, scrolling through your chats and messages, his cock throbbing in hand. “Fuck, I wish I knew what you looked like,” he muttered under his breath, pressing play on a video of you fucking your dildo, your ass bouncing up and down on the silicone. “I could fuck you so much better, baby. Have you screaming, begging, crying for my dick,” he grunted, following your pace. His eyes are fixated on your pussy, drooling over how it grips the toy, your juices dripping down it while your ass jiggles. Just as he’s about to cum, he clicks off your video and presses record, making sure to capture the moment to send to you. “Look at what you fucking do to me,” he rasps, and seconds later he’s cumming all over himself, moaning, grunting, swearing under his breath.

All you can do is smile when you get the video, giggling to yourself. His toned abs flexing underneath the light when he cums, throbbing veins decorating his thick cock. He’s just so perfect to you. A few seconds later he messages you.

gojo: when you gonna let me see your pretty face?

you: you’ve already seen it <3

part 2

[prosypepper]

sensitive ft. toji fushiguro

to be as strong and high-spirited as you are, toji was definitely caught off-guard when he found you crying for the first time.

it didn’t happen on purpose, either. there was no sign as to why you’d be upset, you hadn’t told him anything all day that could even lead to you being so sad, sobbing hysterically into his pillow.

but that didn’t matter. all toji understood was that you were upset, sad, angry, something; and he needed to make it better. so there he stood, frozen in his tracks for a while, an unfamiliar pang in his chest at your cries—the sound alone almost upset him, for some reason.

you didn’t notice toji until he slid into bed behind you, easily scooping up your body in his arms and moving you around to rest on his chest, your arms still grasping the pillow. your cries got even harder for a second at the realization toji had you.

“hey, hey,” toji spoke, calmly, soft, “what’s wrong, babydoll?”

toji’s brows furrowed when you only sniffled and hyperventilated for a minute, chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath—to no avail. if it wasn’t for you practically melting into his touch, he would’ve thought he was making the situation even worse.

“baby,” toji whispered, waiting for a moment before pressing your head into the middle of his chest, “breathe.” his palm ran over your head repeatedly, taking big, deep breaths of his own in hopes you’d follow after. he could feel your tears soaking through his shirt, making big, wet spots, but at that moment, he cared for nothing more than to make you feel better.

like magic, your breathing began to slow down, sniffles becoming less frequent, the clutch you had on the pillow softening. toji took a big sigh of relief at that. he held you like that for a solid fifteen minutes, gently rocking you back and forth with his body.

yet toji didn’t count the minutes, he just stayed. stayed until you stopped crying, until your breathing was back to normal, until there was no sign of woe in the room. he rested his chin atop your head for a little, stroking your arm with his fingertips.

“you okay?” toji asked, almost awkwardly, when obviously, you were not okay.

“mhm,” you hummed, eyes open and staring at the window next to your shared bed.

“hey,” toji repeated, drawing his head back, your sad, wet eyes attracted to his like magnets, “none of that. what’s wrong?” just the simple question caused tears to well up in your eyes again, but you blinked them away and sighed.

“don’t know,” you said, resting your head on his chest by yourself that time, “overwhelmed, i guess. and i watched a sad movie. everything jus’ got to me at once.”

toji frowned, knowing he had no idea that life was piling up on you—and he hadn’t done anything to help beforehand.

“‘m sorry, baby,” he apologized, pecking a kiss to the top of your head, “didn’t know you were so stressed.”

“it’s not your fault, toji,” you replied, nuzzling into his chest, “i just suck at communicating.”

“that makes two of us,” he paused, thinking deeply about what to say next, “you can tell me whatever. scream, cry, hit me, i don’t care.”

“toji, i’m not gonna hit you,” you giggled, a smile finally creeping on your face—the smile toji had been waiting for since he first saw you so upset.

and for once in his life, with you in his arms, toji thought he was doing something right.

[poguehearted77]

Winter's Chance

Summary: It's Rafe's turn to have your son for the weekend, but it seems the weather wants you to spend the holidays together.

--Finally some Baby Daddy Rafe

With delicate rubs to your son's tummy, you desperately tried to get him to calm down with soft pleads and overeager soothing. He'd been fussing all day, so much that you'd called the doctor to make sure everything was okay.

They simply reassured you that it may just be a prolonged stage of fussiness. Most babies grow out of it around 4 months which is exactly where Max had just reached a few weeks ago.

Just when he was finally beginning to calm for a moment your ears are filled with the chime of your doorbell. Max picks up his crying as if he had never stopped. Your eyes roll, already knowing who is on the other side of the door.

You gently scooped him up to rest over your shoulder on top of the little binkie you tend to have thrown over your shoulder at all times for moments like this. He was cute, but the spit-up was never pretty and you were always prepared.

Opening the door from a distance you weren't expecting to see Rafe step in partially covered in snow. It distracted you momentarily before Max's cries cut through the shock.

"I know, I know." You whine, gently rocking him, backing away from the cold air that swept against your feet. "Hurry up, and close the door." His eyes roll, "Hello to you too." He closes the door and stomps off the snow from his boots before stepping out of them and hanging up his jacket.

"Woah, woah, what are you doing? This is just a pick-up, then you can have fun trying to calm him down at your place." Rafe stands still, his thumb gesturing to the door behind him, "You haven't seen the news, have you? They're closing the roads, so we're snowed in. The only reason I made it here is because of the suspension on my truck."

Your face turns sour and Max continues to cry.

"So why did you come in the first place if you knew you wouldn't be able to make it back?" He ignores your question for the most part, "Relax, baby. As excited as you are to see me, I didn't come for you. I came for my son. There he is," Rafe's expression lights up as he reaches for Max and takes him out of your hold.

"Rafe you can't just take him and expect him to calm-"

For the first time in seven hours, silence consumes the room. No more screams and tearful cries. "You've got to be fucking with me," You don't say it loudly, but Rafe still hears.

"Guess he was just missin' his daddy, huh? Isn't that right, Max?" Rafe's tone is playful as he pokes at Max's tummy which elicits tiny giggles and the brightest smile you'd seen all day.

You walk away, headed towards the kitchen. Not sure why you were moving so fast, Rafe was hot on your heels. "It's not your fault, it's probably just been a long day-" He finally shuts the fuck up with his smug remarks when he hears a soft cry, "Y/n," Your name rolls off his tongue, tender and sweet. "Baby, what's wrong?" Effortlessly, he supports Max with one hand while he reaches to turn you so you're facing him.

Your eyes are filled with tears, lips quivering ever so slightly and he knows what's coming. He's seen you like this more times than he can count. He takes you under his arm, your cheek pressed to his chest and you break down, muttering into the fabric of his hoodie.

He comforts you with a big hand rubbing your back, soothing you the way he learned from those parenting books that he swear he never read. "It's so hard, Rafe." Is all you manage to say through broken cries for the first five minutes before you're pushing off him, expression more angry than upset? "He was crying all day, and the second you walk in, he's perfectly fine."

Rafe's lips frown, puzzled. "And that's a bad thing?--"

"Yes! Why do you get to be Superman?!" Earlier, the sound of a pin drop would disturb Max from calming, but now even your exclamations left him unfazed, as long as he was in Rafe's arms he was unbothered.

As a matter of fact, with a second glance, you notice he'd actually fallen asleep. Just Perfect. Another win for Superman.

He chuckles, leading you both to have a seat on the couch. Your son sleeping soundly in his father's hold. "Well, I think I've got the abs for it." His shit-eating grin spreads across his lips.

"You try carrying a baby in your stomach for nine months, and you tell me if you still have abs after." Subtly, his tongue wets his lips at the memory, "All I remember is how good you looked pregnant. Shit, wanna do it again?" You'd never wanted to hurt someone so badly.

"You're lucky you're holding my son." He scoffs, leaning in slightly as if to speak away from the baby. "I seem to remember the two of us going half on the conception, and a few times after that." You air-swat him and stand, making your way for the stairs. "I'm going to take a nap."

The hours flew by as you finally had your first uninterrupted nap in what felt like years. By the time you woke up, the sun was long gone, and there was a thick layer of fresh snow sitting on your window pane. You headed downstairs and stopped at the bottom of the steps to appreciate the view.

Nothing melted you quite like the sight of Rafe taking care of Max. You hated to admit it, but he was a good dad. A really good one. Hot, too. Rafe held the bottle to Max's lips, murmuring some undistinguishable babbles with a soft smile. Surely speaking a language only the two of them can understand.

"I hope you warmed the bottle before you gave it to him." You say, and he finally notices you standing by the stairs, stalking your way over and sitting beside him.He ignores you, knowing that you're just trying to get under his skin. "You look well rested." He remarks and you sigh with a soft nod. "Yeah, I am actually." He grins to himself, "Must be a miracle to sleep well on that cheap-ass mattress you got up there."

"Sorry, we can't all have premium mattresses." Rafe pulls the bottle back once he realizes Max has had his fill. "Y'know my money is your money right? I give you ten thousand a month but everything I have is yours, too." Standing him up on his lap first, Rafe holds the baby over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

"Well, I don't need to live in a fifteen thousand sq ft house to be happy unlike you." He shakes his head slowly, his gaze falls on you, somber. "I seem happy to you? I don't give a shit how big my place is. It's always going to be empty without you two in it... " He trails off, alluding there's more to come.

"Rafe.. What are you saying?"

"Move in with me, again." Your head shakes before you sputter profuse denials, "No, Rafe, we can't we tried that before remember? We don't get along. Technically, we're not even together." The conversation is briefly interrupted by a small gurgled burp on Max's behalf.

Rafe leans down to place a drowsy Max in his rocker in front of the couch before sitting back up. "Things were different then, we were eighteen. I can't do the back-and-forth anymore. Don't you wanna wake up in the morning, see that Max is taken care of and I'm making you breakfast, then we go back to bed and I take care of you? Huh?" He hums, his voice igniting sparks along the length of your neck as he nosed along it.

"Rafe.." your voice is shaky, feeling the heat from the discussion.

"Whadd'ya say, hm?" You reflect, having Rafe stay with you today, in just a few short hours you'd been able to take a break, he held you when you cried like he always did. You'd hardly even fought. Though that was no surprise, the two of you fought considerably less ever since Max came into the picture.

"Okay, yes." You can feel the lines from his smile stretch against your jaw just before he begins to pepper kisses on your cheek. "Y'know, we made the world's cutest baby ever right?" You smile, both your gazes focused on the little one before you.

"He's got your eyes, for sure." Rafe states and you giggle, "You're just saying that because they're brown." He sits up straight, heartfully disagreeing. "I'm not. They're the same eyes that I fell in love with when I first laid my eyes on you, and the same ones that humbled me when they looked up at me for the first time in the NICU."

His words were touching. You're seeing a whole new side of him. Not the usually hot-headed and impulsive man you were used to. This one was sweeter, softer, and more sincere.

You reeled him in for the first kiss, his lips soft as they pressed against yours, his hands confidently holding you at your waist. "Ah, I see you're taking me up on my previous offer. Let's go for a girl this time, yeah?" He grins, and you pinch him.

[kingkaisen]

“I miss him too.” — Kento Nanami

Your young daughter sees someone who looks like Nanami.

Nearby shoppers all grimaced in utter annoyance as they pushed their carts down the aisles packed with goods.

A young child was throwing a tantrum, probably because they wanted a box of cereal and their mother told them no, they assumed.

“A bratty, spoiled child is a result of poor parenting,” one woman whispered to another, and together, they glared at the scene in front of them: you, kneeling in front of your inconsolable daughter.

Her face was a mess of streaming tears, ones that soaked the front of her butterfly-themed shirt. Her eyes were closed, fists clenched, and her mouth hung open as she released one ear-piercing sob after another.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s okay,” your words were pointless.

You had no choice but to scoop your daughter up, abandoning your cart of groceries, all the while rushing out of the store while fellow shoppers glared, watching the scene unfold.

Everything was fine just five minutes prior. Five minutes.

Your sweet girl was walking beside you down the aisle, rambling on and on about whatever interesting subject crossed her mind, from cheesy pizza to “rainbow birds.”

Just as you grabbed a loaf of bread off one of the shelves, a man walked by.

He was tall. Fit. Blonde. Dressed like a man who had just clocked out of his nine-to-five, holding a phone to his ear. He even sounded similar. He was, in fact, similar enough to him for even you to do a double take.

But while you knew well who it wasn’t, the same couldn’t be said for your daughter.

You told her several months prior that her father would never come home again.

He was gone. Long gone.

She didn’t quite understand at first. Not until she ran around her home, the gentle pitter-patter of her feet accompanying her sweet giggles as she wrapped her little fingers around every single doorknob in her home, twisted it open, and saw that her dear dad wasn’t there to greet her with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek.

But here he was! After so, so, long, her dad had returned.

She squealed, running as fast as her small feet could carry her in the direction of the man before you could drop your bread and grab her.

The man saw her coming. He swiftly moved around her as if she was an obstacle in his path, shot you a cold glare, and said, “Control your kid, lady. This isn’t a playground.”

Your daughter’s smile vanished, her footsteps coming to a halt.

“Oh, honey,” you walked in front of her and kneeled. “That wasn’t your daddy, sweetheart. We talked about where he was, remember? He’s in a . . . a better place.”

You gripped her arm with trembling hands, but her eyes, widened with shock, weren’t on you, but rather, the floor below her feet, which her tears splattered against as she started to cry.

“Why is daddy gone?” She sniffled. “He wo-won’t come back?”

It took everything — everything — in you not to cry at the sound of her sad voice.

You stroked her hair and told her no, and that was it.

Her first heartbreaking sob came, one that was created out of grief, sadness, and confusion. She missed him. She missed him more than anything. She tried to beg you to make the man who was gone forever return, but her words were broken up by her neverending cries.

All she could do was scream and cry for him in hopes that he would hear her from that better place, that he would come running and scoop her up in his arms like he always did when she was upset. Then, the ouch she felt in her chest would stop hurting.

But that never happened.

Instead, you were the one who lifted her despite the way she kicked and screamed.

“I know,” you said softly, your own tears falling this time. “I know. I miss him too.”

You made a turn to exit your current aisle, which brought both you and your sobbing child in front of the next aisle over, where the man from earlier froze and stared at you both with glassy eyes filled with sorrow and sympathy.

He heard the conversation that took place after he walked past your child and gave you an inconsiderate remark.

“I’m sorry,” he tried to say to you as you made your way to the exit doors, but you couldn’t hear him. Not over the loud cries of Kento’s little girl, who missed him more than she needed to breathe.

@sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @thequeenofcurses @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @thewondrousdreamer @levisfavoriteteashop @preciousamethyst @iwanttohitmyself @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @he11okitty-mari@dolphin1135 @ioveartfilm @filhadaanarquia @blackdxggr @jaegergirl @gunslxtz @he11okitty-mari @koikohib @http-bell

[celabi]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

shidou + sae + kaiser + ness + nagi + isagi + reo + rin x f reader

throws this at you and runs away giggling

shidou thinks he’s god’s gift to women.

even when he’s standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom in nothing but crusty spiderman boxers with a hole near the waistband, hair an untamed and wild mess, and that signature smug little smirk tugging at his lips.

there you’d be, lying in bed like a goddess in some delicate, sheer lace nightgown, white and silky, barely clinging to your figure, looking like you had just walked out of some teenage boys fantasy. like some playboy magazine cover model come to life.

and him.

he’s standing there like he’s the main fucking event. arms flexed slightly, hip cocked to the side, trying to give you the look, the one where he raises one of his eyebrows and puts on a sexy smoulder he learned when you both watch tangled the other night and won’t stop doing—

“you like what you see, babe?”

he winks, digging his thumb beneath the waistband and drawing back, only to let it slap back against his hip with a loud snap. “it’s your lucky night. spider man’s feelin’ real naughty...”

you blink.

he climbs into bed like he’s about to change your entire life, and the scent of his body spray (which smells suspiciously like the high school gym locker he confessed to you in all those years ago) hits you almost instantly.

you shuffle an inch away, a small grimace on your face which he immediately takes notices of. “what? awe, don’t act shy now, sweetheart,” he purrs, throwing an arm around your waist and pulling you back in, those fucking children’s boxers brushing up against your thigh. “you didn’t marry all of this for nothin.”

you sigh, a hand dragging down your face.

yes. you did marry him. you just didn’t know the spiderman boxers would come with the deal.

sae loved stuff like this.

you were practically bouncing with excitement, eyes sparkling as you dragged him through the zoo with the excitement of a small child.

“monkeys first,” you told him, clutching your camera to your chest. “the little ones that look like they’re judging everyone.”

sae gave a tiny smile, the kind he only ever gave you. “mm.”

you made a beeline for the primate exhibit, and he followed, hands in his pockets, steps a little lazy as he stayed behind.

and yeah, the monkeys were indeed adorable. tiny, scruffy, wide eyed little creatures that climbed all over each other and made judgmental little faces when people threw banana’s into the den. you cooed and laughed and snapped like fifty photos while sae leaned on the railing, watching you as if you were the attraction instead of the small animals.

and then, out of nowhere, he softly slips his hand into yours.

“honey, look.” he murmured, pointing behind you somewhere. you turned, expecting maybe a new baby monkey or something cute.

but no.

seagulls.

plain, loud, not even part of the zoo seagulls, strutting around like they owned the place. annoying visitors and making a mess of the trash can.

“…seriously?” you blinked. “the monkeys are right there and you’re watching birds?”

sae just shrugged, totally serious. “they’re smart.”

one of them squawked and stole a french fry from a kid who began to cry, and you swore you saw his eyes light up.

“see?”

you stared at him like he’d lost it. “you brought me to the zoo for cute animals and you’re impressed by street birds?”

he nodded. “they’re intelligent creatures.”

you sighed, but your lips twitched.

and when he took a sneaky photo of you next to a monkey doing the exact same unimpressed face, you let him.

kaiser was thriving.

lights flashing, fans screaming, reporters yelling his name from every direction, but none of it mattered. because you were on his arm, and you looked so fucking good it should’ve been illegal. and maybe it was, on his poor heart.

you, in a dress that made people double take. and him in a designer suit which basically screamed ‘look at me!’ but still refusing to let go of your hand for even a second.

“look this way, kaiser!”

“over here!”

“pose with the ball!”

“kaiser, who’s the woman with—”

“yeah yeah, i know, i’m hot,” he waved dismissively at the cameras, tugging you closer. “but have you seen her? look at her. look. she’s the star. me? i’m just her soccer groupie.”

you barely blinked, and shielding your eyes from the countless flashes. “you dragged me here.”

“because the red carpet needed flavor,” he grinned, nudging you playfully. “and you’re the whole meal. i’m just the bowl you sit in.”

“what does that even mean—”

cue the camera clicks exploding like fireworks.

someone handed him a microphone and instead of answering questions about his match performance, he started bragging about your skincare routine.

“she does this thing with, like, snail goo or whatever? and her face? glowing. radiant. i tried it once and got a rash.”

you quietly nodded beside him, giving the cameras a blank expression like this was just your normal tuesday.

he kept tugging you in for selfies, making sure they got his good side where his jawline was razor sharp, while you stayed poker faced the whole time, slightly turned away by the dozens of desperate faces trying to get some material of michael kaiser and the new woman on his arm.

“god… i love how mysterious you are,” he whispered in your ear over the raving crowd. “like people are gonna think you’re a secret agent.”

“…i’m literally an accountant.”

“mm, yeah, schatz… the hottest accountant i’ve ever seen.”

he didn’t even look at the photographers when they asked for solo shots. just kept gazing at you like you were the only thing worth capturing.

ness had never liked eating out.

not because the food was bad, no, he’d happily devour three servings if you let him, but because he couldn’t stand the idea of other people talking to you. looking at you. breathing near you. especially men.

and today?

you were barely five minutes into your meal when a cheery waiter stopped by your table, leaning just a little too close for ness’s liking.

“would you like some ketchup with that?” the guy asked with a smile.

you didn’t think much of it, just nodded politely and said, “sure, thank you.”

but across from you… ness stiffened.

his fork hovered mid air, his eye twitching, lips pressed into a thin line. he didn’t say anything right away. just… stared down at his plate like it had killed his entire family.

you glanced over when he doesn’t react to your foot softly rubbing against his ankle. normally you’d get a ‘yippie!’, so it was a little concerning.

“lexis…what’s wrong?” you raise an eyebrow.

“…ketchup.” he muttered.

“huh?”

ness turned to you, his voice a dramatic whisper, “so that’s what you’re into now, huh? ketchup guys?”

you blinked. “…what.”

he pointed his fork accusingly. “he asked if you wanted ketchup. and you said yes. to him.”

“…because he asked?”

“but why him?” he leaned closer, narrowing his eyes. “if i asked, would you have said yes too? or was it his ketchup you wanted?”

you just stared. “alexis, he’s a waiter.”

ness huffed, angrily stabbing at the fries on his plate. “i’m watching you. and your stupid ketchup.”

he sulked the rest of the meal, still feeding you bites of his burger, still playing footsie’s with you under the table, but glaring daggers at the ketchup bottle like it personally insulted him.

and later that night, you found your phone filled with photos of you and ness under an album label “the mustard to my mayo <3”

nagi had a problem.

you had a shiny umbreon. his favorite. it sparkled, it looked cool, and worst of all, you wouldn’t trade it to him, no matter how many shitty common pokémon he tried to offer you for it.

“it’s my favorite. i evolved it at midnight on purpose.”

nagi, who was laying upside down on your couch with his phone resting on his face, mumbles out a small, “i need it though.”

you didn’t budge, and so… phase two began.

nagi turned into the laziest scammer known to man.

he’d send you trades labeled “ultra rare secret glitch ‘mon” with the sketchiest lineups. rattata, rattata, rattata, shiny magikarp (nicknamed ‘definitely umbreon 2.0’).

“you renamed a magikarp and thought i wouldn’t notice?”

he yawned, rolling onto his tummy. “worth a shot…”

he got more elaborate. once wore sunglasses and a fake mustache, made a fake trainer profile called “pokechoki” and messaged you from across the couch like

“hello i am collector of rare pokémon. would like your umbreon. will give 4 bidoof.”

you turned, deadpan, and nudged his thigh with your fuzzy gengar socks. “nagi, you’re in the same room as me.”

“huh? don’t know of this ‘nagi’ person. i’m seishiro.”

eventually, he climbed into your lap like a giant sleepy cat, nuzzled into your neck, and tried to guilt you with his classic, “if you loved me… you’d give me your umbreon…”

you didn’t fall for it.

but you did catch him later, holding your phone while you were brushing your teeth, trying to sneak trade himself the umbreon while you were distracted.

his defense?

“…is it really stealing if ‘what’s mine is yours’?”

isagi has been so strange lately.

you’re in the kitchen, scrolling through your phone and sipping your coffee when you hear a thud in the hallway.

“i’m okay!”

his voice echoes from somewhere down the corridor.

you raise an eyebrow, not even surprised anymore. your husband had been on a mission lately, a weird mission to prove that even though you’re already married, he’s still “hot husband material.”

his latest phase? doing push ups shirtless whenever you’re nearby. flexing his biceps whenever he opens a jar. winking dramatically when handing you anything.

today was worse.

he strides into the kitchen moments later, dressed in nothing but grey sweatpants and a face filled with determination. a towel thrown over his shoulder like he’s in a men’s health shoot.

“babe,” he grins, “check this out.”

he goes to do a one armed push up right then and there on the kitchen tile, except his hand slips, and he faceplants so fast it sounds like a cartoon slap.

you sit up straighter and raise an eyebrow.

“…honey.. are you okay?” you ask, holding back a laugh.

he stays face down on the floor for a second before mumbling, “still hot though… right?”

you roll your eyes fondly and get up to sit on the floor next to him, nudging him with your knee.

“…you’re lucky i already said ‘i do’.”

he peeks up at you, grinning with a busted ego and a red forehead. “i’d marry you again if it helps my case.”

you kiss his forehead and shake your head. “let’s just keep the seduction off the kitchen floor, yeah?”

reo always had expensive taste.

in cars, in watches, in clothes.

but his favorite luxury? you.

he spoiled you when you were just his high school girlfriend. snuck designer bracelets into your locker, filled your dorm with roses during exams, flew you out for weekend getaways like it was nothing. the other girls were jealous, always whispering, “what does she have that we don’t?”

reo never gave them the attention they wanted. he just kissed your cheek and made you show off the shiny chain around your neck.

now, years later, not much has changed. except you now wear a ring on your finger, and his last name behind yours.

you wake up to breakfast already made, gifts by the door “just because,” and his card in your hand with a small, “go get yourself something pretty.”

he comes home from practice and scoops you up into his arms like a lovesick idiot, still obsessed, still whipped.

and when you pout? even a little? he acts like it’s a national emergency.

“what do you want, baby? tell me. shoes? a trip? my kidney?”

reo’s love language has always been excess, and when it comes to you, there’s no such thing as too much.

girlfriend or wife, high school or forever, spoiling you was always part of the plan.

rin itoshi, even as a fully grown man, was still… rin itoshi.

he might’ve been a world class athlete now, a stoic genius on the field, cold and composed in interviews, but at home? at your home?

he was still that emotionally constipated, socially awkward, emo haired boy who never knew what to do with his hands.

he sat stiffly at your parents dinner table, trying not to breathe too loud, trying not to make eye contact with your dad, silently praying the chair would collapse and swallow him whole.

you, sitting beside him, casually spooning mashed potatoes onto your plate, looked as chill as ever. like you weren’t dining with two parents who were grilling your boyfriend with every polite smile and every “so, rin, what are your intentions?”

you kicked his ankle under the table.

“sit up straight.” you whispered.

he was slouching like he wanted to vanish into his hoodie. and the worst part? he wasn’t even wearing a hoodie. he was wearing a button up shirt, with sleeves, rolled up.

also, you had brushed his bangs behind his ear before dinner and told him he looked cute like that so now his emo fringe shield was gone and he had to make full eye contact with your mom while she passed him the salad bowl.

“thanks.” he mumbled, voice barely audible.

your mom blinked. “sorry, sweetheart?”

you leaned in. “he said thanks.”

rin looked like he was about to throw up from how clenched his jaw was. then, as the cherry on top, your dad broke the very uncomfortable silence and said, “you know, itoshi, she’s quite a handful. you sure you can handle her?”

and rin, already clinging to life by a thread, nodded stiffly and raised a glass of water to his lips.

you patted his back with the most innocent expression in the world. “oh come on, rin. don’t act like you don’t worship the ground i walk on.”

he glared at you. cheeks pink. ears red. small frown.

still the same awkward, emotionally stunted guy from his blue lock days.

but your fingers brushed his under the table, and you smiled at him softly. and maybe, maybe, he could handle dinner with your parents after all.

as long as you didn’t make him talk too much.

[einsatzzz]

MEL I NEED TO LET YOU KNOW THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVE QUOTES FROM BLEACH TOO (SHOUTOUT TO MY GIRLIE ORIHIME), I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THAT YOU USED IT FOR THEM ITS SO PERFECT‼️‼️‼️YAMADEKO THE WORLD‼️‼️‼️

If I were rain, That joins sky and earth that otherwise never touch, Could I join two hearts as well?

I'm done! it's a bit of a messy sketch, but still. it's my first time drawing yamadeko, and also my first time trying to draw in clip studio paint! i love it! but there's still a lot to learn, of course. i found a couple of brushes and decided to try them out, so here we go. also that quote from bleach is my favorite and i think it fits yamadeko well! and i want to say a huge thank you to everyone who wrote and drew on yamadeko today. it was a pleasure really, i can't describe it in words. i’m so lucky to have so many supportive friends around me!!

[pinkmoontaco]

Spotlight on Us || Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Idol Jihoon x Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: Jihoon and Y/N are forced to sit together at an award show, causing endless cheers, teasing, and viral moments. From sneaky glances to Woozi protectively covering Y/N with his blazer, the night is full of heart-fluttering chaos. When Jihoon tears up during his speech and sees Y/N crying too, it becomes clear—no matter how much they pretend, everyone knows. Feel free to make requests || M.list

Jihoon knew this would happen. He saw it coming from a mile away.

Yet, here he was, forced to sit beside you at an award show, and the crowd was absolutely losing it.

Seungcheol had nearly fallen over laughing when Jihoon realized where he had to sit. Jeonghan had patted his shoulder like a proud parent.

And now? Now, he was trapped.

The moment the camera panned over to your table, the cheers hit like a tidal wave. The entire venue shook with the sound of fans screaming their lungs out, and Jihoon could already see the headlines forming in real-time.

"Woozi and Y/N: Power Couple of the Century?"

"Woozi's Reaction to Sitting Next to Y/N is Priceless!"

"Destiny? Fate? Coincidence? We Think Not!"

He sighed, rubbing his temple as Seungcheol cackled beside him. "Hyung, it's like a concert in here," Dino whispered, wide-eyed.

Jihoon glanced at you, only to find you smirking. "Did you plan this?" he accused.

You feigned innocence, sipping your drink. "Me? I would never."

Liar.

The second the camera landed on your table, the screaming was deafening. The venue, which had been relatively calm just moments ago, erupted.

Jihoon fought every urge to groan as he kept his expression neutral, while you—completely unbothered—smiled and gave a polite wave. You were enjoying this way too much.

"Look at you," you teased, voice barely audible over the noise. "Are you blushing?"

Jihoon scoffed. "It's hot in here."

"Uh-huh, sure," you mused, nudging his knee under the table.

And then, as if things weren’t bad enough, the host on stage decided to make things worse.

"So, I think we have to talk about one of the most beloved pairings in the industry right now," the MC said, grinning. "Our audience is going crazy for these two—Woozi and Y/N, everyone!"

The camera panned right back to you both, a split screen of your reactions broadcasting to millions.

Jihoon shut his eyes. "Kill me."

Meanwhile, you? You blew a kiss to the camera.

The screams reached another level.

The members of Seventeen lost it. Seungcheol clapped like a seal. DK was howling. Jeonghan actually got out of his seat to dramatically bow in your direction, like you had just won an Oscar.

"You're enjoying this," Jihoon muttered, side-eyeing you.

"Oh, absolutely," you replied, resting your chin on your hand as if you lived for this moment.

His phone vibrated. Another message from Jeonghan.

[Jeonghan]: Just kiss on camera. I dare you.

Jihoon choked on air. You glanced at his phone and laughed. "What's he saying?"

"Nothing," he snapped, locking it immediately.

And then, it got even worse.

A special segment played—a montage of all the best collaborations of the year. And right there, in full HD, was a clip of you and Jihoon from a previous music show, standing way too close, exchanging small smiles.

It ended with a close-up of Jihoon watching you perform, eyes soft in a way that was damning.

The camera cut back to you both just in time to catch Jihoon covering his face with both hands.

Absolute pandemonium.

Even you were giggling now. "Wow, you really don’t help your case."

"I hate this," Jihoon grumbled into his hands.

You leaned in slightly. "Hate it enough to run away?"

Jihoon peeked at you through his fingers.

You smiled. The same smile that made his heart stutter every single time. The same smile that made him—despite all his complaining—stay exactly where he was.

Every time the camera even slightly panned in your direction, the audience roared in approval. At one point, the big screen accidentally caught Jihoon sneaking glances at you when you weren’t looking, and the fans lost it.

He knew the fancams would be everywhere by the time he got back to the dorms.

And then—disaster struck.

During a short intermission, you shifted slightly in your seat, adjusting your dress, when you realized—it was shorter than you thought.

The realization hit at the worst possible moment because, just as you moved, the camera cut back to your table.

You froze.

Jihoon noticed immediately. His sharp eyes flickered to you, then to the screen, and without thinking, he reached for something—his blazer.

With swift, natural movements, he leaned in and draped it over your lap, completely casual, like he had done it a million times before.

The camera caught everything.

A split screen showed Jihoon placing his blazer over you while you whispered a flustered, “Jihoon, what are you doing?”

"Just wear it," he muttered, pretending to focus on the stage.

Fans erupted.

Jeonghan burst into laughter, clapping his hands as if Woozi had just confessed on national television. Seungkwan gasped so dramatically that DK had to hold him back, and Mingyu was already on his phone, probably tweeting about it.

The big screen replayed the moment in slow motion, zooming in on Jihoon's effortlessly protective gesture.

Jihoon stiffened when he saw it. "You have got to be kidding me."

His phone blew up.

[Jeonghan]: ROMANTIC LEAD ENERGY!!!

[Mingyu]: Jihoon, OUR SWEETHEART???

[Hoshi]: THIS IS CRAZYYYYY

[Seungkwan]: GOODBYE, WORLD. THIS IS THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.

The captions wrote themselves.

"Lee Jihoon, the definition of boyfriend material."

"Woozi naturally protecting Y/N?? We are living in a fanfiction."

"When will my boyfriend be like this?"

Meanwhile, you were trying so hard to hold back your laughter. "Did you have to be so smooth about it?"

Jihoon cleared his throat. "It wasn’t smooth."

"You literally just gave me your blazer without blinking."

"Because you needed it," he huffed, crossing his arms.

You peeked up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. "…Thanks, Jihoon."

He looked away immediately, ears turning red. "Shut up."

Jihoon should have known the night wasn’t over yet.

After all the teasing, the chaotic fan reactions, and the never-ending camera zoom-ins, the moment had finally arrived—Seventeen’s category was being announced.

The entire group sat up straighter, hands clasped together, nervous energy crackling in the air. You could feel it from your seat beside Jihoon, his usually steady hands slightly curled into fists on his lap.

“And the winner is…”

The pause was agonizing.

"SEVENTEEN!"

The entire venue exploded.

Seventeen shot up from their seats, hugging each other tightly, overwhelmed with joy. Fans screamed, members cheered, and Jihoon—despite his usual composure—looked stunned.

You watched as Seungcheol pulled Jihoon into a tight hug, and that’s when you saw it—his eyes, glossy with tears.

The camera captured the moment perfectly. Jihoon, the man who poured his heart and soul into every note, every lyric, standing there, wiping at his eyes as the weight of everything hit him all at once.

And suddenly, your own eyes burned.

You covered your mouth with your hands, trying to hold back the emotions bubbling up inside you. You had seen Jihoon work himself to the bone, staying in the studio until dawn, striving for perfection in everything he did.

He deserved this. They all did.

Jihoon stood on stage, microphone in hand, staring out at the sea of fans and glowing lightsticks. The award sat heavy in his grasp, but not as heavy as the emotions swelling in his chest.

The cheers had barely died down when Seungcheol, ever the leader, began their speech—thanking the fans, the staff, the families, and everyone who had supported them.

But when the mic was passed to Jihoon, the crowd fell into an expectant hush.

Jihoon took a deep breath. “Um…” He let out a small chuckle, voice already wavering. “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry.”

The audience cheered, as if encouraging him to let it out.

Jihoon swallowed hard, gripping the microphone tighter. “This… this award means a lot. More than I can put into words. We’ve worked so hard, and to be standing here, receiving this, it still feels unreal.” He exhaled shakily, blinking rapidly, but the tears still escaped, rolling down his cheeks.

Seventeen members immediately reached for him—Jeonghan placing a hand on his back, Seungkwan nodding at him reassuringly. The crowd cooed, some fans already tearing up themselves.

The camera panned across the group, capturing their emotions, before shifting—straight to you.

Sitting at your table, eyes glassy with unshed tears, you watched Jihoon with nothing but pure admiration and pride. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the camera lingered on you, your lips pressed together to keep from outright sobbing.

And just like that, the entire venue reacted.

Fans screamed.

The members on stage noticed, and before Jihoon could even process what was happening, Jeonghan grabbed his shoulders and spun him around to face the screen.

There, clear as day, was you, wiping at your cheeks, eyes fixed on him like he was the most important person in the world.

Jihoon's face turned red instantly. He quickly turned back, covering his face with his sleeve, but it was too late.

Mingyu burst out laughing, Joshua clapped his hands like an excited kid, and even Seungcheol cracked up, patting Jihoon's back.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones crying,” Seungkwan teased into the mic, making the crowd go wild.

Jihoon groaned into his hands, but despite his embarrassment, he peeked up at the camera again—at you.

And in that moment, as he saw you smiling softly through your tears, he couldn’t even be mad.

Because no matter how much he pretended to ignore it, no matter how much he groaned when the cameras caught you both—deep down, he knew.

There was no one he’d rather share the spotlight with.

[bunnis-monsters]

jealous incubus husband. that’s all. go crazy

A/N: this is a request for my 5K event! I am doing ALL requests I get within the next 24 hours, send one while you can!

You had taken a whole 10 extra minutes to get home that day. What in the world could keep you away from him, your beautiful, adoring husband that LONG!?

“Hey baby, sorry I’m a little late. A friend of mine stopped me to catch up a little, he’s been out of-“

Your words went through one ear and out the other after he heard you say the word “he”.

“… he?”

Your incubus husband’s tail whipped furiously, smacking back and forth, hitting the floor and bed.

“Um… yes, he. As I was saying, he was out of town to-“

Within seconds your husband was on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head and glaring down at you. His dark purple eyes glowed as the sun set, his pupils becoming slits as his tail swayed behind him like he was a very displeased cat.

“I don’t much appreciate a male getting near my mate…”

He huffed, pouting a little as he sniffed at your neck. Though a male’s scent lingered, he knew any contact had been very brief.

And yet… he couldn’t stand it. You, his entire world that ruled his heart and owned his very soul had been near a male without him present.

He rubbed his scent on you, using his tail to pull your thighs apart so he could see that pretty pussy of yours.

There was a wet spot on your panties already, your eyes wide with arousal and confusion. “W-what’s gotten into you? Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“No… my wife was approached by a male and I wasn’t there… you’re my mate, you know? I have to protect you…”

The tip of his tail rubbed against your fat pussy, slipping under your panties to get at your clit. You let out a surprised moan, looking up at him with hazy eyes as he groped your tits. “Only I can do this, only I can make you feel this good…”

He kissed you, his saliva a natural aphrodisiac due to his incubus genes. You began to pant, bucking your hips into his.

It was strange, your husband was usually so soft and clingy, wanting you to play with his cock and ride him while giving him affection and praise for being so pretty… it seemed jealousy changed him quite a bit.

“Mine…”

He purred against the shell of your ear as sliced your panties with his claws, the head of his cock rubbing between your fat pussy lips.

“Mine, you got that? No one else gets to see you like this…”

Again, he pouted, his usual self shining through a little as he fucked into you. His cheeks were puffed out and he looked at you with such need it was palpable.

“I’m pretty, aren’t I? You only want me? Just me?”

He was desperate for your reassurance and approval, tears streaming down his face. “You’re all mine… and I wanna be all yours..”

You were struggling to think due to the strong aphrodisiac in your system, but showed your love by pulling him into a sloppy kiss, holding him as tight as your weakened body could.

He moaned into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as he sucked on your lip. “Baby… my baby…” you muttered, cupping his cheek and caressing it gently.

“Mmm…”

After a long night of love making and mood swings, your husband laid on the bed, curled up with you and wearing only his pink silk robe.

“So glad you’re my pretty little wife…”

You smiled, giggling as he held your chubby belly in his hand. “I am too…”

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y

[rafeys-angel13]

only here for her - “can we try again?”

- 1.1k words - masterlist - request a fic - part 1 -

summary: maisie becomes clingy and doesn’t want to go to rafe’s house, so he stays at yours instead.

maisie: 3 years old

writers notes: i miss my future daughter.

“come on mais, let’s get ready to go to dada’s house!” you call down the hall from her bedroom doorway. she runs down the hall giggling. then when she processes your words the stops in her tracks and her bottom lip quivers.

“what? what’s the matter, baby?” you chuckle softly and scoop her up, holding her on your hip. she whines and buries her face in your neck.

“dada’s house…” she mumbles and sniffles.

“yeah, you’re gonna go to dada’s house!” you smile and rub her back. she bursts out crying and her tiny fists grab your shirt, tears dampening it. “— oh… okay, we’re not happy about that, huh?” you try to look down but she won’t take her face out of your neck.

you sigh and walk into her room, you lay her on the floor and start changing her. she screams and kicks, her usually happy face now covered in tears.

“sweetheart… dada’s house is fun…” you poke her belly, trying to ignore the pang in your chest at her sobbing.

“no.” she pouts and crosses her arms.

“you’re silly, babe” you kiss her head and help her up, pulling her into your lap. you try not to make too much of a fuss over her, because if you do she just cries harder.

the doorbell rings and her grip gets impossibly tighter. you stand up, carrying her downstairs and opening the front door.

rafe’s smile immediately drops as he hears maisie’s crying. he looks between you two a frowns.

“what happened?” he asks worriedly.

“i don’t think she’s too keen on going to your house…” you try to tell him as nicely as possible, you don’t want it to be an insult.

“oh… uh- why?” he brings a finger to his mouth and bites his nail as he looks at maisie’s flushed face.

“i don’t think it’s anything personal, she’s just a little… clingy at the moment…” you tell him as you bounce maisie gently.

“oh…”

“you can come in, maybe she’ll calm down if she sits with you for a little while…?” you suggest, walking towards the living room.

rafe shuts the door behind him and follows you, he sees the toys all over the living room and smiles to himself. he’s always been jealous of how homey your house is compared to his.

you sit maisie down on the floor next to her dollhouse, she looks up at you with a small pout— her bottom lip still quivering.

“play with your dolls, sweetheart…” rafe says softly with a smile and maisie picks up a doll, mumbling to herself.

you sit down on the couch, bringing your legs to your chest, pulling a blanket over yourself. rafe settles next to you too and looks over to you.

“you’re an amazing mother, you know…” he smiles softly. you smile softly and shake your head. his eyebrows furrow slightly and he nods, leaning closer. “— yes you are.” he reaffirms, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“a good mom would be able to stop her daughter from crying because she doesn’t want to do something.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. he grabs your chin, turning your head to look at him. he looks you in your eyes.

“so what if she doesn’t want to do something. she seeks comfort in you and that’s why she knows she can cling onto you and cry to you when she’s uncomfortable.” he tells you firmly, never breaking eye contact.

“i guess…” you respond, your smile getting wider and your cheeks flushing.

his eyes linger on your face for a second, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“you’re still as pretty as the day i met you…” he murmurs. your heart rate picks up as his fingers squeeze your cheeks slightly, he bites his lip and his eyes flicker down to your mouth.

“thanks…” you smile with a small chuckle.

“i know i messed up. i know i was toxic— and it was so stupid of me to fumble you…” he continues the eye contact, moving his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. “— i miss you…”

your hands are clenched together, your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“i miss you too…” you sigh, admitting that went against everything you said you weren’t going to do— but it’s the truth.

he smiles widely and opens his arms for you, you immediately wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck.

“i miss you so much my heart hurts when i see your face…” he kisses your cheek. “— i wish we never broke up…” tears brim your eyes as you nuzzle into his neck.

“can we try again?” you mumble and he pulls you into his lap, squeezing you tight.

“please…” he nods, a small tremble in his voice. you pull your face away from his neck to see him smiling. he rests his forehead against yours and nudges your nose with his. “— i was stupid to let you walk out. pregnant too. so fucking stupid.” he squeezes you tighter and presses a soft kiss to your lips which you return.

suddenly, you hear a small shriek from maisie. you both turn to see her stood with a huge smile on her face.

“mama and dada!” you squeals and claps her hands.

“come here, princess” rafe chuckles and picks her up, setting her in between you two as you sit on his lap. you press a kiss to her forehead and she giggles.

“her moodswings are worse than yours” he chuckles and ruffles her hair. you raise your eyebrows and he immediately stops laughing. “— sorry” he smirks, giving your waist a squeeze.

later that night, you had put maisie down to sleep and then made your way back downstairs. you crawl into rafe’s lap like you used to and he hugged you tightly, kissing your head.

“i’ve missed this…” rafe murmurs, still keeping his eyes on the tv. you smile and look up at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. he returns the kiss on your temple and rests his forehead against yours.

“i never stopped loving you… every time you came to pick maisie up, i always got annoyed that you weren’t here for me…” you tell him, your cheeks flushing when you realise how pathetic you sound.

“well, you did a good job hiding it…” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. you smile, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck.

“i love you…” you whisper, looking over his expression to see how he’d take it. his smile becomes bigger and he chuckles.

“what? you think i don’t love you too?” he chuckles at your worried expression. “i love you, sweetheart… i never stopped loving you.”

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

junior.

synopsis: holding your child for the first time is always the first step to becoming a good parent. and…what now?

ft; itoshi rin, mikage reo, barou shouei

a/n: my tiktok is cryinggirlnamedhelen with a thanos pfp from squid game season 2. follow me if you want to.

itoshi rin

rin didn’t know how to feel about the cries and yells inside of the delivery room.

it wasn’t common for husbands in japan to stay with his wife during labor, so rin waited outside, pacing around with beads of sweat rolling down his temple. sae and rin’s parents sat on one of the benches while your parents sat on another, hands clasped together and mumbling prayers.

god, rin wasn’t even this nervous during the finals at the world cup.

stupid isagi and bachira had begged to come, and when they came, they just kept on asking what rin’s thoughts were on some stupid names for the baby that they had come up with. rin had shooed them away, and the two were now in the cafeteria, getting food for you when you would finally be done with the painful labor.

rin’s palms began to sweat; why was it taking so long? was it really normal for you to be screaming bloody murder in there? rin didn’t like hearing you in pain, not at all. each of your yelps and cries felt like a stab to rin’s heart. if he could be in there and stay by your side, he would in a heartbeat. but the doctors didn’t want him to be there, and rin trusted the doctors more than himself.

and finally, the high pitched cries of a baby erupted.

everyone stood up, and isagi and bachira came just in time with mountains of food on each plate that they held. the moment a doctor came out of the door with a smile, rin sprinted through the door and kneeled down by your side.

he placed a hand over yours, your skin pale and your breaths shallow, although to rin, you still looked like an angel. “rin. he’s healthy. he’s got your lashes.” a shaky smile made way to your lips before a doctor gently handed rin your newborn baby.

a tuft of dark green—almost black—hair was atop his head, and long underlashes that has been in the itoshi family for generations made way onto his eyes. rin felt his chest tightening, and his eyes began to water.

why did he feel so prideful of someone who he had just met?

the baby boy’s eyes opened; a bright teal, the color of sea glass. rin stiffened; was his kid going to cry? was rin holding him too tightly? did he fail at a father already?

but the small boy just smiled up at rin.

rin’s eyes gleamed, tears glossing over his turquoise irises like the most expensive porcelain china. “hey,” rin whispered softly. rin smiled gently when his son giggled softly. “you must’ve recognized my voice from when i used to talk to you through your mom’s stomach, huh? your mom’s amazing, she just delivered you through so much effort.” isagi and bachira stared from the doorway with their jaws dropped, although isagi’s eyes soon softened.

rin didn’t know why he loved this child so much. he didn’t know why a smile crawled to his lips the moment he saw him. he didn’t know why he felt the need to protect him forever. it scared him a little, but rin knew this feeling well, and he welcomed it.

after all, it was how rin felt when he had first met you.

mikage reo

reo once again winced at the sound of your screams, holding in even more tears and begging that your pain will end soon. once again, he asked his butlers and secretary the same thing as a few minutes again. “is everything there? her favorite foods? her favorite video games and snacks? her favorite movies? that one drink that the nurse recommended that was good for women who just gave birth?”

nagi, who was sitting on one of the benches and was dragged here by reo, replied tiredly, tapping away at his console. “reo, we just checked 3 minutes ago. they’re all here. even your butlers seem tired of this.” reo sent him a glare.

“reo, honey, you should sit. the nurses didn’t want you in there for a reason.” reo’s mother’s attempts at coaxing him were weak, and reo wouldn’t budge from his position standing right next to the door of the delivery room. “they knew that your crying during her pain would distract them.”

reo ignored his mom’s words. he had even tried bribing the nurses into letting him in before realizing that he really would just be a hindrance to deal with in the middle of trying to deliver a baby. a crying husband probably wasn’t a good addition to a screaming and wife.

suddenly, the screaming became higher pitched, more wet, more…alive.

your daughter was born.

without needing any confirmation from the doctors, reo shoved the door open and ran in, sitting on the chair right next to your bed that was placed by the doctor who had cleverly predicted his intrusion. “love, are you okay? does it still hurt? are you hungry? tired? how are you feeling? do you—“

“reo, im okay. thank you. and…” you weakly gestured to the nurse who held your baby wrapped in a bundle of purple blankets. instantly, reo stood up and took the baby into his arms, his eyes brimming with warmth.

“she looks just like you. she’s just as beautiful as her mom.” reo whispered, sitting on the chair again and gently cooing at his newborn daughter. he gently tickled her cheek with his pointer finger, and she giggled. reo’s heart melted and his eyes began to water again before he sniffled. “you’re like an angel. both you and your mom.”

reo’s parents walked in, discussing something about the future heir of the company, although reo ignored them for now. he’ll have to talk to them about how he wanted his daughter to follow her own path at another time. but for now, he just wanted to value this beautiful moment with his wife and newborn daughter.

nagi walked in, reading the room and shoving his gaming console into his jean pocket. he walked to you. “reo panicked a lot, and you screamed a lot. was it really that bad?” at your weak nod, nagi’s eyes widened a little bit. “wow. im suddenly really glad im not a woman.” a glare was sent from both reo and a few nurse.

reo glanced down at his daughter again, and his eyes softened, as if his daughter were the most precious thing in the world. “i love you so much.”

reo barely even knew this newborn girl for a few minutes, but she was always tied for the most beloved person in his heart: tied with you.

barou shouei

barou grew up with two younger sisters. he tolerated and loved them through temper tantrums, periods, puberty, boy heartbreak, and girl problems. he’s been changing their diapers, teaching them how to walk, feeding them, and cooking for them ever since they were infants.

so why was he so nervous about his own daughter, who was soon to be born?

barou didn’t tremble as he waited outside of the door, nor did he cry when he heard your wails and moans of unease. however, he was awfully stiff and overly snappy, even for barou. even when his beloved sisters tried to talk to him to ask about you and your soon to be born daughter, barou was practically already yelling.

when barou’s mother tried to calm him, barou couldn’t bring himself to reply, knowing that he would say rude things that he would regret later on to his own mother. he’d rather not risk it, and instead just nodded, trying to believe that you’re okay in there and that you’re trying your best, which he knows you are.

when the wails of a newborn baby daughter reached barou’s ears, he pushed open the door without even using the handle and instantly stood by your side.

“are you okay? was it too bad?” barou knew that he was being weirdly gentle, but how could he not when his wife just gave birth? you were pale, panting, and beads of sweat rolled down your face and neck, but you were still drop dead gorgeous in barou’s opinion.

“no, not at all.” you whispered. “you know what they said? they said that she’s one of the healthiest they’ve ever seen, maybe the the healthiest. you really did spoil and pamper me during the pregnancy, huh?”

“well, what else was i supposed to do? mistreat you? im not heartless.” a nearby nurse offered barou to hold his daughter, in which he accepted. same colored hair as him, and when she looked up, the same ruby red eyes as him. only difference? her eyes were soft and full of warmth like yours.

barou didn’t think that anything could ever be more perfect than you, but maybe he just found a tie.

[cordidy]

Just needed to get this out of my head after Sylus's Myth so i hope you like it :)

TW : drunk MC, fluff, it's sad I guess ? No proof read cause i'm a savage, english is not my mother tongue

“......tail ?” 

“What did you just say kitten ?” Sylus asked, gently patting the back on your thigh while steadying you on his shoulder as you exited the elevator together, .

At first he had been quite surprised to receive your call.

Even more so when you bluntly asked him if he would be ok playing bodyguard and keep an eye on you while you indulged in a night of carefree debauchery at the club but hey, who was he to judge ? 

Besides, if you felt safe enough to be in such a vulnerable state around him, going as far as trusting him with your safety and your apartment key to make sure you would make it back safe and sound, he was not going to complain.

“I….I said…ooooh that spins…do…do you ever miss your tail ?” you repeated, your voice tired and slurred, words barely comprehensive despite your best effort.

Sylus couldn’t help the chuckle that came as you poked his lower back through his jacket.

You really were wasted…

But you had a good reason !

Your week has been shitty as hell.

Your nights were even worse lately, barely getting a couple hours of sleep only to wake up either with a sore throat, screaming or crying at something you could not recall.

And, on top of that, you were off duty as Zayne decided you needed a break and refused to sign your abilitation.

“Come on Zayne, look, I’m fiiiiiiiiine” you tried to convince him with a huge smile and so much concealer on your face you could open your own makeup shop.

“As your physician I cannot let you go on field with such results” he retorted not even looking away from your chart “You should be dead with such a high blood pressure”

“I’m a tough cookie !”

“And you’re going to have to stay in the jar until these get better. You’re not only a danger for yourself right now but also for your partner”

That was a low blow but he had a point.

Clearly, you needed a break, something to unplug your brain, something fun, a good night out to leave all your problems behind and get shitfaced to oblivion. What you did not need though was the unwanted attention a young woman alone at the club would probably get and, while you were very capable of handling those kinds of situations, you did not really want to have to be on the lookout constantly or end up in a cell for assault.

You tried Tara, back to her family for the Holidays.

Simone ? Night shift.

Xavier….doing God knew what God knew where….

So, with a heavy heart you picked up your phone and called your secret weapon…

“Not necessary,” Sylus finally answered in a calm, composed voice, as he opened your apartment door, being extra careful as to not bump you in the doorframe. Based on the current humming coming from you right now and your kicking feet, your head was already going to kill you tomorrow.

Better not add “commotion” to the list of your impending issues.

“To be honest, being half human half cat was quite annoying” he admitted, walking you toward your bedroom to tuck you into bed. “I don’t like not being in control of myself and beside, it was bad for business to be away from the N109 zone for so long...although…I kind of enjoyed having to hide here and spend time with you…” he added with his signature smirk, poking your side before tossing you onto the bed, making you giggle like an idiot as you plopped on your back. It was the first time you allowed him into your room and, although he did plan on being a gentleman despite what you could think of him when sober, he couldn’t help the loving smile on his face as he watched you mumble something about a potato bag while fighting with your plushies for room.

“I miss you tail” you retorted in your drunk voice, closing your eyes in hopes it would help with the dizziness while Sylus started to remove your shoes and socks.

“I quite remember you telling me how insufferable it was” the man said in a collected tone while making his way to the kitchen once he was done. 

“Yeah but it was sooooo pretty…I miss how you used it to grab me with it and…and toss me around ! That was funny !” you laughed, mimicking being tossed around like a ragdoll in the middle of your plushies as Sylus was coming back in your room, a glass of water in his hand.

He stopped in his tracks, a puzzled look on his face.

“I never use my cat tail to...toss you around” he corrected. His Evol, yeah, on a daily basis at some point actually, just to annoy you and enjoy those little lovely sounds coming from your mouth, threats mostly.

He had not been able to use it at all during the time those damn kittens from Hell had turned him into one of them though.

Your foggy brain did not hear him though and just kept mumbling in your drunken state, propping yourself on your elbows, trying to focus your gaze on him.

“You would think scales are cold and harsh…” you started, raising a finger to look all serious before falling back onto your pillow, not registering the look of surprise on his usually steady face.

“Kitten wh…” his voice was faltering as he looked at you getting all comfy like you had not just shaken his world upside down with your words.

“...but it was sooooo soft and sooooo warm…” you continued, grabbing your pillow to hold on tight as if you were looking for said warmth. 

Your voice was starting to fade as sleep was settling in.

“...felt safe when you wrapped it around me…I kept holding mine to sleep after…but…”

The glass in his hand fell to the ground, shattering as he froze in place, eyes wide open in shock. 

“…it was not…not the same…” you mumbled before losing consciousness, your body going limp against your pillow, before starting to snore.

______________________________________________________________ Pssssst, you liked it ? P2 is already up here :) https://www.tumblr.com/cordidy/770227784125677568/a-few-days-ago-i-wrote-this?source=share