#ask a buddy to beta read it instead

[trackerkitsune]

"chatgpt helped me write this!"

"beta read by chatgpt"

"translated by chatgpt"

Are you fucks *insane*

Chatgpt makes shit up on the fly and will fuck with your words no end

It does not know the proper grammar to translate into other languages and will bullshit you harder than a billionaire

STOP THAT

[navybrat817]

Late Night Shenanigans

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky searches for Alpine when she gets out one night and finds her curled up with you.

Word Count: Over 1.6k

Warnings: Drunk reader with no filter and Alpine likes her, bit of grumpy!Bucky, humor, attraction, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: @starlightcrystalline sent me this IG video and I had to do something for her. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was going to kill Sam. No, not really. He wasn’t a cold-hearted killer. Just because Sam hadn’t shut the door fast enough didn’t mean it was his fault that Alpine ran out. Accidents happened, and she was lightning fast. It still stunned Bucky and Steve when Sam shouted that she got out because she hadn’t taken off like that before. Super soldier speed hadn’t worked since she was gone by the time Bucky got to the front of his place. 

They split up to look for her, and he didn’t want to wake anyone up since it was late, but he was worried since Alpine had gone past his neighborhood. She was his little buddy, his kindred spirit. He wanted her to be okay. He didn’t want her to get lost or hurt.

“Alpine?” he asked, rounding a corner and looking around. His shoulders dropped when he didn’t spot her. “C’mon, Al.”

He went down another block when he heard an unfamiliar voice in the distance, his body going stiff. “Oh, my GOD. You are seriously the cutest cat EVER.” Was this stranger talking about his cat? “Your fur is as white as snow and so soft. OOH. Is your name Snowball?”

“Snowball?” he muttered, jogging in the direction of your sweet voice. Wait, why did he think your voice was sweet?

“You’re a little purr machine! I just want to take you home and cuddle with you and keep you FOREVER.”

“Oh, no, you fucking don’t,” Bucky snarled, rounding another corner. He didn’t care how sweet you sounded. You were talking about possibly stealing his cat, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

He sighed in relief when he saw Alpine before his brows furrowed. She was curled up in your lap as you sat in the middle of the sidewalk. He had to blink to be sure his eyes were working correctly. Alpine never took to strangers like that. She liked Steve and Sam, but it still took her time to warm up to them.

Shooting them a text to let them know he found Alpine, he wondered who you were and why she was snuggling with you. 

“Al.” He whistled as he jogged the rest of the way over. Instead of jumping out of your lap like he expected, she curled into you more and purred. Maybe you had some sort of special power that made his cat relax. 

You tilted your head up and Bucky forgot how to breathe for a second. Even under the harsh light of the sidewalk lamp you were beautiful. Fuck, maybe you had some sort of special power over him, too. “Hi!” you said a little too loudly, like you didn’t have a clue how late or quiet it was. Inhaling, he could smell the alcohol on your breath from where he stood. Jesus, were you drunk? “Hooooooooe, my God. You are the hottest man I have ever seen in my life. Just… ” You waved a hand at him. “Holy fucking shit.”

He was thankful that it was either too dark for you to see or you were too drunk to notice the pink in his cheeks. Not to mention, he was in jeans and a black t-shirt. He hardly looked hot. “You’re drunk, but thanks for the compliment,” he stated, reaching out for Alpine who stubbornly stayed put. Seriously, what was her deal? She didn’t know you. He didn’t know you.

“Annnnd I’ll be sober when I wake up tomorrow, but you’ll still be really hot. That’s totally not fair.” You giggled after a moment and held Alpine up to look at him. “Isn’t he hot? Like a model or a god or something made up in a lab.” You tilted your head. “Or my dreams.”

Bucky frowned, as if he didn’t talk to his cat on a regular basis. He was trying to ignore that you were clearly physically attracted to him. That wasn’t the usual reaction people had when he came around. Not in today’s age at least. His glare didn’t even phase you since you continued to smile at him. “Al’s a cat. She can’t-”

“Meow.”

Your lower lip trembled and he feared you’d burst into tears. He had no clue what to do if you cried. “I’m soooo sorry. I didn’t know she was your cat. I swear.” His eyes widened when you tried to get to your feet, his hands going to your hips to help steady you. He was reluctant to let you go, and he felt like an ass because he probably scared you. “She just came right up to me and I only wanted to pet her for a minute.”

Your smile turned into something triumphant. “See, she agrees with me,” you said, rubbing your cheek against Alpine’s before you gasped. “Wait, you called her by a name. Do you know her?”

Bucky let out a breath, wanting to get back home and get some sleep. He had had a long day. “Yeah, she’s my cat and she got out a bit ago. Could you please give her back so I can go home?”

Bucky kept a hand on your hip when Alpine finally moved into his other arm. He felt better, but wouldn’t relax completely until he was at home. “It’s okay. I’m glad she did,” he said honestly. Because Alpine went to you, it made it much easier to find her. “Wait a second.”

“What?” you asked, making him lose his breath again when you looked him in the eyes.

He had to blink a few times and snap himself out of his stupor. What was wrong with him? “Why the hell are you out here by yourself?” he asked, trying to keep his anger in check when he took in your outfit. He was so concerned about Alpine that he didn’t clock right away that you were in a semi-revealing black dress. It was gorgeous, and that kind of look could attract all sorts of attention. Even if you weren’t drunk and all alone, the thought of someone taking advantage of you made his blood boil.

You nodded to the building beside you. “My place is RIGHT there, but it’s soooo sweet that you care about my wellbeing.” 

“Which apartment?” he asked. 

“Okay, you may be really hot and I may be drunk, but I don’t know you, so I’m not telling you my apartment number.” You wrinkled your nose. “That’s how true crimes start.”

He snorted before he could stop himself. At least you were smart enough not to tell him. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re alone out here.”

“My friends and I were celebrating a birthday at the bar a few blocks away and the birthday girl wanted to play drinking games and my luck was terrible tonight since I kept losing, or I guess winning if you count drinking as winning?” you explained, shaking your head. “Anyway, my sober friend dropped me off, but your cat walked over before I could go inside,” you continued, smiling and scratching behind her ears. At least you hadn’t walked home alone. “And it would’ve been rude of me to ignore little Snowball.”

“Her name’s Alpine,” he corrected you, but there was warmth in his tone instead of annoyance.

“My apologies, Queen Alpine.” You booped Bucky on the nose. “And what is your name?”

Bucky blinked and blinked again. He couldn’t believe you just booped him. If Steve and Sam had seen that… “It’s Bucky.”

You didn’t react to his name, simply giving him your name, too. “Do people call you ‘Buck’?” you giggled. “Because Buck rhymes with-”

“I think you should get inside,” he cut you off. “And make sure you drink some water and have some aspirin waiting beside you when you wake up.”

“Awwwwwwwwwww. You really do care about my wellbeing,” You leaned into him, stars in your eyes. “You’re a good man. I can tell.”

Bucky cleared his throat. Why would you think he was a good man? “Well, if Al likes you, you can’t be all bad.”

“I can be bad if you want me to,” you whispered exaggeratedly and winked. “Sorry, I have no filter when I drink.”

“Yeah, I sensed that,” he deadpanned. It was kind of refreshing. “Do you always flirt with strange men like this?” he asked, feeling a surge of jealousy for no reason.

“Just you, stranger,” you answered. He believed you only because you seemed too sweet to lie. “Thanks for being nice and letting me snuggle with your cat.”

You had to be drunk to say he was nice. “I’m a grump.”

You booped his nose again. “Whatever you say, Mr. Grump,” you said, giving Alpine one last pet. “See you later, Alpine.”

The meow Alpine let out sounded so sad it almost broke Bucky’s heart. “It’s late, Al. She needs rest, and so do we.”

“Night night!” you called back, somehow managing to walk in a straight line up the building door. “Sweet dreams!”

“What if Al wants to see you again?” he asked. 

You paused and smiled over your shoulder. “If you want to see me again, I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

As tempting as it was to ask for your number or give him yours, you were drunk. You’d probably forget all about him in the morning. Besides, you might have a boyfriend. So he held Alpine closer and watched you go inside, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

“You gave me a real scare, Al,” he said, walking away as Alpine looked back at the building. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll see her again.”

For Alpine’s sake, he hoped they’d see you again.

And for his own sake, he hoped you were single.

Had to be done, lovelies! When and where will he see you again? See what happens next with Late Night Recap. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[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.

[tbaluver]

Hewoo! I'm so so soo weak for your family fluff headcanons aaa can I request a scenario of the little kiddies of LADS men sneaking off with reader's phone and made a video call to their papas because they've been away from home and/or simply making a silly video call to brighten up their papas day? 🥺���🏻

˗ˏˋ Incoming Baby Call!˗- The Love And DeepSpace Men

featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb genre: fluff fluff summary: your child(ren) sneak off with your phone to call them a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ WAHHH THANK YOU MWAH i love writing them as dads like i fear i want no husband as long as its them .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. this one is not beta read so i apologize for any mistakes! i have so much wip of them as papas that i hope to post soon <3 anyways i hope i did this request with justice ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ i hope you enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier was exhausted and hungry, his mission dragging on longer than he’d hoped. He couldn’t wait to get back home, pick up some dinner for his family, and finally relax. He couldn’t wait to wrap up this mission and be back home with you both.

Just as he refocused on tracking the wanderer, a soft ringtone caught his attention. Without a second to spare, he answered once he saw your name flash through his screen. But instead of you, his little boy appeared instead holding his plushie-shaped cookie.

“Hi, little buddy.” Xavier smiles softly. His son, as usual, flashes a cute peace sign in front of the camera. It was a little habit he did whenever there was a camera around and it’s a habit that you both hope he’d never outgrow.

“Papa,” his son whispers, holding up the tiny plushie to the screen as if he were offering it to him.

“Are you offering me a bite?” Xavier asked, playing along as his son nodded eagerly. “Thank you. It tastes great,” He adds, pretending to chew thoughtfully and giving a mock critic nod. “I think we should get more of these.”

It warmed Xavier’s heart to see his son share food even through the screen. Perhaps it’s something he’d watched you both share meals often and picked up on it. “Don’t forget to share with mommy too, okay?” His son nods enthusiastically, his chubby cheeks puffing out. “By the way, where is mommy?”

His son placed a finger to his lips to quietly shush him as he tilted the phone to the side, revealing you peacefully napping close to him, a plushie tucked under your arm. Xavier chuckles softly, not wanting to disturb you.

“Alright, let’s keep it quiet so we don’t wake mommy up okay?” He whispers, “If you take a nap now, I’ll be home before you know it.”

His son nods sleepily as he snuggles up closer to you. Even in such a small and simple moment, Xavier couldn't help but feel grateful. It reminded him just how lucky he was to come home to a family with so much love.

Zayne:

It was another busy night at the hospital. Multiple reports to go through before checking up on several other patients who are waking from surgery in a few hours. Another stressful night, but he’ll manage like he always does. Just as he was about to settle down in his seat, he checked his phone.

11 missed calls

Concern floods his body as he immediately calls you, only to find your baby daughter on the other end. “Papa!” She coos, her sweet little smile makes him feel slightly relieved. 

“Hi my love, where is Mommy?”

“in the bafroom,” She replies casually, his heart easing. That would be correct, her snowman pajamas tell him that you both should be getting ready for bed right about now. “Papa! I miss you..Are you going home now?” She pouts into the screen and Zayne only chuckles into the camera, adjusting his glasses. 

“Not yet my love.” He says softly, her pout deepening further. “I’m sorry but it seems that I’ll be here for a while.” His heart twinges at his own words. As much as he hates to disappoint his daughter, he knows this is a part of his job, something she’ll understand better as she grows older.

“But whyyy? Can’t you work here instead? You look tired papa.” She whines with pleading eyes, hoping this time she can make her father come home early again. 

He chuckles, he must’ve heard you both talking about his reports in the morning and mistaken it for something like homework. “Not tonight my love. Unfortunately, some patients need me right now”

She pouts, her head turning away, and he can’t help but feel worried. Did he upset her? He would hope not, he would want her to sleep well tonight. Maybe he should come home early or he can make it up by getting secret sweet treats together again.

“Papa, how about I read you a book then?” She asks, breaking his thoughts. She held up a book that she’s been practicing with. Maybe she noticed the bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep and is trying to cheer him up in her own little way.

“Of course,” A smile tugs on his lips as he adjusts the phone so he can hear her better. She opens the book, sounding out each word with Zayne occasionally helping her with the tricky ones. His heart swells as he watches her, she’s already growing up so fast.

She stops reading when he hears your voice in the background, asking her what she’s doing. “I’m talking to papa, mommy! I’m reading to him right now” You chuckle, thinking she was talking to a picture of him on your phone again but don’t realize she’d manage to call him this time.

“Sorry, Zayne! We can call you another time!” You quickly grab the phone to see your handsome husband’s face on the screen. You know at this hour isn’t his break but before you can say anything more, Zayne gently cuts you off.

“No, it’s fine. Stay, please. Let her keep going. I haven’t taken my break yet anyway.” His voice softens with a chuckle when he hears her cheer in the background. You smile, adjusting the phone and settling her on your lap. Together, you both help her continue reading her story before you say your goodnight’s.

Rafayel:

Boredom isn’t even the word to cover it. Rafayel felt tired, drained, from the endless back and forth conversations with multiple collectors, sucking away all the energy from him. The more he conversed with them, the heavier his eyelids became. He wanted to yawn, to make it clear how uninterested he was in their never-ending rambling. However, if he did, Thomas would surely give him an earful later or worse another due date for another art project.

He glanced around the room, jealousy gnawing at him as he watched a group of an artist's family admiring art together. He wished you and the kids were here with him. He would’ve had you here if he hadn’t procrastinated to accept the invite, the room’s capacity was already maxed out and the lists of invites were soon closed.

As the collector rambled on, Rafayel could feel his eyes slowly drooping, surely soon enough the glass in his hands would drop. Luckily, just when he thought he might lose the last bit of focus, his phone ringing caught his and the collector’s attention.

“Excuse me, it’s my wife.” The collector nodded, walking away, giving Rafayel the perfect opportunity to slip into a private bathroom.

As soon as he answered the phone, his heart lifted. On the screen were his little bundles of joy. “My little glubs!” A wide grin spread across his face, his eyes lighting up as the kids' tiny smiles beamed back at him. “What are you guys doing? Where’s Mama?" He asks, tilting his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of you through the screen.

“She’s cleaning!” One of the kids chirped, earning a playful shushing from her siblings. Rafayel chuckled, they had definitely taken your phone again.

“Papa, can you come home now? We’re bored and we miss you!” Their pleas echoed from each other, hoping he could understand that they really missed him. His heart ached, he could practically feel their tiny arms reaching out to him through the phone.

“Just a couple more hours and I’ll be home, I promise. Then we can play all night long, yeah?” He raised a brow, tilting his head.

“No Daddy! We made something for you!” One of them piped up, excitement bubbling in his voice.

“Yeah! We made our own art...ex..exa? examission?” The word came out cute, and Rafayel’s sure he meant to say was exhibition. Rafayel didn’t know yet but they had planned to surprise him with their own little art show that you were secretly setting up in the living room. You figured it would be a good idea to cheer him up after a long day without his family. However, you didn’t know the kids would take your phone while they ran off to go ‘play’.

“Papa, you have to come soon or else we’ll close!” His youngest insisted. Raf smiled, realizing this was one of their clever little ways of getting him to hurry home before they had to go to bed.

He paused for a moment, tapping his finger on his chin. His kids waited in anticipation, a playful grin spreading across his face as an idea sparked in his head. “Got it!” He said, snapping his fingers. “I’m coming home now!” The sounds of cheerful giggles erupted on the other side of the line.

Rafayel quickly exits out of the bathroom, Thomas follows behind closely while he asks where does he thinks he's going. Rafayel mentioned briefly that he had another art exhibition that was way more important than this one, making it enough to leave Thomas confused and stop in his tracks.

Sylus:

There’s nothing more infuriating when the tradesmen don’t want to cooperate even if they’re tied up. They whine and complain but the moment they realize no one’s listening, they cry out for help. But before their pleas can even form properly, Sylus silences them with a single look, fear flickering across their faces.

“One moment,” He says, raising an index finger to quiet them. Everyone's attention shifts to his ringtone, a melody of a childish tune unexpectedly playing from the speakers. The tradesmen freeze, exchanging confused glances at each other.

“Bossman said one moment!”

“Yeah, one moment!” Luke and Kieran chimed in, nodding as they let Sylus step away

Sylus taps the green button, his brow furrowing as he sees your name and contact photo flash on the screen. A wave of concern washes over him, did something happen while he was away? But that worry disappears when he sees his daughter's bright, familiar face light up on his screen.

“Daddy!! Hi daddy hiii!!” She chirps, waving excitedly at him.

“Hello, my little dove. What’s going on? Are you and Mommy alright?” He feels the tension in his shoulders ease when she nods rapidly, her little pigtails that you tied bouncing up and down. His heart melted at the sight of her, she looked almost identical to him, with white hair and red eyes yet her personality reminded him so much of yours.

“She’s in the kitchen,” She whispers as if she was sharing a secret. He assumes that she’s taken your phone in secret again. It should be fine, he has taught her to use the phone for emergencies. This wouldn’t count as much as one but he needed to take a step away before he caused one. “Papa, are you okay?” Sylus pauses, taken aback by just how perceptive she is. Perhaps it’s the vein on his forehead that’s threatening to pop. She’s sharp just like her mother.

He exhales deeply. “It’s just a rough night sweetie.”

Her brows furrowed with concern and her pout deepened, pitying her father. How she wished to hug him through the screen. “Papa, how about I sing you a song!” She offers, earning another soft chuckle from Sylus. He always sings her to sleep or cheers her up with a song so it’s no wonder she picked up the habit from him.

“Go ahead, my dove.”

Her vocals were very much like her father’s. When she spots his grin, her confidence grows, making her sing even louder.

“Make it stop!” One of the tradesmen suddenly screams, his voice cracking in desperation. “I’ll give you whatever you want- just please make it stop!” He cries, making Sylus’s ears twitch, the vein in his forehead threatening to make a reappearance.

“Papa, what was that?” She asks, tilting her head innocently.

“I think it was your audience dear. They seemed to enjoy your performance.” Her face immediately lights up, letting out a gleeful cheer.

“Can you give me a moment sweetie? I’ll be right back,” He quickly mutes the call and shuts off the camera. Quickly he extracts the necessary information before the men are lifted from the ground, their feet dangling helplessly in the air as red tendrils swirl around them. Despite their begs and cries, they vanished into thin air, leaving the room finally quiet.

With the problem dealt with, Sylus flips his phone back on. He hears your daughter’s cheerful greeting from the other end of the call, her innocent enthusiasm makes his smile return.

“Looks like you brought some good luck little dove. It seems we’re heading home early tonight.”

Caleb:

It had been a long, grueling shift in the skies. Nothing but endless stretches of blue with a few clouds to break the dullness. The minutes dragged by, each one feeling longer than the last. Caleb sat in his cockpit, his elbow propped on the console and his chin resting on his hand as he gazed at his screen. He could handle a shift here and there but ever since your family has grown, miles away from everything he cared about, it weighed on him.

That’s when a familiar, cheerful ringtone broke through the silence.

Caleb immediately perks up, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he sees your name and a photo of you flash on the screen. However it wasn’t you on the other end, it was someone much smaller and cuter and very much identical to him.

“Dad, dad!” The little boy grins ear to ear. Caleb couldn’t help but grin back, the weariness from his shift fading away.

“Hey there, squirt! What’s up?” Nothing seems to be wrong as he reads from his son’s facial expression. “Where’s mom? Everything alright there?” But of course, he just had to make sure. He would not hesitate to fly this ship back around.

“Yeah! She’s in the kitchen cleaning up. I ate all my vegetables just like you said!” His son beamed, making Caleb chuckle, shaking his head fondly.

“Good job! Don’t forget to thank your mom too, alright?” Your son nods enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling but Caleb couldn’t figure out why he could be so hyper until he held up a thick book about the Jurassic era.

“Dad, I finished this whole book!” He said, flipping through the pages to show his dad the pictures. “Did you know black beetles are one of the only creatures that survived the Jurassic era? We should go find some!” His tiny finger lands on a picture of a massive beetle, his eyes wide with awe.

Caleb chuckled, his heart melting at how much his son was almost like him. “That’s awesome buddy. You know, I think-”

Before Caleb could say anything more, a soldier by his door interrupts him. “Colonel, sir-!” Caleb’s fingers twitched, slamming the door shut before he finished his sentence. 

He returned his attention to his son, letting him continue his chatter about dinosaurs, and beetles while Caleb would chime in, sharing a little fact or story like how he used to tell you when you were walking on your way to school or just to help you fall asleep at nights.

Time seemed to slip away as Caleb listened to his son’s excited ramblings, the hours of his shift seemed to go faster than he realized. Even though he still had a while to go, hearing the voice of his family was enough to keep him going.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

[robbysreaders]

pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!reader warnings: not beta read, barely proof read oops word count: 3k idk what happened i started with the bar scene and then felt like it needed some lead up and here we are notes: be kind to me, i am not a writer but these doctors have awoken a monster in me.

Robby got roped into a frontline workers’ talk at a local elementary school.

Shen’s mom’s friend is the principal if some public school and somehow that’s how Robby ends up walking into a fluorescent-lit elementary school foyer the same morning Shen’s leaving for his bachelor party weekend.

“You owe me big time, buddy.” he texts Shen.

“We’re naming our firstborn Robby,” Shen fires back.

“You know I’ll hold you to that,” he replys

He walks in with AirPods in, sunglasses still on, looking a bit lost. You glance up from your clipboard and do a double take.

He pops one AirPod out just as you mutter, “Oh… you’re not Dr. John Shen.”

“Nope, I’m not. He’s on a boat somewhere. Bahamas, I think. You’ve got me instead. Dr. Michael Robinavitch. Older. Not as good-looking.” taking his sunglasses off.

“I never said that,” you say, blush creeping up your neck. “I think he must’ve told our principal and it didn’t get passed along. No worries—I’ll just update my intro slide.”

“Sorry for the switch-up,” he says, finally meeting your eyes properly, and holding the look a moment too long.

“Really, it’s fine. Come on, I’ll show you to the gym. Kids will be filing in soon. Just a quick overview of what you do, your schooling, then a few questions. You’ve got backup—a fire chief, a nurse, an EMT. You’re not on the hook for the whole thing.”

As you walk, he points to a motivational poster taped to the wall: a kitten dangling from a tree branch.

“‘Hang in there.’ Very ER-core.”

You nod, straight-faced. “It’s more for the teachers than the students.”

He chuckles.

He introduces himself to a room of squirming third to fifth graders with “So I work in a place where people try to die and I spend most of my time convincing them not to. It’s great.”

They’re hooked.

He talks about trauma bays, night shifts, a time he held someone’s heart in his hands. The kids go wild.

One kid asks if he’s famous.

Another asks if he’s seen poop.

A third says: “You look like Iron Man.”

Robby: “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

After the assembly wraps up, your work bestie sidles up to you.

“So we’re just gonna ignore that Dr. McHottie was eye fucking you the whole time?”

You don’t look up from the stack of worksheets you’re grading. “Literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

She tilts her head. “You should’ve gotten his number. Or I should have. What do you think they’d say if we just called the hospital?”

“I think it violates HIPAA.”

She shrugs. “I don’t think that you know what HIPAA is.”

You roll your eyes.

But the universe isn’t done.

Later, still riding the post-event adrenaline, you stop at the grocery store on your route home. This day earned you cake and a bottle of wine. You’re crouched down in the wine aisle, scanning for the cheapest red on the shelf, when someone clears their throat behind you.

“I think you’re better off with a white. With, uh, berry chantilly cake,” he says, peeking into your basket.

You look up. It’s him.

“An ER doctor and a sommelier? A modern renaissance man.”

“SAT words. The future’s in good hands,” he teases.

“So what’s your wine recommendation then?” you say standing up.

“Oh, I don’t know shit about wine.”

You laugh, and the silence lingers a beat too long.

“I—” “Not—” You speak at the same time.

“Ladies first,” he smiles.

“I was just going to thank you again for coming this morning. Not to show bias, but you were definitely the kids’ favorite.”

“Yeah, the heart story always kills. No pun intended.”

“Well, they had plenty of questions after you left. I told them they missed their chance.”

“I could give you my number. Y’know, in case more vital questions pop up. Or… you could use it to talk to me. Maybe even plan a time for me to take you out?”

You chuckle. “That line work on every elementary school teacher you try to pick up?”

“So far I’m one for one.”

“Not sure that’s statistically significant,” you reply, handing him your phone.

You text him your name—just your name and a smiley.

His phone starts ringing. He glances at it, then winces.

“I’m so sorry—I have to take this. Yeah… I’m just around the block. Okay. Be there in seven.” He turns to you, regret softening his expression. “Really sorry. I’ll text you later?”

“Of course, Dr. Robinavitch. Go save lives.”

”Everyone calls me Robby, or you can call me Michael” he says heading out. Just before the door closes, he glances back once more.

Later, you’re finally home. Glass of red in hand, cozy on the couch. You scroll, half-buzzed from the wine and the day, when a new text pops up:

Michael: My research says champagne’s actually the move next time—for the cake, I mean.

You grin.

You: Not a ton of room in the budget for a Thursday night champagne toast on a public school salary. Think I’ll stick to my $9 red.

You snap a selfie: you, the wine, a smirk.

Michael: Could be my treat? Next Thursday?

Followed by a link to a cozy bar you’ve been wanting to try.

Your fingers hover for only a second before typing:

You: It’s a date ❤️

You get there first.

The bar is small, dim, and full of mismatched chairs and candlelight. The kind of place where couples whisper over charcuterie. You’re nursing a glass of something bubbly, trying to look casual and not like you checked your makeup in your phone camera twelve times already.

Then the door creaks open, and there he is.

Button-down rolled at the sleeves, hair mussed just enough to look effortless—though he’d never admit it took longer than it should’ve. He spots you instantly and smiles like he doesn’t do that often. Like it caught him off guard too.

“You clean up nice,” you say as he slides into the chair across from you.

“You clean up… irresponsibly good,” he says, raising his eyebrows and making you laugh.

You clink glasses and dive straight into easy conversation. It flows, faster than either of you expected. He tells you about the time a raccoon got into the ambulance bay. You tell him about a class trip gone wrong and how a goat chased the entire third grade around a petting zoo.

There’s food—fancy grilled cheese, olives, tiny things with aioli—and more wine. You talk about work, but not too much. You learn he’s been at The Pitt longer than he planned. That he’s not from Pittsburgh, but ended up staying because… well, because.

You don’t push.

He watches you talk with his chin resting on one hand, doing that thing again—looking at you like you’re a puzzle he doesn’t mind not solving.

Midway through dessert, a berry cream tarte— the closest thing they had to the cake you bonded over a week ago— he leans in a little.

“Be honest,” he says. “What’d you actually think when I walked into the school?”

You smirk. “I thought you were a dad who got lost on his way to drop off a forgotten lunchbox.”

Robby laughs. “Brutal.”

“Okay, and also… I thought, oh no, he’s hot.”

He raises his glass. “That’s better.”

He offers you a hand to help you out of the booth and follows beside you, hand barely there at your lower back.

You’re standing outside, the city quiet in that just-past-bedtime way. There’s a light breeze and the smell of something warm from a nearby bakery.

“I had fun,” you say.

“Me too,” he replies. “Thanks for not fleeing halfway through.”

“Thanks for not turning out to be a wine snob.”

“I told you, I know nothing about wine. I was just trying to impress you. I was frantically Googling wine recommendations so i could have a reason to chat with you.”

You both laugh, and then there's a pause. A beat of quiet.

He tilts his head. “So, uh… what’s the move here?”

You step forward. “Well, you did save a lot of lives this week.”

“And you wrangled children into making a thank-you card with the word ‘trauma’ spelled wrong.”

“Tramua is the French spelling,” you deadpan.

That makes him laugh again—but softer this time.

Then he kisses you. Slow and warm, like he’s been thinking about it since the grocery store.

When you pull back, he looks at you like he wants to say something—but doesn’t.

Instead, he laces his fingers with yours.

“Did you park around here?”

“I walked. I’m only a few blocks away.”

“Can I walk you home? Make sure you get there safely.”

You smile. “Of course. It’s that way,” you say, pointing left.

He releases your hand just long enough to move to the curb side, then grabs it again without a word.

You walk in comfortable silence. That kind of quiet that doesn’t need filling.

“This is me,” you say as you reach your stoop. “I’d invite you up for a nightcap, but… it is a school night.”

Robby chuckles. “Can I kiss you again?”

You don’t answer—you just lean in. And suddenly you’re a teenager again, making out on your front porch under a flickering streetlamp.

This time, he’s the one to pull back first, forehead resting against yours. “Alright,” he murmurs. “Guess I have to be the responsible one.”

You steal a few more kisses anyway, laughing softly, before finally saying goodnight and slipping inside.

You’re curled up in bed, grading a stack of vocabulary quizzes, red pen in hand, when your phone buzzes:

Michael: Made it home. Thanks for a great night.

You: I had an amazing time. Up until I got home and got a paper cut on a stack of quizzes I need to finish before tomorrow.

Michael: Sounds serious. I can’t diagnose over text. Could I see it in person? Maybe Saturday?

You: I’d love that, but I won’t be in town—I can’t believe this didn’t come up. I leave tomorrow for an elementary STEM conference. Riveting, I know. I’ll be back Wednesday.

Michael: My schedule’s rough next week. Could you do Friday?

You: One date in and we’re already juggling calendars. I think that’s a good omen 😊

But yes—I’ll pencil you in for Friday.

Michael: Pencil? Ouch. That kind of hurts.

You: Okay, okay. Permanent marker. Color coded. Red for Robby.

Michael: That’s more like it ;)

The days go fast—seminars, lectures, hands-on demos. You barely stop moving.

But every spare second you get, you’re texting him.

Sometimes flirty. Sometimes funny. Sometimes just: Here’s what I’m eating. What about you?

It’s been a while since you’ve been in something like this. But it’s never felt this easy. And you’re really hoping he feels the same way.

Little do you know.

It’s almost time for handoff , and shockingly the ER is in a lull which gives the team time to strike an inquisition on Robby. Dana kicks it off, perched on a nurses station desk.

“Alright Robinovitch, spill”

He looks at her over his glasses, “I just finished handing off to Shen, theres nothing else to spill.”

“You’re smiling.”

“No I’m not.” he says with a frown.

“All week your face is trying so hard not to smile, it’s giving your wrinkles wrinkles.”

Shen turns from the drawer hes been rummaging in for snacks. “Wait, are we talking about how Robby’s been… weirdly chill?”

“I’m not chill.”

“You told a med student that it was alright, we all make mistakes sometimes.”

“I did not.”

“You did. I was there,” Dana grins. “Who are you?”

Robby leans back in his hair, sips his coffee. “Maybe I’m growing. Emotionally.”

Dana gasps. “Oh my God. He’s in love.”

Robby chokes slightly on his drink. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve had your nose in your phone every free moment you’ve had.” Dana adds. “You’ve taken real breaks where you go talk on the phone in the ambulance bay.”

Robby sets his cup down, but he’s not denying it. Just smirking like someone caught red-handed.

“Alright who’s the lucky lady?”

“You don’t know her and you’ll never know her.”

Shen looks like he’s doing calculus in his head and leans in. “Wait this started when I was on my trip, oh my god, did you meet a hot mom at the elementary school?”

Robby pauses. Just long enough.

“Holy shit, I don’t owe you any more – you got your repayment a hot MILF.”

“Oh my God,” Dana says.

“Jesus Christ, she’s not a mom, she’s a teacher”.

There’s a beat of silence before Dana grins. “You know what? I love this for you.”

Robby rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue.

“Wait,” Shen says. “Does she know you’re, like, emotionally stunted?”

“She’s a 3rd grade teacher. I think she’s prepared.”

Dana hops down. “I’m gonna need details.”

“You’re not getting details.”

Friday rolls around and you’re more excited than you’ve ever been for a second date. It’s cozy and dimly lit—more plants than light fixtures, menus scribbled on chalkboards, and the faint buzz of a bar that feels like a well-kept secret.

You spot him at the bar, already seated towards the back. He’s dressed down again, but there’s something intentional about it—like someone who spent an extra minute wondering what shirt to wear.

He catches your eyes and smiles like he forgot how to do that for a while until recently.

“You’re punctual,” he says, clearly pleased.

“You’re early,” you reply, shrugging off your coat. “I was promised a perpetually late, cynical doctor.”

“Tragic. He’s been replaced by a man who googled ‘cozy date spots that don’t feel like you’re trying too hard.’”

You laugh. “And did it recommend this place?”

“Nope. Shen’s girlfriend did. Which I now realize makes this deeply traceable.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait—do they know?”

Robby sighs. “Dana cornered me in central. I didn’t confirm or deny. Shen said I was glowing. It was… a dark time.”

You smirk.

The food is good—small plates, easy to share. The conversation is even better.

He opens up, just a little—enough to mention the long hours, how emergency medicine pulls you in like a rip current, how sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing he’s really good at.

You tell him about your student who tried to fake a cough for three weeks to get out of a math test, and the tiny triumphs that feel like wins no one else sees.

He watches you talk, head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth pulled into a lazy smile. His fingers rest near yours on the table. Not touching. Not quite.

Finally, he says, “I’ve gotta be honest—I haven’t really… done this in a while.”

“Tapas?”

He chuckles. “No, like—dating. Letting someone in. It’s easier to stay busy. Stay… guarded, I guess.”

You nod. “Well, I haven’t really dated someone who sees more blood before lunch than most people do in a year, so.”

“So we’re both out of practice.”

“Guess we’ll have to wing it.”

He leans in and kisses you. Slow. Deliberate. This one without surprise. This one because he wanted to all night.

You’ve fallen into a comfortable cadence. You see him a few times a week, more often than you thought you would, but you don't complain. You love his company.

Your schedules do still clash at times.

You planned to go home after parent-teacher conferences. Michael had already mentioned he had plans—finally joining his coworkers for a long-overdue drink after weeks of skipping out.

It doesn’t take much to convince you to meet your own colleagues for a post-conference drink. It’s been a day, and you deserve it.

But as you walk into the bar, you spot a familiar profile near the corner.

You don’t even hesitate. With a little liquid courage in hand, you stroll over and place a hand on his shoulder.

“So… they really just let anyone in here nowadays?”

Michael turns, eyes lighting up in that way that makes your stomach dip. “How’d you find me?”

“Coincidence. We needed to lick our wounds after the parent-teacher conference firing squad.”

One of the guys at the table leans toward the person next to him. “Ahhh. This is the teacher.”

Michael grins and slides his arm around your waist, his hand resting easily at your hip. “Right, where are my manners?” he says introducing you to the team.

You smile, trying not to let the arm-around-your-waist thing short-circuit your brain. “It’s so nice to meet you all. I’ll get back to my workplace complain-fest and let you return to yours.”

You squeeze his shoulder lightly, but before you step away, his hand shifts on your waist, catching your attention. He leans in and lowers his voice just for you.

“If you head out before we do… come say bye?”

You meet his eyes and nod. “Of course.”

The moment you slide into your seat, your coworkers pounce.

“What the hell was that about?”

“You don’t have friends outside of school.”

“Thanks for introducing us to your hot doctor friends???”

“Wait—HOLY SHIT, was that Dr. McHottie with his arm around your waist? Did I miss a chapter?!”

You laugh and give them the short version. You field a rapid-fire round of teasing, eye-rolls, and maybe a few not-so-subtle attempts to angle to get set up with his coworkers, but eventually the conversation drifts to who cried in the hallway today, who mispronounced “photosynthesis,” and whose turn it is to deal with the PTA bake sale disaster.

Your group starts calling it a night. Long day, longer week. You say your goodbyes and make your way back toward Michael’s table, which has thinned out significantly as well.

He stands when he sees you. “My friends couldn’t hang. I’m calling it a night too—just wanted to say bye.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay if you want another drink, honey,” Dana offers, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, I couldn’t impose—”

“You could never,” Michael says, standing and lightly touching your elbow. “What are you drinking?”

You smile. “Whatever you’re having.”

You settle in at the table. The conversation is easy, flowing from hospital horror stories to favorite dive bars to why Dana is banned from karaoke at two different establishments.

Michael returns with drinks, sliding yours to you and casually resting his hand on your thigh under the table, thumb tracing slow circles that make it a little hard to concentrate on anything Dana is saying.

You laugh, you listen, you really like his friends.

The convos come to a close and you all start heading out. You shrug on your coat, and Michael helps, fingers brushing lightly down your arm.

“Want to walk me home?”

He smile. “I’d love that.”

The conversation is light—teasing, wandering, nothing too deep. You talk about favorite childhood snacks and your worst Halloween costumes. He tells you how Jack once sliced his palm on a pineapple slicer and tried to pretend it wasn’t bleeding.

As you reach your apartment steps, you stop and turn to him.

“That was really fun,” you say, quietly. “I like your friends. I hope I didn’t make anything awkward.”

“Not at all,” he replies. “They loved you.”

“Good. Glad I passed the first big test.”

He chuckles. “Teachers and their testing.”

There’s a pause. Then: “So… want to come up?” you ask, voice soft but steady.

He hesitates, not pulling away. “I’d really like to. But I just came off a twelve-hour shift, and I’ve probably had two more drinks than I should’ve. If I sit down, I’m going to be half-asleep in seconds.”

You take his hand and start walking him toward your door.

“Then that’s settled,” you say. “Can’t have you falling asleep in the Uber.”

You open the door, letting the warm light spill into the hallway, and look back at him with a little smile.

He follows you in without another word.

You flick on the light and immediately cringe.

“Wow. Sorry. My place looks like my classroom exploded in here.”

Michael steps in behind you, taking in the scattered worksheets, the pile of books on your couch, and the half-folded laundry draped over a chair.

“You should see the trauma bay on a Tuesday,” he says, tossing his jacket over the back of a stool. “This is a spa by comparison.”

You kick aside a rogue glue stick. “I did mean to clean today, but then 30 small humans and their guardians demanded to know if their kid is ‘thriving academically’ while also asking what ‘phonics’ actually is.”

He snorts.

You pad to the kitchen and grab two glasses of water, handing one to him. “Doctor’s orders.”

He grins. “Responsible and charming.”

You sit on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you. He follows, moving slowly—like someone who’s used to being on his feet for twelve hours and finally has permission to stop.

He slouches into the other end of the couch, long legs stretched out, one arm thrown over the backrest. He takes a sip of water and closes his eyes for a second, just breathing.

“I’m gonna fall asleep right here,” he murmurs.

You smile. “Go for it. My couch has a strict no-judgment zone.”

There’s a long, easy silence after that. Not awkward—just soft.

Eventually, you get up and offer him a hand “you’re not sleeping on the couch, come on”

He reaches for your hand —warm fingers curling around yours for just a second longer than necessary.

He follows you to your room, hands still intertwined. It’s not the first time you’ve shared a bed, but it is the first time you’ve shared one without hooking up before. It all feels very intimate.

There’s a surgical precision to how he fits into your evening routine that leaves you a little breathless as you settle into bed.

“Night,” he murmurs wrapping an arm around you and nuzzling in.

You squeeze his hand once, gently. “Goodnight, Michael.”

[deanstead]

Marry That Girl

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Word Count: 600+

Tags/Warnings: none

A/N: Short one because I haven't released something for Jay in way too long! This has been sitting in my WIP drafts for the longest time so I finally got it written! An anon requested something similar for Will but since I had a half-written fic, I finished this and posting this instead! As always thanks to bestie @seatsbythepit for being my beta queen~!

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You hadn’t thought this through.

It sounded like an innocent enough date when Jay had asked if you wanted to go watch the game. You hadn't been dating for long, and every day felt a little unreal in a ‘I can’t believe Jay Halstead wants to go out with me’ kind of way, and you appreciated every opportunity you got to spend with Jay especially since you never knew if he would have to go undercover or spend nights at the district trying to clear a case.

But now that the game was approaching, you were in a bit of a panic.

You enjoyed watching a game, but you didn’t always know what you were watching or doing, and you weren’t sure you were ready to let Jay see that side of you.

“Y/N, everything okay?” Kelly’s voice interrupted your internalized panic and you glanced up.

“Ah, I should have thought of you!” You proclaimed, earning yourself an eyebrow raise from the squad lieutenant. “I need your help.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow but chuckled before nodding toward his office.

You thanked all the stars that it was a quieter shift. After all, an entirely quiet shift didn’t exist at Firehouse 51. But at least that’s the way you liked it.

Kelly gave you a crash course, but not without reminding you that you owed him one. You spent the rest of the downtime studying it so that at least you’d have something smart to say, even though there were a few times you wondered what the hell you were doing.

Hard work indeed paid off.

You walked out of the game, feeling a little embarrassed as Jay’s friends gushed over you.

“Jay, you got a good one. My girlfriend doesn’t even want to come to games with me.” One of his buddies quipped.

Jay laughed, putting an arm around you and grinning. “Hey, should I be worried? What if you guys just call her for the games instead?”

The laughter rumbled through the group as they all nodded, teasing Jay that they’d rather call you instead of him in the future.

You really did owe Kelly one.

As his friends dispersed, calling that Jay had better bring you out for the next game, Jay’s phone rang.

You nodded at him, telling him he’d better take it, assuring him that you and Will wouldn’t leave him behind.

Jay took the call from Voight, glancing toward where you and Will were talking as he nodded. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll be right in.”

Jay could feel the dread in his gut, that felt just a little too much like guilt that he had to blow off again tonight even though he’d promised a nice after-game dinner and maybe some drinks and cuddling.

“This is why you don’t promise anything, Jay.” He mumbled to himself, before he walked back toward the both of you.

“Hey, Y/N, I…”

You glanced at the look on Jay’s face and just smiled. “Gotcha.”

“Sorry.” Jay couldn’t even say anything more because everything else in his head sounded like an excuse.

“I’m not saying I’m not disappointed, because I kinda am. But I get it. And if these were bells going off for the ambulance, I’d do the same thing you’re doing now. So, go.” You paused. “But you owe me a mind-blowing date.”

Jay laughed and nodded. “That, I definitely do.”

You shot him a huge smile and headed off toward Jay’s truck to wait because you knew he’d at least take you home before heading back down to wherever he was supposed to go.

Will watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and awe before he glanced at his younger brother.

“Jay?” Will called, before Jay and him headed off in different directions.

Jay glanced up at Will and Will smiled. “You better marry that girl.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[i-dont-even-know-anymore976]

my spine split from carrying us up the hill (i’m just getting colour back into my face)

a buddie relationship breakdown fic | 21.8k

tags: buck pov, buck centric, established relationship, break up, cheating, sad buck, emotional/psychological abuse, unhealthy relationship, eddie diaz bashing, 118 bashing, (tho i think it’s more critical but for the filters), season 7 au, in an au where buddie got together after the shooting, Relationship Breakdown, Buck & Ravi Friendship, anti buddie, No Beta We Die Like Bobby Nash, (doesn’t in this fic)

It took Buck a moment to process what he saw before him.  Eddie — his arms wrapped around some woman. His face buried in her neck and his fingers brushing her skin.  The other man’s eyes widening, his face going pale as he realised they’d been caught.  Buck barely heard Eddie gasp Chris’s name — the boy motionless next to him as they stared at a ghost.  At Shannon.  At Chris’s mother — who Buck knew was dead.  Had been to the funeral and seen them both through the messy aftermath. Had helped this child mourn once and already knew he’d have to do it again.  Or: What if it was Buck instead of Marisol

in a surprise to everyone — and most of all me — i’ve actually written something ?? for the first time in like three years ?? wild

tbh i think that scene in 8.17 just reaffirmed everything i'd been slowly realising about buddie and why they could never work and it somehow manifested itself as this 😅

anyway - a lil excerpt for you all xx

He regretted it as soon as the dial tone sounded. Had let his thumb hover of the name — debating — for more than a few seconds before giving in to the urge to press call.

And yet — as soon as it actually started ringing — he knew he shouldn’t have done it.

That he was fine. That he was being dramatic, once again.

But he also knew he couldn’t just hang up. That it would create a panic — force them to call back — to ask questions.

“Doctor Copeland’s office,” it was a new receptionist. Her voice melodically neutral as she answered the phone, “May I ask who’s calling.”

Buck stumbled over his words for a second, before rushing to explain, “Uh — don’t worry. It was an accident.”

“Are you sure… Mr Buckley?” She drew out the question as if reading the name off a screen and Buck cursed whatever Caller ID system the psychologist’s office employed that still recognised his number.

Her tone more concerned as she asked again, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah — yeah, of course.” He felt almost breathless as the lies left his lips, “Just a wrong number. Pressed the wrong person by mistake. Sorry for any trouble.”

“Okay — then,” she sounded doubtful. “Well, we’re here if you ever need us, Mr Buckley. Don’t hesitate to ring back now. Okay? I know Doctor Copeland would be more than happy to fit you in.”

“Yeah—” he agreed half-heartedly. Desperate to get off the phone before he did something stupid like actually ask for an appointment.

Knowing it was pointless. That he was fine.

“Have a nice day then.”

He finally freed himself from the conversation. Heart racing like it usually only did when he’s had to run up six flights of stairs in full turn outs.

He forced himself to drop his phone onto the counter — hands shaking as he thought about reaching for it again — and made himself walk away instead.

Looked around the kitchen desperately for something to do and was relieved to spot the small stack of dishes from the night before.

They usually did them together. Buck drying as Eddie washed — accused of almost flooding the kitchen one too many times before Eddie had finally relegated him to the less dangerous of the tasks.

They’d been too tired the night before. Exhaustion dragging them towards bed and leaving the dishes to wait until the morning.

It had been happening more and more lately. Truthfully Buck couldn’t remember the last time they’d shared their little ritual. Meals eaten in a rush as they raced out the door to work — whoever drew the short straw and got home first left to do the tidy up.

At least if Buck didn’t end up eating alone. Eddie always out these days — the friendship he'd struck up with Tommy keeping him gone until late whenever they had the day off.

Chris, even more sociable than his father. Forever at a friend’s house, or out with the girl that he swore to Buck wasn’t a budding romance. Swindling invites for sleepovers through charm and good humour that a young Buck could never have dreamed of emulating.

Always clinging just a little too tight for people to ever really settle in his presence.

It left him alone most nights. At least the ones he didn’t spend at the firehouse, revelling in the thrum of activity. Instructions from Bobby as they cooked, Chim and Hen’s quiet rivalry as they wrestled for control of the TV remote.

Eddie sitting next to him in the engine — their legs brushing they were sat so close. Sometimes it felt like the most intimate they ever were anymore.

Never mind the way they’d clung to each other having rescued Bobby and Athena. Buck pressing into bruises to leave them there a little longer. To remind himself that Eddie had chosen him, that he loved him.

Not that he needed the reminder.

Buck knew that. Intrinsically. He did.

Read on AO3

[storytellers-contest-tjac]

Storytellers Contest: TJAC FAQs

(x)

FAQs (subject to change)  

Participants will receive a welcome packet with additional information. If you have questions not answered below or in your packet, please DM us on Tumblr or Discord.

What characters can I create for?

Below is the list of characters that can be used for this contest. Jensen* RPF is also welcome.  

Tom Hanniger (My Bloody Valentine)

Dean Winchester* (SPN/The Winchesters)  

Jack Durfy (Buddy Games)  

Soldier Boy/Ben (The Boys)  

Beau Arlen (Big Sky)  

Russell Shaw (Tracker)  

Mark Meachum (Countdown)  

*Jensen or his character should be over the age of thirty within the piece. 

What is the minimum word count?

There are two options. Each category will have its own prize levels.  

Novella (5k to 15K words)

Magnum Opus (25k+ words)

Can I include ships?

Yes. Except for the following (stated or implied).  

No J2/Wincest  

No Destiel/Cockles

Does the relationship of the main character(s) have to be romantic?

No. Platonic, gender-neutral, sibling, and parental relationships are also acceptable. No underage (18) sex or incest allowed.

Characters in romantic/sexual relationships should be 30+. 

Can I combine with another contest, bingo, or challenge?

No.   

Are crossovers allowed?

Yes. Crossovers with other fandoms, even ones Jensen is not involved in—MCU, Doctor Who, Sherlock, Star Trek, etc.—are allowed. The story's primary focus should still be on Jensen or one of his listed characters.  

Are AUs allowed?   No. Objectively judging characterization in AUs would be difficult.

Is canon divergence allowed?   Yes.

How is an AU versus a canon-divergent story defined for the purpose of the contest?

AU - Set in a completely different universe, and the character(s) have a different backstory. Such as Dean being a bakery owner or a photographer who travels the world instead of becoming a hunter. Or SB not being a supe but still dishing out toxic masculinity as a VP of Operations. The characters may be familiar, but the world they inhabit is not. More like original fiction with our favorite characters tossed in.

Canon Divergence - Set in the same universe/world, and the characters have the same life history. Beau is still a divorced sheriff in Montana, or Russell still works private security for the Horizon Group. It basically follows canon up until the author adds in a new character(s) or the canon characters take a different action that alters their storyline. The world and characters are familiar and true to the source material, but an event or choice not in canon changes the outcomes.

Is there a drop-out date or other checkpoint?   Yes.

Drop-out deadline: December 31, 2025

Check-in: March 15, 2026

Posting

Fanworks must be completed, edited, beta/alpha read, and ready to post by June 13, 2026  

Works should be posted, in their entirety, between June 14 and June 21, 2026, to be eligible for judging and prizes.  

Works posted before June 14, 2026, will be disqualified from the judging process.  

You may post on Tumblr or AO3. 

Please add it to the Storytellers Contest Collection here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/StorytellersContestTJAC

If posting on AO3, please create a Tumblr post with the link so we can reblog it.  

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A link to the post should be shared in the submission channel on Discord between June 14 and June 21, 2026.

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Submissions will be reblogged to the @storytellers-contest-tjac blog from June 22 to June 28, 2026. If you do not see your post reblogged, don’t hesitate to contact @mod on the Discord server. Or ask in the @storytellers-contest-tjac DMs.

When does judging take place?

Judging begins June 30, 2026, and ends July 31, 2026.

The Reader's Choice voting form will be available beginning June 30 and will close on July 31, 2026.  

How will readers find my work for judging?  

Our admins will create a master post with links to all the submitted works and will reblog the post several times throughout the judging time frame.  

You may also reblog and promote your post as often as you'd like after the submission deadline.    

When are the winners announced?

August 8, 2026    

Images  

All images used in this event MUST be credited to the original creator/site unless pulled from a Creative Commons website.  

A source link must be provided. Please ask for permission before using photos taken by con photographers or attendees.  

Place source links in the post however you'd like.

Here is an example of how to keep it clean and unobtrusive - https://deanwinchesterswitch.tumblr.com/post/763369272735137792/source-x-x-x-x 

Artwork  

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Updated: 061625

[bitletsanddrabbles]

[Fic] The Glory, the Shame

This is what happens when I try to come up with something to write at 7:00 am on Veteran's Day - you get Thomas and Peter sitting on @alex51324 's Island of the Gays philosophizing.

Not certain I'm going to include this one in the Island Sandbox, since it is now about twelve hours after I started, I am tired, and not at all certain it hits the right notes. But it's a thing and I wrote it, so here. Can be read as pre-relationship or just buddies, as you so feel moved.

Needless to say it is beta free. Also free of guppies, goldfish, loches, koi...okay, I'm going stop now before someone hurls a salmon at my head. On to the story instead.

-

Thomas sat on the bluff outside of town, a cigarette dangling in his fingers, watching the seagulls. A stiff wind was blowing, making his cheeks sting, but at least it wasn’t raining. Most of the village had decamped to the pub, intent on reducing Tully’s whisky supply to dregs. Thomas had thought about joining them, but his heart wasn’t quite in it.

A crunching noise alerted him to the fact he was about to have company. He looked up, half expecting it to be the herd of cattle they let roam the island south of the village, but it turned out to be Peter Fitzroy.

“Mind if I join you?” the one armed man asked.

“Sure,” Thomas replied. “The ground’s none too soft, though.”

“Probably better that way. Easier to dust off after.” Peter lowered himself to the ground with his usual easy cheer. “I take it the pub was a bit crowded for you?”

“Yeah.” Thomas took a drag off his cigarette. “Don’t get me wrong, I could use a pint or two about now. Maybe three or four, but there wasn’t even standing room in there.”

“I know what you mean.” Peter pulled out his own cigarettes and worked one out of the case. Even though he was perfectly capable of lighting it himself, Thomas lite it for him. Less hassle that way. For a minute the two of them just sat and smoked. Finally Peter said, “I thought it was a lovely service.”

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed. It touched on all of the key points without being soppy or condescending. Father Tim did a good job.” That was one problem with people who hadn’t actually been in the war. They could easily make it sound like they had been, like they knew exactly what the soldiers had been through when it was very clear they didn’t. It tended to lead to lofty proclamations about bravery and sacrifice that stank like the mud of the Somme, or sneering dismissal of the misery that had lead to missing limbs and haunting nightmares. Admittedly, Thomas had as little patience for the nightmares as the next person, but mostly because they interrupted his sleep and he did not like being woken up, thank you very much. He understood, but…well. His nightmares never disturbed anyone except himself.

“What did you think of the suggestion that we build our own war memorial, like villages are doing on the mainland?”

Thomas frowned at that one. “I’m not entirely certain. I wouldn’t fight it, of course. But I don’t know that it would help me any.”

The other man gave him a curious look at that. “Isn’t there anyone who’s gone that you want remembered?”

“Maybe.” Thomas took a slow drag and thought for a second before blowing out a long stream of smoke. There was Lord Flintshire’s valet, and a couple of other servants who had visited Downton frequently, but they’d been friends, not lovers. He didn’t know if anyone here would even know them. “I’m the one who didn’t know anyone in London, remember? Yeah, there were blokes I had it off with now and again, but never more than a couple of times. The people I’d really care about, well. They weren’t our sort. Seems a bit pointless to put them on there.”

“Hm. I suppose.” The other man allowed. “Then again, there are those of us who would want brothers on there, so I don’t know that it would have to be just our sort.”

“I still don’t know if any of my brothers made it through,” Thomas admitted. “I might be the last one standing.” He tried not to look at his gloved hand, but his eyes flickered to it involuntarily as he stretched his fingers.

Thankfully, the other man didn’t seem to notice. “Is there anyone you could write to find out? Or do you not want to?”

Thomas shrugged. “My sister, perhaps, if she’d write back to me. I don’t know that I’d bother, though. They might as well all be dead, as much as we pay attention to each other. Again, I don’t see that there’s anything to be gained by knowing.”

“That’s fair, I suppose.” The two of them lapsed into silence for a bit. Again, it was Peter who broke the silence. “What do you suppose Kit’s doing?”

“He planned on spending the day working on play bills for the theatre’s next production,” Thomas replied. “If he finishes that, he’ll probably read or something like that, I’d imagine. I’ve told him not to feel poorly about it, that he was well out of it, but. Well. No one likes to feel like they didn’t do their bit.”

“If they were clever they would.” Peter frowned, the expression out of place on his normally cheerful face. “I keep trying to tell Davy Hall that no one’s looking down on him for not serving, but you can tell he doesn’t believe it.”

“Davy?” Thomas looked askance at the other man. “You’re joking.” The other man shook his head. Thomas blinked, trying to wrap his head around it. “The man had rheumatic fever as a boy. The doctors expect him to drop dead of a hear attack or have his kidneys give out any day now, and he’s bemoaning the fact that he failed his physical and they wouldn’t let him go get shot at because his health might give out before the Germans got him?”

Peter gave a rueful sort of smile and a one sided shrug. “Apparently his brothers both died, so he really is the last one standing. And he’s here, so it’s not as if the line is going to continue. I think he feels as if, had he gone, one of his brothers might have survived.”

Thomas was aware of that sort of thinking, but he couldn’t imagine feeling that way about anything. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, even if I was expected to die young, I can not imagine feeling that suicidal.”

The comment earned him a sideways look that couldn’t decide whether to be fond or exasperated. “No, I can’t imagine you could. You’re too determined to live.”

His cigarette half way to his lips, Thomas froze. He slowly turned to look at the other man, gauging whether that comment had meant what he thought it did. When Peter lifted his eyebrows and shot a look at Thomas’s glove, that was a pretty clear answer. “Figured it out, have you?” Thomas replied, smiling tightly, trying to make a joke of it. He supposed if the other man was going to get him kicked off of the island, he’d have done it by now, and he didn’t seem like the sort for blackmail.

“Yeah.” Peter turned and crushed out his cigarette. “Several of us have. Me, Tully, Jessop, Rouse.”

“Dr R knows?” Thomas cringed. Oh, that couldn’t be good.

“He does.” The other man gave him a wan smile. “He doesn’t blame you, though. None of us do. If you get right down to it, you were the clever one, getting out of there rather than waiting for the Huns to drop a shell on your head.” He nodded to the glove and added, “Not to mention you could easily have died of infection. Difficult to call someone a coward when they’re doing something they know full well could kill them.”

“I wasn’t really thinking about that at the time,” Thomas admitted. It probably wasn’t the wisest thing he could do, but if Peter didn’t think poorly of him already, he doubted the truth would change that too much. “I just, I’d had it. I’d signed up to help save them that could be saved, not to die for a country that would just as soon kill me themselves. Or lock me away for two years and then let someone beat me to death when I got out, which is close enough.” He crushed out his own cigarette, then, after a moment’s thought, went to get another.

Peter shrugged. “You’re not wrong. And I still don’t blame you.” His eyebrows knit together and he asked, curiously, “Although, if I might ask, how did you manage it? It’s a difficult shot to manage yourself.”

“I didn’t manage it myself.” Thomas tucked his lighter away and blew smoke into the air. He would never understand how some people managed not to smoke. What did they do for their nerves? “I took myself out to a nice, quiet corner of the trench, lit m’self a cigarette, and then held my hand up over the wall. A German sniper took care of the rest for me.”

Oddly, that garnered a smile from the other man. “Well, that was nice of him. Did you send him a thank you note?”

“No,” Thomas scoffed, shaking his head. “I wasn’t exactly in any condition for it. Too much morphine. Who knows? By the time I was thinking clearly again, he was probably dead anyway.”

“Probably.”

They were quiet again, for a stretch. This time Thomas broke it. “How long have you known?”

“Several months now. We put it together about the time Gordon ran off.”

“Blimey.” Thomas blinked at that. “And it took this long for any of you to say something?”

Peter shrugged. “It didn’t seem important, really. After all, who decided it was cowardice? And who decided that cowardice was something to die over? A bunch of men who never left England, except on holiday? The men who wished they had the guts to do something like that?” He looked down at his own shoulder. “I may not have invited a German sniper to have a shot at me, but I wasn’t exactly crying when they told me I couldn’t carry a stretcher anymore.”

“I should think not.”

“We did our bit. Then we went home. It’s what we said we’d do.”

“Too right.”

“We’re just lucky we made it.” Peter gave a salute to the clouds. “To the Glorious Dead.”

“And the Inglorious Living,” Thomas added, giving his own salute.

The other man leaned in, resting the stump of his shoulder against Thomas’s. “Glorious or not, I’m just as glad to have you hear instead of lying under poppies in France.”

“Thanks.” Thomas smiled and looped an arm around the other mans’ back to help them both stabilise. “I could say the same.”

[humgryheart]

just a little buddie ficlet about how Buck has absolutely ZERO idea about personal space, and... using Eddie's stuff. 500-ish words, obvs not beta read we die like Daniel

Also on ao3

"You smell different," Chimney taps the golden-curls on the shoulder, passing by Buck on the stairs leading to the loft. "New shampoo?"

Buck knits his brows in confusion. "Huh? No, I don't think so..."

"Smells kinda familiar though," Chim shrugs, walking upstairs without any further pursuit on the matter.

Buck shrugs it off. It's not a big deal. He doesn't feel like he smells any different, at least not to his own set of nostrils.

-

After a call, the 118 returns to the firehouse, spent. They file out of the trucks, ready to clock out. Buck is standing in front of his locker, absentmindedly grabbing a change of clothes.

Eddie leans his shoulder on a closed locker door right next to Buck's. "Hey, uh... Buck?"

"Hmm?" Buck replies without looking up.

"You uh... notice how you smell?" Eddie asks, and since Buck didn't look up, he could only gather that Eddie's question has a weird intonation to it.

It's been a weird question. Some people brought it up, some looks at him silly. Some just shrugs, not without letting him know he smells different, yet familiar, though. Buck looks up at Eddie, standing oh-so-close to him, also another familiar sight.

"You know, people have been mentioning that the whole shift. Do I smell any different? I don't think I do,"

Eddie purses his lips, not without releasing a small, albeit strained smile on his face. "Yeah, you do smell different,"

"Is it bad?" Buck levels him a look, closing the locker door as he bunches up his change of clothes in his other arm.

Buck has a way about him. He always does. Eddie only laughs. "Yeah, no... not bad, per se..." Eddie pulls out an empty soap bottle from his bag, showing it to Curls Galore. "It's just that, you're using my soap,"

Buck's face doesn't change expressions. "Yeah, I know... I mean, I stayed over at your place last night, right? I ran out of mine,"

Something in Eddie's face becomes unreadable. Buck takes that as a sign to continue. "...Not that you mind, right? Like, Eddie," He sighs out a smile, squeezing Eddie's shoulder with his free hand, "It's your house, I'm not really a guest, right?"

A small grin appears on Eddie's face. "...No, you're not. I guess not,"

Buck nods, letting go of his firmly tender grip from Eddie's shoulder. "Besides... I think I like the smell better," he turns to go, a carefree smile on his face, accompanied by a shrug of an equal nature.

Eddie watches him go, a sheepish flush creeping onto his cheeks. He sits down on the bench in the locker room, one hand in his head, the other one holding the empty soap bottle.

Sharing the same soap isn't a thing friends do, Buck.

"...Would it kill you to at least buy a refill?" Were instead the softly muttered words Eddie let out of his lips, only for himself to hear in the middle of the empty locker room, as the evening light bathes the 118 in gold.

[ahb-writes]

8 Ways to Write More, More Often:

Set smart goals and stretch goals. Smart goals are specific, measurable, attainable, realistic and time-based. Stretch goals are the little bit extra you can reach if a writing session goes well.

Build small habits. Small habits are easier to build than large ones. Writing fifty words every day for a week can become 500 words daily more easily than starting with a big and daunting target. Big habits begin small. Consider establishing a system that works, instead of setting lofty goals that you aren't quite sure how to reach.

Work on perspective and your locus of control. "Locus of control" refers to whether a person sees events as unfolding due to external forces more, or due to their own agency and action. Keep reading for more on how this connects to productivity. Keeping productive (not just in writing) comes easier to people when they believe in their own agency, in the power of actions they take to create the outcomes they want.

Check in with a productivity or writing coach. If you struggle with creating the systems and accountability to stay productive, ask for help. A writing buddy or coach can hold you accountable with kindness and thoughtful, measured input. A writing coach helps through a combination of discussion about your work and ideas, feedback on writing identifying improvement areas and providing stimulating questions and/or suggestions, and encouragement and support when you most need them.

Embrace the motivating power of groups and teams. Writing is a solitary pursuit but a caring writing group may help you sustain your commitment to your story. It's easier to keep showing up together. The best writing groups provide a safe place to find something like beta readers who are writers, too. A place to renew your focus through productive discussion.

Use planning and productivity tools. Calendars, spreadsheets, or a place where you record your daily writing streaks help you keep track of progress. Your story planning tools may be as simple as a calendar to set alarmed reminders for writing sessions or sprints, or a more complex system.

Build in vital breaks. Build breaks into your writing routine – self-care keeps muses happy. In planning smart goals and stretch goals, writing sprints and sessions, remember to build in breaks. Not writing is not necessarily not writing. Burnout is both easy to reach and easy to avoid.

Feed your writing focus. What are the ingredients of better productivity in writing and other endeavors? Motivation. Focus. Intention. Discipline. Identify your best creative environment. Eliminate prominent distractions. Schedule focused time.

[askbensolo]

Have u ever tried caffeine?

Tried caffeine? Buddy, I’m practically in rehab for caffeine.

Just kidding.

I’m suffering because I woke up too late to make my own caf today and now I'm hanging out at Mom’s office, trying vainly to crawl from one hour to the next on cup after cup of weak bean-water. For frick's sake! I might just go with the tea—I'll bet even that packs a harder punch.

Oh! So you know how I started buying whole beans instead of pre-ground caf, right? Well, I gave up on my electric grinder already and bought a hand-grinder, since it’s supposed to get a more even grind. Haven’t used it yet, but I will soon.

Speaking of caffeine—I also drink energy drinks when I’m at the gym. It’s funny, because the packaging is gendered enough to be a little hilarious. Now, there might be some case for making energy drinks intended for a female market in a smaller size, given that women are generally smaller than guys and require a smaller dose of caffeine…but, it doesn’t really explain why the girls’ energy drinks are all called, like, Scarif Beach Peach Tropical Goddess Queen Vibes and the guys’ ones are, like, Dark Cherry Dathomirian Nightbrother Rage Fuel.

…Wanna know a secret?

Scarif Beach Peach is actually my favorite flavor

Okay, I’ve got my tea and I’m gonna hit the keyboard now. I’m like 80% through the second draft of my novel, with over 80,000 words. Amalia said she’d beta-read for me. I’d ask Poe or Treeso, too, but…I don’t think it’s really realistic for me to ask either of them to touch a book.

Oh, hey! I wonder what’re the odds that Poe’s roommate Armitage would do it. He seems like the kind of person who has probably read something in the last decade. Sure, he hates my guts, and I don’t really like him either…but at least I’d know his feedback was honest!

[snowbrowth]

Work of Art

written for my buddy @vampthropologist for no particular reason, to test writing gore, and as a debut of sorts for this godforsaken blog :)

things to note: no use of y/n, background akaza x reader, swap au, cannibalism, gore, unreliable narrator (to the best of my never-done-this-before ability), not beta read because this is for my beta reader

Oh, this one.

This one should be easy. 

If only it wasn’t for that damn Hashira knocking him off and fleeing. What a Hashira he was. But he faced you instead.

You, a haggard-looking Demon Slayer, possibly new. Possibly a Mizunoto, but that’s a little hopeful. Drenched in your own blood, you’ve misplaced your sword; even the sheath is gone. 

A low ranked, unarmed Demon Slayer in front of a rather normal, hungry demon.

I’m a dead man.

Still, you stood your ground. Perhaps you could wrestle this thing until sunrise. Judging by the placement of the moon in the sky, you might. You aren’t to wed Hakuji-san for no reason, anyway.

As the demon generated a weapon from his hand, you took stance, ready to fight this damn thing. 

The smell it made was rather nice. Like a summer barbecue during a festival of some sort. Like fried food, or fresh mochi, or cute little sausages. You try not to salivate.

“...It looks kind of… chipped?” You taunted, just to determine if you were hallucinating such a delicious scent. You try not to salivate.

And oh dear, he did not like it.

Naturally, the taunt worked. He lunged at you for insulting his work, naturally. The smell was real.

In a moment, your arm was lopped off, and you couldn’t really feel any two ways about it.

In the next moment, it’s back. Maybe the demon realised his mistake the second he got close to you and couldn’t stop moving. Maybe he’s only realised it after smelling blood that is certainly not human at all.

But he’s rather stupid and childish, so all he did was get more upset. Which is silly; he’d get himself killed that way. Not that you’d really feel any sort of connection with another demon. 

This one should be easy.

You kept your cool and approached the demon, who refused to back down and just readied his sword once again. All you do is simply grab the blade. Cool blood trickled down your arm, staining the white of your uniform red, but it disappeared in a single blink.

He yelled at you to let go, but who in their right mind would listen? Your grip is much too strong to wiggle out of. He couldn’t seem to sever your fingers like he did your arm a moment ago.

The blade snapped, and all you could do was chuckle at his fury.

“Can’t you just make another?” You asked without any sort of real concern. How could he get any angrier.

He shoved you off.

You lunged at him in return, sinking sharp nails into his pretty face, pinning him down and quickly sinking your teeth into his shoulder. All he did was growl and attempt to regenerate, but you kept your fangs in him. 

Right you were; he tasted rather nice. Like a summer barbecue during a festival of some sort. Like fried food, or fresh mochi, or cute little sausages. The nostalgia makes you giddy.

Your head ripped up to pull the flesh from his body. He slowly regenerated it back, but his flesh did not agree with your saliva in the wound. He seemed to be conflicted on what to feel, but he ultimately remained fighting. You never cared much for how he scratched you, stabbed you, or bit you back. But it was very clearly not with the same intention you had.

As if the man were human and you were a regular, brainwashed, starved demon in Final Selection, you ripped out chunks of his flesh. Nice, savoury-sweet flesh. It didn’t matter from where, he tasted so divine. You don’t get to eat too often. The smell of human flesh is revolting, like rotting pork. Human blood tastes like dirt. Demon flesh always tastes different, and strong demons always taste better.

Maybe there’s an exception for you. Maybe the demons are just straight up wrong or bad at fighting each other. 

The smell of ash filled the air, as if the event was ending.

But you didn’t want to waste such a lovely meal. Even if you never particularly wanted to eat too fast, you ate faster. Eating another demon always directly made you stronger, after all. The added taste is just that: added.

In a moment, his skin turned orange and plum, veins visible, sclera red, muscle and viscera visible, but that last one was your doing from consuming the man. 

In the next moment, he was a pile of ash and blood and sunflowers given up on by his owner for rejecting his cells.

Hotaru?

You’ll forget it sooner or later.

The Hashira returned and instinctively grabbed his sword at the first sight of a demon over a dead human. But you are not a demon over a dead human, you are a demon Slayer over another demon which is totally different, yet still disturbing all the same.

A small snicker rose from your bloodied throat. He’ll always react like this. You know your fiancé too well.

[thedreamworldlibrary]

Show Me Your Brave Heart Chapter 2- First Day Chaos

Here is the next chapter! I’m glad you are all enjoying this so far, and I’m having fun writing this AU!  Also writing this AU got me back into my Digimon hyperfixation and I’ve been creating Digimon related stuff behind the scenes.

Okay to any Digimon fan reading this, YES you are allowed to imagine Brave Heart playing in the background in any of the fight scenes.

Also in this AU, Digimon have pronouns, so Dorumon uses He/Them pronouns.

Thanks to @gigilefache for being my beta reader!

Enjoy!!

It was early in the morning, and Wiatt was packing his stuff up for his first day of school. As he was putting his binder away, a small purple and white blob-like creature popped up from the box watching the young boy put the last of his stuff in his backpack.

“Do you have to go?” The creature asked.

“Yes, Dorimon,” Wiatt answered.

Dorimon puffed up his cheeks, upset that his friend had to go to school instead of spending time with him.

“However, that doesn’t mean you left home alone.” Wiatt opened his bag, signaling the creature that he’s welcome to come with him. This made Dorimon smile as he leaped from the box and into his partner’s backpack. “Just stay quiet and lay low. Once you're somewhere safe you can appear.”

“Thanks, Wiatt.” Dorimon beamed.

Wiatt smiled, “No problem little buddy.” He replied, zipping his backpack just enough for his partner to breathe.

Wiatt was ready to leave for school before he turned back to the shoebox that sat on his desk. He debated whether or not he should bring it with him. While thinking, a knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Wiatt!” Wiatt’s father, Owen exclaimed. “Are you ready for school?”

“I am!” Wiatt replied, turning to his father with a smile.

Owen chuckled. “Alright, there are three kids waiting on you.” He said ruffling his son’s hair.

Wiatt nodded and went downstairs, knowing Lewis kept his promise of walking with him and his friends to school.

Outside, Lewis, Oliver, and Sara waited on Wiatt. Out of the three, Sara wasn’t pleased having the new kid join them on their walk to school. Oliver took notice of his best friend and put his arm around her.

Sara sighed, “Why does he need to join us?” She asked, causing Oliver to let go of his friend.

Lewis frowned, “darling, Wiatt is new here, and I invited him to join us.” He explained.

The young girl glared, crossing her arms and turning away from her friend. Lewis and Oliver looked at each other, and the latter decided to speak. 

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” Oliver said, hoping to lighten the mood.

Sara still wasn’t convinced. Soon, she and her friends turned around to see Wiatt come out of his house.

“Uh…hi Lewis,” Wiatt said, blushing a bit.

“Morning darling,” Lewis replied with a smile.

Sara looked between the new kid and her best friend and ended up glaring at the former. Wiatt gulped feeling a bit uncomfortable about the girl.

Lewis chuckled nervously and decided to introduce his friends to Wiatt. “Uh darling, these are my two best friends: Oliver Acrimony and Sara Covetman.”

“Uh…hi Wiatt,” Oliver said, waving to Wiatt.

“Hi there,” Wiatt replied. He then turned to Sara who glared and turned away from him. “Uh…hi Sara.”

Lewis gave Sara a slight nudge to say hi to his new friend. She rolled her eyes, “hi.” She said, not looking at the new kid.

Wiatt was confused as to why Sara was cold towards him and decided to keep her distance from her. Lewis put his hand on his shoulder, making the boy slightly blush.

“Don’t worry darling, Sara takes time to open up,” Lewis reassured him.

“Oh…okay,” Wiatt replied.

“Well, let’s get going. We don’t want to be late.” Sara spoke up as she led the group to school.

“R-Right,” Oliver replied following his friend, with Lewis and Wiatt following behind. As the group walked, Dorimon sighed as he took a peek and saw some of the sights, even if very little through Wiatt’s backpack.

Once at school, Lewis, Oliver, and Sara were in their homeroom class. The three had to separate with Wiatt, as he needed to pick up his schedule. 

Lewis was worried for Wiatt, even though the other boy told him he’d be fine.

Soon, the door opened and Lewis’s teacher, Eric Gale walked in. Lewis smiled seeing Wiatt right behind him.

“Alright class,” Eric started, “this here is Wiatt Nicholson, our new student.”

Wiatt saw the class look at him nervously before whispering to one another. “We hadn’t had a new kid in forever.” One boy whispered.

“Weird, a new kid showed up with what’s going on around town.” A girl whispered to her friend.

Wiatt felt nervous, but once turning to Lewis and his friends the young boy smiled and gave him a thumbs up that he’ll be alright. Wiatt smiled back knowing Lewis had his back.

“Mr. Gale!” A girl called out, as she raised her hand.

Wiatt, Eric, and the class turned to a young girl with blonde hair with the tips dyed blue tied into a ponytail, and yellow eyes. She wore a blue and red dress over a blue shirt.

“If it’s okay, Mike and I have a free seat between us.” The girl said, offering the seat between her and her friend.

Eric nodded, “of course Alyssa.” He looked over at Wiatt, who nodded back as he walked over and sat next to the girl and boy.

“Hi Wiatt. I’m Alyssa, and this is Mike.” Alyssa introduced herself and pointed at her friend.

“Nice to meet you, Wiatt,” Mike said waving to the other boy.

Wiatt saw Mike had a bead bracelet with the colors of the trans flag on it. Mike noticed his bracelet was showing, but soon Wiatt showed he had the same bracelet too.

Mike smiled and chuckled seeing he wasn’t the only one.

“Well, since it’s Monday and we’ve got a new student, why don’t we take it easy and introduce ourselves to Wiatt,” Eric suggested.

The class got excited they didn’t have to do much work and got to talk to the new kid for the rest of the class. The class turned to Wiatt and started to ask the new kid questions, which Wiatt was ready to answer.

“So why did you and your family move here?” A girl asked.

“Well, it’s just me and my dad at the moment, we figured we didn’t need to stay in a bigger house,” Wiatt answered.

“What do you like to do Wiatt?” A boy asked.

“I love making movies, oh, and fixing things.”

Lewis smiled, seeing that Wiatt was easy to get along with.

Sara on the other hand glared at the new kid, still not trusting him. Lewis frowned seeing his best friend being stubborn as always.

“Hey, Wiatt!” A boy called out.

Wiatt turned to see two kids, a boy and a girl walk over to him. The girl had pink hair tied into a ponytail Wearing a blue jacket over a black t-shirt with a shooting star with purple and yellow stars, jeans, and blue and white Converse shoes. Her friend had brown hair with the tips of his bangs dyed blue and a part of his bangs covering his eye. He wore a black hoodie, sweatpants, and black and white Converse.

“Before moving here, have you heard the stories of monsters lurking around this town?” He asked.

“Hayden! Don’t scare him!” A girl snapped back.

“N-No it’s alright,” Wiatt reassured his classmates. “I’ve  heard about the monsters lurking around the town, however, it doesn’t bother me.”

This impressed his classmates, but like Sara, Hayden felt this kid was odd.

As Sara continued to glare at the new kid, she took notice that his bag was shaking a bit. “Huh?” Sara asked. She looked at her classmates wondering if they saw Wiatt’s bag moving too, however, most were interested in talking with him not knowing that something was inside his bag.

“Hmm…” Sara wondered, narrowing her eyes at Wiatt’s backpack.

The rest of the school day was normal for Wiatt. Nothing special, and Dorimon stayed in Wiatt’s bag all day, especially during lunch. Wiatt was able to sneak some food into his backpack to feed his little friend, which also made Sara more suspicious of him. Yet no one noticed it.

By the time school ended for the day, Wiatt was ready to go home, but not before being stopped by Lewis.

“Darling.” Lewis started.

“Hmmm,” Wiatt replied, turning to his friend.

“Are you free today?” Lewis asked.

Wiatt shook his head, “if you count doing some unpacking, then no.”

“Perfect, I want to take you somewhere,” Lewis said. “Follow me.”

Wiatt followed his friend upstairs and started to walk through the empty hallways. “So what did you want to show me?” Wiatt asked.

“Well darling,” Lewis started. “My friends and I have a club meeting every day after school, and we want you to be a part of it.”

“Club meeting?”

“Right, it’s something related to the monsters going on in our town,” Lewis explained.

Wiatt’s eyes widened, “o-oh!” He glanced at his backpack, where Dorimon was hiding. 

The monster squeaked but used his paws to cover his mouth in hopes to not get spotted.

“Well…” Wiatt trailed off as he thought about it a little harder. A part of him wanted to tell Lewis and his friends the truth about these monsters, but would they believe him? It was a risk, but he was willing to explain everything to Lewis and his friends, maybe then Sara would go easy on him. “Alright.”

“Splendid!” Lewis beamed. He then took Wiatt’s hand, who quickly blushed at the gesture, “Come on!” Lewis and Wiatt quickly went to the club room. He opened the door quickly causing Sara and Oliver to jump and turn towards their friend. “Hey guys, we got a new member!”

Wiatt came into view and gave a small smile. Sara glared while Oliver smiled. “O-Oh Wiatt, are you going to join us?” Oliver asked.

“I guess I am,” Wiatt answered.

Sara groaned as she walked over to Lewis, “Lewis, why did you bring him here?” She asked.

“You did say you were looking for new club members, darling,” Lewis answered.

“Y-Yeah, but…” Sara trailed off.

“But what darling?” Lewis asked.

Sara was about to answer, but Wiatt spoke up.

“You don’t trust me, don’t know?” Wiatt asked, glaring. Everyone turned to face the smaller boy. He was tired of Sara’s behavior since he met her. “You know since this morning you barely talked to me or even been nice to me.”

Sara glared back. “You know, since you moved in you’ve been hiding something from all of us.”

“I’m not hiding anything.” Wiatt lied, pulling his backpack.

“So why was your backpack shaking earlier?�� Sara asked, getting close to Wiatt’s face.

“What do you mean?” Wiatt asked.

“Don’t play dumb with me!”

Lewis stood between his two friends in order to break up the argument. “Okay, you two break it up!” Lewis shouted.

Wiatt and Sara growled at each other. “I won’t till he reveals what’s in his bag!” Sara yelled.

“Darling, you're taking this too far!” Lewis argued. “I know you’ve been into this whole monster discovery, but you're blaming Wiatt for no reason!”

As Lewis continued to scold Sara, Oliver heard static coming from the computer. He turned, seeing a silhouette appear and disappear. Oliver looked horrified and stepped back when suddenly the lights started to flicker.

Lewis stopped and, along with Sara and Wiatt saw the classroom lights flickering on and off. Soon static came from the computer and then all the lights turned off leaving the four kids in the dark.

Oliver yelped and held onto Sara tight, shivering in fear. Sara slowly removed her friend from her and groaned. “Great! The power is out and it’s all Wiatt’s fault!” She exclaimed.

“No,” Wiatt spoke up. “It’s their fault.”

“Who darling?” Lewis asked.

Wiatt pointed at the computer and saw a claw coming out from the screen. Lewis and his friend's eyes widened and shivered in horror. Soon a gray head with antennae, and round green eyes came out of the computer screen chuckling evilly as he backed the four into a corner.

“Them,” Wiatt answered.

Soon more of the creature’s body appeared showing a frill around its neck, long and thin arms, with a symbol on the back of their hands, and its body was made of strips of flesh that dangled separately on the lower end.

Sara squeaked in horror and went to the door and tried to open it, only for the door to lock itself trapping her and her friends.

“Oh great it’s locked!” She yelled.

Lewis and Oliver tried to get the door open as well, but no luck. “Come on. Come on.” Oliver repeated as he tried to get the door open. 

The creature chuckled as he got closer to them, and with the door not opening they were done for.

“Leave them alone you big bully!” Dorimon shouted as he jumped out of Wiatt’s bag, and tackled the creature to the wall. The creature slammed into the wall and slowly got up, growling at the creature who tackled him.

Dorimon growled as he stood in front of Wiatt and his friends. Sara and his friend’s eyes widened in shock, seeing Wiatt secretly had a monster in his backpack.

“What in the!?” Sara exclaimed.

“Is that a-” Lewis spoke up.

“A monster?” Oliver finished, looking frightened.

Dorimon and the creature growled at one another ready to fight. “Wiatt, we need to fight now.” He said.

Wiatt nodded, “right.”

Sara’s eyes widened, “w-wait! Wait! Fight!?”

Wiatt takes out a small device from his pocket, which is yellow with orange buttons. He held it out as it glowed and soon Dorimon started to glow too.

 “Are you ready?” Wiatt asked.

“Ready!” Dorimon replied.

Wiatt’s device started to glow and send a light toward Dorimon which engulfed them.

“Dorimon, Digivolve too…Dorumon!”

Dorimon, or now Dorumon was now bigger, looking like a beast like. They had purple and white fur, a large vulpine tail, two pointed ears with black stripes, and a pair of small black wings. On top of his head was a red triangle gem.

Lewis and his friends gasped seeing the small monster Wiatt had now grown bigger.

Dorumon growled at the evil Digimon, who snickered seeing he found a worthy opponent to battle. The evil monster then let out a powerful bullet from its mouth, which hit Dorumon, but not enough to take him down.

“Oh yeah! Metal Canon!” Dorumon shouted, as he launched an iron sphere from his mouth, which pushed the evil monster away, slamming the creature into the wall.

“Wow.” Lewis and Oliver commented.

Sara didn’t say anything and instead she took photos of Dorumon and the monster they were battling.

The evil creature chuckled and went to grab Dorumon. They held onto the other monster tight, but not before Dorumon bit the evil monster in the hand causing it to screech in pain and let go.

Dorumon started to glow a purple aura and was gearing up to ram towards the evil monster. “Hyper! Metal! Dash!” He shouted as he ran and tackled the monster into the wall again, this time it had enough force to leave a crater in the classroom.

The evil monster chuckled, as they got up. They saw Dorumon was equally matched. With a chuckle, they retreated back into the computer in hopes to battle Dorumon again once he’s stronger. Once leaving, the lights came on, leaving everyone relieved.

“Thank goodness that’s over.” Lewis sighed in relief.

“Yeah!” Oliver replied, chuckling in relief.

“How cool was that!” Dorumon cheered.

Wiatt went over to his friend and petted him. “You're strong as always, Dorumon.” He replied.

“Dorumon?” Lewis and his friends asked at the same time.

Wiatt nodded. Dorumon got nervous and gave a low growl to the trio, however Wiatt reassured his monster friend. “Dorumon don’t worry there my friends.”

“You sure, because one of them sounds like a pain,” Dorumon growled, glaring at Sara.

“H-Hey!” Sara snapped. 

Wiatt chuckled, “Lewis, this is Dorumon. My partner.” He introduced his monster to Lewis and his friends.

“Your partner?” Lewis and his friends asked at the same time.

“Yep!” Dorumon confirmed.

Sara blinked a few times as her mouth was open in shock, “s-so you partnered with a monster?!” She asked. Wiatt and Dorumon nodded in sync. “S-So care to explain what was that…that…thing!”

“Keramon.” Wiatt corrected.

“Kera what now?” Sara asked.

“Keramon. It’s a Digimon.” Wiatt explained.

“A Digi-what now?!” Lewis asked.

“A Digimon,” Dorumon spoke up, causing everyone to face him. “It’s short for Digital Monsters.”

Lewis and his friends were still confused and shocked. The monster Wiatt owns and the monster that just attacked them and escaped are called Digimon?

Lewis looked at his friends, before turning to Wiatt. “Darling, do you know what’s going on here?” He asked

Wiatt nodded. “It would be best if I told you back at my place.”

[in-my-loki-feels]

11, 16, and 17 for the fic writer asks!

11. Link your three favorite fics right now.

I originally thought this was a request for fic recs, but all the questions in the game are about your own writing so I guess that's what it means? (Imma do both.😁)

Three favorite fics of my own right now: Beg Me For It, Let Me See You, Feelin Nauti

Three current favs by others: Kneel for Me, Rein Me In, wait for me at the bottom (a Thanzag rec for you!)

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

My god, so many. At least 7, but I could be forgetting some. I don't think I've had this many ideas tumbling in my head since the AC2 days. 😆

I have one idea for the President Loki + Don AU where Loki would not only get to take on a female form, but also goes head-to-head with Don's ex-wife (which sounds way more dramatic than it is). I keep setting it aside because it feels like a lesser plot point in that AU and I'd probably be writing it to indulge myself more than others.

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

Perfect timing for this question as the wip I'm currently working on is making writing feel VERY difficult right now. If I'm totally blocked or I can't figure out what's wrong with a story/it just doesn't feel right, the first thing I should do is step away and see if the next step comes to me naturally, instead of trying to force it. However, I rarely follow that advice because I'm a clown.

The next step is to reach out for help. Either a beta reader in fandom, or my bestie whose also been my writing buddy for many, many years. No matter the fandom or subject, we can turn to each other, and since she has no emotional investment in the characters, sometimes she can see the problem more clearly.

If it's a lack of inspiration, then I usually seek out some new media to consume. One of my favorite pieces of writing advice is: if you want to be a writer, you need to read a lot and write a lot. Reading, watching a TV show or movie, or listening to new music activates my brain and usually leads to new ideas.

Thank you for the ask! <3

[adminbryantsaki]

Chapter 7. The call.

(This Au will follow the main events of the canon. In this AU, the tropes of fantasy and Omegaverse apply. The dynamics that can apply to people are Alpha, Luna, Beta, and Omega. The main ship is Erasermic x oc. I do not own the characters of My Hero Academia. Horikoshi Kōhei does. I also don’t own any of the fast-food franchises or any of the other references to other super hero movies or groups.  I own Bryant Saki. Here is her info Please do not steal.)

(These are the Headcanons. Please read these before the fic.

Wc:4,942 Tw: Omegaverse Shenanigans, polygamy, PTSD, Breeding kink, Breeding, trauma, fear, ED (eating disorder).

Prologue Chapter Six ~ Chapter Eight

I waited with Hunter on the train, watching the little screen near the door that separated the train cars that tracked the train’s route and waited until we arrived at Esuha Station where I could see Taishiro waiting for me on the platform. Hunter accompanied me as we got off the train and he followed me to where Taishiro stood, waving me down even though both Hunter and I could see him. When we approached the hero, Hunter stopped in front of him in a professional manner, holding out his hand for the hero to shake. “Hello, my name is Admin Hunter Smith. Admin Bryant needs to be accompanied to her residence with you as a punishment for not following protocol today. I will follow you until the two of you get to your doorstep. Are there any detours that the two of you would be taking on your trip home?” Hunter asked. Taishiro looked at Hunter then at me with a confused look on his face before looking back at Hunter again. “I typically buy Bryant some food for when she gets back from work. I want to get her something special to celebrate her first day working at U.A. like I did when she had her first day at the radio station. But now I’m confused. Why and how did she get punished on her first day?” He asked.

“Its only a minor punishment that I’m sure Admin Bryant will tell you all about it as she’s permitted to since you’re her roommate. You may go ahead and take her on the route to get food to celebrate her first day as an Admin at U.A. High. I will still have to tag along though to ensure that she will get home to the apartment above your agency.” Hunter spoke before going to check something on his tablet. “Hey, listen, buddy. I can make sure Bryant gets home alright. She clearly looks exhausted and needs to unwind and relax without you watching her every move. Tell whoever your boss is that I am more than capable of making sure she gets home.” Taishiro spoke in a slightly defensive tone and putting one of his large hands, on Hunter’s shoulder, even though only a couple fingers fit due to him being is his larger form at the time. Hunter sighed and typed something into his tablet and a quick response came which he read quickly and looked up to him. “Alright. You can walk her home unaccompanied by me or any other Admin.” Hunter spoke and tucked his tablet back under his arm and turned to me.

“I will see you at Musutafu Station tomorrow morning, Admin Bryant. I wish you a good evening and a good rest.” He spoke and left to get back on the train to head home himself. I turned to Taishiro and laughed a little. “He is a bit uptight; don’t you think?” I asked as I took off my dark sunglasses that hid my bright green eyes and looked at him. “Yeah, definitely. So, tell me how your first day was as an Admin and what this punishment is that Hunter talked about.” He spoke, walked with me out of the train station, and walked to a restaurant that I requested to go to earlier that day. “It went alright. I did get reprimanded for spending my lunch hour with two of the people I was assigned instead of going to meet up with the other Admins I was supposed to spend my lunch hour with. Then the same two people that I wasn’t supposed to spend my lunch with hopped on the train to defend me against Hunter before we arrived here.” I told him as he counted out money for me to go into the restaurant because the building was too small for him to enter in his larger form. “What? That’s stupid.” He spoke as we arrived at the restaurant and bought the food for us. I came out a few minutes later with two bags of food in hand and gave him the change before we continued to the Agency. “That’s what I was thinking and the other two people said on the train.” I spoke then thought back to the way Shouta and Hizashi championed me on the train and I blushed a little, looking down to the concrete of the sidewalk. Taishiro noticed and chuckled. “Oooh, someone’s got a crush on at least one of these two mysterious people. Are you gonna tell me who they are?” He asked as we got closer to the agency. “No, I do not. Developing any more feelings for these people after today would not be a smart move.” I spoke as I turned the corner and went down the short, yet spacious alleyway that led to the front door of the agency and a flight of stairs was behind the door too that led up to the apartment.

“I see. Let’s head up and eat. I bet you’re exhausted.” He spoke as he unlocked the door and let me go in first which I thanked him and climbed the stairs to unlock the door to the apartment, take my shoes off before entering and heading inside. I set the food on the counter and went to my room to change out of my Admin uniform and into something more comfortable, making sure to set my suit up for tomorrow morning. I put my hair up into a low bun and left my room, finding Taishiro already laying out the boxes of food on the breakfast bar and opening them to display the food. I went to the cupboard and pulled down two plates and pulled out two pairs of chopsticks to eat the food with. I then climbed onto my favorite chair along the breakfast bar and began to fill up my plate with food.

On the other side of the country, Shouta and Hizashi had almost made their way home from getting dinner. Hizashi had gotten distracted by wanting to get boba tea as well to accompany their dinners even though they were both sipping on their drinks on the final leg of their walk back to Hizashi’s car by the school. Neither of them didn’t like walking so far for so long at night, especially after a long day, but Shouta didn’t complain as he was urged to get home so they could eat and call Bryant afterwards. Also the coffee flavored boba that he chose helped too. “I have a good feeling about her. Should we wait a bit to call her when we get home or do you think that would be too early?” Shouta asked as he fiddled with Hizashi’s fingers. “I do too as I see her around the station all the time.” Hizashi responded as he noticed Shouta’s anxious fidgeting.

“We can call her after dinner if you want. I can tell that you’re anxious to call her.” Hizashi spoke as they arrived at the teacher’s parking lot.   “I am. But with you seeing her at the station, that means you can bond with her there too, huh?” He asked as they walked past the parking lot and back onto the campus, walking back to the teacher’s dormitory. “Not really. She mostly hides at her desk since she’s one of the script writers for us. I could invite her to lunch or to get coffee sometime to try and get to know her better.” Hizashi spoke as he put the key into the ignition.

“Well, we will have to see.” Shouta responded as Hizashi drove them home.

Back at Fatgum’s Agency, I had picked out what food I wanted to start with and I was eating at my food as Taishiro and I were talking about how our days went. “You didn’t tell me who you got assigned to at the school. You can’t evade me forever… unless it’s something you can’t talk about.” He spoke as he took a bite of food. “You’re fine to talk to about most things I deal with. That includes the people who I’m assigned to. Most Admins though call the people they are assigned to ‘characters.’ It’s a bit dehumanizing especially to the people who have quirks that make them look different.” I told him and took a bite and ate it. “I see and that’s kinda wrong. But you’re still avoiding the question. Who did you get assigned?” He pressed. I set my plate down and sighed. I told him that I got assigned the faculty and staff of the school which included Present Mic and Eraserhead… which were the same people who hopped on the train and defended me against Hunter. This only made Taishiro more and more excited. “OOOH I KNEW IT!” He exclaimed. He then settled down and looked at me.

“But why would you get punished for trying to make friends at work?” He asked. “Because, Admins in the past have gotten too close to the people they have been assigned to and used their relationships to disrupt their timelines. Disrupting a timeline is very bad and considered illegal in the Admin Agencies.” I explained and he nodded. “Its still cool that you got assigned those people. Eraserhead can be a handful though he prefers to work alone and he’s known for being an underground hero, saying that the media meddling in a hero’s business interferes with their work, so you aren’t going to find much press about him.” Taishiro told me as I ate.

Hizashi unlocked the door to the building they lived in during the school year. The dormitories had been there long before they had attended the school and were used to help keep students safe when they would be experiencing their heats or ruts while at school as there were special rooms they could spend their rut or heat in with their bond mate if they had one or spend it alone. The teacher and faculty building was a bit bigger since they had small, one-bedroom or two-bedroom apartments instead of normal dormitory rooms that they would live in during the school year. The layout of the building was a typical common room with a kitchen, a workout/gym area with showers connected, and an office area on the bottom floor. Each room was specially soundproofed so no one would be disturbed if someone was on their heat or rut. Any of the people living on campus could stay on campus during summer and winter breaks which was a normal circumstance while others would either live in a hotel, rent a temporary apartment, or live with family members during the longer holidays.

But Hizashi and Shouta entered their apartment building and took their shoes off and placed them by the door before going up to their home and getting comfortable for the evening. Shouta set the food and drinks on the counter in their kitchen before flopping on the couch and letting out a groan of relief that they were finally home. “I’m going to get changed before we eat, okay? My pants are getting itchy.” Hizashi spoke, slipping into their bedroom and changing out of his hero costume and into something more comfortable. He also changed into his Naga form, letting his legs fuse back together to form the long, thick, and powerful tail that he was born with. Shouta knew that he was long overdue to change back since they had a long day of work. Hizashi slithered out of their bedroom wearing a long t-shirt that had a logo on it advertising his radio show on it and he went into the kitchen to retrieve the food and join his partner on the couch and dish out the food between them. I finished my food then checked my phone for any notice of a phone call or even a text. Nothing. I sighed to myself and looked to Taishiro. “I’m going to just hang out in my room until they call. Thanks for the food, Taishiro.” I spoke and hopped off the stool, heading into my room and picking up my tablet and began to process other variables from the day, anxiously waiting for them to call.

After they ate, Shouta looked at the number on the card, now really amping to call her but he wanted to wait for Hizashi to make the call. “Come in here and call her already. I can feel you ready to burst with excitement.” Hizashi called from the bedroom as he was prepping his nest for the night.  

Shouta entered the room and laid out on the queen-sized bed and dialed her number, putting the call on speaker as Hizashi was getting himself comfortable in his nest. The phone rang for a few seconds before I picked up. I had been putting on my pjs when I had heard my phone ring on my bed since I had tossed it there. I rushed over, picked the device up and answered.

“Hello? This is Admin Bryant speaking.” I spoke. “Hello. This is Shouta and Hizashi Aizawa from on the train and at school earlier. I’m sorry that we got you in trouble and made such a big deal on the train.” I heard Shouta speak. I felt myself relax at hearing his voice over the phone. “Are you going to get in more trouble for talking to us over the phone tonight?” I heard Hizashi ask from a distance. “No. Hunter made sure that my phone wouldn’t be listened to and cover for me tonight; besides, I’m not the first Admin to cause trouble like this.” I responded and shook my head, knowing they couldn’t see me.

“Good. I’m glad. What did you want to talk about.” I heard Shouta respond.

“Well, I was beginning to think that you two wouldn’t even call; I’m glad you did though. What I wanted to ask is more so confirming something that Hunter told me after the two of you left the train… Is it true that after all this time, even though I’ve only known Hizashi by working with him for the past year, that the two of you have developed feelings for me?” I asked, feeling my face heat up as I spoke. I could hear them hesitate as their side of the call feel silent. I had a feeling that Shouta and Hizashi were looking at each other, deciding on who would speak next. “Yes. We do have feelings for you. Hizashi might know you better than I do but I’m willing to get to know you on my own.” I heard Shouta speak after a few moments of silence. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I heard those words.

“I’m glad. I am a bit curious too. Did the two of you have feelings for me back on the roof? Because I like the two of you back but you both are married to each other… I don’t know if I should even have these feelings after all this time. I know you heard me back in April of last year when I didn’t have control of my telepathy but I still think that what I’m feeling is wrong.” I confessed. I knew they were married. It said so in their files and it made my heart plummet when I read that fact when browsing over their files. I didn’t encourage the hope of them having any sort of feelings for me when I was learning how to be an Admin and beginning my job at the radio station and working close with Hizashi. I didn’t pursue anything thinking that two of them were gay and didn’t have any romantic or sexual attraction to women at all. I didn’t know this at the time but Hizashi looked to Shouta with a look that told him ‘I told you so’ before either of them spoke up again.

“We did have feelings for you on the roof and those feelings started when we met you a year ago. Those feelings never wavered or left us. If you’re worried about us being married or us being gay, darling. Don’t worry. We like both men and women. We’re also looking to form a pack; Shouta and I have decided that you’re perfect for us, only if you’ll have us.” Hizashi spoke, probably grinning like he normally did when he spoke.

“If we think this way, that we like you and you like us back, what’s wrong with that then? We want to get to know you better even though you probably know everything about us from that tablet of yours. Is there a way we can get to know you better without you getting in trouble?” Shouta’s voice sounded through the speaker of the phone.

“But there’s something inside me still that’s tugging at my mind, telling me that this is wrong.” I spoke before remembered something and pulled up a list of rules regarding Admins and the people they are assigned. “If we’re going forward with this, there are a couple of papers that the two of you would have to sign. In my opinion, they are stupid papers but they’ve been put here as a good precaution because of Admins in the present and in the past having defected from their agencies and preventing variables that harm their people that they have been assigned.” I spoke as I pulled up the papers and hesitated.

“But then we would have to show the Higher-ups, specifically Hunter since he wants to see me develop a relationship with the two of you. He will help make sure that I don’t get in trouble. I just have to make sure that whatever we develop doesn’t get in my way of being an Admin.” I spoke as I beginning to get nervous again.

“I know why they’ve put these rules in place especially for newer Admins like me is so that we don’t defect. Most Admins don’t defect. Its more of the Admins assigned to villains that defect and cause problems.” I added, beginning to ramble. “Well, when the time comes, we will sign the papers. Besides. This means we can talk and get to know each other without you getting in trouble.” Shouta spoke.

“It would be best to get the papers signed sooner rather than later. Because neither of you can bond-mark me or mate with me until those papers are signed and processed through the Higher-ups. I also know that Shouta is an Alpha with a creature gene and Hizashi is a Luna with a Naga creature gene. The two of you know I’m a Luna so that’s already taken care of.” I spoke as I heard a gentle knock at the door, knowing it was Taishiro, probably checking on me before he went to bed. I heard Shouta say something before I got up to answer the door. “Of course. Just bring them to us before class whenever you can get them to us. Just give us the word and we will sign them. Do you need us to be quiet so you can answer the door?” He asked.

“I’ll bring them tomorrow so the two of you can read them over and sign them. Just for a moment. Its just Taishiro checking on me.” I told them and went to the door, seeing an excited Taishiro on the other side. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I was wondering if you wanted anything else before I headed to bed.” He asked. “I’ll be fine for now, thanks for checking in. I’ll probably heat something up before I go to sleep. Don’t worry. I’ve been doing better on eating. Night, Taishiro.” I spoke.

“Okay, don’t be up too late with those two, okay? You still have work in the morning. Night, Bryant.” He spoke and left me be to go to his room and sleep.  “I’m back, sorry to keep the two of you waiting.” I spoke when I returned to my bed to talk with them more. I heard Shouta chuckling as he heard Taishiro telling me to not stay up late.

“We are looking forward to signing those papers tomorrow, Bryant,  I hope to kiss you then.” Hizashi spoke and I felt my face heat up and I laid on my bed excited. “Hey, I wanted to kiss her first.” Shouta protested. “Alright, you can get the first kiss, but don’t make it too long so I can have my turn, alright?” Hizashi spoke and Shouta groaned. “Tell us more about yourself.” Shouta spoke, trying to change the subject.

“Yeah, I have a question though, why are you staying with Taishiro if the commute is so far? Why not get a place up here or move into some Admin dormitory closer to the school?” He asked.

“I’m staying at Taishiro’s place because he helped me when I was dropped into this world. He’s letting me stay here until either I can get my own place or I’m mated to someone and I move in with them. Other than that, I don’t know what to tell you.” I explained. “Why don’t you start by telling us what it was like for you as a kid.” Hizashi suggested. I froze up, remembering what my father did to me and my family, especially my mom and my sisters. “Um… It wasn’t the best. My dad is a villain and my mom was killed by someone associated with him when I was little.” I spoke slowly and took some deep breaths.

“Its alright. You don’t have to talk about it if you don��t want to. Have you ever wanted to bond with someone before?” Hizashi asked. “I don’t know. I want to bond with someone new but I’m still traumatized by my past. I am a bit surprised that you two are even still interested in me. Usually, when I told someone that was a hero like you two that I was a kid of a villain, was usually thing that made them cut ties with me and never spoke to me again.” I told them, taking a deep breath and speaking up again. “Yes, I have wanted to bond before. I have been bonded and mated before… only in other universes though. Never have I ever been bonded and mated here in this universe. I told them and they listened. Hizashi bit on his lip before he spoke again.

“Don’t worry. When you decide that you’re ready, then we will be there and we will do our best to be gentle, but I doubt you’ve ever had or been with anything like Shouta and I.” He spoke and I heard Shouta chuckled next to him. “No, I haven’t had two men with creature genes before. I’ve never been with a Naga before either. But I’m curious, what kind of creature gene does Shouta have?” I asked. “He doesn’t like to talk about it.” Hizashi spoke. “I might tell you eventually, but for now, just tell us more about yourself, whatever you want.” Shouta told me.

“I don’t know what I would tell you about myself.” I said and thought for a moment before speaking again. “I have three sisters, a dragon creature gene that you already know of, and my favorite food is mac and cheese.” I spoke.

“I remember seeing your dragon gene back when we first met you, but I’m curious if there’s anything else we should know about before we mate with you.” Shouta mentioned. The tone in his voice implied that he had a smirk on his face like the one he had when he was running his students through the drills earlier in the day even though I couldn’t see his face. 

“I’ve been told that my dragon gene can help other species… I guess that’s another reason why I was running from the previous universe because the people there were trying to exploit it. But I came here, hoping to help some other people that I’d choose to help them have a child.” I told them as I looked over their files to learn more information about them. “Is that so? Then really make sure to bring those papers tomorrow.” Hizashi added with excitement in his voice before Shouta spoke. “You know our dynamics but you haven’t told us what your dynamic is. May we ask what it is?” He asked, just as excited as his mate was about this situation.

“I am a Luna.” I breathed out as I felt myself growing more nervous and more excited all at the same time as I heard the excitement in their voices.  I got up off my bed and pulled the papers from the printer attached to my tablet and putting them into my backpack and placing them by the door before going to the bed and listening to them talk. “Hey, please don’t be nervous, Bryant. We aren’t going to hurt you.” Hizashi spoke softly, noticing that I went quiet after talking. I calmed down a bit as there was something comforting about the tone of his voice that helped me to relax and get under my covers.

“Hizashi is right, there’s no need to be nervous with us.” I heard Shouta speak in a gentle tone. “I don’t know that… I don’t know… I’m sorry.” I spoke quietly, my mind swirling with thoughts of how unprofessional I was being with my characters but the train of thought was quickly interrupted by Hizashi’s voice breaking through my thoughts. The hero was calm and he spoke in the same gentle tone as his mate. “We aren’t going to hurt you. This is all up to you on how fast or how slow we take this. We aren’t going to do anything that you’re not comfortable with or pressure you into doing something that makes you uncomfortable, okay? I wish I was there to hold your hands and look you in the eyes while I said this.” He told me. I began to take deep breaths to calm my racing heart.

“I’m a little excited about this myself. Its all new to me and that makes me nervous too. There is a way that my dragon gene works and it’s a bit odd. Its probably too weird for some… possibly the two of you.” I spoke and laid against the headboard of my bed.

“Tell us about it, please.” They said eagerly in unison. I giggled at the fact that they spoke together at the same time. I took another deep breath before speaking.

“Well, I bloat up with an aphrodisiac made from a gland just under my uterus and is stimulated during both my heat and my rut. I also build up stamina each month by eating a lot of food… like a lot of food. More that you saw me eat at lunch. It’s the way my body prepares each month for either my heat or rut. I also lay eggs instead of live birth. So, my body also prepares to either hold a clutch of eggs or give a clutch of eggs to another.” I spoke and began to feel a pit grow in the bottom of my stomach, expecting them to reject me and move on. I was surprised when I heard Hizashi let out a chuckle. “Darling, that isn’t weird at all. I do the same thing. If you didn’t notice that at least once a month, I bring extra food to the station, right? I am a Naga as I told you earlier and I too produce a clutch of eggs either for myself or give to another. I’d love to give you my clutch someday, my dear.” He spoke as Shouta played with the ends of his mate’s hair.

“He’s right. It’s a bit uncomfortable when he’s in rut and I have to take his clutch.” I heard Shouta say. I felt myself blush super hard. “Only when the time is right. I’m nowhere near ready to accept a clutch… I need to get a bit bigger. But I hope that someday I’ll be able to help the two of you.” I spoke.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to help us someday, but for now, you sound a bit sleepy. We should let you sleep.” I heard Hizashi tell me when Shouta chuckled. “We will see you tomorrow, okay? I hope you sleep well.” He told me. I nodded even though they couldn’t see me and I hesitated before speaking again. “Can the two of you help me with food? I know I can get some here at Taishiro’s place, but I’m not allowed much money for other food at lunch.” I spoke as I was getting ready to hang up. “Absolutely, we can help you with food.” Hizashi spoke before Shouta chimed in.

“Of course we will help you.” He said and I smiled.

“Thank you. I hope that the two of you have a good night and I’ll see you in the morning.” I spoke and hung up. I let out a squeal of delight before getting ready for bed. Hizashi looked to Shouta. “I think she’s perfect too.” He spoke as he slid out of his nest and slithered to the door and looked back to his mate.“I’m going to get my soba, its probably cold now. Then do you want to help me prep food for tomorrow’s lunch? I want to surprise her with a lot of food.” He suggested. Shouta perked up and nodded as he slurped up his noodles and followed his mate out of the room.