#i have been working on one thing for hours and it feels like i have made no progress

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

The Matchmaker Assassin

Bob Reynolds x reader

Summary: When Bob realizes how lonely he really is Yelena is quick to pick up on it and sets him up quickly with a friend...he won't embarrass himself...right?

Bob wasn’t sure when the loneliness had crept in. Maybe it had always been there -- buried under guilt and power and the slow, aching process of putting himself back together. For years, he’d been too busy surviving to feel much of anything, and now that he was clean in all body, mind, and soul he actually had time to feel it.

And god, it hurt sometimes.

It hurt to come home to an empty apartment. To eat dinner standing by the sink. To wake up in the middle of the night and have no one beside him but the extra blanket he had on his bed.

He’d tried to ignore it. Tried to pour himself into training, into books and rebuilding and fixing what had been broken. But loneliness was a quiet, persistent thing. It lingered in the corners. It spoke in silence.

He even thought about dating apps once. Spent twenty minutes staring at the “bio” section before deleting it entirely. What the hell was he supposed to say? Hi, I used to be an addict then I became a walking bomb basically and now I fold my laundry instead of it just sitting in the basket for weeks and go to therapy. Wanna grab a coffee? He didn’t think that would really work out very well. 

He didn’t want to explain himself to strangers. He wasn’t sure if he was built for small talk anymore.

And of course, Yelena noticed.

“You’re moping,” she said one afternoon, chewing a piece of his leftover pizza without asking. “You get all squinty and broody when you’re touch-starved. It’s pathetic.”

Bob blinked over the rim of his coffee mug. “What the hell kind of diagnosis is that?”

“A correct one,” she replied flatly. “You named your houseplant Maxwell, Bob. I caught you talking to your microwave Tuesday.”

He cringed remembering that conversation, the worse part was that it was a good conversation.“…Okay. I might be a little lonely.”

She grinned like a shark. “Good. I’m setting you up.”

“What? No. No, no. Yelena, I can’t—”

“She’s a friend. A good one too. You’ll like her. You’re going. Tomorrow. Wear a shirt that doesn’t scream ‘man who talks to plants and kitchen appliances.' Do not embarrass me Roberts.”

Bob didn't know anything about you but he was terrified.

You didn’t know much about Bob Reynolds before that night. Yelena told you he was sweet – with “sad golden retriever eyes and the posture of an anxious oak tree.” You thought she was exaggerating. She really wasn’t.

You walked into the little bookstore café near their complex, not expecting much. A favor to a friend is what you expected that’s all. But then you saw him sitting near the back: tall, broad, fidgeting with a napkin like it had personally insulted him. He stood when you approached--actually stood--and smiled like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

And god, that smile.

“I’m Bob,” he said, offering a hand.

“Yeah,” you said, shaking it. “Yelena told me. She also said you cry during dog movies.”

His ears turned red. “Well I mean only the good ones.”

You teased him the entire first hour, but he gave as good as he could-- in a quiet, dry, completely endearing sort of way. He was nervous, sure, but also funny. Surprisingly sharp. He told stories about accidentally vaporizing vending machines he told you how he once won a free T-shirt by correcting a grammar error on a billboard. You laughed so hard you snorted once -- and he beamed like he’d won the lottery.

The real click happened when he walked you home. Neither of you said much until your porch. You turned to him and asked, “Wanna hold my hand or are you gonna keep pretending you’re not dying to?” He huffed a breath of laughter. “You always that direct?” You shrugged. “You always that obvious?” He smiled. “Only with you, apparently.”

__–__–__–__–__–

Later that night, Bob lay in bed staring at the ceiling, fingers still tingling from where they’d brushed yours.

He grabbed his phone and texted Yelena:

Bob: I think I really like her.

She responded in three seconds flat:

Yelena: I know I do have eyes Bobert you should know by now I am genius. You truly should be worshipping me at this point of our friendship.

Bob just smiled. Because maybe -- after everything -- he could have this. Maybe you were exactly what he hadn’t known he was waiting for.  And maybe Yelena Belova was terrifyingly good at matchmaking.

--_--_--_--_

Your second date was set for the weekend. Bob promised he’d plan everything.

He showed up ten minutes early. Not because he was nervous he absolutely was, nor because he’d changed his shirt twice he absolutely had, but because this time, he wanted to get it right. You weren’t casual. You weren’t forgettable. You were sitting-in-the-back-of-his-mind kind of unforgettable. When you arrived, with your gentle smile and bright eyes, he forgot how to breathe for a second.

“Did you plan all this?” you asked, nodding at the little sidewalk café table already laid out with two drinks and what looked like one of everything from the dessert case.

“I may have panicked and ordered like everything,” he admitted cringing while he rubbed the back of his neck. You laughed. “That’s okay. I like a man with a default in chaotic dessert strategies.”

You spent hours talking. Bob nearly cried laughing at one of your stories. You confessed you liked to eavesdrop in public and make up fake love stories for strangers. He told you he thought he’d never be normal enough to date again -- and you just held his hand across the table, steady and sure.

He walked you home again. This time, your hands brushed on purpose.

“You really are sweet,” you said, voice softer now. “Yelena wasn’t lying.”

“She also said I’d trip over myself, which I have so far managed not to—” Bob tripped on a cracked part of the sidewalk.

You caught his arm. “You were saying?”

He groaned slightly embarrassed, “I’m two for two.”

At your door, the pause came. That charged stillness where neither of you moved — both of you waiting.

“So…” you said, grinning. “Do I get a goodnight hug, or is this the part where you awkwardly salute me and run off?”

“I was leaning toward a dramatic bow,” he offered.

“Even though that sounds amazing to see I think I’ll take a hug.”

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you gently; carefully, like you were something precious. You leaned in and didn’t let go until he finally pulled back, eyes flicking to your lips.

Bob hesitated.

Then, with more courage than coordination, he leaned in… and completely misjudged the angle.

Your noses bumped. Your teeth nearly clicked.

“Ow—shit, sorry,” he blurted. You were laughing. “Wow. We are so smooth.”

“Worst kiss attempt in history?”

“Top three. But you’re still cute.” You grabbed the front of his jacket. “Let’s try again. But this time…you tilt left yeah?”

The kiss was better the second time. Still a little too eager, still smiling into each other’s mouths, but warm and real and just… right. And for the first time in years, Bob felt hope in his chest instead of hollowness.

_–_–_–_–_–_

He showed up at complex the next morning looking like he’d been hit by a truck full of sunshine and bad poetry.

Yelena barely glanced up from her coffee. “You kissed her.”

Bob blinked. “How’d you know?!”

“You look like you cried during a Pixar movie and then got laid.”

“Okay look! Everyone cried when we watched Coco…” Yelena raised her eyebrow making Bob sigh and nod, “Yes. I kissed her.”

“And?” she asked, sipping dramatically.

“It was so good,” Bob said, practically glowing. “We bumped noses at first, but then she laughed and actually kissed me and--Yelena, I swear I could feel the planet tilt. She made me feel like I wasn’t some walking disaster. Like I was just… me.”

Yelena rolled her eyes hearing his dreamy sigh. “Disgusting. You’re so in love.”

“I’m not in love!” he insisted. “I mean--I just met her that'd be so soon like scary soon ya know and I don't want to scare her off...but also… maybe?”

She stared him down. “If you mess this up, I will break both your knees.”

“Understandable.”

Then she softened. Just a flicker. “I’m happy for you. Really. You deserve this.”

Bob blinked before getting a teasing smirk on his face. “Wait--was that… are you being nice to me?”

“Shut up,” she snapped, throwing a pen at him. “Go text your little girlfriend before you start writing her poetry in your mission logs.”

He didn’t even deny it. Just grinned and pulled out his phone.

Bob: Last night was perfect. Wanna get dinner tonight?

You: You bumped your nose into mine and still managed to be cute. You’re dangerous, Reynolds.

He melted. Yelena groaned. “God help me. He’s smitten.” And he was.

Because maybe the world was still a mess. Maybe there were still bad days and echoes of old chaos. But now, when he got home, his phone lit up with a text from you. And that quiet ache in his chest?

It didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) If you like my work please let me know! Reblogging, commenting and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Request are open <3

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[distuff]

Not sure if you’re still taking requests if not that’s totally fine and understandable.

I was wondering if we could get headcanons on what cuddling and or napping with the Saja Boys is like?

That all the time you need, no rush! Thank you!

Answer: I know that you've asked wAAy before I had a proper system, lol, but AYE! I do ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ And oh...my...KAMI - OF COURSE YA CAN!! When I saw this idea I was like "Oh boi that's perfect!". I hope you'll enjoy yourself then~

📍Requests: Please check HERE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Demon Boys' And Snuggles

Featuring: Jinu Saja, Abs Saja, Romance Saja, Mystery Saja, Baby Saja Reader: Gender neutral

Jinu Saja

🐦‍⬛ Cuddling? Jinu had almost forgotten such a concept even existed. Not because it was rare - if not outright unheard of - for demons to indulge in it, but simply because he’d never had the time to consider it in the first place.

🐦‍⬛ Between keeping the guys in check so they didn’t “accidentally” expose what they were - coughRomancecough - and having to constantly churn out songs capable of swaying both humans and Hunter/X fans alike, Jinu didn’t exactly stop to daydream about cuddling.

🐦‍⬛ He wasn’t much for naps, either. He didn’t need sleep. And though he did enjoy the attention you gave him when you thought he was off in dreamland, pretending to sleep took more effort than it was worth most days.

🐦‍⬛ The bed in his room? It only saw use when you were around for him to keep up appearances. Occasionally, one of the guys would flop down on their own to kill time. But not him. Jinu had no trouble finding other ways to pass the hours when you weren’t there - or when everything else was already taken care of.

Like nothing. There was nothing left for Jinu to do now that everything was in place. The plan had been set, the threads laid out, and now all they could do was wait for one of the HUNTER/X to knock over the first domino. After that, it would all be about keeping up the momentum, following the ripple. And so, Jinu lay slouched on the couch, head tilted back until he was staring blankly at the white ceiling. The lights were dimmed so he wouldn’t also go blind from the glare, feeling as his ears were already ringing. The others were too absorbed in their latest addition to the ever-growing collection of human “stuff” to notice, anyway. That, or they’d gone already deaf and were just rolling with it. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his forehead, sighing. How did it come to this? It all started when Abby had accidentally purchased what was apparently called a “gaming console.” According to the description, it could transform their television - previously used to watch humans act in poorly-written dramas or survive in the wild while filming animals - into a new kind of screen that could interact with them through something called a “game.” All this because Abby was trying to figure out how the smaller TV with the attached keyboard - something labelled a laptop - worked. Which, frankly, was ridiculous, because Jinu had tried placing it on his lap and the damn thing wouldn’t stop shifting around when he trying pressing buttons on it. Another one of those misleading marketing names, he supposed. Several frustrating hours passed as they tried to get the TV and gaming setup to get to know one another so they could fuse. They failed. Miserably. When Mystery offered very helpfully - to “look into it,” Jinu immediately decided it was time to call you instead. If Mystery got his hands on it, there’d be no TV, no console, no game - just spare parts that would be useless to them, and Mystery demanding to have a new Tv. With your help, and a heavy dose of guilt-tripping - you somehow believed they’d simply missed out on childhood because of strict parents and intense trainee schedule - the setup was finally functioning. Technically, they weren’t lying. Syncing their movements, perfecting transformations, surviving Gwi-ma’s hellish "parenting"... none of that exactly left room for game nights. Now, Abby, you, Baby, and Romance were completely zeroed in on some high-speed racing game, taking turns battling each other with the two “controllers” as you’d called them. Whoever lost handed theirs off, and the cycle continued with far more competitiveness than necessary. Jinu sighed and turned his head slightly, eyes settling on Mystery. The older demon sat rigid, unmoving, but his aura practically buzzed with the need to get up and start poking at everything. Jinu could feel it - the deep, gnawing urge in Mystery to understand how the whole setup worked. Separately, together, inside-out. And no doubt, destroy it in the process. Which was precisely why Jinu had been stationed there. To make sure he didn’t.

Although Jinu’s aura was still weaker than Mystery’s, his senior openly respected him now that they were in the human world. Jinu was the one with a deeper knowledge of human culture, allowing him to be on equal grounds with his brother in rank. He winced slightly, head leaning back as if trying to physically escape the dull, buzzing ache pressing behind his eyes. That was when he tensed - he felt someone settle beside him, close enough to disturb his aura’s edge. Jinu didn’t expect physical contact from the others unless they were in front of “fans” and playing a part. Which meant... Of course, it was you. You, who didn’t adhere to the strict demon sense of hierarchy as a human. Who simply eased in beside him with a content look on your face and nuzzled into his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your arm slipped around his - still crossed tightly over his chest. That can’t be comfortable, he thought absentmindedly. His skin prickled where your body pressed against his. Your soul, once bright blue, had settled into a muted shade of violet. Uncertain. Caught between two allegiances, yet attached enough now that Jinu could touch you without triggering the painful burn from the Huntress's protection. Still, this close… your soul’s quiet hum was undeniable. There was no harm in indulging a little, he decided. If you were comfortable around him, if your soul leaned closer to crimson - even briefly - then maybe… Jinu relaxed his arms, unfolding them slowly before wrapping one around your shoulders. When your grip softened in response, he gently guided you against his chest, holding you there securely. This felt… like something. It wasn’t bad. His body did welcome the way your shy energy tried tangling with his own dulled aura, where for a second, a flare of crimson sharpened your wave. Then, it faded back into your soft violet. And yet, the phantom feeling of his soul stirred in response. He couldn’t quite decide if this was about you growing more attached to him, or if he was the one selfishly clinging to the feeling. The feeling of being seen, of having something warm press against the hollow flame inside him that never quite managed to consume enough to be satisfied. You startled him back to the moment with a soft chuckle, burying your grin into his chest. A faint smile crept onto his lips, tugged down by the remnants of his earlier thoughts. He leaned down, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as he spoke, voice low and teasing, “And what are you laughing at down there?” He felt a bit amused as he watched you angle your face up, sly smile playing across your lips. It softened as your hand reached up, gently massaging the wrinkle between his brows - one he hadn’t even noticed was there. “How you can’t stop being a workaholic. Even when you do have a day off,” you said, matching his low tone like it was a secret just for the two of you. Ironic, really - if the others hadn’t been so preoccupied, they’d have heard every word. Some of them would’ve shamelessly joined in just to tease him further. Jinu felt the contentment in your line, but he also sensed hesitation. A mild concern threading through your wavelength. He sighed quietly, then reached for your wrist, gently drawing your hand away from his forehead. He placed your palm against his mouth, letting his lips press to it softly before giving you a look - affectionate, and just a little playful.

You stared back, cheeks flushed. Jinu’s smirk deepened ever so slightly as he opened his mouth to speak- Only for your bubble of peace to be shattered. “Mystery, fuck off!” came Baby’s sharp voice. Closely followed by Romance’s more melodic, panicked lilt, “Oh my… TV-ya doesn’t seem to be feeling all that well…” Jinu’s lips pressed together, his expression flat as he slowly turned his head. Yeah. Mystery was gone. His eyes snapped to the front of the room where the others were gathered - and where the chaos was now in full swing. Your expression mirrored his, both of you paling at the sight. Mystery had begun dismantling the front layer of the television. Smoke drifted out from the cracked screen, sparks fizzing around Abby, who was clutching the console like a wounded animal, completely ignoring the dangerously tangled cables. Baby was trying to stop Mystery from literally peeling the screen off. Romance stood behind them, hands fluttering uselessly while trying to shield himself from the inevitable fallout. And then - right on cue - the blaring fire alarms kicked in. Sprinklers activated overhead, water pouring down. A robotic female voice rang out above them, cheerfully announcing that the staff had been alerted and their manager contacted. Oh, for the love of - ! Jinu acted instantly, pushing you down as he moved to shield you with his body - not from the water, but from the visual chaos unfolding around you. Parts of the others’ demonic features had already begun to slip through, distorted by the water washing off their glamours. They scrambled to cover themselves - hoods, pillows, whatever was nearby. He glanced over his shoulder. They looked to him. Jinu gave a sharp nod: go. He watched as they nodded back and quickly made their way to their respective rooms. Jinu kept a close eye on them- Then his brow furrowed. Abby was holding the console over his head like an umbrella with the thing now smoking. Jinu shot him a look. Abby blinked back, utterly unbothered, before continuing towards his room like he wasn’t carrying a fire hazard over his head. He sighed, pressing his face briefly into your back. The absurdity of it all settling in like a wet blanket. Your laughter rang out a second later - unrestrained, bright, and unbothered by the alarm still screeching above before it slowly turned off. J inu smiled faintly. At least you seem to be enjoying yourself. Now all he had to do was dry off, hide the emerging demon traits, and deal with the disaster before the staff arrived. And maybe fish his phone out of his room - where it was no doubt vibrating violently with the manager’s number lighting up the screen.

<><><>

Abs Saja

💪 Abby hadn’t slept once since arriving in the human world. He didn’t see the point - why waste time lying still when he could be out exploring everything this strange new world had to offer?

💪 He didn’t need sleep, so he simply didn’t bother. Besides, it took a considerable amount of energy for a demon to truly fall asleep - energy Abby had no intention of wasting just to lie there doing nothing, unlike Mystery and Romance.

💪 That was, until he met you. Suddenly, napping became a weapon - something he learned to wield just as skillfully as his demonic abilities.

💪 Hands-on experience, diving straight in. Quite literally.

Abby didn’t remember - even if you’d told him - why exactly you couldn’t stay in his shared apartment for more than two hours today. Mostly because Abby didn’t care. Why should he care about something that was only a possibility, not a certainty? So, while the two of you were out on the balcony, chatting about how he and the others had visited a nearby park two days ago - dragged there by Romance, who wouldn’t shut up about the wild deer you could feed, the colourful trees, and the “aesthetic vibes” - Abby had stared blankly at his senior, already prepared to vote no. He’d hoped someone else would be the deciding vote, but no such luck. All four had turned to him and said, “Just pick what you want already!” And when Abby was told to choose what he wanted, well - there was no reason not to listen. Unfortunately, that was right when Romance draped himself over Abby, patting his chest and purring something about newly installed, “hidden” exercise equipment deep in the park. Baby and Mystery, who had both voted no, immediately paled. Too bad. Abby’s eyes lit up. He voted yes before Romance could even finish his sentence, utterly ignoring the smug look Romance threw at the other two demons. Baby groaned dramatically, and Mystery’s demonic aura pulsed with visible irritation, though thankfully still suppressed. Abby had always wondered why his senior didn’t use that aura to control them into staying… or at least so he could stay behind. Oh well. The trip went great - as far as Abby was concerned. From what he heard later from Jinu, however, Romance had almost gotten them banned after picking a bunch of endangered flowers. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been for the fact that Baby tried feeding those same flowers to the deer. Which, apparently, were poisonous to the innocent creatures. It had taken Jinu promising through a demonic oath that Mystery never had to attend one of these outings again unless it was for a mission. Only then did the older demon calm the situation by using the honmoon waves of nearby bystanders and the guards to warp the memory into some cute little accident. Why couldn’t they just say they were Saja? Was his question later. Well, Abby had only gotten flat looks when he asked that, so… he supposed it was obvious. Still, for him at least? Totally worth the trip. He was just about to tell you what Jinu did as punishment for Baby and Romance when something started blaring in the background. You were quick to reach for it, just as Abby winced at the volume, his ears ringing. “Ah! Apologies, Abby! It’s time for me to go,” you said sheepishly, already stepping forward. “But we’ll finish this conversation - I can only imagine what Jinu did to them. They still looked half-dead when I arrived.” You rose up on your tiptoes and reached for him to kiss his cheek. Without hesitation, Abby leaned down, tilting his head slightly so you could reach with ease.

As you leaned away - no doubt about to offer another unnecessary goodbye - Abby took full advantage of your proximity. With a bored expression, he effortlessly hoisted you over his broad shoulder. You yelped, completely caught off guard. "Abs!" you scolded, smacking his back as he started walking off. "Put me down this instant! I'm not joking, Abby, I really need to go! It’s-" You launched into an explanation, but Abby only half-listened, nodding absently while his grip tightened around your waist - just enough to keep you from slipping and cracking your neck in your very ineffective escape attempt. As he strolled through the living room toward the stairs of their large apartment, Baby paused mid-suck on his lollipop. He raised a brow at the scene, then sighed and turned back toward the notebook in Jinu's lap. Jinu, for his part, looked completely scandalised - mouth agape, pen frozen mid-air like it might drop from his hand at any second. Baby lazily took the pen from him and jotted something down himself. Probably working on a new song, Abby mused absentmindedly, offering a cheeky salute to his 'leader' as he ascended the stairs - your squirming slowing into what looked suspiciously like resignation. Smart human. Abby beamed, his steps noticeably lighter. But he was a smarter demon. You could play nice all you wanted, pretend you were just going along with it - but your soul betrayed you. That beautifully loud crimson wave of yours was misbehaving, easily tearing itself from the honmoon barrier and swishing with mischief. No longer attached to the huntresses but to them - him. Which was why, when Abby finally dropped you onto the bed in his room, he was ready. Predictably, you tried to bolt. Equally predictably, Abby caught you with one steady arm, tugging you flush against his chest as he dropped down onto the plush mattress. He all but covered you with his body like a bear claiming something it saw as precious. Having done this many times now, Abby had learned to ease up some of his weight, allowing just enough room for you to breathe. Not like the first time, when you'd had to pinch him to let him know he was accidentally suffocating you. ...Oops? Now comfortably adjusted, Abby nuzzled into the crook of your neck with a contented smile. His arms coiled tightly around your form as he absorbed the comforting heat of your mixed emotions - your annoyance sparking lightly at the edges, but underneath it, a familiar jolt of happiness pulsed steadily from your soul. He took it all in greedily. The void inside him - vast, hollow, and starving - drank it down without hesitation. And just as Abby had grown used to this routine, so had you. Your resistance faded with a long, deep sigh, and your body softened against his. You knew from experience that the only way he’d move was if one of the others intervened, if they felt gracious enough hearing your pleas - or if you were actually dying of thirst, hunger, or some other critical need. As Abby began to relax, he tried to push aside Gwi-ma’s ever-present whispering in the back of his head, letting your presence drown it out. Your wave's warmth helped quiet his mind, letting his body slip into that strange drowsiness demons could settle on. Not real sleep. More of a dormant, hyper-aware resting state that helped preserve power. Abby had too much energy most of the time, but he’d learned to dim it by allowing your fragile human soul-thread to wrap around his aura like silk. He could devour it so easily if he just- Not yet, he thought with a faint smile, breath slowing. And then your fingers began to play with his hair lazily, half-heartedly annoyed. Your wave swatted at his aura in a teasing manner, and though there was a low grumble of resistance in its flick, the underlying emotion was unmistakable. You were content. And so was he.

<><><>

Romance Saja

🌹 You want to cuddle with him? Ahahahahaha - ! That rich, disbelieving laugh rang out in his mind before abruptly cutting off. Wait... you're not joking?

🌹 Gwi-ma, no. If you thought Romance was the cuddly type - think again. He refuses to touch you, or for the record, let you touch him, especially if there's even a chance of sweat being exchanged.

🌹 In the summer? Forget it. You'd sooner shake hands with a ghost than get him hold your hand.

🌹 Does he let you nap with him? Gwi-ma shield him - absolutely not. What do you think he is, your own personal, fancy, free sweat pillow?

🌹 Romance might make you look like the prettiest thing walking. He’ll dote on you with makeup, dress you up in outfits that steal the spotlight, and make you forget how to breathe with just his lips...

🌹 But cuddle? Nap with you?

🌹 No. Just - no.

It could’ve been a peaceful day. Could have been. Romance had planned to spend it doing anything other than pretending to care about the unpolished ducklings he was obliged - by Jinu - to call “fans.” He’d looked forward to resting, basking in his well-earned magnificence, and avoiding being scolded yet again by people who knew how to use the magical box called a phone. Apparently, posting whatever he felt, replying to those notes in cryptic nonsense and gibberish - despite all the hearts he received for those - was still not the right approach. Who knew? So, when Jinu announced they had a day off, Romance had beamed with unfiltered joy while the others simply sighed, relieved to finally drop their human facades. Naturally, Romance wasted no time. The moment the words “day off” had left Jinu’s lips, he had declared he would call you over for a well-earned spa day, before standing up dramatically. The chorus of groans and complaints from the others didn’t faze him in the slightest. He felt the shift in their demonic auras the moment he stood - begrudging as it was, they all slipped back into their human forms as he was already dialing your number. Yes, today had promise. He had a vision. A plan. A lovely bonding day with you. So you really couldn’t blame him for feeling thoroughly exasperated when it turned into... this. “Romance. You can’t be serious right now.” You stood over him, arms crossed, brow furrowed, disbelief practically dripping from your voice. Romance, sitting on the edge of the bed, sighed through his nose. For what had to be the thousandth time today, he reminded himself: breathe. Looking up at you with something caught between confusion and irritation, he tried to keep his voice level. “As I said before, darling... I do not wish to cuddle with you simply because—” “—I'm sweaty to you.” You finished flatly, and rather sharply. Your tone made him sigh again, deeper this time. “No, darling. Unfortunately, both you and I produce sweat. And I find the idea of our bodily fluids mixing…” He shuddered for emphasis. “Repulsive.” “Oh. Because that makes so much sense,” you muttered sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a hollow laugh. You shifted your weight, clearly pouting now, turning your gaze away from him. Romance suppressed yet another sigh. He just wanted to do his and your hair. Why did it have to turn into this emotional wrestling match? Honestly, he couldn’t even remember how the conversation started. One moment you were picking a nail polish colour, and the next you were - trying to - climb into his lap.

He, of course, gracefully dodged. Which brings you to the unforeseen presence. Sigh. “Love, please. Can we just set this aside and focus on more important matters?” he tried, hopeful. You stared him down with such heat it scorched whatever flicker of hope he had left. “No? Really? This is ridiculous, Romance. I get it in the summer, alright? But it’s autumn. The windows are closed. The heater’s off. Indoors! Can you even feel yourself sweat?” Romance opened his mouth to answer, but you threw a hand up, eyes narrowed. “That was rhetorical.” He groaned, tossing his head back, shoulders sagging dramatically. “Dear~, what do you want me to do about it? I’ve told you, I find it revolting. Just because you feel like cuddling doesn’t make it my problem now, does it?” Wrong thing to say. Your glare could have flayed a lesser demon. Romance felt his own irritation boil over. He rose smoothly, towering over you, and threw his hands into the air. “What exactly do you want me to do? Wrap us in sleeping bags? Dress us in-” He froze mid-sentence. His eyes widened, a familiar demonic flame flickering to life above his head. That perfect spark of inspiration. You blinked at his sudden stop, clearly uncertain, your brows inching up. “Romance?” you said slowly. His mouth curled into a grin - a wide, wicked thing full of dangerous creativity. “You’re a genius,” he whispered. You glanced away, expression uncertain. “Thanks?” He waved your words off like speck of dust. “Oh, no no no, Love. Not you. I’m the genius here.” He pinched your cheek lightly with a teasing smirk. “You’re just stubborn and refuse to take no for an answer~.” Before you could swat his hand away, he’d already turned on his heel and crossed the room, flinging open his closet with a flourish. With a gleam in his eye, he strode inside like a "man" on a mission.

His genius plan had ended with the two of you wearing body-hugging turtlenecks - matching, of course. And yes, he had willingly parted with one of his own so you could wear it too. It's yours now, you're welcome. Though a little baggy on you, he decided it looked fashionably oversized. Stylish, really. And since his opinion was the only one that mattered, the verdict was final. Now, the two of you sat side by side on the edge of the bed - Romance beaming, you looking thoroughly unimpressed, arms crossed. Still, you weren’t glaring anymore, and to him that was undeniable progress. A step towards the peaceful, luxurious day he had envisioned. Ignoring the very pointed side-eye you gave him, Romance draped his clothed arm over your equally clothed shoulders, tugging you closer until your head rested in the crook of his neck - well, the covered crook of his neck. He kept smiling, even though he could faintly feel the shudder in your wave - irritated, unimpressed, maybe even a little amused. Still, a win was a win, and Romance would take it. That said, he much preferred when your honmoon wave wasn’t so... stiff. But using his demonic aura to soothe it would only aggravate you further. And unfortunately, you were still very much loyal to the huntresses so touching it would just burn him. That left him with some... human emotional regulation, he guessed. Which he was not the greatest with. Especially not when it came in the form of “I want comfort from you, but also want to fight you.” So, drawing on his very limited inspiration, he copied something he’d once seen in one of those absurd dramas Mystery seemed to be obsessed with lately. Still smiling, cheek barely brushing the top of your head, Romance raised a hand and - robotically, awkwardly - began patting you. Straightforward. Repetitive. Like someone trying to calm a growling cat. His eyes remained fixed ahead, blank and unmoving as he continued the awkward patting. But then - you shifted, your chin moving so you could peer up at him. He felt your line sharpening in subtle judgment, then wavering in confused hesitation before softening entirely. You snorted, and amusement rippled through your bright blue wave, smoothing it into something far more pleasant. Romance nearly sighed in relief as your wave mellowed into something teasing, easing the air in the room. But then- You moved. Before he could blink, your arms wrapped around his waist. He only had a split second to glance down, confusion flitting across his face- -and then you yanked. Or tried to. You may have forgotten for a moment that Romance was a demon with otherworldly strength. Your sudden tug only succeeded in dragging yourself down, latching onto him like a determined koala. Now you were curled around his side on the bed, arms locked around his waist, face hidden somewhere in his back. Romance sat there, one hand still awkwardly raised in the air, blinking down at your tangled limbs with a look of mild amusement. Your wave spoke of shy contentment now, but the deep blush dusting your ears was louder than any line in the honmoon barrier could ever be. “Don’t.. Say.. Anything. Just lie down,” came your muffled demand. Romance blinked. Then his smile returned. Your arms squeezed tighter in warning. Gracefully, he lowered himself beside you, pausing just long enough for you to make room before lying down fully. You adjusted with a soft shuffle, repositioning so you could still cling to him while the two of you properly shared the mattress. Now lying face to face, your gaze hovered somewhere near his chin, very pointedly not meeting his eyes. He didn’t mind. He reached out, fingers brushing your cheek, then gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips deliberately tickled the shell of it. “So demanding~” he teased with a purr. Your foot shot out and kicked his ankle. He yelped.

<><><>

Mystery Saja

🐶 If you want a cuddle or a nap buddy, Mystery is your demon.

🐶 He’ll quite happily lie still and do absolutely nothing while you get your much-needed human rest - and in return, he gets a few blissful hours of peace away from the chaos that constantly brews behind his bedroom door. It’s a win-win, really.

🐶 You get the physical comfort you crave, and he gets to exist in rare, undisturbed silence - where everything feels like it’s on standby.

🐶 But truthfully, it wasn’t just the quiet that made Mystery agree so quickly. Maybe, if you weren’t so enamoured by him, you’d have noticed it by now.

🐶 He liked to believe humans were at least somewhat clever. After all, despite the fact their innovations had rotted a good portion of their cognitive processing, they had still created a kind of dark magic - technology - using only the earth’s resources. That, in itself, was impressive. Fascinating, even.

🐶 Needless to say, the second you fell asleep, Mystery made full use of the time.

🐶 He observed you. Meticulously. He studied every strand of hair, noting exactly where each one grew from your scalp and how it could have developed. Your skin - every pore, every faint freckle, every hidden beauty mark, whether visible or shyly tucked out of sight. He traced the structure of your ears, curious about the small bumps and folds. Your jawline. The slope of your nose. Your eyelashes. The delicate shape of your collarbone. Everything.

🐶 Mystery used this time to understand the changes - the slow, intricate evolution of the human body since the era he remembered being one himself.

Mystery noted how human skin had become a bit rougher over the centuries. Though, perhaps that was more to do with how you weren’t treated like you were made of the finest porcelain - unlike how he had once been. He also noticed how the human frame had grown slightly smaller. Not by much, but enough. Your hands were smaller, your fingers shorter. Mystery had been considered slim and short in his era, yet beside you, he felt taller. Broader. Perhaps it’s the lack of external threats, he mused absently, his clawed hand gently tracing a path down the centre of your throat to the top of your chest. It was a path he’d explored countless times, yet it remained full of undiscovered possibilities. His eyes, hidden beneath his fringe, sharpened in focus as your soul stirred beneath the surface - responding to his touch. That once-scorching blue hue had long since melted into a warm, soothing crimson - finally allowing him, and others, to be more physical with you without burning for it. Mystery tilted his head slightly, fringe parting to reveal a glint of glowing gold. His eyes, slitted and bright, widened just a bit. He slowly leaned forward, one hand hovering still above the warm pulse of your soul while the other supported his weight. You lay peacefully beneath him, the soft sound of your snores the only thing cutting through the silence of the room. He exhaled quietly as the soul’s glow reflected faintly on his demonic features that had begun to seep through his glamour. It was… enticing. That heat. The faint sweetness. The savoury tang your soul left on his tongue. Not yet... He reminded himself, jaw tightening faintly. He’d never had the chance to properly examine this particular change when he was hunting. He hadn’t even known it was possible to weaken the honmoon barrier like this. I’ll have to praise Jinu for that. Ask him how he figured it out… the thought trailed off, distracted, as he raised the hovering clawed hand and made a subtle pulling motion - purely to test a theory. His curious gaze tracked the way your soul followed, lifting just slightly, your breath hitching as if it tugged at your lungs. Your chest rose with it, straining like your soul was dragging your very body upwards. He held it for only a second longer before releasing it, opening his palm. Your chest fell along with the soul, dimming back into its dormant state. You were heaving softly now, face scrunching in discomfort - clearly on the verge of waking. Mystery couldn’t allow that. Not yet. With gentler fingers, he shifted his clawed hand a little higher, turning his palm until he felt it - your familiar line. No longer part of the protective barrier. Softer now. More whimsical. Without hesitation, Mystery caught the strand with the tip of his claw and tugged - carefully. The crimson flared again, just for a moment, before he let go and traced the length of it with a fingertip. You shuddered, your body reacting instinctively, then melted back into a deep, undisturbed slumber. Turning slightly, you pressed yourself closer to him.

How fascinating… The thought echoed once more as he let you steal his warmth, his golden gaze watching your form from beneath his fringe. The line of your soul stubbornly kept to his hand, trying to cling like ivy. Mystery ignored it - for now. Instead, he shifted you slightly, careful not to wake you, and rested his clawed hand against your chest once more. The moment he made contact, dark markings began to seep into the grey of his skin, your soul reacting instinctively to him. A sharp grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Thanks to you, Mystery had learned just how vast a demon of his rank could stretch their influence when granted the full devotion of a human soul - one that willingly intertwined itself with demonic energy. Over the years, he’d found that fewer and fewer souls appealed to him. Most had grown dull - bland in flavour, muted in depth. Pollution? Dark magic? Or just the plague of human ignorance, he mused, noting how rare it had become to find a soul still brimming with colour. Wonder. Emotion. But you… You still held onto that brilliance. That raw feeling. Your emotions never diluted - when you cried, when you laughed, when stress took hold or joy overtook you, your soul responded with such intensity it made it harder and harder for Mystery to restrain himself. To not corner you. To not devour what he’d long since claimed as his. He knew his human illusion had fallen. Could feel it in the pressure of his upper tusks, the shadow cast by his fully realised form now looming over your sleeping figure. You remained unaware. Untroubled. Relaxed. Soon… The thought purred through his mind as a low rumble escaped his chest. He leaned down, letting his face nuzzle into your cheek, then traced his nose downward - along the curve of your ear, the slope of your neck. Finally, he let his head rest there, basking in the steady warmth your soul poured into him. His grin deepened. The rumble in his chest swelled into something far more content.

<><><>

Baby Saja

🍼 If you wanted to touch him, you’d have to wait until he initiated it first. Especially when it came to cuddling - which was already rare enough as it was.

🍼 Baby didn’t nap either. It took more mental effort than simply staying awake and staring off into nothing.

🍼 So, any chance of physical attention from Baby was slim. Not impossible, but unlikely - unless it involved him using you as an armrest or a pillow, or tossing himself across your lap just to bother you. Anything soft or genuinely affectionate? That would almost never happen unless he initiated it himself.

🍼 If you ever tried to initiate cuddling or suggest a nap, Baby would just step back and give you a strange look - like you’d eaten something strange.

But there were still times when Gwi-ma’s voice drilled into his skull - a buzzing, crackling noise like fire. Baby had long since recognised it as his King’s laughter, joined by other voices he couldn’t name. They stirred something in him, made his muscles tense and his jaw lock. He'd either want to slam his head against the sharpest surface to ease the pressure or tear into something, preferably something that could bleed. Gwi-ma’s voice, ever persistent, would start asking the usual questions - WHEre aRE thEy? HOw loNg? HoW MAny? = as though Baby had the answers, as if he was supposed to track down one of his seniors when even he had no clue where they’d gone. When he couldn’t respond, or what he said wasn’t enough, the King would push further, flooding Baby’s head with those damn voices that made his teeth clench. He'd asked once - how do you deal with it? Abby had said he just blasts music through the cool human mufflers until his eardrums feel like they’ll burst. Romance claimed sorting through his clothes helped him tune out Gwi-ma. Jinu said Tiger and Magpie did most of the deflecting. And Mystery? Temples, apparently. “They work wonders.”

Baby had tried all of it. Abby’s method left his ears ringing for a full week - but he was proud he could still perform through it. Sorting through his wardrobe only made him stare blankly at shirts he didn’t even remember owning. Tiger and Magpie helped quiet the voices, but not enough. Gwi-ma still got through. And stepping onto temple grounds? He didn’t even make it past the front gate before nausea hit like a sledgehammer. Lightheaded, sick, and disoriented, he stumbled back to the apartment. So why - why did it all work for them but not for him? He’d finally asked Mystery one night, catching him in what felt like a good mood. Baby had wanted to know - do the others hear Gwi-ma the way he does? That loud? That constant? Mystery had stared at him for a long while. Even without seeing his eyes, Baby could tell the elder demon was evaluating him. Then came a simple, “No.” That was it. No explanation, no elaboration. Just no. It left Baby stunned. No? ...No?! Frustrated, voice rising in spite of himself, he’d snapped - tired of the constant headaches, tired of the pressure, the cackling, the voices crawling under his skin every single time. But Mystery only asked one thing. Something simple. Too simple. “What was your contract?” The words had stopped him cold. Asking another demon about their contract was personal. Intrusive. And yet, it struck something deep inside Baby that he hadn’t wanted to dig up. Now, with that same memory dragging itself to the front of his mind, Baby groaned and pushed his head shamelessly into your neck, trying to block everything out. Shut up, shut up... He repeated the words in his head as Gwi-ma’s voice rose, dragging others with it - familiar but faceless, pressing into his temples until he felt feverish and cold all at once. He rolled his tongue along the inside of his mouth, looking for anything grounding, but there was nothing. Just his own breath and the heat of it. Then - your hand. Hesitant, but there. Gentle fingers pushed through his tangled hair. Baby shuddered. Pressed closer. “Yeah...” he exhaled, the word more breath than voice. He needed more. You understood. Your fingers dug a little deeper, massaging his scalp with growing confidence. His body twitched under your warm touch, instinctively recoiling from contact - but he forced himself to stay still. His mind felt quieter with you touching him like this. So he shifted you further down onto the couch, ignoring the tangle of your wave still tightly woven through the honmoon barrier, scorching and embarrassed but quietly pleased. He nuzzled into your neck as your other hand moved to his shoulder, kneading gently. Baby melted under the care, tension leaving him little by little. He focused on the sensation of you. Not the voices. Not the heat behind his eyes. Just your hands, grounding him. He didn’t care if you pushed him away, or snapped his neck, or left him vulnerable. None of that mattered. What mattered was the stillness you brought - how your presence made his thoughts slow, his breathing steady, his body begin to relax. One breath. Then another. For now, this was what mattered.

[dotpointping]

I think we all agree sex with Phainon would just be feral as hell. He is an awful combination of down bad and emotionally repressed. Give him an inch and he’ll go a mile. The moment you let him into your bed, you are NOT leaving until he’s filled you with his spend. But the best worst part is that every time you think he’s finished, he gets himself going again by watching all his cum leak out of your used hole.

“Just one more,” he tells his, ignoring your whines and pulling your hips back, “one more, I promise.”

Phainon is a liar. One more means one more hour. One more means one more day. He has more than enough stamina and if you so much as indicate you want to be fucked stupid… well, who is he to deny your wishes? That is what he lives for, no?

Against the wall, your personal bath, your dresser, even the balcony is not safe. Speaking of which, you’re starting to think Phainon gets off on doing it outside. One of his hands is always gagged around your mouth, hushing you and telling you you’re being too loud and to quiet down, unless you want to be caught. He says all this, all the while his other hand is ruthlessly pressed against your clit, rubbing small firm circles around your sensitive bud, ramming his hips against yours and angling himself against that soft, spongy spot deep inside that he knows makes your head feel light and stars dangle in your eyes.

Phainon is the type to pull strings and use everything in his power to clear his schedule if it means he can spend a whole day just fucking you. Whether or not you’re conscious for that entire session is entirely dependent on how well prepared you are for him. He’ll coo at you during sex, ask if you’re too tired and if you want to rest. It’s so condescending and he laughs when you nod yes, just to keep going like you aren’t about to pass out underneath him.

“Come on, love, I’m almost done… just keep it up, you’re doing so, so well for me…”

Phainon would go until he shoots blanks. You may think you’re safe by then, but you aren’t. He nestles his head around your legs, kissing your sensitive thighs and nipping the skin lightly, coaxing you down from your last high. It’s the first kiss to your overstimulated cunt that you realize what he intends to do. You can push him away all you like, but he intends to feast on you while he still can.

Mydei, on the other hand, I feel you have to coax into bed. You can drop all the hints in the world, trail your hand up and down his chest, tease the hem of his pants, tell him your dirtiest fucking desires for him and he’ll still tell you no (but you can best bet you’re the reason he starts praying to every god in Amphoreus. Cerces, bless him to keep sound of mind and withstand the urges of pouncing you. He is reason, he is reason, he is reason—) The only real effective way to get him to fuck you the first time is by inviting him to your room and then stripping yourself bare. Even then, you STILL have to talk him into it.

Mydei is a gentle lover. He’s aware of his size and stature and how easily he can hurt you. His hands have committed more atrocities than he can count. They have torn the heads of his enemies, crushed bone and flesh, and spilled blood countless times. He doesn’t want to hurt you. Goodness no. He’d never forgive himself if he did.

Hence why you have to sweet talk him, practically beg him have to have his way with you. You have to tell him you won’t be satisfied until you’re fucked within an inch of your life and your guts have been rearranged. Taunting also works. He may be afraid to hurt you, but above all else he can’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else. You are one of a few good things in his life and god forbid he fumbles this one.

“Fine. I guess I’ll just go find that Deliverer—”

There’s nothing more effective than that. Is it cheap? Yes. It is. But, it gets the job done.

In his hands, you’re going to be stretched and bent in ways you never thought possible. Poking a sleep lion is never a good idea, especially when you don’t have the energy to keep up with him. But, you’ve been teasing him for months on end, so it’s only fair he gets his fill of you.

Sex with Mydei can be quite slow, with three fingers stretching you wide and his tongue lapping your cunt. You have to cum at least three times before he even thinks about slipping his cock inside. If you aren’t delirious by then, then you’re absolutely gone when his cock sinks inside. We all know this man is packing, it’s a struggle no matter how well prepped you are. You’re creaming around him just from the stretch alone, and you have a moment of panic where you aren’t sure he’s going to fit. But, ever the attentive lover, he’ll hush your worries away and press soft circles against your clit, massage your breasts, pinch your sensitive nipples, distract you until he finally bottoms out.

“Please, please, please, Mydei…” you can whine, wrap your arms tight around him and pull him close, kiss him sloppy and messy until you’re reaching another high from him simply grinding into you.

He’s hypnotized, hooked on the feeling of you, taste of you, everything about you. He fulfills your every wish of being pummeled deep inside, massaging your walls with every thrust, the head of his cock pressed against the most sensitive spots, with your every breath becoming nothing more than short punched out gasps.

Unfortunately, however, while Phainon is more than eager to fuck his cum inside you, getting Mydei to cum inside is an entirely different matter. He’s so afraid of continuing his lineage in such unstable times, not to mention, he doesn’t want to burden you with his child. But, once you DO convince him that it’s fine, something in his head gets rewired and the idea of ‘gentle’ gets tossed out when he spills inside you for the first time and sees just how excited it makes you. He then has an existential crisis because now he can’t imagine sex any other way and he’s aching to do it again.

Sex with Phainon is easy because he wants to please you and fulfill every dirty dream he’s ever had of you.

Sex with Mydei is a mind game, where you have to ease him in at first, then assure him three-hundred different times that: yes, you want him and yes, you know what you are doing.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 57: Reunited And It Feels So Good

Summary: Settling into your new lives isn't going as smoothly as you had hoped. Luckily Johnny and Simon arrive to save the day.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,000 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, threesome, oral, fingering, squirting, creampie, cum eating, slight choking but not really, crying during sex, dick so good 'mega passes out (only for a moment), Simon's big cock, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, alternate universe, angst, domestic fluff, language

A/N: Happy 4th of July! Celebrate with some smut with British men!! this chapter about killed me but I got it done! I did it! yay me!

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The bed shifting wakes you. The room is dark as you open bleary eyes, your arm reaching out and finding nothing but warm sheets. You roll over into that warm spot, pressing your nose into the pillow.

John.

He’s gotten up, likely to go to the bathroom. You settle back in, pulling the blanket up higher around you. Kyle is off somewhere across the bed snoring softly. You sink into the warmth John left behind, phasing in and out of sleep for the next two hours. The sky starts to lighten as the sun starts to rise, and sleep starts to evade you.

You let out a quiet breath, rolling back over. John hadn’t returned, the bed devoid of his presence while you slid in and out of a light sleep. A frown pulls at your brows as you decide to get up, quietly slipping out of bed to avoid disturbing Kyle. You slip on a robe before you leave the room, heading down the hall to the kitchen.

John isn’t there either, but there’s a mug in the sink. You start the coffee, letting it drip before you head to the back door, looking out at the yard. John is kneeling in front of one of the built in planters, pulling out weeds. You step out into the cool morning, quietly sliding the door closed before approaching him.

“You’re up early.” You say, coming to a stop beside him.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” He says, not looking up at you as he tugs another weed out of the dirt. “Thought I’d get up and be productive.”

Another frown creases your brow but you don’t push, instead looking at the row of planters. “You want to plant something this year?”

“It’s early enough in the spring we could.” He says. “Flowers or a garden.”

“It might be nice to have some fresh vegetables this summer.” You say, rocking back and forth on your toes. “Or flowers would be pretty. Liven up the outside while we work on it.”

“A garden will take more work, but it’ll give us something to do while we work on getting things set up for animals.” He says.

“Now you’re thinking about animals?” You say, raising a brow.

“I always was,” he says, sitting back on his heels. “I just know we have a lot of work to do before we can think about getting any.” He looks out past the end of the patio to where the green grass disappears down a small hill. It’s starting to get long. “The fence needs some work back there, and we’d have to renovate the barn out there. It’s in dire need of repairs.”

You hum, looking out at the distance before looking back down at him. “You’ve been thinking a lot this morning.”

He shrugs, going back to weeding. “I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

So much for retirement being relaxing, you think, but then again, it’s good that he’s finding something to do with himself. You know he’d be going stir-crazy if he didn’t have something to do. He’s never going to be good at sitting still, not until he has no choice.

You head back into the house, Kyle up and making himself some tea.

“Morning, love.” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He passes you a mug for your coffee. “How long has he been out there?”

You shrug. “Probably a while. I heard him get up earlier before it was light out.”

“Think he’s eaten anything?” He asks, tossing his tea bag in the trash.

“Probably not.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee.

“I’ll start on breakfast, you keep an eye on him.” Kyle leans down to press a kiss to your lips before making for the fridge pulling out some eggs.

You take a seat at the table, hardly more than a card table with plastic chairs but it’s what you could get without committing to a full dining table yet. The couch and the bed had been the first purchases and now you were going to slowly accumulate more and more furniture over time.

You can see John out the window, still kneeling and weeding the planters. His brow is pulled in focus, gaze locked into the dirt. You’ve seen him like that before, the intense focus on his task, the drive to complete whatever goal he’s set out for himself. Some deep part of you is starting to feel a bit on edge about it, but at the same time, as long as he’s happy…

You go out to fetch him when breakfast is ready, avoiding stepping in any of the dirt piles laying on the concrete. “Breakfast’s ready.” You say, coming to stand beside him.

“I’ll be in, in a minute.” He says, not even looking up at you.”

You stand there for a long moment, waiting for any more acknowledgment but none comes. “Okay.” You say quietly before turning on your heel, making your way back into the house.

“He coming?” Kyle asks, setting out plates.

“He said he’ll be in soon.” You say, taking a seat at the table.

Kyle frowns, shaking his head. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll go get him.”

You watch Kyle step out the door, reaching for the eggs as he stops beside John, words passing between them before he walks back towards the house. John stays where he is for a moment before he gets up, brushing the dirt off his jeans before heading towards the house as well.

You try not to let it bother you. You really don’t want it to, but you can’t deny the pang of hurt that John brushed you off so easily, but he listened to Kyle. They have a bond stronger than yours, different than yours. They’ve been through combat together, they trust each other on a level you’ll never achieve.

Whatever Kyle said, it worked. That’s what you should be thankful for.

John smells like dirt as he passes, going to wash his hands before he sits at the table on your other side. You’re already eating, shoving down your emotions with every swallow.

It’s quiet at the table, that prickle still in the back of your mind that something is off lingering. Your omega is picking up on something, but you don’t know what it is. You knew there would be an adjustment period, that things would be hard for a while, but you hadn’t really known what to expect. Maybe this is the start of it. Maybe it’s just the three of you trying to figure out this new dynamic, this new world. It’s new to all three of you, and maybe you just need some time to settle in. Maybe this tingling will go away with time, as the three of you settle more and more into this new routine.

You can only hope.

The days continue to get warmer and warmer, the three of you focusing your efforts outside. You did decide on a garden this year, or at least to try and get something established for coming years. John had jumped right into that plan, buying plants and soil and fertilizer and all the supplies you’ll need to get it started.

That deep feeling that something is off continues to simmer beneath the surface, reaching out its spindly fingers every time you wake to find John gone from the bed, every time you see him so knee deep in a task he forgets the world around him. He’s still waking early, your body becoming in-tune with his early rises. You wake when the bed shifts, blinking in the darkness, rolling into the warm spot he leaves behind, waiting for him to return but he never does.

Some part of you knew they’d wake early. Well, John would. Kyle has taken to his newfound freedom well, sleeping in later than even you some days. You had laughed about it being his body catching up on missed sleep over the years. You wished John would be able to do the same, yet he continues to wake before the sun.

You want to talk about it, but you’re not sure how to broach the subject. There will be push back. You don’t doubt that one bit. You’re just not ready for a fight like that yet. Things have been going so well. The last thing you want is to shatter this veil of domesticity that you’ve put together.

You manage to catch him one morning, when he’s slow to rise from the bed. You roll before he can push himself up, half asleep as your fingers wrap around his arm.

“John,” You slur, tugging at his arm. “Stay.”

Even half asleep you expect him to brush you off, tuck you in and kiss your head. He does hesitate, but then he gives in, climbing back into the bed. You snuggle up to him, giving him no chance of escape as he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. You let out a content sigh, wanting to play out the dream of a lazy morning, waking in his arms as the sun rises.

You doze back off for a while, nose pressed against his chest, breathing in his scent.

You wake a couple hours later, still squished up against his chest. Kyle in his sleep has partaken in your master plan to trap John, rolling up against your back, his arm slung across you to rest against John’s hip. It’s warm between them, nearly stifling with the sun shining in the window, but you wouldn’t move if the world was on fire. You’re getting what you wanted, but at the same time, there’s a disingenuous feel to it all. John only stayed because you forced him. He’s likely only still here to avoid waking both you and Kyle.

He’s not asleep. You can tell by the way he breathes. You know him well enough to decipher the changes between his breathing, the tension in his body as he lays there with you. He likely didn’t go back to sleep at all, laying awake while the two of you dozed the morning away. He must be itching to get up, itching to do something with the morning besides sleeping it away.

Kyle wakes with a grunt, disappearing from behind your back as he pushes himself up to sit, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Gotta piss.” He mumbles, crawling down to the end of the bed before disappearing into the bathroom.

You lay where you are, fingers brushing John’s chest, drawing small patterns against his skin. “Thank you for staying.” You murmur, shifting closer against him.

He hums quietly, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“I think you could have gotten away if you wanted to.” You say, pressing a kiss to his skin.

He lets out a sigh, rolling over until you’re pressed against the mattress under him. “And miss this?”

He has missed this. For days he’s been missing this.

You’d never say that out loud, though.

His face presses into your neck, breathing in your scent. Lips press gentle kisses against your skin, a content hum leaving your lips. Your hand sinks into his hair, neatly trimmed to your disappointment. There’s still time yet to convince him to grow it out.

You yelp as his teeth sink into your skin, pinching it between them. You smack his arm, trying to wiggle out from under him. “Rude!”

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to the skin he just bit. “You were thinking too much.”

You pout, tugging at his hair until his head lifts from your neck. “I always think too much.”

He hums, leaning down to kiss you. “You’re distracted this morning.”

“I’m distracted every morning, but you wouldn’t know that.”

It slips out before you can stop it, but he elects to ignore it.

He breathes against your lips, hips pressing against your leg. “You’ve been thinking too much this morning too.” You say, feeling the bulge in his sleep pants against your thigh.

His scent is thick in the air, projecting, though whether purposefully or not, you’re not sure. You’re no better than him, warmth starting to bloom between your thighs.

“I leave for two minutes and you’re already getting all worked up.” Kyle says, stepping out of the bathroom.

“We’ve been thinking too much.” John says, pulling back just slightly.

“Clearly.” Kyle says. “Don’t have too much fun.” He makes his way towards the door.

“Where are you going?” You ask, lifting your head up to stare at him.

“To start on breakfast.” He shrugs before leaving the room.

“Loser.” You say, flopping back onto the pillow.

“He’s just set on missing out, then.” John says, his hand resting on your stomach. “Hope he makes a big breakfast. You’re going to need it by the time I’m done with you.”

You let out a whine as his teeth nip at your lip, his hand sliding lower. Oh fuck…

Your legs are still shaking as you sit at the table happily nibbling on a piece of bacon. John sits beside you, sipping his tea and scrolling on his phone. Kyle is seated across from you, making quick work of his eggs and toast.

“Easter’s this weekend.” John says. “Simon and Johnny will be here Friday.”

“I’m shocked they’re not driving up Thursday night.” Kyle says.

“I’m sure Johnny wants to,” You say. “It’s probably Simon making him wait until Friday morning.”

“They’ll get here before midday.” Kyle says. “I’ll put money on that.”

“Johnny will have them on the road before the sun’s up. Lad’s excited to get here.” John says.

“He misses us.” You shrug, spooning eggs into your mouth.

“If it wasn’t for Simon, I don’t doubt he’d have retired too.” Kyle says.

It falls silent for a moment. Of course Johnny would never abandon Simon like that. He’s loyal to his alpha and he’ll follow him wherever he goes, no matter if it means splitting the pack up. You would have liked having Johnny here too, but at the same time, you’re glad Simon has him. The thought of Simon being alone in the barracks tugs at something in your heart. He’d do it, no doubt, but it would be a lonely existence.

“Do you think Simon will ever retire?” You ask quietly, piece of toast in hand, but you can’t bring yourself to take a bite.

“He’ll have to eventually.” John says. “The body wears down and Simon would never take a desk job.”

Or he’ll die in the field.

That truth remains unspoken, but all three of you know that risk. John and Kyle had lived it many times, and you had spent the better part of six months living that reality. Now you’re living it again. Even if the threat isn’t there for your entire pack now, it doesn’t lessen the worry you’ll always carry for Johnny and Simon.

“Do you think he’d ever retire for us?” You ask, voicing the hidden question you’ve had burning at the back of your mind ever since John announced his retirement.

John lets out a heavy breath. “That’s not a question I can answer,” he admits honestly. “You’d have to ask him that yourself.”

“So we’ll never know.” You say quietly, staring down at the last piece of bacon on your plate.

“Simon’s a complex man.” John says softly. “As much as I’d like to think I can, I can’t put myself completely in his head. There’s things he does that surprise even me sometimes.”

“It’ll be good to see them.” You say, cutting off the conversation before you can think too hard about it. “I’ve missed them.”

“So have I.” Kyle says, stealing the bacon off your plate, knowing you’re not going to eat anymore. Your appetite has been spoiled by the heavy topic of conversation. “I bet Johnny will cry when he sees us again.”

“Oh he’s definitely breaking down.” You agree.

“He’s going to cry, and then he’s going straight for the bed.” Kyle chuckles. “Your poor pussy is going to feel every day that he’s been away.”

You wince, squeezing your thighs together at the thought of how much she’s about to go through.

“Simon is going to be just as insatiable.” John says.

“We might as well sleep in the guest room on the air mattress.” Kyle says to John. “Probably won’t be getting much sleep that first night.”

“What, you don’t want to join in?” You ask, staring at them over your mug as you sip your coffee.

John’s gaze darkens, Kyle’s jaw twitching as they stare at you. There’s a sudden tension in the air, their scents starting to thicken.

“As much as we’d enjoy it, they deserve some time with you to themselves.” John says lowly, a subtle growl in his voice.

“We’ve been spoiled, getting to have you whenever we want.” Kyle says, his own voice pitched low and gruff. “Only seems right to give them that chance.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you stare at them, eyes flicking back and forth from John’s gaze to Kyle’s, then back. You feel small under the intensity of their gaze, the back of your neck tingling. A deep part of you is wanting to run, to give them chase, but you wouldn’t make it far. Down the hall maybe. Probably not even into the room.

“Smell that?” John rasps, taking in a deep inhale.

“Thought you wore her out already.” Kyle rumbles.

“Thought I did too.” John’s gaze is dark, another shiver running down your spine.

You can stop yourself as you jump up, racing towards the entrance to the kitchen. They’re on their feet almost as soon as you are, footsteps thudding behind you. You slip on the turn around the corner, flying down the hall to the room.

You just manage to get the door closed, flipping the lock before taking a step back. They’ll get through, you don’t doubt that. Instead your gaze turns towards the window, an idea popping into your head. You don’t care that your barefoot as you climb into the bed, pushing the window open. It gives a bit of resistance from the damp air outside but you get it open just enough to slip through and onto the patio. You take off towards the grass, hearing the sliding door open.

A body hits you from behind, forcing you down into the grass. You just made it off the patio, breathing hard as you land in the tall foliage. Kyle is on top of you, flipping you over onto your back, John right beside him. You’re laughing, kicking out at Kyle as he tickles your sides.

“Little shit.” He grins, not even breathing hard after the short run.

“Giving us chase, you little minx.” John says, pinning down your top half.

“Not my fault you were stinking up the house.” You giggle, giving up the fight.

“Enjoy that did you?” John asks, staring down at you.

“Yeah.” You breathe, staring up into those intense blue eyes.

You can see the thoughts behind those eyes, the ideas his brain is coming up with and storing for later. Another shiver runs down your spine at the thought.

Finally Kyle lets up, leaning his body over yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him down so he’s chest to chest with you. He grunts softly, catching himself on his elbows.

“We gonna make this a regular thing?” He asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Do you want it to be?” You ask softly.

He smirks. “That’s up to you and how much you feel like running.”

You hum. “Might have to pull out my running shoes again.”

Kyle chuckles, pressing a kiss to your lips before sitting up on his knees. “Gotta work on that stamina.” He grins, his hand trailing up your side. “Johnny and Simon will get a head start on that.”

You swallow thickly, your scent starting to project again.

“Don’t get her riled up too much.” John says, shifting your wrists into one of his hands, the other dropping to brush across your lips. “She’s already had an exciting morning.”

“I didn’t get to have my fun.” Kyle says.

John releases you as you push yourself up to stand, staring down at him where he sits on his knees. You drag your fingers through his curls tugging his head back. “Maybe you should have stayed then.” You lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead before stepping around him, making your way back towards the house.

“Shit,” he breathes, your ears just picking it up as you reach the sliding glass door.

A grin splits your face as you step back into the house, leaving them outside.

The bed dipping again pulls you from sleep. You roll over, reaching out but find nothing but air. The shadowy figure of John disappears into the gaping maw that is the bathroom before the door closes and the light turns on. You lay there in the dark, staring at the strip of light for a moment. You’re half tempted to get up, to beat him to the kitchen, finally confront him about his sleep, but Kyle chooses that moment to roll over and wrap his arms around you. You silently curse him, laying there as the bathroom door opens, John’s shadow making its way across the room and out the door.

You let out a sigh. John hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s up late and rises early, and you know he gets up sometimes during the night. You want to ask, you want to talk to him, but you don’t know how. You’re not sure he would talk to you, if he even could. Something’s up with him and it’s bothering you that you can’t help. Instead you lay there helpless in Kyle’s arms, staring at the wall until your eyes start to droop.

It’s light out when they open again. Kyle’s gone, his warmth fading from the bed. John’s side is cold, just as you expected. You lay there in the blankets for a moment, staring up at the ceiling illuminated by the sun coming in through the window. It’s Friday, which means Johnny and Simon will be on their way here soon, if they aren’t already. They had sounded excited on the call last night, and you can’t help but wonder if Johnny got any sleep. You hope he did considering he’ll be driving.

You climb out of bed finally, pulling on a pair of shorts before heading to the kitchen. The smell of toast and eggs wafts down the hallway, drawing you towards the sounds coming from the kitchen.

“Morning, love.” Kyle says softly, turning to look at you from the stove.

“Morning.” You say, rubbing your eyes as you head for the coffee pot.

John is seated at the table, nursing a tea with his phone in hand. He looks tired, dark circles like bruises under his eyes. You wonder what he does when he wakes so early. Go on a run? Sit and have an existential crisis? Scroll on his phone until his mind is numb and leaking out of his ears?

“Morning, sweetheart.” He murmurs over the top of his mug when you take a seat at the table.

“You were up early.” You say, your heart pounding in your chest. You’re pushing a boundary here, but curiosity is beginning to make you brave.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Is all he says, setting his mug back down on the table. For some reason, it feels like a finality.

If you were braver, you’d push, but you don’t have it in you. Not when he’s looking like this.

Kyle interrupts the moment, or perhaps saves it, as he sets a plate of toast, eggs, and sausages down on the table. You’re not particularly hungry, but you eat anyway, knowing you’re going to need the strength later.

“Johnny and Simon left around 6 this morning.” John says.

“That early?” You frown.

“I’m surprised they didn’t leave earlier.” Kyle says.

“They should be here around noon.” John continues. “Perhaps earlier depending on if Johnny decides the rules of the road are actually rules.”

“Maybe later if he gets pulled over again.” Kyle says.

“He’s been pulled over before?” Your brows raise, though you’re not sure why you’re surprised.

“A few times.” John says. “He’s even gotten out of a ticket a couple times.”

“It’s the charisma and charm.” You say.

“Nah, he just plays dumb.” Kyle says.

“Or that.” You giggle.

The three of you finish breakfast and you set up to make sure the house looks perfect, even with its sparse furniture and décor. You want it to look good for Johnny and Simon. You want their first impression of your nest to be a good one. They’ll probably like it regardless. Anything will beat the barracks, but still, you have that drive to make sure everything is in its place and perfectly aligned.

Noon arrives with great anticipation, and you eagerly await the sound of tires on gravel outside.

You don’t have to wait long, your body up off the couch as soon as you hear the crunch of rocks that make up the front driveway. You fling the front door open, standing there impatiently as Johnny parks next to Kyle’s car.

Simon exits the vehicle first so he’s your first target, your body bee-lining to him automatically, even before you realize it. You almost slam into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as tight as you can, squeezing him like your life depends on it. He lets out a quiet grunt at the impact, but his arms fall around you too.

Tears sting your eyes as you rest against his chest, emotions welling up inside of you. It’s been almost two months since you’ve seen them. Even with the hectic business of the house and settling in, there lingered an ache deep in your chest, the ache of missing the other half of your pack.

Simon’s scent floods your senses and you breathe it in deeply, almost tasting the scent of leather and eucalyptus and the distant tang of gun powder. His own nose is pressed into your hair, breathing in your own sweet scent.

“Missed you, love.”

It’s murmured against the top of your head, rumbling deep in his chest against your ear. Three simple words but they have the tears finally sliding down your cheeks. You missed his scent, his voice, his arms around you. You’ve missed him more than you thought, that ache in your chest all the more noticeable now that he’s back with you. You missed your alpha, his warmth, his comfort, his strength. You’d drop to your knees and beg him to retire right now if you could bear to tear yourself away from his hold.

“Missed you so much.” You whisper, your voice wavering.

His hands rub your back, fingers trailing through your hair. “I’m here.” He whispers, lips pressing against your forehead. “I’ve got you.”

The two of you stand there, caught up in the moment for a few breaths, the tears still trailing down your cheeks. You don’t want to let him go. You’d fuse yourself to him if you could.

A voice cuts through the silence, breaking the quiet moment.

“Did ye forget about me?”

You reluctantly pull yourself back from Simon, turning in his arms to blink blearily at Johnny. “No.” You say, reaching out for him. “You wouldn’t let me.”

He nearly slams into you, picking you up off the ground and spinning you. “Oh I missed ye, kitten.”

“I missed you too.” You giggle through the tears, wrapping your arms tight around him. “I missed you so much.”

Johnny sets you back on your feet, cupping your face in his hands as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. He groans quietly as he finally gets a taste of you after months, kissing you hard.

His thumbs stroke your cheeks, wiping tears against your skin. You missed him terribly too, breathing in his soft, warm scent as he pulls your body close against his. His kiss leaves your lips, trailing down your cheek to your neck, his nose pressing into your skin as he inhales deeply.

“Fucking missed this.” He groans, his hands sliding down your back.

“Alright, come on you needy pup.” John says, slapping his shoulder. “Don’t get too excited. You don’t want the neighbors to see.”

Johnny pulls back, looking around at the farmlands that surround you. “What neighbors?”

“Come on,” John says motioning with his head. “I thought you wanted to see the house.”

“I do!” Johnny says excitedly, taking your hand. “Show me this wonderful place, kitten.”

You giggle, wiping the tears from your cheeks with your free hand. “Come on.” You lead him up the steps of the porch to the front door.

“It’s cute.” Simon says, following behind you.

“She’s a little sparse, but I think you’ll see the vision.” You say, leading them inside.

You give them a tour, showing them around the living area and the kitchen, then outside to the patio and the land that stretches beyond, telling them all about your plans and the animals you’ll get soon. Then you head back inside, showing them around the guest rooms and the bathroom before you end in the main bedroom.

“Screamin’ Jesus that’s quite the bed.” Johnny says, toeing off his shoes before jumping onto the mattress.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” You ask, following him up onto the bed. “John got the reinforced frame.”

“Good.” Simon says, crawling on behind you. “I assume you’ve put it to the test already.”

You giggle bashfully. “We’ve put it through some thorough testing.” You lay back against the pillows, staring up at him. “Though there’s still a few things we have to try.”

His gaze darkens as he stares down at you, his hand lifting to cup your cheek. “We’re you waiting for us?” His voice is low, rumbling deep in his chest.

You nod, breathless under his gaze. “Yes.”

“Christ in heaven.” Johnny moans, shifting on your other side.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at them, your body starting to buzz excitedly. You’ve missed them so much, their touch, their taste, their smell. Being this close to them again almost makes you dizzy, your mind reeling from the look of them above you, making you feel small beneath them.

“Happy for your reunion, but would you like lunch before you defile our omega?” Kyle’s voice cuts through the moment.

Simon and Johnny both look away, turning to glance at Kyle. They glance back at each other, having a silent conversation before looking back at the other beta.

“Lunch would be great.” Simon says, pushing himself up off the bed.

You pout, pushing yourself up to sit. “But what about me?”

Simon gives you a wicked grin, adjusting his pants. “You can be our afternoon snack.”

A whine leaves your throat at his words, your teeth sinking into your lip again.

You don’t get to be the afternoon snack. The five of you get too caught up talking and getting each other caught up with your lives that it’s dinner before you know it. You help Kyle cook, working on your skills with him so he doesn’t always have to be the one cooking. He doesn’t mind, it’s something to do, but at the same time you feel bad. He deserves a break every so often too.

Dinner passes by quickly, the five of you retiring to the living room after, nursing beers as you relax in post-food euphoria. You’re squeezed on the couch between Simon and John, Kyle and Johnny taking to the floor, spread out on the carpet.

“It’s good to be back together again.” You say, leaning your head on Simon’s shoulder. “I missed this.”

“Aye, it feels wrong to be apart for so long.” Johnny says, leaning back on his hand.

“You can always retire.” You say, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Wish it were that easy.” Simon grumbles, leaning his head back against John’s hand. His arm is draped across the back of the couch, fingers playing with the hair at the base of Simon’s head.

“I know.” You say, taking another swig of beer. It tastes like piss but you’re too afraid to say anything, lest you face the teasing of the Brits before you. “So what do you think of the house?” You ask, changing the topic of conversation to something a little more lively.

“It’s cute.” Simon says. “Very much you.”

“Feels homey already.” Johnny says. “Can’t wait tae see it when it’s fully decorated.”

“I approve of the bed choice.” Simon says, his hand dropping to your thigh.

A shiver works its way up your spine, the promise of what’s going to happen later silently conveyed by that one action. You can’t wait, but they seem content where they are, dragging it out for you.

The anticipation only adds to the arousal starting to build within you.

Simon’s hand continues to rest on your thigh as the conversation continues, his thumb stroking your skin. You wish his fingers would slide higher, press against the seam of your shorts where you’re starting to get wet. No doubt your scent is thickening in the air, filling the room with your thick scent.

All four pairs of eyes are on you suddenly, your skin tingling from their gaze. You try and hide behind your beer can, sinking further into the couch.

“Someone’s getting excited.” Kyle smirks.

“Yeah, well, I missed my boys.” You say, taking a big swig of beer, hoping for a little liquid courage.

Simon’s hand finally slides up your thigh, fingers pressing between your legs, feeling the heat there. He slides your shorts to the side, his hand cupping you through your panties. “I’ll say.” He nearly groans, his fingers stroking you through the fabric.

Johnny takes in a deep breath before downing the rest of his beer, setting the can on the coffee table. “I cannae take much more.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. He’s sporting a hard-on, cock bulging through his jeans.

Simon’s hand leaves you as Johnny bends down, his shoulder meeting your middle as he pulls you up and over his shoulder. You let out a squeal, hands fisting his shirt to try and keep steady.

“See ye in the morning.” He says, already heading down the hall to the bedroom.

Your back meets the bed, bouncing from the impact as he quickly tears his shirt over his head. You lick your lips at the sight of him, drinking in every last inch of skin revealed to you as he kicks off his pants.

“Eager tonight.” You say, laying back on your elbows.

“Missed ye.” He grunts, nearly catching a foot in his boxers before he kicks them across the room. His cock is hard where it hangs between his thighs, red and angry already. He’s been horny just as long as you have, likely even longer. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was half hard on the drive up here.

His fingers curl under your waistband, yanking your shorts and panties down your legs and off your feet. He pushes your legs open, bending them up so they’re resting against your chest. A curse leaves his lips as he stares down at your soaked folds, his hands sliding down your thighs. You tug your shirt over your head as he leans down, dragging his tongue through your folds.

A deep groan leaves his lips, his eyes rolling back. “Fucking beautiful.”

He buries his face in your pussy, slurping like a man starved. His tongue laps through your folds, drinking up every last drop of your juices that dribbles out of you. You let out a sigh, laying back on the bed as you finally get some friction against your pulsing clit.

He closes his lips around it, sucking hard. Your eyes roll back, toes curling from the pleasure. John and Kyle have ignored you for the last couple days, giving you time to rest and recuperate before this moment, when Simon and Johnny finally got their hands on you again.

A whimper leaves your lips as he’s suddenly pulled back, your head lifting to find Simon standing beside him, hand gripping Johnny’s mohawk. Johnny’s face is shiny from your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he stares up at Simon.

“Needy little mutt.” Simon says, his gaze focused on Johnny. “Getting started without me?”

“Couldnae help it.” Johnny almost whines, his fingers flexing against your thighs. “Smelled so good.”

Simon hums, fingers releasing Johnny’s hair. “Well then,” he shoves Johnny’s face back towards your pussy. “Do your job and make her cum.”

“Yes, sir.” Johnny murmurs before he’s back at your pussy, lips closing around your clit again.

Simon climbs on the bed beside you, leaning on his arm. His free hand grips your chin, turning your face towards his. You stare up into those deep, dark eyes, a shiver running down your spine from the unmistakable lust in his gaze. His scent is quickly filling the air, mixing with yours and Johnny’s.

Your lips part with a gasp as his hand slides down your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat. Your pulse thrums against his fingers, toes curling from the attention that Johnny is giving to your clit. You’re going to cum, your chest rising and falling quickly as Simon’s hold on you tightens just slightly.

You grip Johnny’s hair, pulling his face harder against your pussy, hips lifting to grind against his mouth. You don’t care that you might be smothering him, and you doubt he cares either as he continues to eagerly slurp at your clit. You continue to hold Simon’s gaze, mouth falling open as you get closer and closer to the edge. Simon’s gaze doesn’t waver, neither does his grip around your throat as he holds you there, keeping you steady while Johnny has you coming undone.

Pleasure comes in waves as you cum, legs shaking against Johnny’s hands as he sucks hard on your clit. It’s almost too much, your back arching off the bed. One hand wraps around Simon’s wrist, holding on for dear life as you gush into Johnny’s mouth. He lets out a groan, lapping up every last drop of slick.

“Good boy.” Simon praises him, finally releasing you to stand back up.

You drop lax on the bed as Johnny finally releases you, kneeling on the floor in front of Simon. Their gazes are locked as Simon starts to undress, tugging his shirt over his head before taking his time undoing his belt. You lay on the bed, watching the moment while trying to catch your breath.

Simon kicks his pants off before climbing onto the bed, moving past you to lounge against the sheets, his cock resting against his stomach. He stares at you and Johnny, arms behind his head looking as causal as can be.

“Well?” he lifts a brow. “It’s not going to suck itself.”

You and Johnny share a look before you’re moving, climbing between his spread legs. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock as Johnny climbs up beside you, his arm brushing yours as he leans down, wasting no time. You start to stroke Simon’s cock as Johnny takes his head into his mouth, sucking lightly. You keep your gaze on Simon’s face, his eyes lidded as he watches you.

You push Johnny aside and bend down, flicking your tongue across Simon’s slit, feeling him get harder in your hand. You circle his head with your tongue before prodding at his slit again, still stroking him with your hand.

A hand tangles in your hair, pulling you off of Simon’s cock. Johnny releases you before bending back down, taking Simon’s cock in his mouth. His hand rests on Simon’s thigh as he sinks down until his lips touch your hand where you stroke him. He bats your hand away before sinking even lower, gagging as Simon’s cock hits the back of his throat.

“Show off.” You breathe, shouldering him aside as you take his place, taking Simon’s cock into your mouth.

Johnny’s hand grips the back of your neck but you drive an elbow into his stomach, sinking down as far as you can until you feel your gag reflex start to protest.

A hand tangles in your hair, tugging you up off of Simon’s cock. Simon is holding you, his other hand gripping Johnny’s mohawk. Both of you stare up at him, drool sliding down your chin.

“Enough.” He growls, releasing you. “Behave.”

You turn to look at Johnny, his face leaning forward to lick the drool off your chin. You let out a choked sound as his lips slide up, meeting yours. You grip Simon’s cock again, both of you leaning down. Your tongues entwine, licking all over Simon’s cock as you start to stroke him again. He’s leaking, precum beading from his slit. Johnny swipes a drop with his tongue, smearing it across Simon’s head. Your teeth scrape the delicate skin of his cock, smirking as you feel the twitch against your hand. He’s close, the heavy rise and fall of his chest visible out of the corner of your eye.

You drop your hand to his balls as Johnny takes him into his mouth again, bobbing his head as he sucks Simon off. A deep groan leaves Simon’s mouth as you massage his balls, feeling them tighten before he cums, spurting into Johnny’s mouth.

Johnny takes every last drop, your hand stroking Simon until he stops twitching. Johnny pulls off of him, your hand darting out to grip his chin before you force your tongue in his mouth before he can swallow. Simon’s cum is bitter on your tongue as you flick it against Johnny’s, his tongue passing some of it to you. You can almost feel the deep groan that leaves Simon, his cock hardening again in your hand.

You swallow down what you got, pulling away from Johnny. Both of you turn to look at Simon, his eyes lidded, mouth parted as he breathes. His hand reaches out for you and you crawl forward, letting him guide you to sit on his stomach. His hand lifts up to brush your bottom lip, cleaning off the residue of drool and cum.

“Did you enjoy that?” He asks quietly, softly, so very different from the commanding presence you had just witnessed.

You nod. “Yes.”

“Good.” He cups your cheek with his hand. “I missed that fucking mouth. Had to put up with that slag for weeks.”

Johnny lets out a whimper, his hand dropping to drag against his own cock.

“Missed this pussy even more.” He says, his hands falling to your waist to drag your hips against his stomach. “Been dreaming about it.”

You rest your hands against his chest, rocking your hips back and forth, dragging your clit against his skin. You’re leaving a wet patch but you don’t care, shamelessly using him for pleasure.

“Now, before I turn you into a little fountain, there’s something I need you to do first.” He cups the back of your neck, pulling you down towards his face. His breath fans your ear as he whispers. “Johnny’s been an awful good boy waiting for this moment. Why don’t you give him the ride of his life and milk him dry with your pussy.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, pushing yourself back up on his chest. You climb off of him, pressing your hands against Johnny’s chest, guiding him to lay next to Simon. He goes willingly, eyes locked with yours as you maneuver him.

You settle yourself over his hips, taking his cock in your hand. It’s already rock hard, tip leaking. He’s not going to last long once he’s inside of you, but that’s all part of this plan. Fuck him till he begs you to stop, no matter what. You just have to outlast him.

His head falls back as you lower yourself onto his cock, a moan leaving your lips at the stretch of him. Simon turns on his side, watching the two of you as you sink down completely, sitting yourself on Johnny’s hips.

“Feel good?” Simon hums.

You nod. “So good. Missed you so much.”

“We know.” Simon says, slapping Johnny’s cheek lightly. “Be a gentleman and watch your omega as she uses you.”

Johnny tilts his head back down, lips parted as you start to move, lifting yourself up before lowering again on his cock. Simon’s hand rests against Johnny’s stomach, his other hand propping himself up as he watches you. Johnny’s hands rest on your thighs, gripping tightly as you bounce on his cock, squeezing around him with every press of his tip against that spot inside of you.

You have to outlast him. You just have to make it longer than him.

He’s not going to last that long.

He’s already twitching, hips jerking under you as you grind your hips, angling yourself so your clit drags across his skin. He’s moaning and whining, fingers dimpling your skin from how tightly he’s gripping you.

He cums quickly, nearly bucking you off as he spills inside of you, but you don’t stop, continuing to fuck yourself on his cock. Simon holds the base of his cock as you continue to bounce, feeling him getting hard again. He’s panting, lips parted as he stares at you, cheeks flushed and eyes shiny. He looks wrecked and he’s only cum once.

“Fucking...Jesus.” he groans, back arching as you continue your movements, pussy fluttering around his cock, squeezing him. “I cannae take it.”

“You can.” Simon says, moving his hand once Johnny’s completely hard again. “And you will.”

Johnny whines, hands bruising on your thighs as he desperately hangs on, eyes fluttering. You don’t stop despite the ache in your thighs, the sweat soaking your skin. Your stamina isn’t what it used to be, but you ignore the fatigue, grinding against him again, pushing yourself closer and closer to the edge.

Johnny’s hands leave your thighs and slide up to your waist, aiding you with every bounce, the sound of wet skin slapping wet skin filling the air.

“Come on,” Simon goads him, sitting up on his knees. “You can do it.” His hand slides behind you, gripping Johnny’s balls.

A curse leaves Johnny’s lips, his back arching as he thrusts up into you, nearly throwing you off of him, but Simon’s other hand settles on your waist, keeping you upright. You’re tired, sweat dripping off your forehead but you don’t stop, not even when Simon’s fingers slide to your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive bud.

“You too.” He breathes in your ear. “Come on.”

You cum with a cry, legs giving out as you squeeze around Johnny’s cock. Johnny cums with a shout, filling you a second time. He’s shaking too, falling limp beneath you.

“I cannae…I cannae take more.” He gasps, trying to push you off of him.

You lift your hips, letting him slip out of you, his cock landing with a wet smack against his stomach. You lay yourself against his chest as Simon rises, heading for the bathroom. You rest against Johnny for a moment, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

“Fucking better than I remembered.” Johnny breathes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Fucking magical pussy.”

You giggle, that giggle turning into a shriek as Simon flips you off of Johnny onto your back on the bed next to him. There’s a towel under your hips, Simon kneeling between your thighs.

Oh, he wasn’t kidding.

He pushes your trembling legs up, spreading you open before him. “There she is.” He says, eyes locked on your pussy, some of Johnny’s cum dripping out of you. “Isn’t that a sight.”

He moves your hands to hold the backs of your thighs, pussy spread open for him. His fingers rub slow circles over your clit, eyes locked with yours. You’re sure you’re a sight right now. Sweaty face, damp hair sticking to your skin, still shaking from your last orgasm, Johnny’s cum slowly seeping out of your wet pussy. Looking properly wrecked and he hasn’t even started with you yet.

Johnny is beside you, watching with interest. He knows what’s about to happen. He’s not stupid...well, not completely. He might have been fucked dumb but it wouldn’t take a genius to realize what’s about to happen to you.

Simon slides his hand lower, slipping two fingers into you. You whimper, still sensitive after fucking Johnny. Despite that your pussy squelches around his fingers, walls fluttering as he finds that spot inside you. You brace yourself, breathing through the slow thrusts of his fingers against that spot.

You can feel the slow build of pressure, the pleasure starting to thrum under your skin. The anticipation nearly takes you out, toes curling as you wait for him to truly start. His gaze is on your face, watching you as he slowly picks up the pace, pushing his fingers against that spot faster and faster. Your lips fall open, breaths coming in short gasps as the pleasure builds, pussy fluttering uncontrollably.

It gets to be too much, feeling like you might explode as he drives his fingers into that spot, a cry leaving your lips as you squirt all over his hand.

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny breathes, watching your body writhe on the bed, Simon’s fingers driving right back into you, thrusting up against that spot again.

Simon’s hand presses against your stomach, pinning you down as you try to writhe away. “One more.” He grunts, thrusting his fingers hard against that spot before you squirt again, soaking his hand and the towel. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t give you any time to recover, slotting himself between your legs and thrusting into you. Your pussy stretches around him, not even Johnny able to fully prepare you for the size of him. You fall limp against the bed, Simon tossing your legs over his shoulders before he’s thrusting into you, snapping his hips against yours. You reach out, gripping Johnny’s arm as your back arches, your fluttering pussy squeezing around Simon’s big cock as you ride one orgasm into another.

It’s too much, your vision swimming as you try to breathe. You feel like you’re floating, the pleasure almost painful as he snaps his hips against yours, grinding the tip of his cock against that spot inside of you. He’s grunting and growling, hands gripping the comforter under you. You can’t do anything but lay there and take what he’s giving you, your legs trembling uncontrollably as he wrings another orgasm out of you.

“Fucking shit.” He groans, hands pinning you to the bed as he fucks you hard, driving the tip of his cock into your spot over and over. You can feel it building again, that unmeasurable pressure as tears leak out of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations. “Come on.” He grunts, driving his hips upward. “One more for me.”

He thrusts into you hard, hips meeting your ass as you squirt around his cock, your vision going dark from the pleasure.

“I think ye killed her.” Johnny’s voice reaches you through the ringing in your ears.

You’re shaking all over, body limp on the bed as you blink bleary eyes up at Simon. He’s still above you, one hand stroking the tears from your cheeks.

“There she is.” He says softly, gently easing your legs from his shoulders. “Welcome back.”

“I think he’s right.” You rasp, body still trembling. “I think you killed me.”

Simon chuckles, pulling himself out of you. Cum and slick seeps from your pussy, adding to the damp spot already soaking through the towel. “You did so good for me.” He praises you, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. “Took me so well.”

You pull him down against you, sweat mixing with sweat as you hold him for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone,” you say, your fucked-stupid brain forgetting to whisper. “But your cock is my favorite.”

Johnny goes to protest, but he stops himself. “Ye know after that, I don’t blame ye kitten.”

Simon chuckles, pushing himself back up. “Let’s get you both cleaned up.”

He uses the towel to wipe between your thighs before taking it to the bathroom, adding it to the hamper. He grabs a clean cloth, wetting it before coming back, wiping you down, then Johnny. You manage to get your body to roll over, cuddling up against Johnny’s side.

“That was good, kitten.” He says, kissing your forehead. “Got my cock achin’.”

“I think my pussy needs rehydrating.” You murmur, sleep already starting to tug at the back of your brain.

Simon maneuvers the covers out from under you, tucking in you and Johnny before sliding in behind you after turning out the light. He tucks himself against your back, tossing an arm over you.

“Missed you a lot.” You slur, half asleep already.

“I know.” Simon says, kissing the back of your head. “We missed you a lot too. Not just your pussy, but every part of you. Your presence, your humor. Having someone there to protect and take care of. It’s not the same without you.”

You make a small noise, wiping your sweaty forehead. “Who knew all I needed to do was leave for two months and suddenly you’d get sentimental.”

Simon grunts, pulling you and Johnny tighter against him. “Don’t get a big head, you little shit.”

You can’t help but smile, comforted by his words. At least you know they do miss you.

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[lily-bisque]

𝒹oin' 𝓉ime 𓍯𓂃 𝓈ummer 𝒷ash 𝒸ollab 🐚

your dream destination on the coast of the amalfi waters in italy awaits 𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

teaser ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹

pairing: assistantfem!reader x childhoodfriend/prostitute!toji

synopsis: sparkling turquoise waters, hidden coves, and limoncello for days in the illustrious city on the amalfi coast was just how you wanted to start your work-trip—now instead struggling to find a room for the night thanks to your arrogant boss leaving you to fend for yourself. yet your hopes begin to float just above the surface when your fate crashes with your old childhood neighbor with a questionable past but an annoyingly dashing charm beneath the sun-kissed shore glow. it really is a small world after all.

contents: tba, nothing in this teaser!

a/n: this oneshot is part of my summer bash collab that i have been lucky enough to get sixteen other writers on board with! was far too excited writing this, so here's a little snippet. comment to be tagged on the oneshot once it's posted <3

“You know, the whole ‘macho mystery man’ look is getting old,” you deadpanned with finger quotes, despite him not being able to see it. “I’ve literally seen you trip over your own feet and fling your arms at nothing.”

“Well, thankfully I’ll only have to indulge in your presence for the evening since I’m kicking you out at dawn,” he retorted, kicking the door open after shoving his key into the keyhole.

“Yeah yeah I’ll get out of your hair—.” You cut yourself off when you got a view of the room. Don’t get it wrong here, the room was fucking gorgeous.

The issue? There was a singular bed—no connecting door to another room or anything.

What the hell were you expecting?

You huffed a laugh, swiveling your head to your childhood friend. “So I’m guessing this is where I’m staying and you’ve got another room?”

He looked at you over his shoulder as he tossed your bag onto the mussed mattress, where you can only assume he slept in the night before. “Fuck are you talking about? There’s a pullout couch.”

You laughed incredulously at him, not even caring that you could get a noise complaint at this hour. “...Seriously?”

He turned around, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head. “Yeah. Wouldn’t even be our first time sharing a room, anyway.”

You twitched at that, your heart stalling in your chest for a moment as words died on your tongue. Give it to Toji for making things weird.

“Uhm. Just… give me a second.”

You hurried out of the room, shuffling down the winding steps and stopping right before the jaded receptionist at the front, heart roaring in your ears. “Are you guys fully booked for the night?”

She had her legs and arms crossed, peering up at you whilst smacking her gum, an annoyed and tired expression coloring her. She leaned over the computer and clicked a few things out of your view. “We’ve got one room left.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling your shoulders slump. “Perfect. I’ll take it.”

She gave you a feigned smile. “It’s our presidential suite, however. It requires proof of high status such as dignitaries or heads of states. Otherwise, we keep it open.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at that. “What? Who the hell cares who I am if I’m a paying customer?”

She shrugged, panning her screen towards you. “Well, can you afford it?”

Your gaze followed the screen, squinting against the harsh light, when you made out the multiple zero’s coming after the euro symbol, your maw falling slack.

The walk back to Toji’s suite was a dreadful one, being told that every other hotel in a thirty mile radius was also booked out, dragging your feet and pushing the door open with your head downcast.

The television was now droning on with some static-y hotel-like cable sitcom that aired after hours, enough to make you shiver.

Your bags were in the same place Toji had left them, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Your eyebrows drew in as your head turned on a swivel, peeking into the bathroom and the closet warily, as if he were waiting to jump out and catch you off guard like a deer in headlights, but no.

“Oi. Get in here,” you heard his voice bellow past the ajar balcony door.

Your head cocked curiously, following the sound out onto the balcony, the white drapes flitting in the warm night breeze. Peering over the edge, you could see Toji just one floor down, veiny forearms and broad shoulders draped over the edge of some hot tub, the roman-style pool beside it empty.

It was a beautiful set-up, the area littered with potted plants and shrubbery from poppies to sunflowers to roses, giving it a bright glow even in the night.

Toji was sporting black swim trousers, shirtless as the water pooled around his massive pecs. Your thighs subconsciously rubbed against each other at the drooling sight, before you tore your gaze to match his, just the slightest bit curious how on Earth he made it down there without you noticing.

You could imagine him scaling the balcony wall, hopping down barefoot all primal-like.

Hugging yourself, you leaned down to yell-whisper, “Uh, no thanks. I think I’ll just get some sleep.”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes dancing across you. “Couldn’t get a room, huh?”

You shook your head in defeat.

“Alright, well don’t let your first night in La Dolce Vita go to waste just because you’re a little scared of talking to me,” he teased with an accusatory tone, adjusting his manspread. 

You rolled your eyes at his gall, ready to bite back. “I’m not scared of you, Fushiguro.”

“Prove it, bird.” He called out immediately, voice husky and resonating through the charged air.

You clicked your tongue, narrowing your eyes, the slightest bit pissed that Toji was unbelievably talented at riling you up. He knew you far too well, even after all this time.

“Give me five minutes.”

You turned on your heel, heading back into the room and parsing through your bag for your swim trunks.

You’d brought two.

One that you could wear around your boss and her boyfriend without feeling unprofessional—a basic white one piece with a few frills, modest enough. The second, however, was a black strappy two-piece that quite literally left nothing to imagination.

You’d packed the latter in case you’d had a night to yourself and would be able to possibly hook up with someone fun you’d come across, a bit of a reach of your expectations for the weekend but you always came prepared nonetheless.

That’s not what you were planning here though, with Toji—no way in hell, that was nowhere near the front of your mind… ahem.

You simply wanted to get back at the audacious man. Let him know if he could make you uncomfortable, you had no issue doing the same to him.

You grabbed a lotus claw clip and tied your hair up, slipping into the suit and adjusting it so that your cleavage was on full view before slipping your sandals on and padding quickly down.

[shellybortpresents]

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? mom yes, dad no.

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? husby <3

03: Do you regret anything? so much, lol but i'm doing the hard work to let it go, because some things are beyond addressing at this point. in other instances i did my best, and i still feel bad. both get me nowhere, so i do the work. hopefully, one day, it'll work :)

04: Are you insecure? not really, anymore. i guess slightly, sometimes... mostly in situations where i'm dealing with men who i can tell hate women and something important needs to get done. that's always hard. but in general - not really. insecurity is a huge life waster, and i spent enough time insecure in my youth.

05: What is your relationship status? insanely happily married <3

06: How do you want to die? in my old age after a long long happy life, in my husband's arms.

07: What did you last eat? coffee and toast

08: Played any sports? softball when i was young. i was so good at it.

09: Do you bite your nails? no, gross.

10: When was your last physical fight? never. i don't do that.

11: Do you like someone? i like almost everyone.

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? no, i'd probably die. i've come close, but i doze off for small increments within days... i can't fully stay awake.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? just the dictator cheeto, and most men online.

14: Do you miss someone? my perfect angel niece <3

15: Have any pets? in my heart - still 6. currently in my arms - 2 </3

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? extremely sick. i've had covid for 14 days and i'm just getting worse. i think i have bronchitis or the beginnings of pneumonia.

17: Ever made out in the bathroom? lol ohhhhhhhh yes <3

18: Are you scared of spiders? more so than most things.

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 100% yes.

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? oh gosh, it was 15 days ago, so i can't remember, but probably my hubs in bed before i woke up sick.

21: What are your plans for this weekend? sleep, and protect our kids during the 4th fireworks and fall out. we hate it.

22: Do you want to have kids? How many? no answer, no answer.

23: Do you have piercings? How many? just ears, 4. hoping to get my nose done... maybe on my 50th bday :)

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? it was always english/reading/literature. i was reading and comprehending at a college level in 1st grade. i failed practically everything aside from english, music, and photography, haha

25: Do you miss anyone from your past? no. i've made peace with those i did, and gotten back in touch with those i couldn't live without. i'm very happy with my life right now, i've done a lot of really hard work.

26: What are you craving right now? sleep. peace. health.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? oh yes. i was being honest - i have many regrets.

28: Have you ever been cheated on? yes. more so than not.

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? yes.

30: What’s irritating you right now? being so sick it literally hurts to breathe.

31: Does somebody love you? many people do and i'm so grateful <3

32: What is your favourite color? lavender, mustard yellow, blush pink, sky blue... they all swap places as my favorite.

33: Do you have trust issues? yes. one of the many things i work hard on in therapy.

34: Who/what was your last dream about? i was performing with renee rapp. it was so fun. for some reason i woke up coughing so hard i spit out some blood, no joke. i seriously need to go back to the e.r. but i'm so tiredddddd.

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? my husband.

36: Do you give out second chances too easily? yes, but i'm working on it.

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? forget. i really have to do the work on forgiving. i tend to be way too hard core about that. it's a flaw.

38: Is this year the best year of your life? in most ways, no. it's been the hardest year of my life. but that may also make it the best. plus, i'm still alive. so isn't every year of life the best? <3

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 12. then 20 for the next one. the first one was with a boy i loved so much, i didn't want anyone else to touch me for soooo long.

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? no. never. will never, lol. the world doesn't deserve that, haha

51: Favourite food? my mom's lasagna, and pizza. also french bread with really good butter goes sooooo hard. and chocolate.

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? no. i believe in action and reaction. i do believe some things happen because destiny exists, but definitelyy not everything.

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? watched funny videos and played the times games with my husband whilst cuddling our kids, just like every night <3

54: Is cheating ever okay? Absolutely never. there's is never an excuse for disrespecting someone. all things can be done in kindness... even the hardest and most inconvenient things. grow up. be brave. take responsibility for yourself. don't be an a-hole. that's a young person's game.

55: Are you mean? as a default - no. when i feel extremely scared and threatened - i can be.

56: How many people have you fist fought? zero.

57: Do you believe in true love? 100%

58: Favourite weather? 68 degrees, by the ocean, wearing lots of layers, and hopefully it'll rain for part of the day <3

59: Do you like the snow? yes. but not driving in it. it scares me to death because of a situation that happened in 2023.... we literally almost died in a snowstorm. never again.

60: Do you wanna get married? i didn't, no. but then i met the right person, and it's been the best decision i ever made.

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? no. i don't think "babe" or "baby" are cute. it's infantilizing and uncomfy and lazy.

62: What makes you happy? more things than i could ever list, but the tops are my hubs, my kids, my niece, my friends, coffee, beach, movies, and gardening.

63: Would you change your name? no.

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? nope, i do it a thousand times a day :) or, i will again, when i'm better.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? have a very strange talk with them, cuz they're gay.

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? of course. i can fully be myself around ALL my friends. they wouldn't be my friends if i couldn't.

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? my husband. what are these questions? from an 11 year old? haha

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? my husband.

69: Do you believe in soulmates? no. but i do believe we're perfect for each other.

70: Is there anyone you would die for? i would die for most people <3

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[bullet-prooflove]

Swiftie: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @yousigned-upforthis @oklahomapeach @before-we-get-started @fadeinsol

Summary: Robby realises your baby might just be a Swiftie.

Companion piece to:

Lines - It’s been a long time since Robby’s been attracted to someone like this.

Lipstick (NSFW) - It's love at first blow job for Dr Robby.

Crisis - Robby has a bad day.

ASMR For The Soul - Robby doesn't sleep when you're not around.

Bunny - Robby discovers you've been keeping secrets.

Something To Complain About (NSFW) - You ignite the ire of Robby's neighbour with your bedroom noises.

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

Poolside - When Robby's had a really shitty day he always ends up whereever you are.

The Betting Pool - Robby discovers that his collegues have been taking bets on his relationship.

Fifty Shades of Robby - Robby's collegues see the truth of his relationship when they find your Instagram.

Dumb Bitch - Robby exhibits his protective side when another man steps on his territory.

Stop Compressions, Start Compressions - Robby loses everything in the aftermath of Pittfest.

24 Hours - Robby refuses to leave your side in the aftermath of the shooting.

Saftey Rail - Abbot gets real with Robby when he finds him on the roof.

Baby, It's Gonna Be Alright - Robby wonders if he's fucked things up with you for good.

Exorcism (NSFW) - Robby and you finally find a way to be honest with one another.

Ready - Robby and you discuss starting a family in the aftermath of Pittfest.

The Rose - You give Robby a special gift for your anniversary.

Heartbeat - Robby finds something to help him sleep.

Jinx - Robby discovers a particular superstition of yours.

The Scary One - Robby and you face concerns during your second pregnancy scan.

Pop Tarts - You and Robby decorate the baby's nursery.

Brave Little Boy - Robby wakes up to the baby kicking and gets a suprise.

Brown Eyed Boy - The birth of your son doesn’t quite go the way you’d planned.

One Week - Robby cares for the two of you one week after his son’s birth.

Seperation Anxiety - Robby gets severe seperation anxiety at the thought of returning to work after Noah's birth.

The baby likes dancing.

He likes being tucked in close to Robby’s body, feeling the rumble of daddy’s chest as he sings to the music. His tiny fists flail excitedly as Robby sways his hips to Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off in the kitchen.

“He’s definitely a Swiftie.” You say watching the two of them over your laptop at the kitchen table. “He’s gonna drag Papa kicking and screaming out of the Blues and right into mommy’s favourite genre Pop, just you watch.”

“You been working him while I’ve been at the hospital?” Robby asks you as Noah’s chubby fingers come to rest his lips. He kisses the tiny pads, making loud smooching noises as the baby scrunches his face up as if to laugh.  “Playing the Midnights album while he sleeps?”

“Trust me when you’re not here the only thing he does sleep to is folklore.” You inform Robby as you return your attention to the spreadsheet in front of you. “He really loves The Last Great American Dynasty, I think it might be the fact it tells you a story you know? You put that on and he just crashes out.”

“Have you seen what happens when you put on Bejeweled?” Robby asks you and you shake your head before pulling up your Spotify playlist to find the right album. “I’m telling you he loses his mind.”

He isn’t wrong. As soon as the opening bars start to play baby Noah’s chubby arms go up like he’s at a rave, and his feet kick out as if he’s doing the two step at a barn dance. Those delicate features of his light up like the Fourth of July, a smile appearing on his pursed lips.

“Holy shit Robby.” You erupt as the song hits the chorus. “He just smiled. He’s smiling right now.”

“What…” Robby tilts his head down to look at him and there’s his son beaming like the god damn moon, bouncing his tiny booty. “I can’t believe we made a Swiftie.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[tikitakatia]

Gotta Call ´Em Something — A. Putellas x Reader

WC: 1.2k

Summary: May the gay gods bless you, you don´t know how much longer you´ll last with these situations.

You’ve worked at FC Barcelona for six months now. That’s 182 days, 4,368 hours, and according to the deeply unscientific tally on Mapi’s whiteboard in the gym, over 300 separate attempts to flirt with Alexia Putellas. Which is, coincidentally, also how many times you’ve failed. Not because you’re bad at it.

No, you’re actually incredible at flirting. You’re practically built for it: the timing, the smirk, the voice drop. You flirt the way others breathe. But Alexia Putellas? She’s the final boss of obliviousness. The patron saint of “Wait, that was flirting?” You are practically on your knees with romantic, yearning desperation, and she still greets you with a casual “Holii” like you’re just another teammate asking if she wants more ice in her drink.

You’ve tried everything. Compliments, thoughtful little gifts, lingering touches during post-match massages. You once told her she looked like a renaissance painting and she responded with, “Which one?” and then sincerely asked if you meant “the one with the screaming man.” You didn’t even bother correcting her that The Scream is neither a renaissance painting nor flattering. You just stared at the wall behind her and whispered, “Yes.”

You’re not subtle. You’ve never been subtle. Subtle is for cowards. The first week you met, she said, “I’m always sore after leg day,” and you, clearly not in possession of your own soul, responded with, “Good thing I know how to use my hands.” She laughed. She thought it was funny. Friendly. You, on the other hand, went home and screamed into a pillow so loud your upstairs neighbor texted you to ask if someone had died.

Everyone else knows. Everyone. The entire locker room is involved. Mapi and Cata have a running commentary on your attempts, complete with odds and spreadsheets. They once made cards for it, Flirting Bingo. Square one was “offered to carry Alexia’s Louis Vuitton bag again.” The free space just said “blushes when she says your name.” Even Caro is in on it, and she has the emotional range of a house plant.  She walked past you once mid-flirt and muttered, “Dios mío, just flash her or something.”

Ona, who has the observational skills of a sniper, said it best after a particularly disastrous encounter in the cafeteria where you called Alexia mi sol and she asked if that was your new nickname for the coffee machine. Ona just leaned against the table, sipped her smoothie, and went, “I’ve seen snails crawl faster than Alexia takes to understand your flirting attempts.”

It’s become a locker room soap opera. You flirt. She blinks. You sigh. Mapi shouts. Pina eats popcorn. Keira places bets. And Alexia? Alexia just hums and asks if anyone wants more Prime. You are living in hell, and it’s got a very specific Catalan accent.

But you keep trying. Because you're nothing if not romantically deranged. You flirt harder. You bring her coffee. Offer massages you absolutely do not have time for. She compliments your hoodie and you offer to share it. She says you’re great with your hands, and you ask if she needs a demonstration. She moans during treatment, and you have to step out and splash cold water on your face.

And she never, ever gets it.

Until one fateful afternoon, after a training session, when you find yourselves alone in the physio room. She’s perched on the edge of the table, swinging her legs slightly, scrolling through her phone. Her hair’s damp from the shower, her cheeks flushed, and she’s still wearing your hoodie. (Yes. Still. It’s basically her hoodie now. You've given up.) The two of you are laughing about something dumb she said during rondos, probably involving a cone and you're feeling bold. Or desperate. Hard to say. It’s a fine line these days.

“So,” you say, trying to sound casual, “what do you think about pet names?”

She glances up, curious. “Like what kind of pet?”

You blink. “No, not actual pets. Like… babe. Baby. Amor. Cariño. You know. Terms of endearment.”

She hums, thoughtful. “I guess. I mean, you’ve got to call them something.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

She nods seriously. “Like… dog.”

You stare at her.

She stares back, deadpan.

“I used to call my pomeranian cariño all the time,” she adds, as if that clarifies things.

Somewhere in the distance, you’re certain Mapi has sensed a disturbance in the Force. You’re pretty sure Irene just dropped a protein shake. Possibly in slow motion.

You blink once, slowly. “Like… a person. Like if you’re dating someone.”

“Oh!” she says, like the thought has never occurred to her before.

“Well, yeah. I guess that’s cute.”

“You guess.”

She shrugs, entirely unaffected. “I mean, it’s not like I’d call my girlfriend dog.”

“Thank God,” you mutter under your breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

From outside the room, you hear Ona’s voice drifting in: “She needs subtitles, bro.”

You are going to cry. Or combust. Or kiss her. Or all three in quick succession. But before you can spiral further, Alexia looks up again and offers you one of those slow, sweet smiles that short-circuits your brain.

“Why?” she asks. “Do you use pet names?”

“I would,” you say, “if I had a reason to.”

She nods. “Makes sense.”

She nods. Like you’re discussing the weather. Like you’re not actively, aggressively pining for her with your whole chest.

Weeks later, something in you snaps. Possibly your dignity. Possibly your last functioning brain cell.

“I want to kiss you so bad sometimes I forget how to speak,” you blurt.

She looks up, smiling. “Your Spanish is always really good.”

You blink.

She blinks.

From the hallway, there’s a metallic thud. That’s probably Mapi walking into a wall. Or throwing herself at one.

Alexia frowns. “Wait… was that, did you mean that literally?”

Mapi bursts through the doorway like a human hurricane. “NO. No no no. You are NOT about to mess this up again. She’s been flirting with you for six months, Ale. SIX. MONTHS. She offered you her water bottle with eye contact. That’s practically second base.”

Alexia turns to you, stunned. “You’ve… been flirting with me?”

You just stare at her. “Yes. I’ve been flirting. Since February. I literally asked if you liked pet names and you said "like for a dog.”

Her mouth drops open. “Oh my god. I thought you were just… really friendly.”

“I am friendly,” you say. “But I’m also in love with you and I’ve aged three years trying to communicate that.”

She laughs, nervous and pink-cheeked, and takes a step closer. “So… you like me?”

“Yes.”

“Like… like-like?”

You blink. “I’m sorry, are we in middle school?”

She grins. “Okay. And you want to kiss me?”

You nod. “So badly I’ve considered creating a PowerPoint presentation about it.”

She looks down at her feet. Then back at you. Then she kisses you.

And just like that, the entire world shifts.

Her lips are soft, warm, slightly uncertain. You melt. Everything inside you goes still. Her hands find your hoodie, well, her hoodie, really, and tug you closer. You taste spearmint gum and 182 days of unresolved tension. You think, Oh. This is it.

When she pulls back, she’s breathless and smiling. “So… what do I call you now?”

Mapi groans from the doorway. “Don’t say dog, I swear to god.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

Wowza! You've been on a spree! Been loving all the content! Was wondering if you have any plans for Mr. Flavor? Mr. Flavor has become my favorite, and the latest update really cemented that for me. If not any ideas for core clusters? Either way may the Narwhal of inspiration continues to grace your presence!

Danny finds that his second kidnapping isn't as bad as the first. For one thing, Hoddie doesn't keep him locked up in one room. There are no chains, and he has a spacious bathroom and bedroom. They even provided him with a kitchen to cook his own meals, which is equipped with a lab, and is also available to him for his experimental pursuits or dietary needs whenever he chooses.

He's made about five carts of sodas- a dozen of each of these flavors- and he had the safety stored away to go sell on Monday at Anthony's Pasta.

On the other hand, Hoddie has assigned him two guards who are meant to stop Danny from "doing something stupid," such as eating his experimental flavors, jumping off the roof, or doing anything fun like holding his breath until he passes out. His guards had permission to spray him with a spray bottle, as if he were an untrained cat, should he attempt anything.

The worst part about all that was how well the spray bottle works. Hoddie had pulled it on him as a joke-or Danny thinks it was a joke-but the second the water touched his skin, his entire body withered in disgust.

He wound up on the ground, covering his face with his hands and thrashing around, muffling his screams with his palms. Hoddie had sprung into action, checking the bottle content and barking out orders to his men to get a medic, while carefully holding him down to stop his thrashing. There was a brief period when Hoddie thought he sprayed him with something else, but in the end, they were all able to confirm that it was just water, and that Danny just didn't like it.

Now the two guards, a couple of barely legal adults (nineteen years old, he thinks. A pair of newbies to whatever group Hoddie had going on), were stationed at his side, fiddling with the spray bottles like they were wielding weapons. Not that they lacked weapons.

Guns, Danny could see, were clipped to their belts, but he was far more fearful of the white bottles than seeing if being shot multiple times could get Phantom. The spray only made him feel discomfort, and not a hint of a ghost in return for the feeling.

"Don't even think about it," Snapped the redheaded man, whom Danny mentally titled Ginger.

"What's he doing now?" Sighed the other one with the long braid. Since the braid reached his mid-back and looked rather elegant in its silky black shine, Danny bestowed him the name Silk.

Ginger grabs Danny around his mid-drift, letting him off the crates he had been stacking to try to reach the window. It wasn't hard to see that he was in a basement, but the only exit was the stairway that Silk and Ginger stood on guard at, and the small window.

He dangles in Ginger's arms, miffed by how easily the slightly older boy can lift him. Danny has always been smaller than his peers, but it wasn't fair when he weighed like a box of air, too.

"I wasn't even doing anything," He grumbles as Ginger carries him to the couch to practically throw him into the cushions. Danny crosses his arms, scowling at the coffee table. Its surface is covered with various notes and test tubes for his latest flavor experiment, as well as some kind of toy that Hoddie called Kinetic Sand.

Hoddie gave him a bucket and some farm-shaped molds for "enrichment" while the house breaker went to do whatever the hell he was doing to keep Danny safe.

Danny hated how much he enjoyed sticking his hands in it.

"Look, kid, we know it's not fun to wait for Boss to do his thing, but we have to be patient in life." Started Silk, sounding far too much like a tired Jazz back when their parents were first beginning to let her babysit him for a few hours while they ran to the store. Danny doesn't remember how, but the chicken had come to life that day, and she had to fight it off with a broom. Good times.

"I'm not a kid. I'm seventeen."

"Practically a baby," Silk agrees with a nod, causing Ginger to snort.

Ice gathered on the back of Danny's knuckles. "What did you say?"

Silk raises his spray bottle, holding it in both his hands like he were aiming a gun. It's pointed right at Danny's face, between his eyes, and Silk's fingers rest on the trigger, ready to take the shot. "Be cool, kid."

Alarmed, Phantom's small ice vanishes, and Danny goes very still, holding up his arms. He licks his dry lips, eyeing the small hole that rests inside the tip of the spray. "I'm cool! We're cool! Everyone is cool! No need for violence, you know?"

Ginger hums, "Not if we all behave."

He comes up behind Silk, twirling his bottle so Danny can hear the horrid sound of the water sliding side to side in it. His heart dropped in his stomach. Carefully, telegraphing his every moment, Danny lowers himself to the floor, reaching for the sand and the cow mold. Silk's eyes narrow before he, too, lowers his hands.

"Glad we understand each other."

"I'd rather you shoot me," Danny mutters, piling purple fake sand- it feels artificial somehow, or maybe it was natural in this world dimension- into the mold, patting it down.

"I rather not piss off Boss. That's a man you don't want to cross."

"A Man." Danny lowers his voice, referencing an old TV commercial from home, "A manly man who mans his way through the manly woods of manhood."

Ginger and Silk shared an odd look between them before Ginger reached up and rubbed at his eyes. "You ain't right in the head, boyo."

"Oh yeah? Well, you're attractive! Leave some women for the rest of us." Danny hisses, pointing an accusing finger at Ginger. The man's face turned as red as his ruby locks while Silk snickered after a moment of confusion.

"I-"

Whatever Ginger was going to say is cut off by a loud crash. The three whip around to find the basement window had been smashed in. On the ground is broken glass, shimmering in the sunlight of freedom.

Oh, and there was also a silver cylinder, letting out a thick cloud of black smoke. The cloud of smoke fills the room at an almost inspiring speed, as it leaks out of its vessel, causing the cylinder to spin in circles from the force of its escape.

"Shit! We're under attack!" Silk cries, leaping to his feet. "

The door at the top of the stairway is kicked open, and three other cylinders go flying, landing at Danny's feet. His eyes widen, realizing that one is smaller than the rest, and he can only conclude it's a bomb.

"Gernande!" Danny cries joyfully, throwing his body on top of it. "I call dibs!"

"No!" Ginger screams, nearly smothered by the smoke that now covers the room in a deep darkness. "Kid! "

Dany spreads as much of himself as he can on it, counting the seconds before a soft boom goes under his stomach and a brief but intense bright light blooms around him, like an added chalk outline. He waits for a few seconds, but when nothing else happens, he sighs, standing up. "False alarm, it was just a flash bomb-"

"You son of bitches! You killed him!" Ginger yells from the direction of the bathroom, which was clear across the room, and Silk lets out a choking snarl from a different part of the room, but just as far away. Did they move? It would make sense to get away from the smoke and the potential grenade-

Bam!

Danny jerks backwards, letting out a gasp as his chest suddenly burns in agony. A hand shakily goes up to cup around the pain, only to realize his shirt is wet, and he doesn't remember getting sprayed. "Wha-"

Bam bam bam!

Danny's knees go out, and he's crumbling to the ground, a savage scream ripped from his throat, as suddenly his stomach, his right arm, and his shoulder are nothing but pain. His yell echoes through the room, overlapping the sound of something sharp being thrown through the air and fists hitting skin. He thinks he hears Silk cry out, but he can't make heads or tails of what's happening, too busy choking on his blood.

He shakes on the ground, doing everything he can to drag himself across the floor. Phantom has not stirred from inside him, nor has that part of himself sent out ice to seal the wounds. Not even his healing factor has started to numb the worst of the pain.

He has been shot as a very human Danny, and now, he may suffer the consequences of being human.

"No! No, no, no, no, not again." A voice sobs near Danny's head, before someone pushes him onto his back, pressing their hands over his wounds. Danny groans in pain.

"Hang on, kid. Hang on.!" Danny squints through unfocused eyes, looking into the face of a panicked man in a blue and black mask. His lip is bitten through and his odd costume of spandex is covered in Danny's blood. He must have passed out or something, because the smoke is gone, leaving a clear view of a basement torn apart, as if a wild boar had smashed through everything.

Hoddie stands over the stranger's shoulder, his hood down and his weird metal face covering the only thing keeping his face out of sight as he yanks bandages out of his many pant pockets.

A little further away, he can make out Silk with his head turned away in shame and Ginger weeping openly. Another two people are there: a kid in a hoodie and a sword, barking commands into a phone, while the one with an X across his chest stares back at Danny in mute horror.

He can't see his eyes through the mask, but Danny bets there are tears in them. There is a moment where he flounces out of his body, every sound slowed and muffled like he's not really part of the scene anymore. Danny can only hear his own heartbeat, slowing down, as the world starts to fade.

Danny almost gives in to the calming nothing before a sharp snap happens around his heart, near his core, and his healing factor boots online. The pain in his stomach lessens, and even the pain under the Blue Man's frantic hands that are trying to put pressure on his chest wound.

All of it, is getting attention from his healing factor at a speed he's missed. Phantom....he's so close. Danny is all but touching him.

It's enough to yank him back into his body's awareness, which can all be summarized to ow currently.

He giggles, accidentally causing a few spots of blood to land on Blue Man's face. "Deja vu...Am I right?....first the car....then the gun shot....and then comes a baby in a baby carriage."

"Don't talk! Save your strength!" The masked man chokes

Danny smiles, "I'm dying....."

"No." The voice is so choked up it sounds like gravel now. Danny can barely understand him. His body is starting to turn cold...like ice was racing through Danny's veins freezing him from he inside out.

"My... soda...."

"It's alright." Hoddie shushed him, grabbing his hand and holding it tight. His other hand went through Danny's hair in a comforting manner. "You're soda is safe. It's alright."

"I'm....dying..."Danny repeats his smile, stretching wider as the world starts to rapidly fade. His healing factor is still active beneath his skin, but it's not moving fast enough. It was almost a bee trying desperately to pollinate a flower bed before a flood crashed into the garden.

Hoodie's breath catches, sounding odd in his voice modifier, but he responds evenly. "It's alright. You're going to be alright. We're going to have some of your pumpkin pie flavor soda after this, yeah?"

"Re...all...y?" Danny coughs

"Yeah, kid, it 's going to taste delicious," Hoddie whispers comfrotingly. The hand in Danny's hair goes slower, almost as if it were trying to make him sleep. "The best damn thing I ever drink"

"What...ab...out....the other...on..e"

"All of them. If it's a Mr.Flavor soda, it's going to be the best drink to ever be created."

"Thank....you....for say...ing...th..a..t" Danny feels himself slip away entirely as the light in his eyes dims, and he goes slack.

_____________________________________________________

Nightwing feels the moment the boy dies, more than he sees it, and he can't do anything but let out a wail. Red Hood stops canning his fingers through the boy's dark locks to gently lower his eyelids close.

The boy's face, seventeen but still too young-looking, that most thought he was lying about his age, as he had always suspected the tiny thing to be closer to fourteen, looks gentle, almost sweet in its stillness. As if he merely fell asleep, were it not for the trail of blood running down his chin and on his clothes.

It was an accident. Nigwing, Robin, and Red Robin didn't know that the two men with the kid making threats were talking about a water spray or that they worked for Red Hood.

Red Hood and his two new gang members weren't aware that the Bats were searching for a meta who had just escaped a kidnapping and a hospital that same day. They just thought the kid got away from a meta trafficking ring that tracked them down to a safe house.

In the confusion, the two fired their guns in the direction of the intruders, unaware that the kid was standing in the middle. No one knows whose bullets landed, but no one really cares.

Red Hood gathers Nightwing into his arms, knowing the man needed his comfort now.

In the hollow silence that is only interrupted by Nightwings' cries, the six males are left staying at the body of Gotham's oddest little soda maker, who arrived without warning to Gotham and left it just as fast.

Five minutes go by before Robin takes a step towards. "We should call emergency services."

"I-"

Whatever Nightwing was going to say is cut off by two bright rings of light that burst to life around Mr. Flavor's corpse. They spread over the body, transforming it, until bright neon green eyes snap open and Mr. Flavor's voice rings through the shock silence.

"I live! Ma ha ha ha ha!"

[thedensworld]

Around | L.Jh

Pairing: Dad Jihoon!l x reader

Genre: Parents Au!

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 2k

Preview: He just wants to be around his baby daughter.

Jihoon had just returned from the company studio, the sound of the front door clicking shut echoing softly in the quiet house. Work had dragged him out for only three hours, but even that short span had drained the last bit of his energy—thanks to the excitable rookie group he was co-producing with Seungcheol. As he stepped out of his shoes with a heavy sigh, he muttered under his breath, “Finally,” shoulders slumping with relief.

All he wanted now was to melt into the warmth of home—into your embrace and the soft coos of Jiyoo, the three-month-old bundle of joy who had turned his world upside down in the best way possible.

He still remembered when he told his friends that the two of you were expecting. The teasing was instant and merciless.

“It’ll be hilarious if it’s a girl,” Seungcheol had said, barely holding in his laughter. “Imagine Jihoon—tough, stone-faced Jihoon—wrapped around tiny fingers.”

Soonyoung, ever the dramatic one, had rolled onto the studio floor laughing, arms flailing. “He’s going down so bad! I’m telling you. It’s over for him!” he cried, pointing at Jihoon, who sat slouched in a studio chair, face buried in his hands.

Because the thing was—Jihoon already knew. You were having a girl.

When he confirmed it to them, they cracked. Full-blown chaos.

“I give it three months before he stops coming to the studio entirely,” Soonyoung predicted, eyes glinting with mischief.

Seungcheol nodded with conviction. “His e-commerce order history is going to be 90% plushies. Just wait.”

They weren’t entirely wrong.

He was already skipping lunch breaks just to see her gummy smile on video call. Already bookmarking the cutest pastel onesies. Already googling how to braid hair for beginners. Jihoon—the same Jihoon who once said he didn’t like distractions—was falling fast and hard for his daughter.

But as he entered the house, it was only silence that greeted him.

No soft humming from the kitchen, no gentle lullabies or rustling baby blankets. Just the hush of a home deep in rest. Jihoon’s steps slowed as he rounded the corner into the living room—and then his breath caught at the sight before him.

You were fast asleep on the couch, one arm curled under your head, your other hand resting gently over your belly. And on top of your chest, sprawled like he owned the world, was Dungi—his plump body rising and falling with your every breath, paws tucked under and tail lazily flicking now and then. His ears twitched at the sound of Jihoon’s arrival but he didn’t budge, too comfortable to care.

Just below, in her soft bouncer, was little Jiyoo—also asleep, her tiny fists balled up beside her cheeks, one foot sticking out from under her pastel blanket. Her lips moved now and then in what might’ve been a dream-fed pout, and the faintest snore escaped her delicate nose.

Jihoon blinked once, slowly.

This, he thought, is it.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t dare disturb the fragile beauty of this moment. Instead, he quietly pulled out his phone, crouched low, and angled the camera to capture it all—his two girls and their ridiculous, spoiled cat.

Click.

He stared at the photo for a second longer than necessary, already knowing it would become a favorite. Probably end up framed on his desk. Maybe even his phone lock screen.

Still crouched on the floor, he whispered under his breath with a grin, “Yeah, I’m doomed.”

Then, just for good measure, he took one more photo—this time zooming in slightly to catch the way Jiyoo’s little sock had half-fallen off, and how Dungi’s paw was gently pressed against your shoulder like he was claiming you.

Jihoon stood up quietly, then tiptoed into the kitchen. He’d make dinner later. For now, maybe just snacks for you, and prepare a bottle—because he had a feeling Jiyoo would be up soon, and when she was, so would the house.

Jihoon was in the kitchen, carefully preparing a warm bottle of milk for Jiyoo when a soft coo echoed through the quiet house. He paused, listening. A second later, the sound turned into a gentle cry, followed by your voice, groggy but soothing.

"I'm here, baby. Eomma’s here,” you whispered, your voice the softest lullaby.

Jihoon smiled to himself, his heart doing that quiet little flip it always did whenever he heard you talk to your daughter like that—with endless tenderness and love, even in the middle of exhaustion. He grabbed the bottle, along with a small plate of cut fruit and your favorite crackers, and made his way back to the living room.

You were now sitting upright on the couch, Jiyoo nestled in your arms, blinking up at you with sleepy eyes and tiny fists curled against your chest. You looked up when you heard Jihoon's steps and blinked in surprise.

“I thought you were going to stay at the studio until night,” you said, brushing your hand gently over Jiyoo’s tuft of soft hair.

Jihoon placed the snacks on the coffee table and handed you the bottle with a soft smile. “Nope,” he said, shaking his head as he sat beside you. “I missed you and Jiyoo.”

His voice was low, warm, laced with sincerity. He reached out and gently traced a finger along Jiyoo’s chubby cheek, smiling as she let out a tiny sigh and latched onto the bottle.

Just then, a quiet meow interrupted the moment—Dungi had awakened too. The cat stretched long and slow, then casually padded over before jumping onto Jihoon’s lap, circling once before settling down with a content purr.

Jihoon chuckled. “And you too, bud,” he murmured, scratching behind Dungi’s ear.

With one arm, he reached for the plate of fruit and held up a piece to your lips. “Eat a little,” he said gently.

You took the bite with a sleepy smile, chewing slowly. “I haven’t even fully woken up yet,” you mumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder with a soft chuckle.

Jihoon let out a low hum and shifted, wrapping one arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer into his side. You melted into the warmth, while Jiyoo continued feeding peacefully in your arms, and Dungi curled tighter into Jihoon’s lap, a lazy king on his throne.

“Seungcheol mentioned something today,” Jihoon said softly, a little laugh slipping out. “He was surprised I actually went to the company studio after so long.”

You chuckled, brushing your fingers gently across Jiyoo’s tiny shoulder as she continued to feed. “I told you,” you murmured. “He might not say much, but he hopes you’ll show up sometimes. He misses working with you in person.”

Jihoon let out a low groan, tilting his head back against the couch. “Ugh, too lazy,” he muttered, a half-smile on his lips.

You smiled knowingly. “He just wants your company, Jihoon.”

He turned to glance at you and then down at Jiyoo, a softness blooming in his eyes. “Yeah, well… there’s no you or Jiyoo there.”

You hummed, rocking Jiyoo slightly in your arms, her eyelids fluttering halfway between sleep and dream. “I know. You just want to be around her all the time, don’t you?”

Jihoon didn’t even try to hide it—he smirked, leaning closer to get a better look at his daughter’s face. “Yeah… I just want to be around you and her. It’s peaceful. Safe. Why would I trade this for Seungcheol-hyung and his constant nagging?”

As if on cue, Jiyoo stopped drinking, her tiny lips releasing the bottle with a soft pop. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, and then her eyes locked onto Jihoon. A gummy smile formed on her face, and she let out a soft coo—like she’d been waiting for him to speak all along.

Both your hearts melted in an instant.

Jihoon reached out instinctively. “I’ll watch her, baby. You go rest,” he offered, gently taking Jiyoo into his arms with the kind of practiced tenderness that only came with deep love.

You stood up slowly, stretching and tying your hair back into a loose bun, watching him with an amused smirk. He was already whispering to her, nose-to-nose, talking in a soft, playful voice like she was the only person who mattered in the world.

“You just want to be around her, right?” you teased, hands on your hips.

Jihoon looked up at you briefly and nodded with zero hesitation. “I love being around her,” he said simply, then looked back down at Jiyoo with a grin. “Don’t I, princess?”

Jiyoo gurgled in response, flailing one tiny fist and catching hold of his finger. Jihoon’s chest tightened at the touch.

From the hallway, you turned to glance back at them, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of the man you loved completely enchanted by the daughter you made together.

You knew he was gone for her. And honestly, you didn’t mind—because you were too.

*

“She’s gonna cry—SHE’S GONNA CRY!”

Seungcheol’s voice cracked an octave higher as he awkwardly cradled Jiyoo in the crook of his arm. The three-month-old blinked up at him with a wobbly pout, her tiny fingers flailing. He looked absolutely terrified.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t—oh no, don’t do the lip thing—Jihoon!” he half-whispered, half-yelled.

But Jihoon wasn’t even paying attention. Headphones on, locked into producer mode, he was laser-focused on Soonyoung, who stood in the booth, waiting for the cue.

Meanwhile, Seungcheol was bouncing, swaying, and humming a random melody in a panicked attempt to keep Jiyoo calm. His face was red. Sweat dotted his temples. The baby was slipping.

It was supposed to be a quick grocery run for you. Earlier, you hesitated at the door, bag in hand, guilt pressing lightly on your chest as you looked back toward Jihoon, who was prepping his home studio for a recording session.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you asked, shifting your weight. “I can take her with me if it’s too much—”

Jihoon was already crossing the room with outstretched arms. “That’s fine, baby. I got her,” he said, lifting Jiyoo from your arms with ease. The second her eyes met her father’s, she let out an excited babble and kicked her legs, clearly thrilled by the transfer.

Jihoon grinned. “Drive safely, okay? Jiyoo and I will have fun with uncles.”

You smiled, still slightly unsure, but his confidence—and Jiyoo’s happy cooing—put you at ease. “Alright… call me if she gets fussy.”

And with that, you slipped out, unaware of the mild chaos that would soon unfold.

About fifteen minutes into vocal directing Soonyoung’s part, Jihoon was fully in producer mode—headphones on, eyes narrowed at the audio interface, deep in concentration.

Meanwhile, Seungcheol stood nearby with Jiyoo awkwardly cradled in his arms. She had been content for the first few minutes, but now her lower lip was beginning to tremble. Her eyes widened, face scrunching.

Soonyoung noticed it first. “Hyung, no, no, no! Don’t make her cry!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Seungcheol hissed, panic creeping into his voice as he gently bounced her. “I don’t know how to handle this… tiny thing!”

“She’s my daughter!” Jihoon cut in from the other side of the room, pulling off his headphones, offended as if Seungcheol had just insulted his whole bloodline. “Don’t call her a thing!”

This from the same Jihoon who was once rumored—falsely, according to him—to wear pink panties only. Yet somehow, this insult hit harder.

Soonyoung let out an exaggerated groan. “We have to retake that part now! I was doing so well until you started stressing the baby!”

Seungcheol bounced her again, frantic. “I told you this was a bad idea! We should be recording at the company studio, not here!”

But Jihoon immediately shook his head like a child refusing vegetables. “No. Nope. No way. I’m not leaving my daughter behind. You two can go if you want—but I won’t.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking every bit the overprotective father, biceps flexing beneath his loose t-shirt. Seungcheol groaned dramatically and turned slightly to avoid Jiyoo’s intense, about-to-cry gaze.

Soonyoung continued nagging from the booth, adjusting his mic, “Hyung, rock her, not freeze like a statue! She’s not a bomb!”

“Feels like one,” Seungcheol muttered under his breath.

Jihoon walked over, scooped Jiyoo effortlessly from Seungcheol’s arms, and held her to his chest. She immediately calmed, letting out a soft sigh as she buried her face into his shoulder.

Jihoon patted her back and smirked smugly. “See? She knows who her favorite is.”

Seungcheol slumped into a chair, hands dragging down his face. “Yeah, well… I just got out-parented by you in two seconds.”

“Damn right,” Jihoon said, placing a gentle kiss on top of Jiyoo’s head before nodding at Soonyoung. “Now, can we please finish your part before she needs a diaper change?”

Soonyoung snorted and slipped on his headphones. “Sure, but only if Seungcheol promises not to breathe in her direction this time.”

Jihoon chuckled quietly, rocking Jiyoo in his arms as the recording resumed. It wasn’t the most conventional setup—but somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

The end.

[ccupcakqs]

— quiet isn't weakness ౨ৎ✧˚

warnings: slow emotional tension, confrontation but not violence

pairing: kimi antonelli x protective female reader

a/n: protective reader is my roman empire, request!

kimi’s always drawn attention without trying to.

he doesn’t speak unless he means it. doesn’t smile unless it’s real. doesn’t perform for cameras the way some of the older drivers do. he’s steady. thoughtful. hard to read if you don’t know him — and most people don’t.

but you do.

you know the way he listens carefully before he speaks. how he notices everything in a room before he picks where to stand. how he keeps his hands in his pockets because people stop staring at them when they can’t see them tremble. how he gets a little quieter when he’s overwhelmed, like the world takes up too much space in his chest and the only way to breathe is to shrink.

he doesn’t tell people that. he just handles it. he doesn’t ask for help.

but you’ve never waited to be asked.

and tonight is no different.

you’re already irritated before the man even opens his mouth.

something about the sponsor dinner feels heavier than usual. too many eyes. too many conversations you don’t want to be part of. kimi’s not great at these things, and he’s been tense since the moment you arrived — stiffer in his suit, quieter than normal, eyes darting a little too quickly between faces he doesn’t want to talk to.

you stayed close. like you always do. fingertips brushing his sleeve every few minutes. hand on his back as you leaned into conversations for him when he couldn’t bring himself to say more than a few words.

he’d said thank you once, just under his breath.

you hadn’t answered. you’d just squeezed his hand.

the man shows up at your table about an hour in. someone from motorsport media. you don’t remember his name, but you’ve seen him around. one of those guys who talks too much and listens too little. he looks at kimi like he’s an answer to a question he didn’t ask, and then turns to you like you’re more useful somehow.

you already don’t like the way he stands too close.

but then he says it.

“so, does it ever get tiring?” he asks, like it’s casual. like it’s small talk. “you know, always being the one carrying the energy in this relationship?”

you blink.

he keeps going, amused with himself.

“i mean, he’s great on track, obviously. but he’s not exactly a crowd favorite, is he? not the most charming. i always wonder how a guy like that gets someone like you.”

you stare at him.

kimi stiffens beside you.

you feel it instantly — the way his back straightens, the way he stops breathing for half a second too long. he doesn’t look at the man. he just lowers his gaze to the floor, hands tucked away so tightly in his pockets you worry he’s digging his nails into his palms.

you step forward, slowly.

the man doesn’t notice at first. he’s laughing to himself, clearly proud of his joke.

you wait.

and then you speak.

“do you enjoy talking like that in public,” you say, voice low and clear, “or do you just assume no one’s ever going to call you out?”

the man blinks. “sorry?”

“you should be,” you say. “you’re not being clever. you’re not being insightful. you’re being cruel. and you’re pretending it’s charm.”

his smile falters. “look, i didn’t mean anything by it—”

“you did,” you say, stepping in front of kimi now. “you meant to undermine him. you meant to put him in a box that makes you feel smarter. and you meant to do it with an audience.”

you don’t raise your voice. you don’t need to. the people around you have gone quiet.

kimi still hasn’t said anything.

you glance back at him for a second. he’s looking down, jaw tight. his eyes flick up when you reach for his hand, and he lets you take it.

“kimi doesn’t owe you charisma,” you say, turning back to the man. “he doesn’t owe you banter or charm or media clips you can sell as stories. he shows up. he works harder than anyone in this room. he risks his life every time he gets in that car. and he does it without needing to be loud about it.”

you pause.

then softer, like a truth you’ve carried for a long time,

“he’s not invisible. you’re just not looking properly.”

the man swallows.

you let the silence stretch.

then you nod politely, still holding kimi’s hand, and walk away.

you find the quietest spot on the balcony, away from the crowd, the music, the low buzz of conversations that now feel a little too sharp. kimi doesn’t say anything for the first few minutes. he just stands next to you, watching the city lights flicker below, fingers still laced with yours.

you glance at him sideways.

he looks tired. and not the kind that sleep can fix.

“sorry,” you say softly. “i know you don’t like scenes.”

he shakes his head. “you didn’t make a scene.”

“still,” you say. “i just couldn’t let it go.”

kimi finally turns to look at you. really look.

his eyes are soft. serious.

“no one’s ever done that for me before.”

you let out a breath. “that’s messed up.”

he smiles. small. but real.

“you didn’t have to.”

you shrug. “i didn’t think about it. i just… saw your face. and it pissed me off.”

he nods.

“thank you,” he says again.

“don’t thank me,” you whisper. “i’m always going to stand up for you. even when you don’t.”

his gaze dips. “i wish i could say something back. when people talk like that.”

you tighten your grip on his hand. “you don’t have to. not when i’m around.”

there’s a long pause.

and then, so quiet you almost miss it:

“it made me feel seen.”

your chest aches.

you lean forward and press your forehead to his shoulder.

he wraps his arm around your back, holds you there for a long time. like he’s anchoring himself to you. like maybe, just maybe, your voice can drown out the parts of his mind that still believe the things people say.

and when he finally pulls back, his eyes are clearer.

“you’re dangerous,” he says, not unkindly.

you smile. “only for people who try to hurt you.”

© ccupcakqs. all work written by me. DO NOT PLAGIARISE!

[mischievousmoony]

Could you write more perv james things? That uncovered something i think.

oh yeah i can. this might be way too similar a concept to steamy fantasies but idc. anyway this would take place before steamy fantasies but that will also have a direct pt 2 but i’m having a hard time with smutty dialogue?

𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎𝚜

⟢ pairing: perv!roommate!james potter x fem!reader ⟢ summary: you left your door ajar on your way out, and james can't resist the temptation ⊹ 627 ⟢ contains: smut mdni, jerking off, james is ashamed about his actions, he's still like an obsessive weirdo in a hot way?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

He really shouldn’t be in here.

But you left your door ajar. In a rush, almost late to dinner with your friends. Dinner with your friends, which always takes hours. Plenty of time, an evil voice reminds him.

At first, he only walked by a few times. Pacing, really, just to inhale the aroma that wafted into the hallway. The scented candle you had been burning. The perfume you spritzed on just before you left.

When he dared to go inside, he told himself that his intentions were innocent. He’s never been inside your room when you weren’t there before. He just wants to have a look around.

He took time admiring all of your little keepsakes, tracing their edges with his fingertips, fascinated by what they might tell him about you. The concert tickets and photo booth strips tucked into the frame of your mirror, a little snow globe that looks old enough to be from your childhood, a stack of cards from years of birthdays—you’re the sentimental type.

Knowing that, seeing what memories you favor makes him feel closer to you. He can’t wait until your room is filled with reminders of him once he finally becomes yours. Ticket stubs from dates he’ll take you on, trinkets he’ll gift you, photos of the two of you together.

He got himself into trouble when he started opening your drawers, finding the one with your panties. All tossed in carelessly. His cock hardens instantly, and he doesn’t think twice when he picks up a pretty pink pair and presses them to his nose. He moans into them.

He tucks them into his pocket and closes the drawer. His head is spinning, and he backs up until the back of his knees hit your bed, collapsing down onto your mattress to catch his breath.

Sitting on your bed was a mistake.

It’s unmade, soft sheets rumpled and clearly slept in. His thoughts spiral, wondering what you wear to bed. He knows you like the lounge around the flat in a t-shirt and cute little shorts. Maybe you lose the shorts in the privacy of your bedroom, sleeping in just your panties like the ones burning a hole in his pocket. Maybe you sleep bare, letting the cool fabric caress your smooth skin.

Before he knows it, he’s slipping his hand into his trousers. His hand moves slowly at first, but it quickly becomes frantic, his grip tightening and releasing in uneven bursts, working himself to the edge embarrassingly fast.

Depraved noises reverberate in his throat. His free hand reaches desperately for something to hold on to and his fist closes around your pillow, which he brings to his face. It smells strongly of you and he imagines burying his nose into your hair instead as he muffles his pathetic, broken noises with the plush pillow.

He’s rough with himself, more out of frustration than anything else, knuckles white as he fights the shame burning in his chest. Shame for being in your room like this. For touching things that don’t belong to him. For knowing you trust him. You sweet, beautiful, brilliant thing. And yet, here he is, rutting into his own fist with your pillow pressed to his face, acting like he has any right to you at all.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m sorry,” he croaks like it might somehow absolve him as his release crashes over him. Whining your name into the pillow, warmth floods his boxers as he spills into them.

He whimpers softly, hugging the pillow to his face, still, as he comes down from his high.

He’s completely ruined by you, and you’ve never even touched him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[straylightdream]

beg for you

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kim mingyu x afb.reader x jeon wonwoo

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: coming soon for Wonwoo’s birthday

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, smut with a little plot, smut, roommates to lovers

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: teaser 980 full story 5k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cussing

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex and protected sex (mc is on birth control), soft dom wonwoo and mingyu, wonwoo is in charge even while the mc is with mingyu, voyerism, readers hands are bound, begging, cock drunk reader, use of lube, big dick wonwoo and even bigger dick mingyu, pussy streching, multiple positions, oral (female rec), hand job, fingering, pussy whipped mingyu, p in v intercourse, threesome, breast worship, nipple play, nicknames: Princess, good girl, baby (hers) baby (wonwoo)

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

- PREVIEW -

You know when this day started you thought it was just going to be a normal Saturday. For once you finally got to sleep in. You were starting your day by having a cup of coffee and cooked yourself some bacon and eggs.

Sitting at the kitchen table in the little nook by the window, you scroll through your phone aimlessly. Wonwoo is sitting across from you working on his laptop and enjoying his favorite morning beverage, an americano.

Mingyu is nowhere to be seen. You assume your other roommate took an early morning trip to the gym. Him and Seungcheol often like meeting to work out.

The front door opens and sure enough, in walks Mingyu. He’s dressed in those god forsaken sweatpants he’s been wearing too often. The whole time you have lived with the two boys you have tried your hardest not to catch feelings for either of the boys. You thought you were doing a good job. Wonwoo and you were best friends and you knew you worked well as friends. Mingyu on the other hand was more of a problem. In recent months him and his wonderful grey sweatpants have been hunting your horny dream. This man is a giant and you can’t help but imagine, every part of him is huge. The issue is, his sweatpants do nothing to hide how big he is down below. Closing your eyes you tried to push away your indecent thoughts.

Mingyu walks over to the table almost frantically. He says your name, and you glance up at him. “Opinions on being tied to the bed?” You almost choke on your coffee. Mingyu decided to ask you this very blunt question out of nowhere. Wonwoo lets out a laugh looking up from his laptop. In the whole two years you have lived together you and Mingyu haven’t really spoken about your sex lives. Sure you and Wonwoo have talked about things of this nature. But Mingyu has always liked to keep this part of his life private. The whole time you have lived together he only brought one girl home, and oh god was she loud. Luckily your bedroom is near the kitchen. Wonwoo has the unfortunate luck of sharing a bedroom wall with Mingyu. This girl was so loud Wonwoo’s noise canceling headphones didn’t even help. About an hour into Mingyu's little sexual encounter, Wonwoo came to your room to sleep to attempt to escape the noise.

“Maybe, hello how are you? Or even I have a wild question I would like to ask?” Sitting your coffee down on the table.

“Hello my dear roommate. How are you?” He literally doesn’t even give you a second to answer. “Now, what do you think about being tied to the bed?” He’s calmed down, maybe a little, but not much.

“Like during sex?” Wonwoo lets out a snicker at your question.

“Obviously during sex.” Mingyu responses.

“Gyu why are you being weird?” Wonwoo closes his laptop.

“Cheol said I’m vanilla.” Bingo, we have a winner. Of course this conversation is all because of Seungcheol. Seungcheol and his god damn big mouth once again is causing chaos in your life. This is the same man that once had you jump into a pool naked to prove a point.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re asking our sweet roommate about being tied to a bed.”

“Cheol said girls normally like it when a man takes control.” Well it seems like Seungcheol has frazzled Mingyu, and now he’s a rambling mess. Next time you see Seungcheol you’re definitely going to yell at him. “He was telling me all about his girl he had sex with and tied to his bed. According to him she was crying and begging him to go harder.”

“Why are you listening to Cheol?” Wonwoo knows all too well that Seungcheol knows how to run his mouth.

“I don’t know.” He sighs, pulling out the chair and sitting down between you and Wonwoo.

“Have you ever had a girl complain?” Wonwoo has fully stepped into the conversation. You’re left silent, still in shock this conversation is even happening.

“No.” He sounds defeated.

“Dude, not all girls like to be dominated.” Wonwoo responded.

“Are you dominant in bed?”

Wonwoo sighs and leans back. “I wouldn’t say I’m a hard dom or anything like that. But I’m in charge in bed.” You definitely didn’t expect your breakfast conversation to consist of learning more about Wonwoo’s sex life.

“What about you did you want to be dominated?” Mingyu turns his attention back to you.

“I don’t want to be fully dominated or anything like that, but—“ You pause, you aren’t exactly sure how much of your sex life you want to share. “I like when whoever I’m with is in control.”

“Is our sweet girl a pillow princess?” Wonwoo is wearing a wicked grin. His words do something to you.

“I’m not a full blown pillow princess, but I like when a man is in control.”

The room feels suffocatingly small suddenly. You can feel Mingyu’s eyes burning into you. Your eyes haven’t left Wonwoo’s. Even behind his glasses you can feel him almost undressing you with his eyes.

“Maybe _____ can let you test out being in charge?” Wonwoo speaks, finally breaking the screaming loud silence.

“Wonwoo?” You say his name not even sure what you want to say. This whole situation feels crazy.

“What?” He tilts his head giving you a smirk.

Glancing over at Mingyu you see him blushing. It’s clear he definitely didn’t see the conversation going this way.

[stlllle]

Stray Kids Headcanons — How They Act When They Miss You

Pairing: OT8 x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Soft Angsty Moments, Domestic Boyfriend Energy

Warnings: None, just pure soft chaos, mentions of longing, teasing and clingy boyfriends.

Author’s Note: Hey, angels 🖤! I’ve been cooking this headcanon for a while because let’s be honest — the Stray Kids are totally the type to miss their partner in the most ridiculous, cute and chaotic ways

If you like it and want to request something, feel free to! My requests are open 🙂 --

Masterlist –[link]

If you enjoy it, leave a comment or reblog, it means the world to me 🖤✨

Bang Chan — Habits he has when he misses you

---

Constantly checking his phone just to see if you’re online

Chan’s not usually clingy over text — in fact, he always tries to respect your space and not be that boyfriend. But when he misses you, he keeps unlocking his phone every two minutes to check if you’re online on KakaoTalk or Instagram.

Not even to text you — because he knows if he does, he’ll give away just how much he’s craving you, and Chris has this weird habit of pretending he’s got it under control.

His phone becomes an extension of his hand when you take too long to reply. Even when he’s in a meeting, he’ll sneak a glance just to see if your name pops up.

“Ugh… not even a story today?” he mumbles under his breath, shoving the phone back in his pocket — only to pull it out again twenty seconds later.

---

Looping the same song that reminds him of you

Bang Chan has this habit of connecting songs to people, and you have your own private playlist on his Spotify.

Whenever he misses you, he puts that one particular track that reminds him of you on repeat. It might be the first song you ever shared, or one you swore he didn’t like but secretly added to his saved list.

He listens to it while training, driving, or lying in bed.

If it gets really bad, he’ll lay down on the studio couch, hood pulled over his face, and just let the song play on loop.

“Why the hell did I let myself fall this hard, huh…” he whispers with a soft, defeated grin.

---

Hugging anything that smells like you

A hoodie you left behind, a T-shirt you wore at a sleepover, the pillowcase from his bed — when he misses you, he instinctively clings to anything that still has your scent on it.

It’s unconscious. He’ll grab the hoodie while lying down and only realize what he’s doing when someone points it out.

One time, Hyunjin walked into the studio to find Chan hugging your hoodie while working on his laptop.

“Yo… isn’t that Y/N’s?”

“Shut up.”

But didn’t let go.

---

Getting easily annoyed over dumb things

When he misses you, everything else starts to irritate him.

His computer freezes, Changbin leaves a mess in the studio, the coffee’s not sweet enough… it’s like your absence makes him extra sensitive and every tiny thing becomes an issue.

If anyone asks what’s wrong, he brushes it off, claiming he’s tired. But only Felix can tell by the way he fiddles with the bracelet you gave him and stays unusually quiet.

---

Rewatching your old videos and voice notes

Chan’s a silent emotional type.

When he misses you, he opens your old videos and voice notes — even the dumb ones where you’re ranting about a headache or lying in bed whispering a goodnight.

He’s never deleted a single one. He even has a secret folder.

His favorite? A video of you in pajamas, hair messy, smiling sleepily:

“You’re ignoring me, huh? It’s fine… just wanted to say I miss you.”

He watches it three times before bed when the ache hits.

“You have no idea how much I miss you too, baby…” he mutters to his screen.

---

Overworking himself at the gym or studio

When he can’t be near you, Chan tries to bury himself in work. Extra dance practice, long studio hours, random remix ideas for songs that don’t need remixes — anything to distract his brain.

But it never works.

Halfway through editing, he’ll catch himself typing your name in the file name or hiding a message in the beat.

“‘MissYouY/N.mp3’? Seriously, bro… I’m screwed.”

But he won’t delete it.

---

Staring at you nonstop on video calls

When you finally FaceTime, he can’t stop staring.

Even when you’re rambling about the most random stuff, he watches you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

Chan’s got this habit of admiring you quietly — studying your face, the way your hair falls, how you bite your lip when you’re thinking.

When you catch him and ask “What?”, he just shrugs:

“Nothing… just thinking about how pretty you are.”

---

Biting his lip without realizing it

It’s physical.

When he misses you, he starts biting his lower lip, sometimes leaving a mark. Especially when he’s typing a message and deleting it, or passing by a place you used to hang out.

It’s so obvious the guys pick up on it immediately.

“You’re doing the lip thing again. Missing Y/N?”

He rolls his eyes but never denies it.

---

Sending you random gifts anonymously

Chan has this habit of sending you little things when he misses you — but he won’t say it’s from him.

A bouquet at your office, your favorite snack left at your door, a tiny plush keychain… he’ll have staff or a delivery service drop it off without a name attached.

But you always know.

Because only he would pick something that perfect.

And when you mention it over the phone “I got a weird little surprise today”, he feigns surprise:

“Really? Must be someone who likes you a lot…”

---

Talking to you in his head

As cheesy as it sounds, he does this.

When he’s too busy, too far, or too shy to text you first, he has full-blown conversations with you in his head.

Imagining what you’d say to his jokes, how you’d react to his rants.

Sometimes he even chuckles to himself.

“You’d laugh at this, wouldn’t you?”

It’s his little way of keeping you close.

---

Lee Know — Habits he has when he misses you

---

Staring at your pictures on his phone

Minho isn’t glued to his phone 24/7, but when he misses you, he opens his gallery and scrolls through your photos together.

Even though he’s seen them a thousand times, he always finds some new detail — the way you smile, how you hold his hand, the sunset in the background.

He stares at the screen in silence with a small, bittersweet grin.

“Tsk… look at this silly face…”

And keeps staring anyway.

---

Watching cat videos to distract himself

To trick his brain, Lee Know has this habit of watching random cat TikToks when he misses you.

It’s his way of pretending he’s not thinking about you.

But deep down, he wishes you were next to him, watching those videos together.

Sometimes, he saves the best ones to send you later.

“Y/N’s gonna love this one.”

---

Playing with the rings or bracelets you gave him

Minho’s surprisingly sentimental, though he’ll never admit it.

When he misses you, he starts fiddling with the rings or bracelets you gave him — spinning them on his finger or tracing them with his thumb.

It’s unconscious.

If someone asks, he’ll dodge the question, but his eyes give him away.

---

Getting quieter than usual

Normally playful and sarcastic, Lee Know turns silent when he misses you.

His replies get short, jokes disappear, and he keeps to himself.

Only those closest to him notice it — Chan and Hyunjin clock it immediately.

“Dude, just text Y/N before you get unbearable.”

---

Practicing choreography until exhaustion

He throws himself into dancing.

When the ache gets too strong, Minho heads to the studio and practices until his body can’t anymore.

It’s his way of releasing tension and trying not to overthink.

He can spend all night there.

“If I get tired enough, I’ll fall asleep without missing her.”

(But it never works.)

---

Keeping unsent messages

His phone’s notes app is full of things he wishes he could tell you.

Photos he saw and thought of you, a quick “I miss you,” random thoughts — but his pride (and fear of being clingy) stop him from hitting send.

They just sit there, waiting.

---

Imagining conversations with you

When he misses you, Minho starts having conversations with you in his head.

He imagines your reactions, the things you’d say if he told you something dumb he did, or you scolding him for acting reckless.

Sometimes, it even makes him laugh.

“Y/N would kill me for this.”

---

Staring at places you used to go together

If he passes by a café or street you both used to visit, he stops and stares for a while, replaying the memories in his head.

If no one’s around, he might even go inside to feel closer to you again.

---

Staying up too late

Minho hates sleeping without saying goodnight to you.

When he misses you, he stays up scrolling aimlessly, hoping you’ll come online or message him first.

And when you finally do, his mood flips instantly.

“Took you long enough…”

(But he’s smiling like an idiot.)

---

Saving food for you

Even when you’re not around, he subconsciously saves part of his snack or the best bite of his meal for you.

It’s automatic.

Later, he realizes what he’s done and gets annoyed at himself for being so soft.

“Tsk… ridiculous.”

But still doesn’t throw it away.

--

Changbin — Habits he has when he misses you

---

Recording voice notes just to hear himself saying your name

Changbin misses you in this intense, restless way sometimes.

He records little voice notes saying your name or your pet names — just to listen to them later.

He never sends them, though. Keeps them saved.

Listens to them before bed or on the way to practice.

“Hey, Y/N… miss you, damn it.”

Then laughs at himself for being so cheesy — but never deletes them.

---

Sleeping hugging your-scented pillow

He’d never admit it, but there’s a pillow that still smells like you from the last time you stayed over.

When he misses you, he hugs it like it’s you.

Face buried in it, grumbling at how soft he’s being.

“Pathetic, Changbin… but it feels good.”

---

Writing rap lyrics about you

His favorite way to vent is writing.

And when he misses you, all his lyrics end up being about you — about the ache, the words he can’t say out loud, the emptiness without you.

He writes them secretly in his notes or the studio.

Never shows them to anyone. Not even Chan.

---

Stress-eating junk food

Changbin loves snacks, but when he misses you, he goes all out.

Devours everything in the dorm, orders midnight food deliveries, drinks soda when he’s supposed to be cutting down.

“Y/N would scold the hell outta me if they saw this.”

And still eats it anyway.

---

Getting moody and extra sensitive

He turns into a grumpy, clingy bear disguised as an annoyed grump.

Gets mad easily, hates being teased, snaps back, and any joke about you makes him shut down.

Just hearing your name makes his chest tighten.

“Stop talking about Y/N already…”

Though secretly hoping you’ll show up out of nowhere.

---

Listening to your shared playlists

Changbin saves every song you both liked or listened to together.

When he misses you, he pops in his earbuds and listens to them on repeat.

Sometimes, one special song gets stuck on loop.

He lies in bed, singing softly to himself, thinking about you.

---

Sending memes just to start a conversation

When he’s missing you but too shy to say it outright, he sends you memes, dumb stickers or TikToks just to get your attention.

If you take too long to reply, he sends another. And another.

“Look at this. It’s so you.”

Just to get a “you idiot” back from you.

---

Stalking your old Instagram posts

Changbin shamelessly scrolls through your Instagram.

Rewatches your old posts, reads the comments, smiles to himself, and regrets not liking more of your selfies before.

Sometimes he even comments on old pics to see if you’ll notice.

---

Locking himself in the studio

When the missing gets too heavy, he hides in the studio.

Dims the lights, plays a random beat and either writes or sits scrolling through his phone, hoping you’ll message.

Nobody can drag him out when he’s like that.

---

Imagining you two living together

Yeah — Changbin’s a lowkey hopeless romantic.

When he misses you, he starts imagining you living together — waiting for him at home, watching movies, sharing snacks, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Sometimes he even writes about it.

“Pathetic, but it’d be perfect.”

Hyunjin — Habits He Has When He Misses You

---

Playing with the bracelet or ring you gave him

Hyunjin is super sentimental when it comes to meaningful things. If you gave him a bracelet, ring, or necklace, it’s sacred.

Every time he misses you, he plays with it, spins it on his finger, traces its details, and stares at it.

If someone notices and asks, he just says:

“Nothing… just thinking.”

But inside, he’s drowning in missing you.

---

Drawing your face or things that remind him of you

When he misses you, Hyunjin locks himself in his room or art studio and starts sketching.

It could be your sleeping face, your smile, your profile, or something that reminds him of you — a flower, a star, or a little note that says “come back soon.”

His sketchbook has pages you have no idea about.

And he never throws them away.

---

Writing letters he never sends

Hyunjin has this habit of writing letters as if he were talking to you.

He vents about his day, talks about missing you, describes the things he wishes he could be doing with you, and finishes with lines like:

“If you were here now, everything would be better.”

He keeps these letters in a small wooden box in his closet.

---

Spraying your perfume on his pillow before sleeping

On days when missing you hurts too much, Hyunjin sprays your perfume on his pillow or bed sheets.

He lies down, closes his eyes, and imagines it’s you.

He whispers your name softly and smiles, but sometimes he tears up.

“Just a little longer… just until I fall asleep.”

---

Creating playlists full of sad love songs

Hyunjin is the king of themed playlists.

He has one just for songs about missing someone, long-distance love, and aching for a hug.

When he misses you, he plays that list, lies on his bed or the floor, stares at the ceiling, and lets the music speak for him.

Each song reminds him of a specific moment with you.

---

Stalking your social media and accidentally liking old posts

He’s constantly checking your Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok.

He watches your stories over and over, replays your reels where you smile, and even reads the comments under your photos.

Sometimes he accidentally likes an old post, panics, and unlikes it right away — but it’s too late.

“Shit… now she’s gonna think I’m desperate.”

(He totally is.)

---

Talking about you nonstop to the members

Hyunjin can’t hide it when he misses you.

He keeps telling stories, remembering silly things you two did, and randomly says stuff like:

“Ah, Y/N loved this food.”

“This reminds me of her.”

“She would’ve done this better.”

The members just roll their eyes and smile knowingly.

---

Typing messages and deleting them before sending

He writes huge declarations at night, long texts about how much he misses you, how he dreamt about you, and how he just wants to hear your voice.

But in the end, he always deletes everything.

“What for? She’s probably busy… never mind.”

And does this almost every night.

---

Wearing your clothes you left at his place

If you ever left a hoodie, T-shirt, or anything at his place, Hyunjin wears it.

He buries himself in it like a hug.

It’s where he feels safe and a little closer to you.

“Ridiculous, but comforting.”

If someone knocks on his door, he throws it across the room to avoid teasing.

---

Sending Dwaekki videos to you

He knows Dwaekki makes you laugh, so when missing you gets too heavy, he records a video of his plushie and sends it, pretending it’s Dwaekki messaging you.

“Hi Y/N, come back soon, Hyunjin’s insufferable with longing.”

Then hides from embarrassment.

---

Spacing out during rehearsals

During practice, he often zones out when he’s missing you.

He forgets steps, misses his marks, and takes too long to respond.

He’ll just stand there staring into space, imagining you smiling or lying on his lap.

If someone calls him out, he blames it on exhaustion.

---

Listening to your old voice notes and videos

He has a hidden folder on his phone full of your voice notes, videos, and selfies.

When he misses you, he opens it, plays your good night audios, your silly laughs, and those times you called him “my prince.”

Sometimes he falls asleep holding his phone, listening to your voice.

---

Talking to himself in the mirror

Yes, he talks to his reflection.

He rehearses things he wishes he could say to you, like:

“Why aren’t you here?”

“I miss you so much, Y/N.”

“You should’ve seen how beautiful the sky looked today…”

Then he laughs at himself and gets sad all over again.

---

Dreaming about you and waking up even lonelier

When he finally sleeps, he usually dreams of you.

In those dreams, you’re holding hands, traveling, laughing, sharing desserts, or just lying down talking.

He wakes up with his chest heavy and missing you even more.

“I wish I could’ve stayed dreaming.”

---

Texting the members for advice

When it gets too bad, he texts Chan, Han, or Felix asking what he should do.

Should he call you, wait, or just send a meme?

Most of the time, he decides to stay quiet.

“I don’t know… I’ll just draw.”

---

Keeping every tiny thing you gave him

If you gave him a doodle, a flower, a movie ticket, a candy wrapper, anything — he keeps it.

He has a box full of those little things, and when he misses you, he opens it and goes through everything just to feel close again.

---

Practicing choreo wondering if you’d like it

Every time there’s a new song, he imagines if you’d like the choreography, which part you’d find coolest or hottest.

Sometimes he practices harder just thinking it might impress you.

---

Saving places he wants to take you

Whenever he sees a cute café, an art exhibit, or a new restaurant, he saves it on his phone.

“Take Y/N here.”

The list already has over 20 places.

Han Jisung — His Habits When He Misses You

---

Eating junk food like the world’s ending

Han deals with missing you by eating literally everything he finds.

Snacks, cookies, chocolate, ice cream — you name it.

The other members always notice it right away:

“Missing Y/N again, huh?”

And he just pouts and keeps chewing.

---

Writing songs about you and hiding them

Jisung loves writing songs, you know that.

But when he misses you, he secretly writes lyrics about you — some are cute, wishing you were there, and others are sad, about feeling lonely or frustrated.

Then he never has the guts to show them to you.

They’re all saved in a secret folder on his laptop.

“Maybe one day… or not.”

---

Staring at his phone waiting for your message

He opens and closes your chat over and over, checks if you’re online, if you posted something, if you liked a post.

Sometimes he even types:

“Miss u”

And deletes it.

Every 5 minutes.

---

Watching all your silly videos together

He has a gallery full of dumb videos you two made: dubbing memes, dancing badly, laughing at stupid things.

When he misses you, he watches them and laughs alone.

And keeps saying:

“You idiot, why do I like you this much?”

---

Talking about you non-stop

Jisung can’t hide it.

Whenever he misses you, literally every topic turns into an excuse to mention you:

“Y/N would’ve done it better.”

“She loves this drama.”

“This reminds me of that one time with her.”

And the guys just look at him like:

“Dude, just confess already.”

---

Setting your photo as his wallpaper (and changing it back out of embarrassment)

Every time the missing gets too strong, he sets your photo as his lockscreen.

But then he gets embarrassed someone might see it and changes it to a meme.

“Okay… no one saw, I’m fine.”

Then switches back to your pic at night.

---

Talking to the stuffed animal you gave him

You gave him a little stuffed animal, and when he misses you, he actually talks to it.

“She won’t text me back… think she’s busy? I’m being dumb, huh?”

Then hugs it to sleep.

---

Telling bad jokes to distract himself

When he’s missing you, he keeps making terrible jokes to try and laugh and distract himself.

No one finds them funny.

He ends up laughing alone, thinking of you.

“At least Y/N would laugh, for sure.”

---

Sleeping with your hoodie

If you ever left a hoodie or shirt with him — forget it, it’s sacred now.

He sleeps hugging it, burying his face in it just to feel your scent, and only then he manages to fall asleep.

“I’m becoming a freak… but whatever.”

---

Gaming until his hands hurt

When he misses you too much, he sits in front of the computer and plays nonstop.

FPS, LOL, whatever.

Until his fingers go numb.

It’s the only way to stop thinking about you for a while.

Felix — His Habits When He Misses You

---

Recording cute voice notes for you but never sending them

Felix always records little voice notes when he misses you.

Saying he misses you, telling you about his day, or just calling your name in that soft, deep voice.

Then he listens to it, gets shy and never sends it.

He keeps them saved like little love letters you’ll never hear.

“Aigoo… this is so embarrassing…”

---

Baking cookies or cakes thinking about you

Whenever he’s missing you too much, he goes to the kitchen.

Makes cookies, cupcakes, or any sweet thing he knows you love.

Sometimes he calls the members to eat together, but always keeps one especially for you in the fridge.

“This one’s for Y/N… don’t touch it, Changbin!”

---

Hugging his pillow and pretending it’s you

Felix has a hard time sleeping when he misses you badly.

So he hugs his pillow tight, buries his face in it, and runs his hand over it like he’s stroking your hair.

Sometimes he even whispers:

“Good night, baby.”

---

Staring at your pictures and videos until he knows them by heart

He spends hours going through your selfies, videos, and old clips you two made together.

Laughing alone, commenting to himself:

“You’re literally the most beautiful person in the world, you know?”

And keeps repeating it like you could hear him.

---

Sending you random heart or teddy bear emojis

Felix hates disturbing you when you’re busy but misses you just the same.

So he sends a single heart or teddy bear emoji, hoping you’ll get the hint and message him first.

And if you reply — he melts.

“Aaaa she texted back! 😭💖”

---

Getting unusually quiet and thoughtful

Felix is always so bright and bubbly, so when he suddenly gets quiet, everyone notices.

He’ll sit somewhere alone, fiddling with his rings or necklace, just waiting for a notification from you.

“Missing her like crazy, hyung…”

(To the other members)

---

Writing little notes for you

He loves to write tiny notes saying:

“I miss you.”

“Thought of you today.”

“Come back soon.”

Then keeps them in a box or in his jacket pocket.

Sometimes when you meet, he shyly hands you one without a word.

---

Staring at your shared playlist

Felix made a playlist with you, and when the missing gets too strong, he puts it on repeat.

Sings along, closes his eyes, and pretends you’re there next to him.

And when your favorite song plays — instant emotional meltdown.

---

Wearing the bracelet or ring you gave him

If you gave him a matching accessory, he wears it all the time.

Sometimes kisses the bracelet or fiddles with the ring while thinking about you.

And if anyone notices, he’ll just smile shyly.

“It reminds me of her…”

---

Writing your name on his hand

When the longing gets too painful, Felix writes your name or nickname on his palm.

Then keeps looking at it throughout the day, like it’ll make him feel closer to you.

“Okay… I feel a little better now.”

---

Seungmin — His Habits When He Misses You

---

Listening to your old voice messages

Seungmin isn’t the type to openly admit he misses you, but he feels it — hard.

He keeps every voice message you’ve sent, and when he misses you, he plugs in his earphones and listens to them over and over.

Especially the ones where you laugh or call his name sweetly.

“That laugh… damn, I miss it.”

---

Dropping hints on Instagram stories or in the members' comments

Seungmin is a little menace sometimes.

When he misses you, he posts a sad love song or a quote on his story, or comments under other members’ photos things like:

“Would be better if she was here.”

Just to get your attention and make you message him.

---

Wearing your hoodie or shirt that still smells like you

If you ever left a hoodie at his place, or if he stole one (which he definitely did), Seungmin wears it when the missing gets unbearable.

Lies in bed hugging it, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to feel your scent.

“Just for a little while.”

---

Rewatching dumb videos you made together

He secretly has a folder on his phone just for videos of you two.

Clips of you complaining, making faces, teasing him, or telling him you love him.

When he misses you, he replays them, laughs by himself and feels that bittersweet ache.

---

Typing huge messages then deleting them

Seungmin will type long paragraphs about how much he misses you, how important you are to him…

Then stare at the screen, sigh, and delete everything.

Leaving the chat open, hoping you’ll text first.

“Pathetic… whatever.”

---

Watching the dramas or animes you used to binge together

When the loneliness hits, he puts on one of the shows you both watched.

Acts like it’s no big deal, but ends up laughing at scenes you loved or hated.

“She’d totally freak out here.”

---

Gaming until late just to distract himself

Seungmin buries himself in games to stop thinking about how much he misses you.

But every time he wins a match or pulls off an insane play, he turns like you’d be there to cheer him on.

“If Y/N was here… tsk.”

---

Sending pictures of his dog with captions meant for you

He’ll send a cute pic of his dog in the group chat or directly to you with something like:

“I think he misses you.”

But it’s him, obviously.

---

Falling asleep listening to your voice or leaving a silent call open

On bad days, Seungmin plays one of your old voice notes on loop while falling asleep.

Or stays in a call with you on mute or even after you’ve hung up — just to have your name on his screen a little longer.

---

Staring at your chat, waiting for a message

He keeps his phone in his hand, opens and closes your chat, types random letters and deletes them.

Sighs, rolls his eyes, and mumbles to himself:

“Could’ve just messaged me already…”

--

Jeongin (I.N) — His Habits When He Misses You

---

Constantly checking his phone just to see if you’re online

Jeongin is the type who won’t admit he misses you out loud, but his phone gives him away.

He keeps opening Instagram, checking your stories, seeing if you liked something, and when the longing hits harder, he opens your chat just to check if your online status is on.

Sometimes he even types “hey”, deletes it… types “miss you”, deletes it again.

Sighs. Puts his phone on his chest.

“Aish… idiot, hurry up and get online.”

---

Hugging his pillow and talking to it like it’s you

Jeongin has this habit of talking to objects when he misses someone.

Whether it’s his pillow, a plushie you gave him, or his blanket — he’ll lie down hugging it and start complaining as if you’re right there.

“You left me alone here, huh? Having fun without me, aren’t you? Tsk, wait ‘til we see each other again.”

And when he realizes what he’s doing, he laughs, hides his face in the pillow and mumbles.

---

Sending dumb memes just to start a conversation

He saves every ridiculous meme he finds online just to send you later.

And he loves sending them in the middle of the night, knowing you’ll either wake up laughing or cursing him out.

“If you don’t laugh at this, don’t talk to me anymore.”

When you answer, he acts like he wasn’t even missing you, just wanted to see if you’re still your grumpy self.

---

Eating your favorite snack and complaining to himself

Whenever he misses you, he runs to the convenience store and buys that snack or candy you two always shared.

He sits on the couch, turns on any random TV show, and eats slowly.

Sometimes he holds onto the last piece and teases:

“You’d want this one, wouldn’t you? Too bad, it’s mine.”

And eats it just to annoy you, even if you’re not there.

---

Remembering inside jokes and laughing by himself in front of the others

He just can’t help it.

If he’s hanging out with the members and someone says a word or a situation pops up that reminds him of a private joke you two have, Jeongin starts laughing alone.

The hyungs look at him, and he shakes his head:

“Nothing, just remembered something.”

But in his mind, the exact ridiculous scene is playing, the one only you two would laugh about.

---

Sleeping while hugging his phone

When the longing really hits, he lies in bed, puts your last selfie as his wallpaper, and falls asleep hugging his phone.

Now and then, he unlocks it just to look at your picture and murmurs:

“I miss you, you know that?”

Sometimes he even records a voice note, but never sends it.

---

Talking about you to the hyungs without realizing it

Jeongin doesn’t realize how often he talks about you until someone points it out.

Out of nowhere, in the middle of a conversation:

“Ah, Y/N likes this too.”

“Y/N would do better.”

“Y/N would totally roast this.”

Until Changbin or Seungmin nudges him:

“Dude, just confess already or shut up.”

He turns red and quickly changes the subject.

---

Wearing the perfume you love on him to feel closer

There’s a specific perfume he knows you’re obsessed with.

When he misses you, Jeongin sprays it on himself, even leans in to sniff and says out loud:

“If she smelled this now, she’d melt.”

Even if no one’s in the room.

---

Singing your songs everywhere — in the shower, his room, the studio

Being the vocal prince that he is, when he misses you, Jeongin hums or sings the songs that remind him of you.

In the shower, while cooking, during practice, or even mid-rehearsal.

And if someone notices, he brushes it off:

“It’s stuck in my head, what can I do?”

---

Texting something provocative just to make you reply, then disappearing

He truly feels the ache when he sends:

“Bet you forgot about me, huh? Miss you, brat.”

And then vanishes, just to leave you annoyed or curious.

He waits for your reply, grins at the screen, but purposely takes his sweet time to text back.

Just to keep the little teasing game alive — because he loves the feeling of having you thinking about him.

---

The end

[hearts4hughes]

okayyy so i have a request . can you write tigh riding w dbf rafe and bug reader. but without any weirdness like she calls him "daddy". I'm sorry . in general write as you feel, but I want it to be that the reader tries not to show that she wants to do it, but then gives in. maybe he sees that she is not calm all day and he kind of lets her relax, but at first she pretends she doesn't want to? I don't know. well or you can do it the way you feel will be better

warnings: smut (mdni), thigh riding, age gap (reader is 20+)

you’ve been quiet all day. not in the sweet, dreamy way you usually are—drifting around the house in red socks and too-big sunglasses, humming show tunes and popping grapes in your mouth like a bored heiress. no, today it’s the other kind of quiet. the kind where you’re too aware of your body—too aware of his.

he’s been here since noon—fixing the sink, helping your dad with the broken fence, doing the things he always does without being asked. and you’ve been trying so hard not to look at him. not to need him. but god, it’s not easy.

not when he’s in a white tee soaked with sweat, hair messy, sleeves rolled, hands rough. not when he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans against the counter like he knows what he’s doing to you. he always knows. yet today, he’s not saying anything. he’s just watching.

by the time your dad heads out for a work dinner, it’s sunset. the house is quiet. golden. soft. rafe’s still here and still in that goddamn t-shirt. you sit on the couch with your knees tucked under you, pretending to scroll your phone, heart thudding so loud it’s embarrassing. you don’t say a word. you don’t have to because eventually, he walks over.

he sits next to you, slow and calm. his thigh brushes yours. “you’ve been tense all day,” he says, voice low, casual.

you blink, glance up. “i’m fine.”

“sure,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to your mouth. “you always go quiet and pouty when you’re fine.”

you glare. “i’m not pouty.”

he just raises a brow. lets the silence stretch. then, his lips curl into a devilish smirk. “come here.” you shake your head. “i didn’t mean like that,” he says, voice steady. “just…sit on my lap for a second.”

your stomach drops. heat curls low in your spine. “no,” you say too fast. “why?” he leans back, spreads his legs slightly, and shrugs.

“you’re clearly fidgety. figured you could settle down.”

settle down. you hate how your body responds to that. you should say no—you want to say no. but your thighs ache, and you’ve been clenching your jaw for hours, and he smells like soap and salt and home.

you hesitate—then shift. you crawl into his lap. not in a suggestive way—just carefully, cautiously, like you’re pretending it means nothing. he keeps his hands to himself and rests them on the couch. you sit sideways across him, your legs draped over one of his thighs, your body curled, head tucked into the crook of his shoulder.

his breath is steady. his body is warm. slowly, you realize how solid his leg is beneath you. your hips shift without thinking and your breath catches when your core brushes the muscle. he doesn’t move and doesn’t say a word. but you can feel it. the tension and the shift in the air. the way he knows. “rafe,” you whisper, voice cracking. he hums. “you said—just for a second.”

his voice is gentle. “i know.” your hands fist in the front of his shirt. you press your thighs together. your hips twitch again, the tiniest grind—just once, just to feel—and that’s all it takes. his hand slides up your back, his lips ghost your temple. “go ahead,” he murmurs, barely audible. not pushing or not demanding…just giving.

you let yourself move. slow and hesitant. a single roll of your hips against his thigh.then another. and another. you’re already wet—already shaking. your head drops to his shoulder as your hips rock again, this time a little harder. “you needed this, huh?” he says, voice low and wrecked.

“i didn’t mean to—”

“shh.” he kisses the side of your head. “you’re okay. take what you need.”

you do. you grind against him until your whole body’s trembling, fingers digging into his arms, whimpering his name so soft he almost doesn’t hear it. but he does because he hears everything. finally, you break. you shudder and still and melt into his chest. he wraps his arms around you like you’re the only thing that matters.

you believe it and he knows it.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister @sydneysslove @dsfault @missabsey @ivysturnss @kisses4rafey @katiebby04

[matchpointfaist]

we need another part to stanford!art x camgirl!reader :)))

i would do whatever you wanted, we don’t have to leave the apartment!

stanford! art x camgirl! reader part two (or the one where they make a movie)

tw for smut, being on camera, kinda dom/sub vibes, use of pet names (baby, angel, princess) and slight degradation (use of whore/slut briefly) and use of daddy only twice!!!. this is so horny idk. size kink

art was strangely nervous for someone who’d already seen you naked countless times, his hands shaking as he buttoned up his shirt. he checked his appearance six times in the mirror before leaving his dorm, then once more for good measure in the mirror of his jeep. he’d insisted on being a gentleman, walking to your door with a bouquet of tulips in his hand, his heart in his throat as he knocked. you opened it moments later, haphazardly sliding an earring into your ear, smiling up at him like he wasn’t about to faint at your doorstep. his breath caught. you were a vision in a short white dress and black boots just high enough to bring you a hair closer to eye level. “hi,” you grinned, eyes falling to the flowers, “for me?” “of course,” he forced himself to focus, “tulips are your favorite, right? i remember your parents brought some to a match once,” your eyes softened, a pout on your lips, “oh, art. you’re so sweet,” you took them, then wrapped one hand around his forearm, pulling him just inside, “stay here, i’ll go put them in a vase. then i’m ready,” he obeyed, watching you go, glancing around your dorm curiously. it was so you- photos of you and your family and teammates littering the walls, small trinkets on bookcases, a special shelf just for your racket bag to hang from. his chest warmed, suddenly aching at the very thought of being with you. you returned moments later, satisfied, “ready?” “yeah, ready,” he nodded, his hand on the small of your back as he led you back down to his jeep. your perfume filled his senses, rendered him weak as he drove, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the steering wheel.

he was everything his grandmother had taught him to be at dinner; patient, doting, attentive, kind. he held the door, pulled out your chair, let you order first. the two of you talked the entire date, laughing between sips of your drinks, sharing stories like you’d known each other all your lives. finally, he worked up some courage, tentative and careful. “so, why’d you start streaming?” you took the question in stride like you’d been expecting it all evening. “my scholarship pays for school and my dorm, but anything extra i want, it’s out of pocket,” you told him, seeming genuinely at ease, “i use the tips and things to pay for any extra tennis gear, or just shopping trips. my parents don’t really make enough to send me money, and i don’t want them to worry,” “why not just get a job off campus?” he hoped it didn’t come across insensitive, “i mean, if it’s just the money?” “i can film for an hour and make $300,” you shrugged, stirring your drink absentmindedly, “i know some people think it’s demeaning, but i don’t really see it that way. if people are going to objectify me regardless, why not capitalize off of it?” he nodded, mulling your words over carefully. “yeah, that makes sense,” he met your eyes across the table, “i’m sorry you have to deal with that, though,”

you waved a dismissive hand, smiling, “promise it’s fine, art. i know it’s not good, but i’m used to it for the most part. desensitized, i guess,” “do you feel like this gives you the power back?” he asked, genuinely curious, “like you’re reclaiming yourself?” you looked up at that, one brow raised in surprise, “yeah, actually. that’s a big part of it,” he hesitated before slowly placing his hand on yours across the table, playing with the bracelets on your wrist, “i’ll never make you feel like i’m taking that away from you,” he murmured, “i think you’re incredible. and what you’re doing, too. you shouldn’t ever feel ashamed,” you shifted in your seat, face warm, “let’s get out of here, yeah?” he picked up the bill like he’d done it a thousand times, swiped a silver amex with the easy air of a man who knew he’d have expendable income of his own someday. when you got back to his jeep, he hovered on your side of the car, leaned against the door as he brushed hair from your face, “you look unbelievably beautiful tonight,”

you kissed him, finally, standing on your tiptoes and pulling him down. his hands found your waist, skin warm through your dress as he kissed you slow and steady, smiling against your lips like he was lovedrunk, like he hadn’t already been inside of you days prior. “stream with me tonight,” you mumbled against his mouth, pulling away just enough, “would you like that?” he’d known it was coming, knew what he was agreeing to the very first time, but still took in a surprised breath. “tonight?” “if you’re in the mood,” your fingers trailed down, brushing his bulge through his slacks, “it’s all up to you, art,” “oh, fuck,” he groaned, leaning into your touch despite the crowded parking lot, “yes, we can, of course,” “mm,” you hummed, satisfied, and pressed a brief kiss to his lips, “you okay to drive?” he rolled his eyes, grinning, “i’m fine, thank you very much,”

when you arrived back at your dorm, he was already grabbing you, pinning you against the door and kissing you like he was drowning. “beautiful,” he whispered, trailing his lips down your neck, “can’t wait to be inside you again, thought about it all week,” you pulled at his hair just enough to get his attention, kissing his jawline softly, “bedroom,” he nodded, like he’d been snapped back into reality, and let you lead him to your room, stumbling between kisses. “our faces have to be out of frame,” you were half breathless already, buzzing all over as he undressed you, eyes wild, “and you can’t say my name,” “mm, okay,” he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh as he pushed you onto the bed, pulling off your heeled boots carefully, “you sound so pretty moaning my name, though,” you sucked in a breath as he pressed a kiss to your covered core, your hands flying to his hair, “god, art,” “mhm, just like that,” he licked a stripe over the cotton, groaning softly, “what can i call you then, hm? baby?” another kiss to your covered skin, “maybe angel? princess?” he bit at the skin of your thigh gently, “maybe i should call you my little whore, since you’re so desperate for it,” a mixture of surprise and arousal curled in your stomach at the sudden change in demeanor from him, “call me whatever you want,” he laughed, soft and deep, kissing your hip lightly, “and what’ll you call me, then?” you pulled him down to the bed, pulling off his shirt, “i have a couple ideas,”

you managed to pull away long enough to open your laptop, giggling as he kissed all over your hips up to your chest, his breath tickling your warm skin. “can’t believe i get to fuck you in front of all these people,” he murmured, nipping lightly at your skin, “they all get to watch, but i’m the only one that gets to have you,” you opened the cam site just as he shed his boxers, letting them drop to the floor, sucking in a breath as the cool air made contact with his flushed skin. “lay down,” you instructed, biting your bottom lip as your eyes ran over his bare skin, “i’ll make sure your face is covered,” you clicked the timer to start the stream, climbing into his lap, pressing your lips to his as you settled into his arms. he groaned against your lips as your slick cunt slid against him, his hips jerking at the contact. “you ready for me?” he asked, lips just a breath from yours, “god, this is so fucking hot,” “yeah, ready for you,” you nodded, trembling and eager. the electronic chime of tips rolling in filled your ears as he slid inside you, his hands on your ass, holding you tight. “god, fuck,” he groaned, eyes rolled back, “never gonna get used to this. best pussy in the world,” “god, m so full,” you squeezed around him, rolling your hips enough to make a show for the camera, “feel how deep you are?” you took one of his hands, placing it just below your belly button. “oh my god,” he buried his face in your chest, thrusting up into you, “such a good girl,”

you pressed your hands against his chest, pushing him back as far as you could without revealing his face as you rode him, circling your hips and eliciting desperate moans from his swollen lips. he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, watching your chest as you bounced, the hand on your ass digging his nails in just enough to have you whining. “good girl,” he panted, his eyes heavy, “yeah, there ya go,” “god, you’re so big,” you whined, moving your hands to his shoulders, exaggerating the movements of your hips, “can barely take it,” “taking it like a slut,” he slapped your ass, the skin warm beneath his touch, “you like that?” you pulsed around him, once again surprised by his dominance, “yeah, like that so much,” you leaned into his neck, careful to keep him concealed, “flip me over, face down,” he groaned quietly, nodding before slowly pulling you off his drenched cock, pressing your face into the mattress just in front of the laptop. he was on his knees behind you, his face just above the cameras sight, only displaying his shoulders and collarbones. he pulled your thighs apart, swearing underneath his breath as he spread you open, “prettiest pussy, swear to god,” he slowly trailed the tip of his cock over your clit, hissing out a breath, “you want it, baby?” you nodded, voice too muffled by the bed to be heard. “say it,” he pulled your head up just enough, “tell me how bad you want it,” “want you so bad, daddy, stuff me full,” “oh, fuck,” he groaned, low and deep, before pushing into you in one fluid motion, filling you to the hilt.

“god, even better like this,” he moaned, placing a hand on your lower back, “look so fuckin pretty, sweet girl,” you whined into the comforter as he thrusted slowly, “taking me so good, my little slut,” you rocked back against him, the sound of skin on skin filling the otherwise quiet room. he grabbed your hips, yanking you back onto his cock, pulling hoarse moans from your throat. “gonna fill you up,” he panted, thrusts getting more erratic, “is that okay?” “yes,” you said without thinking, “god, please,” “cmon, cum for daddy,” he groaned, fingers leaving your hips to circle your clit, “give it to me, baby,” you came with a shudder from the added stimulation, moaning into the drool soaked blanket, clenching around him. “yeah, good fuckin girl,” he murmured, hips jerking, “god, i’m cumming-“ he filled you, warm inside you, his thrusts slowing as he rode out his high. he slowly pulled out, leaving you with shaky legs, still face down into the mattress before you slowly pulled yourself up, covering your face as you shifted. you angled the laptop down, spreading your thighs and revealing the mess he’d left, his cum spilling out of you onto the bed. he watched with dilated pupils, heart racing. “goodnight,” you waved to the camera with two fingers, giggling before closing the stream.

an hour later, the two of you were cleaned up and half dressed, art’s fingers tracing circles onto your back as you laid on his chest. “got $700,” you said softly, looking up at him, half in awe, “can you believe that?” “you deserve it,” he pressed a kiss to your head, “put on such a pretty show,” “hey, what’s this?” you sat up, brows knit as the comment caught your attention, the user ‘pattycake’ blinking on your screen. ‘wait, is that fucking art donaldson?’ “let me see that,” he grabbed your laptop, “what the fuck?” “did you show your face?” he ran a hand through his hair, stressed, “i don’t know- i didn’t mean to, i didn’t think i did-“ “art, hey, it’s okay,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking his hand, “it’ll die down, okay? it’s happened to me before too. they can’t prove it,” “god,” he laid back down, pulling you back into his side, “my first scandal and i’m not even out of fucking college,” “mm, what a bad boy,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his chest, “we’ll be alright,” “if you say so,” he yawned quietly, “i’ll worry in the morning. too tired to think now,” “mm. night, love,” “night, pretty girl,”