#this popped in my head and i had to write it

[gay-dorito-dust]

Helloooooo 👋. Sorry if this is a bad time but I saw that you're writing for K-pop demon hunters now and I saw your fic with the tiger and it gave an adorable idea, so what if Manager reader had a puppy, maybe a golden retriever or something like that, who's normally a big sweetheart but the second one of the boys pet it. Ultimate zoomies, and the reader comes in to see the guys just trying to get the puppy to stay still.

Lukas was a handful.

You loved the golden retriever puppy more then life itself, always feeling alot better the moment you stared into his big puppy eyes and laughed at the lightning pace his tail went whenever he saw you. Lukas was serotonin incarnate and you knew you could never have a shit day, not when you had a beautiful bundle of fluff to always cheer you up by simply existing, becoming overjoyed with seeing you even if you had been gone for five seconds.

The months old pup made the headaches go away and the kisses he would give you was worth the slobbery trail when you knelt down to greet him with an abumdance of kisses, causing the pup to go mental with his own affection in return before darting off like a golden blur within the depths of your room, finding that it had more energy to burn off then originally expected while you went to make him some food for when he tired himself out.

You loved Lukas alot but his tendancy to get the zoomies after a simple act of affection like a head pat or a scratch behind the ear, he was off causing chaos and often times tackled himself into you when he slides across parts of wodded flooring from running too fast. It's endearing at first but soon enough you had learnt to not over indulge Lukas in affection and give him just enough to stay within a calm, relaxed state.

However you didn't pre warn the boys about Lukas' tendancy to become too excited when given too much affection when you had made them watch over your precious bundle of fluff, all you did in fact tell them before leaving to stock up on dog food was: 'if one of you looses my true happiness in golden fur, my serotonin boost with toe beans, i will make you all regret it, one by one.' All the while pointing at each and individual member with the intent of upholding your threat, before giving them a smile and shutting the door behind you.

So the minute Lukas had gotten one too many head pats and chin scratches from Abby, Romance and Jinu, he began to bolt about the room like a golden blur their eyes can barely catch up with and causing a ruckas. The boys were at a loss of what to do, having not dealt with this sort of thing before, helpessly watching your puppy as he darted from one side of the room to another within seconds, or bolting from the sofa to running down the hallway to your bedroom the minute they blink.

'what do we do?' romance asked, trying to keep his eye on the golden retriever, hoping not to trip over the golden blurr.

'(name) is so going to kill us.' Abby adds as he tried and failed to catch your puppy, Lukas' nimble and small body managing to slip through his hands like water as it darted off towards the living room once more, skidding scross the floor on a pillow he had knocked off previously.

'We have to find and calm Lukas before (name) gets back and clean up the mess he's made as to avoid suspicion.' Jinu said with finality as he and Mystery teamed up to find Lukas, letting Baby be on watchout for you, and let Romance and Abby be on catching duty for when Jinu and Mystery heard the energetic puppy towards them. It sounded easily enough of a plan to work in their favour, being demons and all but they all would soon learn that nothing is ever so easily exacuted, especially not when it came to your precious Lukas who could do no wrong.

'everyone know their positions?' jinu asked everyone, giving them a stern look.

'yes!' Abby, Romance and Mystery said in unison.

'Baby?' Jinu said, casting him a questioning look.

'Heard you loud and clear, watch out for (name) and alert you when they're coming.' Baby said his job within the plan back to Jinu, word for word, before popping the lollipop back into his mouth. Jinu made a noise of apporval as he catches a glimps of the golden puppy from the corner of his eye. 'then let us catch ourselves a puppy!' He said as he and Mystery made the first move into fishing Lukas out of the room he was causing chaos within, believeing it to be a simple job.

It wasn't in fact an simple job, the boys were loosing badly, so badly infact that Romance and Mystery were forced to sit down on the floor, having never had been left so out of breath by a small thing ever in their demonic lives. Also Baby had completely given up on his duty of watching out for you halfway through, instead finding more humour in his fellow band mates misery in capturing this small dog, smirking and snickering when the puppy seemed to get the best of four other demons in a borderline embarassing display.

So when he heard the door open, he was quick to stop laughing and looked over to see you stood in the doorway, just in time to see Jinu and Abby collide into one another as they failed to sneak up on Lukas who seemed to know what they were doing and ran from under them at the last minute; that felt intentional by the puppy, like he wanted them to be lurred into a false sense of security before bolting towards you the second he saw you, barking like mad.

'Hi honey.' You cooed as you knelt down to look at Lukas, noticing that he was filled with unbridled energy that needed to be dispersed, took notice of the state of the room and saw how trashed it seemed before seeing the exhausted states Abby, Romance, Jinu and Mystery were in as the pieces came together in quick succession. 'did you guys not read my text?' you asked, looking from Abby to Jinu as they looked at each other confused.

'text? what text?' Abby asked.

'oh i think they mean this one.' Baby said as he showed the two his phone as Mystery and Romance forced themselves to their feet to join the others in reading the text on Baby's phone screen, their faces all collectively drop after reading it, which read as follows; 'I forgot to mention this before i left, but Lukas gets really excited when given affection or excessive affection, and he will get the zoomies. So please give my lukas affection at your own discrecion. See you later.'

Romance looked at Baby, who seemed too calm for all of this and pointed at him, 'you knew and didn't bother to tell us!' He accused his band mate who only shrugged.

'You guys seemed a little busy with catching Lukas, so i'd thought i would tell you guys later, besides i'm not the only one with access to a phone. So whaat's your excuses.' Baby defends himself as he pops the lollipop he had removed to speak back into his mouth, shrugging.

'We were trying to catch the puppy while you were sat on your ass!' Abby exclaims in defense of himself, Jinu, Romance and Mystery who huffed in agreement before they all looked over at you, only to see that you had managed to calm down Lukas and wandered into the kitchen with the little chaos maker nipping at your heels in excitment of having you home as you sighed.

'Seeing as you've stopped arguing, how about you boys clean up, you’ve practically made my living space into an active war zone.’ You told them with a tight lipped smile, Lukas sitting innocently by your feet, tail wagging at a thousand miles a minute.

‘Do we have much of a choice?’ Romance asks.

You gave it some thought before responding with a resounding. ‘Nope.’

[thatonegrimm]

Hi! First off, love the writing, awesome job. Second, I love the idea of The boys either being giant worrywarts over the reader having a basic human sickness like a migraine, a cold, etc. and either trying their best to help. I have a feeling that someone would absolutely only make it worse. 😂

Thank you.

Hi!! 🖤 Thank you so much — I’m so glad the writing’s resonating with you! And YES — they’d 100% overreact to even the most basic human illnesses like it’s a life-threatening curse, and at least one of them would try to “help” in a way that backfires hilariously.

🌙Saja Boys x Reader — Sick Day Shenanigans

You have a cold. Or a migraine. Or you’re just kind of gross and sweaty and need sleep. The Saja Boys react as expected: way too intensely.

-----------------------

🧿 Jinu

You said you had a migraine.

Jinu immediately pulled out a talisman.

You blinked as he rummaged through a worn cloth pouch. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for hexes.”

“It’s just a migraine—”

“There are demons who specifically attack the nervous system through aura fields.”

“...Or I’m just dehydrated.”

He ignored you, now whispering something in old Hanja under his breath.

You sighed and let him hover a glowing charm over your head. Honestly, it was kind of sweet. Until—POP.

The charm sparked, fizzled, and exploded in a puff of smoke.

The fire alarm screeched.

You groaned and shoved a pillow over your face. “Jinu!”

“I—okay—I used the wrong binding powder—wait, stay under the covers, I’ll fix it—”

Romance yelled from down the hall. “Are you summoning things again?!”

“No!” Jinu shouted back. “It was a healing charm!”

You wheezed, half from laughter, half from the migraine.

-----------------------

💪 Abby

You said you felt dizzy.

Abby immediately Googled it.

Now he was pacing with your water bottle, five pillows, a thermometer, and three open symptom checkers on his phone.

“You might have low blood sugar. Or inner ear fluid imbalance. Or—”

“Abby.”

“—a mild vitamin deficiency that could lead to muscle fatigue and nerve disorientation—”

“Abby.”

He stopped.

You raised an eyebrow from under your blanket. “I have a cold.”

He deflated slightly. “Okay. But if you stop breathing, I’m carrying you to the ER.”

You smiled.

“Deal.”

-----------------------

📚 Mystery

Mystery didn’t ask what kind of sick you were.

He just handed you a cup of tea, sat down, and pulled a book into his lap.

You sipped.

You gagged.

“What… what is this?”

“Boiled root. Bitter leaf. Honey.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down—what for?”

He shrugged. “Cleansing. Balance.”

“I have a cold, not a spiritual imbalance.”

He blinked once. “Same difference.”

You stared at the horror-mug in your hands.

But he was watching you like he really believed it would work.

So you took another sip.

For him.

Not for the tea.

Never for the tea.

-----------------------

💋 Romance

You were bundled in a hoodie, wrapped in two blankets, nose red and puffy. Tissues surrounded you like a sad moat. You hadn't brushed your hair in two days.

Romance walked in, took one look, and smiled.

“Wow.”

You groaned. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, settling beside you on the bed, “you manage to look devastating even when you're falling apart.”

You rolled your eyes. “I look like a raccoon that lost a fight with a humidifier.”

“And yet here I am,” he said, resting his chin on his hand, “completely enchanted.”

You sniffled. “Do you ever stop flirting?”

His voice softened. “Not when you’re feeling ugly. That’s when I do it on purpose.”

You looked at him, eyes glassy from the cold, throat sore, heart full.

“…Thank you.”

He leaned in, brushed his fingers lightly across your cheek. “Always.”

-----------------------

🔥 Baby

When you told Baby you had a cold, his eyes lit up like you’d given him a side quest.

“Where is it?” he asked. “The cold. I’ll fight it.”

You blinked. “It’s a virus.”

“Where is it.”

“In my body.”

He stared. Then frowned. “That’s cheating.”

You laughed, which immediately turned into a cough. Baby scowled at the air like it had insulted you personally.

Then he got really quiet.

“…If I can’t burn it out,” he muttered, “can I at least hold you so it doesn’t spread?”

You blinked. “That’s not how colds work—”

But he was already under your blanket.

And weirdly? You did feel better.

-----------------------

M-List

[pullmecloseman]

LISTEN- Prompt 13. with Bob. I NEED TO BREAK THAT MAN SO BADDD

thanks for listening to me that’s all I have to plead my case thank you 😝

Bob Floyd x Reader One-Shot

Prompt: “Say it again, slower.”

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!! Whoever sent this ask needs to be given the fattest kiss ever, we are literally soulmates now. I’m not good at smut so unfortunately this is the best i could do :(( if you would like a steamier version tho don’t be afraid to send another ask!

Warnings: mutual pining, one steamy kitchen scene (bending over an island), squad teasing, unresolved sexual tension, dirty thoughts, some strong language

Rooster’s living room looked like a graveyard of throw pillows and bare feet.

Phoenix was sprawled across the couch like she owned it, half a blanket thrown over her lap, a tub of sour candy clutched to her chest. Fanboy, Coyote and Hangman were arguing about whether or not the third movie in the trilogy was actually good, while Payback kept threatening to pause the movie and fast-forward to the explosion scenes. Rooster, of course, was in the recliner like a king, beer in hand, a smug grin permanently etched on his face.

You were on the love seat.

With Bob.

Well, not just with Bob—pressed thigh to thigh with Bob. And it wasn’t like either of you were complaining. He’d settled there without a second thought, and you’d done the same, the quiet pull of gravity between you something that didn’t need words. It was familiar now. Comfortable. Dangerous.

The lights were low, the movie flickering across everyone’s faces, but you couldn’t concentrate. Not really. Not with Bob’s arm slung casually along the back of the couch, just barely grazing your shoulder. Not with the way he leaned forward sometimes, glasses sliding down his nose, eyes reflecting gold from the TV. Not with how his knee kept brushing yours like it didn’t mean anything.

You could feel his warmth everywhere. And it was getting very, very distracting. Your fingers twitched against your thigh. You needed something to do. An excuse. A moment to breathe.

“I’m gonna make more popcorn,” you announced, pushing to your feet.

"Yes, please!" Fanboy shouted.

“God, finally,” Phoenix added. “We’re on rations over here.”

“I’ll help,” Bob said, voice calm and casual as he stood up next to you.

You didn’t look at him. Not yet. If you did, you’d start blushing before even making it to the kitchen. You led the way down the hall into the dim glow of the kitchen light, the sound of the movie trailing behind you. The space was warm and quiet, only the hum of the fridge and the echo of laughter from the other room filling the air. You moved automatically—grabbing a bag, popping it into the microwave.

Bob leaned against the counter like he had all the time in the world.

“Popcorn duty,” he said.

“Your true calling,” you replied, fighting a smile.

He gave you one of those half-smirks, the kind that made you feel like he could see every thought you weren’t saying.

“Timer’s on,” you said, turning toward him. “We’ve got like... two minutes. What do we do with all this alone time?”

Bob raised a brow. “You’re the one who brought us in here.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault.”

“You lured me with snacks.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back against the opposite counter. “You came willingly.” He tilted his head slightly. “I always do.” Your heart hiccuped. Before you could reply, the microwave beeped. You turned, grabbing an oven mitt and yanking the bag open a second too soon.

“Shit!” you hissed, flinching as a puff of steam hit your wrist. Bob laughed, stepping forward. “Here, I got it.”

He nudged you aside gently, taking the bag from your hand. You stepped back, pretending to inspect your imaginary wound while he dumped the popcorn into a bowl. Then he reached up to grab a couple more bowls from the cupboard. His shirt lifted as he stretched. Just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Defined. Warm. Your gaze stuck for a second too long.

And he caught you. Eyes locking. Smile curling. You panicked and flung a kernel of popcorn at him. It hit his shoulder and bounced off harmlessly. He blinked. Then, without a word, Bob lunged forward and grabbed you by the waist.

You yelped, laughing as he spun you, and before you could even twist away, he bent you over the kitchen island—not hard, not rough. Just enough to trap you there, his body pressed close behind yours, one strong arm anchoring you down. Your breath caught.

The movement had been playful. Teasing. But now? Now he wasn’t moving. His breath was warm against your neck. His hand still gripped your hip. His chest was flush against your back, and you could feel him. All of him. The tension snapped.

“God,” you blurted, your voice a whisper. “You could ruin me.”

Everything stilled. Bob inhaled slowly. Then, low in your ear, he murmured

“Say it again. Slower.”

Your heartbeat went wild.

You swallowed. “You could ruin me.”

He groaned softly, the sound hitting low in your gut. His grip tightened just slightly, his other hand sliding up your spine, warm and deliberate. You turned your head, eyes catching his. His mouth was parted, gaze blown wide.

Then he kissed you. It wasn’t gentle. It was hot, hungry—his mouth slanting over yours like he couldn’t help it anymore. You kissed him back just as fiercely, one hand fisting the front of his shirt, the other curling into his hair as he deepened it. He tasted like butter and heat and everything you’d been holding back.

His hands slid down your waist, thumbs brushing the edge of your shorts. You gasped into his mouth, hips pressing back slightly. He cursed, low and filthy.

And just when you thought he might lift you up onto the counter or tug your shorts down or do something

“HEY!”

Hangman’s voice, loud from the living room.

“What’s taking so long? You churning the butter back there?”

You pulled back from Bob, breathless, face flushed. He chuckled against your neck. “Saved by the idiot.” You laughed, weak and a little wobbly.

“C’mon,” he said, grabbing the bowls. “Let’s not give them too much material.”

You followed him back into the living room, heart still racing, knees not entirely steady. You didn’t say a word as you handed Phoenix her bowl.

Didn’t flinch when Rooster gave you a look.

But when you sat back on that love seat—shoulders brushing, fingers grazing, popcorn between you—you didn’t miss the way Bob’s knee pressed just a little closer this time. And when he passed you the bowl, his fingers lingered. Like a promise.

taglist: @yagurlannastasia

[bunny-jpeg]

in the still quiet of night

daniel ricciardo

tags: smut/pwp, breeding kink, trying for a baby, missionary, sweet/dirty talk, unprotected sex, established relationship (married), sweet!daniel

author's note: i hope everyone enjoys this! still getting my handle back on writing fan fiction so i hope that everyone enjoys this!

  "There she is." Daniel cooed as he crowded your space. His large hands had your hips pressed up against the counter top. There was a sleepy look in his brown eyes as he leaned in to kiss you on the forehead, "Where did you go, angel?"

You couldn't help but notice the erection in his boxers as he pressed up against you. You held the plastic water glass to your lips and smiled softly, "Thirsty."

  "Could have given you something to quench it." He purred before he went it to kiss you along your neck. You clutched onto his shoulder with one hand while his trimmed beard tickled the side of your neck along with his kisses.

  "Fuck, Danny."

  "Always love how you say my name, beautiful." His voice a low purr as he pressed you further against the cold counter.

Not that it was anyone's business, but you two were on a little vacation. After two years married and three years post-retirement from racing - you two were now trying for a baby. Little chubby Ricciardo baby at your hip.

And Daniel was taking every opportunity to make sure no moment was wasted. As if you didn't have almost all the time in the world to start your little family. Now, you were pressed up against the kitchen counter with your husband's lips at your neck and his hands pushing up the tank top you wore.

  "Looking good, angel." He said lowly as his kisses led over your cheek and near your lips, "Taste good too."

  "Yeah that's all the drool from my sleep." You said cheekily before you put the glass down then wrapped your arms around his neck. He pulled you in closed by the hips and kissed you deeply.

Even with his scratchy beard, you felt something stir in you. Even with your mild exhaustion, you felt the thrill of pleasure climb through you. You moaned into the kiss and he held on a little tighter.

He held you like he did when he came out victorious from a race. How he grabbed you by your behind and kissed you mere moments after his helmet was taken off. Sometimes he dame near threw the helmet to the side just to his hands on you. You really were his everything in the end. It was why he promised to marry you after his retirement - a promise that he kept when he popped the question years earlier.

You moaned further into the kiss before he pulled away. He cupped your face and then pinched your cheek before he herded you back into the bedroom. Your little love nest for the rest of the vacation - a shame too. The little island you were visiting had the nicest beaches and the most delicious local cuisine.

But you could always come back once you had your baby. This vacation had a mission attached to it, and while the beaches were lovely - your husband's cock was better.

  "Missed you in bed." He cooed as he got you on your back with his hand snaked up under the shirt you wore. He leaned in closer, his nose once again to your neck, "Missed you so much, angel."

His words were like honey that pooled in your gut. There was something about how Daniel spoke to you at that moment, with sleep still tinged in his voice. But the excitement still rang through.You moaned as he toyed with your breast and rubbed himself against you further.

  "Drive me crazy, baby." He said, "Nice little vacation to get you relaxed to have my baby."

You moaned, "Keep talking like that and we're gonna have six kids eventually."

He laughed lowly as he played with your nipple between his fingers, "Be more than happy to have a full house with you, angel. Hope they're all as beautiful and funny as you." He then got the shirt over your head before he started to kiss your chest. He groaned against your flushed skin, "No idea what you do to me, baby. How much you turn me on."

You helped him by getting your sleeping shorts off and he got himself out of his clothes. All that strong, lean muscle and tattoos stirred something more in you. Your husband was unmistakable hot, in a way that made you rub your legs together with anticipation.

  "Staring?" He asked.

  "Can't help it." You replied as you moved up onto the pillows.

  "Like what you see, sweetheart?" he asked before he took you by the legs and got them around his waist. He admired you for a moment, in the low light of the bedroom. How sweet you looked under him.

The love of his life, how lucky he was to have met you. For you to let him love you - it was something he could not thank you enough for. He ran his hands up and down your soft thighs and admired you.

His cock was at full attention as his brown eyes drank in the sight of you - you looked divine under him. He leaned forward, his cock pressed up against you. He then kissed you deeply on the lips and held onto your thighs a little tighter.

  "Look at you." he then mused, "My sweet wife. Fuck, you're beautiful, angel." His voice low and it sent ripples through you, "I knew from the moment I met you that I wanted you in my life always. My special wife."

You blushed, "Danny."

  "I love you."

  "I love you too." The tenderness if your voice was hitched as he sank his cock inside of you. You reached for him and held onto his shoulders while the two of you rocked against one another. No protect needed, you two were on a mission tonight.

You moaned and he chased it with kisses, his lips sealed against yours as he held on to get the best leverage to rut his body against you. It felt amazing, there were no other words for it. It sank something deep in his core as he moved his hips in time with yours.

You two were the perfect couple, happily married. And neither of you would want anyone else. Two perfect pieces of a similar whole and as Daniel continued to rut against you - he felt complete.

Another tender kiss was shared and he hiked your hips a little higher to move himself against you. You held onto his face, his beard soft under your fingers while he moved up against you at a steady pace. You moaned a little louder against your husband.

  "Remember the first time I saw you on the track." He mused when he looked at you once more. He rocked himself against you, "Fuck remember it like yesterday. How you looked in those tight shorts. I remember I wanted to take you out for a nice dinner."

You chuckled lightly, "and you also wanted the shorts over the back of the couch in your driver's room, right? I remember that quite well." You mused which made your husband grow a bit more flustered.

  "I'm not an animal." He defended.

  "I know, honey." You replied, "Never worried about that. I just know I have a certain charm that only works on you."

  "And I'd rather it only be me who is effected."

You pulled him in once more and you two shared another kiss while his pace quickened.

He groaned, "You feel amazing, baby. So fucking good for me. Look how you look under me." He shuddered as he felt the flowering feeling of pleasure curl in his gut. He continued his quickened pace and hiked your hips up a little bit more to get at best possible angle he could have you in.

  "Please." You moaned.

  "That's it, that's what I like to hear. Feel like heaven angel. And you're all mine - lucky me." He purred as his strokes increased in speed. Your moans were rather loud and the bed rocked against the wall.

The two of you were wrapped up in one another and the warmth spread through your body. It was exhilarating in a way that made your back arch as you held onto your husband's shoulders.

Tattooed hands grazed across your skin and you felt the pleasure only grow further in your core. It left you excited in a way that made moans slip past your lips.

  "Gonna have a baby with you." He said lowly, "Have a nice little family with you. Fuck, that's it, baby. Take me. Take all of me."

Your nail dug into his shoulder a little tighter and soon the pleasure felt so much closer inside of you. You gasped loudly as he continued to fuck you with such a feverish pace that you could feel your heart racing in the back of your mind.

  "Danny."

  "My girl." He purred before he sealed your lips into another heated kiss. He held onto your hips tightly and fucked you the way a husband should fuck his life. And it made you only curl closer to towards him.

You moaned into his kiss once more before you came around his cock. You held on as tight as you could, leaving trails of red across his beck. You swore under your breath when the kiss broke and pleasure consumed you. It elated you, it made your soul burn in a certain way that pleasure felt like a kiss from the heavens.

To make love to your husband always felt like an experience like no other. Especially when he fucked you through climax. He continued his quick movements and clung to you as he finished inside of you.

  "I love you." he said between heavy pants.

  "I love you too." you said in response as you both came down from your highs, "I wonder if it worked this time." You were soon at your side next to your husband.

He kissed across your flushed cheeks for a moment before he said to you softly, "Well, even if it doesn't. We still have a whole vacation to make sure it does." And sealed that promise with another tender kiss.

Just like how Daniel promised to marry you, he would keep his promise to grow your little family. <3

[n3ptoonz]

'Pretty Girl'

Pairing: Criminal!Stucky/Avenger!Reader

Fandom: MCU - AU

Warnings/tags: Smut; Explicit!!, porn with plot kinda?, 3some - bi kings!!!, WEED, fucking while high, Tony mentioned (i'm really going with this mcu bit okay?), dry humping, EIFFEL TOWER/spitroast, Steve is kind of smug dickhead but it's hot trust, small dirty talk, did i mention weed?? i had to slut y'all out i'm not sorry - but i didn't make y'all a punk like other authors be doing, various pet names used, kinda proofread

first of all, this was not going to get second part until someone on ao3 suggested it and no kidding this exact idea wouldn't stop playing in my head until i started writing and ummm i got carried away!! yall dont understand, i haven't written a threesome since 2022 LOL so um i hope this is good and not cringe!

this is a second part to "Atta Girl" and only kind of related to it, reading it is optional. this part is not a direct continuation.

side note, i watched "the gray man" yesterday bc i was looking for a version of chris that looked like a criminal and now here we are.

Word count: 3.4k+... oops.

It had been a month and a half since you'd last seen or spoken to Bucky. You were too busy, out in the world trying to keep it together with your team. It wasn't out of the norm that Bucky didn't hit you up first. You never asked why. You never really cared. It was simple. A win-win situation that was a silent compromise between you two.

Though, while on a mission in Romania last week, you couldn't stop thinking about that day. Not only the passionate night that left you breathless and unlike yourself but also that he swore he'd "take care" of whatever was going on with Steve. How was he going to handle one of his best friends getting caught on camera killing innocent people? It worried you. His connections were deemed endless from the jump and you even knew that going on.

You walked through the compound still in your day clothes as you passed Tony towards the elevator. He stopped you midway like a suspicious dad.

"And where are you going?" he asked with narrowed eyes and crossed his arms. "It's getting dark out."

"Out. I'm grown, Tony."

"Not the point. You've seen what's been going on around here. I don't need you getting into some shit while doing whatever it is you kids do."

Your face contorted into pure confusion. "Tony," you said, "I am 3 years younger than you."

"Yeah, well you add another ten and it feels more accurate."

"Okay- Hey, I get that you're on edge because of this Rogers guy but, seriously, I will be okay. I should be back by like..." you paused and tried to do some math in your head.

"The morning?" he finished your sentence for you and popped a snack in his mouth. He smiled briefly when you rolled your eyes. "Don't let me stop you. Oh and, by the way, totally not against self medicating, however, you stink up these halls again with that 'medication' and you're benched. Copy?"

Tony stopped chewing and gave you a look. The look you always give him shit for but he wasn't in the wrong here. He's right. If you were going to indulge in... whatever this is with the enemy, you had to do a better job keeping it under wraps before more questions arise. You sighed softly through your nose and nodded.

"Copy." you said. Tony kept his eye on you before he turned back to his holographic blueprints. You took that as being dismissed so you went on towards the elevator again.

As the October chill crept through your leather jacket on the way to your car, your stomach burned and twisted. You hated that you always got this feeling knowing this was all by choice. Nobody forced you to start fucking a gang leader. Especially one that knew someone like Rogers.

But hey, at the end of the day he's just a craving. Not like you two are dating or married. He can do what he wants and you can do what you want. Win-win.

"Yo," the sound of two snaps made your eyes refocus. You looked up and saw smoke waft around the shabby living room. You'd been laying in Bucky's lap, zoning in and out the past few minutes about any and everything. "Grass got you fucked up already, huh?"

You blinked. At least you thought you did. Your body felt a little heavier and your chest felt hollow, making your brows furrow like you caught half his question.

"Different strand." he continued, bringing the joint to his lips and taking a longer drag as it filled his lungs. He blew out slowly and made a few O's with his lips. You chuckled and shook your head.

"Didn't know weed could make me feel heavy and light at the same time." you mumbled. The AC pumped throughout the place but you usually ran hot under the influence. Bucky convinced you that stripping half naked wouldn't immediately lead to fucking--this time--so you laid there: half naked and feet kicked up on the couch arm rest. T-shirt and panties. He was shirtless but in gray sweats. What a coincidence. Bucky hummed in response to you while tapping the ash in a nearby tray.

"Saw you on TV last week," he said. His tone was teasing but gravelly and deep. A typical thing from him whenever he was high. "Little miss hero." he added with a laugh and a short cough from the gas. You playfully swatted his chest and took the joint from him to take your own puff.

"Shut the fuck up," you scolded and blew out. Your voice held no real qualms with him. "God forbid people save the world."

Bucky smacked his lips and shortly puckered them in thought. "Nothin' wrong with that, beautiful," he said, taking the joint from you after your second puff. "Looked real fuckable in that suit."

You groaned and sat up, curling up next to him with your knees under you and your elbow on the back of the couch. "You suck at genuine compliments." you said while taking the joint back. You hit it and crawled into his lap, watching his pupils dilate. When you blew the smoke into his face, he smiled and pulled you closer. His calloused palms rubbing your thighs like a balm.

"I can't tell a pretty girl that she's pretty?" he asked. Those crystal blue irises at attention and his frown lines nowhere to be found. You took the last bump and put out the joint, grabbing his jaw with your left hand and kissing him. The smoke you held in your mouth flowed into his and some of it came out the corners of both your lips. When you backed up about an inch from his face his hands squeezed your thighs.

"You said I was fuckable." you whispered, lifting your hips and grinding back down into his lap. He groaned and slid his hands slowly up to your hips.

"What's the difference?" he whispered back. You gave him a look and he gave a dopey smile. "Cool off, I'm just messin-"

You kissed him again and rolled your hips in his lap. Bucky was slightly caught off guard but he quickly recovered. It's been a while since you've actually been able to hang out like this. Chill, smoke. Green out for a bit before getting right to business. He grunted against your lips and eased you into dry humping him. His hands were gentle and he didn't buck up into you with full force. He fucking loved the way you felt against him. You moaned into his mouth and dragged your heat against his firm thigh.

Words seldom needed to be said when you two engaged like this. That night was just one of those nights. A quick fuck. Or two. Just a need for release but this wasn't that. Not exactly.

Your hands slid around to the back of his neck as he slipped his under your shirt to unclip your bra with ease, bringing the straps down your shoulders and pulling it off from the front. You picked up the pace just a little in desperate need of more friction. This took time and you loved it.

"Bucky," you pulled away and whined. Your head fell to the crook of his neck the more he guided you.

"Mhm...Say my name, gorgeous," he said as he kneaded your thighs. "Who makes you feel this good?"

"You do," you muttered. High and horny out of your god damned mind. "Bucky-"

"Oh, shit," a voice called out from behind you. You jerked upwards and looked over your shoulder with wide eyes. "Bucky, you could've told me you had company."

You scrambled to get off of his lap and covered yourself with a couch pillow. You hadn't felt this alert since a month and a half ago. Rubbing your eyes with your arm you got a good look of the man standing across the room. So casual and...smug as shit.

"Rogers?" you blurted out. Bucky cleared his throat and stood up, gently grabbing your arm.

"Let's not get crazy here-"

You yanked your arm away from him and threw the pillow back down into the couch.

"Are you- Is this a joke?" you exclaimed. Almost sure this blew your high. "I'm taking you in." you pointed at Steve and looked for your phone.

"Damn. And here I thought we had something special." he quipped with a dry laugh. Bucky gave him a 'Really?' look and Steve put his hands up. Bucky said your name while you frantically looked for your phone, completely ignoring the moisture between your legs and surely the dark gray patch on Bucky's thigh, which Steve definitely noted.

"Can you- hey," he grabbed both your forearms and made you look at him. "I told you I would take care of it." he said slowly. Your brows pinched together, perplexed.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

He let you go and you backed away from him, ending up standing between them with your back to Steve.

"Bucky," you continued. "What are you talking about?" you repeated. The high was slowly creeping up on you again but you fought it well enough to get your question answered.

"Rogers was framed." he simply said. "And I got the footage removed. Scraped from existence."

You paused. "The fuck do you mean framed? He's on camera!"

"Deepfake, sweetheart." he said and took a step closer. You took a step backward with narrowed eyes. "Somebody is after us and tried to make it look like he had something to do with that robbery upstate. Been trying to get that shit taken care of for a while now."

You tilted your head and folded your arms. The math just wasn't right.

"How long is a while?" you asked.

"Shit, uh... when was the last time you were here?" he asked. His question wasn't genuine because he was fully aware of how long ago that was. You sighed heavily and pinched your nose bridge. The biggest thing was you knew is Bucky wasn't a liar. He wasn't honest in what he did but he had no reason to bullshit you...usually.

"So you knew the whole time he was framed," you said.

"Yeah." he said. You lifted your head with an unamused look.

"Even when I drove my ass down here and asked you about it?"

"Yeah." he answered the same way with a stupid smile on his face.

You scoffed and looked around the room in disbelief.

"Why did you lie?"

Bucky hummed as he "thought" about it, finally shrugging and scratching his beard.

"Cause I'm an asshole." he replied, making Steve fail to hold a laugh behind you. You stared at him as you stood there, feeling like an idiot. A total moron. All this time you've been feeling guilty and pondered late at night for no good reason. Had you out here chasing bullshit leads.

You wanted to cuss him out, throw your clothes back on and take care of this hot and heavy problem back at your quarters. You didn't even know where to start. When you started to speak, you felt a pair of warm arms wrap around your waist. You flinched and tensed, but didn't push him off.

"I gotta tell ya," Steve spoke in a thick Brooklyn accent as he rested his chin on your shoulder and held you close like you were familiar. Like he knew you. Your body. "When Buck said he knew you I thought he was talking out his ass but...you're real deal. I respect it."

Bucky smirked when Steve started kissing your neck and jaw. You visibly started to melt in his arms and even looked like his mustache was tickling you. Really, how could you protest when you had these fine ass men around you? The weed started to kick back in...and so did that horny.

"Damn it, Steve. You really know how to make a guy jealous." Bucky said as he walked towards you. Your eyes fluttered the closer he got, trying to focus with Steve's hard-on rubbing against your ass. Steve laughed softly and pulled back from your neck for just a moment. Then you heard the sound of kissing right by your ear. You slowly blinked and touched your lips, looking to your left. Eyes widening as you see them making out.

"Oh my god," you whispered. That heartbeat pulsating between your thighs getting heavier. They pulled away and looked at you. Steve's arms still wrapped around you.

"Hey, Buck," he started, his hands finding your hips. "You don't mind sharing me, right?"

"What the hell is happening," you said under your breath. You never would've guessed Bucky was bisexual but you had zero issue with it. You just wondered though... what were they? It had to be something a little deeper than you two, right?

"Not at all." he said. "I got my two favorite people right in front of me. Both very hot and very fuckable. Got a pre-roll over there so I intend to have some fun."

Steve's hand slipped into your panties without warning. Your thighs tightened around his hand but he was quicker, feeling the pool you called a vagina.

"I like her." he purred. You whimpered and arched against him. One second you seized the moment, not playing around. Yet, now, you were like a cat in heat to the very man you despised 24 hours ago. Steve brought his hand up to present it to the three of you before putting his index finger in Bucky's mouth. He sucked your slick off it with a wet pop. Then he sucked his own finger, the middle, with a low "mm mm mm" coming from him.

"Didn't know this is what he meant when he said you were sweet," he said, watching you stare at his ring finger still coated, but drying in the cold air conditioned room. He snaked his free arm around you tighter and held his finger up to your lips. You slowly parted them with curiosity in your eyes and wrapped your lips around his finger. He was right, you were sweet. Both men widely grinned at you and that familiar burn ignited in your stomach again.

This is going to be a long night.

Steve held your back down, pressing you into the kitchen counter as he took a few hits. You were stuffed almost full of him--one inch out--because he couldn't fit all the way. Your cheek against the cool marble as he let you adjust to his size. You could barely register the casual conversation going on between the two. A part of Bucky reveled in how you responded to Steve. Your body never lied.

Your whimpers and gasps and shallow breaths while putting on a brave face made both of them smile.

"Go easy on her, will ya?" he said to Steve. "It's her second hit of this new shit. Surprised she isn't conked out."

Steve passed it to him and blew in the other direction. "You never complained." he said, quite arrogantly too.

Bucky rolled his eyes and took his hit. "That's cause I never let you top."

"Now that I'm seeing what it does...I don't blame you." he laughed and felt your walls clutching him.

"You can move now." you said. It came out a little slurred but he put the piece together. Steve's palms glided down your hips. Like Bucky's. He remembered the things he said you like and carried them with him like a treasure. He never thought he'd see the day he actually got to have you like this.

Steve pulled back slowly and thrusted his hips, earning a hiss from you and clawing at nothing on the counter. His pace was slow and steady. He cursed under his breath in pleasure and genuine disbelief.

"Can't believe she's letting me in so easily," he said. To who, it didn't matter. Meanwhile, your legs were tingling and your abdomen tightened, quickly losing grip on reality. "S'big, ain't it?" he added with a soft grin. His hands moved from your hips to your torso to lift you up so your back was to his chest. You saw Bucky palm himself and join you two. He didn't do anything at first. Just watched.

Steve started to fuck you faster. Hands clinging onto your lower ribs and using you like a doll. Bucky's eyes never moved from yours but you definitely were not paying attention.

"Bucky," you stuttered out. Breasts bouncing behind your shirt as you held onto Steve's wrist behind you. He blew smoke in your face before giving you a peck on the lips.

"He fuck you like I do?" he whispered. Steve heard him but didn't stop and kept chasing his climax. Your breath hot against Bucky's face as he stood there an inch away from your face. You wanted to mishear the question but your brain was scrambled like shit right now.

"No," you shook your head and struggled to keep your eyes open. He only laughed and smirked.

"I'm not gonna get mad if you say yes." he said. "I was kinda hoping he was better."

"You're gonna confuse the girl, Buck," Steve said breathlessly, like he wasn't the president of Poundtown™︎ right now. "And I'm definitely a better fuck than you." he added.

Bucky flipped him off and burned out the joint before pulling his pants down slightly. He stroked himself and didn't miss how your eyes flickered and your mouth watered.

"Bend her over, Steve," he said as he took a step back. The other sighed dramatically but did so nonetheless.

"You're lucky I like you." Steve grumbled as his hips came to a halt. "Hurry up."

Bucky slapped it on your tongue then filled the rest of your mouth. Steve didn't even wait for him before he started thrusting again. Bucky scoffed at him but couldn't hide his smile.

"You are so fuckin' greedy," he said as he thrusted into your mouth at a similar pace. His hand rested on the back of your head while the other held yours for balance. You were close. Very close. You don't think you've ever been this turned on in your life, let alone had a damn threesome. A threesome with criminals too?!

Your growing moans sent vibrations down his shaft. He licked his lips and kept thrusting.

"And you are so fuckin' hot when you're jealous." Steve said. His teeth gritting as he was about to cum. Luckily Bucky was on the way there too just from watching you both. Cumming untouched wouldn't have been crazy at that point.

"I'm not jealous." he said, the sound of your muffled noises falling on his ears was nothing new. He grunted and fucked your mouth a few more times before he came down your throat. Holding your head there with his tilted back. "Fuckkk," he sighed with his eyes closed.

You and Steve came at the same time. He just barely pulled out on his own but you were so slippery in kind of just happened. Part of him didn't want to but the more rational part won. He shot warm white ropes on the back of your thighs as he caught his breath. Sweat sheened over his glistening, bare tatted chest. His irregular breathing steadily coming back to normal.

Steve looked down at the clear liquid dripping from you mixing with his own fluids with a content expression. Bucky pulled out and crouched in front of you after pulling his pants back up. Steve followed after him. You. Were. Fucked. They helped you stand up straight and you slumped against Bucky's chest.

"Is she sleep?" Steve asked and started to clean up the mess on the floor. You mumbled something indistinct and wrapped your arms around the brunette. Bucky rubbed your back and laughed.

"Within the next minute. Tops." he said in a quieter tone. Steve threw the paper towel in the trash after wiping you down and helped you back into your underwear. His tone a lot softer and less smug. When he patted your hip he went back to the living room and plopped down on the couch. Bucky picked you up bridal style and sat you in the middle of them. Your head on his shoulder and your legs draping over Steve's lap.

And within the next minute, just like he said, you were out like a light.

[obvithe-bestsoph]

hey gorg, can you write about reader working with hector’s mom in her salon ! you can decides what you want to do, happy ending please, tyyy

favourite distraction.

masterlist requests word count: 1k

a/n: i think this might be one of my new favourites, but i hate the title and i feel like it's gonna make no one read it 😔🥀 genre: fluff. warnings: none.

summary: hector is constantly flirting with you when he comes to visit his mama at her hair salon.

You’ve been working at Cris’s salon for almost six months now, and it’s honestly the best job you’ve ever had. It’s busy, yeah, but it’s the fun kind of busy. The kind where the coffee machine is always humming in the back, the speakers play early 2000s pop, and Cris is chatting up every client like they’re old friends. Most of the time, they are.

The vibe is less “pretentious beauty studio” and more “your favorite cousin’s house where everyone talks too loud and gossips with curlers in.” You love it. And you love Cris. She’s exactly how you imagined a Spanish salon owner should be, blonde, fierce, and never one to hold back an opinion. You’d been nervous your first day, sweeping hair off the floor and fumbling through shampoo routines, but she’d immediately taken you under her wing.

Now you know all her regulars, all their kids’ names, and all their drama. But your favorite part of the job? That’s easy.

Héctor Fort.

Cris’s son.

A living, breathing plot twist.

The first time he walked in, you didn’t know who he was. You’d been in the back room folding towels when she called out, “Mi amor, ya estás aquí,” and then, casual as anything, he walked through the door like he wasn’t model-level attractive or famous or both. You blinked, stunned, a little bottle of argan oil halfway through falling off the shelf.

He gave you that small, polite smile and mumbled a hello as Cris immediately fussed over him. “He’s so scruffy,” she said, ruffling his curls. “He won’t let me cut it properly.”

And then she dragged him into her chair, rolling her eyes like she wasn’t secretly obsessed with him.

Now it’s kind of a thing.

Héctor drops by the salon every couple of days. Sometimes for a trim, sometimes to drop off Cris’s lunch, sometimes for no real reason at all. And lately, when he comes in, he finds you. Which, weirdly, he never seems to mind.

Today, he strolls in just after two in the afternoon, sunshine and all. His curls are tucked into the hood of his hoodie, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, and he’s got that mischievous smile you’ve started recognizing as “he’s about to say something dumb on purpose.”

Cris is working on a client at the front, and you’re at the sink rinsing out dye bowls when you hear the bell above the door. You peek out from behind the divider.

“Hola, guapa,” he says to you, not even glancing at his mom yet.

You narrow your eyes. “You only say that when you want something.”

Héctor leans against the counter and shrugs. “Maybe I just missed you.”

“Maybe you’re full of it.”

“Both can be true,” he grins, tilting his head.

Cris peeks over her client’s shoulder. “Héctor, don’t flirt with my staff when I’m busy.”

You snort and shake your head, already turning back to rinse another bowl. But you feel the heat rise in your cheeks anyway. He’s like this every time - joking, smiling, calling you guapa like it’s a regular word in his vocabulary. And even though you know it’s mostly harmless fun, it still makes your stomach do a little kick.

He follows you into the back room like he owns the place.

“Do you even have an appointment?” you ask without looking at him, stacking the bowls beside the sink.

“Nope.”

“So you’re loitering.”

“I brought Mamá a coffee,” he says, holding up a little cardboard tray with two cups. “One’s for her. The other’s yours.”

You hesitate, then look over at him. “Really?”

He nods. “I didn’t know how you take it, so I got it sweet. Like you.”

You groan. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he says, handing you the cup, “you still take the coffee.”

You take a sip. He’s right - it’s sweet, just how you like it. The warmth spreads through your fingers and your chest all at once.

“You spoil me.”

“I try.”

There’s a beat of quiet while you both lean against the counter. The salon hums with background noise - Cris chatting about someone’s boyfriend, scissors snipping, low music playing.

“You’re always here,” you say, sipping again. “Don’t you train or something?”

“I do,” he shrugs. “But the days I don’t, I come here. Mamá likes it.”

You raise a brow. “You sure it’s for her?”

He tilts his head toward you. “You caught me.”

You glance down at your cup, heart weirdly unsteady. “So… are you flirting, or are you just like this with everyone?”

He looks at you, and for once, there’s no smirk. Just something soft in his expression.

“I don’t bring coffee to everyone.”

Your throat goes a little dry. “Right.”

He shifts, just slightly closer. You can smell his cologne now, light and clean and stupidly good. He sets his cup down and crosses his arms.

“I think Mamá’s hoping I’ll fall for a nice, sweet salon girl,” he says, like it’s a joke. But he’s still looking at you.

You blink. “And?”

He shrugs. “I don’t hate the idea.”

That does make you laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”

He grins again. “I’m serious.”

Before you can reply, Cris shouts from the front, “Héctor! Stop distracting her and sweep the floor if you’re going to be here!”

You both jump a little, caught.

Héctor sighs dramatically. “Slave labor.”

You toss him the broom anyway. “You heard the boss.”

He catches it one-handed, rolls his eyes, and starts sweeping. “Fine. But only if you promise to cut my hair next time.”

You blink. “Me?”

He nods. “Not Mamá. You.”

You glance out toward the front where Cris is still with her client, then back to him. “You trust me with your curls?”

“Dangerously,” he says, giving you a wink. “Besides, you’re my favorite stylist and the only one that makes them look just right.”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “You’re a menace.”

“But your menace,” he says.

And maybe he’s kidding.

But maybe he’s not.

[cedricluvr]

bob’s first bj

pairing: bob “robert” reynolds x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI oral (m! rec)

a/n: intentional lowercase + proofread! as a female reader i usually don’t care to write or read male receiving oral but this whimpering man? sure! please check out my other bob/sentry/void works if you like this one!

word count: 639

the first time you asked if you could give bob a blowjob he blushed so hard you thought he might combust. little did you know, bob often wondered what your lips would feel like around him when he watched you while you were doing something innocent like drinking from your water bottle during training or brushing your teeth. “a-are you sure, baby? you don’t have to if you don’t want to”, he asked, as sweet as ever. “of course handsome, wanna make you feel good,” you replied with a smirk. you two were already cuddling in bed so you got up and helped him pull his sweatpants and boxer briefs down. his cock sprang up, already hard at the thoughts he had about this situation he had daydreamed of now finally playing out before him. he had had blowjobs before but his relationship with you was like nothing else before it and he loved every bit of pleasure he was able to give you and relished in the pleasure you gave him. “awe, bobby, is this all for me?” you cooed. he blushed again and replied, “y-yeah, always for you.” he leaned his head back against the pillows and offered you his right hand, you took it in your left, lacing your fingers together. running your right hand up his thigh and to his cock you gave him a teasing stroke that made him buck up into your hand. then you leaned down, kneeling between his legs and licked a long stripe up the vein on the underside of his shaft. bob inhaled sharply and used his other hand to start gently holding your hair out of the way for you, ever the gentleman. you licked around his tip a few times and took it into your mouth before releasing it with a wet pop as he groaned and bucked just barely underneath you. you had had enough of teasing him so you wrapped your right hand around his base again and started to stroke him as you took him into your mouth, he was definitely too big to fit it all in your mouth. “fuck, sh-shit baby, feels so good, ah-” as you continued to work him with your hand you bobbed your head, swirling your tongue along him everytime you brought your head up, listening to bob’s little whimpers and groans, mumbled praises, “please keep going, n-need you” “g-god, you’re so good at that”. you set a steady rhythm and he moaned in time to your pumps and sucking, “baby! baby ‘m close-” bob cut himself off with a particularly loud moan, you looked up at him through your lashes and pulled off of him for a second, “cum for me bobby” you whispered, placing a kiss to his tip. you refocused your attention and efforts, stroking him harder and focusing on his tip. a few short strokes later and wrapping your lips around him again, he came quickly with a cry of your name and a babble of “thank you”s and “i love you”s. you swallowed his load eagerly, pulling back from him and giving him a few gentle strokes to slowly ease off the pressure. “that was heavenly, th-thank you angel” he mumbled with a blissed out smile on his face and some strands of hair clinging to his forehead. you came back up the bed to press a loving kiss to his lips, where he shivered at the taste of himself on you, and brushed his hair to the side gently. you looked at him, “thank you handsome, i’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” you gave him a small smirk and another kiss. bob looked back at you like a lovesick fool with hearts in his eyes and he put his boxers back so you two could go back to snuggling in bed.

[ashlynlovestlou]

hi hi idk if you can but could you write boss abby helping reader with a panic attack at work or smth???

hii of course i can

tw: panic attack comfort ; gn!reader ; cursing ; (reader is embarrassed about it)

masterlist

ellie version

you knew when you woke up this morning with a pit in your stomach that today would be hard. of course, you didn't exactly anticipate sitting at your cubicle in front of your computer, shaking so hard that your entire body hurts.

what caused the panic attack, you don't know. all you know is that you want it to be over. for the thoughts and the shaking to stop, just so you could have a moment of peace.

and of course, today of all days, abby fucking anderson is in the building. now, usually this wouldn't be a problem. abby is sweet to all of her employees and colleagues. nobody really has anything to say about her, except how awesome her bonuses are around the holidays.

but you're unsure of how she would react if she saw you in the state you are in now. sitting silently, not doing anything productive, just having a panic attack. she's not cruel, you know that much, but you also happen to know that she values her business and doesn't believe in wasting time.

so you type away idly at the computer, writing off emails to clients and trying to push through.

the doors to the room open, a few other employees' heads popping up out of their cubicles to see who's there, so you do the same.

of fucking course.

abby anderson and her long braid and tailored suit. she and her... perfectly sculpted jawline and soft eyes and... wow, has she been working out?

seeing her was a nice distraction for a moment, before you're pulled back into reality. your anxiety was almost making you feel nauseous, the "pit" from this morning growing into something much, much more extreme.

you duck your head inside your cubicle, trying to control your breathing as abby makes her way around the room, graciously greeting all of the employees.

head ducked, hands sweaty and shaking. god, please just get it over with before she comes over here. please, please, please.

"whoa, you okay?" her soft, sultry voice says from behind you.

you turn, trying to keep your cool as you respond. your mouth opens with the intention of speaking, but only a quiet, strangled breath comes out.

abby had read your employee file, along with everyone else's, front to back. something about "feeling closer to your employees." or whatever. so she knew about your condition, and she knows how it can get in the way of working. plus, it didn't take a genius to figure you out.

"come with me to my office." she murmurs, putting a hand in the center of your back to guide you out of your chair and too her office in the front and center of the room.

as soon as you hear the door click behind you, you break down into tears, your breathing increasingly shaky.

"okay, slow down." she says, guiding you to sit down on one of her faux leather chairs, "breathe. slowly."

you try to calm down, attempting to calm yourself out of the sheer embarrassment. jesus christ, why does your boss have to see this?

"talk to me. what's going on?" she coos, putting her hand back on your back and rubbing large circles with her soft, yet calloused hand. why is she being so... understanding?

"i need to go back to work." you choke out.

she's quick to tut at you, "the hell you are. you're staying right here until you calm down. can i get you anything?"

you shake your head no, swallowing the lump in your throat. you're too busy in your head to notice abby's thick thumbs swiping the tears off your cheeks.

"do you want to talk?" she asks in the softest voice you'd ever heard. god, why does she have to be so sweet?

you numbly shake your head to her question, the tightness that consumed your throat starting to ease, breathing becoming just the slightest bit easier. she could tell, too, by the way that your chest didn't rise and fall as fast, and that your eyebrows relaxed after being squeezed together.

"better?" she asks after a moment, to which you nod.

you didn't know why, but your heart was still racing. not with panic, no, but this time with something else.

sorry i haven't written in a while guys🥲 this probably sucks

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

“Sunflowers.”

Synopsis: You thought she was just a pretty girl who liked flowers. But one visit to the hospital changes everything.

Word Count: 2,616

H2H Jiwoo X Male Reader

a/n: I have no actual storyline for this piece, just thought of “oh what if Y/N just can’t resist letting jiwoo pay the normal price and always gives her discounts?”but no! my brain keeps adding plot twists.

Your dad always said the flower business was a sacred thing.

It’s a language. A love letter in color. Don’t mess it up.

So naturally, you were messing it up.

Not intentionally — you just… weren’t built for it. You didn’t know the difference between tulips and peonies most days, and the only “language” you spoke fluently was sarcasm and mid-tier K-pop fancams.

The shop was warm, bright, and smelled like nostalgia and pollen. Sunlight streamed through the old windows, dust dancing in the beams. Somewhere, your dad’s ancient pricing chart was pinned to a corkboard — hand-laminated and triple underlined.

You were supposed to be memorizing it.

Instead, you were scrolling through edits.

Damn, you muttered, staring at a slow-mo of some idol doing that eyebrow lift thing. When can I get a girlfriend?

The universe, apparently, was listening.

Because that’s when the bell above the door jingled, and your whole world tilted.

She stepped in like a walking sonnet — sunlight caught in the lace of her hat, dress soft and fluttering like petals in spring. She had a basket looped at her forearm, and a smile that felt like it bloomed just for you.

Excuse me, sir?

Her voice was warm honey. Her eyes sparkled.

You forgot how to breathe.

Do you have roses by any chance?

You stared.

Not at the flowers.

Not at the basket.

Straight at her.

And then — THUMP — you fell backward off your chair.

Are you okay, sir? she asked, clearly trying not to laugh.

YEP! you blurted, popping up like an unhinged jack-in-the-box. ALL GOOD. ROSES, RIGHT? YEP. FLOWER STUFF. FOLLOW ME.

You shoved your phone in your pocket like it personally betrayed you, practically tripping over a bucket of baby’s breath on the way to the cooler.

She followed with a curious smile.

So… are you the owner?

Me? No. Well. Sort of. My dad is. I’m the uh—assistant-slash-prisoner. You know. Family business.

She giggled. Giggled.

You could write novels off that sound.

That’s cute.

You were going to lowball the hell out of these roses.

How many are you thinking? you asked, unlocking the cooler. We’ve got single stems, half dozens, full dozens, chaos bundles—

Just one, she said, voice soft. It’s for someone special.

Your stomach did a thing.

One rose it is, you said, grabbing the freshest one you could find. On the house.

Oh, no—how much?

You opened your mouth to say six dollars like the pricing board demanded.

Two-fifty, you said instead.

Your father groaned in the spiritual realm.

Are you sure? she asked, tilting her head.

Yup, you said too fast. Family business discount.

But I’m not family…

Not yet, you mumbled.

She blinked. You blinked. The air froze.

I mean—not like that! Just—like, customer loyalty! I say weird things when I’m around beauty. I mean… people. Around people.

She smiled like she was used to people falling over themselves for her.

And worse — like she enjoyed it.

Well, thank you, flower boy, she said, handing over a crisp bill. I’ll be back.

Cool, you said, even though you meant please come back tomorrow and every day after that until I die.

She left with the bell jingling gently behind her.

You stood there for a full minute.

Then.

…Shit.

You had no idea who she was.

But you were fully prepared to bankrupt the shop trying to impress her.

She came back.

Of course she did.

The next day, and the next, and the day after that — same basket, same soft smile, different dress each time like she was handpicked from a garden catalog. Always buying just one flower.

A daisy.

A tulip.

A gerbera.

And you?

You kept lowballing every single one like your dignity depended on it.

That’ll be… one dollar.

Two-for-one special today. Even though you’re only buying one. Weird, right? Haha. Take it. Please.

Every flower she chose left you wondering: Who is he?

The rose — classic love.

The daisy — innocent affection.

The blue hyacinth — sorrow and forgiveness?! Who hurt her?! Do I have to fight someone?!

You started Googling flower meanings at night like a madman, scrolling through articles titled “What Does It Mean If She Buys ONE Flower A Day??” like they held the answers to life.

She always paid in cash.

Always smiled.

Always thanked you.

He’s lucky, you wanted to say.

But instead:

Here, I wrapped it a little extra today. Hope he likes it.

Who?

You blinked.

She asked it so casually, tucking the bloom into her basket.

You always say ‘he.’

Your heart practically choked itself.

Oh—just—figured. With the one flower thing. Thought maybe you were giving it to… y’know. A boyfriend. Or something.

You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling about as smooth as a cactus.

She tilted her head, curious.

You think I’m buying these for someone else?

You froze.

You’re not…?

She shrugged. Maybe. Maybe not. You never asked.

Your brain flatlined.

She turned toward the door again, humming softly.

See you tomorrow, flower boy.

And just as the bell jingled—

Wait!

She stopped.

You swallowed.

I never asked… what’s your name?

She smiled.

Jiwoo.

It bloomed in your chest like a wild thing.

I’m Y/N.

I know, she said with a grin, walking backward through the door. You keep writing it on my receipts.

She left.

You stared at the empty doorway for a good five minutes, hand still half-raised like you’d forgotten how time worked.

Jiwoo.

Jiwoo.

You said it once.

Twice.

Then sighed, picking up your phone.

No edits today.

You had flowers to learn

You didn’t mean to care this much.

But there you were — behind the shop counter at 9:17 a.m., typing “flower meanings for hopeless romantics” into a search bar like it was going to save you.

Lilacs for first love.

Sunflowers for admiration.

Baby’s breath for innocence.

You even made a chart.

You never made charts.

Not for school. Not for taxes. Not even for your dad’s pricing board (which, by the way, you hadn’t looked at in two weeks because Jiwoo kept getting the “love interest” discount).

You told yourself it wasn’t a crush. You were just… curious.

Curious why she kept choosing one stem at a time.

Curious why she lingered by the counter.

Curious why she laughed at all your dumb comments and tilted her head when she looked at you like she was trying to memorize something.

It’s just routine, you told yourself.

She’s just a customer. A very… pretty one. With nice hands. And a really good smile. And great fashion taste. And—

You were spiraling.

So you started prepping for her visits.

Just a little.

Arranged the front cooler more neatly. Swept the floor before she arrived. Read up on flowers so you could casually say things like, Did you know bluebells mean gratitude? and act like it wasn’t something you’d learned at 1 a.m. while lying awake thinking about her voice.

And every day — right around 10:43 a.m. — she showed up.

Like clockwork.

A new flower.

A new smile.

Sometimes a soft hum.

Sometimes a compliment.

Sometimes she asked how your day was going, and you answered too fast, because her asking made it good.

It became your favorite part of the day.

Until it didn’t happen.

The door didn’t jingle.

No floral dress.

No basket.

No Jiwoo.

You checked the clock.

Then the street.

Then the cooler — like maybe she was hiding behind the lilies, waiting to jump out and say Surprise! Just kidding. I’d never miss a day, flower boy.

But she didn’t.

You waited until lunch.

Then dinner.

Then closing.

You even made an extra stem bouquet — just in case she showed up late.

She didn’t.

The shop felt colder somehow.

Smaller.

The silence pressed in like a heavy coat, and even the scent of the flowers couldn’t shake the ache blooming in your chest.

You weren’t sure what you missed more.

Her voice.

Her smile.

Or the fact that, for the first time in a long time, you’d been looking forward to something without realizing it.

You closed the shop that night slower than usual.

One light at a time.

Lingering.

Hoping.

But the bell never rang.

And for the first time since she walked in…

…you really, really hated flowers.

Seven days.

That’s how long it had been.

Seven mornings of checking the time.

Seven almosts.

Seven times you rearranged the daffodils just in case today was the day.

You hated how much it affected you.

Worse, you hated the dream you had two nights ago — Jiwoo, smiling at some faceless guy who picked her up in a silver car, handing her a bouquet you didn’t wrap. He kissed her cheek and she giggled and said, “I don’t need to go to that flower shop anymore. I’ve got what I need.”

You woke up pissed.

At the guy. At yourself. At your brain for giving you an imagination that could invent heartache.

By day seven, you’d accepted it:

She was gone.

You were just a stop on her map.

A blip.

A dumb flower boy who gave discounts for daydreams.

So when the bell above the shop rang at 10:42 a.m., you didn’t even look up.

Not until you heard her voice.

Hey, flower boy.

You froze.

She stood in the doorway, same basket, new dress. Same spark in her eyes. But this time — her shoulders looked a little tired.

Jiwoo.

It came out too fast. Too relieved. Too much.

She tilted her head.

You look like you saw a ghost.

You disappeared.

She blinked. You blinked. You hadn’t meant to sound so… jealous? desperate? boyfriend-y? You didn’t even know.

I— you rubbed your neck. I was just… wondering. You always come by. And then you didn’t. For like a week. I thought maybe…

You trailed off. Couldn’t finish that thought.

She looked at you for a moment.

And then walked toward the counter, eyes soft.

I didn’t mean to worry you.

You said nothing.

She set the basket down and reached into it, pulling out a small pin — a silver brooch in the shape of a lily.

I work as a nurse. At Seongwon Hospital.

She smiled, a little sheepishly.

I host this little thing every day with patients who’ve received… hard news. Prognostic stuff. Things they’re scared to talk about. So I bring them a flower and we do a small ‘Show & Tell.’ They get to hold something beautiful while the world feels like it’s falling apart.

You stared at her.

That ache in your chest shifted — softened, bloomed into something warmer.

The flower’s not for a boy dummy~, she added. It’s for whoever needs it that day. Just one stem. Just enough to remind them there’s still softness in the world.

You swallowed.

And last week…?

We moved hospitals.

She sighed, resting her arms on the counter.

There’s a flower shop closer to the new location, but—

She glanced at you, smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

I like it here.

Your breath caught.

You came all this way… just for a flower?

Not just the flower.

Silence.

You didn’t know what to say.

So she reached into her basket again, pulled out a small bento box, and handed it to you.

You looked like you haven’t ate breakfast yet.

You took it. Warm. Heavy in your hand.

Like her showing up.

Like your chest, still reeling from that explanation.

You’re really something, Jiwoo.

She grinned.

Took you long enough to figure that

Days pasts, frequent visits happen and so is your heartrate frequency going ballistic.

It started with a joke.

Need help delivering one of those?

you asked, casual but hopeful.

You meant the flower.

She meant everything else when she said:

Actually… yeah. Come with me.

You didn’t expect to walk the pale hallways of Seongwon Hospital and feel the air change when Jiwoo entered a room — how it shifted from clinical to calm, from sterile to safe.

You didn’t expect how quiet everything went when she spoke.

“Good morning, my loves.”

That’s what she called them — the patients.

There were four in the room: two teens, a child, and an older woman seated furthest from the door. IV poles and machines surrounded them, beeping softly. No one smiled at first.

But Jiwoo did.

Not in a performative, cheer-up kind of way — but something gentler. Worn-in. Like she’d practiced this warmth until it felt real again, even when it cracked at the edges.

She pulled one flower from the bouquet you brought: a sunflower, petals wide like open arms.

She knelt next to the child first — a little girl who clutched a lion plush to her chest like it was armor.

This one’s called a sunflower. Do you know why?

She didn’t wait for the answer.

“Because no matter where it grows, it turns its face toward the sun. It looks for light. Even in hard places.”

The girl blinked up at her, wide-eyed. Jiwoo handed her the bloom like it was a wish. The girl held it like it was the first good thing she’d touched in days.

The boy beside her — tall, pale, trying not to look scared — got a gerbera.

“You said red was your favorite, right?”

He nodded, biting his lip.

Then, Jiwoo picked out a lily.

And you watched her walk toward the farthest bed.

The woman sitting there looked older than her years, hair graying, a silk scarf tied around her head.

She didn’t smile.

But her eyes — they flickered when Jiwoo approached.

Jiwoo knelt again, slower this time. Almost reverently.

“Hi, Mom.”

You froze.

You didn’t breathe.

Jiwoo said it like a prayer. Like it ached to say out loud.

The woman tilted her head. Weakly brushed Jiwoo’s hair from her face.

“You’re late,” she rasped.

Jiwoo smiled — not her usual kind. Smaller. Sadder.

“I stopped at the flower shop as usual.”

Her mother chuckled, barely. But her hand trembled as it reached for the lily.

“What does this one mean again?”

“Purity. Renewal. And… a reminder.”

She didn’t finish the sentence. But her mother nodded, as if she heard it anyway.

You had to look away.

The hallway spun for a moment.

Not because it was loud — but because it wasn’t. Because Jiwoo said so much with so little. Because the girl who lit up your flower shop every day was lighting up this place instead — one stem, one patient, one smile at a time.

Because she didn’t just buy flowers to be soft or romantic or whimsical.

She bought them to hold the weight of people’s worst days.

To remind them something still bloomed, even now.

And that woman — that tired, beautiful woman in the bed — that was her reason.

Her beginning and her end.

When Jiwoo returned, her eyes were glassy, but she smiled like she always did. Soft. Brave.

“Sorry you had to see all that.”

You shook your head.

“No. I’m glad I did.”

She looked at you — really looked — and for a moment, she wasn’t the girl who wandered into your life asking for roses.

She was the reason you wanted to keep every flower alive in the shop.

You reached into your coat pocket.

Pulled out the single sunflower you’d wrapped earlier. Just in case.

“This one’s for you,” you said. “So you don’t forget where to look.”

She didn’t answer.

She just took it carefully, like it was something sacred.

And you watched — quietly, achingly — as she held it close

[wonbyyou]

can i request a heejake thresome please... i loved your jakehoon one. thank you

hey anon, thank you so much. i'm glad you enjoyed my jakehoon story and thank you for this ask,, i might have gone a little overboard writing this but i had so much fun. i hope you'll enjoy it, i surely did.

cara's corner: heejake fuck, i just had to honestly, i needed it, you needed it.

-

The night pressed against the windows of Heeseung’s sleek penthouse, the city lights below a distant, glittering smear. Inside, the air crackled with a different kind of heat. You perched nervously on the edge of a deep velvet sofa, clutching a sweating glass of amber whiskey Heeseung had poured you earlier.

Across the low mahogany table, Heeseung lounged, his dark eyes sharp and assessing, a slow, knowing smirk playing on his lips. Jake sat beside him, radiating an easier warmth, his smile genuine but no less intense, his gaze lingering on the curve of your neck.

"Alright," Heeseung drawled, the low timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

"Standard rules. Five-card draw. But the stakes... well, we need to make things interesting." His eyes raked over you, from the delicate straps of your sandals to the nervous flutter in your throat. "Each loss… an item of clothing."

Your breath hitched. "W-What? Heeseung, that's..." You glanced at Jake, seeking sanity. He just offered a slightly apologetic, yet undeniably heated smile.

"Come on," Jake coaxed, his voice softer, honeyed. "It's just a game. Makes it more fun, right? Besides," he leaned forward slightly, his eyes warm pools of invitation, "you look incredible tonight. Wouldn't it be a shame not to see more?"

Flushing deeply, you looked down at your drink. How had this started? A casual hangout after a group dinner, just the three of you winding down. A deck of cards appeared. Jokes about boring stakes.

Then Heeseung’s suggestion, delivered with that challenging glint. And Jake... Jake hadn't said no. He’d looked at you, really looked, and that look had ignited something low in your belly.

"Fine," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. "One item. Per loss." The agreement felt heavy, dangerous, and thrilling.

Heeseung dealt the cards with practiced flicks of his wrist. The first hand was a blur. Your fingers trembled slightly as you fanned your cards—you had two pairs. Good. Jake lost with a pair of eights. He sighed dramatically, but his eyes danced.

"Alright then. Rules are rules." He stood, the movement fluid. Your gaze was glued to him as he slowly, deliberately, pulled his soft cotton t-shirt up over his head. The smooth planes of his chest and abdomen were revealed, toned and golden in the lamplight, a light dusting of hair trailing down towards the waistband of his dark jeans.

You swallowed hard, the air suddenly thick with the scent of his clean sweat and expensive cologne.

"Your turn, Heeseung," Jake grinned, settling back down, unabashedly displaying himself.

Heeseung merely grunted, studying his next hand. You lost almost immediately, your flush no match for his full house. Your heart hammered against your ribs. You hesitated, fingers hovering over the small buttons of your blouse. Heeseung’s gaze was a physical weight, expectant, demanding.

"Don't keep us waiting," he murmured, the command soft but absolute. With trembling fingers, you undid each button, the soft pop echoing in the sudden quiet. You slipped the silk blouse off your shoulders, revealing the delicate lace of your bra beneath.

The cool air kissed your exposed skin, tightening your nipples instantly against the lace. Jake let out a soft, appreciative sigh; Heeseung’s eyes darkened.

The game continued, a torturous dance of anticipation. Jake lost next, shedding his socks with a laugh, but the easygoing façade slipped slightly when his turn came again soon after. He bit his lip, a flash of something hotter than embarrassment in his eyes as he unbuckled his belt and slid his jeans down his legs.

He stood for a moment in just his dark grey boxer briefs, the outline of his cock clearly defined, thick and straining against the fabric. Your mouth went dry.

You lost the following hand. The flimsy shield of your skirt felt like nothing now. You stood on shaky legs, unfastening the side zip and letting the fabric pool at your feet. Now only your bra and panties remained, matching ivory lace.

The boys’ gazes felt like brands. Heeseung leaned back, his own arousal a prominent bulge in his tailored trousers. "Better," he purred. "Much better."

Tension coiled tight as a spring. The next hand was yours—a straight. Jake groaned good-naturedly as he lost again. He met your eyes, a spark of challenge mixed with pure heat. Slowly, deliberately, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs.

He paused, letting the anticipation build, his gaze locked with yours. Then, in one smooth motion, he pushed them down. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, standing proud from a neatly trimmed thatch of hair. Precum glistened at the tip. You couldn't look away, a pulse of pure, slick heat blooming between your own thighs.

Heeseung won the next hand. His smirk was predatory as he looked at you. "Bra," he stated simply.

Your fingers felt clumsy on the clasp at your back. The lace gave way, and you let the delicate garment fall. Your breasts bounced free, tipped with taut, nipples that ached for touch.

You crossed your arms instinctively, but Heeseung made a sharp tsk sound. "None of that. Let us see."

Uncrossing your arms felt like surrender. You stood before them, half-naked, the air cool on your heated skin, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Only the scrap of lace between your legs remained. Jake’s eyes were wide, hungry. Heeseung’s were narrowed, calculating, burning.

The final hand was agony. Cards slapped onto the table. Heeseung revealed a royal flush. A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face as he looked at your losing hand. Jake let out a low whistle, shifting his weight, his hard cock bobbing slightly.

"Panties," Heeseung commanded, his voice rough with lust. He stood, walking around the table towards you with deliberate, powerful strides. He stopped inches away, the heat radiating off his body overwhelming. His scent—expensive leather and spice—filled your senses. "Take them off."

Your fingers trembled as they slid under the lace waistband. You pushed them down over your hips, letting them fall to the floor. Completely exposed now, the slick evidence of your arousal glistening on your inner thighs, you stood frozen under their combined scrutiny.

Jake had risen too, moving to stand slightly behind Heeseung, his gaze roaming your naked body with undisguised desire.

Heeseung reached out, not touching you yet, but his knuckles brushed lightly, possessively, over the curve of your hip. The contact sent a jolt through you.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in your bones. "All that pretty skin flushed and trembling." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Now get on your knees."

A whimper escaped you, a mix of fear and overwhelming need. You sank down onto the plush rug, the rug soft against your bare knees. Above you, Heeseung undid his belt buckle with agonizing slowness, the metallic clink loud in the silence.

He pushed his trousers and briefs down just enough to free his own cock—thick, veined, and impressively hard, the head flushed a deep crimson. Precum beaded at the tip.

Jake moved then, crouching beside you, his sweet face suddenly inches from yours, his own hard length straining near you. His hand came up to cradle your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip. His touch was gentle, but his eyes held the same fierce hunger as Heeseung's.

"So beautiful like this," Jake breathed, his voice thick. "Ready for us?" Jake asked you softly, but it wasn't really a question.

The nap of the rug scratched softly against your bare knees, a grounding sensation amidst the dizzying heat radiating from both men. Heeseung’s cock stood like an obscene monument before you, thick and demanding, the head glistening with a bead of precum that caught the low lamplight.

The scent of him flooded your senses, making your mouth water with a desperate, instinctive hunger.

"Open," Heeseung commanded, his voice a low rasp that vibrated through your bones. His knuckles brushed your cheek, not gently, but with a possessiveness that sent another jolt of slick heat pooling between your thighs. You parted your lips obediently, your gaze fixed on the swollen head, the intricate network of veins beneath the skin.

As you leaned forward, tentatively flicking your tongue against the salty bead of fluid, you caught movement in your periphery. Jake. He hadn’t moved from his crouch beside you, his own cock heavy and flushed near your shoulder.

His hand still cradled your jaw, his thumb now tracing idle, heated patterns on your cheekbone. But his gaze… it wasn’t fixed solely on you anymore.

Your tongue swirled tentatively around Heeseung’s head, drawing a sharp inhale from him. His fingers tangled roughly in your hair, not guiding, just holding you there.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake’s focus shift upwards, past you, to Heeseung’s face. It wasn’t a casual glance. It was intense, almost… appreciative? Hungry?

You saw the way Jake’s lips parted slightly, his breath catching as he watched Heeseung’s jaw tighten, his dark eyes hooded with pleasure as you took him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth.

You pulled back slightly, gasping for breath, a thin string of saliva connecting your lower lip to his cock. Jake’s thumb brushed it away, his touch gentle, but his eyes darted back up to Heeseung’s face.

Heeseung let out a low, rough chuckle, his fingers tightening almost painfully in your hair. "See something you like, Jakey?" he murmured, his voice thick with arousal and amusement.

Jake flushed, a deep pink spreading across his cheekbones, but he didn’t look away. Instead, his gaze dropped pointedly, lingering on the thick base of Heeseung’s cock where it disappeared into your mouth, then slid back up to Heeseung’s eyes.

"Just admiring the view," Jake breathed, his voice huskier than usual. The sweetness was still there, but layered with something else. "She looks so pretty taking you." It wasn’t just an observation; it felt like offering praise to Heeseung.

Heeseung grunted, a sound of pure satisfaction. His hips gave an involuntary little thrust, nudging deeper into your mouth. "Doesn't she?" he agreed, his voice dark with pleasure. "Such a good girl for me. Now, deeper."

He pushed your head down firmly, forcing you to take more of him. You gagged reflexively, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the thick shaft stretched your throat.

Above you, Heeseung groaned, a deep, primal sound that vibrated through his chest. Jake’s hand on your jaw tightened slightly, his breath hitching as he watched you struggle. His gaze flickered again, unmistakably, to Heeseung’s face, captivated by the raw pleasure etched there.

You saw the answering tension in Jake’s own body, the way his cock twitched against your arm.

"Look at her," Heeseung growled down at Jake, his voice rough.

"Look how she chokes on it. Takes it like she needs it." His free hand slid possessively down your spine, over the curve of your ass. "Feel how wet she is for us."

As if obeying Heeseung’s command, Jake’s hand left your jaw. His fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, then cupped your bare breast. His touch was reverent, kneading the soft flesh, rolling your aching nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

But his eyes… they kept lifting. Watching Heeseung’s face contort with pleasure as he fucked your mouth in shallow, demanding thrusts. Watching the powerful flex of Heeseung’s thighs.

Jake leaned closer, his lips brushing your temple. "He’s so big, isn’t he?" he murmured, his voice thick with arousal. "Filling you up." His other hand slid down your trembling belly, his fingers dipping low, brushing through the slick curls between your thighs.

He found your clit immediately, swollen and throbbing. His touch was expert, circling the sensitive nub with just the right pressure, making you whimper around Heeseung’s cock. Pleasure sparked, sharp and electric, coiling deep in your belly.

"God, yes," Jake breathed against your skin, his own breath ragged. His gaze flickered up again. "Heeseung… look how wet she gets for you." He pressed harder on your clit, a delicious, tormenting rhythm.

"Feel that?" He slid two fingers easily inside you, curling them upwards, finding that spot that made your vision blur. You moaned helplessly around Heeseung’s cock, the vibrations drawing a ragged groan from him.

Heeseung’s thrusts became harder, faster, losing their rhythm as he chased his own peak. He watched Jake’s fingers disappear into your wet heat, watched Jake’s rapt expression fixed on him. "Make her come, Jake," Heeseung commanded, his voice strained, guttural. "Make her come sucking my cock."

Jake obeyed instantly. His fingers pistoned inside you, his thumb pressing firmly on your clit. The combined sensations—Heeseung’s thick cock stretching your mouth, the rough grip in your hair, Jake’s fingers plunging deep and rubbing that perfect spot—sent you hurtling over the edge.

Your orgasm ripped through you, silencing your moans into a choked gasp as your body convulsed, clamping down hard on Jake’s fingers. Stars exploded behind your eyelids.

Heeseung felt your throat clenching around him. With a final groan, he shoved himself deep, holding your head hard against him. Hot pulses of cum flooded your mouth, thick and salty, spilling over your tongue and down your chin.

You swallowed desperately, gagging slightly. Above you, Heeseung shuddered, his release echoing yours. His grip on your hair loosened slightly, but he didn't pull away, letting you feel the last weak pulses against your tongue.

Jake’s fingers slowed their frantic pace inside you, gentling as your tremors subsided. He was breathing hard, his forehead pressed against your shoulder. His eyes, when he lifted his head, were fixed on Heeseung’s face again, watching the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through him, watching the slick head of Heeseung’s cock slide slowly from your swollen lips.

There was awe in Jake’s gaze, a fierce satisfaction… and something unmistakably covetous. He licked his own lips, his own erection still painfully hard against you.

The taste of Heeseung’s release still coated your tongue, thick and musky, mingling with your own ragged breaths as you knelt on the plush rug. Your body still trembled from the aftershocks of your own climax, your inner muscles clenching rhythmically around Jake’s fingers, which remained buried deep inside your slick heat.

Heeseung had finally released your hair, his softening cock glistening wetly as he took a half-step back, his chest rising and falling heavily. His dark eyes, however, weren't on you anymore. They were locked onto Jake with a predatory intensity, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Jake’s gaze met Heeseung’s, that unspoken heat crackling between them again. Slowly, deliberately, he withdrew his fingers from your pulsing core. They emerged slick and glistening in the dim light. He brought them to his lips, never breaking eye contact with Heeseung, and sucked them clean with a low groan. The sight sent a fresh jolt of pure need through your already overwhelmed system.

"Your turn, Jake," Heeseung stated, his voice rough but commanding, devoid of any lingering softness. He reached down and gripped your hip, his fingers digging in possessively as he effortlessly pulled you backwards, away from the damp spot on the rug and closer to the edge of the low sofa. "Put her on her back. Let’s see you take what you’ve been staring at."

Jake didn’t hesitate. The sweetness was still present in the curve of his lips as he looked down at you, but his eyes burned with a newfound ferocity. His hands slid under your arms, hauling you up with surprising strength. He guided you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the plush sofa cushions.

"Easy now," he murmured, his voice a husky rasp against your ear as he lowered you down onto your back. The velvet felt cool against your flushed skin. He positioned himself between your thighs, spreading them wider with his knees.

His cock, rigid and flushed an angry red, nudged insistently against your dripping entrance. His eyes, though, flickered upwards again, towards Heeseung.

Heeseung had settled onto the coffee table directly in front of you, leaning back on his palms, his legs spread casually. The perfect vantage point. His gaze was fixed on the juncture of your bodies. "Go on," he urged Jake, his voice a low growl of encouragement. "Show me how bad you want it. Show me how well she takes it."

Jake took a shuddering breath. One hand braced himself on the sofa beside your head, the other guided the thick head of his cock to your soaked opening. He pressed forward slowly, inexorably. You gasped as he breached you, the stretch delicious and familiar yet always overwhelming.

Jake’s eyes fluttered shut for a second as he sank deeper, a groan escaping his lips. Then his eyes snapped open, seeking Heeseung’s face again, as if drawing strength or permission from his gaze.

He began to move. Long, deliberate strokes, sliding almost all the way out before thrusting back in to the hilt. Each inward plunge drew a breathy gasp from you, each withdrawal left you achingly empty for a split second.

The friction was exquisite, the fullness divine. Jake’s rhythm was smoother than Heeseung’s demanding pace, but no less powerful. His hips pistoned steadily, driving into you with a focused intensity that belied his usually easygoing nature.

"Look at her," Heeseung commanded Jake, his voice thick with arousal and approval. His own gaze was glued to where Jake’s cock disappeared into your glistening folds, then back to your face contorted with pleasure.

"Look at how her pretty little cunt grips you, Jake. Sucking you in so tight." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming. "She’s made for it, isn’t she? Made to take cock."

Jake groaned in response, his thrusts gaining speed. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he watched you arch beneath him. "God, yes," he panted. "So wet... so fucking tight." His eyes darted again to Heeseung, hungry for the older man’s reaction.

"Faster," Heeseung ordered softly. His hand reached out and gripped Jake’s bicep as he drove into you.

"Harder. Don’t hold back. Make her feel it." His praise was laced with command, stoking Jake’s fire. "That’s it. Fuck her like you mean it. See how she takes it? See how her tits bounce? Perfect little fuckdoll."

Spurred on by Heeseung’s words, Jake obeyed. His hips snapped harder, faster. The force of his thrusts drove you deeper into the cushions, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin filling the room alongside your gasps and Jake’s ragged breathing.

Every plunge hit deep, grinding against that sensitive spot inside you with relentless accuracy. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly, a wildfire threatening to consume you.

"Heeseung…" Jake gasped out between thrusts, his voice strained. He was pleading.

"I see," Heeseung purred, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. He shifted slightly on the table, his own arousal visibly stirring again despite his recent release. His hand slid down from Jake’s bicep to grip Jake’s hip firmly, guiding his rhythm for a moment.

"Look at that sweet ass working," he murmured to Jake, his eyes raking over Jake’s tensed backside. "Pumping into her like a damn piston." Then he looked down at you, his gaze possessive and approving.

"And look at her. Taking that thick cock like a champion. Look how well she opens up for you, Jake." He reached down with his free hand and roughly pinched one of your hard nipples, sending a sharp jolt through your already overstimulated nerves. "Good girl. Such a good little cocksleeve."

Jake’s relentless pounding deep inside you, Heeseung’s searing touch on your breast and nipple, and the raw, explicit praise washing over you from both sides. You felt utterly claimed, used, and exalted all at once. Your climax roared up without warning, a tidal wave crashing through you.

Your back arched violently off the cushions as a broken cry tore from your throat, your inner walls clamping down hard around Jake’s driving cock in rhythmic spasms.

"Fuck!" Jake shouted, his rhythm faltering as he felt your tight channel convulse around him. His eyes flew wide open, locking onto Heeseung’s face with desperate intensity as he felt his own release surge.

"Yes!" Heeseung hissed, tightening his grip on Jake’s hip, urging him deeper. "Give it to her! Fill that greedy little pussy up! She’s earned it!"

With agroan that sounded almost pained with pleasure, Jake slammed into you one final time and buried himself to the hilt. You felt him pulse powerfully within you, thick ropes of hot cum spilling deep into your clenching core.

He collapsed forward slightly, bracing himself on his forearms beside your head, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your neck. His eyes were squeezed shut for a moment before they fluttered open, seeking Heeseung’s face one last time as he rode out the final tremors.

Heeseung met his gaze, a slow, feral smile spreading across his face. He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours and Jake’s. His eyes moved from Jake’s sweat-slicked brow down to where their bodies were still joined, Jake softening inside you.

"Perfect," Heeseung murmured, the word heavy with primal satisfaction. "Both of you." His thumb brushed your lower lip again, smearing traces of himself still lingering there. "Now…round two?"

"Fuck, Heeseung," Jake breathed, his voice rough. "You gonna... gonna fuck her now? While I watch?" The thought sent another jolt through you, a delicious throb echoing his words. Your fingers gripping the couch.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, your own breathing shallow and quick as Heeseung approached and guided Jake backwards onto the edge of the couch beside you. His cock leaving your pussy with a pop. Jake landed with a soft thud, legs instinctively spreading, his gaze locked on Heeseung’s face—a mixture of awe, apprehension, and pure, molten need.

"No," Heeseung murmured, his voice a low, velvet rasp that sent shivers down your spine and made Jake whimper. His eyes locked onto Jake’s, holding him captive.

"Think I’m gonna fuck you instead, Jakey. Right here. Right now." He leaned in. "That alright with you, baby? You want my cock?"

The effect was instantaneous, electric. A visible shudder wracked Jake’s frame. His eyes flew wide, pupils swallowing the irises into pools of pure black need. His breath hitched, then came out in a ragged groan as his cock thickened obscenely.

Jake didn’t speak; words seemed beyond him. Instead, he nodded frantically, his hips pushing forward again.

The raw vulnerability in Jake’s expression, mixed with pure, unadulterated lust as he surrendered to Heeseung’s dominance, was the most potent aphrodisiac you’d ever witnessed. Your own skin felt too tight, every nerve ending alight, your mouth dry as you watched Heeseung claim his prize.

Heeseung didn’t ask. One hand sliding possessively around the back of Jake’s neck, the other finding the curve of his hip. Jake gasped, a sharp intake of breath that melted into a low, needy sound as their mouths crashed together. It wasn’t gentle.

It was raw, hungry. Teeth scraped lips, tongues tangled in a wet, desperate dance. Heeseung’s broad shoulders blocked part of your view, but you saw the flex of his back muscles, the way his fingers dug into Jake’s flesh. Jake’s hands flew up, one clutching at Heeseung’s bicep, the other tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

The wet, slick sounds of their mouths moving together filled the room, punctuated by ragged breaths. The air crackled with a current of pure lust, and you felt your own nipples tighten painfully, your core clenching around nothing, slickness gathering once again with Jake's cum inside you.

Jake finally tore his mouth away, gasping, lips swollen and glistening. His chest heaved, his eyes dark with desire as they flickered towards you, then back to Heeseung.

Heeseung’s gaze, heavy-lidded and predatory, slid slowly from Jake’s flushed face down the lean lines of his body, lingering pointedly on his hard cock.

A slow, dangerous smile curved Heeseung’s lips, one that promised sin. His hand slid down from Jake's hip.

"Shh, Jakey," Heeseung murmured. He cupped Jake’s cheek, thumb brushing the high curve of his cheekbone. "Gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart."

Jake's cock was weeping but Heeseung’s focus wasn’t there yet. His gaze traveled lower, possessive and assessing. He reached for the small bottle of lube discarded earlier near the cards. The slick, wet snick as he popped the cap open echoed loudly in the charged silence.

"Gotta get you ready for me, baby," Heeseung breathed, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. He warmed it for a moment, his eyes never leaving Jake’s flushed face.

"You trust me?" Jake nodded frantically, biting his swollen lower lip.

"Good boy," Heeseung praised, the words honeyed smoke curling in the air. "Such a good boy for me." That simple praise seemed to liquefy Jake further; a full-body shudder racked him, a low groan escaping his parted lips.

Heeseung’s slicked fingers traced a slow, teasing path down Jake’s inner thigh, then circled the tight furl of muscle hidden between his cheeks. Jake jerked, a sharp gasp tearing from him.

"Easy," Heeseung soothed, leaning down to press a kiss against Jake’s trembling stomach.

"Just relax. Let me in." His fingertip pressed against the resisting ring of muscle, applying gentle, insistent pressure. Jake tensed, eyes squeezing shut, but Heeseung kept murmuring, "That’s it… good… so good for me… just breathe, Jakey."

The resistance gave way with a soft, wet give. Heeseung’s first finger slid slowly inward, past the tight clench. Jake cried out, a strangled sound of shock and intense sensation, his hands scrabbling blindly against the sheets.

Heeseung curled the finger inside him, searching gently. "Fuck, you’re tight," he groaned, his own arousal evident. "But you’re taking it so well… perfect good boy…"

The sight, the sounds—Heeseung’s broad shoulders flexing as he worked Jake open with such focused gentleness, the soft praise falling from his lips, Jake’s trembling surrender, the slick, rhythmic sound of Heeseung’s finger pushing in and out—it was too much.

Your own need roared back, a demanding throb deep in your belly, your pussy still sensitive and slick from Jake’s earlier possession. You couldn't stop yourself.

Your hand slid down, fingers finding your soaked pussy. A shuddering gasp escaped you as you pressed your fingertips against your swollen clit.

The sensation was electric, almost painful in its intensity after the heightened arousal of watching. You pressed harder, rubbing slow circles, mimicking the rhythm Heeseung was setting inside Jake.

Your eyes remained glued to the scene before you: Heeseung adding a second slick finger alongside the first, stretching Jake wider. Jake arched off the couch, a guttural moan ripped from his throat, his cock twitching violently against his stomach. "Oh God… Heeseung… fuck!"

"Shh, baby, I got you," Heeseung murmured, his voice thick with lust and that maddening gentleness. He scissored his fingers carefully, stretching Jake’s tight heat.

"Taking me so good… gonna feel so full soon… my perfect good boy." He leaned down, kissing Jake’s hipbone, his tongue tracing the sharp edge.

You couldn't suppress your own whimper. Your fingers slipped finding your bare, dripping folds. You were so swollen, so achingly sensitive. The first direct touch of your fingertips against your slick, hot flesh sent sparks up your spine.

You plunged two fingers inside yourself with a choked cry, your body clenching hard around them, mirroring Jake’s tightness. The friction was delicious torture.

You watched Heeseung’s fingers pump deeper into Jake, watched Jake writhe and beg with broken cries, heard Heeseung’s low, praising growls, and your own fingers worked frantically against your clit, circling the swollen bud, your hips rocking desperately against your own hand.

The pleasure was a counterpoint to the voyeuristic heat, your own climax building rapidly, fueled by the raw intimacy unfolding mere feet away—Heeseung claiming Jake with tender dominance, Jake yielding completely, and you, lost in the feverish current, touching yourself to the symphony of their gasps and the slick, wet sounds filling the heavy night.

The slick schlick of Heeseung’s fingers withdrawing was obscenely loud. Jake whimpered, his body trembling with oversensitivity and desperate want. Heeseung didn’t make him wait. He rose to his feet, towering over Jake sprawled on the couch.

The sheer size of Heeseung, combined with the raw intent in his eyes, made Jake’s breath hitch audibly. Heeseung grabbed a pillow, shoving it firmly under Jake’s hips, lifting him, exposing him utterly.

"You ready, Jakey?" Heeseung’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble, stripped of its earlier gentleness, replaced by pure, unadulterated hunger. He slicked himself with a handful of lube, the sound thick and wet. He didn’t wait for an answer.

Positioning himself, the broad head of his cock pressed against Jake’s stretched, glistening entrance. "Gonna fuck you now. Gonna fuck you hard."

With a single, powerful thrust of his hips, Heeseung sheathed himself to the hilt.

Jake’s scream tore through the room—a raw, shattered sound of pure ecstasy and shock. His back arched violently off the bed, his eyes rolling back, his mouth gaping in a silent cry before another guttural moan ripped free.

Heeseung didn't pause. He pulled back almost entirely, leaving Jake gasping and clenching around nothing, then slammed back in with brutal, piston-like force.

"Fuck!" Jake cried out, his voice breaking. "Heeseung—!"

"Is this it?" Heeseung growled, his voice rough, punctuating each word with another deep, driving thrust that rocked Jake's entire body on the mattress. His hands gripped Jake’s hips hard enough to bruise, holding him steady as he pounded into him relentlessly.

The wet, rhythmic slap of skin-on-skin filled the room, a relentless drumbeat of possession. "This what you wanted? All those fucking looks you been giving me? Those shy glances, that little smirk… You wanted me buried deep inside you, didn't you? Wanted me to own this tight little hole?"

Each thrust drove the breath from Jake’s lungs. He couldn't form words, only primal sounds: choked sobs, gasping moans, high-pitched whines that climbed higher with every brutal penetration. His cock bounced against his stomach, leaking profusely, untouched and achingly hard.

Tears gathered at the corners of his squeezed-shut eyes, streaking down his temples. He was completely lost, utterly wrecked by the force of Heeseung's possession.

"Answer me!" Heeseung commanded, snapping his hips forward with punishing speed. The bed groaned beneath them.

"Yes!" Jake screamed, his voice ragged, his body convulsing. "Yes! God, yes! Wanted— wanted you! Always! Fuck me! Please—!" His words dissolved into incoherent babbling, his hands clawing at the sheets.

Heeseung watched him, eyes dark with savage satisfaction. "Yeah, that's what I thought," he grunted, his rhythm never faltering. He angled his hips slightly, driving deeper with each thrust, seeking and finding the spot that made Jake see stars.

Jake’s cries shifted, becoming higher, more desperate, his entire body tensing like a coiled spring.

"Gonna cum?" Heeseung snarled, his own control fraying, his thrusts becoming ragged, brutal. "Cum for me, Jakey. Show me how good my cock makes you feel."

It was too much—the relentless pounding, the possessive words, the sheer overwhelming force of Heeseung filling him completely. Jake’s back arched impossibly high, his mouth open in a silent scream, and then he was coming, untouched, a violent eruption that painted thick, pearly stripes across his own heaving stomach and chest.

His body clamped down viselike around Heeseung’s cock, milking him desperately as wave after wave of ecstasy tore through him, leaving him shuddering and gasping, utterly shattered.

Heeseung groaned, a deep, visceral sound ripped from his chest as Jake’s tight convulsions pushed him over the edge. But he didn't cum inside him. With a final, powerful thrust that drew a broken sob from the spent Jake, Heeseung pulled out abruptly, his cock slick and gleaming, pulsing furiously.

His gaze, sharp and commanding, snapped to you. "You," he rasped, his voice thick with impending release. "Both of you. Kneel. Now. On the floor."

The command brooked no argument. Jake, still trembling and gasping, eyes dazed, clumsily rolled off the couch, landing on shaky knees beside you. You scrambled down beside him, the rug scratching your bare knees, your own arousal forgotten in the face of his overwhelming dominance.

You knelt side-by-side, facing Heeseung’s cock, bobbing mere inches from your faces, dripping Jake’s release and his own precome.

Heeseung wrapped a big hand around the base of his cock, the thick veins straining under his fingers. "Open," he ordered, his voice rough. "Both of you."

You tilted your head up, mouths opening instinctively. Jake did the same beside you, his lips still swollen from kissing, his eyes unfocused. Heeseung guided the slick, purple head towards Jake’s mouth first, pressing it against his parted lips, smearing precome across them.

"Suck," he commanded Jake. Jake obeyed weakly, tongue flicking out to taste him. Then Heeseung pulled back slightly and pressed the head against your own waiting lips. The salty tang flooded your mouth as you instinctively licked the sensitive underside.

He didn't let either of you take him deep. Instead, he used you both, sliding the slick, throbbing head back and forth between your mouths in short, jerking strokes. His breathing was harsh, ragged, his hips thrusting shallowly into the wet warmth your mouths offered together.

The lewd, wet sounds mingled with Jake’s soft whimpers and your own choked breaths. Heeseung’s fingers tightened on his cock, his knuckles white. His eyes blazed down at you both, kneeling before him like supplicants.

"Gonna paint those pretty faces," he growled, the words thick and strained. "Mark you both as mine."

His hips jerked forward hard one final time. A hot, thick rope of cum shot across Jake’s cheekbone, painting a stark white stripe against his flushed skin. Another pulse landed across your forehead, warm and viscous. Then another stripe on Jake’s chin, dripping down towards his neck.

Another splatter hit your nose and lips. Heeseung groaned, a low, animal sound of pure satisfaction as he continued to pump thick, creamy jets onto your upturned faces, painting you both with his release, marking you thoroughly.

Finally, he stepped back, his cock still semi-hard, glistening. He surveyed his handiwork: Jake knelt beside you, trembling, eyes closed, streaks of white decorating his tear-streaked, flushed face, dripping onto his bare chest.

You beside him, panting, your face similarly slicked, the salty tang heavy on your lips. The humid air clung to the scent of sex and sweat and cum.

Heeseung looked down at you both, a slow, possessive smile spreading across his face. "Good," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.

"Real good." He reached down, rough fingers tracing a line through the mess on Jake's cheekbone before doing the same on yours, smearing it possessively. "My good sluts" He stepped back, leaving you both kneeling on the worn rug, cum-slicked and utterly owned, the heavy silence broken only by the frantic hammering of your own hearts.

[impishjesters]

Hello!! I saw your post for K-pop demon hunters and I was wondering if you would write something for baby saja?

Maybe just how him and reader meet at the market. I give full creative control I don’t usually do request so not sure what to ask. But I love you works and the way you write! Thank you if you don’t do this it’s chill <3

Meeting Baby Saja at the store

CW(s): none A/N: I went into writing so confidently and immediately crashed out, this isn't great, but I'm still gonna post it ;w; Also my brain forgot how to English and I mistook market as store, I'm pretty sure you meant when the Saja boys first showed up (like in the gif), my bad...

If someone told you that your sudden trip to the nearest store would result in you getting to meet one of the Saja boys, you’d have called them a liar. What would one of them be doing here?

Shopping, of course. It’s a store…

And if that person said that a Saja boy would take an interest in you? You’d call them delusional.

What you didn’t expect was for it to be Baby. At first, you almost didn’t even recognize him with the hood pulled up over his head and the colour palette change in his clothing. And by the looks of things, he was struggling to pick between several different types of ramyeon.

Trying not to be a creep about it, you watch Baby struggle, his eye twitching like he’s trying to contain his irritation. You take a quick glance around and find the aisle empty aside from the two of you, and in the hardest attempt to stay completely normal, you approach him.

Too invested in the packs of ramyeon in front of him, Baby doesn’t seem to notice your approach until you clear your throat to catch his attention. Any hints of irritation on his face are immediately gone, and that iconic, cute baby face smile is directed at you. His mouth opens to greet you, but you’re faster and point at the packs of ramyeon in his hands.

“If you’re looking for spicy ramyeon, that one’s not very spicy. I suggest this one.”

Baby watches closely as you grab a different pack of ramyeon from the shelf and hold it out to him. “You like spicy stuff, right?” It’s a dumb question, you know he does. You’ve seen the hot sauce chugging contest the Saja boys took part in. Even thinking about it gives you heartburn… eugh…

“Mhm.” He hums in reply, the deep tone sending chills down your spine, and returns the packs in his hand to the shelf before taking the one from your hand. “I don’t think I’ve tried this one before.” Baby eyes the packaging before turning his attention back to you.

You swallow almost nervously, struggling to maintain eye contact before using the packs of ramyeon as a distraction. “Aha! Yeah, there are so many brands.” You chuckle nervously, eyes scanning the packets before you grab another one. “I’ve heard this brand is good too.”

Unseen to you, the corner of Baby’s mouth turns up slightly, a brief smirk on his mouth before it disappears into his usual cutesy smile. “Oh? Do you like spicy stuff too?” He asks, leaning closer to you, almost shoulder to shoulder as he eyes the brand in your hand.

He watches your nose scrunch up cutely at the question, telling him all he needed to know.

“I don’t hate it.” You murmur, having yet to process how close the idol is to you. “My spice tolerance is fairly low… I get heartburn.” You confess.

Baby lets out a small snicker too close to your ear, and that’s when you realize just how close he is. He watches you death grip the poor ramyeon in your hand, plastic crinkling just barely loud enough to cover up the sound of you breaking the brick of noodles. Just as quick as before, the smirk comes and goes.

He’s had fans act similarly before, but on a much grander scale. Other people would’ve come up to him, asking for photos or autographs—which was okay—before quickly getting on his nerves. Baby doesn’t remember fans getting on his nerves in the past, but you? He can smell the excitement and anxiety just rolling off of you, and he can’t help but almost commend your strength to try and play it cool.

Which you’re failing to do, truthfully…

Deciding to play nice, Baby takes the now broken pack of ramyeon from your hand and gives the pack a gentle wiggle. The two halves of noodles cause the bag to flop slightly with each movement. “Any other good ones?”

You cringe at the noise the package makes, a pang of guilt hitting you at the broken noodles. At least it’s still edible. Thankful for the breathing room, your shoulders relaxed a little more at the question, grateful to pass over this embarrassing little moment. “Oh, um…”

Turning your attention back to the various brands of ramyeon, you idly point out a few that were supposedly good. “People on social media seem to agree that this one is super spicy. There’s a trend of people trying to use the whole sauce packet without needing cheese or milk to try and combat the spice.” You cringe again, staring at the package. “Which is pretty stupid in my opinion, I don’t see the fun in feeling like you’re dying from spicy foods.” You quietly tack on.

Baby’s shoulders briefly rise up and down with a silent laugh before tossing the two packs of ramyeons he had in his hands into your empty basket. He watches your eyes quickly focus on the basket before looking up at him, and he gives you a quick pout. “I didn’t grab a basket, I’ll buy it. Promise.” In truth, Baby tossed the items into your basket as an excuse to keep you close by; you’ve caught his interest after all.

He watches you scrunch your nose cutely again and quickly plucks a few of the rameyons you recommended and tosses them into the basket to avoid letting you try to get away, not that it seemed like you would.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes for some reason, a small smile finding its way on your lips. “Fine…”

Baby grabs a few other packs of noodles in varying spice levels and tosses them into your basket; you can only assume it’s for the other Saja boys. He throws in a pack of ramyeon that on the surface doesn’t look spicy, but you know better, and there’s a sneaking suspicion that’s the intention.

You almost feel bad for whoever eats those. Almost.

Not wanting to part just yet, Baby quickly pulls together a plan to borrow more of your time. He places his arm behind your back, just shy of touching you, as he gently herds you to start walking. “Mind helping me find a few other snacks?”

[sturnioz]

fratboy!art had a straightforward routine during his work. he always expected to be alone, just him and his artwork, yet he never expected it to be broken by bsf!nick and his camera.

despite being an ambivert, art had always preferred being alone—especially when it came to his studies.

he's not really the type to venture out of his comfort zone just to make friends or even acquaintances, and he isn't the type to strike up a conversation with someone he hardly knows if he wasn't in the right mood... which, to be fair, he usually isn't 80% of the time.

in class, he always sits near the back, tucked away from everyone else with his earphones plugged in and music turned up, using the noise not just to block out the chatter around him, but as a quiet signal of 'i'm here to focus on my work'.

art wouldn't call himself the smartest kid—no, that title definitely went to his older brother—but he knew where his strengths lay. he's talented and confident within his artistic abilities.

maybe it was destiny for him to be so gifted in that particular department? or maybe it was his name that gave him that power? if that were the case, he supposed he owed his parents a huge 'thank-you' for writing that down on his birth certificate. 

the studio is quiet today like usual, save for the faint rhythm of a song pulsing through art’s earphones as he stands alone in front of a large canvas with a paintbrush in hand, completely immersed in the colours that blend beneath his careful strokes. paint has covered his fingers, streaking up his wrists and dotting across in forearms. some have dried and cracked, others still wet and smudged across his skin. 

he didn’t notice. he rarely ever did. 

the music that blasted in his ears—something instrumental—flooded his thoughts, helping him stay focused and locked into the piece in front of him. every stroke of his brush is deliberate, like muscle memory, and he barely blinks or looks down as he cleans the bristles of his brush to dip it into another colour from the palette resting in his palm. 

but then, a sudden flash flits across his canvas and he flinches, finally blinking as he slowly turns toward the source, his brush hovering mid-air with a small drop of paint clinging to the tip. his gaze lands on someone lingering in the doorway of the studio, a camera held up to their face, the lens pointing directly at him.

art’s eyebrows furrow a little as he lowers the palette onto the table beside him to tug out one earbud, staring at the strange with a quiet and questionable look. 

“what are you doing?” he asks, tone flat and riddled with accusation.

yet, when the camera finally drops from the culprit's face, art realises that this person is, in fact, not a stranger. art knows him. well, knows of him—courtesy of the same two-faced frat boys art is housing with. nick, art remembers his name, is their older triplet brother; the one who frequently shows up in instagram posts made by the boys, or even by the girls.

art has never met him, but somehow, he knows just enough.

“nothing,” nick replies with a huff as he adjusts the settings on his camera. “what does it look like i’m doing?”

“you took a picture of me.”

“so you do have eyes, that’s a relief,” art doesn’t react to the sarcastic tone nick uses, he just stares—calm and unbothered—as nick lifts a brow, fiddling with his lens. “and for the record, i was taking a picture of the painting. not you.”

art stays quiet for a moment, his gaze steady. then he asks, “am i in the photo?” 

nick shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, “don’t know. probably—it’s lifestyle photography after all.” 

“then you took a picture of me.” 

nick glances over at art, his lips twitching slightly as his eyes narrow before he exhales exaggeratedly, “okay, fine, whatever. technically, you’re in the shot. but it’s not like i’m printing it out and hanging it over my bed or anything. It’s just… the lighting was good, the colours were popping—all very dramatic.” 

“uh-huh.”

nick tilts his head as he stares at art, drinking him in. “you are kinda splattered in paint and you look all brooding, so it works. might give me a decent grade, y’know?”

art reaches for a rag and starts to wipe his forearms clean, his own gaze unmoving. “ask next time.”

nick raises a brow, amused. “oh? so there will be a next time?"

art doesn't respond to that, he just turns back to his canvas and picks up his brush, resuming in painting as if nick's presence wasn't still lingering in the doorway. he doesn't put his earphone back in either, and he isn't entirely sure why as that would've been the easiest way to end the conversation—cutting the thread and retreating back into his world again.

but doing what would've meant he wouldn't have heard what nick said next.

"painting's nice, by the way," there's a pause, then the faint sound of footsteps retreating. "artist too, i guess."

divider credits. @/enchanthings.

© STURNIOZ est 2025 𐔌 . all rights reserved.

[obfuscateyummy]

Fresh Out the Slammer

Andrew Cody x F!Reader

SO I had this idea pop into my head - and it got out of hand and I wrote ~2.3k words and this is the result. with more to come because I can only write series :') Fic title from the Taylor Swift song - because the thoughts I got when it came on shuffle - it's Pope coded in my brain forever now. goodbye.

I'm not the best at warnings so if I missed something lmk. TW - Age gap (reader same age as Deran, around 26-27 when the series starts. Hidden Pregnancy. Mention of drug use. not much in this fic. A lot of fluff. A lot of happy Pope - because baby deserves a happy ending. Tried to write reader as neutral as possible, but is female. Reader is mentioned to have a named sister. No use of y/n (GO ME) Spoilers if you haven't seen AK episode 2.2 (although we hate baz in this club and I HONESTLY believe it wasn't the first time he told pope that oops.) This takes place during 1.01 - as soon as Pope is paroled.

Paroled early from Folsom Prison was a good thing for most. For Pope, it caused fear. Fear that his one true fear would come true. The two of you had been together for 3 years before he went to prison. He hadn’t seen you since the day he went to prison. You never once came to visit him. There were calls. There were letters. But he needed to see your face. He needed to find out why you never came to see him.

“Mama! Push me!” Your daughter was yelling at you from her small swing set in your backyard. 

“Okay Park, one more push,” you said as you pushed your toddler. She giggled and swung her feet. The swing started to slow and you helped her off the swing. She strolled over and sat in the grass, playing with some of the toys she had outside.

You heard a soft rattle towards your gate leading to your backyard. You looked around the corner and saw him. It couldn’t be. He still had 3 more years left in Folsom. A smile crept across your face as you quickly turned your attention back to your daughter.

“Park, stay back here and play ok? Mama will be right back,” you said.

He came in the gate, closed it, and stood with his back to it. You took off and ran towards him. In that moment, you realized just how much you missed him. He just watched you, staring. It’s what he did. When you got close enough for him to speak you said, “Andrew, love! What are you-”

“I got paroled. Came straight here,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders.

“My love, I wish you would’ve told me. I would have driven up and-” You went to wrap your arms around him and kiss him.

“Why didn’t you come visit?” He asked as he moved away from you. He wanted you. But he had to confirm if his suspicions were true.

“Andrew, I wrote to you almost every day, and we talked on the phone three times a week,” you said.

Andrew shook his head, “But why didn’t you visit me, sweetheart?” 

Why didn’t you visit? The day of the bank heist that sent him to prison, you found out you were pregnant. You were going to tell him after the job. You couldn’t risk Smurf finding out without Andrew there to protect both of you. Plus, she’d hold it over Andrew’s head while he was in prison. That would have broken him. You did the only thing you thought was right. You didn’t tell him. You planned to take your daughter up when Andrew was released and have him meet her when he was out. Try and start a life away from the Cody’s. “Andrew..” You had no idea how to tell him.

“Was there someone else?” he asked sternly, but without anger.

You bit your lip. If you said no, you’d be lying - there was your daughter. If you said yes - how could you explain it. “Andrew, I-, We need to talk,” you motioned for him to come further into your yard but he stood still giving you his signature stare that drove you mad in the best way. “Before you got arrested, I-” You looked into his eyes and he looked like he was going to cry. Fuck, does he think you’re breaking up with him? You thought as tears began to form in your own eyes.

Before you could continue, small footsteps were creeping behind you. “Mommy?” Parker said.

Andrew’s eyes went wide as they darted to the small girl behind you. 

You turned around and looked at Andrew’s clone. Her bouncy and dark auburn curls and scattered freckles on her face, and hazel eyes. If you didn’t carry her for 9 months, you wouldn’t think she was even your kid.

“Yes, Park?” You asked your daughter.

Andrew instantly began to do the math in his head. He didn’t think she could be much older than 2. There had to have been someone else. The math was right, but no, she couldn’t be his, he thought. No one would want to have a kid with him. Baz had told him that before, and he’d likely tell him until the day he died.

You speaking again is what brought Andrew back to reality. “Yeah, let’s go inside,” you said as the toddler nodded and walked towards the door. Andrew followed you into the door, which entered into your kitchen.

“Sorry, it’s kinda a mess - toddler problems,” you said as you put some lemonade in your daughter’s sippy cup. “Here Park,”

“Thanks Mama,” she said as she walked to living room, sitting on the floor and watching whatever cartoon was left on.

You sighed as you looked at Andrew. “You can come in,” you said.

Andrew didn’t move from where he was standing. “You have a daughter?” Andrew asked. 

You swallowed hard as you spoke, “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you.” You shook your head in disbelief. After three years of hiding it, this was how he found out.

“There was someone else, wasn’t there?” Andrew said. He was hurt, you could tell by his tone. 

You walked closer to him as you spoke. “Damnit Andrew, she’s yours!” Tears started to fall, and once the words came out they didn’t stop. You said almost everything you’ve wanted to for the past 3 years. 

“I found out the day you- I had a whole fucking dinner planned. I was going to tell you that night. And instead I get Deran at my door telling me the job went sideways and you got arrested,” you looked at him as you started aggressively wiping the tears streaming down your face. “I couldn’t tell you. It would have killed you to not be here. D-Deran told Smurf I had a one-night stand because she couldn’t know, we know how that would go. Smurf, she’s never seen Parker, I don’t take her if I go around the house; they’d all figure it out the minute they saw her. Deran is the only one who knows.” 

You looked up at him, he had this look on his face you couldn’t quite read, “Fuck, I-I am so sorry, love,” you said as your legs started shaking as the cries turned into sobs. You almost fell to your knees, but Andrew caught you.

“I got you,” he said as he moved for the first time since he walked back into your home and he took you into his arms, steadying you. God, it felt so good to be back in his arms. You pulled yourself closer to him. You could feel his heart beating, the one thing that always grounded you instantly. “You sure? I mean, she’s mine…she’s ours?” He asked, like he needed you to say it.

“Haven’t slept with anyone else in 6 years, Andrew. Plus did you see her? She’s yours.” You said as you kept yourself close to him, prolonging the hug.

Andrew had no problem continuing to hold you. He missed everything about you the past 3 years he was away. He spent those 3 years fantasizing and recalling the past 3 he spent with you before he was incarcerated. He missed your scent, your smile, your soft skin, the way the two of you fit together like a puzzle in the bedroom, your lips, your hands. He placed kisses along your hairline. You swore you felt his own tears hit your forehead. “I’m so fucking sorry I left you, sweetheart. I should’ve been-” he stopped talking when you both heard a knock at your door, followed by your best friend letting himself in.

“Hey,” Deran started to say to then he saw his brother standing there, “Pope?”

You lifted your head up as you heard your best friend speak.

“‘Didn’t tell me he was getting out,” Deran said hastily and directed at you.

“She didn’t know,” Andrew said sternly to his brother. “Got paroled and drove straight here.”

“Of course you did,” Deran said. “Good to see you, brother.” He hugged Pope and turned back to you.

“So, uh, I came because-”

Deran was cut off by the sound of little feet running from the other room to him, “Unc D!” Parker said as she lifted her arms for Deran to pick her up. 

“Hey Parker, you have a good day today?” Deran asked the small child, as she nodded her head. Parker had a huge smile on her face.

“Unc D, who he?” Parker said, pointing towards Andrew.

 You sighed. Of course she asked. She was always curious about everything. 

“That’s…um…” Deran started to say, unknowing that his brother already knew the secret you had both been keeping. 

You took Parker from Deran as you spoke, “I told him.” 

Deran ran his hands across his face, “Of course you did,” he said as he rolled his eyes. An action that you ignored. 

You put Parker down and bent down to her level as you talked to your toddler, “Parker, remember when I told you that you had a daddy, and he loved you very much, but he wasn’t going to be back for a long time?” Parker nodded her head. You looked up at Andrew and motioned for him to bend down. He followed your lead. “This is your daddy.” 

Parker looked at Andrew, unsure of how to react to the shocking news. Andrew was just as nervous looking at the little girl, seeing how innocent she was. He didn’t want to fuck this up. He didn’t want her to end up like him.

“Say something,” you whispered to Andrew.

“Hey uh, Parker. I’m your dad,” Andrew said. He didn’t have to say more before Parker wrapped her little arms around his neck, hugging him. 

“Daddy,” Parker said as she hugged him.

Andrew realized in that moment just how much his heart could love someone. “I love you,” he said, as he tried not to cry.

“Love you,” Parker said.

You watched the sweet moment between your boyfriend and daughter unfold. Deran stood there and shook his head. You stood up to speak to him. “He deserves to know. We talked about this.”

“You talked, I listened. Doesn’t mean I agree,” Deran said.

“Der-” you said as he cut you off.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Deran said. 

Andrew stood up and Parker went back into the living room. He walked over to you and Deran and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your back flesh against his chest. You smiled. It was a smile Deran hadn’t seen on you in a while. One only Andrew brought out of you. Andrew started kissing your neck.

“Andrew,” you said as you wiggled for him to stop, and turned to face him. You looked up at him, “At least kiss me right,” you said as his lips met yours, for the first time since he was released. Your lips still felt like home to him. They were soft against his. And your mouth, that same taste he loved so much. He missed this, he missed you. The two of you were lost in each other. Andrew and you broke the kiss as Deran’s phone went off.

“Uh I gotta go, Smurf just texted 911.” Deran said. 

“Probably just sees that you’re here,” you said.

“I should go with you,” Andrew said, “She has to know I’m out sometime.”

“Yeah, yeah ok, come on Pope,” Deran said. He turned his attention to you. “See ya later, yeah?”

“Yeah, see ya, D. Thanks…for everything,” you said.

“Only for you,” Deran said as he walked out of the house.

You looked at Andrew, “Are you sure you want to go?”

Andrew nodded his head, “Yeah. I’ll find a way back later. Promise.”

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“Nothing will keep me away. Not from you. Not from her,” Andrew said looking at his daughter on the living room floor. She was lying down with her doll. 

“Can I…Can I tell her bye?” Andrew asked.

“Of course,” you said.

Andrew walked over to Parker. “Hey. I have to go. But I will be back later okay? I’ll see you soon.”

“Ok, Daddy,” Parker said as she sat up and hugged him. 

You smiled as you watched them. Andrew broke the hug and Parker laid back down. Andrew came back to you.

“I love watching you with her,” you whispered, as Deran honked his horn. “You better go, D can’t keep Smurf waiting.”

“Yeah, I know,” he was staring at you like he does. “I really missed you, sweetheart.”

“I really missed you too, my love,” you said as Andrew placed a quick peck on your lips as he turned to walk out the door. 

You stood by the door replaying all the events that just happened. He was out. He was home. He came back to you. You ran your fingers through your hair. You felt your phone vibrate. When you looked, you noticed it was your sister calling.

“Hey Lizzie,” you said. Lizzie was your older sister, who was on and off heroin every other day. She struggled to stay clean, but refused your help.

“Hey, uh, you’re still friends with uh, that one guy, Deran Cody, right?” Lizzie said on the other end. 

You sighed. She sounded worse than she had in a while. Asking about the Cody’s was never good. “Yeah, I’m still friends with Der-”

“Oh ok, yeah, um, I think you should uh, call him. His sister, uh, Julia, she.” 

Julia. Andrew’s twin sister. The one who was outcast from the Cody family, because no one got in Smurf’s way. You sighed as you spoke “Lizzie, what is going on?” you asked. You were annoyed with your sister and her antics.

“Juila is dead.”

[ghuleh-yep]

Chance sfw and nsfw headcanons!

Hii im so glad that a lot of you enjoyed the last thing i wrote! I know i posted a smut fic concept but to be so real i haven’t started to work on that (i got distracted making these headcanons) anyways i hope you guys enjoy this and i hope its not tooo cringe😓

Also my requests are open if anyone wishes to request something!!

Wc: 1,937

Sfw:

When spending time with Chance there’s almost no way to avoid him going on some nerdy tangent. He loves to talk about things he loves, whether it be about the most recent G&G campaign he had been working on or about you, he never seems to keep his mouth shut and that's just how you like it.

When playing G&G he gets so into roleplaying he sometimes forgets that there are other party members and not just the two of you, the other members of the party get annoyed by this habit of his but you find it so endearing.

When playing a session with Lux, Chance's patience wears thin, but with you there he tries his best to keep his composure and not lose his cool on Lux. Whenever Chance can sense he might blow up he gently grabs your hand from around his GM screen, rubbing soothing patterns into your palms, playing around with your fingers, anything to get his mind off of his not so favorite player.

When creating a new one shot or full fleshed out campaign Chance can barely hold himself back from sharing every little detail with you, whether you’re going to be playing the new one shot or not Chance wants it to be a surprise but with all of his excitement and creativity flowing through him he can’t wait to tell you about his new ideas and dialogue he has come up with.

Chance’s love languages would most likely be quality time and words of affirmations, the two of you could be in the same room doing absolutely nothing and Chance is over the moon. He loves to profess his love for you by doing long monologues about how you make his heart jump by just being there and taking interest in the things he loves.

I think he’d enjoy physical touch as well but not as much as the other two, this was already mentioned before but he likes to fidget with your hands while playing a long G&G session. When brainstorming and writing down his ideas he likes to lay down with his head on your lap or vice versa, the feeling of your soft/rough fingertips and nails scratching his scalp and twirling his short hair really does something to him.

Chance’s hugs are the best, his hold is never to lose and never too tight he knows his strength and he knows if he squeezed you a bit too hard your eyes might pop out of your skull, not like you'd mind though. The last thing you'd see and feel would be his handsome face and chest all up in your face.

He also enjoys acts of service, he takes pride in doing stuff for you. If you want something no need to even ask of him, he is already moving before you can get two words out of your mouth. Whether you ask him to create a new character sheet for you (he already has ten new ones just for you) or ask him for a shoulder massage he is at your service. Chance knows how to use his hands for your own pleasure (wink wink) he knows just the right amount of pressure to use, his hands are like a weighted blanket, soft yet so strong he always knows how to make you feel amazing after a stressful day of job hunting.

He loves to roleplay with you, it's one of his favorite pastimes (besides playing and coming up with new G&G one shots)

Chance loves to watch you do simple tasks around the house, you could be doing anything from cooking a meal or mopping the floor Chance is enamored by your beauty/handsomeness, of course he’d get a but jealous when you get distracted by a different object but who wouldn’t he has such an attractive and amazing partner, he knows that your his but that doesn’t stop him from getting that way every once in a while.

He loves to play G&G with the other objects around the house but nothing could ever beat a one on one session between the two of you, he craves your attention just knowing that you're watching his every move and listening to him intently. Knowing that all of your attention is on him he feels a sense of pride bubbling within him.

Late at night when the two of you are cuddled up on the bed, couch, or even a pillow fort Chance without fail is always telling you some sort of tale. Of course he asks if you wish to hear it, not wanting to subject you to hearing something you won’t pay attention to. If you accept his offer he’ll ask what type of tale you’d like to hear and he can come up with anything! You wish to hear something spooky and scary? Chance is cooking up the scariest storyline just for you. Something sweet and romantic? No problem! Hopefully you don’t mind if the main characters are you and himself. Whatever the tale is, Chance gets super into it, just as much as a game of G&G, he’ll use silly voices making sure you’re getting the full experience.

In almost every conversation you have with Chance he’ll almost always without a doubt slip in a pet name or two. His favorites for you are princess/prince, my king/queen, dear/dearest, honey, and if yall are feeling freaky he wouldn’t mind throwing a mistress/mister around every once in a while.

Nsfw:

We already know Chance is a freak in the sheets, that's a fact. He's into basically anything that you’re into, unless it's some crazy ass stuff like watersports he can acknowledge that others may be into it but it's just not for him. Just to give an idea of what Chance is into, here's a few of his kinks– he loves hair pulling, preferably his hair but he doesn’t mind giving your hair a tug or two if you so wish. Roleplay is a big thing for him. I think we all know that, you two could simply be roleplaying a G&G scenario and he has a hard on in his pants the whole time. He loves it when you mark him up– whether it be hickeys, biting, or scratching the hell out of his toned back his eyes are rolling to the back of his head.

Of course for your first time together it’d be pretty vanilla, he doesn’t wanna spook you with anything too crazy just yet.

Let's get it outta the way Chance is BIIIIG like lets be so honest right now he gives big dick energy and he owns it. He’s about 7.5 inches and has a good amount of girth, his tip is a pretty pink/red, his member leans a bit to the right with a slight upward curve. I genuinely don’t know if he’d be circumcised or not so that's all up to your imagination my dearest readers!

Chance likes to keep it trimmed and maintained down there with a sexy happy trail, but if you ever asked him to shave it or grow out his bush, your wish is his command. I feel like he's the typa guy to shave some designs for you down there. If you really wanted it, he’d go in with a facial razor to really make it look pretty just for you. He’d gladly do a heart, a D20, a star, a heart with the first initial of your name, truly anything the world is your oyster! He might even let you do it for him just please let him reciprocate the gesture once you’ve finished your work.

Chance is a service top, your pleasure is the reason he wakes up everyday. Whatever you could possibly want he will do just for you, want him to eat you out/ suck you off all night long? He's in between your thighs until you’re overstimulated or until you’re telling him to stop. You wish to ride him? As soon as you feel the slightest bit of exhaustion, he's using all of his energy to thrust up into you just so you can finish.

Speaking of eating you out/ sucking you off, Chance is a GOD with his mouth, this nerd knows how to use it real good. Even just offhandedly mentioning the idea of him giving you head in a random conversation or G&G session he is stopping whatever yall are doing and getting on his knees right then and there. He’d definitely be the one to suggest you sit on his face, he doesn’t care what you weigh, he is making you sit down with all of your weight. Chance could die down there and he wouldn’t have any qualms about it, if anything it’d be his dream to pass away giving you pleasure. If you tug his hair while he’s giving head or just in general he will be coming in his pants immediately, the feeling of your hands scratching his scalp and messing up his neat hair really does something to him, it makes him all jittery and excited.

He doesn’t mind if you wish to go down on him, he just rather put his mouth to use and pleasure you. But who is he to deny such an offer, he is like a whiny bitch as soon as your lips are on his sensitive tip. If you nip at his thighs while giving him a handjob he is like putty in your hands. It doesn’t take much to turn Chance into a subby whining mess, especially when you reach up to play with his chest he is a wreck.

Chance is big on foreplay, it's one of his favorite pastimes besides playing G&G and writing lore for his future campaigns. He loves how his fingers feel in you while stretching you out just so you can fit him, knowing that he’s so big he needs to prep you each time makes all the cogs turn in his head. He loves watching your face contort in pleasure when he curls his thick fingers in you, watching the way tears form in your eyes or the way your face is all flushed by the things he whispers into your ears.

Chance’s usual pace is slow and deep but if you wish for him to speed up his pace he gladly will. His pace usually depends on the position and or mood of the night/day. I feel like Chance’s favorite position would be any one where he can see your beautiful/handsome face, being able to see you fall apart because of him gets him so hard he’s twitching inside of you. I don’t think he really has a favorite body part on you, he loves all of you– all of your imperfections, everything and anything about you is his favorite.

His favorite spot to cum has to be inside of you especially when you cum with him, the feeling of you squeezing him, sucking him deeper just drives him over the edge each time.

Speaking of edge.. Edge him edge him edge him!! Taunt him when he’s getting close, use him for your own pleasure and when you can sense he's getting anywhere close to his release, by the time you're all spent he still hasn’t came once. If anything, tie him down and leave him there to suffer while you clean yourself up, once you think he's suffered enough you finally give him that sweet release.

[xocalliexo]

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ After the Show ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

pairing: 2025!Noel x girlfriend f!reader

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 702

summary: The first show for the reunion tour just ended and Noel seeks you out in his dressing room backstage, needing to get out the rest of his pent up energy and emotions.

a/n: dedicated to my lovely friend @onlygirlaliveinnyc for supporting me in getting back into writing. it's my first noel/oasis fic so I hope it's okay! any feedback and comments are greatly appreciated. mwah <3

Noel was full of energy. An energy he hadn’t felt in years. His first concert back with his brother had just ended and he was so fucking excited. Not that you could tell by his face, but he was. He knew he had people to thank, to talk to backstage. But all he could think about was you.

The two of you had been together for about a year and a half now. After his divorce, he didn’t want another relationship. Not bothered by any of it until you stumbled your way into his life. Now he doesn’t know what he’d do without you. 

Pushing his way into his dressing room, you were waiting for him. Perfect and beautiful and everything he could have asked for. You launch yourself into his arms, hugging him with an excitement that matches his. “I’m so happy for you,” you tell him, voice breaking. You know how much this meant to him. To everyone. He doesn’t answer, just holds you. Afraid of crying again, even though he knows you wouldn’t mind. Instead he lifts your chin and presses a kiss to your lips, pouring his emotions into it. You whimper, body immediately reacting to him.

You push him to sit down on the couch in the dressing room and straddle him, kissing him again. His hands find their place on your hips, not guiding you, just holding you. You shift, dragging  your core over his growing length and you both moan. He breaks the kiss and drags his mouth down your neck. “You have to be quiet, baby,” he says, voice rough. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod quickly, but you both know it’ll be hard for you to be quiet. He brings it out in you. He takes your blouse off and unhooks your bra quickly, wrapping his mouth around a nipple. You moan loudly, already forgetting about your agreement. Noel pulls away with a pop and gives you a look. “What did I say?” You look away shyly but he takes you by the chin again. “Don’t pull this shy shit with me,” he grins. “Answer me.”

You clench around nothing, grinding down on him instinctively. “I have to be quiet,” you whisper. 

Noel nods. “Good girl,” he says with a smirk, capturing your moan with a kiss. You strip him of his shirt while he pulls your skirt up and panties to the side. He strokes your slit, looking at you with awe. “Always so wet for me, angel,” he says. 

“Only for you,” you say, chasing his touch and quickly pulling his cock out of his pants. You stroke him and then sink down on his cock after a moment, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. He grins.

“Fuck yeah, only for me. My good fucking girl,” he says lowly. You ride him and he meets your pace, guiding you up and down on his cock. “Look at you,” he mocks. “Already fucked out and we’ve barely  been going.”

You pull him in for a messy kiss, partly to shut him up and partly to make sure you both stay quiet. Your shared breaths and kisses become more erratic as you both near your climaxes. Noel knows how close you are, knows all your little tells and the hitch of your breath. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Come on my cock,” he grits out. You cum, smothering the noise by burying your head in the crook of his neck. He pistons up into you, emptying himself inside of your waiting heat with a low groan.

He holds you for a moment, the two of you calming down. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, then to your temple. “Love you,” he says quietly. 

You smile, he feels it against him. “Love you too.” You look up at him and kiss him gently. Before either of you can do anything else, there’s a harsh knock at the door.

“Oi! Come on you two, stop fucking and get out here!” Liam yells and stomps off.

You and Noel look at each other and roll your eyes. As you both get cleaned up and dressed, Noel thinks he wouldn’t have his life any other way now.

[kurooh]

juno i will give you my first born child if you write brat tamer!dabi

brat tamer! dabi who decides to be kind for once. he’ll kiss you the way you like it, tongue sliding against yours just right. it’s supposed to get you hot and bothered, and it definitely works—so when you’re breathlessly reaching toward his belt, the last thing you expect is for him to stop you.

brat tamer! dabi then lets you know that he doesn’t feel like you’ve ‘earned it’, whatever that means. he’ll smirk, get up, and walk off like he didn’t just leave you high and dry (read: wet). when you follow him, complaining about being teased, he just says something like you heard me the first time, didn’t you? don’t make me repeat myself.

so while you’re standing there and trying to process that, an idea pops into your head. you decide to push back, by telling him you’re just going to relieve yourself on your own. dabi rolls his eyes, clearly amused by your little threat. it’s so funny to him that you really think you did something with that.

brat tamer! dabi’s next words are yeah? sounds like someone forgot that she needs some fuckin’ permission for that. the confrontation ends there, and frustrated, you go your separate ways. until you find a loophole later on and send him a picture of your sticky fingers, captioned with “you never said i couldn’t ask for permission from my stuffed animals”

it pisses him off, it really does—but dabi keeps a level head, though you can tell from the twitching of his lips and the sighs through his nose that he’s growing fed up with you.

when you stick your tongue out and say, i don’t need your permission. i can give myself permission or ask it from something else he just folds his arms up and looks at you like he’s trying to figure out if he wants to fuck you or spank the shit out of you.

brat tamer! dabi settles on the latter, just to draw it out. he even makes you count how many spanks you get, and he’s planning to stop after a generous ten when you’re like one .. two .. three .. sevennn… not even fucking counting in order.

he’s pissed because he’s trying his best to lean into the role, but you’re really giving him a run for his money—it’s difficult to play the game right by properly balancing what he’s supposed to do vs what he wants to do. and right now, he wants to fuck you so hard you can’t even form a sentence by the end of it.

brat tamer! dabi bites his tongue and bends you over. he’s not kind in the slightest when he’s tearing your wet panties to the side and calling you names, saying things like awww, my little whore wanted to be in charge for once, huh? keep trying, you nearly had me. he can’t keep his mouth shut when he’s fucking you either—but it doesn’t really matter, because you’re going too dumb to even understand what he’s saying.

you were feeling so brave today, weren’t you? dabi laughs, but you can barely hear him over the sounds of your own sobs. and i thought we went over how to use our words already! you don’t always have to be such a fucking brat for some attention—you’re so god damn lucky i didn’t decide to just ignore you.

so because brat tamer! dabi gave in and didn’t just let you suffer, he makes you thank him. he makes you say it over and over, until your throat is raw and your ass is stinging from being spanked so many times. you’re drooling, crying, and then, only then, does he pull out and let the cum spill down your thighs.