#but sorry I can just imagine her playing this SO LOUD

[badkitty3000]

Anon asked: (edited for length)

What would a family game night be like in the dysfunctional – who have powers and many traumas – Hargreeves family? Or Also, same scenario, a night of the Hargreeves family playing some board game –or any game- with their respective partners: Luther and Sloane, Diego and Lila, Allison and Rey, Klaus and Dave –yes, for me Klaus is happy with Dave-, Five and (let's suppose he is in an established relationship), Ben and Jennifer, Viktor and Sissy.

I only know that in both cases it could end in a big disaster and the only thing left to ask is… Who would be the first to send everything to hell? How many marriages/relationships will be put to the test? How long will it take for someone to bring up dirty laundry from the past in the middle of the game? Can you imagine if they play Monopoly Game of Thrones?

***********

A Hargreeves family game night would be a giant disaster, no doubt about it! I also think there definitely would be a scheduled monthly game night where they all get together at someone's house and take turns picking which game to play. And it ALWAYS ends terribly.

Lila would cheat, no matter what game is being played, and then half-way through she would get bored and turn on the tv or go snoop around the house if it was someone else's.

Lila poking around in Allison's bathroom cabinet: I knew that bitch used some fancy, expensive lotion, her skin looks amazing! *pockets the lotion*

Five would bitch and moan about having to participate in the first place, but then get pissed when someone wasn't following the rules

Five, standing up and waving the rule booklet in the air: It clearly states in the official Game of Life rule book that you may only own one stock at a time, UNLESS you land on the Stock Market Zooms space...which I clearly have, which means... Everyone else: *loud groaning* *throwing popcorn at him* *booing*

Luther wants everyone to get along and tries to pacify the others by suggesting they just take another turn or distracts them by bringing more food or drink.

Luther to Sloane: It's ok, honey, go ahead and roll again Five, nearly choking on his drink: Absolutely not!

Klaus just makes up whatever rules he feels like and half the time he thinks he's playing a completely different game.

Klaus: I know who did it! Colonel Mustard in the kitchen with a knife! Luther with a sigh: Klaus, we're playing Monopoly Klaus: Damn it, I thought I was winning

Sparrow Ben and Diego would get into a heated argument before they even start playing

Ben: You went first last time, asshole! Diego: Yeah, and I'm going first again because you're a little bitch!

Allison would pretend she's appalled by her siblings' behavior over a stupid game, but would secretly be rumoring them so she can win in the end

Allison to Diego: I heard a rumor you forgot you had a get out of jail free card

And then Viktor would just be sighing heavily and shaking his head, checking his watch for when he can politely leave

Viktor to Sissy: I am SO sorry

By the end of the night there is shouting, game pieces being flung around, sometimes someone gets punched in the face, but then they all pull out their planners to schedule the next month's game night

[aprillikesthings]

Oh Catra Applesauce MeowMeow, you would’ve loved this album

[proxythe]

i think simultaneous junmina and yukaham could be soooo fun..

YESS!!!!!!!! i always have trouble imagining kotone and minato both alive in the same universe (for some reason my brain just cannot wrap around it) which is crazy bc i also default to the hc that theyre twins n i draw them together a lot but anyways. none of that will stop me from picturing junpei and yukari finally finding something to bond over and it just so happens to be those emo siblings… up late at the dining table, head in their hands, wondering how this happened to them. all while minato n kotone sleeping like babies upstairs

vividly can see yukari n junpei being each others wingman (& roasting the shit out of each other) 💆 vividly can see kotone being oblivious while minato has his suspicions but he doesnt say anything anyways bc he doesnt give af 💆

[zweetpea]

Yandere batfam one shot/imagine thing

I'll probably make a part 2

You met Bruce while you were working as a waitress for a gala. It was a second job to pay rent. Maybe he brought Selina or some other girl or maybe he came alone.

Either way you two end up in a room together and end up sleeping together. Just as you’re pulling on your clothes he asks to see you again. He even offers you a check (let’s say it’s for 500k). You take the money promising to see him again but you don’t for about a year.

After a year of him searching every corner of Gotham he finally finds you. And surprise surprise you have a three month old baby girl.

He goes up to you and begs you to let him be in the baby’s life. After a few weeks of bribes (and him secretly stalking you) you finally make a deal with him. If he works from home he can take care of the baby during the day.

So you brought your baby to the Wayne Manor. You expected maybe a servant or maybe Bruce to answer the door. You were not expecting a young man to open the door. He had short shaggy black hair with an undercut and a K-pop hair style. He stared at you with his piercing blue eyes-

“Tim drake! That’s who you are! I used to love watching your let’s plays! I love your sense of humor!” Tim was surprised. Being the middle child (especially the middle boy) he often feels left behind by his siblings, so having someone notice his accomplishments for once felt nice.

“Drake. What are you looking-” a short boy came up behind the gamer. He had a darker complexion and slicked back black hair with piercing green eyes. You smiled at him and he straight up slammed the door in your and your baby’s face. Your eyes grew wide and your face fell into a scowl.

You heard shuffling from behind the door and when if opened you saw Tim holding the kid by the scruff of his collar as one would do with a misbehaving animal. “Sorry about that Miss.” Tim smiled at you. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m going to be late for work. Here give her to Bruce. Her name is Echo.” You give the baby to Tim. “Oh there you go. Support her head now.” You threw the bag in the small rude kids face. “Everything she needs is in there. I’ve left instructions inside for how to take care of her. If she doesn’t eat that much try tickling her tummy. I’ve labeled the extra bottles of her food so if she’s really hungry give her some and if it’s not enough call me I’ll get here as soon as I can. I don’t want her drinking any of that store bought crap. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.” Tim smiled.

“Good.” You ruffled his hair. Then you turned to the younger boy. “Be good to my baby ya hear? Or else I’ll milk papa Bruce for every penny I can.” You ruffled his hair too. You then kissed your baby and went back to your car.

Tim shut the door and immediately Echo started crying. Bruce and Alfred came running at the noise.

“No… I missed her.” Bruce said. He looked at his three youngest kids. “Hey sweetheart.” Bruce tried to grab Echo. But Tim held her close. Everyone looked at him surprised.

“Father why did that rude lady drop off a baby.” Damian scowled.

“She’s not rude. She’s your future Step Mother.” Bruce smiled at the thought of your and his wedding. “Now Tim, give my baby here. She’s crying.”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?” Bruce seemed flabbergasted.

“She trusted me to hold her child. This is my baby sister.”

“Drake! Give father the baby. She’s being loud.” Damian covered his ears. Echo looked over at him and made a grabby hand gesture at him.

“It looks like she wants Master Damian’s attention.” Alfred pointed out.

“but-” Tim was cut off as Damian took the baby.

Echo’s cries grew quiet as her youngest older sibling held her. While Tim’s obsession with You and Echo became apparent almost immediately, giving him the praise his own family and the Media refused to, Damian’s was slow. It started with someone (echo) actually liking him. After all he went from being showered in attention under Talia’s thumb to being practically ignored at Wayne Manor.

Dick was by far the kindest to Damian, being a mentor to the young boy. But he could still bite back at Damian’s snark. Barbara and Stephanie took none of his crap, to the point where they barely spoke to him. Cass and Duke held no qualms about fighting with a kid. Jason was like a cool big brother and while he wasn’t at the manor often he always made most of his time there focused on the kid. Tim and Damian had a very strained relationship. And while Bruce loves Damian there’s always a bit of strain, and guilt on Bruce’s part. If he’d stayed with Talia maybe Damian wouldn’t have to grow up in a cesspool of Violence and mental agony.

“Back to your old ways of not wearing protection father?” Damian smirked.

“Damian… give me my Daughter.” Bruce said gently but firmly.

“Its nice to know you fought for her more than you fought for me. Though to be fair to you Ummi did shove us together.” He snarked as he held the baby who’d fallen asleep. Bruce went to grab her but Damian stepped back. “Ah ta ta. You wouldn’t want to disturb her right?” Damian smirked.

Over the next few hours Damian was mainly the one taking care of Echo if only to stop her from crying.

And at the end of the day when you finally got off work to pick up your sweet baby you were surprised to see Bruce, Damian, and Tim all playing with her in the living room. (What was more surprising was that her attention was mainly focused on the brat from this morning Damian.) She cooed as she saw you and you rushed to pick her up and gather her things into her bag.

Damian glared at you as you took Echo from his borderline iron clad grip. Who were you to take his sister, his blood sister mind you, away form him? (Her mother but we're not going to get into that right now.)

"Sweetness how about you just slow down. I'll have Alfred prepare you a drink. Which kind of tea do you like more Earl Gray or Jasmine." Bruce smiled and twiddled a piece of your hair in his hand.

You smacked his hand away. "No thank you. My baby and I need to get home." You said and quickly hurried out of there.

"Father you can't let her leave!" Damian said.

"Yeah! Don't you want that nice lady to be your wife?" Tim agreed.

"I was talking about Echo." Damian deadpanned.

Bruce ruffled both their heads. "Patience boys. Have a little faith in your old man." He smiled as you walked away. Before the month was out he'd have you and echo safely tucked away in his arms in the deepest recesses of Wayne Manor.

[taeyongdoyoung]

daddy's home

summary: boyfriendless, jobless and hopeless, you rush to take the first opportunity you find, which is a nanny position. but the kids are not the only ones you grow fond of... pairing: seungcheol x reader genre: fluff, smut, single dad x nanny AU warnings: kids (triggering, i know), age gap (unspecified), mentions of past cheating, abandonment issues, potential therapy, male masturbation, confessions, blowjob, kissing, eating out, protected sex (unbelievable), dirty talk, size kink, pet names (sweetheart, angel, darling, little girl), sir+daddy kink, unprotected sex (with baby-making goal), breeding kink, creampie, more kids (sorry im ovulating) author's note: this is loosely based on the sitcom the nanny in that there's a single dad with three kids but minus the dead wife trope cuz that's too depressing for my tastes word count: 4.3k

You are desperate. Your shitty boyfriend cheated on you, broke up with you and you also lost your job. So it’s been a couple of terrible weeks. Now, you would take pretty much any kind of job as long as it pays enough for you to afford food and the bills. ASAP.

Single dad looks for a live-in nanny for his three kids. Full-time with Sundays off. Contact this number for more details.

Okay, truth be told, you’ve never considered yourself as someone who is good with kids. But how hard can it be? Have you mentioned you’re desperate?

“Listen, Miss L/N,” Mr. Choi, your potential future employer starts. “I appreciate your enthusiasm but I’m not just going to hire you. I’m looking for someone with experience.”

“Well, I have a bunch of nephews, if they turned out alright under my care, then I guess that counts for something,” you chuckle.

“That’s very nice but I’m talking about professional experience. Have you been a nanny before?”

“Technically, no, but how can I get experience if you won’t hire me?”

“Touché,” Mr. Choi laughs.

“How about a trial period? Let me spend some time with your kids under your supervision and prove myself capable.”

Mr. Choi nods reluctantly.

“Well, you’re in luck since my little goblins have driven away five nannies in the past month.”

Oh, dear. Five nannies…And here you were thinking this could be an easy job.

“So, what’s one more?” you chuckle nervously and Mr. Choi shakes your hand, agreeing to give you a chance.

You are excited when meeting his kids. The eldest daughter - Chaerry is 15, very elegant and polite. You think that you’ll have no problems with her and you’ll have lots to talk about. The middle child and only son - Dino is 10, extremely mischievous and loud. You’ll definitely have problems. Finally, the youngest daughter, Elsie, is 5, she’s such a cutie but leaves a mess of her toys everywhere she goes. It’s easy to trip if you’re not careful, but nothing you can’t handle.

The trial period goes by in a flash. Dino attempts to get on your nerves by pulling pranks like hiding fake spiders in your bag and spraying your outfit with ketchup, but you accept all that with an easygoing laugh. Elsie constantly asks you to play with her toys and you need an unlimited source of ideas to keep up with her wild imagination, but it feels more like fun than a job. Chaerry is quiet and doesn’t share much at the beginning but eventually tells you about this boy at school she has a crush on. So, you count that as a success.

“I must admit, Miss L/N, I had some worries at first but seeing how quickly my kids accepted you is remarkable,” Mr. Choi shares his observations with you at the end of the trial period.

“So, am I hired, then?” you beam with excitement.

“Absolutely, yes. The kids have taken a liking to you and changing nannies so often is probably not great for them, either.”

“So true. Kids need stability and I would be happy to stick around for as long as you’ll have me, Mr. Choi,” you are thrilled not only because you will have a bed to sleep, food to eat and money to spend, but because you are genuinely looking forward to spending more time with these little munchkins.

And spend time with them you do. You're not sure what exactly it is that makes the kids warm up to you, but whatever the reason, it's working.

With Chaerry, you talk about boys and high school drama and make-up. On one occasion, she tells you something that sincerely touches you.

“Thank you for being my best friend, Y/N. I know I shouldn't keep stuff from my dad, but he can be so overprotective sometimes it's difficult to talk about...well, going on dates with boys, mostly.”

“Aww, Chae, you can tell me anything. It'll be our little secret,” you give her a wink, followed by a hug.

You're not exactly sure what the correct response here is. But you'll make sure to maintain some kind of balance - both look after her safety so that Mr. Choi sleeps peacefully at night and not betray Chaerry's trust in you.

With Dino, after the initial phase of silly pranks passes, you notice that he's become more honest and calm.

“You won't leave us like our mom and all the other nannies did, will you?” he asks you one afternoon as you're watching TV together.

You haven't asked Mr. Choi what exactly happened with these kids' mother because frankly, it's none of your business, but something is telling you they're a lot more hurt than they let on.

“I'm not going anywhere, Dino,” you promise, though really, it's up to Mr. Choi to decide that.

“Good. It would really suck if you left.”

That's a lot, coming from the kid who damaged like half of your wardrobe with all kinds of sauces.

With Elsie, another strange situation takes place due to the fact that the kid has no filter.

“Let's play family!”

“Um, okay,” you agree without thinking much.

“This will be daddy,” Elsie points at a stuffed lion plushie and then grabs a tiger plushie, “And this is you, mommy!”

“Oh, honey. I'm not your mommy,” you try to explain as gently as possible.

“But can you be? Daddy says our mommy left and has a new family somewhere else.”

Okay, that's a lot to unpack here. Though you don't think it is your place, you'll need to have a conversation with Mr. Choi, because the kids obviously have some kind of unresolved trauma...

One evening, after the kids have gone to sleep, instead of going to your room, you wait in the living room for your employer to come back from work, so you can approach the subject as delicately as you can.

“Good evening, Miss L/N. Kids go to bed?” he greets you as he takes off his coat.

“Evening, Mr. Choi. Yes, they did. I was wondering if we can have a chat. It can be a sensitive topic, I'm sure, but for the sake of the kids, I think it's important.”

Mr. Choi nods and takes a seat next to you on the couch.

“About their mother...”

“I was wondering how long it'd take you to bring that up,” he chuckles bitterly. “Other nannies wanted me to spill the tea on day one.”

“Wow, seriously?”

“It's not like it's this big secret, I just prefer not to talk about it unless absolutely necessary. My ex-wife...cheated on me and got pregnant by another man, so we had a divorce and I kept the kids, because she said she wants to start anew with this other guy, and...well, the kids said this is their home and that they won't move. So, I suppose the judge took that under consideration.”

“My God. I had no idea.”

“You couldn't have known, considering I just said I don't enjoy revisiting those painful memories.”

“Yes, of course, I only meant that...I guess it explains some things. Forgive me for saying this, but I think the kids have some kind of abandonment issues. Elsie and Dino, in particular, they seem to have a fear that I'll leave just like...well, their mom and the other nannies.”

“And are you? Leaving, I mean.”

“Not if I can help it. Mr. Choi, your kids are very vibrant and precious to me. I genuinely love my job. But I'm worried that what happened with your ex-wife affected them more than they show. Maybe you should look into therapy?”

“I will definitely take that into consideration. Thank you for your candour, Miss L/N.”

“You're most welcome.”

“What about Chaerry?”

“What about her?”

“You said that Elsie and Dino express these abandonment issues. Does Chaerry not have them?”

“She probably does, but at the moment she's too busy thinking about boys.”

“Boys? At her tender age? I don't think so,” Mr. Choi immediately goes into ultra alpha protective dad mode and you honestly find it kind of funny. And hot.

“Oh, relax, Mr. Choi. It's just typical high school drama. There's nothing to be worried about.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly.

“I'm counting on you. Does it ever occur to you how quickly they grow up?”

“I suppose it's more difficult for you. I've only known them for a few months but I think I get what you mean.”

“Yeah...How strange, it feels like you've been part of this family forever.”

You try not to think too deeply about it. He...considers you part of this family. Elsie called you mommy. Dino doesn't want you to leave. And Chaerry talks to you about boys. A topic, which girls usually discuss with their mothers. Oh, sweet heavens. Maybe, this nanny gig is becoming more than a job...

One Monday Mr. Choi texts you not to come to work this Saturday, as the kids will be spending some time with their grandparents (aka Mr. Choi's parents). However, the moment you receive the text, you're too busy trying to escape from Dino who is chasing you with a water gun in the garden. So, you somehow forget to put it down in your calendar.

Saturday arrives and poor Mr. Choi thinks you'd be in your own apartment. Finally, some peace and quiet. His parents picked up the kids early in the morning to go to the park with them so he's all alone and free to do as he pleases.

But alas, you go down the stairs of Mr. Choi's enormous house and make your way to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for the kids. However, it's too quiet. Hm, how strange. Maybe, they're not awake yet? You shrug as you pour some milk and cereal in a bowl.

Oh, you hear some noise from the living room. Is that the TV? Your curiosity gets the better of you and you enter it only to find Mr. Choi in a very compromising position. He is touching himself, watching very obscene things on the big screen!

You are on the verge of chastising your boss for doing something like that in the living room, where the kids could walk in any minute, when you remember. The kids...They're with their grandparents today. Which means that...Fuck, you're not supposed to be here. You should be at your own apartment instead of being witness to...your very sexy and very single employer taking care of his needs.

You are going to sneak back into the kitchen and wait for a more appropriate time to leave the house when you hear it. At first you think you're hallucinating but then you hear it twice. Your name.

“Y/N...please, let me-” Mr. Choi moans, his eyes closed, he is unaware of your presence.

However, he doesn't get to finish his sentence because you are so shocked that you drop the bowl of cereal, which shatters on the ground with a loud noise.

“Fuck, I'm so so sorry,” you murmur nervously as your boss finally notices you watching him.

His cheeks flushed, his lips pouting, he is the most adorable you've ever seen him. He hurries to tuck his cock back into his pants and turn off the TV.

“N-no, I'm sorry...Miss L/N, what are you doing here?”

Oh, so you're Miss L/N now...Very well, then.

“I apologize. It must have slipped my mind that the kids are with their grandparents today.”

“It must have,” Mr. Choi repeats coldly, obviously embarrassed by this situation.

You wonder if you should tell him what you heard. Would that be unprofessional? But then again, he is the one who said your name, so...what is professional anyway?

“Do you want me to leave?”

He sighs deeply.

“What's the point? You already saw me...fuck, I feel so humiliated.”

“Why would you feel humiliated? Am I so undesirable that my presence immediately turned you off?” you ask bluntly.

“That's not the case and you know it.”

“I'm not sure I know anything anymore,” you admit. “You...said my name. How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“You were never meant to hear that,” Mr. Choi hides his face behind his hands, the redness refusing to leave his complexion.

“But I did. So, what now?”

“Please, don't quit. I realize that what I did is unforgivable but...the kids care about you so much, it would devastate them to lose you.”

“I wasn't even thinking of quitting. But...are the kids the only ones who care about me?” you need to know.

“No...As it so happens, I care about you.”

“So, stop hiding from me,” you don't know where that boldness comes from as you grab his wrists and remove his hands, so you can look at his face. Fuck, he's so pretty.

“You're not...grossed out by me?” Mr. Choi blinks at you in surprise.

“Kinda flattered, actually,” you confess. “But I'd like it much better if you let me take care of your frustrations.”

“You would?” he is unable to believe his luck when you drop on your knees in front of him and take him out of his pants again, engulfing his cock with your pretty mouth. “Y/N...”

The way he says your name is enough to make you even more enthusiastic, sucking him deeper and bobbing your head to the best of your abilities. He grips your hair tightly and you make sure not a drop is spilled as you swallow his cum down your throat. You wipe off your lips and sit down next to him, unsure of what to do next.

“Mr. Choi...”

“Call me Cheol, please.”

“Cheol...may I kiss you?”

Seungcheol doesn't respond and instead kisses you passionately, grabbing your face with his hands. His tongue is exploring your mouth in ways you'd never imagined could bring so much pleasure and you can't resist the urge to sit in his lap. Somehow, against all reason, he's hard again, as you grind against him. Fuck. He's so hot and sweet and amazing you just want to make him happy. How anyone could cheat on this fine man is beyond you.

“Um...not to assume or anything, but do you have a condom?” you ask sheepishly.

“I do, yes,” Seungcheol goes to his coat and brings a package.

“I mean, don't get me wrong, I love kids, but I think we should be responsible considering this is our first time together and you already have three of your own,” you're probably talking too much but oh well. Better safe than sorry.

“No, I understand. You're totally right.”

“Will you fuck me?” you inquire.

“Here? On the couch?” Seungcheol is in disbelief.

“Well...you were touching yourself here, but I guess it's whatever. Your home, after all.”

He chuckles, suddenly embarrassed again.

“Come on, let's go to my room.”

Seungcheol offers you his hand and you follow him upstairs excitedly. Is this really happening? Are you seriously going to do this with your boss?

He lifts your chin up because he notices you're not meeting his eyes out of nervousness.

“Look at me,” he commands you easily and you're on the verge of falling apart and he hasn't even undressed you yet. The power this man holds over you... “We don't have to do this if you're not ready.”

“It's not that. I do want this. It's just...I don't remember if I told you but I was also cheated on. A little before I came to work here. And like, I haven't been intimate for a while, so I'm nervous. What if I mess something up?”

“Okay, first of all, give me that asshole's address, I just wanna talk. And second of all...darling, I haven't been intimate since way before my divorce took place. Trust me, I'm a lot more nervous than you right now.”

You shake your head.

“Whatever you do, I'm sure I'll find it like super hot.”

Seungcheol laughs and tilts his head, kissing you again.

“You're so cute,” he whispers against your mouth. “I can't wait to ruin you.”

And just like that, it's as if a switch is flipped. He pushes you onto the bed and leans above you menacingly, a devilish smirk painting his pretty face. Seungcheol pushes your dress up hurriedly, touching you all over.

“You really thought you could get away with it, huh? Walking around my house in those dresses of yours looking so sexy? Tempting me?”

“N-no, s-sir,” you murmur, not knowing where the title is coming from.

“God, I'm such a cliché. An old man unable to resist the gorgeous young nanny...”

“You're not old, sir,” you try to reassure him. You're not sure if he's just engaging in dirty talk or is actually having some insecurities. He's still young in your eyes. Whatever the case, you're there for him.

“Don't lie to me, sweetheart. I'm too old for ya...I have three kids. What do you have, hm?” Seungcheol speaks while caressing your pussy through your panties.

“I have you, sir,” you smile and palm his dick teasingly.

He sighs wistfully and buries his head between your folds, licking and teasing until you're a soaking mess for him.

“S-sir, p-please...C-cheol, don't stop,” you cry out helplessly.

It feels so good, too good. He holds you down, hands gripping your thighs as you cum against his tongue. He barely gives you any time to recover as he rolls up a condom on his cock. You stare at him hungrily, impatient to have him inside of you.

Seungcheol is like the drug everyone warned you about. Once you have him, you won't be able to quit.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly in sharp contrast with his previous behaviour.

“Please take me, Cheol,” you would beg if you had to.

And take you he does, entering you deeply with his big cock.

“Fuck, you're so tight, barely fitting me in,” he speaks, stroking your clit in circular motions with his thumb, while he fucks you harshly.

“It's okay, I won't break, sir,” you try to convince him.

“What if I want you to break, little girl?” Seungcheol inquires, his voice half-joking, half-serious, as he.

“Then, I'd be happy to serve you, daddy,” the word slips from your lips before you could think twice about it.

“Daddy, huh? You need daddy to make you cum?” you are grateful he plays along instead of making fun of you in this very vulnerable moment.

“Yes, daddy, please, I'll do anything for you,” you promise in a daze.

“Cum for me, sweet girl, let daddy take care of you,” his deep voice is enough to bring you to the edge.

“Fuuuck, daddy...Cheol,” you mumble repeatedly, as white appears before your eyes.

You're shaking in his arms but it feels like flying.

“I've got you, angel, daddy's right here,” Seungcheol comforts you, as he rides out his own high, spilling inside the condom. Then, taking it off and throwing it in the garbage bin, he hurries back to you.

You make grabby hands at him and he envelops you in a hug.

“I'm here, sweetheart,” he kisses your forehead gently and you melt against his chest.

“Cheol...I think you just murdered me a little,” you laugh.

“Well, then, I better make sure I revive you, because I can't imagine my life without you.”

“Good. You ain't getting rid of me.”

“That sounds perfect because me and the kids would like you to stick around.”

“Oh God, the kids! What time are they coming back?”

“We've got time, don't worry, they should-”

“Daaaad, we're home!” you hear Dino's loud voice from downstairs.

“Fuck,” Cheol curses under his breath and the two of you hurry to make yourselves look somewhat presentable.

Once dressed and back in the living room, you can only hope that you're not too obvious about what went down. However, you can't stop yourself from glancing at Seungcheol and he's just as flustered as you.

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” Dino greets you as if it's completely normal for you to be there. As if you belong.

“How was your time with your grandparents?” you ask, trying to act casual.

“We had so much ice cream!” Elsie squeals excitedly.

“Grandma and Grandpa took us to the park,” Chaerry starts telling you about everything they did in great detail and you are glad that the shy girl you first met is becoming a confident young woman.

Elsie is asking for more ice cream but Seungcheol is explaining that it's lunch time. Dino is painting the table with mustard and honestly, that's so on brand for him...

It is funny where desperation brought you. You realize this is the happiest you've been in a while.

Later, when Seungcheol catches you alone after spending the afternoon with the kids, he asks:

“I know we kinda messed up the proper order of things, but...would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh! I'd love that, Cheol. Is it okay to still call you that?”

“Yeah, it's alright.”

“What about in front of the kids? I'm not sure to what point you'd like to mix professional with...personal life.”

“In front of the kids is okay, too,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, do you know what Elsie keeps asking me?”

“What?”

“When will you make Y/N my new mommy?”

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like something Elsie would say.”

“So, um, no pressure. But I think you're more than the nanny to me.”

“Well, I would certainly hope so. I didn't raise you, mister!”

Seungcheol can't miss the opportunity for a joke. He takes hold of your hand and places it on top of his...very hard dick.

“You raised him, though,” he whispers.

“Mr. Choi!” you hiss, scandalized. “I mean...Cheol.”

“Did you mean daddy?” Seungcheol teases you relentlessly.

“Stop it, you deviant!” you shake your head. “Fuck, you'll never let me live this down, will ya?”

“Do you kiss your boss with that mouth?” he smirks.

“Don't mind if I do,” you reply and bring your lips to his.

A year passes by quickly. You love every day of your life. Whether it'll be spending time with the kids, or going on fun dates with your boss turned boyfriend, or having mind-blowing sex with said specimen, you are truly happy with how things turned out for the best.

With one tiny thing missing.

“Cheol, can I ask you something?” you mumble one evening, as you are playing with his soft, fluffy hair.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Seungcheol turns towards you, giving you his fullest attention.

“Have you ever thought about having more kids?”

“Hmm, it hasn't crossed my mind. I already have three kids. But it depends. Is that something you're interested in?”

“Not till now. But if it's with you, I'd love to have a kid,” you confess shyly.

“Well, then, let's make you a mommy,” Seungcheol quickly makes it his mission and for the first time, doesn't use a condom.

“Yes, please, daddy, give me your cum,” you moan wantonly, as he fucks you deep.

“Take it like the good girl you are, I'll give you all I've got, fuck a baby in ya,” he grunts in your ear, sounding even more excited than you are.

“I love it, feel so full,” you whimper and can't stop kissing him. You can't believe this beautiful man is yours and wants to give you another present.

“That's right, sweetheart, I'll stuff you full of it,” he moans and releases himself inside you. Your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, as you reach your high.

Seungcheol gently pushes the cum that's spilling out of your pussy back inside and lifts your legs up.

“Do you think it'll stick?” you ask doubtfully.

“Can't hurt to try again until it does,” he shrugs, determined to succeed.

Nine months later, as you welcome the twins into the family, you realize you've never expected to achieve so much happiness.

“You really had to outdo yourself and give me not one but two babies,” you playfully push Seungcheol's shoulder.

“Is it too late now to say sorry?” he grins nervously.

“Don't be. I'm more than satisfied. But you'll have to give me a raise!”

“I'll give you something better than that,” Seungcheol promises and pulls a diamond ring out of his pocket.

“Oh my God,” you are in shock.

“Y/N...you've given me more than I could ever hope to deserve. You started off as a nanny but you became my three kids' best friend and now, the mother of two more angels. You became my closest person, my source of joy, my sweetheart. Knowing that I can come home to you is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Will you do me the absolute honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes, of course, yes!” you say through your tears and kiss him, as he slides the ring on your finger.

“Can I call you mommy now?” Elsie peeks her adorable head behind the door, followed by Dino and Chaerry, who are all excited by the good news.

“Congratulations, Y/N!” Chaerry greets you with a hug and whispers: “Thanks for taking one for the team and making our lonely old man. happy.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Seungcheol complains loudly.

Dino jumps on the back of his dad with a loud squeal.

“You better treat her right, Dad!” the boy warns. “Or I'll ketchup your room!”

“Why do I feel like I'm the one being welcomed into the family?” Seungcheol bemoans his fate but he's never smiled wider.

“You'll get used to it,” you joke. “Come on, guys, meet your new brother and sister.”

“Hii, babies!” Elsie and Dino jump excitedly around the twins.

“Oh, they're so cute! Aren't they so cute, Dad?” Chaerry coos at the babies.

“They are, but it's too early for you to think about how cute babies are. Look at me...I already have five. Isn't it tragic?” Seungcheol keeps messing around.

“It could have been twelve or something,” you play along.

“I can't imagine,” Seungcheol cries out indignantly. But deep down, maybe he can.

The End

[itsmarsss]

cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

(from the vault)

You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?

Words: 6,164

Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo

[. . .]

"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.

Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”

“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.

“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”

“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.

“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”

“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”

“Hell yeah!”

“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed. 

“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”

“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.

“And it’s not negotiable.”

“What your dad said.”

"Dad!”

“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”

“It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I tried," he shrugged.

“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”

“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”

“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”

“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”

Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick. 

“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”

“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”

“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”

Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”

“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”

“Crap.”

“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.

. . .

“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth. 

“Dude! Can you be quiet?”

“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.

Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Why do I need to be quiet?”

“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”

Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”

Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"

Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”

“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”

“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.

. . .

You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile. 

“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”

“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in. 

“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”

“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”

“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”

“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.

A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands. 

“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.

“No!”

“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.

“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”

“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”

“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.

“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Greg!” she yelled again.

“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs. 

“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”

“Who’s y/n?”

“Your babysitter!”

He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped.  “You’re not an old lady!"

“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"

“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."

"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.

You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.

“I’m so sorry about this."

“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."

“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"

“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.

. . .

You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.

“So. You’re not an old lady.”

“Nope.”

“Are you in high school?”

“Yes I am.”

“What grade are you in?"

“I’m a senior!”

“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”

“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”

“Lucky.”

“Why’s that?”

“He makes my life hell!”

“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“That’s just your job.”

“Trust me no girls like him.”

“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”

“Can we play video games?”

“Depends on what you have.”

“Apocalypse of The Damned?”

“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”

“You’re gonna like it I swear!”

“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”

“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.

. . .

“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point. 

“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”

“No! You can- you can trust us.”

“Is he annoying?”

He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”

“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”

You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name. 

hi mrs heffley

how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt

You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.

“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”

“Is it Rowley?”

“Sorry?”

“The friend, is it Rowley?”

“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”

“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”

“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”

“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”

“And Rodrick?”

“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Bye!” You hung up.

“So?”

“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”

Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.

“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’

“Uh yeah, I am.”

“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”

“Rowley!”

“What? You did!”

You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.

The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”

“Yeah!”

He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.

“He told me to bring it to him.”

“Why?"

"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."

"You don't have to do it.”

“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”

“Not with me here. I got you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Chill out.”

. . .

“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.

“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.

“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.

“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.

“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.

"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."

“Well who are you? And what are you doing… here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.

“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”

“What?”

“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”

“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.

“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”

“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.

“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”

“Zathura.”

“What the fuck is Zathura?”

“Don’t swear in front of them!”

“Sorry.”

Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?

You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

They both slowly nodded their head no. 

“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”

“We’re not five!"

“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.

. . .

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.

“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.

“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”

“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”

“No.”

Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.

Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.

The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.

“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.

“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”

He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”

“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side. 

What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.

“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.

“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.

“What?”

“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”

“Uh sure. Thanks.”

He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”

“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”

“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?

“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”

“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”

“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”

“What?”

“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”

“Yeah.”

“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”

“What?”

“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”

He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”

“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.

“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”

“Y/N.”

“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”

“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”

“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”

“Aren’t all brothers?”

“I’m not.”

“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”

“No I’m not!”

“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”

“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”

You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”

“You sound like a mom.”

“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.

"Right. He told you about that.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”

“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.

He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"

It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”

“I think you should let me start over.”

“But-”

“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.

“Okay, we ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes!”

“Both of you?”

“Yup.”

“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”

Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed. 

“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”

“Are you coming over tomorrow?”

“Why, did you actually like me?”

“Just a little.”

You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”

“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!” 

“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home. 

You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.

To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey. You not have anything to do?”

“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”

You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”

“You wanna watch something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well a real movie.”

“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”

“You actually do?”

“Yes!”

“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”

“Uh, an adult movie?”

“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious. 

“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”

You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.

“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”

“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”

“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.

“Well you can finish it if you want!”

“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”

“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”

“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”

“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”

“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”

“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”

“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.

“Are you sure?” His mom asked.

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.

“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”

“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”

You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.

You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”

“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”

“What?”

“So I can put the address on the GPS?”

“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said. 

“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.

“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”

“I know. I uh. I want to.”

“You wanna do the dishes?”

“I wanna help you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Fine.”

You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car. 

“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”

“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?

. . .

On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.

Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”

“Miss me, kid?”

“Are they going out again?”

“Apparently.”

“Mom, Y/N’s here!”

“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”

“No problem! Where are you off to today?”

“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”

“Oh he did?” That was strange.

“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”

“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”

“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”

“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”

“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other. 

“Yeah.”

"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult. 

“Okay bye everyone!”

Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.

“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.

“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool.”

“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.

“Sure.”

“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.

“What do you mean, assface?”

“Did you just offer to help with the food?”

“Yeah?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.

“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”

“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.

“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”

“Yes!” Greg yelled.

“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?” 

Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.

“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”

He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”

“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”

“For what?”

“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”

“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”

“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”

He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”

“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”

“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”

“Oh you think I’m cool?”

“Yeah.” 

The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.

“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”

“I’m not trying to impress you!”

“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”

“Well I was.”

“You were.”

“Did it work?”

“Why’d you want to impress me?”

“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”

“Huh. Maybe I do.”

“Cool.”

“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.

“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.

“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid. 

“Hey Rowley. You alright?”

“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”

“You did?”

“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”

“Cool! You should tell Greg!”

“Will you play with us?”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”

“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”

“Oh I don-”

“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”

“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”

“Deal.”

“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.

“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.

You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”

“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”

“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.

Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting. 

“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.

You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.

“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”

“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.

It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit. 

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”

You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it. 

“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”

“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”

“No.”

“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”

“Oh do they?”

“Don’t you?”

“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”

“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."

“Shame.”

“What?”

“I said let’s go.”

You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again. 

“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?

Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.

“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest. 

“Hey!”

You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.

“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.

“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.

“Nope, we know how that ends.”

“But we’ve changed!”

“It’s been less than a week!”

“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.

“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”

“With the little kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.

They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.

It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway. 

“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.

You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.

“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.

You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.

Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”

“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.

To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.

TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”

“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”

“What would be your style?”

“I don’t know. Hard rock.”

“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”

“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted. 

You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”

He stopped. “You do?”

“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”

“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”

“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”

“I’m well-informed.”

“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.

He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”

“Uh- huh.”

He gave in. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay”

“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”

“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”

“Uh. Bad boys?”

You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether they’re nice to us.”

“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”

“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”

“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.

“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”

“Uh. You? Obviously.”

Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.

“What?”

“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”

“Right.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Okay I ‘m lost.”

“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.

Okay, sudden much? “What?”

“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”

“Right. But as a… date?”

“Yeah.”

You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?

“Sure.”

“What?”

“I said sure.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door. 

“Y/N! How are we?”

You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”

“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist. 

“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”

“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”

Oh, right. Shit. He was.

“Yeah I uh, think so.”

With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.

“It’s called fashion, dad!”

Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”

“I guess.”

He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”

“Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“You’re not a rockstar.”

“Not yet."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.

"Just take it!” 

You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.

“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.” 

“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”

“You kinda are.”

“Shut up!”

You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”

He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”

“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”

His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”

Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”

“I think it is.”

“Fuck off!”

“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.

“Shut up.”

“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”

“Yeah but we’re not dating.”

“Not yet.”

“Shut up!”

“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”

“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”

“You can manage.”

“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”

“Deal.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

[. . .]

A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!

[99woez]

love is a dog ᰔᩚ j.sc

warnings. smut, boyfriend!sungchan, established relationship, unprotected sex, play wrestling, half a size kink if you squint, i love sungchan!

wc. 4k

summary. despite never winning, you love play fighting with your big and strong boyfriend.

You told him not to take it easy on you this time.

“Get off!”

“Get me off,” Sungchan laughs from above you, having you pinned to his mattress on your stomach. It’s all a game to him, and, technically, this is a game, but it’s a game you’re losing, so you’re not having as great of a time as you imagined. You scoff at his word choice, reaching behind you to swat pathetically at his side. You can’t even tell what parts of him you’re hitting, but you're making an impact. Barely.

“Let me roll over–”

“That’s not how wrestling works.”

“This isn’t wrestling. I’m your girlfriend.” 

Sungchan scoffs, blowing his lips together to make a “Pfft!” sound that makes you sigh.

“My girlfriend that literally asked me to wrestle and not go easy on her. You literally asked for this.” His hand presses harder into your back for a moment, making you whine and scrunch your eyes shut. The mattress began to feel unpleasant against your cheek even though the feeling of his weight on top of you felt nice. Really nice. Sungchan was so big and warm that even the smallest touch made you feel like you were on fire. Right now, you feel as if you’re in a burning building, suffocating on thick grey smoke, but you’re enjoying every second of it.

“I’m still going easy on you, by the way,” Sungchan adds after a beat of silence, “You couldn’t take me really not going easy on you. I think you’d break.”

“Oh shut up,” You huff, attempting to roll over once again but are blocked by your boyfriend’s weight on your back. You groan, hitting the sheets with your fist, hearing Sungchan laugh at your frustration. You momentarily lift your head from the bed, only to have him shove it back down immediately. You gasp at the sudden aggression, quickly reaching back to grab onto his thigh just to ground yourself for a minute. Your head was spinning, and your heart was beating a million beats per minute right in your throat, but you loved it.

The air shifts after that. Both of you feel it. You can’t help but to smirk slightly.

“You liked that…” You sing to him with a widening grin. He slides his hand off the back of your head to the middle of your back again as he inhales through his teeth.

“Yeah, you seem pretty into it too.” He begins to rock his hips against your bottom, and you let out a breathy moan. It's not a loud one, but he can hear it. His free hand finds its way down to your ass, squeezing gently before sliding his large calloused hands back to your hips. 

As his hands find their way to your hips, they instinctively tilt you up a bit, making the friction between your bodies increase tenfold. His fingers press into your flesh gently but firmly, and you let out a soft moan. You rub your lips together, looking up at the ceiling before looking back in his direction.

Sungchan squeezes your hips again, pushing up your shirt to reveal the landscape of your back. Instantly, you feel yourself get hot even with the cool air of his ceiling fan hitting your skin. You try to lift your head, but Sungchan shoves you back down, his full hand nearly taking over your face, making you gasp. You try to push against him and free yourself from his grasp, but he doesn’t budge, just chuckling as you squirm helplessly against his grasp.

You twist your hips against him, inhaling sharply through your teeth when you feel his cock hardening through his sweatpants. “You get hard so easily,” You huff with a chuckle, reaching back to grab his arm. Sungchan easily pins your arm behind your back, pressing himself harder against your ass in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the tension in his pants.

“Sorry, you’re hot.”

“You always get hard when we wrestle.”

“Yeah, well,” Sungchan shrugs, lifting his hand from your head to push your hair out of your face. “If you had a dick, you’d get hard wrestling with a hot girl too. Don’t act better than me.” He pulls you up by the back of your shirt with ease. You laugh at how easy it is for him to lift and toss you around, sitting on your knees and turning around to face him. When you look at him, a big and dumb smile takes over his face, brown eyes sparkling when he looks down at you.

You love how he looks at you like you’re the best thing to step into his life. You feel so overcome with love that you can’t stop yourself from shoving him back on the bed with a giggle, hearing him laugh when his back hits the mattress. You easily climb on top of him, reaching for his arms to pin him down, but he goes for your waist, wrapping his hands around you and tossing you on your back with ease. You try to recover faster than last time, but he’s too fast, too big, and demanding, immediately crawling on top of you and pinning your flailing arms above your head.

“Damn, two for two,” Sungchan teases down at you with a laugh. He leans down to presumably kiss you, but you turn your head with a whine. He clicks a tongue at your fit, letting go of one of your wrists to grab your cheeks and jerk your face towards him. He looks so ridiculous when he’s pissed. His dark brows furrowed, his thick lips frowning, you can’t help to chuckle at him. He shakes your face softly. You clench your thighs around his hips.

“Don’t be a brat,” He whines, his high voice not matching his mean face. You smirk up at his desperation, humming up at him and pouting your lips up at him. He whines again, pressing his hips against yours again. “Kiss me.”

You blink up at him like you don’t understand, a slow smile growing on your lips when he huffs at you again. You love his frustration. You just think he’s so cute when he’s frustrated. “You should’ve let me win if you wanted to kiss–” He slams his lips to yours, cutting you off swiftly with a hard and demanding kiss. You whimper into the kiss, brows knitting when he presses in deeper, his chest pressing against yours as he sighs into your mouth. Your body heats up again. He’s suffocating you, but in the best way. You love it when he nearly crushes you, taking what he wants because he can, and you’ll let him. You let him every time.

You feel his hips jerk into yours. You gasp at the collision but smile against his lips. You can feel his cock straining against his sweatpants already. It was never hard to work Sungchan up. You teased him about it often, which seemed to get him off more. He ruts his hips into yours again, an airy moan leaving his full lips as he does so. The shorts you’re wearing begin to drive you crazy, wanting to feel all of him with no barriers.

Your eyes flicker across his face before landing on him, humming softly. “Are we going to have sex?” You ask like it isn’t obvious, an excited smile growing on your lips as he mocks your humming, leaning in to take your lips against his again, biting your bottom lip softly.

“You wanna have sex with me?” He teases, giggling against your lips as he pulls back, allowing you both to laugh at full volume as you nod your head.

“Feel how wet I am right now. It's crazy.” You grab his wrist and put it on the hem of your shorts. He takes it from there, sliding his hand inside your shorts and dipping into your underwear. You bite your bottom lip when you feel his slender fingers against your folds, gasping quietly when he presses the tips of his fingers against your wet entrance with a groan. He looks down at his hand in your pants, groaning again at how the fabric moves because of his fingers.

“Fuck…All from me tossing you around?” You nod at his question, eyes fluttering shut the more his fingers trace and rub over your hole, gathering your juices to slick up his fingers. With practiced ease, his fingers slide up to your clit and rub circles into the sensitive nub, making your back arch up off the bed slightly as a moan escapes your lips.

“I like when you get all…It’s fun to see how strong you are.” You try to explain, but your brain is easily fogging up with euphoria, which makes you rutt into Sungchan’s hand for more friction. Sungchan chuckled at your confession, his eyes never leaving your face as he continued rubbing at your clit.

“You like how strong I am, baby?” You preen at the nickname, nodding as your eyes open to meet his gaze, smiling fondly at him as you do so. Sungchan licks his lips at the sight of you beneath him, his free hand taking your face into his hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“And you’re throwing a fit about me getting hard,” Sungchan retorts, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he begins to spread your wetness around with slow, tantalizing movements. The feeling of you so wet and ready for him never failed to amaze him. “You’re just as turned on as I am.”

“I can’t deny that.” You smile at him, moaning softly when he slides a finger inside of you experimentally. He’s watching your reaction, his brown eyes intense and focused. “Seriously, we should wrestle more often.”

His response is a hearty laugh, his chest shaking beneath you. “I think I’d like that,” he murmurs, his thumb circling your clit lazily while another finger joins the first inside of you. His movements are slow and deliberate.

Your back arches off the bed, and you whimper again, feeling incredibly sensitive. It’s always like this with Sungchan – you’re always so responsive to him and eager for everything he gives you. “Sungchan…” you moan out his name, your voice thick with lust.

“Shh.” His other hand finds its way to your mouth, silencing any more protests that might have escaped your lips by sliding two fingers into your mouth. He’s so consuming, filling you from every place he could, making you practically melt into the mattress, moaning around his digits before sucking on them softly. The feel of his fingers inside you makes your head spin, and judging by the satisfied grin on his face, he knows it.

“Look at me,” he commands suddenly, a bit harsher than before. You obey instantly, looking up at him even as stars dance in front of your vision from the pleasure he’s giving you.

His gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart falter within your chest. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice husky. His fingers are a constant pressure, curling and moving inside you in ways that have your eyes rolling back into your head.

But he doesn't want that; he wants you to watch him, wants to see the effect he has on you mirrored in your eyes as they stare back at him.

"I love seeing you like this," he tells you, grinning cockily. He pushes his fingers deeper, silently daring you to break eye contact. But you don't; you just whimper around the fingers in your mouth and take it, staring into his eyes as he stretches and fills you. “Just so pretty. All mine, too,” He whispers, ducking his head down to scatter kisses across your neck and chest, his fingers slipping from your mouth to hold your waist with a soft moan at how your skin tasted against his lips. Your fingers tangle in his silky hair, beginning to breathe heavier as his fingers continue to fuck into you with a newfound vigor. 

"More…" you breathe out in a heady whisper, one hand slipping down to cover his where it's still stroking over your clit in tight circles. Sungchan's deep chuckle vibrates against your skin before he obliges, sliding yet another finger inside of you, the stretch making you gasp and writhe beneath him. 

"Needy, aren’t you?" he teases.

You can only nod in response, the coil in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each delicious thrust of his fingers inside you. You feel your thighs tremble when he curls his fingers inside you, a long whine leaving your lips as you stare into Sungchan’s eyes. His jaw is dropped in awe of you, moaning softly and deeply at the obscene wet sounds coming from between your legs.

"That's my girl," Sungchan coos as he watches your face contort with pleasure. He loves every single one of your expressions – the way you scrunch your nose when you're trying to hold back a whimper, how your eyes flutter closed when he thrusts harder than expected. You’re an angel to him even when you claw and scratch at his arms.

He pulls his fingers back just to drive them forward once more, hitting that spot inside you that makes your body jolt with pleasure. His name is like a mantra on your lips, coming out in either soft whispers or high gasps. He bites his bottom lip when he hears you, dipping down to rest his forehead on yours to be closer to you. You can’t help but smile at the proximity, tipping your head up to nuzzle your nose against his with an airy giggle. Sungchan chuckles at your affection, kissing your forehead as his fingers continue to drill into you.

"Sungchan... please," you whimper, digging your nails into his forearms. You want– no, need – more of him. You want to feel him all around you, consume & take every bit of you until there's nothing left but him.

With a low chuckle, Sungchan gives a final swirl of his thumb over your clit before pulling his hand away entirely. You whine at the loss of contact, but it's short-lived when Sungchan murmurs, “I know, baby. I’ve got you.” You can almost see the smirk in his voice as he says it, your eyes too hazy with lust to notice anything but the presence of his warmth.

He moves away from you just for a moment, the sound of clothes rustling filling the room as he discards his own shirt and pants. He looks down at you, his eyes drinking in your disheveled state before his body blankets yours again. His torso pressing against yours, hard lines and warm skin meeting your softer curves, his fingers tracing light patterns over your hips as if he’s memorizing the contours of your body. 

His lips find yours in a searing kiss as he grinds down against you, the feeling of his length pressing into your bare thigh making you groan into his mouth. His hand slips between your bodies to align himself at your entrance, teasing you for a moment before pushing in with a low grunt. You whimper against his lips as his cock splits your walls open for him, brows knitting together at the way your body stretches to take him. He’s so big. Every time he fucks you, it feels like the first time. It’s mind-numbing. You can’t even imagine fucking another man after having Sungchan for so long. You swear he’s made for you.

"Look at me," he orders softly, his voice laced with need. His gaze is demanding yet tender as his hand takes your chin between his fingers to tip your head up. You let out a quiet sigh, opening your eyes to meet his gaze, unable to stop yourself from smiling at him. He’s so lovely, so warm. You feel nothing but love when you look at him. Sungchan bites his bottom lip to stop his smile from growing when he sees you smile, sinking himself further into you until his hips are flush against yours.

He stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to him. The both of you are panting heavily, your hearts beating in sync as you feel him throbbing inside you. There’s an unspoken conversation as you lock eyes, understanding each other without any words needed.

“Alright?” he asks, his voice a low purr against the shell of your ear that sends shivers down your spine. You give a nod, your fingers clutching onto his shoulders, silently urging him to move. Sungchan chuckles softly at your impatience, giving you a teasing nip on the neck before pulling back slightly and thrusting back into you with a slow yet forceful push.

A strangled moan escapes from your lips as pleasure washes over you. His every thrust is calculated - slow, easy, building up the sensation until it crashes over you like waves. Your mind goes fuzzy with pleasure, your nails dragging down his back as his pace increases.

“You’re so tight,” he grunts against your skin, his lips nipping against your collarbone. His hands roam your body like they’ve mapped out every inch of you – and they have. He’s marked every part of you in one way or another, claiming you as his own in every way he possibly can. You can only whine in response, and you can barely form words at this point.

"Faster, Sungie. Please," you gasp out between heavy breaths, and he complies without hesitation.

His hips snap into yours at an unforgiving pace now, hitting that sweet spot inside of you again and again. Your legs wrap around his hips tighter in surrender, pulling him closer. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by your shared gasps and moans of absolute pleasure. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he anchors himself, his teeth grazing your neck with each sharp thrust.

"Yeah? Like that?" he rasps, feeling an accomplished smirk spread across his lips when you respond with a hoarse cry and an eager nod. 

Sungchan pulls out almost completely, only to slam back in, squeezing your hips hard enough to leave bruises. You wince at the mix of pain and pleasure, your muscles clenching around him. It’s too much but not enough all at once. He always leaves bruises even when he doesn’t mean to. You have to wonder if he knows his own strength. Your world narrows down to him: Sungchan and his body on top of yours, his hands leaving trails of fire where they touch you, his cock filling you with every thrust.

The coil in your gut tightens further, warning you of the fast-approaching release. "I wanna cum," you whine desperately, your hand fumbling between your bodies to press against your clit. However, Sungchan bats away your hand with a low chuckle.

"Yeah? You wanna cum, baby?" he taunts with a laugh, replacing your hand with his own with a smirk. His thumb begins to stroke over your sensitive bud in teasing circles that make you buck your hips up into him. His pace increases, rougher now, almost punishing as he chases his own release.

Your name tumbles from his lips like a prayer, desperate and ragged as he feels himself on the edge. His words spur you on, encouraging you to chase after that high that's just out of reach. 

You nod vigorously, your eyes squeezed shut and a low moan rumbling up from your chest as he continues to move inside you. The friction between your bodies is almost too much to bear, the sticky heat coating both of you, making it impossible not to feel his skin slipping against yours. You're drowning in sensation, the world around you fading away as all that matters is this moment with Sungchan.

His thrusts grow more brutal and hard, his hips slamming into yours in a rhythm that matches the thudding of your heart. He's lost in this feeling, too, his mouth open with every breath that he sucks in between gritted teeth. The taste of you fills his mouth as he kisses and nips along your jawline and collarbone, leaving marks that will only remind you of this moment.

You push back against him, wanting more friction, more contact - like he's a part of you now, forever entwined together. His lips find yours again, hot and hungry as his tongue slips into your mouth to dance with yours. It's messy but perfect; it always has been with him.

Your nails dig into his shoulders harder now, urging him to go deeper or faster or harder - you can't tell anymore which one you crave more. The sound of skin smacking against skin echoes around the room, mixing with the wet smacks of your kisses and the ragged breaths you take together.

Sungchan tilts his head back suddenly, releasing your lips with a soft pop.

With a final slap of skin against skin, you both come together, your bodies shuddering and twitching as pleasure overwhelms you. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, lips parted in a silent scream of ecstasy while his thumb flicks over your clit in perfect rhythm. Stars dance before your eyes as you feel your core clench around him, milking him out with each contraction. Your walls flutter and spasm, trying to hold onto him until the very last moment when he groans deeply, filling you completely.

"Fuck," he mumbles as his hot load coats your insides, his lips brushing against your ear. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you tightly against the force of his release, making you moan loudly as you come apart around him. Your legs quiver beneath him, his weight pressing down on you as if to mark you as his own. Sungchan's thrusts slow down to soothe the aftershocks rocking through your body as he holds himself deep inside of you, you panting breaths mingling together in the quiet room.

Chest heaving and sweat forming on your skin where they touch, Sungchan pulls out with a soft whimper of displeasure from both of you. The cool air feels like a slap in the face compared to how heated you are inside and out. Your walls cling to him for one last moment before releasing their grip, leaving a trail of stickiness between the two of you. You let out a long exhale, still catching your breath, as he rolled off of you to lie beside you on the bed.

He places soft kisses along the marks he left on your hips and collarbone, a smile playing on his lips when he finds your eyes on him. You still struggle to catch your breath, head falling back with a laugh as you cover your eyes with your arm. You hear him laugh as hell, crawling back up to uncover your eyes and crash his lips to yours in a fiery kiss, both of you still smiling against each other’s lips.

“We should wrestle more often,” Sungchan jokes against your lips. You roll your eyes with another tired laugh, hitting his chest playfully.

“You need to let me win one time. ‘See what happens,” you tease with a raise of your eyebrows, watching him raise his interest with a cute hum before leaning in and pecking your lips once, twice, three times before pulling back and kissing your cheek. You can’t stop the giggles from leaving your lips as his arm wraps around your waist.

“Alright,” he says, his voice teasing and light. “Next time, I’ll let you win.” His hand comes up to brush a few strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear with a gentle sweep of his fingers. You blink up at him playfully, daring him to hold on to that statement.

“Promise?” you ask with a twinkle in your eye. The challenge is unspoken but clear as day between you.

“Promise.”

[trinketstar]

The Amazing Toybox Circus!

A storybook - Part 1

Once upon a time, there was a very old toy shop.

An unremarkable sort of place with very few visitors. The shelves were lined with antique curiosities which had collected dust over the years.

Among these, atop a colorful wooden toy chest, was a simple kaleidoscope. It was inscribed with a strange design of teeth and eyes, and a poem about a magical circus.

...

Now, one might imagine the type of person would walk into such a place. Perhaps someone who has worked far too hard. Someone who feels unsatisfied with the tedium of every day life, and who longs for an escape into the fantastical world of imagination that playthings can inspire. This sort of person might look through a kaleidoscope and dream, just for a moment, of a new life filled with bright color, of fun and adventure.

This was the sort of person who suddenly woke up on the floor, surrounded by darkness and extremely confused.

Feeling dizzy and thoughts hazy, she righted herself and began to wander. A soft jingling noise followed her with every step, though she paid it no mind. There were more pressing issues at the moment.

She strained her mind trying to remember how she could have possibly ended up here. She clearly remembered entering a toy shop, but her thoughts beyond this were blank besides a vivid image of swirling colors. Red and blue spirals. All she knew at the moment was that she felt terribly afraid, and very very small.

Timidly, she called out-

"HELLO, MY NEWEST SUPERSTAR!"

An enormous wooden ventriloquist dummy suddenly burst from the shadows. His painted eyes gleamed, one blue, one green. His wooden teeth chattered as he loomed overhead. He pulled a white balloon on a string, which sported an equally large toothy grin.

The sight was positively terrifying.

"Welcome to the amazing toybox circus!"

"The ... the toybox what?" She squeaked in response.

"Why, the toybox circus of course! You're sure to have a grand time, my dear! " She was suddenly lifted up to meet his unsettling wooden gaze.

"My name is Caine! I'm your ringmaster," he continued at an unnecessarily loud volume.

"My dear, you've entered a wonderful world of whimsy and adventure, where anything can happen! Soon you'll meet your new friends and we shall put on a show!"

He spun her around before setting her down on the floor again.

The girl was speechless. Be part of a circus? Led by a talking puppet? Surely this was all a strange dream!

"I'm sorry, sir," she eventually said, somehow managing to speak politely considering the circumstances. "But I really must be getting home! If you'd kindly show me the way-"

"Oh but you simply must stay for the performance, my dear! I've prepared all sorts of activities that are sure to delight! Oh the audience will love you! You shall be the star attraction!"

The puppet was very insistent. At a loss, the girl considered her options were either to continue wandering the darkness or to trust this "ringmaster". Now she was an intelligent young lady, but she was also a curious sort. After all, curiosity was what brought her here in the first place, and curiosity compelled her to see what would happen next...

So despite better judgement, she finally said -

Hesitant but hopeful. Perhaps this would be interesting? At the very least, she could play along until finding a way out of this strange place, out of the toyshop and back home. Or until she woke up, as this was likely a dream after all.

"At any rate, this may be fun," she hoped out loud.

Something cackled from atop a large shelf. The silhouette was that of a rabbit, but with a wide yellow grin.

"Heh HEH! You'll soon see, little clown," he said, before hopping out of sight.

What an odd place this was...

----part 2 coming soon!

[nereidprinc3ss]

weber's law

in which spencer reid comforts fem!reader when she's having a panic attack at the rossi mansion

fluff warnings/tags: panic attack lol, spencer is really cute and sweet my little perfect cutie pie angel baby, classic spencer info dumps bc they're pretty much his love language, established relationship, cheesy and sweet at the end a/n: this one is for my queens with panic disorders who are triggered by literally nothing and everything i see you have this ilysm

When Spencer had invited you to a small get-together at Rossi’s, you’d imagined a small get-together at Rossi’s. 

And maybe that makes you a complete idiot. 

Or maybe Spencer is just so used to FBI work functions that to him, this really is small.

But now you’re sitting on an expensive couch in a very nice house, and you’re surrounded by FBI agents who are all milling around and talking and laughing, and you’re worried maybe your outfit doesn’t look as nice on you as you’d thought it did, and you keep having very vivid visions of spilling your drink all over a furry throw rug that probably costs more than your rent does. 

Music that could reasonably be considered relaxing or at the very least not objectionable plays over the sound system throughout the whole house and thus is inescapable—not that you’d get up from the couch even if you could, because Spencer is sitting to your right and he has his hand on your thigh and it’s the only thing that has until this point been keeping you from a full blown panic attack.

Maybe that makes you a complete idiot, too.

Regardless, you try to focus on nothing but the weight of his hand as it travels slowly up and down from knee to hip over the jeans you’re not so sure about, and the feeling of your breath coming and going, as slow as you can possibly summon it without passing out. 

Spencer is laughing at something JJ is saying as she stands next to the couch with Will and you really like JJ but her voice seems so loud right now, and nothing is going particularly wrong but everything feels so, so wrong it’s scary. 

All the buzzing tension in your body telling you to run away because you’re unsafe and at the same time locking you into place builds until you have to express it somehow. So you revert to an old habit—bouncing your leg rapidly like a rabbit thumping its foot. It’s not entirely conscious, but it feels better than being completely still. That is, until Spencer’s hand strays inward and cups just above your inner knee, where he begins fanning his thumb back and forth over the fabric. 

“What’s this?” he murmurs, head angled toward you and voice low enough to not draw attention. You force yourself to plant your heel to the ground even though it worsens the feeling of gears crunching in your chest. 

“Nothing. Sorry.”

That gets his attention. 

Because of course it does. He’s always telling you to stop saying sorry so often. 

His tone solidifies, still quiet but committed to this conversation now and no longer the whispery apparition of a quick aside. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I don’t know, it wasn’t—it’s nothing.”

You barely avoid apologizing again. 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, just watches you—and you make the mistake of raising your gaze to meet his. He has that curious, analytical look about him, concern tightening his eyes and knitting his brow. He’s doing that annoying mind-reading thing again, and as soon as he actually sees your eyes, he’s figured you out. 

“Do you want to go outside for a minute? Get some air?”

After examining his face for any clues that he’d rather stay in here, (not that you’d really know what to look for), you nod hesitantly. Spencer mirrors your nod and stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you follow suit after setting your drink on a side table (without spilling.)

JJ is now wrapped up in conversation with another agent and the two of you manage to abscond without attracting unwanted attention, which makes you feel slightly better as Spencer leads you deftly through rooms with high-vaulted ceilings and big windows and heavy, expensive looking oak furniture. It seems like you’ve been wandering through a maze when you arrive to a quieter part of the house and he opens a french door for you—which leads out onto an empty patio. 

A cool breeze immediately sinks into your skin, and your nervous system is so hyper-alert that it gives you chills. Spencer notices the way you shiver and steps closer after closing the door behind him, his hand finding the small of your back immediately. 

“You okay?” he asks, intentionally avoiding impeding your view of the sweeping backyard and the trees beyond. Sometimes focusing on something stationary is less overwhelming, but they’re so tall they seem imposing. Threatening, even. 

But then again, everything feels threatening right now. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Spencer seems unconvinced by your monotone—when you glance over at him he’s still watching you like you’re a puzzle to be solved. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Why are you so convinced something is wrong?” you laugh, but it comes out too manic. You cross your arms. He looks pointedly at the motion. 

“For starters, that. Often times crossing your arms is a subconscious way of comforting yourself when you feel defensive or threatened. And you could say it’s because you’re cold, but—” he pauses, reaching out to touch your cheek. “I can feel how hot your face is, and you shivered when we came outside even though it’s 71 degrees because your nervous system is overreacting to external stimuli. The leg-bouncing is also often indicative of an activated parasympathetic nervous system. Is me touching you okay?”

Again, you nod—unsure how to deflect when he calls you out so efficiently. 

Spencer’s hand slides down to just beneath your jaw, where he rests two fingers. Each second that passes has him looking progressively more worried. You wish you weren’t quite so catatonic—the fairy lights hanging from the pergola shine through his hair and make him glow so appealingly you want to kiss his cheek. 

“Your heart rate is really high, honey.”

That would be due to the sense of impending doom. Thanks for pointing it out.

But you’ve lost your words, and along with them has gone your sense of humor. All you can manage for a 30 second span is a meaningless shake of your head as you avert your eyes, staring at the sprawling carpet of blue-green grass soaked in night as each blade doubles with your tears. 

“I think I’m dying,” you finally croak.

“Technically, we all are. Very slowly.”

Ah. There’s that social tact he’s so well known for. 

“Spencer.”

“Right,” he kisses your cheek as you stare up at him, affronted, and pulls you into his chest. “Sorry. I was actually trying to be helpful. Changes in brain chemistry and hormonal activity associated with panic attacks change your perception of time and make things feel really fast which can contribute to feelings of anxiety. But in reality time is moving just the same as it always is. One second is always one second. Sometimes remembering that helps me to slow down. Not literally, of course. My gravitational pull isn’t great enough to have any discernible effect on the passage of time.”

You sniff, pressing your cheek to his tie. His words make your head spin, seeing as you hadn't been prepared for a lecture in psychophysics—but it spins in the opposite direction than it had been going previously. It's nice.

“Change your perception of time?”

“Weber’s law of perception. Stimulus sensitivity will increase proportionally with increased stimulus intensity. You’re only perceiving time to be going faster because your cortisol and adrenaline levels are making you hyper-vigilant and sensitive to all the markers of time passing.”

“Like what?”

Spencer hums, the bass of it a comforting resonance against your ear, and strokes your hair unhurriedly. 

“Like… your internal clock. Your body measures time with your heartbeat, so when your heart rate increases, time seems to go faster. Also environmental cues, which lead you to understand that the world is not stagnant and thus is not frozen in time. Like the sound of the wind chimes…” he pauses, long enough for you to realize that indeed, you can hear the gentle, sonorous ringing and tinkling of steel chimes bouncing against each other. “And the wind itself, which is coming all the way from the Gulf of Mexico. Some studies actually suggest that wind direction can affect your energy levels and mood.”

It’s a gentle breeze more than it is full-blown wind. It feels cool against your hot skin. 

Spencer’s hand on the back of your head, still rhythmically smoothing your hair, seems to slow down the passage of time as well. You focus on that, and the sound of the wind chimes and the breeze on your skin for a few minutes, until your breathing and your heart rate slow and soon you regain your footing in the temporal dimension, exactly sure of where you stand on Rossi’s patio and in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You tricked me into doing a grounding exercise,” you mumble into Spencer’s jacket. 

“I did not trick you,” he defends, voice quiet to match yours. “I just wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

You pull away from him and he lets you, watching on as you sniffle and wipe your tears on your sleeves. 

“Yeah, it did. Thank you.”

For a moment, neither of you speak as you gather yourself. He leads you by the hand to a cushioned hanging bench at the end of the patio, taking a seat next to you and gently rocking the swing. 

“Do you know what triggered that?” Spencer asks, over the gentle creaking sound. You shrug, observing the dance of the fireflies in the grass. 

“Nothing. Sometimes I just feel like everything’s wrong and scary but I didn’t want to tell you and ruin your night.”

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs, pulling you into him with an arm around your shoulder. “You are not ruining my night. I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“But all your friends and coworkers are inside, and you’re out here with me.”

He angles his head down toward you and you look up to meet his eyes, even warmer than the sticky summer night. 

“I am. Do you know why?”

“Because I suck,” you sniffle, more hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you attempt to look away. But Spencer’s not having it. He encourages you to sit up again so you can look at him properly, before wiping tears away gently with his thumb. When he speaks, it’s in soft, soothing tones. 

“No. I’m out here because if all my friends were inside having fun, and you were outside having a panic attack, I would choose you every time.”

You manage a laugh through the crying. 

“I don’t know if that’s healthy.”

“Whether or not it’s healthy is an entirely different discussion,” Spencer smiles wryly, before it melts into something softer and more sincere. “All that matters is that it’s true.”

For a while after that, you simply lay your head on his shoulder. Spencer controls the speed of the swing with his much-longer legs, kissing your head and rubbing your arm as you admire the expanse of Rossi’s lush yard bathed in moonlight and the black silhouette of the forest beyond. 

Eventually, Spencer speaks again, likely to make sure you’re not spiraling alone in your head. 

“Can I tell you an extremely classified secret that I've been trying really hard to keep to myself for three days?” he asks, and the mischievous edge to his voice catches your attention. You hum in assent, already wondering what kind of information Spencer would have a hard time keeping to himself. It could be anything. 

“Anderson is sleeping with Childers from Operational Tech.”

“What?”

Despite not working for the FBI yourself, Spencer and Penelope have you so filled in on the drama that you know exactly why that’s shocking. 

You pick your head up to look at him like do not fuck with me right now. 

His eyes sparkle as he nods.

“Yep.”

“Didn’t you tell me Childers was dating that girl in sex crimes?”

Spencer raises his eyebrows. The corner of his mouth twitches. You gasp. 

“No! What? Does Anderson know?”

“I don’t know. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Wait—Anderson told you this?”

“Yeah!” He laughs incredulously at your complete disbelief. “People tell me things! I’m an excellent confidant!”

“If you’re relaying all of this information to me then you’re a terrible confidant,” you chuckle, still watery—but feeling light years better. 

Spencer brushes your hair away from your face fondly, leaning a fraction of an inch closer. 

“You don’t count. Telling you secrets is basically the same as keeping them to myself.”

“Basically,” you tease, angling your head up by a few degrees in invitation. Spencer says nothing, does nothing for a long moment—just studies you with soft eyes, continues stroking your cheek. When he takes too long to kiss you, you get impatient. “I’m still kinda anxious, you know.”

He smiles knowingly.  

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, looking pointedly at his lips. “You should kiss me better.”

“I think that would take more than just one kiss,” he murmurs through a smile, leaning ever closer until your noses are bumping. “I think I would have to devote several hours to that. Maybe even a whole day.”

“How does tomorrow look for you?” 

He’s laughing as he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet and lingering. 

“For you? It’s wide open.”

[jobean12-blog]

Making Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,601

Summary: You're busy, your husband is busy but there's always time to play.

Author's Note: Just a little something fun. Life has been busy lately and it was just making me think of how hard it is to find time for the extra special things and sometimes you have to get creative haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: there's always the softness there, teasing, tension, masturbation (f), car sex, a curse or three

“Mr. Barnes, your wife is here to see you.”

Bucky stands behind his large mahogany desk and runs a hand along his jaw.

“Send her in.”

You walk through the door with a flourish and a smile.

“Hi Buck,” you sing.

“Doll face,” he greets, his smile playful as it teases his lips. “Missed me that much?”

He calls you over with a crook of his finger and pulls you in a for a kiss.

“Always,” you whisper against his lips. “You’ve been working late every night this week and we haven’t had lunch once!”

You pout but he kisses it off your lips.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you today. This new account is a real pain in my ass.”

His fingers gently stroke your cheek before pressing under your chin to hold your face to his for more kisses.

“I know,” you say, “I brought you some food and thought we could at least spend our lunch hour together.”

You plop the takeout bag on the corner of his desk and then slip around him to sit in his leather chair.

He turns and leans back against the desk, studying you. Just as he’s about to say something his phone rings. He reaches for it, answering with an indifferent “yes.”

With a nod he starts speaking into the phone, clearly talking about this new ‘pain in the ass’ account. His jaw tenses and his fingers tighten around the receiver showing his clear annoyance over the disruption.

You cross your legs, and his eyes track the movement, lingering before he motions for you to stand.

He reaches forward, pen poised between his finger and thumb, and uses the tip to lift the hem of your skirt.

It’s slow and deliberate and when he sees the lace of your stockings and the garter belt his eyes widen.

They move up your body, darkening as they travel, and your heart begins to beat faster.

“No, no,” he says sternly into the phone. “Nothing like that…”

You fall back into his chair and spread your legs, hiking the skirt up to your hips.

“Yes, I understand,” he says, his voice deeper and slightly hoarse now.

Your fingertips trace the lines of the garter, along your bare skin to the silk of your panties.

“Yes,” he continues into the phone, eyes locked on your every move.

You throw him a false saccharine smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you push your panties aside and run two fingers along your wet skin.

He coughs and grabs his water, taking a large sip.

“That’s fine, Steve. We can work with that timeline.”

The plastic bottle crushes under the weight of his grip, and your smile turns devilish. You begin moving your fingers, your eyes falling closed and head dropping back against the chair.

You imagine his long fingers doing the work, touching you, grabbing your hips. A tiny moan escapes, and you think about his taut arm muscles, strained and flexing as he moves his fingers inside you…his eyes, dark and pleading.

You look up to see them exactly as that, his gaze drifting from your face to the hand between your legs. His hungry expression moves back to your face, and he watches you fall apart with his name on your parted lips.

It’s overwhelming and unsatisfying: you need it to be his touch.

At some point, he ended the call, and now your heavy breathing is too loud for the quiet room as he sits across from you on the desk, his free hand gripping the edge so hard his knuckles are turning white.

“Fuck doll,” he growls. “Look what you do to me.”

He adjusts himself in his pants and you see the straining outline of his cock pressed along the tight fabric.

You grin and start to straighten yourself out.

“Pretty sure I just did that to myself…”

His eyes sparkle and he lifts his brows. “Should have been me.”

“Obviously. And now our lunch is over, and I have to go back to work.”

You stand and smooth down your skirt.

“Like hell you’re goin’ back to work,” he whisper shouts.

Your only response is to grab his tie and yank his lips down to yours before you walk through his door and down the hall, your heels clicking until you disappear onto the elevator. His loud, “fuck!” the last thing you hear.

The moment you step off the elevator you have a text from him.

“I’m picking you up at work. Five sharp. And I don’t want to hear shit about it.”

You smile but don’t respond, shoving your phone back into your bag and heading out through the double doors to your own office building.

It’s five on the dot and you look out your office window, noticing the sleek black car that pulls up right in front. Deciding to take your time, you tidy up your desk and gather your things, stepping out to meet him at about eight minutes after five.

“You’re late,” Bucky says when he gets out to hold the door open for you.

With a demure shrug you slide into the seat and watch him breeze around the car. He doesn’t drive away from the curb, and you look over to see his nostrils flared.

“Aren’t you going to take me home?”

“Get in the backseat.”

You blink several times and stare.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get in the backseat. Now.”

He reaches over to unbuckle the seatbelt for you, waiting with heated eyes for you to do as you’re told.

“You want to play doll. We’ll play.”

You smirk and start to climb over the middle console to the plush and spacious leather seats in the back. He lands a hard smack to your ass when you pass by, and you let out a squeal as you fall against the soft material.

He pushes through the middle, his tie hanging loosely in the air, and you grab it, pulling him on top of you. With a growl he kisses you, rough and without patience. He wastes no time pulling your shirt free of your skirt and ripping the buttons apart until it falls open to reveal your lacy bra.

“All day. All fucking day,” he murmurs.

“All day what?” you sass against his lips as you work open his pants.

“I’ve been hard and thinking about nothing else but burying myself between your legs.”

His hands wander over your skin, and he slips them under your skirt, pushing it up to your hips and then tracing the delicate little ribbons on the edge of your stockings.

You pull his chest to yours and kiss him, long and deep, gaining more urgency with every inch of skin uncovered.

You rip his shirt from his pants and explore the skin over his ribs, the sharp definition of muscle at his hips, and the soft trail of hair that disappears into his boxer briefs.

He groans into your mouth and deftly unhooks your garter belt, peeling your panties down and spreading your legs.

Pulling your leg forward you push him back and off you, sitting up so you can shove him against the seat back and straddle his lap.

With frantic hands you reach down and take him between your fingers, guiding his cock into you. Your eyes close as you slowly slide down every thick inch of him.

“Oh my god,” you moan.

You start to ride him, the pain of his rough fingertips on your hips only fueling you on. His sounds of pleasure are muffled between your breasts, and he pulls one bra cup down to close his mouth around your hardened nipple.

Your palm hits the dark tinted window and slides down from the condensation, but your hips don’t falter, and you hear him moan out your name.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come if you keep that up doll.”

He lifts you off him and roughly throws you down onto the seat. Pushing your legs apart he thrusts back in and picks one of your legs up over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck, yes.”

“Yeah doll?”

He smirks down at you and reaches out to grip the door frame and uses it for leverage, pushing deeper.

“Is this how you like it? This is what you get for showin’ up in my office and teasing me like that.”

“No,” you sass back and lift your hips to meet his. “I like it harder Bucky.”

“Fuck,” he murmurs.

The windows are completely fogged and your slick skin slides along the leather seats. You watch as his body strains with effort, the tendons in his neck pulled tight and you slip your legs off his shoulders, tugging all his weight on top of you, pleading over and over for more.

“Anything,” he growls. “I’ll give you anything.”

Your nails dig into his back, and you cry out his name. He swears, loud and deep and stutters above you.

With a satisfied sigh he collapses, burying his face in your neck. You can’t resist running your hands through his hair, feeling his heart race against your chest. You lay there together in the cramped space, breathing each other in until he lifts his head and your eyes lock.

“I love you baby,” he whispers against your lips.

“Love you too Buck.”

“Come on,” he says, gently helping you up and fixing what he can of your clothing. His touch is a soft caress, and you lean into it.

“Let’s get you home doll. I’ll make dinner and then you can be my dessert.”

[thinemoonshine]

୨୧ 𝓼𝐮𝐥𝐤𝐲 𝓼𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲! ୨୧

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ where enhypen messed up and has to turn (y/n)’s frown upside down…or they get the unfathomable horror: the silent treatment

enhypen hyung line x fem!enhypen 8th member content(s): light angst, dramatic members, clingy lovey enha, sunghoon gets bitten, (y/n) being doted on, fluffity fluff, they are so lovesick boys coded here type: imagine

note: this work is based off of ૮꒰ྀིthis꒱ྀིა ask! i tried to make it ot7 but i cannot, for the life of me, imagine (y/n) arguing with the maknae line. so sorry about that!! </3

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

heeseung's large doe eyes shift towards (y/n) from the TV screen much too frequently as they both sit at opposite sides of the couch. their distance is only a leg's length away but the frostiness in which (y/n) portrays makes it seem as if a single inch will give him frostbite.

who knew that eating the last ice cream could create such catastrophic casualty?

heeseung. heeseung knew. and yet he still did it.

it was a fair deal, the eight each get their own flavour of ice cream so that no arguments would ensue but (y/n), unlike the others, had to leave hers because she had a schedule—excited to have a cold, refreshing dessert after coming back.

but lo and behold, she comes back to a freezing, barren freezer—much like her stomach.

the culprit: lee heeseung himself, who claims that he assumed that (y/n) didn't wanna eat it.

and what did that get him?

pure, utter silent wrath—which he finds much, much scarier than the loud.

"(y/n)..." heeseung tries for the fifth time in the past 15 minutes and still, she's managed to act as if he isn't there. never before has she been so upset and it daunts him. how long is she gonna stay like this? it's only been minutes and he's already feeling like he's about to perish from her frigidity. "(y/n), i'm sorry. i'll buy you more! what ever type you want, as much as you want!"

now that gets him a reaction—although, different than what he expected.

she turns to him and he's just about to smile only for the corners of his lips to drop at the sight of her glare.

"you think that's gonna fix everything? of course, we can buy some more, that's obvious! that's not the problem! the problem here is you eating my food!" (y/n) seethes, brows knit and eyes sharpened. "do you know how exhausted i was after my schedule? i was so excited to go home and rest with my cold sweet snack to freshen me up but then suddenly, GONE."

heeseung cowers, hands gathered on his lap as his big, round eyes widen guiltily, brows droopy and bottom lip subtly sticking out. "i'm sorry...i just thought that you didn't want it anymore..."

the sound of her exasperated sigh only increases the weight in his chest but it becomes ten times worse when he sees her slumping back against the couch to not speak to him again.

no no no no, she was already talking to him! now, it's just gonna get worse.

"i should've asked first and i should've told you that i ate your ice cream," heeseung quickly says, fully determined to gain her forgiveness despite being just slightly prideful before.

he bites his lip, practically chewing on it but then perks when he sees her glancing at him. mustering up his courage, he scoots a little closer and feels hopeful when she doesn't seem to mind. "and! and i'll let you do yaja time for the whole day if i ever do something like this again."

now that, she likes. turning her head slowly with her crossed arms loosening, a small cheeky smile appears and gosh, does the sight of it lightens him so much.

"no take backs," she confirms to which he nods at with a tight lip grin of surrender but the moment she cheers and wraps her arms around him, he knows he'll let her have yaja time anytime if she only just asks.

heeeseung chuckles against her ear as he reciprocates the embrace before she pulls away to lie on his lap to which he takes advantage of to play with her hair. he knows how much the gesture relaxes her—hoping that it'd be enough to rid off her exhaustion.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

this is it. this is the end for him.

never ever had he ever thought the day would come—the day that (y/n) and him argue.

it’s not as dramatic as he makes it seem but it sure is for him considering how he and (y/n) are always on the same page. so to have them turning the other way from each other is disastrous.

this morning, the two were making breakfast together alongside sunghoon and riki after they lost a game. jay and (y/n) were in the kitchen while riki and sunghoon were getting the stuff from the nearby mart.

all (y/n) wanted was to wash the dishes but jay, ever so gentlemanly jay, insisted that he do the dirty work while she just get the tools ready.

call it morning moodiness or whatever, but (y/n) was not having it.

“what’s wrong with me doing the dishes?” (y/n) asked, brows knit with slight irritation.

“nothing. it’s just better for me to do it while you get the stuff for cooking ready,” jay answered.

(y/n) crossed her arms. “and why is it better for you to do it? oh, so apparently i’m bad at cleaning now.”

“i never said that!” the other denied, a frown present as well.

“then let me do what i wanna do,” the girl adamantly said to which jay sighed heavily at followed with a frustrated, “can’t you just stop the attitude?”

and that was when the horrible, bone-eating, mind plaguing, day-nightmare started: the silent treatment.

it’s afternoon now and jay can’t seem to find (y/n) anywhere around him—like he’s some sort of personal virus to her. the clothes he’s folding has never felt more heavier and the stacks he’s made are messy, barely proper squares of folded clothing.

usually, (y/n) would be around to accompany him—making hot drinks and bringing snacks to feed him since he has to keep his hands clean. he’d be sitting with soft hums leaving him every once in a while as she talks his ears off.

and sometimes, when there aren’t any undergarments in the basket, (y/n) helps with folding too—undoubtedly making even prettier stacks to which jay is both proud and jealous of.

her absence is palpable. and the silence is anything but tranquil—stifling and ridiculing him for being such a coward.

beep beep beep beep!

his head snaps towards the door at the sound of their automated door lock. are the members home already?

and in comes a—no, the member: (y/n).

she nearly pauses in her tracks when she steps into the living room, inevitably making eye contact with jongseong but she’s quick to feign indifference—and it hurts. little does she know that he feels the same if not more.

“…where are the rest?” jay initiates a conversation and (y/n), with her back on him as she puts down her bag on the counter, subtly loosens up. her stiff shoulders relax just at the mere sound of his voice.

“they’re filming some tiktok challenge. didn’t feel like joining,” (y/n) answers and jay intends to ask more about it but is interrupted by her swift “i’m sorry.”

his eyes widen subtly, brows raise and he watches as she slowly turns to face him with her hands pressed on the counter she leans against.

“i know you were just trying to give me the easy work by doing the dishes. i shouldn’t have been so worked up,” she apologizes sincerely, tone heavy with remorse and jay smiles softly at that.

then, he puts away the towel he’s holding to spread his arms wide open—tender gaze melting her significantly so and she approaches with airy steps before being pulled by jay into him.

jay sighs as he buries his face into her hair while his fingers comb through comfortingly. his other arm is securely wrapped around her waist as she reciprocates the hug.

“don’t. don’t apologize. after all, i should’ve let you do what you wanted,” jay assures as he leans back slightly so (y/n) can comfortably rest against him—his arms practically engulfing her whole into his chest and he can’t help but feel a flutter.

it feels…nice to just hold her close like this. to feel her warmth, to hear her gentle breathing, to be reciprocated so endearingly and just be so uncritically affectionate of one another.

he smiles at that as he feels the life being rekindled in his soul and spirit, arms tightening around her.

“…i don’t feel like doing the dishes now, though.”

“we’ll dump it on the rest.”

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

he’s never felt such anguish before. sure, this situation’s reminiscent to when the members cast him aside for his birthday surprise but that ended on a happy note.

this? this he doesn’t know how it’s going to end.

he didn’t mean to, he swears. he just got o too competitive with the game that he ended up neglecting (y/n)—pushing her away when she wanted to share some insight because he thinks his way is the best.

sure, he got his victory, but at what cost? in the end, it still feels like he lost.

they’re now hanging at (y/n)’s apartment during their once in a while visits considering she lives separately. but the hostess herself isn’t around. she’s locked in her room ‘to sleep’, she said, but jake’s not buying it.

he knows she’s probably mad at him for this morning’s en-o’clock recording and is refusing to even look at him. the thought makes him nervously gnaw on his bottom lip as he distractedly stares at the others playing with the jenga block.

cheers and groans erupt in the room when the build falls and jake stands on his feet, unable to take the tension in his form and the loud noises in his head, and heads to the hallway where (y/n)’s room and bathroom are at.

away from the members’ eyes, he then softly knocks at her door and her instant, “who is it?” solidifies his theory of her being fully awake and avoiding him.

his brows knit and tilt at the ends, dejection growing, before he answers. “it’s…jake.”

a pregnant pause before the door swings open to reveal (y/n) who seems rather indifferent, a complete juxtaposition from the other with shifty, nervous puppy eyes that plead for entry.

her stepping aside and widening the gap of the door mean permit to which he quickly yet gingerly accepts.

she hasn’t even closed the door yet before he instantly spouts, “i’m sorry.”

the door clicks behind her and she leans against it to face jake who’s sitting so politely at the edge of her bed—legs pressed together, back straight and hands on his lap as he looks up at her through long overgrown bangs.

“i’m sorry, (y/n). i-i didn’t mean to…” is all he says before lowering his head and clenching his fists.

the sight both warms and aches her to which she reacts with a sigh—instantly alarming the other who snaps his head back up to see her approaching. he tenses, ready to apologize again, ready to mention the full details on how he shouldn’t have been so hard-headed and selfish and—

oh.

his eyes shut unconsciously when her fingers gently rake his hair back to free his beautiful eyes and forehead. he nearly forgets the words in his head from the pure relief and delight that fills him.

lashes flutter as he slowly opens his eyes back to sweetly gaze up at (y/n) with a look she truly believes to be criminal with how overwhelmingly adorable it is—puppy eyes searching hers for comfort, cheeks glowy and lips pouty.

he makes her want to physically squeeze him until he pops!

so she does—as much as she can, anyways.

hands cup his pretty face as she squeezes just enough to put pressure and make his lips stick out like a pufferfish’s.

a little confused “hm?” sounds from jake as he furrows but the sight of the smile on her face instantly evokes his own—breaking into a wide grin with the corners of his lips curling as he stays between her palms practically buzzing with glee.

“just don’t do that again,” (y/n) warns and he nods vigorously before shutting his eyes again to fully melt into her hands.

if only she knew how close he was to just bawling his eyes out if she rejected his apology. he can’t imagine living without her attention like this.

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

ice and ice. truly ice ice baby—but with a negative connotation.

sunghoon and (y/n) almost never argue, the two always having similar outlooks or just accepting the other but this time, that wasn’t the case.

the rarer the arguments mean the heavier they are whenever it happens. and it’s so painfully blatant because everyone can sense and see the tension that stretches between sunghoon and (y/n).

one slight pull and it might just snap!

it’s hard to miss, of course. the way his eyes narrow at her and the way her gaze shifts to a glare, the way she steers clear of his space just as he does to her and the most obvious one of all: he doesn’t dote on her like how he usually would.

sunghoon, self-proclaimed (y/n)’s big brother, would always show his affections in one way or another. whether by making sure she’s fed, or by doing his favourite habit of putting his whole hand on top of her head—fingers sprawled and all as his palm covers her crown.

it doesn’t even have to be a pat or anything—just grabbing her scalp and voila! that’s it.

so the fact that he hasn’t done it at all today, is a dead giveaway on their argument.

and so obviously, the members had to send them both on grocery duty. sure, they all went together but they’re so adamant in asking sunghoon and (y/n) to search for some specific stuff on the list together.

“what type of sauce do they want again?” (y/n) asks monotonously, not even bothered to look at sunghoon while stands a few steps away with his hands in his jacket’s pockets.

he pulls the list out. “***** brand.”

the girl hums and chooses it before passing it to the other without making a single eye contact. sunghoon, obviously, returns the favour.

and this routine goes on and on until eventually, sunghoon’s had enough.

he can’t do this. not anymore. not another second of this torture. he feels as if his heart is being torn apart before being harshly shredded to pieces and finally being blended into a juice of depression.

seeing (y/n) so unfeeling around him is so foreign. he hates it. he doesn’t want her hating him. no, that’s the last thing he wants. he can’t digest that.

it’s clear when it starts bothering him because sunghoon’s beginning to glance at her every once in a while. when previously all he wanted was to ignore and be ignored, now all he wants is to see and be seen.

whenever (y/n) puts stuff in the trolley, his eyes follow her every movement. when she asks him for the things on the list, he answers with his gaze set on her—hoping she’ll turn away from the shelf and onto him. and when he sees her favourite snacks, he quietly yet excruciatingly slowly puts it in the cart with a silent plea for her to notice.

and she does. but she doesn’t comment.

still, she isn’t heartless. so she asks, “we finished the list. you want anything else?”

“for you to forgive me,” sunghoon murmurs but the emptiness of the isle they’re in amplifies it.

she finally looks at him, surprised, and it’s doubled when she sees him already looking at her.

he wears a solemn yet sad mien. the bobs of his adam apple expose the vulnerability he feels and (y/n) lets out a deep breath before walking towards him.

“i’m sorry,” he says genuinely and his hand twitches by his side as he restrains from reaching out to pat her head.

it’s not overlooked by the other however, and instead of verbally responding to his apology, she instead cups his hand in both of hers—his flinching at the sudden hold—before she lifts it up to put it on her crown.

sunghoon breaks into a slow grin—eyes upturning and one corner of his lips lifting higher than the other into an endearing smirk—before he ruffles her hair, only to fix it back after.

he chuckles from relief but it’s cut short by a brief grunt at the sudden chomp on his arm. his eyes are wide and lips agape as he stares at (y/n) who’s latched her teeth onto his arm that’s raised to caress her head.

he blinks. she blinks back before slowly pulling away.

“forgiveness tax.”

and all he can do is shake his head with an amused scoff at her absurdity.

“i guess i deserve that.”

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog— they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[karalovesallthegirls]

Kara has always dreaded the day she’d meet her soulmate. 

There’s relief in knowing she has one, of course. The person meant for her didn’t die with Krypton. That’s something! Even still, it’s hard to feel excited for the moment they meet, because that’s the moment Kara will hurt them. She’s had their exclamation of pain inked into her skin for as long as she’s been on Earth. In some ways it’s better. Most people have phrases like “good morning” or “hold the door please” as their soulmate’s first words. They have to endure hundreds of almosts, breath held just in case that stranger really is the one. Kara won’t have to do that. Her words are far too distinct.

It's agony, thinking about how their meeting will go. She spends years imagining every possible scenario, each one more painful than the last, yet the day it happens she barely even registers it. The words wash right over her, drowned out by the loud crack as her hand makes sudden contact with a stranger's face. The telltale crunch of contact shocks her. She hadn't registered anyone was there during her dramatic retelling, otherwise she would have kept her gestures small. She wouldn't have flung her hand out with such force.

The woman she's hit is hunched over, clutching at her face. She gasped loud and sharp when it hit, and now she's just wheezily breathing in shock. Kara can see blood starting to drip down her wrist.

“Did you," the woman gasps, and her voice sounds wet. "Did you just break my nose?” Kara wants to die.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I am so sorry!”

People are looking at them and the woman keeps cursing under her breath and Kara really, really doesn’t know what to do. Her hands hover uselessly over the hunched figure, desperate to soothe but scared to touch in a moment like this. “I didn’t mean to – I was telling a story and I got too excited with my hands I guess, I didn’t see you there. Are you- can I-”

She looks to Alex for guidance, but she’s just staring at the interaction with a wide-eyed wonder. Typically her sister knows what to do in a scary situation, but now she’s looking just as clueless. They’re both barely awake at this point – it’s six in the morning and they’ve been at this airport terminal since midnight, miserably watching their red eye flight push into a mid-day departure. They’re both half-delirious, which is fun when you’re goofing off but less so when you’ve just broken a stranger’s nose. 

And then it hits her. The words she’s carried on her arm for so many years are tingling, she realizes, and they’ve been tingling from the second her skin met the girl’s. 

Did you did you just break my nose?

“Oh wow,” Kara says, dumbfounded. “It’s you.” The woman falls silent. She must be realizing too Kara thinks as she fumbles with her sleeve, pushing it up enough to show her inked arm. The woman's eyes drop to the tattoo that's brought such shame to Kara for so long. She feels her eyes like a touch. “I – I’m so happy to meet you! I’m so sorry it happened like this.” She laughs and it sounds strained. Her hands are shaking. The woman doesn't look up from her arm.

Even hunched over in pain, it's clear the woman is beautiful. Important, even, considering how she's dressed. She's dressed like she's en route to lead a business conference, her tight black skirt and matching blazer scream business professional. Though the effects are tampered a bit by the splattering of blood that’s dripped down her white blouse. Kara wonders how old she is to be dressed like that. She must be older to look like that. At nearly nineteen, Kara has never had anything more than a graduation to dress nicely for, and even then she wore her stained dress pants. This woman - her soulmate - must be much older than her, which feels strange to think. She looks Kara's age, maybe even younger. If not for how clearly tailored to her body her clothes are, she'd almost look like she was playing dress up.

Kara feels self-conscious then, sharply aware of how she must look to her soulmate. As smart as it felt to come to the airport in pajamas for her all-night flight, standing in rubber duck pajama pants while trying to have a conversation with her goddess of a soulmate did little for Kara's confidence.

When Kara’s eyes finally track back up to her face, she finds sharp green ones staring back. They're the prettiest eyes she's ever seen, and they don't seem interested in looking away. That's fine with her - she's more than content to stare right back.

It's only the soft plop of blood hitting tile that draws her attention back to her crime, and she can see the way the woman's hands have become covered in blood. "Oh gosh, here - let me…”  Kara fumbles in her backpack for a moment with no clear plan. All she knows is she has to do something to fix this. She fumbles about before pulling out a clean t-shirt. “Here. For the-” She holds it out to the girl and gestures at her own face. Slowly, like she’s scared Kara might grab her or something, the woman takes the offered shirt. She wipes the blood from her face and hands, dabbing beneath her nose. The bleeding seems to have stopped, at least, and the shirt helps contain what's escaped. Watching a stranger wipe blood on her high school band t-shirt shouldn’t thrill Kara as much as it does, and yet.

Kara laughs again, the sound nervous and high-pitched, before taking a step towards her. Her soulmate’s eyes go wide, tracking her movements, and Kara's heart clenches when she steps away. The rapid race of her soulmate's heart beats into Kara's ear - she can literally hear her fear. She holds her hands up in surrender, stepping back to where she’d been before. The last thing she wants is for her to be afraid. “Does it hurt?” she asks, and her soulmate shakes her head no. “That’s good. That’s good. I- uh." She has nothing more to say, and her soulmate's certainly not contributing. Kara’s palms are sweating. She hasn’t sweat since she was thirteen, but one look from this person has her rubbing her hands on her pajama pants like a middle schooler at a dance.

The woman finishes wiping up and lets her arms fall, blessing Kara with her first real look at her face. Bloodied and skittish, she’s beautiful in a way Kara can hardly comprehend, in a way she could never imagine. Kara's pretty sure she's blushing now for some reason, and she has to flex her toes to be sure she’s still touching the ground. “My name’s Kara,” she says, and then gestures over her shoulder. “That’s my sister Alex. We’re flying home for winter break. Midvale - Midvale is home for us. Where- where are you flying to?”

The woman stares and stares, and Kara's starting to panic thinking she'd given her soulmate a head injury that's muted her somehow, when at last the woman speaks just barely above a whisper.

“Home,” she says. It feels like her heart might burst just from hearing that one stilted word. Kara wants to hear a thousand more, wants to hear nothing else for the rest of her life.

“That’s awesome. W-where’s home for you?” The woman's lip trembles as she opens her mouth, closes it, and then opens it again.

 “I’m sorry,” she says, and then throws the t-shirt at Kara’s face. 

Kara fumbles catching it, distracted by the shock and gross factor of having a blood-soaked shirt hurled at her face, and it takes her far too many precious seconds to realize her soulmate is gone. Bewildered, Kara looks around before just catching sight of her vanishing around the corner, high heels and racing heart clattering away. She looks at Alex. Alex waves at her, frantic. “Go!” Alex yells, and Kara takes off.

Pretending to be a human has never been harder than it is while chasing after her soulmate. Normal human pace - especially what's acceptable at an airport - is not fast enough for this, not when the woman has already gotten so far ahead. Kara must look ridiculous, bursting into sprints only to trip suddenly into a walk over and over again, her ears locked on to the thudding heartbeat and faint whispers of her soulmate mumbling, “crap crap crap crap,” ahead.

Kara’s thankful they’re in an airport, at least. Her soulmate can’t just run outside, and Kara is fine embracing the romcom trope of following her love onto the plane. Her soulmate stops moving ahead and Kara speeds up, nearly wiping out twice tripping over luggage and small children. Her heart is in her throat as she clears the corner her soulmate is behind and pushes her way into the door she's passed through. All the wind knocks out of her lungs then when she sees her again. The woman looks up at her in shock, as if she didn't think Kara would chase her. As if Kara would just let her go. With a visible gulp, her soulmate flees around a corner and disappears out of sight. Kara manages a single step forward before a body blocks her way, and she looks up to see a massive security guard staring down at her.

“Membership card, please.”

Kara tries to peer around him. He steps in her way, cutting her vision off. Her soulmate led her into some private place you can't just walk into, she realizes, glancing around at the sleek appearance and exclusive atmosphere. “I- uh, left my card in my other bag,” she says, gesturing back over her shoulder. She can hear her soulmate’s breathing and it's all she can focus on. She’s right there. Just out of sight. Kara is so close. “I’m afraid you need your card to enter the fly lounge,” he says sternly. He starts pushing gently at her, trying to nudge her back out of the sliding glass door she’s come in. Kara almost forgets to let him move her. “I- I’m sorry, someone I need to talk to just went in there and I-” She stops in the doorway, hand firm on the wall. She can hear the way the guard huffs against her solid pressure. She’s not acting very human right now and she knows it.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, ma’am," he says, pushing more forcefully against her. Forceful enough that she knows she has to move even as all her instincts war against it. “Can- can I buy a membership? Like a day pass or something?”

The guard looks over at the front desk, making eye contact with a woman who looks like she would rather watch Kara be flayed alive than allowed another step inside.

“A day membership is $189 plus tax,” she whines out in a nasally voice, tone making clear she already knows Kara won’t be affording that. Which is accurate. Kara barely has enough to buy a meal. 

Looks like her soulmate is rich, then.

The man nudges her back again and a flash of panic echoes through her chest. For a moment, she envisions herself throwing him out the open door, tossing aside anything or anyone that tries to keep her from her future. But she’s already scared her soulmate enough for one day, so she smiles with forced bashfulness and allows herself to be walked back out of the lounge.

The frosted glass door marked High Flyers Club Lounge shuts her out mockingly. But it’s fine! Eventually her soulmate’s flight time will be here and she’ll have no choice but to come out and face her. Kara just has to be patient. (Kara hates being patient.)

She takes a seat against the wall across from the lounge entrance. Her glasses rest low on her nose as she stares her soulmate, soaking in every inch of her as she paces in the luxurious lounge. Her heart is racing, she seems on the edge of a panic attack, and Kara wants desperately to be in there with her talking her down. But she can’t, so she’s left to watch – at least until the girl steps into the private restroom. She stops watching after that. Instead, she settles down to listen to the comforting beat of her soulmate’s heart, closer now than it’s ever been.

Her mind wanders as she waits, mentally reviewing every moment of their interaction. Considering where she failed, where she succeeded. Making lists about what to say to her next. She never got her name, for one thing, and she still doesn’t know where her home is. There’s so much for her to learn.

Her mental meandering is so consuming that it takes her a bit to realize the heartbeat has moved farther away. At first she thinks her soulmate is just moving around the club, but no- she’s moving away from the airport.  A quick glance through walls shows her that her soulmate isn’t in the club anymore. The heartbeat is elevating, she realizes, and Kara runs to the glass wall just in time to see the plane - small, private, with an apparent access point from within the lounge – take off. 

Horror and confusion overwhelm her, bringing tears to her eyes. This doesn't make sense. Why would she just leave without saying a word? Why would her soulmate do that? It's almost unbearable, the pain of it. She doesn’t know how long she stands there, face pressed to the glass, listening as the heartbeat grows quieter and quieter before vanishing all together.

Kara learns a lot about grief after that. 

She knew a lot already – far more than any one person should ever know – but that grief carried a different weight. The loss of her people wasn't a choice by them. They didn't want to die. The loss of her soulmate is its own beast, sharp and cruel in her heart, because this time the person she mourns chose to abandon her. Her soulmate chose to leave. She saw Kara that morning and decided that one look was enough, that Kara wasn't worth any more of her time. She left her there with nothing but a bloody t-shirt and a thousand questions. Kara never even learned her name.

She goes through the stages – she feels her anger burning out in her eyes, feels the sorrow take hold. She denies it, she bargains with everyone, anyone. She calls the Flyer’s Club, tries calling the FAA. She tracks flight logs and makes cold calls and still finds nothing at all. She writes about it on soulmate websites and Medium articles, casting a wide net so that someday when – if, her mind reminds her. if if if - her soulmate ever looks she’ll be able to find her.  

Time dulls the sharpness, though, and the years shift that rejected feeling into a more muted anger. Kara doesn't care about the love lost. She doesn't care if the person is her other half. All she cares about is the anger. Finding her feels more like a hunt than a quest for love – she’s got a lot to say to the other woman when they finally meet again. She just wants one more meeting, that’s all. Just enough time to tell her exactly where she can go. Kara doesn’t need a soulmate, after all. Her life is full of love and joy and adventure, and she doesn’t need another person to complete her. She graduates college with a degree in English, minor in Journalism – her attempts to track down her soulmate really ignite the journalistic bug in her, and with Clark’s constant encouragement it feels inevitable. She moves to a big city despite her small-town fears and she gets a job almost no one survives. Kara is thriving.

It almost shocks her, then, the way her heart trips over itself when she sees her again.

They’re watching the trial, her and Alex, and Alex is halfway through a lecture on how she’d always known Lex Luthor was evil by the way he wore his pants – (“Good guys don’t wear their pants that high, Kara, it’s common sense.”) – when Kara's nerves jolt like a lightning bolt has rushed through her. Her gasp is so sharp Alex screams almost in sympathy. 

“What? What is it?” Alex yells at her, looking around for some danger lurking nearby. Kara tumbles to the floor practically crawling to the television screen. Someone new has taken the stand, someone she'd recognize anywhere.

“Alex,” she says, jamming her finger against the somewhat grainy image projected on her television. “It's her.” “What!” “My soulmate!" Kara knows it like she knows herself, even after all this time. She looks different. Six years of struggle sit clear in her hard gaze, her mouth twisted into solemn resignation. She looks almost casual on the stand, sitting comfortably despite the eyes of the world on her. Like it's just a regular conversation. Like she’s not about to help send her brother to prison for life. “Lena Luthor, sister of the defendant” reads the helpful banner beneath her grim face. Even after everything, Kara is struck by her. She's breathtaking. Kara kind of hates her for it. “Hold on, that’s- you barely even saw her when you met! You don’t know for sure.” Alex sounds desperate, which is fair. The younger sister of the man who tried to kill Superman is certainly not an ideal soulmate for someone like Kara, but it doesn't matter. It's her. “I’m sure,” she says, and feels the truth of it deep in her bones.

A giggle hits her then that's so inappropriate for the moment it makes her feel crazy, but she can't help it. As Lena Luthor begins to explain the piles of evidence she’s gathered against her brother, Kara giggles away. She feels almost drunk on it, smug and satisfied. “Found you,” she says, almost like a taunt. She drags her finger over the screen, feeling the static of her ancient television biting back at her as she caresses Lena Luthor's face. The anger that’s long settled inside of her seems to reignite with every charged word Lena speaks against her brother, with every glance she makes at the camera. She can feel Alex’s nervous energy behind her but she doesn’t care. The politics of this, the implications - none of it matters to Kara. What matters is she has a name, and she has a general location. She's so close she can practically taste it. “See you soon, soulmate,” Kara whispers, and for a second it feels almost like Lena is staring right back.

[noisyghost]

(I started sketching this design nearly immediately after season 2 ended but just now had some time to clean it up so. Excuse me rambling out loud here)

TLDR; I actually really liked the initial design + direction for Warwick-Vander (I <3 human faced werewolves)! But the show design kinda felt like a transitory state between Vander and Warwick to me, so I wanted to try my hand at blending his Arcane design with his in game design. Like a "what would he look like if the transformation kept going" kinda thing. There's a few things I'm not fully settled on, but Im mostly satisfied :)

(rambling under the readmore, its 3 am as i type this lol)

When season 2 first started, I sort of had it in my head that the narrative would have Vander "die" for Warwick to finish the transformation into his final form, forcing Vi and Jinx to finally say goodbye together. Well! That didn't happen lol. I mean. Vander did "die", but whatever was left behind isn't really Warwick. I'm not quite sure what they were going for, either with him or with how Jinx "dies", its all just a little messy when i feel like there was a more obvious narrative conclusion.

Visually i think the final design in the show is cool removed from context, but it doesn't really make sense to me in regards to the story. Like. Warwicks whole thing is that he curbs his violent impulses by killing "bad guys" in the undercity. League lore is a hot fucking mess and I don't even go there so I get that they (the writers) were playing fast and loose but I can see why so many Warwick fans were less than pleased with where the show leaves him, because it doesn't really feel like the same character outside of his initial experimentation.

In my own idea palace, Jinx fakes her death and leaves Warwick to be Zaun's new mascot. Having this literal monster that eats bad guys and saves innocent people in the process become a new symbol for Zaun feels like a no brainer to me. Imagine the iconography they'd make for this thing! And it brings Vanders whole schtick back around; he still "dies" but the Literal Memory of him lives on in Zaun, still protecting the people he cared about most. You get the bittersweet ending of Vi and Jinx having to move on because hes not really their dad anymore, but their memory is what keeps Warwick "human", still with Zaun even if Vi is doing Piltover shit and Jinx is off exploring the world.

Idk! I know the implication that Jinx faked her death is there, but whatever happens to Warwick seems to be like they didnt really have the time to fully explore the ideas they were going for, so a couple characters just got kinda left floating at the end there. If Ekko and Jinx werent going to run away together, I wanted to see Ekko befriending Warwick so they could fight to make Zaun a better place.

I have more coherent ideas than this but it's 3 am when im typing this so sorry if im not eloquent enough to properly explain what im thinking. Ekko and his weird dog that used to be his uncle. Imagine.

[tender-rosiey]

hii, hope im not bothering uu!!

my brain is obsessed with ur daddy gojo ficsss!! 🤭🤭 just a thought though. what if gojo brought his kid to work since reader couldnt hire a babysitter and had work to do!! 😱😱 kid can be a baby or like, 7-10?? or something? (idrc i jus need to feed my head with more dad gojo fics 😔😔, kid can be a girl or boy!!) hopee u have a nice dayyy!! ❤❤

missing – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I wrote the kid being around 5 or 6 max, I think?? hope you like this as well! <3

you are standing at the door, checking over everything with your husband, "satoru, you got the toys?"

like the proud and confident dad he is, he replies with ease, "yep."

"the snacks?"

“of course,” he grins, pulling up the bag of snacks and toys to show you.

but you’re still stressing, "what about—“

"wifey, relax!” he starts rubbing your shoulders soothingly; “I got everything she needs. you have nothing to worry about,” he presses a loud kiss to your cheek.

"last time you said that, you teleported with d/n to the maldives."

he laughs loudly, before pulling you into a big hug, "aww, babe; I said I am sorry,” he is swaying the both of you, “you know I wanted you to be with us."

"that's not the point!"

"oh wowie, look at the time!” he looks at his fake watch and starts gently pushing you towards the car, “you’re gonna be late sweetheart."

"oh god!" you gasp, quickly giving satoru his goodbye kiss, and running to your daughter to give her own goodbye peck on the cheek as well, “I will miss you; take care of dada, okay?”

“aren’t I the one who is supposed to do that taking care part?!”

“bye ‘toru; bye d/n! love you!”

“love you too!” they both reply in unison before looking each other in the eye. satoru grins at her, “do you want to see uncle nanami?”

“nanamin!” she squeals then runs to god knows where.

soon, they finally get to jujutsu tech.

it took longer than usual because the little missy ran off and decided to play hide and seek. in addition to that, since the madlives incident, you banned satoru from teleporting with d/n because it gets her really dizzy and she starts puking.

so like the common people, he takes a car and has to wait till they arrive there. he wants to grumble, but, at least, his princess is there to play with him and make conversations.

they are finally in class when nobara coos, crouching down in front of d/n, “oh, you’re so cute!”

the little girl grins, “thank you!”

“also, I love your dress!”

“oh; thank you!” d/n gasps and starts twirling around, “mommy picked it for me! It’s so pretty, right?” nobara nods eagerly at her and it makes d/n giggle.

d/n pauses for a moment, a pout on her face and eyes get teary, and looks at satoru, “mommy…”

satoru pats her head, “we will see her soon; don’t worry.”

“wow; I am surprised you’re acting like a proper dad,” megumi comments, waving at d/n who grins back at him.

swiftly, yuuji defends his teacher’s pride, “hey! sensei is a great dad!”

d/n starts swinging her arms around and running in place like she is preparing for something. soon. it is revealed what she is waiting for. the door opens and she launches herself at the new guest, “nanamin!”

nanami effortlessly catches her and secures his hold on her, “d/n, that was dangerous; what if you got hurt?”

she looks down with yet another pout, “I know…’am sorry. just missed you.”

nanami sighs before patting her head, “it’s alright,” a tiny smile creeps up, “are you having fun so far?”

she nods happily and starts rambling about how cool nobara is or how much fun yuuji is to be around. meanwhile, satoru is standing in a corner with his arms crossed and grumbling, “that’s my daughter, you know.”

“imagine losing your daughter’s affection to someone else,” megumi pops up from behind satoru.

he retorts with no hesitation, “imagine not having a father.”

satoru looks petrified at megumi who is so very offended. satoru starts mini-panicking, “wait—megumi, I was kidding!”

“divine dogs.”

satoru shrieks and d/n squeals, pointing at him, “minmin, daddy’s playing with ‘gumi’s dogs!”

nanami averts his attention to gojo playing (read: being attacked). he nods slowly at the suffering man, “he is having so much fun; isn’t he?”

 “yay!” she throws her arms in the air.

nobara snaps a picture of d/n, “she’s adorable!”

yuuji sobs beside her, “I know right?!”

that was at the beginning of the day, but, right now, satoru has to attend a meeting for some reason with the higher-ups, including yaga. though, it hardly counts as a proper one considering that satoru laid out d/n toys so she can play with him.

“daddy, you’re not supposed to give him the green shirt; he needs the blue one.”

satoru quickly obeys, “yes ma’am,” and he changes the doll into his fabulous blue outfit. d/n giggles and holds his face to kiss his cheek.

one of the higher-ups clears his throat, “refrain from such disrespectful behavior during the meeting, gojo.”

satoru smiles humorlessly at the elder, “last time I checked, my daughter’s happiness is a lot more important than the nonsense you spout every single time.”

d/n carefully makes her way down the table and pulls on satoru’s pants, “daddy, toilet, please.”

“this was a fun meeting!” he beams, collecting d/n’s toys in her bag, “I have more urgent matters to attend to so adieu!” he mock bows, before bending to pick his daughter up, “let’s go princess.”

the door closes after satoru and d/n leave, and everyone looks at yaga. he takes a deep breath, “listen, that's his daughter. asking him not to pamper her is like asking a cat to let go of her kittens. you will get bit.”

time passes and satoru is chilling with d/n in the common room. she is laying on his lap and curled around herself. she groggily looks up to him, “when are we going to see mommy?”

he starts stroking her hair, “soon; I promise,” he takes out a candid picture he took of you and hands it to her, “how about you take this until we go back home and see mommy?”

she nods slowly and hugs the photo close. satoru smiles softly and presses a kiss to her forehead. not much after, d/n falls asleep with your photo secure in her hold.

it makes satoru chuckle. it reminds him of how he can never sleep without you either.

that’s why when he goes on mission, he scrolls endlessly through your photos until sleep takes over him or he listens to any voice message you sent. it helps him with the dilemma of missing you, and he is glad it helps his daughter the same way.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[deadghosy]

Hear me out

What about a moth! reader

Like the moth from sky! Children of the light that likes to fly around the hotel and honk at people sense they can't speak

And them giving candles as a way to ask"do you wanna be friends??"

(this is my first time ever requesting something so sorry if it doesn't make sense, feel free to ignore this く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡)

……ANON MARRY ME RN CAUSE I USE TO PLAY THE HELL OUT OF THAT GAME!! RN MARRY ME

HAZBIN HOTEL X MOTH COTL! READER

prompt: a cute moth character enters the ring of hell due to a malfunction of the realms

STORY MODE: you were celebrating days of love as your ikemen softly puts a flower crown on your head as you honk happily. You hugged the Ikemen as he hugs you back, lifting you for a hug spin as he chuckles lowly.

He lifted you on his back as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He pointed towards the valley realm as they wanted to celebrate your one year anniversary together. You started to spam honk excitedly as the Ikemen nods and runs into the realm. But something went wrong.

END OF STORY MODE: You just stand there as you smell blood and fire in the air. You were confused as you didn’t see your beloved Ikemen anywhere which made you honk out loud…you didn’t see their name either. You inhaled all the air you could and let out a big HONK! That got you the attention of a fellow moth man who smirked behind you. You jolted with a quick honk as Valentino poked your mask. “My my my~ what a cute little thing you are.” Valentino says picking you up like a child.

You didn’t want to die so immediately you pulled out your candle. That made Valentino drawn to the candle as he squeaks happily at the candle and take it. Before Valentino could talk to you, an arm grabbed you and sped away.

Who was the culprit who took you, it was Angel dust in his pink scooter. (A/n: don’t question the scooter) Angel heard that big ass honk and a light as he was curious and went to go look for it only to see you shaking in Valentino’s hold. He didn’t want to save you, but your small frame was shaking and he couldn’t stand it so he had to save you.

And now you are part of the hotel’s crew as they greet you with open arms.

Angel loves you dearly, you immediately warmed up to him giving him a bright white candle as his eyes shined at the light of the candle shaping like a heart. So when Angel took it and it dissolved in his hands. You were so happy you kept spam hugging him.

You literally follow all the members like a first time moth, holding out a candle as you want more friends!

Fat nuggets just oinks and follows you. You pet the cute demon pig who licks your hand back

CHARLIE LOVESSS YOUU😭💗 she picked you up and you honk hugging her back.

Vaggie admires you as well. You seem like a reliable person to bring hopes up.

Lucifer adores you..I mean you are just so affectionate. He immediately accepted the candle and he lifted you up. Kissing your head and gushing over you with tears yelling “I WANNA ADOPT THEM!”

I headcannon Charlie and Lucifer debating which color scheme suits you better as they try to take off your brown moth cape as you honk at them.

I always headcannon skykid moths to be at least like 4’9 and every time they gain winged light they get taller. 🦆✨but since you aren’t in the Sky cotl universe, you are so small so literally they treat you like a kid.

You know like your light decreases when a dark creature hits it or like basically darkness. (Especially during that damn fire trial😐) I can imagine moth! Reader having a night light that Lucifer made you with a duck light shining on the ceiling so you feel safe.

Husk doesn’t even understand what the fuck you are doing by honking at him and following him around constantly with a bright ass white candle.

Husk eventually accepted the candle which made you hug him alot..and oddly husk liked it. Now you gained a drunk uncle.

BIG HEADCANNON THAT VALENTINO WILL TRY TO ADOPT YOU, BUT ANGEL IS DEAD ASS SHAKING HIS HEAD NO AS THE OTHER CREW MEMBERS PROTECT YOU FROM THE GRASP OF THIS MOTH DEMON

As you kept getting adopted by random people, your ikemen was going around every season area asking other skykids have they seen you as he has a missing poster of you….poor Ikemen looks down seeing the flower bracelet you made him.

Back to you as you are making the whole crew paper bracelets thanks to Charlie’s trust exercises and activities.

I can see sir Pentious and you getting along to the point sir Pentious is like a caretaker when you don’t have anyone to be with. Even his egg boiz love to hang with you. Even if they don’t understand you.

You one time big honked and every light flickered since a ring of light was around you. So now the cast is little bit cautious at how “powerful” you are

Alastor would think you eat human/sinner meat as he would bring it to you, noting you don’t eat anything. 😭 DO YOU GUYS KNOW THAT GAGGING CAT?! THATS YOU WHEN YOU SMELT THE MEAT-

Alastor was so offended but he should’ve guessed that you weren’t a cannibal.

Niffty was teaching you how to clean and you accidentally drank bleach making niffty literally chase you around worried as you run.

You actually one time lost your light as you were crouched on the floor. Immediately Lucifer grabbed you up scared that you were dying as your body got out of the state and into your regular appearance.

Tbh Lucifer thought you was a scary demon crawling for your life, until you honked is when he realized it was his moth friend.

You fly around honking as you help razzle and dazzle with putting up banners. Razzle and dazzle pick you up if you don’t have enough energy to fly. You guys are flying buddies is what I headcannon.

I imagine husk is sleeping and you glide down from the stairs as you honk softly in his ear to wake him up. He grumbles at first so you decided to do a big honk. You inhaled as a ring of light surrounds the place as the honk rings out in the hotel.

“GAH!” Husk yells falling off the couch grabbing you as he thought you were trouble to only find out there wasn’t no problems. He grumbles angrily at you.

You once flew down like Batman and Angel recorded it founding it adorable.

Charlie had noticed you like to collect candles so she bought a stack of candles which made your eye light up and immediately run to your room with them.

Your mask definitely falls off your face, so imagine the whole hotel’s cast reaction to your face just being completely black with eyelashes (bruh skykid’s eyelashes are so damn pretty and long 😭)

When you went with Charlie to meet with the angels, Adam raised a brow at you because he never seen a “demon” like you. But he didn’t feel any angelic or demonic energy off you.

“What’s up lil dude…where’s your mama?” Adam says teasing you as he pats your head while Charlie watching nervously. You just honk at him and pull out a big white candle. Lute and Adam glanced at each other as Adam took it. The candle dissolved into a circle as Adam felt warm. You honk happily and hugged him.

“So can I keep this little shit?” Adam says to Charlie. “WHAT NO?!-”

I headcannon you once did the backflip emote and they all applaud you like “oh wow!”

Alastor and Lucifer are the smart ones to try to get you to call them dad…but you just honk and hug them like a little child happy to see them.

Of course Valentino is blowing Angel’s phone asking him if he seen a moth like demon….

Lucifer made you a duck cape. Like the cape was heaven sky blue with duck patterns in it. He found it so cuteee! 🦆💗

You honked madly at fat nuggets as the pig had eaten up your brown cape making angel dust make you a pink cape. It was bedazzled and it didn’t look like the sakura or valley cape you see other skykids wore once

[redroomreflections]

Guide Me

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Gentle Hands One Shot

Summary: Natasha is going away on a mission and she wants R to think of her while she's away.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI

note: I wrote this entirely for myself. There's fluff in here too.

w/c: 3.6k

Natasha sat quietly on the couch, her eyes drawn to the scene unfolding in front of her. You were kneeling in front of her, your arms stretched out, your eyes and face reflecting the huge smile you had as you encouraged Brynn to walk.

"Come on, Bubs, come to me," You said. "Come to Mommy."

Brynn was clinging tightly to Natasha's knees, her own tiny, chubby legs wobbling. She gave a little squeal of excitement, almost as if to say "I'm nervous", her determination both endearing and fierce.

"Go to your Mommy," Natasha coaxed, "you can do it, kotik."

Brynn seemed to be encouraged by Natasha's voice, patting her leg before reaching out a hand towards you. Your excitement was palpable, Natasha could feel it radiating off of you, and she was sure Brynn could sense it, too.

"Yeah, that's it, Brynnie," You continued. "I'm right here. I'll catch you."

And then Brynn took her first, tiny, tentative step, the biggest smile on her face.

"Nat," You whispered, looking up at her. "She's walking."

Natasha laughed, her heart filling with happiness, the moment seemingly frozen in time. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, as Brynn navigated the cool hardwood floors. You were only a few feet away from her.

And then Brynn wobbled and fell forward into your arms. There was a moment of quiet cheering as you hugged her to you.

"Good job, baby," You praised. "Kaia, guess what? Your sister just walked to me." You informed your almost three-year-old of her baby sister's milestone.

Kaia giggled, clapping her hands together in delight. "Yay, Brynnie."

Natasha chuckled. Kaia was so like you in many ways. Almost a mini clone. Even down to the dance you two performed in celebration of Brynn's first steps. The baby giggled loudly as you twirled her, blowing raspberries on whatever body part of hers you could reach, as you danced around the living room.

"My turn," Natasha said. "I want to dance with my baby." She stood, holding out her arms in anticipation.

You carefully passed Brynn over, who clung to Natasha.

"Mama," She said.

"Hi, my love." Natasha smiled widely. "I'm so proud of you."

Brynn grinned, reaching for Natasha's hair, and tugging on it gently.

"Ouch, kotik, " Natasha laughed. "That hurts."

Brynn looked concerned, pulling back to look at Natasha.

"No, no, it's okay, sweetheart." Natasha smiled softly, bouncing the baby on her hip. "Just a little tug. But never mind that, you walked." She leaned in, giving Brynn a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek.

Brynn giggled, squirming in Natasha's arms, before laying her head on her shoulder.

"I think she's tired," You said as you scooped Kaia into your arms to twirl her around. "It is almost bedtime." Natasha's heart warmed at the sight. She couldn't believe you were the woman she had once only wanted to protect—a woman who had been through so much, who had needed space to heal. Back then, Natasha hadn't imagined your friendship could turn into anything more. She hadn't let herself imagine it. Sure, she'd found you beautiful—who wouldn't? There had always been a quiet strength in the way you carried yourself, even on the days when your world felt like it was crumbling around you.

But this? A life with you, with Brynn and Kaia? That had seemed like a dream she didn’t know she was allowed to have. And now, Natasha had it. She had all of you.

"You should get them ready for bed, Nat," You said, as Kaia wrapped her arms around your neck, clinging like she always did when bedtime rolled around.

"But, Mama, I want to play with Brynn," Kaia whined, her voice laced with the beginnings of a pout.

"I'm sorry, Solnyshko, but you need to sleep. Come on, kiss Mama goodnight," Natasha said, and Kaia sighed but pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to your cheek. "We'll play tomorrow. You have school, remember?"

"I hate school," Kaia grumbled.

"No, you don't," Natasha chuckled.

"Do so."

"Kaia," You warned, and Kaia stuck out her bottom lip.

"Fine," she grumbled, though there was a softness in her voice now. "But you have to promise two songs before bed." Her eyes gleamed as she stared over at Natasha, knowing exactly how to tug at her heartstrings.

Natasha feigned reluctance, though the smile on her face betrayed her. She held out her pinkie finger to Kaia. "I promise," she said, locking their pinkies together with a gentle squeeze.

"And you have to sing them, not play the music."

"Kaia," You sighed.

"Okay, fine." Natasha laughed.

"You're the best, Mama," Kaia cheered, stretching in your arms to kiss Natasha's cheek and then leaning over to give Brynn one, too.

"How sweet," You murmured, watching them with a smile. Kaia’s pout disappeared instantly, replaced with a satisfied grin as she slipped out of your arms and shuffled toward the bedroom. "I'll catch up on dishes while you handle these two." You offered.

"You've done enough already," Natasha insisted. "I can wash the dishes."

"It's alright, I'll get them," You replied, brushing off her protest. "Besides, I want us to have tonight together before bed."

"I'll put Brynn to bed, and then I'll meet you in the bedroom," Natasha decided, and you nodded, making your way into the kitchen. Natasha watched you go, unable to help the smile that came to her lips. God, she loved you.

By the time Natasha stepped out of Brynn’s nursery, the house was quiet—save for the soft clinking of dishes being washed in the kitchen. She had promised herself she would come to bed after putting the kids down, but when she saw you moving around the house, still tidying up, she paused in the hallway. You had already done so much—cleaning up the toys in the living room, starting another load of laundry, and now finishing up the dishes that she had insisted on taking care of herself.

Natasha leaned against the doorframe, watching you for a moment. There was something peaceful about the way you moved, even in the mundane tasks. She loved how you always wanted to keep the home you had together running smoothly, even when you were tired. But it also made her heart ache a little. You did so much, often more than you needed to, always giving, always caring.

Quietly, Natasha made her way over to you, her footsteps soft on the kitchen floor. You didn’t hear her at first, too focused on rinsing the last of the plates, but the warmth of her presence behind you made you pause.

"You’ve done enough for tonight," Natasha murmured, slipping her arms around your waist from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. "I thought we agreed we'd have time together."

"I was just cleaning up." You shrugged, letting the water from the faucet run over your hands for a moment. "You were busy with the kids. It's fine."

"It's not fine," Natasha said gently. "You do so much, and I appreciate everything, but I want you to relax."

"I'm used to taking care of things, Nat."

"I know," Natasha replied. "And I love that you are."

"I don't mind," You said, turning off the water and leaning back against her.

"But I do," Natasha replied. "Let me take care of you for once."

"Natasha," You sighed, but Natasha was already tugging you away from the sink. You turned into her arms, closing your eyes in pure delight when she kissed your lips. Her kiss was soft and slow, making your heart race. When you pulled away, your smile was wide, your cheeks a bit flushed, and Natasha thought you looked absolutely beautiful.

"I love you," She whispered, pulling you closer and brushing her nose against yours. "You mean so much to me. I wish I could show you how much."

"You do, Nat. More than you know." You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her again, a little harder this time, your teeth grazing her bottom lip. "Though I do love how affectionate you're being, why do I get the sense you're about to tell me bad news?"

"I don't think it's bad, necessarily." Natasha shrugged even as her hands continued to roam your waist. Lovingly, of course, no ulterior motives there. "It's just, I got an assignment."

"Oh," You said, your expression falling.

"I leave in two days," She explained.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Three weeks."

"And you won't tell me where?" You guessed.

"I can't," Natasha said. "It's a matter of national security."

"I understand." You nodded.

"But," Natasha added, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. "When I get back, I'm not leaving the country for a long time."

"Is that a promise?" You teased, even though your chest was heavy with worry.

"That's a promise," Natasha replied, leaning in to kiss you again.

"How are you going to break it to the girls?" You asked. "You know Kaia has hard drop-offs at school whenever you leave."

"I have some ideas," Natasha said, "I'll have Wanda and Pepper take turns visiting. They can keep Kaia and Brynn distracted."

"Okay," You replied.

"Hey," Natasha whispered, her eyes searching yours with that intensity she always had when she needed you to feel her presence, her sincerity. Her thumb gently stroked your cheek as she leaned in closer. "I know it's hard. Believe me, I hate leaving you and the girls. But I'll come back. Always."

You swallowed, your heart feeling heavier despite her soft reassurances. It wasn’t just about her leaving for the mission—it was the way Kaia would cry at drop-offs, the way Brynn would ask for “Mama” with big, confused eyes, not understanding why Natasha wasn’t there. And as much as you tried to be strong for them, there was always a part of you that felt empty when she was gone.

"I know you will," you whispered, forcing a small smile. "It's just... three weeks is a long time."

Natasha pressed her forehead against yours, before her lips brush your temple. "I’ll make it up to you," she murmured, her voice low, comforting. "To all of you. When I get back, it’s just us. I’ll take a break—no missions, no assignments. We'll do whatever you want. I’ll even take Kaia to her soccer shots classes every week."

You laughed softly at the last part, shaking your head. "She loves those."

"I know," Natasha smirked. "But she's getting a little better at kicking the ball, and I'd like to see it."

You could hear the truth in her voice, feel it in the way she held you like she never wanted to let go. But the reality of her job was always there, lurking in the background, pulling her away when you needed her most. Still, you nodded, trying to push the worry aside, even if only for tonight.

"Okay," you said softly, resting your head against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. "But you’re the one telling Kaia in the morning. I’m not dealing with that meltdown alone."

Natasha chuckled, holding you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Deal."

You held her tightly, breathing her in, committing this moment to memory, knowing that no matter how much she assured you that she'd be back, there would always be a part of you that was worried she wouldn't.

"I'm going to miss you," Natasha began, her voice soft and laced with sincerity. She kissed your lips again. An apology.

"I'm going to miss you too," you replied, your heart aching at the thought of her being away. "More than you know."

"I'll call every day," she promised, her hands tracking your back under your shirt. "Or as much as I can."

"I'd like that," you replied, kissing her once more.

"It'll go by fast," Natasha said. "Before you know it, I'll be back home with you, and we'll finally have a few weeks to ourselves."

"It's hard for me when you leave," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Your side of the bed gets cold. I don't have anyone there to hold me. To kiss me." You're laying it on thick. "It's hard not having someone there to—"

"Stop it," Natasha said, and you smirked, pulling back slightly to look at her.

"Stop what?" You asked, playing innocent.

"You're not being very subtle. If you're trying to make me change my mind about leaving, it won't work. But the other part..." Natasha grinned. "You have ways to care for yourself while I'm gone."

"I know," you said, your tone softening, a smile creeping onto your lips. "but..."

"But what?" Natasha inquired. "Hmm?"

"I've never actually done that,"

"Wait. Really? You've never touched yourself before?"

You shook your head. "Never needed to."

"So you're telling me you're a virgin in that department." Natasha smiled. "This is news to me."

"Nat, don't tease." You pushed her away gently.

"Come here." Natasha pulled you back in. "I'll show you what to do," She promised. "I'll make sure you feel good. Better than good. Amazing. The best orgasm of your life."

"You make big promises," You raised a brow.

"You've had better?" She scoffed.

"No," You shook your head. "I've just never felt the need or the desire to do it."

"So you have no idea what to do?" Natasha questioned, and you nodded, a little shyly. "What is it, baby?" She asked, tipping your chin up gently, so you were looking into her eyes. "Don't be shy."

"I just—I've always been a little repressed with sex," You explained, avoiding her gaze. "I mean we've talked about it before. I'm a woman with two kids. I'm no virgin Mary. There's still so much I haven't explored and I can't help but think how inexperienced I am."

"Hey, look at me," Natasha said softly, cupping your cheek. "There's no rush to explore everything at once, but I'll be more than happy to guide you. In fact, I'm honored."

"You're sweet," You whispered, and Natasha smiled.

"Come on," She said, pulling you towards the bedroom. She closed the door behind th both of you and got to work setting up pillows and a small area in front of the six-foot mirror you'd insisted on having in here.

"Now, I'm not saying it's going to happen right away," Natasha began, pulling you into her arms and peppering kisses on your neck. "But if you'd like me to teach you the ropes, I'd be more than happy to."

"I'd say yes to anything you offer," You whispered to her as you sat in front of her. She instructed you to take your pants off while she did the busy work of unbuttoning your blouse.

"Are you comfortable?" She asked and you nodded, pulling her closer, craving her body heat and the comfort her touch offered.

"Tell me if you want to stop," Natasha began. She gently coaxed your legs open, admiring the wet spot already forming, as she leaned her head against yours. "You don't know how sexy you are like this."

"In a nursing bra and Wednesday panties even though it's Friday?" You joked.

"Especially in that," Natasha murmured. "You always look so good to me, baby." Natasha kissed your neck.

"Touch me," You whispered.

"We're getting there, beautiful," She promised, her hand sliding up and down your thigh. You sighed, closing your eyes. You knew Natasha would make you feel good, and would make this experience pleasurable and enjoyable. "But tonight you're doing all the work. Just follow my voice." She instructed as she trailed her hands along your body.

"Take off your panties," Natasha whispered, and you obeyed. Your hand hovered over the waistband of your panties, hesitating. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," You admitted, taking a deep breath.

"You're gorgeous, Y/n."

"You make me feel that way."

"Good. Because it's true." She replied, pulling her hands away. "Take your time."

You slowly slid the underwear down your legs, biting your lip nervously.

"I'll start, and then you can take over," Natasha said.

"What are you going to do?" You asked.

"You'll see." She replied. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," You said, nodding, feeling a rush of anticipation run through your body.

She began by stroking your belly, moving to cup your breasts and toy with your nipples.

"Do you like that?"

"Yeah," You nodded.

"How about this?" She murmured, her hands running over your hips. You moaned, arching into her touch.

"Mhmm," You cursed, feeling yourself get wetter.

"What else would you like me to do?"

"Just talk to me, please."

"Talk to you about what, baby?" She whispered, her voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"Anything. I just want to hear your voice," You whimpered.

"I can do that."

Natasha's hands trailed along your inner thighs, her fingertips teasing your folds."I want you to use your fingers, just one," She began. "Feel around for that spot that feels good."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling shy.

"It's okay," Natasha whispered. "I'm right here. Do whatever feels good, baby."

You slid your fingers down between your legs, tentatively over your slit, before you pressed it between your lips. You were familiar with your own anatomy enough to find your clit. Your eyes widened slightly at the pleasure, the intensity, as you rubbed it gently.

You bit your lip, closing your eyes at the immediate pleasure, as you leaned your head back against her shoulder. Having her there as a source of support felt even better.

"Open your eyes, baby," Natasha instructed. "Look in the mirror."

You obeyed, your eyes meeting her's in the reflection.

"That's it, Y/n," Natasha murmured. "See how beautiful you look like this? With your legs spread open for me, your pussy soaking wet and waiting for me. You're perfect, Y/n."

"I want to go inside," You whispered. "Can I?"

"Of course," Natasha whispered. "Put one finger in."

You slowly eased a finger into yourself, whimpering at the sensation.

"How does it feel?"

"Good," You gasped. "But I don't know if it's enough."

"Try adding another," She instructed, and you obliged.

"Ah, fuck," You moaned, arching up into your hand.

"That's it, baby. Feel yourself, feel what you do to yourself," She whispered, her hands still stroking your inner thighs.

"Feels so good," You panted. Natasha used her hand to slow you down.

"Not yet," She kissed the side of your head. "I want you to enjoy this. I want you to think about me. How good I make you feel. Imagine your fingers are mine. Fucking you."

You groaned, the pleasure overwhelming, as you moved slower, taking your fingers in and out.

"Natasha," You whispered.

"Shh," She kissed the side of your head.

"I'm close," You whined.

"I know," She smiled. "But you have to wait."

"But why," You whimpered.

"Because it's better when I say so," She explained. She raised her hand, gently rubbing your breasts, careful not to be too rough. Though you do think about how much you would like it. "You're such a good girl for me."

"Nat," You whined, thrusting faster, as she held you closer.

"You're close, baby," She whispered, her fingers finding your nipples, gently tugging them.

"Please, Natasha, I'm so close."

"Tell me what you want," She demanded.

"Bite me," You tilted your neck for easier access. "Mark me. Please."

Natasha growled as she sunk her teeth into your neck, the pain and pleasure mingling together and making you moan. She sucked on the mark she had made, her hands roaming your body. You could feel your pussy clench around your fingertips.

"Fuck," You cried, your back arching.

"Cum, baby. Come for me," She commanded, and you obeyed, moaning loudly, as your orgasm crashed through your body, your muscles contracting.

"That's it," She soothed, holding you tightly, her hands caressing your sides. "Such a good girl for me."

You collapsed back into her embrace, breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat covering your skin.

"I don't know how you do that to me." You panted, your voice low and sated.

"Because I love you." She replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I love you too," You sighed, leaning back into her arms, as she stroked your hair. "Thank you."

"Of course, baby," She whispered, smiling at the sleepy expression on your face. "I want you to feel good when I'm not home. I want you to make yourself feel good."

"Thank you," You mumbled.

"You haven't taken your fingers out," Natasha pointed out.

"I haven't," You nodded.

"Is it good?"

"Yes."

"Are you ready to go again?"

"Not right now," You shook your head, closing your eyes. "I like being filled."

"Alright," Natasha chuckled.

"Can we just cuddle?"

"We can do whatever you want," Natasha replied. "Though we need to talk about the comment you just made."

"About being filled?" You questioned.

"Yeah," Natasha replied.

"Well, I like the feeling. And I'd like to feel more."

"Oh really," Natasha smirked. "How much more?"

"However much more you're willing to give." You kissed the part of her chin you could reach. "I do not doubt that if possible, I'd be pregnant by now."

"I'd love that," Natasha murmured. "Filling you with my cum and watching it leak out of you. Stretching you."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" You smiled.

"Very much so," Natasha kissed the top of your head.

"Would you want to be on top or should I?" You asked, opening your eyes.

"You can." Natasha offered.

"But I don't know what I'm doing," You protested.

"Trust me. I'll walk you through it."

"You always do," You sighed. "I'm so glad I met you. The way you love me."

"Me too, baby," Natasha said. "You make me so happy."

"And you make me happy."