#repost because tagging didn't work with the last one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelyhan · 1 year

Text

— down bad (so so bad) ⟢

it’s not like you’re curious about how the word would taste in your mouth whenever seungcheol calls himself daddy while talking to kkuma. nope. definitely not.

★ FEATURING; seungcheol x pet-sitter!reader (ft. exo's sehun just 'cause LOL)

★ WORD COUNT; 5.7k words

★ TAGS; friends to lovers, lots of denial, a twinge of fluff, smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; if u see me reposting this for the third time, no you didn't!!!!! JDKFGDJFKGGH i'm so sorry i should be working on one last enemies 2 lovers request, but the influx of kkuma content in seventeen street got the better of me,,

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; getting caught, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, dom!seungcheol, praise kink, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, pretty thing, princess), reader is touch-starved AF

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi - @asjkdk - @stariightjoyy - @jiniesclub

★ SEUNGCHEOL TAGLIST; @changk6un - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx - @noveniadelia

You spend a lot of time convincing yourself it’s not a big deal.

Because it most definitely isn’t. You live in a part of the city where there just happens to be a lot of idol and celebrity residences nearby, and ever since you’ve established yourself as a pretty decent pet-sitter, they’ve been enlisting your services much more than you initially expected.

But for some reason, every time the leader of that boy group whose dorm is right across the street comes to you with the most spoiled baby princess in his arms, it suddenly becomes a big deal. A huge, ginormous, larger-than-life—

“Hey.” Seungcheol grins, already dressed for today’s schedule from the looks of it. “I heard Sehun-hyung dropped off his dog yesterday, but we kinda have to squeeze in a last-minute shoot this afternoon, so…”

As if privy to the mention of his name, Sehun’s dog—a Bichon named Vivi—barks from your living room. He takes a peek behind the entryway to curiously peer at who’s at the door, but doesn’t make any moves to come out altogether. His presence makes Seungcheol’s dog, Kkuma shrink into her owner’s arms, almost whining.

“Aww, baby, don’t be like that. You’ve played with Vivi before, right?” Seungcheol coos and you have to stifle a laugh at how he adjusts the pretty bow on her head before turning back to you. “So, uh, is it alright to double book you? I’ll be back for her tonight. Promise.”

Normally, you would’ve refused. Though you work from home, you don't want your attention spread too thin when you’re looking after a client’s pet. This is one of the main reasons why you mostly just pet-sit one at a time, but it’s as if the universe is intent on using your silly attraction to Choi Seungcheol against you—your usual terms and conditions be damned.

“Yeah, I think Sehun’s picking up Vivi later this afternoon, so it’s no big deal,” you reassure him before petting Kkuma affectionately. “You wanna go on a walk with Vivi later, Kkuma?”

Seungcheol told you once that his precious daughter is extremely picky about who gets to pet her and who should maintain a one-meter distance at all times. So when Kkuma has obviously taken a liking to you right off the bat, he knew she was in safe hands. Not to mention the assortment of positive reviews he’s heard about you from other idol friends in passing—he’d be an idiot not to ask for your help when you literally live right across the street.

Lucky him that you’ll do anything for him if it meant you could have the pleasure of seeing Seungcheol right at your doorstep—flashing you that adorable, dimpled smile before he drops off or picks up his only child from your care.

Not like he has to know any of that, of course.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Seungcheol groans with relief, shifting Kkuma into your arms before patting her head reassuringly. “My dad was supposed to pick her up from the dorms today, but something came up at home and he couldn’t make the trip. I owe you big time.”

You chuckle at his gratefulness all while your heart swells as Kkuma nuzzles your chest. What an adorable little thing. “You know my bank account, Seungcheol-ssi.”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “I know you’re just messing around but really, you can call me Cheol. I think I’ve called in enough favors from you to be familiar at least.”

“Those aren’t favors, Cheol. You literally pay me three times more than you have to whenever Kkuma comes over,” you half-jest, startling a little when you notice Vivi circling your legs as he tries to sniff at the dog in your arms. “Anyway, shoo! Won’t you be late for your schedule? I’m sure a playdate with Vivi is just what Kkuma needs to kill the time.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he sighs before leaning forward to take Kkuma’s face in both of his large hands—pressing a loving kiss on top of her head. “You better be good, okay? Oh, I’m gonna miss you so much, baby.”

Kkuma’s tail wags at her father’s blatant affection and you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face. No matter how many times Seungcheol baby talks to his kid before taking his leave, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing such a side of him up close.

“Daddy’s gonna be back for you tonight. Promise. Oh, by the way, her vet put her on a sodium-free diet for a while, so don’t give her any treats. And…”

As Seungcheol fusses about Kkuma’s newly imposed feeding schedules and hands you a backpack full of pet care necessities, you find yourself zoning out—your head ringing with that one word that’s always made you a little flustered every time you heard it from Seungcheol’s mouth.

“You get any of that?”

You blink, acutely aware of how Vivi has stood up on his hind legs, pawing at your thigh as he attempts to lick Kkuma’s face. When you realize that you’re just standing there like an idiot as Seungcheol waits for a response, you let out a dry laugh before setting Kkuma down on the floor.

“Yep, I only have to feed her once. Strictly two scoops. Not that I see you sticking to the feeding regimen though,” you tease while receiving the backpack from him.

“You got me,” Seungcheol chuckles again. “Can’t ever say no to my princess when she gives me the puppy eyes and asks for another scoop. Luckily, you’re the one looking after her today, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

Once Seungcheol finally takes his leave, you let out a long-winded sigh—pressing your back against your front door as Kkuma looks up at you with those big, dark eyes. Vivi seems to have made his way back to the living room after the initial curiosity and you’re glad that you don’t have to round up two energetic pups when your heart is still pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, Kkuma walks up to you, nuzzling your leg with a whine.

Laughing, you sink to your knees to give her a few scratches underneath her ears. Dogs can be so attuned to a human’s emotional distress, it’s a little amazing.

“What does it feel like to be able to call him daddy?” you joke as she lays on her back for some belly rubs that you have no problem giving.

The moment the question slips from your lips, you find yourself groaning again as you recall the tight fit of the black turtleneck Seungcheol was wearing today. How it accentuated all the features the fabric was meant to emphasize. You can only imagine how it would feel like to be caged in those big, beefy arms—

Kkuma jolts from her comfortable position on the floor when you suddenly shoot back to your feet, but you only feel half as bad for startling her.

You’re down bad. So ridiculously bad.

Sehun comes over to pick up Vivi about an hour after you got home from their walk.

Like most of your clients, he usually shoots a text before dropping by, but he must’ve forgotten the usual protocol. So when you hear your doorbell go off while you’re in the middle of watching idol fancams on your TV, the internal panic is very much warranted.

Vivi bounds straight into his owner’s arms the moment Sehun comes through the door and starts licking his face. You smile to yourself despite clearly looking disheveled from how comfortably you’ve been lounging in the living room, but you’re sure Sehun doesn’t mind.

“Oh? He’s got a little playmate?” He raises an eyebrow when Kkuma waddles over to help herself to some of his attention too. Despite how he looks, Sehun gives Kkuma a few pats. “Hmm… Isn’t this Seungcheol’s kid? Or is it Seungkwan’s? Mingyu’s? Their dogs look all the same to me sometimes.”

You snort before handing him Vivi’s bag of necessities that every doting pet owner has up their arsenal. “You were right the first time. I’ve never pet sat for Mingyu before and I’m sure Seungkwan’s dog is in Jeju with his family.”

He nods in understanding before locking Vivi’s leash in place. “I see. Wouldn’t be surprised if they started to have you look after their pets too, though.”

When Sehun’s all set, you both discuss payments and he gives you his word that he’ll have the money wired into your account when he gets back to his place. But just when you’re about to send him and Vivi off, he pauses—glancing at something behind your shoulder.

Curious, you whip around to see what caught his attention and—

“Uh, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” you stammer before throwing your arms out as if that’ll obstruct the view this six-foot idol has of your television screen. “I left YouTube on autoplay and I guess it paused when you arrived, and…”

Lies. You were in the middle of watching every single one of Seungcheol’s fancams before Sehun arrived and paused whatever was playing on screen. It just so happens that it slipped your mind that the screen froze at a very tantalizing part of his HOT fancam.

You’re not sure how you’re going to explain to Sehun that you don’t usually watch your clients' fancams like some closeted fan, but thankfully, he’s always been discreet about a lot of things.

“Right,” he says, obviously unconvinced but seems that he won’t press further. “Well, we’re gonna head out now. Jongin-hyung might give you a call in the next few days, by the way. He’ll be busy promoting his solo debut for a while and Kyungsoo-hyung’s growing tired of all the fur in his apartment.”

You nod swiftly, glad to have another business prospect right after this one just concluded. “Gotcha. See you again, Sehun.”

Once you’re all alone, you carry Kkuma to the living room—laying her down on the plush cushions of your couch before plopping helplessly right next to her. Thank god it’s Sehun who unknowingly bore witness to something so embarrassing. If it was Jongin, he never would’ve let you live it down.

But instead of wallowing in your shame, you unpause the video on screen—watching Seungcheol’s fancam in front of his daughter without another thought.

Kkuma doesn’t seem all too interested, immediately curling herself into a ball right next to you before promptly dozing off. You don’t get to see it though, since your eyes are glued to the screen.

Surely the jury won’t condemn you too badly for biting the inside of your cheek whenever Seungcheol sticks his tongue out with a smirk, right? This is an idol who’s spent nearly a decade in the industry—if not more. Of course he’s got the art of fanservice ingrained into his bones.

But just when you told yourself that this is the last one you’re going to watch before hopping in the shower, you end up viewing a couple more of his fancams first until you make do on that self-imposed promise.

This one’s a clip from their most recent fan meeting, you think. A DON QUIXOTE performance that’s been circulating around social media for the better part of the month. While you’re not that well-versed in their group’s discography, you happen to like this song a lot specifically because of how raspy Seungcheol’s voice is whenever he raps his parts.

When he decides to unclasp a piece of fabric that’s been getting in the way of choreography, you have to bite back a groan when he practically throws it on the stage with that domineering air he never fails to showcase during their performances.

You press your thighs together, hyper aware of the heat that’s sizzling in between before casting Kkuma a guilty stare. Though she’s just a dog, you still feel a little bad about lusting after her dad while she’s sleeping right next to you.

You’re not even sure what’s got you so worked up today. This isn’t the first time Seungcheol dropped her off in person so you’re not sure why you’re feeling this horny from a few fancams alone. Shark week must be drawing near.

Either way, you end up quietly easing yourself off the couch so as to not wake the sleeping princess on your sofa—turning the TV off altogether before making a beeline for your bedroom to grab your towel and a change of clothes.

If there’s a more opportune time to take a shower and wash away the impurities infesting your body, it’s now.

But just as you’re about to head to the bathroom, your phone goes off on the coffee table. You pout a little when Kkuma stirs from the sound of your ringtone—looking around sleepily for the source of the noise.

“Sorry about that,” you coo before settling back beside her, running a hand across her smooth fur.

When you glance at the caller ID, your heart nearly plummets to your stomach.

“Hey,” Seungcheol’s deep voice flits into your ears when you take the call, sounding all sorts of tired. “We’re just wrapping up our shoot. I should be there in an hour or-so. How’s Kkuma?”

“She was fast asleep before my ringtone woke her up,” you chuckle.

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, baby.”

You tense up at the term of endearment despite being fully aware that it’s not meant for you in particular. That reminds you to put your phone on loudspeaker so that the intended recipient could hear Seungcheol’s apologetic voice.

“I think Vivi tired her out when we went to the park today,” you tell him fondly.

“Sounds like she finally met her match,” Seungcheol laughs on the other end and Kkuma perks up at the sound of her owner’s voice. “Can you hear me, princess? I’m coming to get you in a while. Keep being daddy’s good girl for me, yeah? I won’t be too long.”

Fuck.

When Seungcheol says your name and thanks you in that same, tired yet raspy voice, you have to keep yourself from melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Hope the double booking wasn’t too much of a bother,” he murmurs and—god. You get that he probably doesn’t have a lot of energy to spare, but does he have any idea what his voice is doing to your underwear?!

“Not at all,” you manage to say without your voice cracking. “I told you Sehun picked up Vivi early today. It’s just me and this spoiled princess right now.”

“Spoiled, huh? I guess that’s one way of putting it.” Seungcheol breathes out a laugh. “Anyway, we’re getting settled in the shuttle right now. I’ll text you when I’m at the door.”

“Gotcha. Come on, Kkuma. Say goodbye to daddy.”

You don’t know why that cursed word slipped out of you so naturally, but Kkuma seems to respond to it in kind—her tail swishing with contained excitement before letting out a soft bark for Seungcheol to hear. Your client (that’s right he’s your client, you stupid, horny—) coos at the other end of the call.

You honestly can’t wait until he arrives to get her so you can have some real, much needed alone time.

To your credit, the shower kind of helped.

Though you just took one of the coldest baths in your life, it managed to alleviate the heat that lingered on your skin once Seungcheol ended the phone call. That’s considered a win in your book.

As you towel your damp hair, you take a peek at Kkuma who’s returned to her little nap on your couch. The sight makes your heart flutter and you would’ve snapped a photo if that doesn’t go against the rules you’ve set for yourself and your humble business.

Then again, fantasizing about one of your clients definitely goes against whatever principles you’ve been practicing all your life but that’s not the issue here.

Not wanting to wake her until Seungcheol arrives, you silently pad off to your bedroom, intent on getting some work done before planning what you’ll have for dinner. However, the moment you hang your towel to dry, you end up lying in bed instead of hunching in front of your desk with a laptop full of backlogs waiting for you.

You don’t even think twice when your hand inches past the garter of your thin sleep shorts.

Typically, you’d use one of your trusty vibrators to get off when you direly needed the release. It made things quick and simple. Plus, you don’t have to suffer through the ordeal of having your fingers pruning up.

But your brain thought it would be extremely funny if you touched yourself to the thought of your fingers being Seungcheol’s instead of yours—gathering the slick from your aching pussy as he lathers your wetness across your slit.

While you’re…preoccupied in your bedroom, you don’t hear your phone buzzing on the coffee table outside. You’ve deigned to put it on silent mode so Kkuma won’t be rudely awakened by any unexpected ringtones again, but the decision is a bit short-sighted since Seungcheol did tell you he’d text you once he arrives at your door.

Said idol is standing in front of your apartment with a worried look on his face. He texted you about ten minutes ago but received no response, which is a little strange since you almost always reply to his messages right away.

When you don’t pick up his third call, he starts to pace around nervously. Did you go outside? Were you busy? He’s normally a patient person, but when it comes to Kkuma, he gets jittery within seconds if there really is something to worry about.

Seungcheol tests the knob to your door but when he finds it unlocked, he’s further thrown into a haze of concern. Shit. Were you robbed? Where is Kkuma?

Where are you?

He kicks off his shoes haphazardly in the entrance, closing the door behind him before twisting the lock as he looks around cautiously. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of place inside your house. The furniture is just as he remembered—not that he spends a lot of his time studying your interior—and finds no signs of ransacking.

Relief practically crashes over him in waves when Kkuma’s head pops up from behind the couch. She hops to the floor and zips straight into his arms, pawing and licking with all the affection she can offer. Seungcheol laughs, petting her to calm down before giving your living room another once-over.

You’re nowhere to be found.

Even if Seungcheol can just grab Kkuma and make his leave, he knows he’ll feel bad if he ditches you without a word like that. So after telling his only child to stay put at the doorway, he carefully treads around your apartment and makes his way to (what he assumes is) your room.

The door is slightly ajar and he could make out the figure of someone lying on the bed inside. With the knowledge that you’re safe and sound, Seungcheol’s shoulders relax.

But just when he’s about to raise a fist to knock—

“Oh, daddy, please—”

Seungcheol freezes on the spot.

He likes to think he’s a pretty decent person. Never one to think about or blurt anything remotely sexual especially if the situation doesn’t call for it. He also likes to think he has a pretty decent amount of self-control.

But for some reason, when he sees you with one hand buried between your supple thighs as the other paws at your breast through a flimsy night shirt, he can feel himself rapidly crossing that line he’s been so careful to maintain with you all this time.

Seungcheol should leave. While he doesn’t know the specifics of your love life—given that the nature of your friendship is mostly transactional—you probably have at least one person you’re involved enough with to call daddy while you get yourself off. He’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have and he still has time to recollect his thoughts somewhere else while dealing with the steadily growing hardness in his jeans.

But then, he hears you sigh:

“Cheol… Fuck!”

You’re on the very brink of the orgasm you’ve been craving since this morning when your hand is rudely yanked from between your legs. You jolt at the intrusion—fear shooting through your system at the thought of some psycho breaking into your house while you’re so vulnerable. But when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s hard gaze, you’re convinced that you’re dreaming.

“S-Seungcheol?”

To your horror (more like delight) he takes the hand that you’ve just been using to finger yourself to the thought of him—taking your slick digits into his mouth with a pained groan. The sight instantly makes your pussy quiver with need but before that…

“What are you doing here?” you ask weakly, not having the heart to pull your arm away when he looks so fucking hot licking the juices off your fingers.

When his lips disconnect from your skin with a lascivious pop, he plants a kiss across your knuckles, smirking. “Those are such pretty sounds you’re making. Are they all for me?”

This is not happening. You probably slipped in the shower and hit your head or something. Because Choi Seungcheol—the client you’ve been having inappropriate thoughts about for the entire day—can’t be crouching in front of you right now, giving you the sexiest bedroom eyes you’ve ever seen.

You swallow thickly, trying to salvage what’s left of your pride. “Cheol, I’m sorry, I—”

He shushes you by placing a finger to your lips, the grip he has on your arm tightening with each passing second. You nearly moan when he presses his forehead against yours.

“Daddy, huh?” he asks, completely ignoring your attempt at clearing the air. “You want to call me daddy that bad, baby? So much that you have to get yourself off with Kkuma lying outside?”

Shit. That’s right. Kkuma.

However, in the midst of the moral dilemma that came with wanting Seungcheol to fuck you into the mattress while his adorable daughter was waiting outside your bedroom, you recognize that this is definitely a once in a lifetime chance.

You’re not about to let it go to waste.

You aren’t certain who it is that lunged in for the kiss. All you know is that Seungcheol has you pinned beneath his firm body as he licks into your mouth—larged, calloused fingers gripping onto your hips possessively as you moan his name against his lips.

Your sleep shorts come off in no time. So does your shirt. It only occurs to you’ve been grinding down on the denim of his jeans with nothing but soaked panties on when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth—coaxing out a sound so heavenly, it shoots straight through his cock.

“You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he sighs hoarsely, rolling his hips against your core so that you can feel how hard he is through his pants. “So fucking needy. When you get yourself off, am I the one you always think about?”

You want to say yes but Seungcheol captures your lips into another bruising kiss before you can utter a sound.

He nudges your thighs apart with his knees, one hand reaching between your legs so he can inspect the mess he’s unknowingly made of your cunt. When he finds you wet and wanting, you feel a growl reverberate deep in his chest.

“Now this won’t do,” he tuts before sliding himself between your thighs, easing himself lower on the mattress so he can hook them across his shoulders. You mewl in anticipation and Seungcheol meets your gaze with a challenging smirk. “Is there something you want?”

“C-Cheol—”

“That’s not my name right now, baby. I thought you knew that.”

How the fuck does this man just slip so naturally into the subspace without making things weird or uncomfortable? If anything, the authority in his voice makes another bout of slick gush outside your entrance—making you pray to every single god out there for Seungcheol not to notice.

“Daddy,” you whine and the title sounds delicious in his ears. “I want you. Wanted you for so long.”

You want to curl in on yourself when you feel Seungcheol’s teeth trailing love bites along your inner thighs. The grip he has on them is weighted with nothing but gentleness but the contrast it has with his rough kisses is making your mind stutter with pleasure.

“What’d you think about, hm?” he whispers. “Tell me all the filthy things you’ve wanted to do with Daddy.”

You nearly gasp when he flattens his tongue across your clothed core, breathing in the musky scent of your arousal. The overload in his senses makes him want to snap and have his way with you, but Seungcheol tells himself to take it easy.

He has all the time in the world to make you feel good.

“B-But that’s embarrassing,” you whine, struggling to free yourself from his grip but Seungcheol tears your defenses asunder when he moves your panties to the side and licks a long, languid stripe along your glistening slit.

The effect it has on you is immediate—you’re writhing against his touch, fingers automatically tangling themselves in his hair as Seungcheol helps himself to your cunt like it’s his first meal of the day. It doesn’t help that he’s so enthusiastic about eating you out. Almost like he’s thought about doing it at least once in his life.

“Daddy, please—” you whimper. “Need you…inside.”

“Not until you spill the dirty details, princess,” he chuckles before letting your panties snap back against your poor, sensitive cunt. You jolt at the contact, tears lining your lashes because of how desperate you are to get filled with something. Anything.

“I-I thought about you fucking me raw,” you start shakily, toes curling every time his nose grazes your clothed pussy. “Calling me pretty names and leaving your marks on my body. T-Then when I’m about to c-come, you tell me to hold it in ‘cause you want to come together. You’d also tell me how much of a good girl I am…”

Hm. An obvious pillow princess that likes being praised. While Seungcheol has a preference for calling his partners dubious names in the bedroom, he can make a few exceptions.

Especially when you look so fucking wrecked for him when he’s barely touched you.

“I see. What else is cooking in that pretty mind of yours, baby? Daddy wants to know.”

You visibly preen at his words, further confirming his suspicions. Seungcheol has to bite back a groan at the sinister feeling that fills his chest at the knowledge.

He’s going to have so much fun with you.

“You’d— You’d use my pussy to dump your load inside me… Then you’ll just k-keep going even if I’m twitching and sensitive all over, fucking your cum deeper ‘cause you want me to keep it all in for days.”

The mental image you’re painting inside his head is not doing his sense of control any favors, but Seungcheol remains steadfast. He won’t fuck you stupid when he hasn’t even asked you out on a date yet. He has more tact than that.

“That’s what I like to hear, pretty thing,” he chuckles before moving his head a little so he can remove your ruined underwear. He typically would’ve just torn the fabric in two, but he doesn’t want to scare you off just yet. “Such a good girl for Daddy. And you know what good girls deserve?”

The innocent look on your face nearly makes him cream himself right then and there. “W-What?”

With a no-good smile, he says:

“To come until you’re crying.”

Seungcheol easily slips in two thick fingers into your sopping heat, making you cry out in a way that’ll definitely pique Kkuma’s curiosity. He just hopes his baby won’t come nosing in where she isn’t supposed to while he takes care of his other baby the way she deserves.

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he sighs—loving how your gummy walls practically cling to his fingers with each shallow thrust. “Can you even take more than this? I don’t want to break you when you’re being so good for me.”

You voice out your protest against his words with a pathetic mewl, bucking your hips against his fingers with erratic vigor. “N-No… I can take more, Daddy, please please. Want you to fuck me full. I’ll be good, I promise!”

Seungcheol has been producing his own tracks for years, but the sound of you babbling incoherently is music to his ears. As he continues pumping his digits in and out of your needy hole, he puts himself back to work—tongue tracing tight circles around your puffy clit as he forces your thighs apart.

Your back arches off the bed at the sensation as your fingers desperately claw against the sheets. It’s so unfair how delirious he’s made you when he still has all of his clothes on, but you’re nothing if not his good little girl when you don’t even comment on it—focused entirely on the mounting pleasure he’s freely giving you.

When the pads of his fingers manage to graze that patch of spongy flesh deep inside you, your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull. Seungcheol is all too privy to your reaction and you feel him smirk into your cunt as he curls his fingers to find that spot again—attaching his lips around your sensitive nub as he overwhelms you with stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, hands finding their way back to his hair as you desperately tug him closer. “Daddy, f-feels so good! I’m gonna—”

“I never gave you permission, baby,” he growls and you quickly whine when he detaches himself from your pussy. “If you want to come you have to ask Daddy nicely. Unless you feel like being a bad girl all of a sudden?”

You shake your head, hips grinding against the air in a desperate attempt to get his mouth on you again. “N-No, Daddy. I want to be good. Can I please come? Please? Need it, need you.”

His chest tightens at the desperate plea in your voice and for a moment, Seungcheol is honestly kind of scared of getting too used to your desperate whines. Your needy whimpers.

How on earth is he going to go back to being friends after all this is over?

“Alright, since my princess said she’ll be good for me,” he laughs as your walls clench around his fingers. “You can come when you feel like it, baby. Come all over Daddy’s face.”

You don’t completely expect it when Seungcheol dives back into you, smothering his face in your pussy so greedily that you feel his nose bumping against your clit. He laps at your soaked folds like your arousal is the best thing he’s ever tasted—easing a third finger inside you as you muffle a scream.

“Yes, yes! Right there, Daddy!” you moan, tugging on his hair even harder as you grind your cunt against his face. “So close, so close—fuck!”

When you fall over the edge, Seungcheol doesn’t stop his relentless onslaught on your twitching pussy. Your walls clamp down around his fingers so tightly, he can only imagine how good it would feel to fuck you on his cock while you ride out your orgasm.

The syllables of his name are all but broken when you frame them around a high-pitched keen. Seungcheol slurps up every drop that trickles onto his face and he only peels himself away from you once you’ve stopped thrashing against his grip.

In the aftermath, the two of you bathe in silence—nothing but your mutual pants filling the room. You’re looking at Seungcheol with stars in your eyes despite what he just put you through and the sight alone makes him more aware of the problem in his pants.

“Daddy, do you want—”

“No,” he says immediately and he feels bad just as fast because of the disappointment that crosses your face. “I mean—fuck. I want to fuck you dumb, princess. I really do. But I also really like you and it’ll be a chip on my conscience forever if I do that without taking you out on a proper date first.”

It takes a moment for his confession to completely occur to you and when it does, the dazed look in your eyes makes way for utter shock. Seungcheol wonders if he should be offended.

“You…like me?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pretty busy guy. I don’t just let anyone come on my face.”

You gulp. “For how long?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “A while. Now are you going to let me take you out on that date one of these days or are we going to have to pretend this never happened?”

You scowl at him. It doesn’t help that he still has that tightly fitted turtleneck on—distracting you from the topic at hand for a moment before you clear your throat and give him an answer.

“H-How about we go on that date now?” you suggest somewhat anxiously. “I mean, I was already thinking about where to get dinner after this, and…”

Taking him by surprise, you lean forward to cup your hands over his ear—a devious smirk curling on your lips.

“Maybe you can fuck me dumb right after.”

Long story short, your first date with the idol you’ve been crushing on is a big hit. Right after getting himself to calm down (A.K.A., taking care of his hard on in the privacy of your bathroom), Seungcheol took you and Kkuma to a food park that’s open until midnight.

It’s over dinner that you fess up and tell him the origin of your newfound daddy kink. Seungcheol has the gall to laugh in your face at your admission and you swear you’ll never pet sit Kkuma ever again if he keeps teasing you like that.

“Aww, baby,” he coos, pinching your cheek for added effect. “You don’t have to call it pet-sitting anymore. Now that we’ve established how much we actually like each other, don’t you think it’s more fitting to call it…co-parenting?”

Unwittingly, you receive his words with a scowl.

You want to smack him upside the head. Just because he’s a confident little thing on stage doesn’t mean he can just bring that side of him in a real life conversation. But for all your adamant bravado of insisting he’s being full of himself…

You honestly don’t mind.

⟢ end notes: yay! you got to the end of my delusions!!! that said, thank you to nova @duhnova and indi @playmetheclassics for title help and going through this spur-of-the-moment filth for me!! rip to the original genius title, daddy's good girl(s) bc tumblr wants to censor it so badly LMFAO

i don’t have anything else to say aside from i’m so sorry choi kkuma

this is part of the doting on you! series.

#svt smut #seungcheol smut #svthub #seventeen smut #scoups smut #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

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cherubfae · 7 months

Note

Hello! I'm not sure if you do single characters or not but What if the reader (who's a big fan of horror) wanted to show Alastor some classic horror movies. Their reasoning? "So you can make fun of it," If you do a collection of characters, then it can be like a movie night for the hotel.

Hiya love!! Yes, I do! In fact I'm currently working on a longer Alastor fic at the moment :)) it's like this request was made for me bc I 100% will force Alastor to watch the Scream franchise with me 😭 it's my fave. I'm a mega horror fan, haha! Maybe I'll have to write for slashers again like I used to! I'll just write Al since he deserves some love for himself!! Pls excuse me bc now I'm gonna be thinking about 1920s GhostFace Alastor 😩😩🩷💕

What's Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Alastor x reader

tags: fluff, gn!reader, Alastor critiquing horror media, plot to the Scream franchise, my horror obsession might be showing lmao

Getting Alastor to have anything to do with post 1930s technology was a task and a half. He might've made a deal with Vaggie not to have anything to do with such frivolous technology, but you weren't Vaggie. You were his sweet, dear partner. And he'd never admit just how tightly wrapped he was around your finger.

He seemed to genuinely enjoy the first few Halloween movies as well as the first Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Alastor took a great of interest with Hannibal Lector from The Silence of Lambs. He was deeply considering watching the television series you told him of. He thinks Freddy Krueger is a piece of shit and wished he could do him in with his own hands.

The next movie, however, seemed more susceptible to being torn to pieces by his ever-watchful eye.

"So the point of this picture show is what... Billy is angry because his mother abandoned him and he doesn't know how to deal with those big feelings at his age?" Alastor gives an indignant snort, looking bemused at the old television screen currently playing a VHS of Wes Craven's 1996 slasher classic Scream. That's as new of tech as Alastor would allow, so you made do.

Snorting out a laugh, you lean against his arm. Alastor's crackling gaze flickers to you his smile softening around the edges. He did very much adore your laugh.

"That about sums it up, yes," you grin, biting down on the corner of your chocolate bar.

Alastor leans his back against the sofa, pulling the blanket wrapped around you two closer. "I don't know how that Macher boy thinks that peer pressure is a justifiable defense for murdering people." He unwraps his own piece of bitter chocolate and pops it into his mouth. "Own up to your choices, for Heaven's sake. And people find these two attractive? Are they not in love with one another? Surely anyone with two good working eyes could see this."

The sixth Scream movie damn near has Alastor foaming at the mouth, each and every movie felt as repetitive as the last with slight twists and changes. He was polite to keep most critiques to himself, eyeing how much you clearly enjoyed showing something so near and dear to your heart. While the plot was rather lackluster, he had to admit he was interested in the severe brutality of the sixth and despite his opposition to new media, felt that it was a decent enough film. With such a repetitive storyline, he didn't really expect that sort of twist.

"There's one more we can watch!" You grin, holding up your copy of Scary Movie. Alastor's eyes look ready to pop out of his skull as if to say 'Oh god, another??' "I don't think you'll guess who the GhostFace is!"

"Is it the man called Doofy?"

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"What the fuck-- how."

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin imagines #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor headcanons #cherubfae 2024

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cooliestghouliest · 9 months

Text

PUTTY, chapter one

(chapter one), (chapter two), (chapter three)

PAIRING: virgin!Eddie/former cheerleader!Reader

SUMMARY: Eddie has a little brother. Eddie’s little brother has a babysitter.

SERIES TAGS and C/W’s: mutual pining, experienced!Reader, inexperienced!Eddie but he’s eager to learn, mostly sub!Eddie, insecurities and self doubt, narcissistic and/or absent parents, jealousy, mean basketball players, hurt/comfort, they smoke weed, eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), uniform kink, dirty talk, foot jobs, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), public sex, sex toys, unprotected PiV. more to be added as this progresses!!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k+

A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. fun fact that this was one of the first Stranger Things fanfics i ever wrote. it was originally titled She Was Straight From Hell, But You Could Never Tell, and featured Eddie alongside an OC. i’ve changed it to be reader-insert, because that seems to be more in my writing wheelhouse nowadays. this fic will be multiple parts — it begins with backstory, but will eventually branch off into a universe of little smutty ficlets where Reader will corrupt virgin!Eddie as much as humanely possible.

—

Eddie hadn't known about the existence of his little brother until two months ago, when Al Munson showed up in the middle of the night with a small child in tow. Eddie didn't even know his dad was out of prison again, and yet here he was, in the flesh, a little boy with a mop of black curls resembling Eddie's own cradled in his leather jacket-clad arms.

Al was lucky Wayne was working or else this family reunion would have gone south fast.

While Wayne wasn't Al's biggest fan, Al was Eddie's dad, and Eddie would always hold onto as many moments with his father as he could get, no matter how sparse, and no matter how much of a self-serving piece of shit asshole Al Munson truly was.

But Eddie didn’t see it like that. Eddie saw it like this: His dad lived a hard life. His dad struggled with addictions. His dad lost a wife, just as Eddie had lost a mother. His dad tried his best with what he had.

Deep down, Eddie knew these were all just sorry excuses, but he kept that truth tucked away, not wanting to deal with the reality that Al truly only cared about himself.

He already had one dead parent. If he cut his dad out of his life, he’d basically have two.

"When'd you get out?" Eddie asked, stepping aside so Al could enter. His eyes followed the child, brows furrowed. The trailer was always Al's first stop on his freedom tour and the older man had always brought some sort of baggage along with him -- never a little kid, though. What the hell kind of trouble had his dad gotten into this time?

"Few days ago," Al replied, heading for the living room. He placed the sleeping child down on the worn sofa, then straightened and faced Eddie. "Listen, son, you gotta do me a favor. I'm not out long this time. I might've robbed an ATM or two last night. I'm kinda on the lam."

Al didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish at his wrongdoing.

Eddie was used to this. Even when Al was a free man, he was never a free man for long. He didn't think his dad knew how to coexist among non-inmate citizens. Eddie didn't think his dad even wanted to. Prison was a creature comfort for the elder Munson. Eddie wasn't necessarily mad at that fact. He was happy when Al was locked up, because then at least he knew where his dad was. Otherwise, Eddie worried his father would eventually get himself into a situation he wouldn't be able to get out of, and Eddie would really never see him again.

Eddie was also used to Al showing up after months and months, sometimes even years and years, such as now, always asking for favors.

"Who is that?" Eddie asked, pointing towards the couch, not being able to ignore the other human in the room any longer.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I need your help with.” Al rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, no way to do this other than to just say it. That there's your little brother, Eddie. His name's Oliver. And I need you and Wayne to look after him while I'm gone."

"My... what..." Eddie stammered, face scrunching up. He expected Al to burst out laughing and admit he was just fucking around, and that this tiny sleeping stranger was actually just the kid of a fellow convict buddy. Maybe it was said convict buddy’s turn to rob ATMs tonight, leaving Al the babysitter. Irresponsible. Unlikely. And, turns out, untrue.

With Al's silence, Eddie knew his dad’s admission wasn't a joke.

Eddie was beyond confused now.

"Dad, how... you've been in prison for six years!"

"Conjugal visits," Al answered with a bit of a smug shrug.

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. "What the fuck? Wayne can't afford another kid that's not even his... and I'm in school still, I can't watch him... this isn't... I don't know how..."

But Al was already making his way to the door.

"I know you'll figure it out. I can always count on you, my boy," Al prided, tone cheery as if the favor he'd just asked of Eddie was to give him a quick ride somewhere or find an old family recipe.

Al wasn't acting like he was ditching another Munson offspring off on his older brother. He was treating this like an issue of minor importance, just a little speed bump on an otherwise flat road.

Al Munson was not an upstanding person. Never had been, never would be. Because of this, Eddie shouldn't have been surprised or appalled, but here he was, standing with his mouth agape. Surprised. Appalled.

His dad was out the door with a lighthearted, "See ya 'round, son," and Eddie was left speechless in the middle of the living room.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne got over the new addition to the Munson household fairly quickly.

While he'd been livid at first, calling up all of Al's old friends he'd still had the numbers of to try and find out where his dumb shit of a younger brother was, Wayne eventually became resigned to the idea that he now had another little boy to rear and mold.

What else could he do?

Wayne took care of his kin, especially if they were innocent bystanders and had no say in being born in the first place. He'd raised Eddie, and although he knew the boy had his struggles, he didn't think he'd done too bad of a job.

Eddie never went hungry, always had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, and Wayne was the one who haggled Eddie's van down to a reasonable price so the boy could pay for it with his lunch box salary.

Wayne knew about the weed and the pills, but so long as Eddie stayed smart about where he was selling and who he was selling to, he didn't much mind Eddie's unconventional line of work. It helped his nephew stay somewhat social, and Wayne knew how important that would be for Eddie's future. If the boy was nothing but a lone recluse his whole life, he'd probably end up just like Al. Nobody wanted that.

Eddie was just about grown now. Sure, he was rearing twenty and still in his senior year of high school, but Wayne had an inkling that '86 would be Eddie's year.

Wayne had always thought about selling the trailer and buying an RV with retirement money once Eddie was out on his own. He wanted to travel the country for the remainder of his life.

The idea that he'd have to raise up another wild Munson for the next fifteen or so years caused a knot to form in his stomach.

Would Wayne even be around for that much longer? He may have been relatively healthy, and he was only in his mid 60's, but Wayne wasn't an idiot. He knew anything could happen at any time.

Wayne knew he needed help this time around. He figured he could count on Eddie here and there, but Eddie needed to focus on school this year if he planned on finally walking the stage. Because of this, Wayne decided to enlist the help of someone on the outside. Someone with experience.

So, he posted an ad in the Hawkins Post, looking for a full-time nanny for a five-year-old boy to start as soon as possible, and waited for a response.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Wayne didn't have to wait long.

Two mornings following the job post, shortly after he'd returned home from work, he heard a knock on the trailer door.

When he answered, he saw a pretty young thing standing on the front stoop.

"Hi!" you greeted, then immediately began to ramble. "Are you Mr. Munson? I hope it's okay I just showed up... there wasn't a number listed, only an address, and I didn't know if you wanted me to write a response and mail it, but the ad seemed maybe a little urgent, so I thought, hey, what's the harm in just... showing... up..."

You trailed off, feeling silly for word vomiting during your first impression. He was watching you with a small smile, eyes flickering with what looked like amusement, especially as your cheeks began to color to the soft red of embarrassment.

Listing no number on the ad was intentional. He hadn't owned a rotary phone in about ten years, after having tried to cut back on bills, and he knew not just anyone would make the trek to Forest Hills for a potential job offer. He’d figured only committed applicants that wouldn't waste his time would follow through.

"I have a lot of experience," you continued on at his silence, almost as if you couldn't help it, compelled to divulge all the information you could in the first three minutes of meeting. Wayne found it endearing. "I used to babysit for three different families when I was in high school. And I have two little sisters. My mom and dad worked a lot growing up, so I spent a lot of time with them. Didn't get paid, but... I made sure they didn't die or anything..."

From their brief interaction thus far, Wayne knew he succeeded in his method of weeding out flakes. You were obviously serious about the position. He felt he was a decent judge of character, and he'd learned in life that sometimes over-explaining was synonymous with caring.

"Sorry," you said, forcing out a little laugh. "I guess I could have just introduced myself. You didn't really need to know all that." You shot your hand out, giving your name. "I'm here about the nannying gig. Um, obviously. That is, if I didn't already scare you off."

Wayne took your hand in both of his own, shaking it. He placated you with a grin. "It's a lot harder than that to scare off a Munson, sweetheart. Let's go inside and meet Olly."

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Although Oliver Munson was only five, he had a spectacular vocabulary and a limitless imagination. Wayne knew the boy was a little charmer, quite like how Eddie was when he allowed himself to be, when the teenager wasn't drowning himself in existential teenage angst and nonsense.

You fell under Olly's spell almost instantly.

And it seemed the little boy had fallen under yours as well.

Oliver didn't stop talking to you while you were there, and didn't stop talking about you after you’d left, asking when you’d be back and if next time you could take him to the trailer park's playground and maybe you two could watch G.I. Joe or He-Man together afterward.

Wayne had taken your number down before you’d left and had told you he'd be in touch soon.

Later that evening, after Eddie had gotten back from his club meeting at school, Wayne took the trip into downtown Hawkins to use the payphone and ask you if you wouldn't mind starting as early as tomorrow.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You were far from struggling for money.

Your father was a sought-after criminal prosecutor for the entirety of Indiana. Your mother was a real estate agent for high profile clientele who came from old family money; her father was CEO of a day trading business, and his father before him had been the same.

Although you likely would have never had to work a day in your life and could live a comfortable existence off of inheritance alone, handouts and the humdrum of an All-Play-and-No-Work lifestyle was never a dream of yours. That sounded so cookie cutter, so monotonous, so boring.

You liked to feel a sense of accomplishment. You liked setting goals and reaching them. You didn't want to freeload off of money that was gained from the capitalistic professions your parents were a part of. You wanted to be in control of your own finances and be the author of your own future, not have it already be etched into stone simply by being just another rich kid from Hawkins, à la the likes of the Carver's or the Cunningham's or the Harrington's.

You were ecstatic when you got the call from Wayne, asking you if you’d be willing to start the following day. He left for work at 2PM, so you’d have to be there before then, and would need to plan on staying until Wayne's nephew got home around six.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you felt a bit nervous, but the job itself wasn't the reason why that writhing feeling accompanied your excitement.

You had more than ten years of babysitting experience under your belt, and you were eager to get back into a job you actually enjoyed as opposed to trying out different careers to see what stuck and what didn't. Having graduated the spring before, you’d been taking an off year to save up money by working odd jobs around Hawkins to be able to buy your own apartment.

You’d worked as a florist for a few weeks, but it turned out your thumb was pitch black instead of green.

You worked as the personal assistant for a group of lawyers from a local law firm, but it turned out they just needed office eye candy and not someone to actually get any sort of work done.

You worked as a veterinary assistant, but it turned out the job was much more than just petting cats and dogs. You couldn't handle it when a sick animal would come in and there would be nothing anyone could do. Your heart broke more at that clinic than it had your entire life.

You were in between jobs when you’d decided to peruse the classified section of the Hawkins post. There, in the shortest blurb on the page, was a listing for a needed nanny, a full-time position offering negotiable pay.

The next bit was where the excitement wavered.

The listing was published by a Wayne Munson of the Forest Hills trailer park.

That had to be Eddie Munson's uncle. There was no way there were two separate Munson families living in the only trailer park in Kerley County.

You couldn't believe that you’d stumbled across this ad, that the geeky metalhead you’d crushed on since your freshman year of high school had a little brother you could be the potential nanny of.

You were two years younger than Eddie, but that hadn't stopped you from losing periods of time to daydreams about the way the wind ruffled his wild mess of curls on breezy days or the way his band tee sleeves always clung perfectly to the soft muscles of his biceps or the way his cheeks dimpled when he teased the other boys he sat with at lunch.

You’d always wanted to introduce yourself, but you didn't run in the same crowds -- you being on the cheer team and Eddie blasting Black Sabbath in the parking lot after his Hellfire meetings. You could never muster the courage. He seemed so carefree, so full of life, so effortlessly funny. Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend, had spoken to him once or twice and had told you how different he was than what other people said about him. He wasn't scary or mean or threatening, and instead was warm and silly and genuine.

But you knew how the people you spent your time around treated people like him. You knew your group of "friends" referred to him as a freak, a Satan worshipper, and did everything in their power to try to bully him into becoming a shell of himself. Thankfully, he never did -- it was almost as if Eddie absorbed the hatefulness and spent it tenfold by mocking the hilarity of the jock hierarchy that ruled the school, as well as using it to strengthen his own ability to embrace every misfit that walked the halls of Hawkins High.

You never introduced yourself because you were afraid he’d think you had an ulterior motive, that you’d be trying to talk to him as a joke or a prank. You knew the company you kept. You were sure Jason Carver had once or twice suggested you do just that, lead Eddie on and make a fool of him in front of the whole school.

You figured it'd be best to just stay away.

But now, you thought finding this ad was possibly a sign from the universe.

Maybe you were getting a second chance.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Eddie was running late.

He was supposed to be back home half an hour ago to relieve whoever Olly's new babysitter was of her duties, but the campaign had taken a shocking turn and Hellfire couldn't disband until it had commenced.

The night finally ended with Will's character decapitating Dustin's, and Eddie had to thwart an actual attack when Dustin leapt across the game table at Will in a bout of rage. Dustin was small but mighty, and Eddie had to physically wrestle the boy off of Will's neck, threatening to banish Dustin from the next few campaigns if he didn’t chill out. Henderson had huffed and puffed but had admitted defeat and apologized to Will for the attempted murder.

By the time Eddie arrived back to the trailer park, the sun had almost set. He pulled his van into his parking spot to the right of the trailer and shut it off. Stepping out, he swung his backpack over his shoulder, but came to a halt when he heard Olly's scream sound from behind the trailer.

Dropping his bag and beginning to run toward the noise, Eddie's heart fell to his stomach. Horrible images of what could possibly be pulling that sound from his little brother pervaded Eddie's mind. He had an overactive imagination to begin with, and something like this verbal cue only egged it on. "Olly!" he shouted, panic raising his voice. "Olly, are you okay?! What’s going on, where are --"

Eddie came to a halt when he found the boy in the backyard with a huge smile spread across his small, sweaty face. Olly had a fake crown on, one made of twigs and leaves, and he was carrying one of the biggest sticks Eddie had ever seen. He had a blanket tucked into the back of his shirt, the cloth a makeshift cape. A thin piece of metal, probably from one of the cars Wayne and Eddie sometimes worked on, was wrapped around his center, acting as armor.

Olly had just been playing.

Letting out a heavy breath of relief, Eddie noticed your frame just off to the side. His eyes started from the ground up, noting the shiny red Docs donning your feet, moving up bare legs that were covered mid-thigh by a short black skater dress, one that hugged your curves in a way that had Eddie’s mouth going dry.

By the time he reached your face, your eyes were wide with amusement.

You’d been watching as he slowly drank you in. He didn't mean to ogle. He had to shake his head a few times to clear it, and when he did so, the face before him started looking more and more familiar.

"Wait," he started, head tilting. He spoke your name, tone riddled with confusion. "From high school?"

You were about to answer when Oliver cleared his throat, obviously not wanting to be ignored or to have his playtime interrupted any longer. You looked down at the boy, who pointed up to his head at his crown. You got the gist -- Olly wanted the game to continue. You could indulge him. You’d been doing it all day, and honestly you’d been having the most fun you’d had in a while.

You turned your attention back to Eddie, fixing your posture and jutting your chin out slightly. "I don't know who that is," you began, voice lilting. "I am Princess Guinevere of Kerley County and this here,” you brought your gaze back down to Oliver, “is my most loyal servant, Sir Olly of Castle Munson."

Eddie couldn't help the grin that broke out over his face at your announcement. He then took a moment to fully take in the rest of your appearance. You, too, had on a makeshift crown, this one made up of cherry blossoms and daisies. You had a flowing blanket tucked into the back of your dress, cascading down your back like a veil.

No fucking way were you, last year's cheerleading captain and prom queen, standing in his backyard playing fucking knights and princesses with his little brother. No fucking way.

Olly broke the silence by shouting out, "Hey, Eddie! Who are you gonna be?"

Eddie tore his eyes from you to focus on his brother. He pursed his lips to one side in thought, trying to come up with a character. He was usually quick on his feet when it came to creative play, but he had just spent the last three hours DM'ing a month-long DnD campaign. His brain felt shot. He was pulled from his introspective reverie by your soft, suggestive voice — no, sorry — the soft, suggestive voice of Princess Guinevere.

"Wanna be my dragon, Eddie?" you asked.

Eddie wasn't exactly sure why that made his breath catch in his throat.

He nodded dumbly, silent, then forced himself to speak because he didn't want to look totally lame in front of a Princess. "Okay. Yeah, I'll be your dragon."

You graced him with a smile before Oliver's tiny but booming voice cut through the air of the darkening night. "HEY! Dragons don't talk!" the boy stomped his foot and hit his stick against the muddy ground in annoyance.

A laugh bubbled from your throat and Eddie grinned, jumping into a wide-legged stance before outstretching his arms, tilting his head back, and roaring.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things

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zhongrin · 2 years

Text

behind the screen

◇ characters ◇ zhongli

◇ tags ◇ yandere, sagau

◇ a/n ◇ ok ok ok story time liSTEN-

i was showing a friend genshin for the first time few weekends ago, and ofc i had zhongli out (she wasn't interested in him tho, sad) to walk around and basically show her around the world. and then we stopped a bit while i explained the whole thing about the usual party composition & the concept of gacha, and ofc zhongli starts talking about osmanthus wine-

so i rolled my eyes (cause i was in the middle of an explanation) and said "zhongli shush" and you know what happened? he. fucking. stopped. talking. the idle animation canceled. i almost pissed myself until i remembered the controller was in my friend's hand and she had moved the joystick. THAT ALMOST SCARED ME TO DEATH SLFJSLJFLS LMAO

so yeah have a drabble 'inspired' by that. toodles~

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

he knows you love his voice.

it's something you always tell him, both directly and indirectly. you would drop in his voiceover menu every now and then, purposefully put him on idle so you can listen to his musings, and whenever he appears on scenes you would visibly deflate if the dialogues involving him are muted from your side. at such times, he takes one step closer to the idea of breaking this world's laws entirely, because if you wish to hear him then you should be able to - you should always get whatever you want, the deity that you are in his eyes.

like now, when you're gushing about him to what seems to be your friend. he's never heard of her before, but you seem close, and he feels the familiar twitch of his fingers, itching to reach out to you, to pull you close and smother you with his presence instead.

from the way you had to explain the basics of his world, he assumes your friend is a complete beginner entirely. but surprisingly she doesn't seem to be too impressed with him, despite the excitement that's filling your voice, and he can sense how agitated it made you. true enough, when he stealthily sneaks a glance, you're pouting a little before you launch into an explanation of how necessary of an addition he is to the team, and the workings behind the gacha system.

adorable.

... but your attention is slipping away from him. now that- he can't have that. he sighs and triggers the idle function with your favorite audio file that he frequently abuses, feeling his body and lips move as per the scripted codes.

"osmanthus wine-"

"zhongli, shush!"

...... what?

it was a reflex. a force of habit, you could say. no one likes to be talked over by someone else when they're talking, right?

"sorry, he's a little-"

you stop talking because suddenly, it's silent. the hair on the back of your neck rises.

"did you move the joystick?" you ask your friend, eyeing the now-still 3d model of your favorite character on the big tv screen.

"huh? no?" she answered, waving the gadget by its handle with one hand, "uh- didn't you say it has drifting problems? maybe it's that?"

".... yeah........ yeah, that's got to be it. anyway, as i was saying-"

zhongli is needlessly quiet for the rest of your little showcase. you continue to talk with your friend happily, the little event pushed to the back of your mind as you enjoy spending time with one of your favorite people, throwing jokes, laughs, and eventually turning off genshin to move on to celebrity crushes and a cute looking singer that's going to have his little concert in the city soon.

zhongli lets you.

for it would be the last time you could enjoy the such activity before he forcefully pulls you into their side.

to his side, where you rightfully belong to.

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere #sagau #rin writes

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hobicakess · 9 months

Text

PLAYING DANGEROUS — (teaser)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! I can't wait to write for this series. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

part one

There was a manic laughter that echoed through the new station. The giggles caused shivers and goosebumps to pass through everybody in the building simply because that laughter was familiar. The sounds were admitting from the little black box that sat on your desk. In horror you and your peers that happened to be close by watch the little black clown that popped from graffiti painted the box swing animatedly back and forth. Everyone in Korea knew this clown and what it meant.

“Mr.Kim is not seeing anyone right-” you push the secretary out your way causing her to stumble on her kitten heels and she watches you stomp your way into her bosses and yours office. The door opens wide slamming against the wall causing the booksvon the shelves to tremble, some even tumbling to the floor.

There he sat Kim Namjoon. He stared at you with his eyebrow raised. Some of the buttons of his black dress shirt were unbuttoned, the glass at his side was filled with brown liquid and even more books and papers laid out messily on his desk. .

With as much force as you could you throw the giggling box at him. The impact smacking him hard on the chest but with his build you were sure that it didn't do a thing. He held it in his hands flipping it over clicking an unknown button, shutting the gut wrenching sound shut off.

“ You told me if I took this story I'd be safe,*

Namjoon sighs as if you were speaking nonsense and not about life or death. “Let's be clear here you agreed to take this story when I only simply suggested it. Besides what makes you think Jack sent this?” He was right.

Maybe your coworkers thought I'd be funny to freak you out a little more since taking on the Clown killer case, still it was a sick joke that you didn't really find funny.

“Jack is locked in a maximum security prison surrounded by guards, and guns. He's not getting out anytime soon.”

The door swung open again and there stood his assistant. “Mr.Kim turned the news on!”

Grabbing the remote he clicks on the TV that was mounted on the wall of his office. The screen lights up showing a familiar smoking building. Your heart began to speed up in rhythm as you stare at the headline

Serial killer Jack In The Box escapes from Hangsang Maximum security prison

The screen flicks again to the dark red writings on the wall that used to be his cell.

‘See you soOn honey bunches 🃏’

And that was the last thing you saw before you tumble to the ground.

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

#bts x black reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #dee recs.#jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #dee reblogs.#hoseok x reader #rapline x reader #hyunglinexreader #bts fanfic #mafia bts #gangster bts #yandere yoongi #yandere bts

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vampiretendencies · 2 years

Text

request; as a cuddler person myself i wonder how JJ would be with an s/o that just loves to initiate physical contact like he does, randomly peppering his face with kisses, sudden hugs and giving him back massages and playing with his hair, just i see him and i want to burrow myself in his embrace, so your fics are literally a bible for me, thank you for sharing them with us 🫶

a/n; of course! i love that y'all love how i've been portraying jj's character as one of physical touch, i really imagine this is how he'd be and i like that you can relate. you are so real for this anon. first blurb !!!! also a repost, because it wasn’t staying in the tags ! requests are open

warnings; fluff!!

pairing; jj x fem reader

summary; all the instances that you were as equally addicted to jj as he is to you. and what's the harm in that?

"Keep scratching, and m'gonna be snoring against this window."

"Not like you haven't before."

The Twinkie deemed to have the most shade. You and JJ sneaking off nearly an hour ago, and the Pogues still haven't caught on— a miracle really.

Sprawled out on the back floor of the vehicle. JJ's focus was rolling a joint, but he ultimately could not.

He couldn't pinpoint wether it was the sulkiness of your saccharine voice, or the dancing of your fingertips to his tanned back. You glided your nails gently against the flesh beneath his button up shirt, rhythmically and methodically.

Up and down.

JJ waited for every last scratch like a small child.

Shell of your ear too his back as well, whilst you made your self comfortable enough to lie there for every last scratch.

It made JJ weak that you too commence physical touch. Not that he had any issue at all doing it himself— he discerned it as feeling desire.

That you desired him.

That by any means necessary you must be touching JJ's body in some form or some way, and that he must be touching yours.

Of deriving seen and safe with the one you are infatuated with most.

So no, you and JJ are not handsy every moment either of you get because you want to (both of you really do though) it's the closeness, the sensation of sincerity, being eachother's person.

Physical touch will always be a love language of insurmountable heights to constantly chase your fulfillment of craving another.

"Little higher, baby"

Voice clouded with exhaustion, he'd given up on rolling a joint— a slumber about to overcome him.

And you were too. A beaming expression on your features, whilst your scratching slowed and JJ's face did in fact meet with the glass of the window.

"Y'all know we're in public, right?"

Kie sighed, almost embarrassed if the both of you weren't her friends and if this wasn't her family's restaurant.

Initially, the contact started because you were cold.

Seconds pass, and you're then swiveling around in JJ's lap to face him. The booth of the wreck not exactly being the most convenient place to be sat chest to chest with your boyfriend, but it works.

John B, Kie and Pope took the other side of the booth, you and JJ both arguing with them that you didn't want to be separated from each other, forcing them to sacrifice their own personal space for the couples adoration.

"How are you not use to it by now?"

Pope crunches on a greasy fry, elbowing John B whom has a mouth full of sloppy cheeseburger. All Kie could muster was a milkshake because she complained that you and JJ were making her 'lose her appetite’.

You and JJ have a sly smirk shared, legs hanging aimlessly by the sides of his. Call it lovesick, that you'd both been admiring eachother's features, sat face to face— as close as could possibly be. You thumb over the little pattern of freckles that adorn right above his jaw line. As he gently hums in the palm of your hand. JJ's hands sat low on your thighs.

"Tell the entire wreck to get use to it because it's not going anywhere."

JJ sends Kie a toothy grin, whilst your head finds its way to JJ's broad shoulder. The muscular vessel, becoming the most pleasant pillow. You giggle into Ju's neck— such a somber, breathy laugh that has him nearly bursting at the seams.

He wanted to hear that on repeat— like physically record it, take an Airpod, and drill it into his memory.

You grasp him, in a hugging manner, the warmth radiating off of his skin like that of blanket. Digits worming their way up to the tufts at the bottom of JJ's hair, the nape so forgotten, and peaceful. Showing it some attention, has goosebumps arising throughout the entirety of JJ. You feathered the thick honey-like lock around your finger, wondering how hair could suit a person so.

"Ain't that right, baby?"

"Mhm."

JJ was on the brink of losing his job at the country club again, as he's about to be late for the third time this week.

Two out of those three times were early shifts, meaning he literally could not get out of bed with you in it. Having a significant other and working, was a handful for JJ- mainly because he needed that physical touch that simply no one else could give him.

All hours of the day, 24/7, without fail, but if JJ wanted money for certain things then he was forced to. He couldn't be a kelptomaniac forever, no, not with you in the picture.

At least, todays shift was an afternoon one.

Goes without being said, that this morning he truly took advantage of the remaining time he had with you.

But now, he may or may not end up late again due to him not being able to find his truck keys.

He rummaged though all of his belongings at the chateau, upon you waiting for him to just peek around the corner and all would be solved.

"Baby, have you seen my-"

There you stood clad in one of his sleeveless tees only, arms crossed, whilst the truck keys hang off of your index finger— awaiting him to grab them and that he did.

"Really I mean it, what would I ever do without you, pretty girl?"

He resonates, foot steps pacing whilst he motioned grabby hands at you— stumbling for your embrace.

A veiny arm practically magnitates itself to your back, traveling lower and lower until it grasps the bottom of your ass. Wallowing in his last few touches for the next several hours.

"Live a horrible, horrible life...”

The imaginative like tune of your voice has JJ melting into your skin, peering down like you would be whisked away in a matter of minutes.

"Damn right, baby."

Your socked-in tippy toes in full affect, whilst you gently hold either sides of JJ's face and he closes his eye's lovingly. Knowing full well what you were up to.

A fit of small, pepper-like kisses are daintily littered across JJ's face. Fingers rubbing forward in repeated— taunting motions. The residue of your glossed over, plump lips, is shining thoroughly about his face. But he always reminds you to leave it, so he has that reminder of you throughout the day. Forehead aligning with his, flush bodies.

JJ is salivating.

"Anymore of that, and I won't have a job."

"You're going to work JJ."

#jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x oc #outer banks #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank smut #obx pogues #rafe cameron imagines #kiara carrera #pope heyward #john b routledge

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writingforstraykids · 7 months

Note

what about sub minho with dom felix? like all the boys think felix definitely gets topped by minho and then they hear felix ruining him in the dorms…

He deserved it

Pairing: Minlix (mention of OT8 | Chanin)

Word Count: 1324

Summary: Felix marks his territory after listening to Minho drooling for Chan all day.

Warnings/Tags: smut, whiny!sub!min, rough!dom!lix, degradation (slut), spanking (shortly)

A/N: Loved that one...might post a 2nd part if you want🤭

PART TWO

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

The boys were all sitting on the sofa watching a movie when their front door opened. The two missing members came inside, and Chan greeted them with a wave, frowning at how pissed Felix looked. The rest couldn't help but stare either as Minho put his sneakers aside, tensing up as Felix grabbed his wrist tightly. Minho blushed heavily as Felix whispered something to him and nodded timidly.

Felix pulled him into the living room and pushed him past their friends. Minho was waving at them with a small smile before getting pushed up the stairs.

The door to Minho's bedroom fell closed and Chan blinked a little in surprise. “What the hell did we miss?”

“God, Lix looked pissed,” Jisung chimed in.

Hyunjin frowned gently. “Did I just see that right?”

“Felix's in charge when it's those two?” Changbin asked, stunned.

“I always thought….,” Seungmin started, blushing a little and stopping himself from finishing that sentence.

“Minho…a bottom? Minho being submissive?!” Jeongin finished it for him.

“Nah, that can't be. Felix is way too-” Chan trailed off at a sudden noise, the bedframe hitting the wall.

Jisung grabbed the remote, turning the volume down. None of them protested. All of them had been sleeping with at least two other members. None of them really remembered when that started, but they didn't mind having seven pretty guys at their disposal whenever they needed someone.

“Felix can be dominant,” Jeongin told them and blushed, thinking of their last encounter. “But with Minho?”

“He can?” Chan frowned, surprised. “He was sobbing last time; I can hardly imagine that,” he giggled. What made him even more curious was the thought of Minho being submissive. They never hooked up yet because they both liked to be the one in control. A loud moan of Minho answered his question and he sank deeper into the sofa as they rose in pitch, matching the bed frame hitting the wall. “Oh god,” he whispered to himself, and Changbin threw him an amused glance.

Minho's face was buried in the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack, leaving him no way to silence the noise. He could only hope the others wouldn't hear him getting ruined by Felix; they'd never take him seriously after that. He gripped the sheets as Felix pounded into him, pulling his bum up high and making his back arch beautifully.

“Not so talkative now, huh,” Felix gritted out between his teeth, and Minho moaned in response. “Behaving like such a little slut instead of asking.”

“I'm sorry,” he whimpered and cried out in pleasurable pain as Felix slapped his bum.

“No, you're not,” Felix shook his head, picking up the force of his thrusts, shoving Minho up the mattress. The older one weakly reached up to brace himself against the headboard and stop himself from scooting up even more. “Talking about Channie hyung all night, saying he'd make you cum harder than I ever did.”

“I wa-ahh-s joking,” he moaned out in pure bliss. “Needed you, wa-wanted you so bad.”

“Yeah, so needy that you started talking shit?” he asked and slapped him again.

Minho grew slack with a loud whimper, tears shooting to his eyes. “Mhm, so needy.”

“Needy little slut,” Felix growled and changed the angle of his hips. “You're mine.”

Minho nodded dumbly and gripped the sheets tightly as another harsh pain shot through his left cheek as Felix's hand hit it. “Only need you, don't need Cha-ahhnn,” he moaned out obscenely loud as Felix hit his prostate and made his body shake.

Chan's ears burned up, eyes widening and lips parting at the sound of Minho moaning his name so loudly it could be heard in the whole house. If he hadn't been hard before, he definitely would be now. He didn't dare lift his gaze and check if the others had caught it as well and shifted a little on the sofa, getting uncomfortable. Looking up, he noticed Changbin and Hyunjin had started kissing, and Jisung was seated in Seungmin's lap.

“Hyungie?” Jeongin spoke up, and Chan turned his head to his maknae. He was sitting on his knees next to him, eyes teary at the neglect of the others, and his sweatpants did a bad job of hiding his arousal.

Chan's face softened, and he patted his thighs. “Come here, baby,” he said, and Jeongin quickly shuffled over, straddling his lap and pressing down against him with a soft sigh. Chan gently cupped his face, soothingly rubbing his thumbs across his cheekbones, and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Need your hyung to take care of his little baby?” he asked quietly enough for only them to hear.

“Please,” he whispered, needily grinding down against him.

Minho was seeing stars by now, unable to form a clear sentence. He couldn't stop the noise from leaving his mouth, and it had him writhing with embarrassment. Felix had never gone so hard on him before, and fuck he loved it. “Close,” he whimpered, and Felix laughed.

“Forget it, you're not cumming before I say so,” he told him. “I'll show your beloved Channie just how fucked out you are once I'm done with you.” An obscene moan spilled from Minho's lips, and he clenched hard around him. “My baby would like that, huh? Such a needy little slut.”

“So needy,” Minho slurred, completely out of it by now. “Please,” he whimpered, a tear falling from his face.

“Please, what?” Felix asked sharply, dragging his dick across his prostate with every harsh snap of his hips.

“Need to -ohh- cum,” he choked out, curling his fists in the sheets so tightly his nails drew blood even through the fabric. “Please, can't-” he breathed out before breaking apart with another loud moan.

“Go on then, cum and make a mess, like the needy little slut you are,” Felix told him, and Minho's body shook intensely only seconds later. He came with a broken shout of his name, sobbing into the pillow weakly as Felix kept chasing his high.

Chan gently kissed Jeongin, rubbing his hips after tucking him back in. “How the fuck are they still going?” the younger one asked, and Chan laughed.

“No idea,” he said, noticing they were the only ones left in the living room. Jeongin curled up against his chest and Chan soothingly rubbed his back. His ears burned up at the sound of Minho stumbling over the edge, and closed his eyes, hoping they'd stop before he'd lose his mind. It got quiet soon, and after another few minutes, Felix strolled down the stairs, looking pleased with himself. “You menace.”

“He deserved it,” Felix shrugged and smirked at Chan. “Didn't stop talking about you ruining him. Should've seen him when I told him I'd show you how wrecked he is.”

“Felix,” he gasped, and Jeongin stared at his friend in wonder.

“Never thought you'd be so jealous,” Jeongin snorted.

“Well, I am,” he laughed and exchanged a glance with Chan.

“Please tell me you didn't leave him there like that?” he said, barely above a whisper.

“He's fine; he gets emotional, that's all,” Felix shook his head. "Come on, hyung. Do him the favor and take care of him. I'll cuddle Innie. I promise he's fine; I wouldn't leave him if he weren't.”

Chan reluctantly handed over Jeongin to Felix and made his way up the stairs, heart thumping in his chest. Seeing Minho like this, he hadn't imagined it to happen like that. Chan pushed the door open, jaw dropping at the sight. “Oh my God,” he breathed out. Minho was sprawled out on the bed, sobbing quietly as cum dripped from his hole. His hair stuck to his face, tear streaks painted his cheeks, and his body shuddered. “Lix, we have dance practice tomorrow!” he shouted downstairs, and Felix cackled in response.

“Channie,” Minho whimpered, and Chan's stomach flipped at the sound of it.

Oh, for fucks sake.

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @gxtwllsn @xxstrayland

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herecirmsims · 8 months

Text

Trinity

Day five of the Countdown To Valentine's Day collab with the wonderful @simmireen and @simmerianne93! My gift for you today is a sleepy, slightly spicy morning wake-up for a trio of goooood friends (ha). I started work on a bunch of throuple sets last year because I felt like we didn't have many trio poses where EVERYONE involved was into each other, but then I never did anything with them because I'm a loser like that. Thank you to this collab for forcing me to release some of the stuff I've been sitting on. 😌🤣

These poses were made with two masc and one femme rig, and should be fairly gender neutral; but, as always, there may be clipping or floating depending on clothing and Sim body type.

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim - double bed

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

Download here (always free) SFS | Patreon

There'll be a new pack tomorrow! Be sure to follow Simmireen and Simmerianne93 as we're posting on alternate days!

I'd love to see them used! You can tag me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️

You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery. If you'd like to leave a tip that's always appreciated but never required. Have fun telling your stories!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc

#ts4-poses #ts4 posepack #ts4 group poses #herecirmposes #simmireen #simmerianne93 #countdowntovalentines

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itsonlydana · 7 months

Text

THRANDUIL'S GUIDE TO: LOOSING A JOB / WINNING A HEART | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

You are late for work and sure that your boss will sack you. Instead, Thranduil takes you and his kids to the park, and somehow the day takes a turn for the better.

tags/warnings: modern!AU, nanny!AU, mutual pining; characters: Thranduil, young!Legolas, young!Tauriel; rating: sfw

wordcount: 8,4k

an: sorry sorry sorry for not updating "passenger princess"; please take this as a small apology. I'm posting this after watching 'anyone but you' so know i'm dancing and singing rn

+ general m.list +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3

The subway doors shut close with a squeak, mere seconds after you stepped out. They gave you barely any time to think about whether you had everything important with you before the train hissed away again, disappearing into the dark tunnels that twisted like endless labyrinths beneath the city.

Not that you had the time for it; anything forgotten was lost, and you were already far too late to mourn a possibly left-behind lip balm.

Pressing your bag tightly against your side, you joined the stream of people, moving like an army of ants from the platform to the escalators.

It took a while before you could step onto the moving steps – of course, the third grade that had already been on the train when you had rushed in left at the same stop as you.

Screaming, uncontrollable children surrounded you, and you did your best not to make eye contact with any of them, impatiently staring at the approaching exit, the clear sky finding its way through high towering glass buildings.

As a very rude man in sportswear pushed ahead, mumbling swear words that the nanny in you wanted to scold him for, one of the kids stumbled against your legs.

Clammy hands grasped at the coat shielding you from the brisk autumn winds, its numerous inner pockets offering a secure haven for your valuables against the avaricious hands of pickpockets. Gazing downward, you found yourself locking eyes with a boy, his wide blue eyes reminding you that you were so so late...

You gave him an encouraging smile, causing the child to loosen his grip but he didn't let go until you reached the fresh air outside.

Out of habit, you quickly bent down, ignoring the complaints of an elderly lady behind you, and zipped up his bright orange jacket.

It was still early in the morning, the air cold, coloring the tips of noses and cheeks in blushes. Even if you didn't know this child, no parent would be happy to take a day off because of a sick child; especially not here.

Once the boy was properly bundled up, his big smile disappearing behind the fleece of the jacket, you straightened up and made your way through the crowd of people.

Somewhere in your pockets, your phone vibrated now that there was a reception and bombarded you with all the messages that didn't reach you in the last twenty minutes underground.

The sidewalk was bustling, shoulders pushing against shoulders, making it impractical to fish out the phone at the moment; it felt like a time-wasting endeavor, and the chance that you would start crying if anyone snapped at you for slowing down was far too high.

This whole morning left you on the brink of a meltdown, the stress bubbling under the surface, an itch under your skin that didn't want to leave you–

Opting for a brisk walk, you maneuvered through the lively streets of New York, a city of grand dreams that, at the moment, felt a bit out of reach.

Three years ago, following a string of peaceful years growing up in your quiet suburb, one of the Universities you had applied to offered you a full scholarship.

That led to packing up all your possessions, and you transitioned from the comfort of your familiar childhood room to a cramped studio, outweighed by more "cons" than "pros."

You initially went with the expectation of finally fulfilling the big dream, only to realize that living the dream in New York brought problems with them– like an expensive water and electricity bill, unfriendly neighbors that stole the washing machines and dropped your clothes onto the floor, and the inescapable feeling of loneliness amid millions.

After uni, one odd job followed another; "dishwasher in a food truck" and "Christmas-card door-to-door selling with Girl Scouts" were some of the tamer examples.

You did what you had to do, even if that sometimes involved horrendous pay for even more horrific work hours.

Sure, they were definitely experiences , but many of them were the kind that your parents used as a reason to convince you to come back home.

They were right on some level, there were nights you cried sitting alone on the floor of your apartment until the neighbors below you knocked on their ceiling, complaining about the noise, but these evenings were few and far between.

Ever since you got your current job it had reduced to once or twice a month!

It was by far the best on the now 40-line long list of abandoned "experiences." It was flexible, paid more than enough, and you actually looked forward to the days you had to work.

At first, you couldn't believe your eyes when Thranduil Oropherion (the Thranduil Oropherion, multimillionaire and head of the 'Greenleafs Children's Book Publishing' well before hitting thirty, face of the Times on many occasions) contacted you through an unknown babysitter matchmaking site.

Fortunately, the site wasn't so unknown that someone could pretend to be him; otherwise, you wouldn't have engaged in the subsequent chat, where you shared your babysitting experiences with him, and you certainly wouldn't have gone to the first meeting.

It had been in a small café near Central Park, and thankfully not at some fancy Italian place, as your remaining money for the month wouldn't have covered elegant evening wear.

Mr. Oropherion, Thranduil, as he insisted daily, was, unsurprisingly as attractive in person as the press had described.

You had seen pictures, heard of his name, maybe even looked him up once or twice ever since you started babysitting rich kids who had his books lining their shelves without reading them once. They were the kind of children who said "Please" nearly as often as "Thank you."

Close to never.

After being confronted with the beautifully bound books in most of their study rooms, you had googled the Green Leaf emblem, only to have the picture of the hottest man you have ever seen pop off.

The legs that went on for days, the long blonde hair, the warm voice sending chills down your spine as he explained his need for a new sitter- funny how you had no idea what the reason was, but knew exactly how his dark brows had furrowed and raised, how his voice had dropped lower on some words and higher on others.

Easy to say that you wasted no second after he asked you if you still wanted the job (still? To this day it was a mystery what he meant with that, lost in daydreams about his blue eyes and the firm handshake) for you to agree.

One contract signing later, and you were officially the babysitter of the sweetest kids you have ever met.

Legolas and Tauriel not only listened to you, but they even cooperated and never caused trouble when it came to bedtime or leaving the park. They naturally reached for your hand on the street, ate their vegetables obediently, and even when you had to be strict on rare occasions, it never took long for the sulking faces to light up again.

It wasn't just the children that you took a liking to.

The initiate awe of meeting Thranduil turned into a full-blown crush faster than you could have blinked; a sentiment you would only ever confide in your diary.

The prospect of explaining how sad it was to fall in love with your remarkably young boss was not inviting, and you would do your best to avoid those conversations.

Falling in love with someone in a position of authority, who paid you for your services monthly, particularly in a role where you cared for his children, was not an ideal situation.

Nevertheless, you found yourself deeply infatuated with – his looks, charm, smile, and the way he effortlessly made you forget all worries when he returned home, embraced by his children, eager to hear every intricate detail of their day.

And yours.

Falling for him had happened quickly, too quickly to really think about how it could affect your job in the case of an outburst of feelings, whether accidental or intentional.

You saw it as a kind of adventure, like diving into a novel where you could experience the feelings of love without ever wanting to address them.

And sometimes, when there was just the two of you left at the dinner table and he would offer you wine and a smile, you had the impression the conversations turned into teasing and flirting.

It was important for you to keep this job, which is why the fear of getting fired for being late today made your legs move, and you managed to cover the usual fifteen-minute relaxed walk despite the piercing cold air in your nose and lungs in seven minutes.

Eight minutes earlier, and still twenty-three minutes late, you arrived at one of the many towering skyscrapers, with glowing cheeks and sweat drops rolling down your temples.

The doorman in the lobby looked at you with an understandable and sympathetic look through his small glasses before letting you enter the elevator and pressing the button for the Oropherion residence.

The minute it took to reach the 53rd floor - 53, seriously, that's an absurd number of floors - you loosened the red scarf around your neck, finally being able to breathe without it feeling like you swallowed ice, and unbuttoned your coat to fish out your phone.

As soon as the screen lit up, all other messages faded away.

Except for one–

Thranduil O.: I write to inform you that...

Dizziness, not from the height you must be at, but from the thoughts of all the stressful evenings when you had called through stores and sent resumes one after another.

You knew how much your boss valued punctuality; he relied on you to arrive at the agreed-upon time so he could leave for work in peace, and today, you had disappointed him.

He was a nice man, friendly but strict in important matters.

You had witnessed more than once how icy he could become when his driver had picked him up late for reasons within his control, and so far, you were glad not to have experienced that side of him.

Was he late today? What if he had an important meeting or had to sign contracts? What if he could pack up the publishing house because of you? (That this was more than unlikely didn't cross your mind at the moment, but much later)

With trembling hands, you tried to unlock your phone before the elevator reached the penthouse, but you failed several times at entering your password, fingers hitting the wrong numbers, which didn't help your agitated mood.

At the same moment, you finally managed to enter your password correctly and access your messages from the lock screen, the loud ping of the elevator startled you.

Quickly, you slipped your phone into your pocket again and prepared for the worst, like bidding farewell to the sweetest children on earth and the best boss, who would easily hire a new sitter.

The doors opened the same moment a piercing scream echoed through the apartment, high in pitch and undoubtedly Tauriel.

"No no no no"

The worst scenario sprung into your mind, the children left alone and hurt, climbing on expensive furniture, and possibly injured, all because your alarm didn't ring.

As fast as your legs could carry you, you ran into the adjacent living area from where the crying had come. "Tauriel?" you called out; the children should know that you were there now and could help.

But the next words died on your tongue, didn't make it over your panicky opened lips.

The image of an injured Tauriel and an apartment thrown into chaos faded with the last bit of breath in your lungs.

Nowhere were traces of such chaos; nothing was out of place, except for the children's toys, like some dolls and Lego pieces scattered on the oakwood floor.

There were no injuries, no tears, and no abandoned children.

There, on the floor in front of the gray couch, was Thranduil, stretched out on the usually neatly arranged sofa cushions, a screaming Tauriel balanced on his raised hands and a laughing Legolas stretched across his stomach, trying to reach for his sister.

You didn't know what happened to your thoughts.

Why they strayed away from the fact that Thranduil was here, at home, while he should be at work, and that this was surely your last day, and instead clung to the happy family image that you had envied for several months now.

Then Thranduil's gaze fell on you, and your heart stumbled over the smile on his face. The children also looked up, joyfully calling your name, and you waved to them, a forced smile on your lips.

You only had one chance to explain, one chance to save this beloved job before it slipped through your fingers. "I'm so sorry for being late, Thranduil," you started, wrapping your arms around yourself for support. "You probably want a proper apology that can explain all this, but as inexcusable as it is, I overslept. The power went out at my place last night, and my phone couldn't charge, so my alarm didn't ring. I'm really really sorry, and I want to make it up."

You took a deep breath. Tears were swelling in the corners of your eyes, threatening to break out every second, and you struggled to blink them away; your apology was pathetic enough without tears.

Thranduil slowly got up, gently placing the confused-looking Tauriel on the small coffee table and took a few steps towards you, causing your concentration to waver for a moment.

Why wasn't he wearing a suit like usual? Normally, he was already dressed for work every morning. Today, however, he wore black straight-cut trousers and a dark blue knit sweater that was covered in gray couch pillow lint.

He spoke your name softly, much too soft for the conversation that would follow.

Now he would fire you; now you could say goodbye to everyone, and from tomorrow on, you would only be able to admire this beautiful face in newspapers.

"I'll make it up to you, but please don't fire me!"

With an expression of pure horror, Thranduil bridged the meters between you and pulled you into a surprising hug, stifling any sob. His hand lovingly patted your back, stroking in circular motions over your shoulder blades.

"Ada, what's wrong?"

"Legolas, Tauriel," he turned his head, one hand cupping your neck, and spoke in a soft voice, "could you please to go your rooms? Give us a minute, alright?"

Immediately, you wanted to pull away; he was your boss, and he shouldn't send his children away just because you were upset about your own mistakes.

Thranduil didn't let go though; he continued to hold you tightly in his strong arms as if the boundary between your roles in this relationship didn't exist.

"What nonsense led you to think I would fire you?" Thranduil asked after a while.

Slowly lowering his arms, he silently allowed your heart a moment to mourn the warmth of his body, a last moment before he stepped back, and you feared you might never be so close to him again.

Instead, he surprised you by reaching for your hand and leading you over to the couch, stepping around the thrown-around cushions on the carpet.

Waiting for you to sit, he joined you, surprisingly close.

"I did write to you that I have a day off today and would love to spend it with all of you," he said, patting your knee and seeking your downward gaze.

Your already reddened cheeks flushed even more. Perhaps you should have checked your messages right after leaving the subway. Then you wouldn't have embarrassed yourself so much in front of Thranduil, a man whose respect meant more to you than anything else, and especially you wouldn't have caused a scene in front of the children.

"Unfortunately, I didn't see that," you admitted, quietly and ashamed.

The man beside you nodded in understanding, his hand still on your leg.

With each touch, a tingling fire spread from that spot through your entire body, to your rapidly beating heart.

He had been doing this more often lately, guiding you with a hand on your back or brushing over your shoulders when helping you with your coat.

Sometimes, the occasional, slightly longer-than-necessary handshake left your knees weak, and even now, his touch burned through the fabric of your pants, as if a sitcom-worthy handprint might be etched there.

"It happens to the best of us," him excluded of this, the man was never late, never forgot, and worst of all, never broke down crying "-please don't fret over this any longer. Everything is alright."

You nodded, sniffling when he stretched to the coffee table and offered you a tissue, handed over with one of his infuriating smiles.

"Thanks," you dabbed the tissue against your cheeks, trying to wipe away the blush and surely ugly puffiness as well as the tears, "I'm still sorry for-" you pointed to your face, "-all this. This probably wasn't how you wanted your day off to start"

Thranduil tilted his head slightly, long blond hair cascading over his shoulder, which he now nudged against yours. "Hey, we have a rule in this house, y'know? No crying unless it's during a movie, book, or when I cooked"

The laugh you let out sounded more like a snort, which is embarrassing in itself though Thranduil only nudged you again in good humor, "So, if you don't want me to punish you for this utterly inexcusable rulebreaking, then you should quickly smile again"

"Oh no!" you exclaimed, wiping away some more tears, before biting down a smile, "I could not handle watching Frozen 2 again this week"

The Oropherion household was most prestigious with Thranduil representing the largest book publishing company in the country, and his two exemplary children, so of course, punishment for any rulebreaking of this kind was a movie night- movie chosen by the youngest (if she wasn't the one breaking the rules).

"Again?" Thranduil raised his eyebrows, then patted your leg condescendingly, "Have I ever told you how strong you are, my dear?"

Ignoring the stutter your heart makes at the nickname and carefully filing the moment away for later, you shook your head, "You have no idea. I had barely picked them up from school yesterday when Tauriel snitched on Legolas for tripping another boy- he did it as an act of self-defense.. well he defended Aragorn but we do not know that if anyone official calls, and then for that Legolas tripped her and so I spend the evening yet again in the company of Olaf and Anna."

As you recount the eventful first day of the week, you could hear and feel Thranduil snicker, his whole body shaking where it pressed against yours- legs, thighs, shoulders.

"Wow, just.. oh my," Thranduil exhaled, and there laid a fondness in his blue eyes, a softness in the corner of his mouth, that washed away the stern businessman, leaving no room for anyone else but a young father, who soaked up every moment of his kid's lives, scared they were growing up too fast.

"Anyway, I shouldn't just sit around and ramble," you crumpled up the tissue in one hand, using the other to brush away some hair.

Conjuring your best smile, the one reserved for him and only him, you linger for one second on the warmth of his body this close to you, before squaring your shoulders. "Soo, thanks for not firing me, I appreciate it and swear that I'll check my phone in the morning to not cause you this much trouble again"

Thranduil's eyebrows twitched, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't staring at him constantly. "I wouldn't have fired you," he said, honest and completely serious; you shrink together, just like the paper tissue. He continues, voice grave and his eyes focused on you, "Not because of something like that, not because of a little thing you are not responsible for. And even if you were, I think we're long past the point where I'd want to fire you, no matter what"

You stare at him, mouth slightly agape, and you want to ask him what he meant by that or if he meant to say it like he did, but no words come out.

Thranduil takes your speechlessness in, his lashes fluttering softly as he closes his eyes, tipping his head to the side. Another barely noticeable change in his demeanor, this time the hint of a smile, that quickly disappears again.

A call from Tauriel shattered the atmosphere between you, and you pulled yourself together.

"Let's just let it go," Thranduil said, this time his mouth curved into a full smirk.

You glare at him, forcing yourself to stand up. "I hate you"

You didn't, but there was no need to add that since the smile and blush on your face gave that away as much as any words would.

Still smirking at you, Thranduil yelled "Yes, Tauriel, you can come back in" and as soon as he finished the two children you loved so dearly rushed into the living room.

While Legolas immediately spilled over the back of the couch like liquid and rolled face first into the small space between his father and the couch, Tauriel nearly toppled over her own feet racing toward you.

She collided with your legs without slowing down.

Unlike Legolas, who was a spitting image of his father with his bright blue eyes and blond hair, Tauriel had inherited her red hair and freckles from her mother, who was only mentioned by Thranduil, if at all, with a dismissive snort, as if it were part of her name.

However, he had every right to do so.

After all, he did rush into the hospital on Christmas-Eve nine years ago, thinking that from then on, Christmas would have the table decked for four, not two, and he left with two children barely a day old and already burdened with a mother who had lost all interest in them.

She had left the hospital when Thranduil had been asleep, his children close to his chest as he grew from boy to single father in one night.

"What are we going to do today?" Tauriel asked, her hands grabbing the coat you still hadn't shed.

"Well, we could go to the park?" you offered and brushed some of her hair out of her face, "Or do you want to let your Ada decide?"

She pulled a face, twisting her lips in an adorable pout. "Noo, then he will go to a museum and they are soo boooring"

Thranduil cleared his throat, looking thoroughly outraged- as well as one could with his other child climbing over his back and tugging his hair. "Tauriel, I thought you loved our trip to the History Museum!"

There was a pause where Tauriel contemplated what to say, before pulling her lips into a smile and swiping her hand at the air: "Oh, yes, Ada, I really love going to the History Museum with you."

Then, turning to you and rolling her eyes in a matter that was surely an imitation of all the adult chit-chat she had caught and not even close to the behavior of a nine-year-old, she faux-whispered: "Don't fall for my tricks, I just don't want to see him sad"

You weren't even close to fast enough to cover the laugh that bubbled out of your throat with a cough.

"She just goes there because there is a boy in our class that she wants to impress," Legolas piped up, his feet dangling over Thranduil's shoulders while his blonde hair was sticking to his father's back.

"Not true!" Tauriel snapped back.

"SO true, she looooves-"

"Do not!"

"Yes, you do!"

"NO, I do not!"

"You-"

"HEY!" you cut into the back and forth that surely would have ended in punches or more tears, "If anyone says anything there will be no trip to the park, the museum or to wherever you want to go today!"

You fixated the twins with a warning stare that left no room for discussion and it even seemed to shut up Thranduil, who had opened his mouth and now, slowly and looking at you, closed it again.

"Thank you," you crossed your arms in front of your chest, "Now, I don't see beaks or feathers on the both of you so I'll ask you to refrain from squawking and cackling, and Legolas if you want to tease your sister about a boy, should I tell her about-"

"NO!" the boy screamed and immediately, realizing his mistake of speaking out of turn, clapped both hands in front of his mouth, leaving his blue eyes to plead.

Not that you would have said anything; whether it was Aragorn or that boy, Kili, you would never dare to spill the secrets that they whispered to you when you tugged them in.

You nodded once.

It was enough for the boy to relax, slipping onto the couch bare of cushions, and curling his arms around his father's neck.

It was an endearing, yet very exhausting trait of the boy to be unable to stop moving, always climbing things, restlessly skipping around when he was supposed to do his homework.

"Go and put on your boots, coats, and yes- Legolas, even your scarf and hat, and no- Tauriel, you did not forget them in school, I picked them up yesterday and put them into your bag"

There was not much grumbling, well, Tauriel muttered something close to a curse under her breath but at your sharp gaze, she opened her mouth in such a wide smile, baring two rows of teeth, that it looked strained, and Legolas made his protest clear in changing in and out of at least five sweaters before settling on one the same ink-blue as his fathers.

Said father continued to stifle his laughter while you stood in the hallway, waiting until the coat rack was nearly empty and the children had their coats zipped up, their boots tied, their necks covered in scarfs and two pairs of hands had gloves dangling from them.

Said father also came up behind you, when the twins were busy forming plans on what this day would come to, maybe an adventure in the park, or a walk through the aquarium, and you felt his hands brush over your shoulders, as he leaned to whisper in your ear and cause shivers to prickle down your spine despite the warm clothes:

"What a shame that I miss you this assertive most of the time, it looks good on you"

He must have heard the gulp of your throat, must have felt the buckling of your knees, but alas, he said nothing more and the moment passed as quickly as it had come.

It was what he was good at, swiping you off your feet with comments like this and touches like that, leaving you dazed and wondering if you had imagined it all or if that twinkle in his eyes truly was as flirtatious as you thought it to be.

"Okay so, shall we go?"

You caught Thranduil's smirk as he grabbed his coat as well.

His hands were quick to fasten the shiny buttons, working their way up from the bottom in seconds, and as he pulled his long hair out to toss it over his shoulders, the elegant length of his fair neck flashed into view.

Frozen in place, your gaze lingered on the curve of his cheekbones, the pointed ears, and quickly you looked away before he turned his attention from Legolas back to you and might have caught you staring.

It was truly unfair how beautiful he was, wearing the fitted coat, snug at his small waist and highlighting the broad of his shoulders, the midnight blue color being the perfect color for his blonde hair to look like starlight and sunshine all at once.

He drew looks onto him wherever he went and not because of his wealth or business– those were things New Yorkers didn't care about if he passed them on the streets.

He was simply breathtaking, and that he had a daughter skipping over puddles reflecting the clear blue sky and a son babbling while he listened and laughed and answered was more of a magnet than he maybe realized.

In fact, he never seemed to notice the heads turning, the heart eyes that mothers and young women watched him with, and the appreciating nods of handsome men. The ogling and giggling, the sighs and gasps, murmurs and whispers.

Not from strangers but certainly he had the talent to catch the slighted exhale of breath from you whenever you lost yourself in his elegant figure, watching and dreaming as he played with his children or washed the dishes, his back turned to you to examine his muscles straining against the stretch of his shirt.

He teased you for it, lips curving into smiles, eyebrows raising in a wiggle, arms lifting to reveal a sliver of toned stomach.

Even now, as you crossed the street to enter Central Park, the constant pull of Legolas on your right arm left you to slightly tumble into Thranduil, shoulders knocking against shoulder and you glanced up at him to apologize only to find a smirk already tugging on the left corner of his mouth.

The air is still quite chilly, leaving you to lift your nose in the direction of the February sun, albeit a long way from warming you up, it was enough to ease on the frost nipping at your skin.

The children were tugging you into the direction of their favorite playground, hats bouncing at the excited steps that were nearly too fast to hold them back, boots stomping as they made a game of pulling you.

Their happiness was brighter than any sommer light, the teasing from the apartment long forgotten as the roads curved and dew-kissed gras made way for sand and rubber flooring.

They stormed off as soon as Thranduil and you let go of them, scrambling away to conquer the climbing towers and slides and most assuredly end up befriending some if not all of the other kids that are playing under the watchful eyes of parents sitting on the many benches scattered around the place.

Thranduil and you settled onto a weathered bench, positioned directly beneath a skeletal tree that, in a matter of weeks, would burst into bloom, but for now, stood adorned only with bare branches reaching towards the heavens.

Thranduil folded his hands in his lap, starting by delicately pinching at the fingertips of one glove.

With graceful precision, he slipped his slender hand out, exposing his milky skin to the chill, repeating the process with agonizing slowness on the other hand.

The ritual held your undivided attention, captivating you as you watched those slender hands gradually unfasten the first button of his coat.

As if that weren't bad enough, he proceeded to loosen the red scarf wrapped around his neck, a vibrant contrast against the wintry backdrop.

Your mouth felt almost devoid of moisture as you struggled to comprehend.

Huddled deeper into the folds of your own coat, you shot him a reproachful glance. "I don't get how you aren't cold," you muttered, your words punctuated by a shiver.

He made a show of popping another button of his coat. "Tze, how could anyone be cold in this weather?" Thranduil angled his face toward the sun, "I dare say that this is the perfect weather for a long walk"

You scoffed, "Oh, here we go again. I can't wait for you to open up the window later and tell me that the winds are just a slight breeze. It's unfair, you know? Some of us freeze just by looking at you carelessly throwing that scarf away"

Thranduils squinted his eyes, seemingly contemplating whatever was going on his beautiful head and before you could say anything else he had raised his arms and wrapped the scarf around the smaller one you already wore.

Your mouth fell open in surprise, the blood rushing into your cheeks as he busied himself tugging here and there and then had the gall to pull so that you had your mouth full of scarf.

It not only smelled like his perfume but tasted like it as well.

"There, now you are best equipped for this blizzard-like cold!" he chuckled and when you tried to pull the scarf away, he held one of the ends so that it slipped to cover your ears. "Oops, my fault-"

"Thranduil!" was what you wanted to say though the fabric made it sound more like "Franfuil" which made him only laugh louder. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the amusement showing itself in their baby blues.

Thinking that he maybe just did it for a joke, you wanted to free yourself from it.

His cold hands coming to rest upon yours with his long slender fingers covering yours, halted the movement.

"I can't wear your scarf," you said meekly and made another attempt though with not much force.

You wanted to wear his scarf, wanted to sit on this bench with all the other parents passing you and seeing his claim, his scarf wrapped around your neck, but this was another dream, not something that really happened.

He was just joking, wasn't he?

"Tze," Thranduil swatted at the air and clicked his tongue. "Why not? You said it yourself, you are freezing because of me. Let me offer you some warmth and don't tell me this scarf isn't wondrous. The wool is from irish sheeps-"

He continued talking, and you sunk back into the bench, nose buried into the fabric that carried his scent.

The scarf did help, although it wasn't just because of the added expensive layer but because of the hands that had wrapped it as well.

"and thus this scarf is the best way to keep your poor freezing body self. Imagine what the kids would say if they came back and you sat here like an iceberg. We would have to bring hammers to break you out of it," he finished with a satisfied nod to himself and folded on leg over the other, clasping his hands on top of the raised knee. "Now, no more complaining, do we understand each other?"

You nodded obediently.

Thranduil took it in, making sure that you didn't talked back to him, then he turned toward the playground.

You followed his gaze to Legolas and Tauriel hanging on the monkey bars and swinging back and forth.

"Mhm," he hummed and a smirk pulled on his lips, "I really want to say that the cold never bothered me anyway"

At your pained groan, he just laughed joyfully.

Inside your chest, your heart stuttered against your ribcage.

"I can say that this is far better than sitting in the office," Thranduil mused after a while, eyes wandering from his children to you.

He really did look much happier, the cold giving him a healthy blush that reached all the way down his slender throat.

Not that you stared at his Adam's apple and the soft rosé of his skin– your eyes were just drawn to the red lint his scarf had left on his collar.

You tried to lift an eyebrow like he always did but failed miserably. "What? And here I figured that playing all day was only half as much fun as making sure my suit didn't get wrinkled from all the sitting around."

Thranduil scoffed, not in anger but in humor. "I will let you know that I'm not bound to the desk and will walk to get some coffee now and again"

"Oh how adventurous," you teased, nudging your elbow into his side, "Do tell, whatever do they do with this wild man of a boss?"

He laughed at that, and you had to bury your teeth in your lip to stop yourself from smiling like a fool.

"Sometimes they take away my pen and force me to listen to whatever offer is going on instead of letting me play tic-tac-toe"

"That's so unfair," you shook your head, the smile now breaking out despite the best effort to retain it, "Maybe I should talk to them because last time I saw your notes you lost every time. Like you are so bad! They should let you practice more"

"You cheeky-" Thranduil stopped himself, the chortling laughter made it impossible to understand anything he would have said anyway.

After a while the laughter subsided, leaving a comfortable silence that you sunk into, letting the whole moment wash over you.

There was laughter all around you, children screaming and yelling, Tauriel and Legolas swinging on the monkey bars as the cold colored their faces nearly as red as the girl's hair.

Somewhere in the distance, the music of the carousel waved over, the melody familiar by now and you dared to tilt your head just enough to the side, to make it look like your gaze was trailing over to the wooden tent instead of trailing the curve of Thranduil's nose, the long lashes resting on his cheek as he bathes in the sun.

As if he felt your eyes on him, he hummed. "Maybe I should cut my hours short," Thranduil's voice was low, but there was a firmness behind the words, a determination that told you he had thought about this longer than his statement let on.

Your heart jumped in your chest.

Grateful that his eyes were still closed so that he couldn't see the shock that played your features, you inhaled deeply, needing the sting of the air in your lungs.

"Oh," you whispered, wanting to follow up with something encouraging but the words just wouldn't come to you.

"Oh," you simply repeated.

The chill of winter settled deep into your bones and you hunched your shoulders, the meaning of his words cutting sharp into the string of affection that you thought connected the two of you.

If he worked less than that meant he wouldn't come home late in the evening, maybe even early enough to pick up his children from school, giving him time to cook for them, go to the playground, and accompany them to Legolas archery lessons and Tauriels dance classes.

If he had all the time do to this, then it would be more than reasonable to let you go.

"Mhm–" Thranduil hummed again, eyes still shut. "The firm doesn't need my input, they can do their best without me hovering around as if I was not just there to listen in to negotiations. This is what I should have done ages ago, direct my attention to the kids instead of book deals that only need my signature."

You nodded, ignoring that he couldn't see it.

"We should get away, the kids haven't had a vacation in forever. I own a house near Greenwood, and the last time I was there there had been a village close enough for the children to make some friends. It would be good for them, don't you think?"

"Yeah– sure," you swallowed hard, trying to force down the stone lodged in your throat.

There, on the tip of your tongue, was a plea, the urge to beg him not to fire you but you would rather let him continue to talk than embarrass yourself again.

"There was a house close by, a family with another single dad and his three kids. If I remember correctly the youngest had been Tauriel and Legolas' age, they could show them around, and Legolas can finally have that damn treehouse he always asks for," Thranduil chuckled and stretched out his legs, the tips of his shoes pointing to the sky, "He asks for one every birthday and I think if he asks me one more time I will find a way to build him that treehouse, even if that means buying a damn tree here in Central Park."

You let out a humorless laugh, more an exhale of air than anything else.

The images Thranduil painted would have been lovely if not for the pain growing inside your chest at every word.

"And we could take a walk through the woods, just you and me."

"What?"

Thranduil's eyes snapped open, blue eyes piercing you like the brightness of the sun over your heads.

For the first time, you saw confusion in them, unsureness, and doubt, and you must have looked just as baffled.

"A walk, to talk, you know? Without the kids sleeping in the other room, without their nosy ears hearing things they shouldn't?" His eyes widened, suddenly he seemed very much uncomfortable with how slouched he sat for he straightened up, "Oh my," he lifted a hand to run it through his hair, tousling it even more, "Oh no, have I overstepped?"

Your gaze remained fixed on him. "You want me to accompany you on this vacation to the woods to 'talk'? Damn, Thranduil, I thought you were on the verge of letting me go!"

"Let you go?!" His cheeks flushed crimson within seconds, a vivid contrast against his fair complexion.

There was an unfamiliarity to the flush, something so new and alien about it that, despite the gravity of the situation, you found yourself momentarily speechless, captivated more by the sight than the words spoken.

"I thought that we could come to an agreement about the arrangements of your employment status"

"My status?"

Nothing that was said made sense, for either one of you, and the comfort grew into frustration that made it impossible to sit still.

"Yes! Were we not on the same page?" Thranduil's voice got louder and you both flinched as a mother with her stroller walked past and threw you an annoyed look. Thranduil leaned closer, dropping into something close to a whisper: "I wanted to ask you out for like a month now, but it felt awkward since it would have required giving you the evening off or compensating you. Neither option seemed like the ideal foundation for a date, in my opinion," he pressed out between his teeth, tipping his head to the side.

"A date?" you felt stupid for parroting his words- again, but how could you not? This conversation had dragged out for far too long to be your imagination, yet you wouldn't believe that this was happening.

"Yes," he was laughing now, kind of desperate if you were honest.

The touch of his knees against yours became a hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hand toward him so that he could lay it onto his open palm.

There were sparkles in your stomach, exploding like fireworks at the soft touch of his skin, warmed from the gloves he had worn on the walk.

"I am mad about you, haven't you realized? Have you any idea how I have to hold myself back whenever I come home and see you on the couch with my children, reading stories or singing movies, dancing around the living room in costumes?"

(You blushed deeply at the memory of that evening, Tauriel had convinced you that her fairy wings would fit you better than her, the pink glitter sticking to your clothes as you twirled around the room just when the elevator doors opened and Thranduil stood in the doorway; his tired and exhausted eyes lightening up at the sight of his daughter- or so you thought)

He continued, staring at your hands as he drew circles with the tip of his fingers. "Leaving for work is only easy because you are there to send me off, and working is only durable because I know that when the doors to the apartment open you will be there. It gets harder though, every time I see you cuddling with Legolas or drawing with Tauriel I have to refrain myself-" he stopped to look up, a coy smile on his lips that were suddenly much harder to ignore in their closeness and allure.

"Else, I'd find myself sinking to my knees before you on the couch, bestowing kisses for 'Hello', 'Goodbye', or simply surrendering to the emotions that have stirred within me since the day you entered my life."

"Well, I can tell you no other boss has greeted me like that," you murmured quietly, uncertain of how else to react.

His fingers continued their subtle dance, now entwined with yours. They melded together seamlessly, like a perfect puzzle, as if their natural state had always been intertwined.

Thranduil chuckled softly, his index finger tapping against his knuckle. "One of the reasons I never acted upon it," he admitted, "was the fear of you dialing the Department of Labor for harassment."

"A kiss wouldn't lead to that," you bit down on your lip again, "Fainting on my side, yes, absolutely, and I have never seen a fainted person make a phone call. And what would I say? Hello, my gorgeous boss, who I have a crush on kissed me? Oh, sad old me. could you maybe find a way to compensate me for something I have dreamed about?"

The moment you said what you said, the words slipped out your mouth faster than you could hold them back and loud enough that you could have pretended that you had mumbled something else.

The shock of Thranduil's admission had opened the pandora box of feelings that you had shoved under terms like 'work ethic' and 'inappropriate salivating over your superior' as if that would make it any easier.

"So we are on the same page," Thranduil smiled, his chest heaved in a relief exhale of air. "I'm glad.. oh, so glad. I would have perished if I had been wrong and all those times I asked you to eat with me you thought 'Great, now I have to spend time with him as well.' That would have been... well, rather disheartening."

You choked on another laugh, "No, no, I never thought something even close to that. Most of the time, I was occupied trying not to scream in excitement while figuring out how I could get rid of the glitter or marker on my arms."

He laughed, but his eyes were honest and he held your hand a little bit tighter, "You must know that you are beautiful in every way, especially covered in feathers and gemstones, couch lint, and flour." His head dropped then, his eyes falling to your lips as he took in your smile and the way you struggled to find words.

"I wish I could kiss you right now," he said instead and the regret was audible in his low voice, "But we should figure everything out before I do."

You understood his point, it would be irresponsible to make out - which a kiss would definitely lead to, after all, you were bursting at the seams just thinking about how his lips would taste.

There were the kids, for once, you couldn't know how they would react at seeing the nanny kiss their father without being spoken to first and then, there was the whole thing of him being your boss.

Instead of kissing him, you just nodded. "Of course. Mister Oropherion, I hereby tell you that I plan to resign. It was lovely working for you but this is not where I see myself in a few years."

His face had morphed into the professional that you had met all those months ago in that little restaurant, older yet not by much, less exhausted and happiness in those blue eyes of his that you would spend hours staring into.

Your last name still sounded unfamiliar on his tongue, you had instantly offered your first name for him to use- an order he gladly followed, the only exception being the nicknames you doted on.

"I'll make sure to have the papers ready in the afternoon," Thranduil said in a matter of business, "And there will be a bottle of wine, perhaps? To celebrate?"

You glanced around, making sure that no one was watching before lifting your hands and breathing a soft kiss onto his fingers, relishing the first taste of him.

"I would very much like that"

"Ada!" came the sudden yell of Legolas, and in the blink of an eye the boy ran toward you, coming out of nowhere and the rest of the sentence, whatever Thranduil had wanted to say, never crossed his lips that now spread into a wide smile at the sight of his son.

"Ada, you have to push us on the swings!"

Legolas jumped in front of you, fisting his gloves into your coat and pulling your attention onto him, cheeks all flushed red and blonde hair standing to all sides- he seemed to have lost his hat.

"You can push me and Ada can push Tauriel, and then can we go eat ice cream? There was a boy that said that his mom would buy him ice cream and let him ride the carousel, and–"

Thranduil laughed and raised a hand to smooth down the flyaway strands of hair. "Alright, alright, Las. Lead the way"

The boy immediately turned, tugging you with him at the seam of your coat into the direction of the pair of swings where his sister already waited, her hat lost in the sand as well.

That would be a problem for later, for now, you just followed Legolas and turned your head to see Thranduil catching up to you.

His hand brushed yours as he passed you, his legs much longer than yours and his coat free from the impatient drag of a child.

"Race you!"

There was more laughter echoing over the playground as you and Legolas chased after his father, their blonde hair flying in the wind, sand slipping into your boots, and the red scarf around your neck fluttering.

Later, when the children were asleep in their bed, tugged under their blankets, and exhausted from the day, Thranduil would bring out your contract, ready for your signature of resignation.

He would wait until you sign next to him, the pen just barely lifted from the paper before his lips would capture yours in a soft kiss; his hands resting on your waist as you fall on top of him on the couch.

There would be wine and kisses just as sweet, quiet laughter as to not wake the children, hushed giggles when you would follow him to his bedroom, his hand in yours.

Right now though, you swept up Legolas into your arms and dashed through the sand.

#thranduil x reader #lotr x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfiction #king thranduil #thranduil

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monbons · 1 month

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Stitch Sunday

I've been back at work for a week and am already exhausted. The beginning of the year is always brutal (this one more so because I am training a new teaching partner), so time for anything outside of school is hard to come by. BUT! I was determined to finish BunBaz, so may I present ...

No Trauma Bun Baz!

Ready for the fall season, this bun is rocking his favorite sleeveless tee in the pumpkin patch. He was sipping on a pumpkin mocha breve earlier, but the photographer didn't capture the moment. He might play some pick up footie later, although Uggs aren't the best footwear...

After a long day of taking perfectly posed pictures for his Holiday cards, BunBaz heads home and is ready for bed. He loves his striped and collared PJs (only the best for this bun!) and his Paddington keeps him company all night long.

In all seriousness, I had a blast making this bun for the lovely @bookish-bogwitch. (If you missed my earlier post about him, he speaks!) I made the witchy tee based on inspiration pics Em sent over. All other clothing and accessories are American Girl Doll cast-offs, either repurposed or tailored to fit.

In other doll factory news, Rainbow posted the SnowBaz worry dolls I gifted her at the Slow Dance signing (last slide). I know the real artists in this fandom get reblogged and reposted all the time, but this literally made me cry when I saw it! Especially because these little guys were the first set of dolls I ever made in early-May. It blows my mind how far I've come in just a few months.

I hope to keep getting better and tackling more complex projects in the months to come. This fall alone I will be keeping busy with a possible COTTA collaboration with the amazing @iamamythologicalcreature. The idea, if it pans out, is super cool! I also submitted a doll concept for CORB and am excited for whoever my fic partner happens to be!

On that fandom high note, I am bidding you all temporary farewell since I plan to disappear through mid-September at least. Students can smell weakness, so I'm going to devote my time to planning kick-ass lessons and breaking 15-year-old spirits. Please keep tagging me so that I remember I once had a life.

Until next we meet, hellos and high-fives from the doll factory. 💖

@thewholelemon, @emeryhall, @raenestee, @roomwithanopenfire, @cutestkilla

@artsyunderstudy, @aristocratic-otter, @arthurkko, @best--dress, @brilla-brilla-estrellita

@rimeswithpurple, @run-for-chamo-miles, @supercutedinosaurs, @whatevertheweather, @mooncello

@shrekgogurt, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @talentpiper11, @larkral

@beastmonstertitan, @drowninginships, @valeffelees, @noblecorgi, @rbkzz

@thehoneyedhufflepuff, @messofthejess, @orange-peony, @blackberrysummerblog, @letraspal

@facewithoutheart, @ic3-que3n, @skeedelvee, @fiend-for-culture, @hushed-chorus

@martsonmars, @katatsumuli, @comesitintheclover, @stitchyqueer, @alexalexinii

@erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @ileadacharmedlife, @theimpossibledemon

#no trauma bunBaz #my mother stared aghast as I defiled very expensive american girl doll clothing #she reminded me she paid good money for it once upon a time #very excited to collaborate for COTTA and CORB!#doll factory updates may pause for a bit but we are still open for business over here #stitch sunday

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 4 months

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SORRY - Chapter 5

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

“Here are your winners and the new WWE undisputed tag team champions! Jimmy and Jey, THE USOS!” Dominique spoke into the mic, with a smile on her face. The smile quickly dropped from her face as Jon stormed over to her and pulled her with him, out of the time keeper's area and into the crowd towards the backstage area.

“Jon.. What are you doing?” She asked as she stumbled after him, trying to keep up with his long strides. She was confused, because he was definitely going off script. He was supposed to be out there attacking Randy and Riddle with his brother and cousin.

Jon didn't respond, his jaw clenched as he continued to pull her along. “Hey, what the fuck!” She yelled at him when he pushed her into The Bloodline’s empty locker room, causing her to stumble in her heels. “What is your problem!?"

“You fucking Randy?! Huh! Is that why you won’t forgive me!” Dominique snorted and crossed her arms over her chest.

“And what if I am? You were definitely gonna fuck that girl last night , oh and don’t get me started on the fact that you spent the night with Trinity.”

“Don’t fuckin’ play with me Dominque.” He gruffed out as he stalked towards her, backing her into the wall.

“Ain't nobody playin’ with you. If you can do it, so can I.” She shrugged, not backing down as she stared into his eyes. Jon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew she was testing his patience and it was working. Jon opened his eyes, his jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his composure.

“Imma ask you one last time.” He muttered as he opened his eyes to look at her. “Are you fuckin’ Orton?"

Dominique rolled her eyes. “No, I'm not like you Jon, I would never cheat on the person I love.” Jon's expression darkened at Dominique's response. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Jon sucked his teeth just as Joe and Josh walked through the doors. Jon ignored them though, keeping his glare on Dominique. “Stop with that bullshit Dominique. I aint cheat on you and I never will.”

“What bullshit Jonathan?!” She yelled. “I have caught you up in TWO bitches faces and you got the nerve to be acting like this because what? Randy was comforting me!”

“He don’t need to comfort you Dom! Thats my fuckin’ job!” Josh decided to step in between them.

“Aye, y’all chill out.” He said placing his hand on Jon’s chest, pushing him back from Dominique.

“I’m chill.” Dominique said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s him, he needs to chill.” Joe snorted, then held his hands up defensively as she turned her glare to him.

“Y’all are perfect for eachother,” He muttered as he walked into the bathroom to take a shower.

“We been together for four fucking years and I’ve never even thought about another woman. I fuck up one time and you won’t let it go. I’m sorry Dominique” He stressed, trying to grab her hands but she swatted him away. Josh shook his head at them and walked out the room to call his wife, he was happy as hell he wasn’t Jon right now.

“Jonathan, it’s not just one tiny little fuck up. You let that woman into your space. You let her think that she actually had a chance with you.” Dominique tried to stop her tears from falling, but she was hurt and angry and looking at his face wasn’t making her feel any better. “And then, you spent the night with your ex? You didn’t come to me, you didn’t try to talk to me, you went to her and I'm supposed to just forgive you?”

Jon stood there frozen as he watched the tears fall down her face, his heart heavy with the weight of Dominique’s pain that he caused. This was the second time in the four years they had been together that he had made her cry; the first being when he proposed in Paris.

“If I can take it all back I would Dominique.” Dominique sniffled and wiped her tears away.

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” She muttered as Joe walked out the bathroom. “We have a flight to catch, are y’all ready?” Without waiting for a response she walked out of the locker room and towards the writers room to grab her bags.

Jon watched her walk away as a feeling of hopelessness washed over him. Their relationship was hanging on by a thread and he feared that with every passing moment, that thread was growing thinner and thinner. But he also knew that he couldn't force Dominique to forgive him, couldn't demand her love in return for his apologies.

“Sis, you okay?” Josh asked her as she walked past him.

“No,” She shrugged, sending him a soft smile. “But I will be.”

“I know Jon’s my twin, but I'm here for you, aight?” She nodded.

“Thank you Josh.”

Back in the locker room Jon groaned and plopped down on the steel chair. “You know I don’t like to get in y’all relationship business.” Joe started, walking closer to his cousin. “But Dominique is the one for you. I mean after you broke up with Trinity and brought Dom around, everyone and I mean everyone was skeptical about y’all relationship. But shit the whole family loves her now. Y’all gotta fix this,”

"I know, Joe," Jonathan admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "I messed up, big time. I don't know how to fix things with her."

Joe placed a reassuring hand on Jonathan's shoulder, offering him a sympathetic smile. "You just gotta show her, man.”

“Hey” Ishana said as Dom walked in. “You look rough.” Dominique rolled her eyes.

“I feel rough.” She muttered, walking over and grabbing her luggage.

“Jon again huh?” Dom nodded and let out a sigh. “So y’all still beefing?”

“Yes, he seems to think that he can just say sorry and everything will go back to normal.”

“Have you expressed how you feel though? About the whole situation, why you don’t wanna get married?” Dominique sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Ishana, I don't wanna talk about my problems with Jon right now.”

Ishana ignored her, “Communication is key, Dom. he’s taking accountability and you need to too.” Dom scoffed but Ishana held her hand up to silence her. “Okay I get it the girl kissed him and yes, he went to Trinity this morning but to be honest you were looking for a way out of the engagement anyway.” Dominique's eyes widened. Ishana's words hung in the air, heavy with truth and accusation. Dominique felt a mix of shock and anger rising within her, her mind racing to process what she had just heard.

“You’re joking right? Now is not the time to be funny.” Dominique said glaring at Ishana. “No, I wasn’t tryna find a way out of my engagement. I wanted to get married to Jon, just not right away.”

Ishana rolled her eyes.

“Bullshit. Ever since yall got engaged you’ve been picking fights with him and as your best friend it’s time I spoke up and told you about yourself. Yes he fucked up by letting that girl into his personal space but he’s been trying to talk to you, trying to apologize to you but you blocked him, how can he make things right if you’re closing off all communication with him?"

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Ishana shook her head, not believing how stubborn her best friend was being. “There is no sides, Dom. I want you and Jon to be happy. And in order for that to happen, you need to grow up. Not all marriages end in divorce.” Ishana said, grabbing her pocket book and walking out the room. Dominique stared at the closed door in shock. What the fuck was that?!

Heyyyy... long time no see 😭🫣

I was having second thoughts about this story but talking to @paigereeder i got a second wind and was able to finish this chapter!

Hopefully you guys won't have to wait as long for the next chapter.

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

🏷️: @empressdede @abadbitchblogs @wrestlingprincess80 @harmshake @cyberdejos2

@almondmilkdeinker11 @girlwhogaf @alyyaanna @paigereeder @amandairene88

@skyesthebomb @yana3sworld @mindairy @hllokttysoprtty @christinabae

@tbmotw @rantfandombloggg @jeyusosgirl @southerngirl41 @wooahmiri

@theninthwonder @saintaquarius @raya-hunter01 @rebelrel0987 @feelinuceyy

@qveenmikaelson @black-yn @mzv11 @shantinextdoor @sheydnni

@zillasvilla @thatone-girly @xmonetsworld @li-da-savage @kill-the-artiste

@reci1996 @that-one-anxious-mango @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @trashbin-nie @adoreesun

@meggylynnloves @shayaaaaaaa

@tableofthehead @lovelyhunnys @wwelovergirl @meannaim

#wwe #jimmy uso imagine #jimmy uso fanfiction #jimmy uso #jimmy uso x fem reader #jimmy uso x black reader #jimmy uso x you #jimmy uso x oc #jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso fic #wwe fanfiction #wwe x black reader #wwe x fem reader #wwe x reader #wwe fic #wwe x black oc #x black reader

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etsuven · 2 years

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rating: sm-t cw: none i don't think!! includes: current anemo men as of the end of 3.2 (venti, kazuha, heizou, scaramouche, xiao) modern au, reader is pretty and i'm saying pretty because i think it's gender neutral everyone should be allowed to be called pretty summary: let's rank the anemo men as least to most brattiest subs <3 (also them as lovers!)

note: lets rank the men of my favorite element, anemo!!!!!! we're not reallyy ranking them as bf's only as subs- but uh this is just a small headcannon thing to pass the time between my writing!!! should i do these more often?? maybe you guys should give me headcannon asks (???) idk how to explain it, but i just want to have them as something to schedule or whatever- anyways, feel free to reply with your opinions!! (repost AGAIN bc my last post didn't show up in any tags <3)

xiao

in my opinion, xiao is probably such a sweet boyfriend! even though he's not the best when it comes to talking to people, he always has you there to help him <3 (unless you're also quiet, then he'll be the one to talk for you.) he's not shy, he just doesn't like talking to people.

your innocent kisses on his cheeks and lips get him so flustered sometimes, and even though he's embarrassed by how you ended up catching him off guard so easily, the cute smile on your face makes up for it.

now, i feel that xiao is probably the sweetest sub. much like his in public self, he's not very loud- but that's only because he's hiding his moans. it works for a little bit, but every time you fuck, you end up touching that one spot that makes him moan louder than his hand can hide.

after that, he's unable to hide his noises anymore. instead- he opts for clutching the sheets next to his head or hips. his moans are breathy, with the occasional gasp or groan into the air.

he prefers receiving oral more than giving, but only because he likes how you can so easily reduce him to gasps and almost tears. (also he loves the look you give him from in between his legs)

i feel like he'd like it if you held his hand while fucking him- like he thinks it's intimate and it allows him to feel closer to you (well, he probably can't get closer than literally being inside him/you being inside him, but that's besides the point)

all in all, very sweet, not a brat at all!

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kazuha

kazuha my love my only limited 5 star besides the traveler who's higher than C0.... he's definitely a wonderful boyfriend. he's very kind, sweet, and he has a way with words that make you fall harder for him every time he says them.

he likes to give you sneaky kisses just to watch you jump in shock, and he's definitely the type to be like, "i'm sorry, love, but you were too pretty, i couldn't help it!"

kazuha is also a very sweet sub, and he wants to please you! you wanna touch him until he's on the verge of tears? go ahead! do you want him to sit in between your legs and make you cum as many times as you'd like? well, that's actually his favorite thing to do!

this pretty red clothed man LOVES to please you. in his eyes, he doesn't get to cum until you do. he's very good with his mouth and tongue, and it often leads to some situations where you're a little too distracted to continue your work. after all, how could you focus when there was a gorgeous man with furrowed brows and a flushed face sitting in between your legs?

when you finally get to touching him, you'll find that he has quite pretty moans. they're a bit more on the groany side, but they turn onto full on moans when he really gets into it. he doesn't hide his noises, in fact- he prefers that you hear just how good you were making him feel. you've almost gotten caught many times because of that...

he definitely likes it when you pull his hair. although he makes sure his hair is tied up perfectly when he's in between your legs, a ton of strands will always find their way outside of the previously neat ponytail thanks to your wandering hands... perhaps he should keep his hair down while like that? only to keep it from getting more messy- and definitely not to give you more to pull.

summary: he's very sweet, very attentive. if you'd like, get yourself a lover like him!

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venti

i feel that venti would be a wonderful boyfriend! contrary to popular belief, he isn't the type to date you only to abandon you in the name of freedom. he knows exactly how to cheer you up when you're feeling down, and he knows when to leave you alone when you need space.

he's very energetic, often times chatting your ear off when it comes to something he likes. he also loves giving you random things he finds in stores that remind him of you. you like a certain show? i can guarantee that he will buy a cute little keychain for you and give it to you when you're least expecting it.

if you're the more quiet type, he will gladly speak up for you. he wants you to feel as comfortable as possible.

now i feel that he's lowkey a tease in bed. he likes to leave lingering kisses on your skin just to get you worked up, and when you ask what he's doing, he'll pretend to be oblivious and walk away.

he wants you to throw him down, and the quickest way to get you to do that is to tease you until you can't handle it anymore. light teasing is all he does, as he doesn't want to accidentally annoy you and ruin the mood.

he has THE prettiest moans, kind of high and breathy, and he gets a bit choked up when you touch a particularly sensitive spot. he's also not the type to hide them, but he will do so if you request.

he loves it when you grab him by his hips as a way to keep yourself steady. you always manage to fuck him even harder when your hands are grasping his hips, something he very much enjoys when he just doesn't want to think anymore.

summary? very much a tease, but he knows how to tone it down when he needs to!

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scaramouche/wanderer

SCARAAA!!! thanks for you and your weapon but do you mind coming home one more time, i need you at c1- i don’t know what to call him here, but i’ll just stick with scara for now.

anyways, scara is such a good boyfriend he’s so sweet but it’s like backhanded sweet. like ‘i won’t admit that i really like you and i really want to kiss you but that’s embarrassing to admit so i’ll stay quiet until you do it first’ kind of sweet.

we all know from one of scara’s idle lines that he’s not afraid to speak up. he’s literally like “you didn’t like that? well that’s your problem.” so i feel like he would totally stand up for you if someone were treating you badly. but like he would insult them and leave them questioning if it was really worth messing with you.

he hasn’t experienced many romantic things in his life, as most people were too scared to even go up to him. so when you came along and absolutely turned everything around from how affectionate you were, he was quite shocked.

despite being bold and unafraid of consequences in his usual life, he’s quite shy when it comes to romance. holding hands gets him all embarrassed, the way you look at him like the answer to the life itself is right in front of you makes him so flustered. i can only imagine how he’d be like if you kissed him!

he’d be such an adorable sub, i can already feel it! he’s still a bit of a brat, thanks to remnants of his old personality being retained, he’ll talk back to you, but only because he’s flustered, and he feels that he doesn’t deserve to be touched in such a loving way.

he’ll try to egg you on, little things like “i bet i could do so and so better,” just to have you treat him a little bit harsher. he’s not glass, so don’t treat him so gently! he wants you to turn his mind into mush, he wants you to please him until forgets everything he did that day.

he loves it when you’re able to fuck him until he’s on the verge of passing out. he has quite a bit of stamina- due to not being human and all, so he’s able to go on for a while. he enjoys the feeling of everything building up until it eventually bursts, it’s overwhelming and he can’t help but get addicted to it. waking up to see you tending to him is just a bonus.

but there are times where he’ll be a bit vulnerable, and those are the times where you can be a bit more gentle with him. he won’t talk back, he’ll just embrace you and let you praise him for how good he’s being.

summaryyyyy: he’s a bit of a brat, but at the same time- not really. he’ll talk back, but at the same time he wants to be a good boy for you. it really just depends on what scara you get that day!

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heizou

pretty boy heizou <3 i have him but i don’t really read much on his personality and stuff, so i’m writing this based off of what i saw in his hangout quest.

he’s very much the flirty type of lover, always knowing what to say at certain times to get you all flustered. while he’s an expert at flirting at you, he gets quite embarrassed when you do the same to him.

forehead and back of the hand kisses are his fave, as they’re simple and sweet. though he isn’t opposed to a quick peck on the lips when you’re least expecting it.

as a detective, he is naturally attuned to your needs, knowing exactly what you want based on your body language. if you’re a bit fidgety in public, he’ll guide you away to give you a break. if your hands start to wander during what originally started as a small kiss? that was a sure fire sign that you wanted something more…

heizou is lowkey kind of a brat. the flirty nature of his doesn’t fade away when he’s about to get his brains fucked out, so prepare for him to sweet talk you and tease until he eventually can’t talk anymore.

he’ll always try to annoy you, whether that be by small remarks or outright disobeying you when you want him to do something. but unlike venti, he won’t tone it down. why? he wants you to wreck him. treat him like he’s just a toy for you to use.

his moans are on the sobbier side, as he cries pretty easily. he loves loves LOVES getting pinned down, so feel free to push his arms down into the bed as you’re fucking him so he’s unable to squirm away as he cries and pleads for you to let him cum.

summary: i don’t know much about him but he’s cute! very bratty, but he’s the fun kind of bratty. the kind where you don’t mind because it was so fun seeing him slowly lose his composure.

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