#I finished both my secret Santa so

[hajihiko]

Thought you might be interested so I thought it'd be nice to let you know that there will be a Hajime zine going on (the @ is everybodyloveshajime)!

👀 !

[wishjacked]

Secret Santa gift for @mareliini of their webcomic characters Tauno and Varpu!! I love this webcomic a lot so this was a special treat to get to draw. :)

[fakeoutbf]

.

[apclyptc]

DUMB— chris sturniolo x reader

synopsis: reader is smart and top of her class in college. chris however, is not too interested in her intelligence.

warnings: full on smut, swearing and also drinking/smoking, use of the pet name baby, use of the word slut, dumbification, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex

“hit her from the back she can’t do nothing but yell,

and she smart as fuck i got this bitch straight out of yale”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Ever since you were younger, you seemed to have a gift for memorising and holding information. Because of this, people assumed you studied constantly.

Obviously, you did study. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have a social life. You enjoyed college parties like any other person would.

So when a guy in your class invited you to his frat house for a party, of course you didn’t refuse.

The only thing was, this guy just happened to be Chris.

He was in your social studies class, usually sat at the very back with a couple of his friends in the lecture. You knew of each other, having shared mutual friends from other classes. You’d never really spoken to him one-to-one, mainly because he was always socialising with pretty much everyone, and while you weren’t shy, you also weren’t a huge fan of jumping into conversations with people who all knew each other prior.

It also didn’t help that Chris was the most attractive man you had seen in college, or maybe in your life.

You were good at hiding it, but he made you nervous. Of course, when he invited you to his fraternity house, you faked an air of confidence so you didn’t weird him out.

“Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” Chris began, and when you affirmed with a nod he continued, “I’m throwing a party tonight, you should come.” He threw a smile in your direction, and you pushed down the immediate feeling of giddiness before answering.

“Yeah sure, sounds good. When does it start?” You asked nonchalantly as you could.

“Around 10. You can come whenever, it will be on way into the morning anyway.”

“Great. Am I good to bring a couple friends?” You replied, not wanting to walk into a party alone.

“Yeah that’s fine with me. Ask your friend Lola, my buddy Nate has a thing for her. Just don’t tell him I told you that.” He smirked at you.

That smirk. You wished you could see that smirk while he was hovering over you as he sla—

“Lola, yeah! I’ll bring her along with me.” You snapped out of your less than decent reverie and gave Chris a response.

“Perfect. I’ll see you there, Y/N.” He gave a quick glance up and down your body before turning and walking away from you.

It was then you realised, you had absolutely nothing to wear. Plus, since Chris just personally asked you, you decided you may as well dress as hot as possible.

Y/N: hey lola, frat party tonight?

Lola: do u even have to ask??? usually it’s me dragging u to these things

Y/N: true lmao. i’m gonna need to borrow something from ur closet

Lola: ooooh why, do u need smth slutty?

Y/N: maybe

maybe i was personally invited by the party thrower

Lola: who

Y/N: chris 😇

Lola: GIRL-

ok ok i’ll give u the sluttiest thing i can find

come over later and we can pick something out for u

A couple of hours later once you were finished at college, you headed to your best friend Lola’s dorm.

You two had spent what seemed like hours choosing each other’s outfits.

“By the way, a little birdie told me that Nate has a thing for you.” You eyed Lola up, knowing she had a soft spot for him.

“Oh, really? That’s interesting. Totally unrelated but would you still happen to have that box of condoms I gave you for secret santa last year?” Lola gave you a suggestive look, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course. Already put two in my bag.” You both laughed.

You arrived at the party at 11:27, mainly because no one turns up to a party on time, but also because Lola took a ridiculous amount of time to get ready.

You met up with a couple of girls from the dorms opposite Lola, seeing as they were also invited.

As soon as you arrived, you were immediately shown to the kitchen where an array of bottles were displayed.

Vodka, whiskey, rum, tequila and practically any spirit you could think of, were decorated around the kitchen.

You grabbed two cups, one for you and Lola, and filled it with vodka and soda.

“Hey, I think I see Nate and Chris over there.” Lola points behind you through to the games room, where lo and behold, Nate and Chris were playing what looked like an intense game of beer pong.

The two of you walked over to them, Nate noticing you first.

“Hey! Come help me win the game, Lola.” He gestured for her to play with him.

Chris had then turned around to see you, that smirk appearing yet again.

“You gonna help me?”

You took a quick swig of the contents in your cup before joining Chris at the table.

“Atta girl. Nice of you to bring Lola for my bro.” He spoke in a low voice so that only you could hear.

“Chris, stop flirting and throw the damn ball.” Nate teased, and you felt your cheeks grow red.

Chris threw the ball into the cup closest to him, the object landing into the beer and making a splash.

“Drink up, fool.” he glanced at you to make sure you were watching.

After a while, you had enough to drink to give you a confidence boost, and were now invested in the game of beer pong.

It was down to one cup each, and you had to make the final shot.

“Come on, Y/N,” Chris spoke from behind you, “you got it.”

It was too hard to concentrate with his voice so close to your ear, and his body so close to yours. You threw the ball, but it narrowly missed the cup.

“Yes! Chris you’re a loser!” Nate laughed at his best friend across from the table, throwing his arm around Lola who had locked eyes with you as he did this.

‘Don’t forget the condom’, you mouthed to her playfully, and she winked, pointing to her pocket.

Nate and Lola had then disappeared together, leaving you alone with Chris.

“Sorry I missed the cup.” You joked.

“Apology accepted. You wanna smoke with me?” He pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from his pocket.

You weren’t a huge smoker, only joining with Lola occasionally when you felt like unwinding.

Nevertheless you agreed, deciding you may as well since you were at a party.

Chris lead you upstairs into his room. Your eyes immediately glanced around the room, taking in its appearance.

Chris sat on the edge of his bed, and you followed.

“Could you get my lighter, it’s in the top drawer over there.” He pointed to the bedside table at the wall, and you grabbed the device, passing it to him which he thanked you for.

“Lola and Nate seem to hit it off.” You spoke.

Chris held the joint between his lips, lighting it before replying, “he’s down bad for her. Has been for a while.”

You giggled to yourself, knowing Lola felt the same about him. It was a good feeling for you, because you knew Nate was a nice guy.

“They’re a good match. Nate’s a good guy for her." You responded, watching Chris take the first hit of weed and exhaling the thick smoke.

“Yeah? Is that what you’re into? Nice guys?” He asked you, taking another hit before passing it to you.

You took the joint from his hand and inhaled.

“I guess. I think I prefer someone more… unpredictable.” You had Chris in mind as you answered. You had yet to figure out why he invited you here himself, since you didn’t know each other that well.

“In what way?”

“I don’t know, someone I can’t figure out. I like to be kept on my feet, someone like Nate is easy to understand because he’s straightforward. Which is great for Lola, she deserves someone who is like that.” You thought about all the past few guys Lola had a thing with. They weren’t that nice.

You passed the joint back to Chris who had his eyes trained on you as you spoke.

“So you like the tension, not knowing when or if someone wants you.” He tried to understand.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice when it’s easy. But..” You trailed off.

“It’s more fun not to know.” Chris finished your trail of thought as if he knew the feeling.

“Exactly.”

A comfortable silence sat between you, passing the joint back and forth until it was gone.

“I have a question.” You asked, breaking the silence.

Chris tapped the joint out on his bedside table, and brought his attention back to you, “Go ahead.”

“Why did you invite me here? I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want to come, it’s just that we haven’t really talked much.” You asked, needing to know.

Chris chuckled.

“I thought it was more fun not to know?” He smirked, using your own logic against you.

“Come on! Tell me.” You persisted.

Chris leaned in closer to you, and you could swear your heart was beating out of your chest.

“I always see you in class,” He began to explain, continuing to close the gap between you, “sitting close to the front, answering all the questions. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”

The tension was palpable, and you felt yourself grow wetter as his low voice penetrated your ears.

“I want an answer.” He demanded.

“I- I guess so.” Your voice wavered, all of a sudden finding it hard to speak.

“I’ve always wanted to see how long it takes until I can make you speechless.”

And it surely didn’t take long, because in moments his lips were on yours.

It was as if every guy you had dated never existed, the feeling of Chris kissing you overrode any experience you had thus far.

His left hand rested on the back of your neck while his other hand took the opportunity to roam around your body, from your thighs to your chest, until it landed on your waist.

Your hands swiftly made their way to his arm and hair, while deepening the kiss he had started.

In a quick movement he lifted you onto his lap, letting both his hands find purchase on your waist.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you slowly moved your hips rhythmically, earning a soft grunt from him.

Pulling away, he spoke, “You want to do this?”

You nodded, before asking the same of him.

“Do you?”

That same smirk that sent you reeling reappeared again.

“Does this answer your question?” He grinded his hips upwards into you, allowing you to feel his growing hard-on.

A whine escaped from your lips.

“No more talking.”

You reconnected your lips to his, the energy of the room turning into heated passion.

Chris’ hands slowly dragged down to your ass, kneading them with roughness.

You whined again, unable to stop any sounds from leaving your mouth.

The sound of the ongoing party downstairs could be faintly heard from inside the room, but you paid it no mind. You couldn’t, not while Chris had all his attention on you.

He briefly paused to take off the top you were wearing, and then resumed with his skilled tongue, sliding against yours. He took you off his lap, not separating from you for a moment as he laid you down on your back.

“Such a smart girl in class,” he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him, “Does anyone know that you’re really just a little slut?” He kissed your neck, then your jaw.

“I need an answer.” Chris demanded again, and you rubbed your thighs together in want.

“No.” You breathed.

“No, what?” His hand glided up your thigh, separating them.

“I’m not a slut.” You managed to find words.

“So if I reach in between your legs, right now, you won’t be dripping for me?”

You knew you were.

A hand snaked through your skirt, pulling aside your underwear, and he slowly dragged a finger down your pussy.

“I’ve barely touched you. Do you want me to? Want me to touch you right here?” His finger, coated in your slickness, inched its way inside, just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to satisfy you.

You bucked your hips up, trying to feel something, anything.

But Chris pulled his hand away, causing you to whine in frustration.

Luckily for you, he wanted to feel you so badly, he couldn’t tease you for long. He grabbed the hem of your skirt, pulling it down your legs and threw it in the same direction as his shirt.

“I want to hear you. You love opening that mouth when we’re in class.” And with that, he pulled your underwear aside and attached his mouth straight to your throbbing clit.

All you could do was moan and writhe in his bed as he delved into your wet cunt, licking up all the arousal like a starved man.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on it desperately. The vibrations from the groan that left his mouth sent waves of pleasure tearing through your body.

Chris’ hands dug into the flesh of your thighs as they instinctively tried to close around his head.

“Fuck, right there!” You moaned loudly as his tongue dove inside your hole.

One of his hands left your thigh and drew circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back at the white-hot pleasure you felt from his ministrations.

Chris could feel his dick pulsate through his pants at the sounds you were making. He needed to feel you.

“You want me to fuck you, huh? Fill you up good?” He asked, and you knew by now he wanted an answer.

“Please, please, please.” Were the only words you could muster, too high on the feeling Chris had given you with his mouth.

He wasted no time on giving you what you were begging for, quickly discarding his pants and boxers, along with your bra and soaked panties.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he slid his dick over the slick of your pussy and pushed the tip in.

Your eyes had shut in anticipation, but when he made no attempt to move you opened your eyes to look at him.

He had waited until you made eye contact with him before pushing his entire dick inside you.

You both moaned at the full feeling, your walls contracting around him.

After a few seconds, Chris began to move.

Thrusting in and out at a slow pace as if to torture you, he shuddered, revelling in the feeling of your tight cunt.

“Fuck, feels so good baby.” You whined at the pet name, bringing his face down so you could kiss him again.

He started picking up the pace after this, your tongues smashing together in absolute need.

“Faster, faster.” You babbled, drunk off the sensation of his cock piston in and out of you.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you dumb?” He grunted, loving how you could barely string full sentences together.

“Yes, yes, please. Need you deeper.”

The dirty words spilling from your mouth caused him to moan, and he flipped you onto all fours.

“Wanna see that pretty little ass bounce while I fuck you.” He muttered as he entered you yet again.

His pace was relentless, his balls slapping against you from the way he was pounding deep inside you.

You were just making sounds as you tried to say “Harder, faster, more,” but the words couldn’t form properly.

“The slut wants more? Can’t even speak but you’re begging for more?” He taunted you from behind.

You felt a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a soothing rub directly after. You practically yelled as Chris’ hand came down, your cunt convulsing.

“Knew you’d like that,” he slapped your cheek again, “Can feel you squeezing around me.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach unraveling, and you knew you wouldn’t last longer.

“Chris, gonna cum.” You managed to speak between moans.

“Come on baby, need you to cum while I’m inside you.” He groaned, trying to hold his own release off.

His words guided you right to your orgasm, shaking and crying while you came.

“Fuck, you want my cum inside you? Want me to stuff you full?” His pace was losing rhythm, chasing his orgasm while simultaneously overstimulating you.

“Mm, cum inside me. Want to feel it.” You cried, thrusting into him so you could feel more of him.

“So good, feels so good. Oh, I’m gonna cum inside of you,” Chris rambled, “Gonna fill you up with it.”

His moans were uncontrollable, spilling out of him as he relished in the warm feeling of your pussy.

“Cumming.” He grunted, as ropes of his cum spurted out, coating your insides until there was nothing left.

You both took the time to catch your breath, as Chris pulled out of you with a shaky sigh.

“Let me get you a towel.”

You turned onto your back once more, trying to comprehend the mind blowing sex you just had while dozens of people were partying downstairs.

Chris came back with a towel, cleaning the both of you up and passing you your underwear back.

“Hey.” You finally spoke, tired from all the stamina you had just burned.

“Hey.” He replied back to you.

“That was… amazing.” You sighed.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

You weren’t sure if he wanted you to leave now, or if you were supposed to stay, so you opted to do nothing.

“Let me take you on a date.” He announced, and you laughed.

“Don’t you think we’ve done this all a little backwards?”

Chris smiled and brought your head to his shoulder.

“I guess I’m just unpredictable.”

You then remembered you didn’t even use the condom you brought with you. You’d have to make your first date with Chris a trip to the pharmacy.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n haha…. always wear a condom, kids!

hope you enjoyed my first oneshot.

send me any requests you want me to write! i think i’m gonna do an nsfw alphabet next, for chris and matt too

[thatsdemko]

my valentine - o.piastri

masterlist | pairing: Oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: a red lacy Valentine’s Day seems to be just the kind of thing Oscar needs…

warnings: not intended for minors + oral (f receiving) + talks of Valentine’s Day + some errors here or there

a/n: I’m baaaack! while I know this isn’t the part two to the secret Santa that’ll hopefully be here soon I’m having some trouble writing that rn… but please enjoy this!!!

what did men like on Valentine’s Day? was it lace? was it red? or was it just sex? you couldn’t decide the answer. while you stood dumbfounded and dripping in nervous sweat inside the Victoria secret, it left you no choice but to leave and hope scrolling on Amazon wouldn’t lead to the same amount of panic and overwhelm.

you’d wanted to make Valentine’s Day perfect for Oscar. with all of his training and simulator work he’s been doing this winter break, you figured he deserved something special. you perused store upon store for the ideal lingerie for that special Wednesday night, but came up with nothing.

“you’re back from the mall awfully early.” Oscar comments hearing his apartment door shut behind you.

“really? felt like I was there for ages.” you huff out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the couch, “if you were wanting something for Valentine’s Day, what would it be?” you ask staring into his big brown eyes.

a laugh escapes his lips. he’s told you infinite amount of times he wanted nothing for the silly hallmark day. he just wanted a nice meal and some quiet time with you. what more could a man ask for? it was a door you never wanted to open, but you knew there was more to it.

“please don’t buy me anything—“

“oh no it’s not like that.” you cut him off, the heat returns to your cheeks when he looks over at you with a knowing look. you sink further into the couch cushions hoping to disappear, but his eyes stay glued to your growing redness.

“well then I guess I’ve always liked the color red on you.”

—

the red lace underneath your pajamas is uncomfortable. you’re unsure how anyone woman could deal with the deep wedge of material up their ass, and the sheer itching against their stomachs, but you figure you can power through. it’s just one night— well that’s unless Oscar decides the 10 dollar red lace bodysuit was to stay permanently.

you hear the lock of your apartment free, and the door swing behind him indicating Oscar and the carry out food had arrived.

“darling, where are you?” he calls out from the kitchen, and taking no time to wait for you. he’s unpacked the styrofoam containers from the bag, opening his box, he takes in a few bites of food that attempted to spill out the container.

reaching for a napkin to clean up his mess, he quickly glances up to see if you’ve made your way in only to stop in his tracks, jaw nearly smack to the floor at the sight of red.

“you look—“ he doesn’t get the chance to begin, there’s not a word he can find to finish the sentence, because whatever it was he was already feeling against his pants.

moving around the counter, he finds himself in front of you where he can see just how much you’re doing to him with so little. a giggle escapes your lips as you pull his face to yours, “did you want to eat first?” you ask.

shaking his head he whispers a no, before placing his hands against your hips, finger tips gently trail the red lace up your body, “I want you first.”

it’s not a long walk to your bedroom, but it feels like ages for him. every second he doesn’t have his hands on you is a waste, and when he finally does get them, it’s not wasted removing the lace from your body revealing every part of you faster than you expected him to do.

he takes the second to fumble with the condom, his fingers shake with anticipation, it’s almost like the first time you’d done it in your relationship. the nerves got to you both, trying to figure out what worked and didn’t, but now, you’d say your pros. knowing the ins and outs of each others bodies, like how he favored your lips around his dick and you liked his fingers inside of you. with time, you learned all of this.

this was a gift on its own, one that had him dripping in precum and aching to get inside you. and when the condom finally was secured, he, once again, didn’t waste a second to find your cunt and fuck you.

his hips grind against yours creating warmth between your bodies. his hair falls across his forehead that you can barely see with the blur of pleasure in your eyes.

he doesn’t say much. he never does, but he doesn’t hesitate to praise you, adore you, and remind you of how lucky he is.

“you’re so good to me,” he’s saying, transitioning from being inside you, his lips travel across your warm skin all the way down to your hips. his fingers gently nudge your thighs open, and you get the hint, “let me do this for you, my valentine.”

you’re unsure if it was the kisses, the words, or his warm tongue against your wet folds, but one of them got the air stuck in your throat. there’s nothing more than you love than the sound of Oscar eating you out. the slurps, the hum— all of it. the sounds were pleasing to your ears, even more so than the action itself you were gripping the sheets.

he’s edging you, playing you. its ridiculous and maybe you deserve it. after all, you’d put the idea of you in red in his head days ago and he’d been unable to concentrate. the patterns of floral dancing across your chest, a low cut neckline, he’d wanted it all— or none of it if you’d decided that. but you deserved this in some way. you’d been the one to send his dick rock hard any hour or second of the day.

“osc,” the moan comes out more like a pity plea. the chuckle against your pussy sent a chill down your spine and a twirl in your stomach. so you deserved that much, you thought, but this? not letting you come? too much.

“I’m gonna come,” the words spill as does the warmth out of you, his face covered in you wasn’t something he could ever be mad about, but not giving him the chance to edge you? you’ll be paying for that later.

“I wasn’t finished.” he slides a finger inside, barely giving you time to rest and recover, “you fucked with my mind all week.” he groans at the very sight of you from a couple minutes ago. he wished he’d taken a picture, saved it for later, but he was too antsy. his pants did the thinking more than his head. and that’s why he’s stuck his finger in your pussy.

he loves the sound of you. moans, groans, whines, whatever it was. he knew you liked the way he rubbed your clit, the way he kept going until he felt the shake of the frame against him, and that’s when he removed his fingers letting you come.

“what a jackass.” you swear closing your legs up and pushing yourself up off the mattress to find your clothes, “didn’t even let me cum on your fingers, like it’s not Valentine’s Day—“

he shuts you up with a soft kiss, “I think we should eat first before another round.” his words hang in the air as he watches the anger sizzle out of you, “and I want you in that red thing again.”

“anything for you, my valentine.”

tags: @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @leclerc13 @smoothopz @imsorare @lpab @lunnnix @frreyaa

[blackwolfstabs]

Parker's Secret Santa Gifts🎄for @alkivm

ONE NORMAL NIGHT

In the heart of winter and in the dead of night, you and Wednesday share the woods.

fandom: Wednesday (2022) pairing: Wedesnday Addams × Fem!Vampire!Reader a/n: this is my 1st × reader ever so i'm feeling very insecure about it.. however, i wanted to do something up your alley, Alk. i also wanted to write from Wednesday because i knew writing something of Sam would be too predictable of me haha. anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

You slid into the partially dark dorm room that held your girlfriend’s strong scent. For someone as dark and mysterious as Wednesday, you never expected her to have a smell that was actually calming. However, this made it easier for you to find her. Being a vampire allowed you the same nose the werewolves had. Maybe even better, in your opinion…

Speaking of werewolves, Enid’s side of the room was the dark side, for once. She must’ve been out with her girl pack. This led you to immediately find Wednesday seated at her desk with a lit lamp as the clicking of the typewriter keys echoed off the walls. Her writing time, you presumed with a small smirk and shake of your head. It was part of her nightly routine. 

But you were looking for a night where they could just be with each other. It had snowed all day, but with the dark that you both adored, came clear skies and moonlight that made the snow sparkle. Wednesday, of course, didn’t care for sparkly things, but you hadn’t seen anything more vintage in decades. And you wanted to share that with her.

You wanted one normal night.

She never stopped typing, her black eyes undivided, but there was something about the way her shoulders braced that told you that she knew you were there. So, you approached her, but before you could speak, she did.

“What is it, Y/N?” she asked flatly. “You know this is my—”

“Yes, yes, I know. This is your writing time,” you cut her off as you stopped behind her chair and leaned against it. “I was thinking… maybe we could take a walk through the woods? We’ve been shut indoors all day because of the snowfall, and the moon is rather beautiful tonight.” You heard her give a short huff, which encouraged you to follow up with, “Almost as beautiful as you…”

Wednesday scoffed as she felt you lean down and kiss her cheek. You had just been outside, on your way over, so your lips were cold against her warm skin. It made her pull away slightly, “Oh, please, your pick-up lines are aging on me.” But even she had her own jokes to turn around on you, and she glanced up to tease, “Almost as much as you.”

To be fair, you did not see that coming as you looked away in mock offense. “You've been waiting to spring that one on me, haven’t you?”

She shrugged and went back to her writing, “Not really. You just fell into the trap.”

“Sly psychic,” you rolled your eyes.

“Dumb vampire.”

God, the way she just threw back words in any situation that made her charisma grow had your vampire instincts tingling. It made you frisky and longing for a hunt. However, if Wednesday followed your lead, you could take the thirst just to have one night with her. “Please?” you hated to beg, yet here you were doing it for her. “Can’t you spare one day of cutting your writing time short?”

Your borderline-desperate tone made her give a small smirk, and that gave you a little bit of hope. You had other plans for that night anyway, so you would make sure she’d show her side of the duality you had gotten the pleasure to know.

“Let me finish this paragraph,” she eventually gave in. 

You let her do so without trouble, pacing around the room like a caged tiger while you waited. And then she stood up from her chair and turned around to catch you looking at her.

“You’ve got the patience of a saint.” The sarcasm was thick in her flat tone.

You just shrugged and nodded to the tunic-length jacket that was lying on her bed, “That should be warm enough for you.”

The raven gave you an uncertain look as she went to retrieve it and slip it on. “Sometimes, I think you forget that I’m not a vampire,” she commented, clearly not convinced one jacket would keep her warm in the snowy wilderness.

“Never,” you assured her. When she turned around and approached you with her dark eyes trying to figure out the million thoughts behind your glowing ones, you gave her a wink. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll keep you warm.” 

She didn’t look convinced. “I’m thrilled.” Then again, she never did.

You never took that personally from her. After all, she was the one to insinuate a relationship that was more than friends. She had even stolen the first kiss between you two. As uninterested as she tried to seem, you knew she was curious about what you had in mind. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have followed you out.

The bitter cold of the winter night suited you just fine as you stepped out of the heated indoors and shook your head out to relish the chilly freedom. You sighed in delight, before looking over your shoulder to see Wednesday pacing up next to you. 

She blinked unsteadily, the breeze stinging her eyes and cheeks as her bangs were swept aside. She crossed her arms and hugged them against her chest. “It had to be tonight?”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, come on, Wednesday, it’s not that bad!” You gave her a playful nudge. “You just need to get that warm blood pumping,” you then teased, your breed leaving you immune to the freeze.

She just growled in annoyance, which made you decide to take the first step—well, more like the second step now… “So, try and keep up,” you told her, then raced away into the woods.

It must have caught her off-guard, because she immediately followed hot in pursuit. “Y/N!” It was like she hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was rushing into a game of Tag, like it was a mindless effort that sent her after you.

Her calls made you run faster, weaving through the trees like a trained dog in agility, and you let out a triumphant howl that sent the crows scattering into the night sky. In return, you actually got a few calls back from the werewolves scouting the forest as well. “Hey, Wednesday!” you hollered over your shoulder, “you think one of those is your roommate?!”

You could hear your girlfriend’s panting grow louder as she flanked you a few yards back. “No!” she answered, “Enid wouldn’t be caught dead in this kind of cold!”

“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?!” Being an Addams gave you so much freedom to joke about death, considering you were already dead inside. It was meant to be.

“Not tonight, Y/N!”

You just laughed and raced on, filing deeper and farther into the world of forestry that almost shielded the moonlight. The wind seemed to be going 100 miles per hour against your skin, making a million scents bathe your tongue every time you breathed in. 

And then the scent of fur and fresh-kill caught your senses. You were gaining too close to the werewolves, so you figured this was a good place to stop.

Wednesday, on the other hand, didn’t have as keen a sense of smell, which kept her racing on. She couldn’t see you anymore, but she had done that dance before. The amount of times she’d run through this very forest was unimaginable, especially with a destination known or unknown in mind. She wasn’t afraid of running through the dark; however, the crisp cold air was taking a toll on her lungs. She called out for you, slowing down to catch her breath. “Y/N?!”

Compared to the way she’d sounded a few minutes ago, back at the dorm, she wasn’t so uptight about everything. And that was where you wanted her.

The raven slowed all the way, when she didn’t receive a response from you. She glanced around as she trotted forward. “Y/N?” Her panting was silenced among the breeze and so was your movement in the low branch of the nearest tree.

When she passed it, you grabbed her arm and pulled it towards the trunk. She yelped and spun around, yanking her arm away to look up and meet your golden eyes. “Sorry,” you giggled, releasing her to comb your wind-tossed hair back with one hand. 

Her voice went back to its natural, monotoned-self. “Why are you in a tree?”

“We’re too close to the werewolves,” you nearly whispered the explanation. Then, you held your hand out to her. “Come on, I’ll help you up.” 

The gold shimmer in your eyes struck the lightest reflection in hers as she took it and let you pull half of her weight up onto the same branch.

You knew she wasn’t the most comfortable person with heights without being guarded by some sort of railing, so you made sure she was steady before you continued to lead the way up. Being a vampire, your agility and strength were reliable. You could weave quicker through the limbs. And once you reached almost ¾-ths of the way up, you crouched to check on your girlfriend.

Despite her size and normal human strength, she actually kept up well, only being a few branches below. However, being the lady vampire you were, you had lived for a few centuries. So, chivalry was definitely not dead in your era, just evolved out of the strictly-male ideals. “Wednesday!” She paused her climbing to glance up at you, which made you hold your hand out to her again. “I got you.” The cold must have been biting at her because she grabbed your hand with no hesitation, and you lifted her up, wrapping one arm around her waist to safely bring her to your level. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but the raven was relieved that you had the decency to allow her to be closest to the tree trunk. She glanced down, almost nervously, but left it undetectable as she asked, “Is there any reason why you insist on being so high up?”

“No one can see us from up here.” 

She shifted skeptically. 

“I thought you liked being uncomfortable,” you smirked. You caught the way she curved her fingers into the bark, threatening to clutch it if the branch that held them teased a crack or two.

Wednesday gave a slightly flustered sigh. “The last time I was in a tree, things didn’t go so well.” When she looked your way again, the moon light dappling through the trees made her eyes show a shade of brown that wasn’t common in her natural aesthetic. 

It took some of the frost away from the cold that you didn’t realize you could feel until that deep gaze met yours. Her frame looked even smaller as she backed up to secure herself against the trunk, which you knew she did to brace herself in case anything happened. You softened your voice as you moved closer to her. “I won’t let you fall,” the words came so naturally, it was almost considered pure.

She blinked at you. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N…” 

You stopped a short distance from her, close enough to see what she hoped you wouldn’t: her desire for comfort. You slid one hand around her waist and the other over her cheek to block the winter breeze. “Here’s my promise,” you whispered, then pulled her into a gentle kiss.

To your surprise, she fell into it instantly, almost as if she was thinking of the same thing. She must have felt secure in your arms, for she then put her arms around your torso. And through the kiss, you smiled. 

She pulled away. “Is that all you got?” she tested you, looking away and over your shoulder to bait you into moving elsewhere than her lips.

You took in a deep breath, and her scent was so strong that you could almost taste her… You felt your golden gaze start to burn and your mouth start to salivate. There was a surge of power that entwined your bloodstream, and the thrill to drink made you stare at her open neck. Well… almost open. “Are you teasing me, Ms. Addams?” you asked her as you dipped your head towards the crook of her neck and nosed her braid over her shoulder, fully exposing her warm skin. 

“Bite me, Y/LN,” she almost purred into your ear. It was supposed to be a tease, but it came out more as a command.

But it was your pleasure, regardless. “Not until we’re in bed, my cold-hearted darling,” you replied, then pressed your lips to her neck. It was hard not to bite her right now. Just a little taste of that sweet drink that came out of the most savage student in Nevermore Academy would have sufficed. But you wouldn’t. Not now. For now, you forced yourself to only kiss and suckle her skin in a slow trail down her neck, but you did manage to let your fangs nip her every now and then.

All the while, Wednesday laid her head on your shoulder, sighing through the treatment with small moans, while her black nails curled into your spine when your fangs would catch her soft skin. 

It was the perfect mix of Heaven and Hell.

It was angelic and demonic.

It was sweet and stubborn.

It was you and Wednesday…

On this one normal night.

merry christmas/happy holidays alk! i hope this made you smile and i'm wishing you a very pleasureable rest of the season. thank you for being such a supportive friend 🎄✨🎁

- parker (BWS)

[catiuskaa]

ticklish, cold water nights. —bf!jisung thoughts.

A/N: the bf!thoughts series is finished! I’m so happy I could finish it. I had so much fun coming up with these lil scenarios. Feel free to check them all out, they’re all linked in my masterlist!

i’m an absolute simp for this man. that’s it. that’s me.

(got a bit carried away, oopsies, lol)

jisungie, who softly blinks, sitting in front of his computer screen, eyes itchy and throat dry after hours of work.

jisungie, who wants to drink water, but the bottle in his study room is empty, and the kitchen is too far away for him not to grunt at the thought.

jisungie, who grins like a naughty boy santa would think twice if he should write him down on his list, closing his laptop and waddling to your room, only a few steps away.

jisungie, who smiles like a fool at the sight of you, wearing a sweater of his and a pair of fluffy socks that he gifted you as a joke because the design looked like penguins.

jisungie, who giggles when you move your eyes away from your phone and stare at him from the bed. “Well, well, well, look who it is.” Even after a couple months dating, you still make him blush when you tease him.

jisungie, who happily plops himself down over you, his face lying on your chest until you cradle it with your hands. “Hi, cutie.” You smile, and he grins back.

jisungie, who starts peppering your face with soft kisses, his hands trailing under your—his—sweater. “Hey, lovely.” He mumbles, still focused on his task.

jisungie, whose heart flutters at your giggles. “H-hey! Y-you’re tickling me!” You playfuly start pushing him off you, but your antics don’t work against a gym bro.

jisungie, who stops to let you breathe, and you struggle to catch your breath, your cheeks red and your lungs begging for a break. “You’re a meanie.” You huff, and he kisses your forehead with a smirk.

jisungie, whose smirk grows even wider when you whine. “Baby, no!” He snorts. “Baby, yes.”

jisungie, who teases you, his fingers threatening to tickle you again, stroking your skin under your—his—sweater.

jisungie, a secret meanie. “I want water.” He starts. “And you, beautiful, want me to stop tickling you.”

jisungie, who plays his part, holding back the urge to just grab the water himself when you whine again. You’re so cute, he almost can’t help it. “Not fair!” you pout, and he coos at you.

jisungie, who grins, counting down, now resting comfortably on your bed. “Three… two… one… one and three quarters… one and a half…”

jisungie, who frowns. “No! That’s water from the sink, I want a bottle from the fridge!” You roll your eyes, and he smiles back at you, throwing a kiss.

jisungie, who is slightly confused when you bring a bottle of water— empty. “You didn’t specify if it had to be full.” You mock, sticking your tongue out at him.

jisungie, who raises from your bed and pins you up against the closet, tickling you again. “O-okay, okay! I’ll grab your stupid water!”

jisungie, who smiles cheekily when you hand him the bottle of cold water, and stops you by his side as he takes a sip.

jisungie, who smugly makes you swallow not only your snarky coments when he kisses you deeply, messily passing the water to you, but also said water.

jisungie, who softly cleans the remaining water off your lips. “There. Gorgeous and hydrated.” He teases, and you slap his butt as he cackles, both of you heading off to bed now.

~kats, who has no excuse for that ending, but has no intention of apologizing for it either lololol.

[kyuuppi]

help, my boyfriend has no sex drive! (5)

Pairing: Kenma x reader (f)

Contents: smut; established relationship; feminization, "femboy", heavy praise kink (Kenma); rough sex; creampie; Christmas themes

Words: 3.4k

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

“But as long as you’d love me so—

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snoooow”

Kenma tries not to visibly cringe at the cheery music as he emerges from his office, finally finished with his obligatory three-hour “Christmas special” stream.

As you had been for the past month, you’re softly singing along to some Christmas carol playing from your shitty laptop speaker. You had busied yourself with reorganizing the presents under the full-sized tree—something you had insisted on buying for the apartment.

Kenma had little more interest in most holidays than the “free day from school” perks. But as he watches you scurry around your shared living room wearing candy cane-themed stockings, an oversized ugly Christmas sweater, and a hundred-yen-store Santa hat, Kenma is thankful you had expressed your desire to celebrate with him. He will gladly participate in anything that makes you this innocently cheerful. 

Your background music is abruptly cut short and you frown when you realize your laptop has just died again. But the disappointment is cut short when you notice Kenma, standing awkwardly by the couch in the dark Christmas sweater you had insisted he wear for his stream. 

“KenKen—your stream is over?”

Kenma smiles softly at how eager you look, eyes practically sparkling. 

“Yeah, I’m free now. You wanted to open presents, right?” 

You nod quickly, guiding him to the couch and leaving only to retrieve a cup of hot cocoa—extra whipped cream—and a slice of homemade apple pie, placing them both in front of him on the coffee table. He thanks you quietly, predictably digging into the apple pie first. 

“So I think we should start with your family’s gifts first,” you begin, already passing him a small stack of presents, all wrapped in identical green and red paper. 

After nearly half an hour you two had finally worked your way through nearly all of the presents. Most were the typical things–an abhorrent amount of socks and pajamas from your families, Kenma’s mother gifting both of you very cringey matching couple sets with any video game character she saw. You had to try very hard not to laugh at Kenma’s face when you opened a matching Kirby and Jigglypuff sweater set with a handwritten heart note.

“Aww, don’t pout KenKen, your mom was just being thoughtful.” “They’re not even in the same series.” 

A few gifts had been surprising–namely Kuroo’s cat ear headphones—to which Kenma promptly sent a text telling Kuroo to never buy him Christmas gift ever again— and even a signed pro jersey from Hinata. Even if he didn’t voice it, you noticed how touched Kenma seemed by the gesture and you made a mental note to buy something to display it in the apartment. A few gifts were even from Kenma’s fans, sending various game merchandise, snacks from their country, and even fan art of the two of you. 

Finally, the last remaining gifts were the ones you made for each other. You didn’t want to pressure Kenma to buy you anything fancy–and you also couldn’t afford to reciprocate with anything fancy, so you set a strict budget. 

Kenma was unexpectedly good at keeping secrets so you weren’t sure what he had gotten you–probably a game he wanted you to play together but the box was unexpectedly big—

Regardless, you knew what you got him , and it was something you had been thinking about for months. Needless to say, you were eager for him to open it. 

“Who should go firs—”

“I’ll go!”

Kenma raises a brow but complies as you all but shove your gift into his hands. The outside is unassuming—a flat package wrapped in red paper with a holographic silver stick-on bow in the center. Somehow, he feels vaguely uneasy. 

Cautiously, Kenma begins unwrapping the gift. You practically vibrate with excitement in your seat, eagerly watching as his thin fingers peel away the final layers of colorful paper. 

Finally, your present reveals itself, soft nylon fabric in a bright red shade. Kenma seems confused, unsure of what exactly he is looking at until he shifts and the fabric unravels into two long strips. 

“Ta-daa,” you cheer, “your very own pair of thigh-high stockings!”

Kenma looks horrified. 

“This is a joke,” Kenma states, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as you. 

“What do you mean? Don’t you like them? Look, they’re even Christmas-themed!”

You guide his hands over to the top of the socks where a large red ribbon sits. Two short red strings dangle the ribbon with a small, fuzzy white ball at the end each. You make him squeeze the soft ball for good measure. His expression doesn’t change. 

“Why would you buy me these? You wasted actual, real-life money for this,” Kenma bemoans. 

“Didn’t your fans suggest something like this before? I think they called them programmer socks—”

“ Oh my god please stop talking.”

Kenma lets out a long, suffering groan as you eye him with an absolute shit-eating grin.

It’s fine, he thinks. You wanted to be a little shit like Kuroo but it was just a prank. He could probably Venmo back the money you wasted on this and never have to think of this situation ever again. He’ll toss them in the back of the closet next to those cat ear headphones Kuroo bought him. 

He is proven wrong when you nudge his shin with your own stocking-clad toes and give him an expectant look. 

“Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to try them on?”

Kenma’s brain very obviously fries and you have to resist the urge to laugh at his expression. 

“C’mon, I spent actual, real-life money on these," you tease, throwing his words back at him, "I wanna see you wear them at least once!”

“You have to be joking,” he all but whines. 

Your excited expression tells him you are very much not joking. Kenma considers refusing more firmly. He knows you genuinely care about him and would never push him to do something he was uncomfortable with—or at least so long as it wouldn’t actually kill him.  

But your eyes are wide and practically sparkling as you look at him expectantly with that cute little grin–the crippling humiliation that will likely haunt him every night for the rest of his life is nothing compared to your happiness. Kenma sighs deeply and you know you’ve won. 

He ignores your excited squeals as he stands up and shuffles towards the bathroom in something akin to a walk of shame. 

As Kenma stares at his own lithe form in the mirror he’s positive that he has never felt so mortified in his whole life. Not when he accidentally set a ball into Lev’s face during a match in high school. Not when he missed his ult in a team fight and cost his team the ranked match in League. Not even when he came so hard he nearly passed out while getting his dick sucked during a live stream. 

Kenma can barely even recognize himself in the mirror, eyes flitting from his familiar golden gaze down to his oversized black and white Nightmare Before Christmas sweater and, finally, to his thin legs wrapped in an inappropriately bright red pair of thigh-high socks.

Somehow, the stockings feel even more exposing than if he were just naked. He feels like some cheap, poorly drawn femboy character in a hentai. One of his first thoughts was they don’t look nearly as appealing on him as they do on you. His legs are too lanky–straight and lean from years of volleyball but missing the curve of healthy fat yours have. His face heats up as he visualizes your thighs currently clad in your own pair of red and white striped stockings. 

“KenKen are you ready yet? You’re taking foreeeeever!”

His heart rate picks up and he tries to remind himself it's just you, the person who makes him feel safest. He’s going to go out there, you’re going to see how cringe he looks, then you'll both laugh and never talk about this again. 

He takes a deep breath and opens the door, immediately meeting your gaze as you sit on the couch where he left you. Breath bated, he watches as your eyes dart down his body, darting around his lower half with your mouth agape. He tries his best not to squirm under your stare. 

“Fuck, Ken,” you chuckle breathily, “you look amazing.”

Kenma’s breath hitches, certainly not expecting that type of response. As you continue to take him in he realizes your gaze looks almost hungry, like you’re ready to devour him–shit, are you seriously into this?

He finds his answer in the way you motion him over, helpless in how his body obeys before he can even process the silent request. You reach out hesitantly, fingertips so close to his thighs he can feel your body heat even through the thin fabric. You glance up at him, asking permission, and he’s nodding immediately, desperate for your touch.

Your fingers land near his left knee, trailing up slowly and making his whole body tremble lightly. When your fingertips catch on the hem of the stockings he nearly gasps and then you're brushing his soft skin directly, only stopping when you reach the edge of the sweater that’s just barely covering his rapidly hardening cock. 

“You’re so pretty,” you praise, "my pretty boy."

Kenma makes a choked sound, surprised and mildly offended but also awfully turned on to hear any form of praise from your lips. No, he wants to argue, you’re the pretty one –but you look up at him, so pleased, that he can’t remember how to speak. 

“And now we match,” you sing, tone innocent as you raise your leg between his own. His eyes follow, nearly hypnotized by the contrast between your red-and-white stockings against his red ones before your clothed shin brushes against his crotch in a way that is anything but innocent. He has to grab the back of the couch near your head to keep his knees from buckling as he groans.

You seem to take some form of pity on him because you let up on his crotch with a giggle, making room for him to sit down beside you and catch his breath. Even when you let him rest your attention never strays from the item of clothing, hand idly stroking his thigh while you continue to drink in the sight of his pale skin contrasting with the scarlet cloth. 

“Do you really like it that much,” he asks, almost hesitant. 

He’s surprised at how sheepish you become, moving your hand away as your face slightly flushes. 

“Um–yeah. I know it’s kinda weird, sorry, you just look really pretty sometimes.”

Kenma frowns slightly and takes your hand back, returning it to his thigh with his own on top of yours. The action was meant to reassure you but it felt too bold and he avoids eye contact as he speaks.

“You don’t have to apologize, I don’t hate it…”

He sees the way you perk up, practically beaming, from the corner of his eye and is quick to clarify less you try to buy him a pair of panties or something next year. 

“It’s not my thing—I prefer seeing you in cute clothes…but I can try things like this if it makes you this happy.”

“Aww, KenKen, that’s so sweet!”

Kenma huffs, breath nearly knocked out of him when you launch yourself into his chest, planting noisy kisses all over his face. He tries his best to scowl but he’s pretty sure he’s failing by the way you giggle at his expression. Your Santa hat gets knocked off in the commotion but neither of you care. Kenma even takes the opportunity to bury his fingers in your messy hair as your kisses finally focus on his lips. 

Eventually, the kisses deepen, morphing from quick pecks to slow and open-mouthed. Your tongue invades his mouth, gravity giving you a clear advantage as you take charge of this kiss. But not one to easily accept defeat, Kenma takes the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass in a way that has you gasping in surprise. You start to grind on him, both of you letting out soft sounds between kisses. 

It’s you who pulls away first, making Kenma softly whine in protest, gaze hazy as he blinks up at you in question. 

“Wanna ride you,” you explain simply. 

Kenma hisses out his approval and obediently waits as you pull down your lounge shorts. You yank them down your legs and fling them across the living room with a little too much force, accidentally hitting the Christmas tree. You laugh at the sight of your fuzzy white shorts hanging on the tree like some soft of kinky Christmas ornament but Kenma is quick to redirect your attention by pulling you back down for another kiss. 

He grips your ass again, this time bare, and moves his fingers to prepare you for his dick but—

He abruptly stops and pulls away from the kiss in shock. 

“You’re already this wet?” His expression looks genuinely surprised and you can’t help but giggle. 

“I told you, you look really pretty.”

Kenma groans, not sure if he’s annoyed or turned on but his cock throbs all the same. You pull up the bottom half of his sweater to reach his black boxers. He’s so hard that it's almost difficult to get them off but he helps you pull them down just enough to free his leaking cock. It takes a moment to properly position yourself from this new angle, hindered by your bulky sweater and the headrest of the couch digging into your side but you manage to guide his leaky head to your drenched hole and ease down.

You both groan as he breaches your cunt, your wetness making the slide smooth even as you reach his thick base.

“F-fuck, Ken, you always feel so good,” you moan.

The praise feels like a punch to the gut and he’s thankful he’s already lying down so he can’t embarrass himself further by losing his balance. He’s coming to realize even if feminization isn’t his thing, praise might be. He thinks he'd do just about anything if it pleased you—if it made you look down at him with those shiny eyes and call him your good boy—fuck. Kenma has to force himself back to reality before he makes himself cum too quickly just by his own fantasies. 

You readjust your weight, leaning back and using his bent knees as leverage. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his stockings as you begin to move, raising to his tip before dropping your whole weight down. It feels good—mind-numbingly so—but he finds it looks even better. The angle you put yourself into gives him an unobstructed view of your face–eyes pinched closed and reddened lips open in pleasure, your breasts–soft and bouncing with every movement–and, best of all, your tight hole sucking him in with every uptake. 

He can’t tear his eyes away from where the two of you are connected. A creamy white ring is quickly forming at the base of his cock from how soaked you are, thin strings sticking to your pussy like webs. Framing it all are your thick thighs, muscles straining with your movements and squeezed by those god damned red-and-white striped thigh highs.

Fuck, he wishes he could record this.

He has apparently said that aloud on accident because now you’re grinning down at him conspiratorially. 

“Y-yeah?” you stutter out, “you wanna make a movie with me?”

Kenma doesn’t verbally answer but he doesn’t need to. Instead, he’s gripping your hips and guiding your pace, making you bounce on his cock faster while his own hips start to meet your thrusts. 

It has only been a few minutes but it's becoming clear your stamina is far from athletic. Your thighs burn and your pace stumbles but Kenma is quick to take advantage of the situation, using a strength you didn’t know he was capable of to roll you over and push you face down. 

“Kenma, wh—oh!”

Any dissent you had intended to make is abruptly cut off when your boyfriend, one knee digging into the couch for leverage, feeds his length back into your greedy hole and sets a pace that has you nearly screaming. His hips snap into you, hard, and you scramble to find something to hold on to. One hand finds the armrest of the couch near your head, nails nearly tearing into the fabric, while the other ends up behind you, digging into his thigh as he rams his hips into you. You’re drooling as you manage to stutter out a barely coherent statement through your moans.

“K-Ken, so h-hard, fuck—”

“Yeah,” He replies, sounding breathless but not nearly as wrecked as you. You curse his retired high school athlete stamina. 

“Am I still your pretty boy?”

The question momentarily shocks you. You aren’t sure what response he’s looking for but you answer honestly, too fucked out to ponder on it. 

“Y-yesyesyes, the prettiest! ”

“You like getting fucked by your pretty boy?”

“Yeeeess, I l-love it—oh god—”

One hand reaches up to grip your hair, tugging your hair in a way you aren’t sure is punishment or a reward. You cry out all the same, cunt squeezing him for dear life as he hits something deep deep deep inside of you. You’re fairly certain you’ve never been fucked this hard in your life. The sweet, no-sex-drive-having boyfriend trope becomes little more than a pipe dream as his hips smack into your ass without reprieve. 

“‘m g-gonna cum,” you warn.

Kenma’s grip on your hip tightens and he adjusts his angle to hit the spot he knows makes your toes curl and your pitch turns airy. The nail in the coffin comes when he releases your hair, but only to start rubbing your clit, remembering your favorite rhythm from the time he watched you masturbate. 

Expectedly, you cum, toes curling and squeals reaching a pitch you think might cause your boyfriend hearing damage. Your whole body seizes with your orgasm, cunt spasming and thighs squeezing shit as you please for him to stop, go harder–you aren’t sure. 

Kenma forces you to ride through it, fucking you even as your hips stutter violently and never letting up on your pulsating nub. It's only when you're nearing tears from the overstimulation that Kenma stops, moaning sweetly as his own orgasm overtakes him. He collapses against you in exhaustion as warmth fills you from deep inside, making a mess on your thighs as it gushes out between you. 

“Mm, y’r heavyyy,” you complain sleepily. 

Kenma grunts something in response but doesn’t bother moving. In fact, he seems to make himself more comfortable by moving his hands to find your own. He slips his long fingers in the spaces between your own, locking your hands together. Your heart swells at the action, constantly reminded how much this boy loves you even when he doesn't vocalize it very often.  

You allow him a few more moments of peace, listening to his harsh pants die down into something more calm before you speak again. 

“By the way, what was my present?”

Kenma stiffens against you, having completely forgotten about Christmas altogether. Quickly, he pulls away from you and the loss of warmth almost makes you regret saying anything. On shaky legs, Kenma shuffles over to the forgotten box, wrapped in royal blue paper and topped with a pretty gold ribbon. He comes back to the couch, gingerly helping you sit up before placing the box on your lap. 

You’re immediately surprised by the hefty weight of the box and grow curious as you tear at the paper. Within seconds, the logo and picture on the box become clear, making you gasp in shock. 

“Kenmaaaa,” you whine, trying not to tear up as you pout at him. 

To his credit, Kenma looks honestly guilty as he avoids your eyes. 

“We set a twenty-thousand-yen spending limit, ” you remind him.

“I know but—this is basically a necessity. Your old one was going to die any day now,” Kenma reasons, helping you pull out the shiny new laptop –in rose gold no less. 

“And it's a gaming laptop–that means you can play with me more so it’s basically a gift for me more than you,” he continues. 

You know he’s absolutely pulling excuses out of his ass but you can’t help the rush of affection at how much Kenma wants to spoil you. He always buys you the things you want, even when you insist on not wanting to take advantage of him as a wealthy streamer and businessman. He usually comes up with some excuse, I was going to buy one anyway so we can share or I have too much money this month, taxes will be a hassle if I don’t spend it. 

But he is right–your old laptop was on its last leg and every time you opened a Word document for school you had to pray it wouldn’t crash before you could save your draft.

You softly smile as you trace the box with a finger, elated that he even remembered which color you wanted. He grins at how pleased you clearly are, even if you won’t say it. 

“Besides,” his grin suddenly turns sly as he places a hand on the swell of your hip, “I heard the webcam is really great for recording movies.”

[zhxngii]

Alhaitham & Blade having a crush on you

❏ ( notes ) ; This is my gift for @yanqingisim for the Secret Santa event by @solarisfortuneia, I hope you enjoy it <3 ❏ ( contents ) ; PURE FLUFF! might be a bit of angst idk (surprise surprise.) , i tried to write these two tropes and I hope I did them well... sdjkhklasdme.

As Alhaitham's study buddy/research partner, he has a small (big) crush on you but doesn't know how you feel about him so he resorts to hiding his feelings.

How did he fall for you?

All it took was you truly being yourself around him. Usually, when he finishes a project with someone, he'd often hear them complain about how awkward it might've been or something along the lines of how frustrating his personality was... not that he cared though because in the end the project's done and he won't likely see them much.

You on the other hand... were a different case. He took note of how you tried to understand his side of things, not only yours, and how you tried your best to work with him despite how difficult or tiring it might've been. One thing he noticed was how determined you were with your research, and he found that attractive about you.

There used to be a point where he preferred to be alone but... you slowly became an exception as you two partnered up more.

What he does differently that gets your attention.

Alhaitham would eventually become aware of his feelings towards you, but isn't sure how you feel about him, so he'll keep it hidden away and to himself. Though, there will be a time he can't possibly just hide it anymore so what does he do?

He'll often start doing small things such as bringing his and your favorite snacks when you both take a break from all the work you've done so far. You wonder how he knew exactly what you liked and wanted at the moment at he just simply brushes it off by saying he just guessed... when really he took mental note of what you'd bring with you whenever you were with him.

Whenever you happened to catch him during his break, he puts his book down. Doesn't seem like such a big deal but... with anyone else, he wouldn't do as much as to spare a glance at them. He'd keep his eyes glued to the page he was on, not showing any bit of interest in the conversation that started with him since he wanted to be left alone already. But with you? The book can wait. You could've sworn that his eyes almost sparkle in a way whenever he looks up to see you.

Something cute he does.

Whenever you'd tell him a joke, he'll blush when you giggle at him. You find it adorable how when he doesn't get a joke, he'll often take it seriously and give such a long, textbook-based explanation. Once you explain to him, a look of embarrassment comes to his face but he'll laugh along with you at his own seriousness.

Blade's partner but the problem is that you two don't necessarily get along, he ends up developing a small crush on you, or rather a partnership as he would say in the long run.

How does he fall for you?

Blade wasn't very fond of you, the second he saw you he just didn't want you getting in his way of work. It didn't help how you two were often paired up with each other, on every mission no matter big or small, you two somehow were always stuck together.

He was always quite hard on you as your superior and he knew just how much you disliked him for how he treats you but the second you get injured... he gets worried sick. He knew you were strong on your own but knowing your clumsiness, he had to keep a close eye on you.

He's never once felt such the need to protect someone before, he thought it was just the way of a superior looking after the junior but... boy was he wrong. Soon it became more than just that kind of relationship between you two.

What he does differently that gets your attention.

He tends your injuries himself. Usually, he'd let someone else handle it, but he'd just do it himself as he wanted you to rest and be in bed as soon as possible. You didn't know how good he was at this kind of thing until that day.

He often holds your hand, leading your around with his hands tight around yours and the hilt of his sword. His excuse is that he wants to make sure you stay close to him and don't get lost, but in reality, he just wants to feel your hand in his. He'll give it a nice, firm squeeze from time to time, sometimes holding it longer than he intended.

He gives you small gifts of treats and items so you can take care of yourself when you both complete your tasks. Though he's the one that's literally helping you, he doesn't mind giving you a reward of such from time to time especially when the mission happened to take a toll on the both of you.

Something cute he does.

He becomes softer with you when it comes to winding down and relaxing, he'll take part in the little activities you enjoy even though it may seem totally out of his character but he's willing to enjoy it with you.

He'll even do such things as give you a nice hug, though the hug was mostly so he could enjoy your embrace around him as he relaxes into your arms. He loves the times like this when he can just be comfortable with you and not have to worry about being such a tough guy.

[lily-drake]

It’s a Learned Trait

This is my Secret Santa gift to Night_ngale on Ao3! This story is inspired by this photo by @mumblesplash on Tumblr (yes I got permission, and thank you for it!):

For Night_ngale on Ao3:

Marinette had been having a wonderful day with her parents in Gotham, New Jersey.  Her parents had just finished a catering job there and today they had decided to go sightseeing to all of the tourist attractions.  They had taken her to the zoo, to the aquarium, to the museum, and now they were heading to a bo-ton-tanicel-al…. botanical garden!  Both of her parents were holding her hands and smiling brightly at her as they walked the busy streets.  It was such a nice day, absolutely nothing could ruin it for her!

Then an explosion happened, and there was running, and a ringing noise in her ears that just wouldn’t stop, and everything was moving too fast.  

Screams filled the air along with scary high pitched giggling that sent shivers running through her spine.  She clutched tightly to the pair of hands that held onto both of her’s just as tightly, if not tighter, as they fled the crowded streets.  Then they could feel the cool shadow of something big that was coming from up high.  She looked up and felt herself freeze up as a massive piece of concrete broke off of the building they were under and fell faster and faster and faster exactly where she and her parents stood.  She tried to move, she tried to get herself to run away from the danger that she knew even at her age meant that she would no longer be able to wander the Earth; but she couldn’t.  The people kept shoving past her and her parents, keeping them in place as everyone pushed and shoved to get far, far away from the ensuing chaos.  The crowd was too thick, the screams were too loud, the rubble was too fast.  The next thing she knew was two pairs of different sized hands shoved her forward away from the massive pieces of falling debris that was right above them.  She turned to look behind her to see her parents' horrified expressions as they too stared up at the ginormous piece of concrete that was hurtling towards them and so many more people.  People kept almost stepping on her and crowding her vision of her parents and they moved before she could blink.  

Before she could even process what happened next, someone had picked her up and moved her away before quickly covering her eyes.  A few seconds later a loud crash was heard and the ground shook so hard she would have fallen over if the person hadn’t been keeping her upright.  Once the shaking was over the person that had rescued her picked her up, holding tightly onto her as they moved their hand up and the sound of something being shot through the air sounded just above her.

“It’s ok, I’ve gotcha.”

Said a deep gruff voice, though she could barely hear it as the cold wind whipped past her ears biting at her skin.  Her knee length pink dress hugged her legs as her brain refused to function and process the events that had just occurred.  She felt her feet touch solid ground, but her legs didn’t seem to want to hold her as her brain continued to stay offline.  She couldn’t think, couldn’t comprehend, and would the ringing in her ears just stop!  Where were her mama and papa?!  What happened to them?!  

It sounded like someone was trying to talk to her, but she was underwater and she couldn’t hear a thing, she couldn’t even see what was in front of her clearly.  Her entire body felt like it was weighted down, the pressure slowly crushing her.   She couldn’t even think, her brain was just too quiet and the ringing was too loud!  There was too much, too much noise, too much quiet, too much information yet not enough at all!  She kept going down deeper with nothing to ground her fleeting thoughts until she felt something heavy being placed around her shoulders.  Her eyes slowly began to register her surroundings and, after who knew how long, she was met with deep light teal eyes that were filled with worry.  Their face was obscured by a red mask, but she could still make out most of his features.  He had dark black hair with a white streak in it.  She didn’t know why this was important, all she knew was that she had to keep looking at him.  It was like if she looked away from him then everything would get all fuzzy again and she wouldn’t be able to think, and the ringing would take over her again even though it was still there!  Why can’t it stop, just make it stop, she wanted her mama and papa!  Where were they?!

“Hey, things will be ok.”

The masked man gently stated.  He kept eye contact with her, watching her to make sure she didn’t start to hyperventilate and that she wouldn’t go into shock.  He carefully pulled the jacket around her full body, carefully pulling her limp and dysfunctional arms into the jacket’s large sleeves.  He gave her a small reassuring smile while smoothing out the sleeves on the jacket, pressing the warmth of it onto her.  “Can you hold onto this for me?  I’ll be right back, ok?”

She simply nodded her head and held onto the jacket tightly like it was a lifeline.  He slowly grabbed a helmet that was on the ground near his legs and put it on.  “Don’t move ok, you’re safe now.”

He looked back at her then ran and jumped off…., oh, she was on a roof.  When did she get on a roof?  She hadn’t noticed.  She stood completely still, her mind causing the cacophony of noises to fade in and out.  She could hear screams and bangs, then nothing.  She could hear fighting and laughter, then the ringing came back.  The sounds often came close to the roof she was on; the fear of it made her legs so weak she eventually collapsed onto her knees as she clutched the jacket tighter than before.  Eventually her brain finally seemed to grasp the reality around her causing tears to start falling down her cheeks and sobs escaped her lips.  Her parents were dead, she was rescued, but th-they’re d-de-dead!  

Sobs wracked her small frame as the noises continued on for she doesn’t even know how long.  Every time there was a noise louder than the rest she pulled the jacket even tighter around her small body expecting the worst.  She wanted to escape, she wanted to hug her parents, she just wanted to go back home to Paris.  She wanted to go back to the bakery and eat the desserts her parents made, see Nino and Kim and play games with them, she wanted to go to the pretty gardens at the park and lay with the flowers.  

They were supposed to be happy, they were happy when they saw the pretty fishies, they were happy when they saw the amazing artifacts in the museum, papa had held her on his shoulders so she could see the giraffes better when they had taken her to the zoo.  Everything had been so perfect, why did everything change so fast?  Why did her mama and papa have to leave her like this?  Why was there no rain when such a terrible tragedy had just occurred like in the movies?

There was a soft thump that made her wrap the jacket even tighter, if that was even possible.  She didn’t want to get hurt, she just wanted her parents back.  “Hey, thanks for holding onto that for me.”

The man from before said.  She looked up, her eyes watery, making his figure blurry.  She saw him take off the helmet and set it down.  He looked sad and remorseful as he slowly sat next to her, but never reached out to touch her, instead remaining a comfortable presence.  “You from here?”

She slowly shook her head no.  “P-Paris.”

Her voice was cracked and broken.  Her parents had her study English with her French studies because of all of the tourists that came by.  Not to mention Mama said that if she wanted to be famous then she had to know English.  How would she get back to Paris?  Who would take her?  How was she supposed to survive without her mama and papa?!  She couldn’t, she needed them, now they’re gone and she’ll die here because she has nothing without them.  

“Paris is a nice place.  Have any friends there?”

She nodded again, the movement causing the drops on her cheek to drip onto the ground.  He stayed silent, waiting to see if she would do or say anything further.  She was glad he let her take her time, she was tired and her brain was still too loud and fuzzy to really understand his questions immediately.  Dejectedly she replied,  “N-Nino and K-Kim are my friends.  Th-they stand up t-to Chloe f-for me.  Everyo-one else is too scared of her an-and her daddy.”

He reached out to touch her, but quickly pulled back.  He wanted to comfort the small child, but he wasn’t sure how she would respond if he touched her.  She looked so small curled up in his jacket, it would have been cute if it weren’t for the circumstances that led to the scene in front of him.  “Sounds like you’ve got some good people lookin’ out for ya.”

He said, trying to sound reassuring.  She gave a small smile and nodded, “Y-yea.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere safe.  I know someone who will take care of ya for a bit, okay?”  Red Hood asked carefully.  She nodded again and was about to take her arms out of the sleeves of the warm jacket, but before she could fully take it off the man stopped her.  “Keep it, I’ve got a lot of others back home, and this is gonna keep you safe, ok?”

She nodded slowly, letting him adjust and zip it up so the warmth that still lingered in it was all around her.  He slowly stood up, projecting his movements so as to not scare her before he extended his hand for her to take.  She looked at it hesitantly, slowly reaching out and taking hold of his hand as she wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her free arm.  Her hand was so small that when he closed his her entire hand was encompassed by his own. He gently pulled her back onto her feet making sure she was stable before letting go.  “Hop on my back and hold on tight, ‘kay?”

He said softly–just like her mom used to when she was hurt–crouching down with his back facing her so she could climb on.  With a brief moment of hesitation, because what if this was a trap like Mama and Papa had warned her about, she carefully climbed onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck and gripped onto his shirt.  It was a bit hard as there seemed to be something hard sewn into parts of it, but it was okay.  He slowly got up and made sure her legs were wrapped tightly around his torso so she wouldn't slip or fall off.  When he was sure she was secure, he grabbed something from one of his pockets, angled it.  There was a loud bang, like the one she had heard when he had first grabbed her, though that memory felt like it was from so many years ago, that startled her accompanied by a whiz as it shot into the air.  He pulled on the device he was using to make sure it was taught and secure, then he ran and jumped off the building.  

Marinette screamed in fear and buried her face into his shoulder, holding him even tighter than before.  She kept her eyes shut, feeling out the rhythm of run, jump, fall, swing.  Eventually she started to feel a little more comfortable swinging through the air, that was until they started to fall again.  She screamed again louder than the time before and heard the noise of the man’s device again before she felt the taut jolt that signified they were soaring through the air once more.  Slowly, she tilted her head up and saw how amazing the city looked with all of its shining lights so high up in the sky with the setting sun sinking behind the tall buildings.  Wasn’t it just past 13:00 though?  She had just eaten lunch with her mama and papa; hadn’t she…?

Suddenly the lights weren’t as amazing as they were before, they were dull and full of sorrow and loss.  She didn’t want to look down just in case she saw them, they wouldn’t look the same.  She didn’t want to look down because then she might fall, and she didn’t want to fall.  Heights have always been scary.  She held onto the man tighter, scared that if she loosened her grip even the smallest amount, she’d fall.

They continued on in that fashion for a few minutes when the man with the red helmet set her down on a balcony.  It was plain with a swirled black metal guard.  The roof was bland and lifeless with nothing decorating it other than the fence, she didn’t like it.  “I’ve got a friend here.  He’ll watch over you for a while, okay?”  She nodded slowly, unsure of whether she should be relieved someone would take her in or scared that this was all some sort of trap.  She watched and listened as the man climbed down a fire escape and began to tap on a window.

Tap

…

Tap tap

…..

Tap tap tap

Then he stepped back and waited.  Another man with red hair opened the window with a small smile, “What’s up Hood?” He asked in a casual voice.

“I need you to watch someone for me.”

The red-haired man raised a brow.

“Her parents didn’t make it in the last battle with Joker.  Lots of debris, and I don’t feel like having serial-adopter-bats see her.”

“Makes sense.  Where are they?” The other man asked with a small nod, looking around the escape.  The man in the helmet held up one finger and climbed back up to her.  

“Can you come with me please?”

Marinette gulped, unsure of what she should do.  But the man has been really nice to her so far, and he’s even letting her keep his jacket.  Slowly she reached out and took his offered hand, letting him help her down the fire escape to the window.

“Hey,”

The other man said in a soft tone,

“What's your name?”

She looked down, anxiously twirling her foot from side to side.  “M-Marinette.”  She replied quietly, voice strained.

“That’s a nice name, how old are you?”  His voice was soft and gentle and it made her feel a little more at ease.

“Nine.”

“Wow, you’re pretty old, huh?  I’m Roy, do you want to come in and eat something?  I just finished making some sandwiches.”  She looked back at the man that had brought her here and saw him give her a small nod.  She nodded back and shyly followed the red haired man into the apartment building.  “Do you want some water?”

She nodded again, standing near the island counter.  She looked back at the window where the man in the helmet had been only seconds before, only to see that he was no longer there.  The man nodded and quickly got a cup from a cupboard and filled it with some tap water before placing it on the counter near her with a small plate that held what looked like BLT.  “I have a roommate, he should come by soon.  Just as a heads up, ok?”

She nodded, carefully climbing up to the barstool and sat down.  Marinette looked at the sandwich and started picking at it.  She really wasn’t that hungry, but it would be rude to not accept her host's hospitality.  Her mama had taught her the importance of respecting people that were trying to help her, especially when she was at her friend’s home.  Tears she thought she had run out of started to resurface as she thought of her mama.  She sniffled and wiped her eyes before more could escape.  

Roy looked at her worriedly.  From what he had read from the text Jason had sent him, her parents were caught by falling debris from one of Joker’s bombs that the bats hadn’t been able to dismantle in time.  He had been able to pull her away, but her parents along with a bunch of other civilians weren’t able to make it out of the way in time.  Jason said that he had managed to cover her eyes and take her away before she could see anything, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough to stop any type of trauma from forming.  

The girl was so small, he could only imagine what must be going through her mind.  Not to mention she was only visiting from Paris, she wasn’t even from Gotham.  Apparently her parents were catering for one of Bruce’s events, and that was the only reason they had even traveled here in the first place.

“Hey, do you want to watch a movie?  I’m sure we could find something you’d like.”  She didn’t respond right away as she processed what he had asked. It didn’t matter though, he’d give her all the time she needed.

“R-Ratatouille?”  Was her small reply.  A smile graced his lips, as he asked,

“Is that your favorite Disney movie?”  She shrunk in on herself and nodded with a small, 

“Mhm.”

“That’s a great movie, let me ask Jason to pick it up when he comes back.  He should be here soon anyways.”

“Okay.”  

Her voice was so quiet, but he could hear the joy in her voice.  He quickly texted Jason to pick up the movie when he was done debriefing with The Bats and started to make another sandwich since she was eating his, not that he minded of course.  

•         •         •

Jason walks in with a bag full of gummy candy, popcorn, a box of different flavored macaroons, and one Disney movie in its unopened case and plastic wrapping.  He was thankful to see that the small girl was sitting at the counter drawing.  He wouldn’t know what to do if she were still crying.  “Hey, heard we’re takin’ care of another kid?  I bet Lian will be happy to have a new friend when she comes back from her sleepover.”

He called out into the apartment as if he had no idea what had happened only a few hours before.  The little girl startled from her seat, quickly turning to look at him with her large bluebell eyes.  He really needed to keep her away from Bruce, she was perfect Wayne material and he refused for her to be tainted by him and the rest of his adopted child army.

“Yea, Red Hood dropped her off due to….”  He glanced at the girl sympathetically, “The incident that happened earlier.”

Marinette shifted uncomfortably and went back to drawing with a furrowed brow.  There was a heavy silence that filled the room until Jason said, “Well, I bought a bunch of snacks and was told to buy a movie, so….”

Marinette looked up again and hopped off the chair nearly tripping.  She quickly stood up embarrassed as both boys stared at her in worry.

“You okay Marinette?”  Roy asked carefully, walking towards her.  Her cheeks turned a slight red as she nodded.

“Y-yes, sorry.  I’m really clumsy.”  Her voice held a French accent that only made the little girl even more adorable.  Jason gave her a wide smile and gently handed her the plastic grocery bag.  

“Here you go.”

She carefully took the bag with a small, “Thank you”, and started to look through it.  Her eyes shined with childlike glee at the macaroons and they shined even brighter when she pulled out the blue-ray disk.  She quickly ran over to Roy and showed him the movie asking if he could put it into whatever he uses.  

It was interesting to see Roy smile and ruffle her hair.  He looked calm and happy, used to the role of caretaker.  Gently he took the disk, removed the plastic before opening it up, and walked over to the TV in the main room next to the kitchen and popped the disk in. 

“Hey, I’ll go grab some blankets.  Do you want to take your shoes off Marinette?”  He asked gently as he moved toward the linen closet.  She nodded and slipped them off with a slightly flushed face.  She watched as Roy sunk down on the couch where he patted at one of the seats.  Cautiously she walked toward the coach sitting in a rocking chair a few feet away from Roy.  You could never be too cautious, at least that’s what her mama used to say.  “Used to”, that felt wrong. 

When Jason walked back into the room he watched as the small girl hugged her legs close to her chest, face hidden behind her arms.  It was a heartbreaking sight, a sight that felt familiar as it pulled against his heartstrings as he remembered doing the same thing around the same age. 

“Thanks Jaybird.”  Roy whispered as he took the blankets from his hands.  He hadn’t even noticed that he was approaching.  He was out of it today, and not in a good way.  The opening narration of Remmy the Rat began to play through the speakers as Roy slowly and carefully wrapped a weighted blanket around the young girl's shoulders.  He watched as Roy talked to her quietly for a few moments, never initiating touch, waiting to see what she would say or do.  It was always interesting to watch Roy act like a father as he treated his kid far differently than either of his dads had treated him.  After a few minutes Roy stepped away, back to his spot on the couch not saying another word as the young girl collected herself before looking up to watch the movie with tear soaked cheeks that stabbed at Jason’s heart.

•         •         •

It was around the middle of the movie that little Mari fell asleep.  She had slowly begun to relax as the movie progressed until she had blinked a few times very slowly, then her eyes fell and stayed shut. She was emotionally exhausted from the day and had simply passed out, poor kid.

Jason watched the kid, but not in a weird way.  He was worried, and he didn’t know what to do.  The kid was stuck here, despite the fact that she’s not a citizen, and from what little information he could find with little time at his disposal, he couldn’t find any family that could take her now that she was an orphan.  Jason wondered if this was how Bruce felt when he had met all of them before he decided to make them his little band of misfit toys.  He often felt this way when he saw Lian, but it was never as strong of an emotion as he felt now for this child he had only met a few hours ago.

“You look constipated; which means you’re trying a failing to show some form of deep emotion.  So spit it out, what’s going on in that thick skull of yours?”

Roy asked quietly, turning his head slightly to give him a side eye before turning back to the movie.  Jason rolled his eyes and let out a long frustrated sigh.  “I don’t know Roy.  There’s just a lot going on, especially after the last attack.”

Roy quickly paused the movie and turned to look Jason in his eyes.  There wasn’t any pity in his gaze, but there was empathy and an openness that showed he wouldn’t judge.

“It was Joker’s fault.  So many people died because of the Joker, her parents,” he firmly gestured to the sleeping girl with tear stained cheeks sleeping on the small chair, whisper yelling so as to not wake her; “are no longer alive because of his actions today and Bruce still won’t get rid of him.”  Jason took in a deep shuddering breath, he needed to control himself, he couldn’t let the green creep in.  That wouldn’t do anything, it wouldn’t do any good for anyone, especially right now.

“I’ve tried to kill him,”  Jason admitted shakily, “I’ve tried, but he always finds a way to stop me.  I don’t understand how he cares for that-that creature more than his own- than me.”  A heavy silence fell between them only broken up by the gentle snores to their right.  

“I don’t want her to feel this way, I don’t want her to go through the same pain I went through at her age.”  Jason continued.  When I was trying to find out any information on her, a potential family member that could take her home I found that her grandmother on her dad’s side died in a motorcycle accident, her grandfather died of a heart attack, on her mom’s side it looks like her mother was disowned for unknown reasons, which means that they probably would not take in her daughter.  That leaves her with Social Services, and despite Bruce’s efforts I still don’t trust it; or as a street kid.”

Roy contemplated everything that Jason had just told him.  They had been through a lot together, in fact Jason and Star were the reasons that he was still alive, the reason he believed that he was doing a good job at being a father, they helped him keep going when everyone else had given up on him.  Roy glanced at the sleeping girl, then back to Jason.  Jason looked at the girl the same way Roy looked at his own daughter, with a sort of protective love.  Roy could tell that Jason cared about the kid; he probably saw himself Marinette.  It only made sense that he would feel extra protective around the girl as no one would want the same trauma that you’ve faced placed onto another.  

“Well, what do you think is the best thing to do Jason?  I know for a fact that you’re not going to be letting Bruce or any of the other bats, besides maybe Oracle, anywhere near her.  If what you say is true, and she really has no family that will willingly take her in, then what’s your plan?”

Another sigh escaped Jason as he leaned his head back so that it was hanging off the couch. “I don’t know Roy, maybe we can drop her off in Metropolis and let her be taken care of there.  They have a better system and I’m sure she would  be adopted by someone that would love her.”

Roy nodded, he could see the good in the plan, but there was something else.  Jason was still frustrated and didn’t like the idea.  “But?”  He prodded.

“‘But’,” Jason said emphasizing the ‘t’, “the thought of doing that makes my skin crawl in all of the wrong ways.”

Roy hummed.  This isn't some easy or light hearted task.  The kid had just lost both of her parents in the most sudden way possible, then she was taken away from the area and to the house of complete strangers, and to top it off she may never be able to return to her home country; but if she does she would be put into the foster system with no stability ot time to heal.  Of course she also had the possibility of being taken in by her grandparents in China, but there was a chance that they would treat her poorly since they had disowned her mother, and they may only take her in because of obligation.  Nothing about this was easy, none of it was simple.  If Jason wanted to somehow become her legal guardian then he would need to earn her trust, he would have to either legally become alive again or find a believable identity that would allow for him to adopt her.  

There were just so many variables, and it was too late for this conversation, yet not late enough.  

“Lian’s coming home tomorrow, we can figure this out while they play.”

Jason nodded, mostly to himself.  “You’re right.  We need to give her more time to process everything, I still need to process today.”

“Did you have a panic attack?” Roy asked worriedly.  Now that he was thinking about it there must have been lots of explosions, even if most of them were disabled.  Then there was the clown and how he just paraded around on the rooftops.  Jason had had a few before when he returned back to the apartment after a Joker breakout, it was horrifying.  Jason just gave him a sad, strained smile.

“No, thankfully.”

“Right,”  Roy said as he slowly stood up, stretching his arms up dramatically. “Well let's move her to Kori’s room tonight.  She’s still visiting Tamaran.”

Jason nodded, following suit.  Slowly he approached the sleeping girl, televising his movements despite the fact that she was still asleep before gently picking the girl up.  Roy watched with a gentle smile as he slowly walked to Kori’s room, trying not to wake her as he brought her to bed.  He had watched Jason do the same thing with Lian, playing the role of older brother perfectly.  Now, it looked like he might be stepping into a new role.  The same role that Roy carried right now.  But who knew what would happen.  As Roy settled in for the night in his own room a sudden thought came to his mind.  Jason was always complaining how Bruce had a “type” or MO for the people he really cared about; and that was that they needed to have black hair and/or blue eyes.  The girl that Jason saved and now is attached to has black hair and…blue eyes.  He quickly turned into his pillow and started laughing his butt of, hoping that no one would be able to hear him.  A couple tears slipped down his cheeks as he thought to himself, ‘so it’s a learned trait after all.’

Taglist:

@maribat-secret-santa @aespades @adrestar @astrynyx @doll246 @queenz-z @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @seraphichana @miraculous-ninjabird @dorkus-minimus @mysticsoulgirl @ritacrow-blog @snow-leopard-777 @fidget-eep @sometandomstuff333 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @shreeing @achaoticmess1 @miraculous-ninjabird @liquid-luck-00 @buginetye @stainedglassm @prettylittlebutterflie @laurcad123 @iloontjeboontje @heartsong18 @raeuberprinzessin @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @jennifer-rose123 @moon5608 @corporeal-terrestrial @skitarii-alpha-c6-555 @saltysugarysembei @phantom120 @kking13 @depressed-bitchy-demon @a-slytherinish-gryffindor

[autisticlancemcclain]

secret santa for @leenfiend

“And you two…”

Shiro turns to look at them both, eyes narrowed, hand on his hip. Even being half-held up by Allura, Keith wants to straighten up on reflex, dust off his armour, stand at attention. He breaks away from the heavy stare, glancing over at Lance, only to find him already looking. He sneers when Keith makes eye contact, and in seconds they’re turning away from each other, scowling.

“Yeah,” Shiro sighs, looking down at his comm. “Yeah, I gotta do something about you two.”

———

The something, it turned out, was busywork.

Keith thinks he might strangle his brother. Keith knows he and Lance have been…difficult, the past few weeks — although for the life of him he could not tell you why — but sending them on some stupid mission that was so clearly just meant to waste time was just insulting.

Keith huffs, looking at the mission file again.

MISSION FILE: 24-62-XC

OBJECTIVE: find bananas. or something i dunno

PERSONEL: idiot a and idiot b. shiro said to erase that and write your names but your bickering has been driving me insane so no. suffer

LOCATION: Kunedg-12-2

DANGER LEVEL: none unless you kill each other lol

He reminds himself to mess around on Pidge’s laptop the next time she leaves it unsupervised. This whole stupid file is embarrassing, but the disrespect of the mission objective has to be the worst part. She couldn’t even bother pretending to come up with one.

“Could you maybe go brood somewhere else?” Lance snarks, startling him out of his thoughts. He lifts a delicate hand off the joystick to pinch his nose like something reeks. “Your emo-ness is throwing off my vibe and your angsty sweaty hormones are stinking up the place. Maybe go sit near the garbage shoot, or something.”

Keith bites back a growl, fists clenching at his side. “I smell fine.”

“Like finely chopped onions, maybe. Yuck.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

Discreetly, Keith lifts up his arm and takes a whiff. He scowls harder — he smells like the same space brand deodorant they all use. Lance is just being a dick for no reason, like he always is, like what got them into this stupid mess in the first place.

“Just — land the damn Lion, Lance. Try not to kill us.”

Even though he was trying to be insulting, Keith regrets it as soon as he says it. Lance’s back goes ramrod straight, like he was zapped with Pidge’s bayard, and the temp in the cockpit drops thirty degrees.

“Lance —”

“Do not even attempt to finish that sentence,” he hisses. His hands wrapping around the controls are slow and deliberate. His shoulders are straight as a ruler.

Keith sighs, tipping his head back and letting it thunk on the back of the chair. He should’ve — goddamn it. He’s not sure what he should have done, but they might as well turn around now and go back to everyone else. They could stay on this planet for days, now, and Lance won’t so much as look at him. Keith is sure of it.

“Better hold tight. Might slip on the control and oops! Mercy me. I’m so clumsy and careless, I might just kill us.”

The Blue-turned -Red Paladin accompanies every biting remark with a sharp jerk of the thrusters, shaking the whole lion around. Red must be happy to help, because the smoothness that Keith knows should usually accompany her movements is nowhere to be found — she’s letting Lance yank them around to his heart’s content. Keith doesn’t have much of a connection to her anymore, but he can almost feel the impression of her snapping her tail in indignation.

He grits his teeth, determined not to give Lance the satisfaction of reacting. Even as they do nauseating barrel roll after barrel roll, even after Lance dives and dips like a crazy person, even after he lifts his hands off the controls and lets them drop, totally free falling — Keith says nothing.

At least, not until he hears a soft, “Oh, shoot.”

“‘Oh shoot’ what?” he asks cautiously, knowing this might be a trap. If Lance bites back with oh, so you really don’t trust me to pilot!, Keith is genuinely going to stomp over there and strangle him.

“Um. So. Buckle up,” Lance says, and Keith has to bite back a scream of frustration.

Lance is no longer pulling wildly at the controls, intentionally driving like it’s the first time he’s seen an aircraft. His posture is careful and relaxed, shoulders loose and easily moveable. But his jaw is clenched, like he does when he’s stressed, and Keith begins to notice a flashing light in the corner of the stats display.

“Lance.”

“Everything is under control,” he says quickly.

“…Lance.”

“We’re not going to crash or anything,” he amends. “I didn’t — screw it up.”

He glances backwards, quickly meeting Keith’s eye, and Keith notices that his expression is pleading. Keith swallows the comment he wants to make and nods.

“But. Uh, the comm line to the team is cut off. Not sure why. Maybe the planet has bad signal? It was fine coming in. I’ll land and then we can investigate?”

It takes Keith a minute to realize that Lance is asking him. That Lance is looking at him to lead, as if Keith has ever ordered Lance around. As if it hasn’t been two ye — months. At least.

Keith clears his throat, looking away. “Yeah, dude. You’re piloting, your mission. Whatever you think is best.”

For once, Keith has said the right thing. The confirmation of control runs through Lance like a shiver, and a mix of confusion and relief and precious, precious hope flits through his dark eyes almost faster than Keith can register, then he’s turning back to face the control board.

“Cool. Hold on, there’s not much to land on here so it’ll be bumpy.”

It is bumpy. Honestly, Keith is surprised at how deftly Lance and Red land, for all he has to clench his hands around the armrests — this planet is truly just a thick nest of towering trees and curling vines. Lance has to slink Red between two trees and have her land curled around the base of one, because there just isn’t any space for her to touch down regularly.

“You managed not to kill us,” Keith tries, smiling.

Lance stares at him critically for a moment. Then, wonderfully, beautifully, miraculously, his expression clears, and he decides Keith is being genuine. The tiniest of smiles turn up his own lips, and he shrugs.

“Well, duh. I’m the best pilot out of the two of us, after all. Let’s go.”

He’s out the door before Keith can retort — maybe something along the lines of you literally ruin every single bonding moment we have ever had you actual twerp-brained fucker — and Keith is quick to follow. Any attempt at dialogue dies on his tongue the second he’s exposed to the outside air — and the wall of wet heat that slams into him like a bull stampeding in the wrong direction.

“Jesus H Christ on a one wheeled motorbike,” he wheezes. Every inch of his skin is immediately drenched in sweat. He’s never regretted his gloves more, and wishes with every fibre of his being that he’d actually listened to Shiro for once and worn his (temperature- controlled) paladin armour.

Lance ignores him, beam lighting up his face. “Oh, it’s beautiful here!”

Keith can actually feel his shirt cling to his back like a second skin. It’s disgusting.

“Huh?”

Because yeah, the planet might be pretty. It’s almost greener than Keith can comprehend – trees so tall Keith can’t even see the canopy; trunks covered in moss and vines; wide-leafed, curling bushes and plants; tropical flowers making the air smell sweet and fragrant. Keith watches as a gecko patters down a branch to rest in a patch of dappled sunlight. Pretty, sure.

But Keith is pretty sure he’s actually breathing in water. The air is so goddamn humid he’s not sure there’s actually any air in it, and he is sticky. Beautiful places are not sticky. 

Lance is already frolicking around like a goddamn nature fairy. He tugs off his jacket, tying it around his waist, but other than that he seems to revel in the humidity, breathing in deeply like he’s used to inhaling what is essentially gasified mist instead of air. He grins at the greenery like it’s familiar, despite the fact that they’ve never even glanced at this entire quadrant the entire time they’ve been in space, let alone this planet.

“You live to thrive wherever I do not,” Keith mutters, irrationally angry at Lance’s lack of suffering. He scowls at his back and says, louder, “We have a mission.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance dismisses, still in the trance-like glee. He twirls around to face a huge, fern like plant, reaching up to caress the leaves and pet the back of a beetle. “You and I both know it’s busywork.“

“Yeah, well, it’s an official mission and we’re Paladins of Voltron, so. Personally I take that pretty seriously.”

It’s a low blow, as bad or worse as his piloting comment earlier. He winces as soon as he says it – Jesus, when did he start trying to piss Lance off – but luckily Lance doesn’t hear or doesn’t care, already twenty feet down some random path. Keith groans quietly and stomps after him.

Ten minutes ago, Lance could have suggested they turn around and leave and Keith would’ve been on-board. Now, as stupid as it is, Lance’s delight in this planet annoys him. It’s not fair that he’s amusing himself, and Keith is miserable. They’re supposed to both be miserable.

Somehow, though, he manages to keep his commentary to himself. Part of it is watching as Lance seems to…glow, on this planet, as strange as that is to notice. The giant smile has not left his face, and the yellow sunlight trickling through the leaves looks good on him. He hums as he walks, dancing under bent branches, even refraining from holding them back so Keith can get through and waiting until Keith is just barely past before snapping the branch back so Keith gets smacked in the face. And that’s one of his favourite hobbies.

He must be in a really good mood, if he’s not finding an excuse to smack Keith.

“Can we find some stupid fruit or something and get out of here,” Keith complains, finally having had enough. Have they actually been hiking for hours? Keith feels like he’s been hiking for hours. He feels like he’s seen the same eight plants nine hundred times. Everything has coalesced into a sea of green and he’s hot, goddamnit, and he’s never regretted an all-black ensemble more in his life. Maybe he listens to Shiro next time. Well, unlikely, but –

Something smacks him in the face, and he yelps. 

He bends down to grab the weapon, seething as he hears Lance’s snickering, and comes up with some kind of round, firm…thing.

“Fruit,” Lance supplies. “Feel free to head back to Red. You go back to the others and they’ll send your ass right back, catboy. You know as well as I do.”

Keith knows this. Of course he does. But it pisses him off that Lance is so blase about it, like Keith doesn’t know, that he clenches the fruit-thing in his fists and actually does stomp back to Red, leaving Lance to take a hike. 

“God he is so annoying,” he mutters to no one, aggressively biting the fruit. It’s delicious, which only serves to make him angrier. He puts on a high, mocking voice. “You go back to the others and they’ll send you back, blah blah blah. As if I don’t know that. As if I’m dumb.”

It’s relieving to get back into Red’s interior. It’s not exactly AC, but it certainly isn’t humid central, and any break from that heat is a welcome one. He sits heavily in the pilot’s chair, relishing in the familiarity of it, and sulks.

Or, well, he tries to.

The thing about sulking is that it gets very boring very quickly. That’s why he usually expresses his sulking through incredible violence, and why he misses the castle’s training room so much. That place was great. All Keith had to do was press a button and boom, he was being attacked. The literal dream.

Bored, he swings his legs over the armrest, opening his bayard and examining it. It’s weird to have such a contentious thing. Knowing all the blood it spilled in Zarkon’s name…it’s no wonder that his brother was so quick to get rid of it. But still, it’s a tool. A tool cannot be blamed for its master’s action, that much Keith had learned in the Blades.

He lets the blade glow and shrink in his hold until its back in its dormant position. He can’t very well train in here, as much as he would like to. Both Red and Lance would kill him, probably. 

Red makes a keening noise in his head. It’s the loudest he’s heard from her in…too long, and it startles him.

“What?”

Her presence in his head gets stronger, more insistent.

“What?” he repeats, sitting straight up. “What, girl, what’s going on?”

He yelps as the floor shifts under him – Red stands up, unwinding herself from around the tree. A growl reverberates through the entire ship, making the control board vibrate. A bad feeling begins to take root somewhere in his stomach.

“Red?! Red, what’s –”

Before he can finish, she opens her great maw, and literally spits him out. She doesn’t leave him time to get offended, nudging him forward the second he gets to his feet. She growls again when he looks back at her, tilting her head at the path Lance disappeared down.

All at once, Keith gets it.

He sprints. Bayard elongating in his hand, he runs as fast as he can, hacking away branches and vines with ease – when he chances a look down, he sees that it’s taken the form of a machete. His first bayard change.

He does not have time to celebrate it. 

He can barely hear it over the sound of his own pounding feet, but there’s a rumbling, somewhere in the distance. Keith has been hearing it for a while – he thought it was Red, or maybe just jungle noises.

Now, he hears the human voice responding to it.

Something is wrong.

“Please don’t be doing something stupid,” he prays, pushing himself faster. It’s not easy. Keith is in good shape, but the humidity is knocking the hell out of him – every breath feels like it’s getting half the oxygen it should. He’s tiring fast. But the noises are getting louder, closer, and yep, that’s definitely Lance’s voice. Keith isn’t exactly sure what he’s saying, but he knows the voice, of course he knows the voice, it’s the only one that never left his head once in two years. In a last burst of strength, he sprints toward the sound, slashing a near-solid block of vines. 

He slashes the last layer of vines back, thrusting forward, and very heroically lands on his face.

“Lance!” he shouts, jumping back to his feet. He whirls around, sure this is where he heard the growls interspersed with Lance’s murmuring. But he can’t see him anywhere.

“Here,” sighs a voice.

Keith looks up and barely chokes back a scream. 

Swinging from a vine, wrapped up to his neck in a cocoon of them, is Lance – but it isn’t a vine. It’s thick like one, and smooth, but bright white. And…gloopy, almost, because Lance is not wrapped in a bunch of vines but in strands and strands of silk, and perched on – or maybe clinging to – his swinging body is the biggest spider Keith has ever seen. 

“Get off him!” Keith yells, proud of himself for how little his voice shakes.

“Oh, great plan, Keith. Order the animal around. I’m sure it’ll heed your demands and cut me free.”

Keith flushes. “Shut up,” he hisses. “Victims of Miss Spider’s Sunny Patch Gone Wrong don’t get to snark!”

Lance shrugs. “You’re welcome to climb on up here and get me to shut up.”

As if in understanding, the spider hisses, scuttling down Lance’s body and lunging towards Keith, snapping its fangs. Keith shrieks and jumps back. Luckily, the spider doesn’t go past Lance’s head.

“She’s outta webs,” Lance explains. He doesn’t even flinch as the spider’s massive butt – spinnerets and all – rest on his forehead. Keith gags. “She won’t get too close to you, you’re too threatening –”

“I’m threatening?!”

“– so you’re in no danger. You can put the weapon away.”

“Put the weapon away – Lance, did it already suck out your brains?”

Lance glares hard at him. The effect is significantly lessened as the string of webbing he’s hanging from slowly turns, forcing his eyes away from Keith, and then also, well. The massive fuckin’ bug sitting on his forehead. So.

“No, she didn’t suck out my brains. She’s an animal, Keith, not dumb. Eating me would be stupid and a massive waste. I’m too big. I just freaked her out, is all. I should’ve been more careful in approaching her web.”

Keith places his face in his hands and yells. Just – screams, for a minute. He can’t believe he ever missed this asshole. He lived two blissful, blissful years without having to deal with any of this shit. 

And now, massive spiders. 

Great.

“I hate you,” Keith says. 

Lance nods, shrugging again. “Fair. Can’t leave without me, though.”

“I think I might. I’ll tell Allura you died tragically. Moment of silence, blah blah. Then I go home and have a lovely, quiet flight the whole time.”

“Hm, that won’t work. Hunk will be desolate. Inconsolable, I would even say.”

Keith sighs. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, matching Lance’s grin. He cannot believe his own brain’s betrayal, allowing itself to be amused by Lance’s stupid jokes. 

“What am I gonna do about the spider, Lance.”

At its – hers, whatever – name, it hisses again. Lance remains unphased. He wriggles a little, even, as if the sharp fangs aren’t inches away from his eyeballs.

“I’m working on it, gimme a sec.”

Keith aquieses. He wants to slash through the stupid binds and be done with everything, but he’s worried that the spider might be faster than he is and hurt Lance before he can get the chance. If he can just find a way to smack the spider off…

“Hm. I got an idea. Keith, grab my comm.”

Keith bites back a comment about who should be ordering whom around, edging gingerly around the hissing spider to scoop up Lance’s dropped comm. He clicks it on, tapping in Lance’s password – 3425, spelling D-I-C-K – and holding it loosely in his freehand.

“Got it.”

“Great. Okay, open my spider translator app.”

“Your – what.”

“Spider translator app,” Lance explains patiently. “Been working on it with Coran. Spiders communicate mostly via pheromones, but a lot of ‘em use clicks, especially threateningly. I remember how to say ‘hi’ and ‘no harm’, and I think I remember the sound for ‘food’? But I’m not sure and I don’t want to say ‘no harm food’ but accident, or something dumb like that, ‘cause then she might get the wrong idea. I’m hoping for something closer to ‘no food’ or ‘bad food’. I think she kind of gets it, but she’s still spooked. If I click at her she might think I’m another spider, let me go. If all else fails we’ll use the pheromones Coran and I have stored in Red’s shipping dock, but that stuff really reeks and doesn’t really wash out so I’d rather not.”

Keith’s head starts to hurt. Vaguely, he starts to wonder if he hit his head somewhere and is now dreaming, but unfortunately this brand of weird is pretty regular Lance. It’s just been a while since Keith has been in full force of it. 

Plus, Coran has clearly been enabling. 

“I have Seen Things,” Keith says, stabbing at the stupid comm. The app is front and centre. It is used more than the actual communication app, Keith knows that because he finds the stupid spider app in seconds and literally cannot find the communication app. He is going to kill this boy, the second he makes sure he’s safe. “So many things in space, Lance. So many of them horrible. So many of them strange. You remember the blob people that talked by pissing? I remember the blob people that talked by pissing. That is less weird than this, Lance.”

The translation app is pretty intuitive. Keith will give him that. He finds a translation for ‘bad food’ pretty quickly, but can’t read what it says for the life of him. He glances up, taking in the spider and the sheer fucking size of it, and slowly extends his hand so Lance can see the comm screen. His fingers tremble ever so slightly. 

Lance has to strain his neck slightly to see the screen. Keith resists the urge to yell. But he quickly makes a series of clicks and tongue-sounds, attracting even more of the spider’s attention. It stares at him with all eight of its eyes for several minutes.

Then it turns, scuttling slightly away from Lance’s face. Keith lets out a huge sigh of relief – too soon – as the spider sinks its fangs in Lance’s chest.

Keith screams.

“Will you chill out!” Lance scolds. Keith’s screams only get louder, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “She is eating the silk, Keith, Jesus, stop yelling! I’m fine!”

“I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you –”

In minutes there’s a thunk, and a muffled “Ow.” When Keith looks up, Lance is sprawled on the ground, rubbing his wrist, and the spider is nowhere to be found.

“Are you physically fucking capable,” he says slowly, “of just – not doing stupid shit? Like at all? Maybe once.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Lance retorts. He has a startling amount of dignity for someone with spider silk in his hair, still sat on the hard ground. “Your ass got stuck on the back of some whale for two years. Embarrassing.”

It is embarrassing, so Keith can’t retort. He makes a face and hopes it’s sufficient, but then Lance makes one right back, and he looks so fucking stupid in the fucking jungle and also kind of good for some reason and Keith’s heart is just barely slowing down, now, and his hands still shake and Lance just spoke fucking spider and Keith just.

He loses it, a little. 

He starts laughing and he can’t stop, and its so stupid, and he’s so fucking hot. His knees get weak and he’s landing on his ass, gasping for breath, Lance wheezing as he leans against Keith for support that he can’t even give. Who knows what other horrors lay in this stupid jungle – he and Lance are so loud they’re practically inviting them over – but Keith can’t stop for the life of him. His brain feels disconnected from his body. His stomach hurts so freaking badly. Every time he looks at Lance he loses it again. 

“Please take the fucking silk out of your hair,” he tries to say. Every word is interrupted by a wheezy giggle, so it doesn’t do much, but luckily Lance runs his hands through his hair anyways and it clings to his fingers instead. 

He calms, finally, keeping his attention on the strand of white silk, watching Lance’s thin fingers fiddle with it. He finally manages to calm down, too, taking huge breaths and trying to steady himself. 

“So,” Lance says when they can breathe again, “I’m sorry.”

“You should be, asshole. I thought you were gonna get eaten.”

“Oh, I’m not sorry about the spider. That was an honest misunderstanding.”

Keith sighs. For his own peace of mind, he convinces himself that Lance is joking. “What are you sorry for, then?”

Lance fiddles with the edge of his jacket. Keith notices, for the first time, that the tightly woven silk left red, raised welts around his skin. It must have been tight.

“I’ve been. A little. Standoff-ish. Perhaps.”

Keith snorts. “A little?”

“A lot,” Lance amends, smiling. He punches Keith’s shoulder. It is not gentle. “I missed you, Dropout. I didn’t expect to, and I didn’t like that I did. Misplaced aggression, all that.”

“You’ve matured remarkably in my absence,” Keith observes. He dodges Lance’s kick, but only barely. His smile hurts his face. “You’re almost, like…a real, functioning person now.”

“I take it back. You’re annoying. I didn’t miss you, all the letters I wrote you are a lie, in fact you can actually fuck right back off –”

Keith stills. “Letters.”

“– to the space whale, actually. See if I care.” Lance clears his throat. His face is getting steadily more flushed, and oh God it has nothing to do with the heat does it. “I don’t, in case that’s unclear –”

“Lance,” Keith says, a little more forcefully. Because – because oh God, this means. This means. “What do you mean, letters?”

“A new alphabet I came up with in my spare time,” Lance snaps, shoving Keith back and getting to his feet. “What do you think, you idiot.”

He tries to walk off, but Keith doesn’t let him. He wraps his hand around his wrist and tugs him back – too forcefully, accidentally, and Lance yelps as he stumbles right into Keith’s lap. Keith doesn’t stop him from moving frantically back, a little warm himself.

“Lance.” His tone is urgent. “Lance, I wrote you letters too.”

Finally, he stops squirming. “You did?”

“Yes. I don’t know if I can – I mean, I don’t have any here, but they’re stashed in Black, I couldn’t leave – oh.”

Lance’s lips are pressed to his.

Lance’s lips. 

Are pressed.

To his.

Lance is kissing him.

“Oh – oh.”

“Man, you really are an idiot.” 

His harsh words are significantly softened because they’re, y’know, mumbled into his mouth. Keith can’t quite bring himself to complain about that one, really, since Lance is warm but not suffocatingly slow and his mouth keeps curving into a smile and his lips are soft and. And. For once he’s too preoccupied to pick a real fight. 

Keith can live with him like this, he thinks.

“My letters.” Keith pulls away slightly, clearing his throat. “You can’t. Read them.”

Lance tilts his head. “Why?”

Embarrassed, Keith gestures between the two of them. “This didn’t – occur to me, Lance. So.”

A shit-eating grin curls across the Red Paladin’s face. “What didn’t occur to you, hot stuff?”

“You know,” Keith warns, glaring. His ears feel like they’re burning, and not just because of the stupid nickname. 

“I don’t!”

“You do, asshole, because you’re smirking like you do.” “No need to get presumptuous, Keithy. I simply do not understand. What didn’t occur to you –” he leans in again, breath tickling Keith’s neck and making him shudder – “me? Like…this? Close to you?” He presses a small kiss to the underside of Keith’s jaw. “...Liking you, maybe?” Keith’s breathing is embarrassingly heavy for what’s barely a little kissing. He tries desperately to get himself under control, but with Lance so, so close… “Or was it yourself you didn’t understand, hm? Wax a lot of poetic about me in those letters?”

Keith did. It’s true. He remembers one humiliating instance where he, in frustration of forgetting the details, tried to map out Lance’s face – the freckles that dot his nose, the shine of his brown eyes when he makes a perfect shot, the curve of his wide grin. He’s pretty sure ‘sparkling’ was used in description at least twice, which is…bad. 

In a last ditch effort, Keith gets his hands on Lance’s chest, lays his palms back, and shoves. When he’s flat on his back against the jungle floor, eyes wide and head tilted back to watch Keith’s face, Keith kisses him quiet. 

It works.

It works very well.

“Okay, we gotta – we gotta – not that this isn’t great, it is, but we gotta –”

Finally, Lance is the flustered one, the wordless one. Keith relishes in the feeling.

“Keith, get off, we –”

Finally, Lance succeeds in pushing Keith back. He rests on his heels, pouting (and subsequently ignoring the fact that he’s pouting, because, what kind of witchcraft).

“We have to go,” Lance says sternly. “Okay? We can – do this later. We gotta get back.”

Keith huffs. “They’re the ones who sent us away. They can deal for a few hours.”

“It’s been a few hours,” Lance reminds him. “Let’s just go, okay? Lots of excitement for one day.” He tilts his head back, smirking. “If we leave now I’ll set Red on autopilot and we can make out on the way back.”

Cold air in Red’s cockpit? Backdrop of stars and space? Somewhere to be that isn’t a jungle floor?

“Sold,” Keith says, hastily getting to his feet. The walk back to the Lion is the least complaining Keith has ever done about anything, even in his own head. 

Right before they walk into Red’s waiting and open mouth, Lance plucks a yellow, curved fruit from a tree. He tosses it to Keith, grinning widely.

“Mission accomplished.”

–––

happy holidays colleen :DD

[ohworm-writes]

「✰」 ━━ SECRET SANTA

PAIRING John Price x fem!reader (?) x Simon "Ghost" Riley

RATING R - Restricted [Content warnings: 18+ mdni, personalized fic (reader name provided and utilitzed), f!sub!reader, dom!Price, dom!Ghost, polyship, polyamorous relationship dynamics, the icing is supposed to look like cum... I don't know what else to tell you, minimal cursing, nipple play, brief fingering]

SYNOPSIS My submission for @bunnyreaper's organized secret santa event for @bookobsessedram. I do genuinely hope that you enjoy it, Aqua - I was super excited to get you, and it was a challenge to keep my mouth shut throughout the entirety of this event because I was so excited. Hope you enjoy!

WORD COUNT 2.3k

The icing packet feels cool in your hands, both held steady as you carefully squeeze it, applying just enough pressure that a steady stream of white pushes out. The vanilla icing drags carefully along the surface of the shortbread cookie, the line you’re focused on making as straight as it can be, the task more difficult than it looks.

Your teeth gently bite down onto your tongue as it protrudes from your mouth, eyes narrowed into a concentrated glare, focused solely on the task at hand - icing the cookies you had brought out of the oven a little over fifteen minutes ago, give or take. The process takes a considerable amount of patience and focus, both of which you have an abundance of.

The same can’t exactly be said for your boyfriends.

“C’mon, Em, leave the rest for the mornin’.” Simon huffs out, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his head cocked to the side, lifted barely an inch above his shoulder as he watches you from his place behind you leaned against the kitchen countertop beside the sink. His voice is rough, gravely, a twang of lighthearted, faux  annoyance present and he urges you to give it a rest.

He’s dressed in a loose, baggy black t-shirt with joggers to match, blond strands of hair messy and tousled, courtesy of the time he’s spent all day running around buying last-minutes ingredients for you. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest, though - especially not when it means he’ll be able to enjoy the treats alongside you and John once they’re complete. 

Speaking of, the captain in question lets out a low hum, agreeing with Simon’s comment.

“He’s right, love. You’ve been at it all day. You can pick it back up in the mornin’, yeah?”

He encourages, trying a different approach to have you call it quits. He, unlike Simon whose spending his time doing nothing but watching you work, tasks himself with washing the dishes that remain stacked haphazardly in the sink, the front of his form-fitting tee dampened with a mixture of water and soap as he works to scrub and rinse the dishes. 

His eyes flicker to Simon for a moment, lips gliding over the skin of his teeth as his eyes narrow slightly, putting back down the bowl he was rinsing in the sink with one hand, his other reaching over to grab a hand towel and tossing it towards Simon, the fabric making a soft thump as it collides with his chest. Simon catches it before it can fall, giving him a silent look of confusion. 

John’s eyes flicker between Simon’s, the towel, and the clean, wet dishes that stack on the drying rack before turning back to washing the dishes, allowing Simon to come to his own conclusions with a huff with a subtle roll of his eyes - playful in nature, of course - as he starts on with his task of drying the dishes. 

Though, even with both of their urgings and encouragement, you refuse to step away from your work for the hundredth time, both to John and Simon’s detriment. Instead of listening, you continue to work on the little snowman you’ve been focused on making - surprisingly, even with only white, vanilla frosting at your disposal, looks extremely good and well detailed. 

“I’ve only got like… a few more left to do. Makes no sense leaving it to the morning when I can just finish it now. Besides, I wouldn’t want to leave Mark all by himself - I’ve got to finish his friends.”

John lets out a choked laugh, snorting as his shoulders shaking, gently biting down onto his bottom lip as a means to try and stifle his own amusement while Simon takes it upon himself to connect the dots. There’s a pause for few beats between the three of you, filled with nothing but running water and dishware being settled into the drying rack, only to be picked up by Simon.

“Did you name the bloody biscuit Mark, Em?”

A few giggles pass through your own lips, back still to the two men behind you, though shaking all the same as you laugh to yourself. John’s not much different, coughing and clearing his throat in a poor attempt to stop himself from breaking out into his own fit of laughter. Simon rolls his eyes with a huff, an amused smirk spreading out across his lips.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell. Children, the both of ya’.”

His words only spur you on further, detaching yourself from the cookies, bringing on of your hands up to your mouth as you gently bite down onto your fist, giggling. Your other hand, still holding the icing packet, squeezes, applying more pressure than you intended for it to, causing for the white icing to splurt out messily from the top, dripping down the plastic, coating your palm and fingers in the process.

The idiocy of the situation only makes you harder, eyes crinkling with amusement as you let out a snort. Though, as much as you find entertainment in the situation, Simon - whose had a front-row seat in witnessing your antics - is more focused on the way the white, sticky frosting clings to your skin, slowly beginning to melt and becoming thinner in consistency.

His hands slow with their work drying off the dishes, the towel held in one of his hands coming to hang loosely in the air while the other holds tightly onto a ceramic bowl, his eyes narrowed as he watches you. John, sensing Simon’s faltering and loss in focus, turns his attention briefly over to him, pursing his lips softly.

His voice comes out into the space between the two of them, barely louder than a whisper - though, it’s not like there’s any use in whispering, given the way you’re losing your mind in your own amusement is loud enough to drown out any normal-level voiced conversation.

“Si-”

“Look at her hands.”

Simon quickly cuts him off, jutting his chin out slightly, turning his head back as he straightens out his own posture, nostrils flaring as he rolls his shoulders back. With a roll of his eyes, John moves his head, peeking over his shoulder to look behind him, eyes softening as they land on your face first, the joy etched into it, before they trail down to your palms.

“Fuck me.”

He mumbles out, teeth gritted as his own hands match Simon’s as they still. The hot water continues to run in the sink, his hands free as they rest beneath the stream. He swallows thickly, eyes flickering to Simon’s for just a moment - it isn’t hard to catch the hunger that lingers in his gaze - before moving right back to your hands.

You, however, are so completely and utterly oblivious to how the sight of the sticky, white icing, continuing to thin as the cool glaze keeps continued contact with your heated skin, affects both of your boyfriends. The way it smears against the packet and your palms, leaving a string behind from where it sticks between the two points, awfully familiar to a certain other liquid.

So, it’s no wonder you have no clue how it affects either of them when you bring your palm up to your mouth, tongue darting out to press against it and licking a hot, wet stripe upwards, catching quite a lot of it on your tongue. Washing and drying the dishes are a task completely forgotten, both Simon and John’s eyes focused solely on you, even if you don’t realize it yet.

Simon lets out a grunt, John a stifled groan, all while you focus on licking your hand clean.

You’re so focused on licking your fingers completely clean, though, tongue passing over every inch of skin near them that you can reach, that you completely miss the way that some of the frosting has dripped down to your wrist, a stream traveling to and gathering there, before a sizeable glob it falls, splattering messily against your chest.

It falls just below your collarbones, starting to leave a trail down between the valley between your tits. The shirt you have on is fairly low cut, so it’s easy to see the process as it happens, much of your upper chest already exposed to the air. You purse your lips slightly, working to clean off the rest of your hand before moving your hand.

You intentions are fully set on picking it up with your finger, dragging it up a trail and licking it off. However, a rough, worn, warm palm stops you, gently grabbing onto your wrist as a means to halt your actions - though, the tenseness of it’s hold is unmistakable, challenging that forced gentleness it holds.

“I got it.”

You don’t even know when Simon moved away from the counter and towards you, but before you can fully process it, much less protest his actions, he’s already moving you, gently urging you a step or two backwards as he takes your old place, standing in front of you as he looks down, brown eyes, once so warm and light, darkened with lust.

His eyes remain focused solely on you, hand moving from your wrist, up your arm, before settling on the side of your neck, gently tilting it back, though far enough that you can still see him as he bends downwards. His stocky form leans into you, hot breath ghosting over your skin as his own tongue peeks out past his lips, licking up the sweet icing onto his tongue.

As his tongue cleans you up, Price’s footsteps fall just audible enough that you can barely hear them, therefore not surprising you as his hands find purchase on your hips, his lips pressing a tender kiss to the base of your neck, letting a breath out through his nostrils that fans out along your skin.

He gently nips at the skin, chuckling lowly, the sound erupting from deep within his chest as he moves to rest his head atop your shoulder, looking down and watching Simon, just as you are, as he licks the sticky icing clean from your skin, holding you firmly in place so that the blond can have his way with you as he pleases.

“Messy girl…”

Simon mumbles out against your skin, forcing a shiver that crawls up your spine, sinking its claws into your flesh as his licks turn into kisses, which turn into nips, which escalate into something more. His hand moves from the side of your neck to press into your shoulder, urging you to lean backwards into John while his free hand moves down towards the front of your shirt.

You follow the action, back pressing flush against the front of John’s chest, feeling the way he pulls you in further by the hips, the hardness of his cock easily noteable against your back.

One of Simon’s fingers hook around the fabric, twisting it around as he pulls it downwards, stretching it, and moving it to come underneath your bra, framing them - and, in kind, your tits - perfectly. You feel your own eyes flutter, breathing growing heavy and catching in your throat as your knees grow weak, held up solely by John, who simply grins smugly at Simon.

“C’mon, Simon. You can do better than that. Wan’na hear our girl moan, don’t you?”

He encourages, borderline chasting the other man, his grin widening as Simon huffs out a breath of amusement, moving both of his hands down towards the front of your chest and hooking his thumbs around the cups of your bra, jerking them downwards in a rough motion, freeing your breats with one simple action. 

He immediately moves further, bending down in what must be an uncomfortable position as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, teasing it with his tongue while his fingers move to pinch and twist the other, groaning against you. You can feel your own hips buck upwards as the most pathetic whine passes through your lips.

The desperate hunger in his actions mixed with John’s subtle motions of dominance make your head feel as though it’s tilting on its axis, getting spun ‘round and around until you’re positively dizzy, keening, whining, and moaning out unabashedly and without any semblance of shame.

One of John’s hands, both of which had been doing nothing more than holding you by the hips, move forwards, dipping beneath the waistband of your trousers and panties, middle and index finger spreading out as they meet your soaking cunt, gently spreading your folds apart. He isn’t at all concerned with taking either articles off and, if anything, seems spurred on by the challenge the boundaries offer.

“Soaked already, hmm? We haven’t even done anythin’ yet, Em.”

He taunts you, feeling the way your slick coats his fingers with ease as he inches his way towards your opening, swirling a sole finger around it in a slow, counterclockwise motion. He just barely teases the tip of his finger inwards, chuckling at the way you try to writhe and get more from him, all the while Simon puts all of his attention on your pretty tits.

“In ‘er defense, we’ve done a lot more than nothin’.”

Simon mumbles, barely pulling his mouth away before diving right back in, working to suck a hickey into the soft flesh of your breast right next to your nipple, leaving an assortment of them with the inclusion of nips and bites all along your skin, making a conscious effort to provide equal parts of attention to both of them.

John rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue gently as he pushes a finger inwards, feeling the way your walls welcome the intrusion with greed, swallowing the single finger up whole. He turns his neck just barely to the side, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, letting his lips rest there, breathing out in heavy breaths that match your own and Simon’s alike.

“Guess she’ll have to build up a defense for herself then, huh, Simon?”

“Guess she will.”

It seems like you will have to leave the rest of the decorating for the morning, now won’t you?

[zh-lele]

Playing Games

You didn't yet see my worth, so you try to play me. But I was so in love that I just got a little bit too complicated.

▪︎ Summary: A chaotic New Year's party makes you rethink the kind of relationship you've been having with Donghyuck for the past few months. He is a player, but you love the game.

▪︎ Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x female reader

▪︎ Genres: friends with benefits, smut, angst

▪︎ Word count: 7.4k (I'm so sorry.)

▪︎ Warnings: explicit sexual content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; profanity; substance consumption; toxic behavior. (Please let me know if I missed something.)

Listen to the playlist here. | Click to see Hyuck's moodboard.

Author's note: This is my secret santa gift for @neochan as part of the event hosted by @neowritingsnet . Hey Sam, I was your secret santa! Happy holidays and I hope you can enjoy the fic :) Didn't have the time to get it proof read so I'm really sorry about that.

Lolo.

1. Forget about it, forget about him

"How are you surviving the New Year's party?"

Your question takes Rina by surprise, since you see her get a little scared when she hears your voice from behind. But, seeing that it's only you, it doesn't take long for that beautiful smile that characterizes her to reappear.

"It's going really well, I think." She answers by returning her gaze to the front, where your group of friends is preparing for the main event of the night.

It's exactly two minutes to midnight. You know this not only because of the gigantic TV screen in the living room of the mansion—that has been broadcasting the countdown to the new year in different parts of the world since you arrived at the boys' house— but because you can also feel it in the air.

Aeri is helping Mia bring the glasses into the living room and set them ready for the cocktail party. Donghyuck is arguing with Jaemin because he's not helping Jisung with the Champagne bottles he's too scared to open. Chenle's laughter can be heard from the kitchen followed by some groans, and Mark telling him "it's not funny at all". You only find out what the mess is about when Jeno comes and lights up the room with his eye smile, telling the guys that Mark splashed his own eyes cutting the lime for the margaritas, and now he can't see anything.

You and Renjun share a cigarette on the balcony, now with Rina on your side.

"You know things are about to get weird, right?" Renjun asks the girl.

"Yeah, the other girls warned me you have this tradition going on," she starts. "No one leaves without a kiss from your New Year's parties." And her face flushes red as he finishes the sentence with his eyes locked on Donghyuck, who is finally pouring the champagne into the glasses with a smirk, looking as handsome as ever.

The action doesn't go unnoticed by you or Renjun, so you decide to push the new girl a little more. "You've got someone in mind?"

"Well…" She laughs, and without taking her eyes off him, she drops it: "I might go for Donghyuck."

The clock strikes midnight and the cheers are heard, both inside the mansion and outside in the street. As you approach inside to celebrate and drink the champagne together with your friends, you are surprised and intercepted by your friend Aeri, who plants a quick New Year's kiss on your lips before throwing herself into her boyfriend's arms and doing the same with him. You just laugh it off and empty the drink in your glass to set your eyes on a different pair meters away from you.

Rina had been the newest addition to the group, and obviously, before inviting her to the mansion and one of the chaotic New Year's Eve parties, someone had to warn her how things were. It was only fair that Rina was aware of an agreement made years ago between you and your friends: everyone gets at least one midnight kiss during the new year celebration. She was told just enough to try to survive the night.

The mansion is the boys' rented house and private studio. All of them have been making good amounts of money in the music industry lately, gaining popularity really fast, and it's a privilege that she isn't paying anymore to enter a party in the mansion.

It wasn't her fault that no one told her that something has been going on between you and Donghyuck for months, and that you were hoping that he wouldn't kiss anyone but you that night. When you didn't tell Rina anything as soon as she said she wanted to go for him, you were only waiting to test Donghyuck.

Because if you think about the situation, it was all his fault, honestly.

Everyone in your friend group knows Donghyuck and you have been exclusively seeing each other for months now. Your girl friends know very well he isn't afraid to fill your ears with sweet things and words of affection when you are alone. Yet, he won't show you around and would act like you're no more than friends when there's someone else.

You still don't know what his problem is, but you are growing sick and tired of crying for nights because he won't talk to you. Instead, he would have you thinking you did something wrong to upset him or that he doesn't care about you anymore, to then come and act like he didn't just ignore you for days. But you aren't going to take your anger on Rina.

You are going to do it on Donghyuck later, definitely.

Lee Donghyuck, or one of the most recognized and well paid r&b artists from this new movement of kids coming up in the industry, making some of the best music of the continent independently. But for the ones who know him privately, he’s just a kid wasting a lot of talent and potential, who's only got a big ton of pressure on his shoulders and stacks of money he doesn't know how to spend more than on parties, alcohol, and drugs.

He’s also the boy you've been chasing and trying to get with for years. And now that you have him, you can't lose him just like that.

If he kisses Rina right in front of you and everyone else when he refuses to do that with you, that's going to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

The white lights go down until it is only the colored lights hanging from the tall ceiling, and the Christmas lights taped on the wall that illuminate the room very dimly. You can appreciate some of your best friends still exchanging their midnight kisses. You can also spot Jaemin in one corner pouring out one margarita after another, and Donghyuck with Rina huddled against the wall in the other corner of the room. The millisecond he makes eye contact with you and smiles all the way from there, then returning his attention to Rina is actually what sets you on fire. Not in the way you would want to, though.

You don't need to stay there to know Donghyuck's gonna try and play you dirty. And you won't give him the satisfaction of standing there alone, watching him kiss with someone else.

You should have listened to your friends when they told you over and over again that Donghyuck is and always will be a player, not worth all your tears. You should have also heard your other side of consciousness telling you "don't do it, don't go there." But it's too late to regret it when you take the cup from Jaemin's hands and drink all of its contents, then grab the bottle of tequila and Jaemin's hand and drag him with you to the kitchen.

You know Donghyuck like the palm of your hand. You could try and play his games too.

When you set the tequila bottle on the kitchen counter and sit yourself on it to grab Jaemin by the collar and put him between your parted legs, the mischief reaches his eyes and reflects on the smirk of his mouth.

"I feel like we're not here for more margaritas," he says looking into your eyes and placing his hands on your thighs.

You give the bottle one last swallow before confirming his suspicions.

"You're right. Happy New Year."

Kissing Jaemin has always been a pleasure, in every sense of the word. His kisses are as lazy as he is, and feel as full of affection as if you were in love with each other, which makes you think about how there is no doubt why everyone falls in love with him so easily.

His lips taste like salt and lime, and explore yours sweetly until he opens his way to the inside of your mouth. There, the salty taste is replaced by a sweetness that contrasts with the rest of his movements. His hands caress your legs, look to get you closer to his body, squeezing your thighs and butt and making you approach the edge of the counter, but never completely losing that calm that characterizes him. Jaemin is the perfect definition of a tease.

"Thought we wouldn't be doing this anymore." You feel the vibrations of his vocal chords under your lips that leave his neck wet with kisses. When you don't answer him, he cups your face separating you from his skin, and makes you look him in the eyes. "Aren't you and Hyuck together?"

Well, that's a hard question. Because it seems like it depends on the situation and the mood. When Donghyuck feels like treating you like his girlfriend, you really feel like the luckiest girl in the world. He's sweet, caring, and funny. He comes to your home to share dinner with your family and spend the night, and you do the same at his. He even let you spend the entire Christmas day at the mansion—and you know that's something reserved for the couples only. You had morning sex, breakfast together, opened presents, and even cuddled while watching movies until it was dark outside.

You could say you are together only when he's feeling like giving you his attention. The rest of the time, you only try to figure out his feelings: when he will disappear for an entire day, won't talk to you for a week or will get mad if you go partying without him, but then flirt with other girls right in front of you.

Following that line of thought:

"No, we are not together." You finally tell Jaemin.

He only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before moving closer to your ear to whisper. "That's a shame, because I think this would be much hotter if you were."

It sends a shiver down your spine and settles a strange feeling in your stomach at the same time. It's kind of frustrating, the way no matter how much you want to get Donghyuck out of your head and just have a good time with other boys, you can't get yourself to do it.

Donghyuck doesn't need to know, but it's not the first time you try forgetting you're mad at him with a little help from others. And that's the thing about it: that you only ever get to try, because the guilt takes over you despite how he has neglected and hurt you, and you end up going back to him over and over.

That unsettling feeling washes over you like a bucket of cold water, so you have to separate Jaemin from your lips before apologizing and rushing out of the kitchen to find your friends.

2. I think I wanna kiss you, right here in front of everybody

"You know what's your problem? You're always being too nice." Mia leans on the balcony railing with a joint between his lips, and stretches an open hand to you. The lighter lands on her palm and she's quickly lighting up the rolled paper, passing it to you after a couple of deep puffs.

"Well," you start exhaling the smoke. "That depends on who's saying it."

"You just need to fuck someone else, not letting remorse or sad feelings get in between. Just to know if you really wanna stop seeing Hyuck after it or not."

"But you don't understand," the lump in your throat can be noticed through your shaky voice, and the tears begin to threaten to fall from your eyes so Aeri—who has positioned herself in front of you and is covering you from the rest of the people inside the party—takes your hand and gives it a little comforting squeeze. "I've liked him for so long. I really, really only want to be with him."

"You really want to be with someone who's been making you cry for months now? I remember you having more sad than happy nights," Mia points out once again. You quickly dry your tears with your hands before they keep falling. "Even on fucking New Year's. New Year's party and you're crying over this dickhead." She says in disbelief.

"Must be some reaaally good dick if it got you this down bad."

The three of you manage to laugh at Aeri's comment, thankfully. You maintain the order of the round and pass the joint back to Aeri.

"It is," you confess, blowing out the smoke. "He really is that good."

"Does he at least make you cum?"

"Not all the time—"

"Then you have to leave him, sister." Mia interrupts. There's a smile on her face now that indicates she's just half-joking.

"But he's seriously so good!" You shake your head in frustration followed by an exasperated sigh. It's embarrassing to say it out loud, but your friends had known you for years, and they know that this talk and all the shed tears won't change a thing. "You know I'm not leaving him."

"Yeah, I know this conversation is fucking pointless." Mia's face is illuminated by the light from her cell phone when she takes it out ready to play one of her latest obsessions. Cats Café, a new game that locks her up in your bathroom for hours, playing seated on your toilet and leaving you and Aeri hanging out in the living room of your house, just the two of you during girls' nights. "Just please, try to keep in mind how bad you've had it the last few days the next time he tries to sugarcoat you with his words."

"You wouldn't be having such a bad time if you were going out with me, instead of him."

"Aeri, you literally have a boyfriend." You tell her with a roll of your eyes. 

"And you literally took my midnight kiss in front of him, with no complains," she replies to you. "And Mark told me he wouldn't care if I ever wanna try something with a girl!"

"Wait," you observe Mia pause his game and look up at your other friend with furrowed eyebrows. "You mean as in a threesome?"

"Who's having a threesome?" Donghyuck asks throwing his arm around Aeri's shoulders, and taking the drink out of her hands to empty it down his throat.

"The three of us," she answers looking at Donghyuck with a smile, and doing a circular motion with her hand pointing at you, Mia, and herself.

His eyes open up in astonishment when you laugh hearing Aeri's words, but an amused smile takes over his face at the same time. "That's extremely unfair, don't you think?"

"Want me to film it for you? So you don’t miss out." You ask him in return.

"I'd rather film you and me, alone." He says in a teasing tone.

"Okaaaaaay," Mia gets up from her place to shove her phone down her jean pockets and starts walking back inside. "Can't a girl play Cats Café in peace without having to listen to you being some horny motherfuckers all the time?!"

"Go get fucked, Mia." Donghyuck tells your friend and you get to punch him in the arm when he comes to stand to your left, which gets him laughing and complaining.

Mia only points her middle finger at him and yells something like “I'll ask your brother.” Next thing you know, Mark has joined Aeri on the balcony after communicating that Mia and Jeno have, in fact, taken over his room to do God knows what, and you are lighting up the second joint of the night with Donghyuck standing very close to your side. 

The four of you smoke in silence until there are only a few puffs left before it goes out. When the stub comes back to you, you light it again sure you'll be the one to finish it off.

Donghyuck watches you exhale the smoke from your lungs and then looks down at the joint between your fingers. He's not going to ask for it, so you raise your hand to the level of his mouth and position the end of it between his lips—which feel as soft as ever, and he leaves a little tempting kiss on your fingertips.

A few meters away from you the party is still going on. Sweaty bodies, blinding colored lights, and wet tongues that move to the rhythm of an ear-piercing song played by Renjun. He is a genius, the best of them all when it comes to producing music, and it shows in the way he makes you feel like your heart is gonna come out of your chest when he plays with the console.

It could be the music, the weed, the alcohol, the boy in front of you—who is looking into your eyes like you're the only one at the party, as if you were his favorite and he hadn't had multiple girls hitting on him all night—or a mix of all that, but you start to believe he got you hypnotized. You know you could have anyone else too, but it's never enough if they aren't Donghyuck.

He takes a hit making it burn until he hurts your fingers, so you have to move them away from his lips. However, the pain isn't enough to bring you back to reality, and a little touch on his lips doesn't calm the incessant desire you have to kiss him—it shows in the dilated pupils of your eyes that look for his gaze, in your agitated breathing, and in his sly smile as if he was reading all your thoughts.

What does it take to break Lee Donghyuck?

The tension can be felt in the air, so your friends are quick to leave the two of you alone in the balcony, maybe hoping you would sort your feelings out.

"Kiss me? Please, kiss me."

After throwing the end of the joint to the floor, he gently caresses your face with his nose and hugs your waist to get you closer, forcing you to cross your arms behind his neck.

You continue begging in his ear. "No more hiding, Hyuck."

His nose reaches your neck where you feel him plant a subtle wet kiss and then leave an intense bite. His teeth scraping your skin while his two hands squeeze your butt, drawing you firmly into his body. One last suck to your neck that you're sure will be leaving a mark, and then he's getting off you, staring down as if nothing just happened.

"Just came here to tell you we'll be leaving to Yangyang's."

Donghyuck lights up a cigarette and goes back inside without another word, probably hoping you'll go after him since that's what you've gotten him used to; you can't deny it.

You often feel like his babysitter and his mother at the same time: making sure that he won't make stupid decisions when he's out and intoxicated, that he won't miss any important schedules, that he can communicate himself better with his friends and family. You've been Donghyuck's unconditional support from the day you met, but since he's shown nothing in return it has started to feel like a burden. Like trying to make an already grown man grow. You know that it isn't your responsibility, though, and that he isn't likely to change for good.

You can't break Lee Donghyuck, but you still like to try.

3. Tell her sweet lies

A quick stop before heading to the after-party at Yangyang's has Donghyuck's car sitting in the McDonald's parking lot, while he and Rina order takeout after you said you were feeling extremely hungry. It's you and Mia waiting inside, sitting on the heated seats with music blasting from the stereo.

You've made sure to make the ride awkward enough for Rina after you saw her with Donghyuck, caressing the nape of his neck and hair and squeezing his thigh as he drove in front of her. You know it's not an idea that Donghyuck likes too much, but the anger caused by his rejection combined with the desinhibition caused by the weed has you making bad decisions.

Donghyuck has left his phone unlocked for you to be able to change the music while he's gone. So you take the opportunity to enter his text messages and look for you and Mia's names through the chats.

Multiple results from the times you have been mentioned appear instantly. Some are funny ones, some are the result of important conversations in your group chat, and others are part of the private chats between Donghyuck and some of the boys.

"Did you know Yangyang talks about you to Donghyuck?" You ask Mia with a smirk.

"Oh my god!" She rips the phone out of your hands before you can get to read what it's about. "You're not reading that out loud."

Her pupils narrow when she brings the light of the screen closer to his eyes, to read the conversations between her "best friend" and Donghyuck. You immediately think that there can't be anything wrong with it because of the smile that Mia can't contain while she scrolls down the screen.

Mia throws the phone back at you and hides her blushed face on her hands before you can make fun at her.

"What is it?" You ask laughing. “Are you ever gonna stop messing around with other boys and confess to him?”

"I think he likes me," she says now looking at you, her cheeks still red from the temperature.

"Yeah, I think so too. I think he fucks you for a reason."

"Shut up! What does it say about you?"

You laugh once more and grab the phone, making sure to touch the screen before it locks up. The first mention of your name is from a chat from tonight, in which Donghyuck asked you if you wanted him to pick you up to go to the mansion. A few more meaningless mentions in your private conversation with him here and there. Some pictures and messages that you exchange that there's no chance to reveal. Lastly, you find several mentions of you in a private chat with Jaemin, which makes you curious so you open it to read the full conversations.

"There's something off here," you tell Mia with a furrow of your brows.

A little bit of concern is shown in her voice after watching your expression. "Huh? What is it?"

"He's been talking to Jaemin… And Jaemin asked if we've fucked." You tell your friend without stopping from scrolling through Donghyuck's phone, a deeper frown taking over your face the more you read his conversations with Jaemin that involve you.

"What did Hyuck say?"

"'I fucked her so good she won't go looking for you or any other guy ever again.'" You read Donghyuck's reply to Jaemin out loud. So that means he knew about you and Jaemin all this time. "'She gets so desperate for me it makes me sick, you can't imagine how much she cums when she's riding me–"

"I think that's enough." Mia scratches the phone from your hands and blocks it to prevent you from reading any more texts. A short silence falls between the two of you before she's speaking again. "I saw them kiss at midnight."

"Who?"

"Donghyuck and Rina."

Disgust quickly takes over your face and you feel like throwing up, the hunger you felt earlier leaving your body in an instant. It's been too much in such a short period of time.

The atmosphere in the car becomes awkward once more, a heavy trap base being the only sound filling the space. You don't really want to turn to look at the backseat where Mia sits because your teary eyes would give you away. You have known her long enough to be sure she won't hesitate destroying Donghyuck's car with a bat this time if she ever sees you crying because of him, again. And once you finally have such a good and stable group of friends, you don't want to ruin it just because you wanted to get involved with one of them and it turned out wrong.

You also knew who you were messing with since the start, but you still decided to ignore everything that Hyuck is and fall into lust and believe in his promises.

"He also said he doesn't really like me."

"Now that's ridiculous." Mia lets out a scoff.

You shrug, "It's what it said. That I’m only a good fuck."

"Hyuck has been seeing you for months, and you are going to believe what a silly text message says?" You feel Mia place her torso between the two front seats to try to meet your gaze while questioning you. "You know Hyuck becomes an asshole when he's with Jaemin," she continues. "He would say whatever bullshit to try to look cool–"

"But we haven't been doing so well lately."

"He likes you," she still tries to reassure you.

"Mia, it's fine. I don't care." You cut her off, crossing your arms and sulking in the passenger's seat. That tense silence keeps falling between both of you until she decides to speak.

"You can be sad about it, you know, he was being an asshole." She tells you in a much calmer tone, placing a hand on your left shoulder.

"I said it's fine." You turn to look at her the moment Donghyuck makes it back to the car with Rina, and takes his seat behind the steering wheel, passing the bags of takeout to Mia and placing yours in the middle of the car. Your eyes never meet Mia or Rina though, falling on Donghyuck's subtle smile, and getting lost in his glazed up eyes until you decide to lie to yourself for the millionth time that night. "I don't like him anyway."

Donghyuck looks a little lost as his eyes start wondering from you to Mia after hearing that last sentence. "Who's this guy we don't like?" You only smile in return, and ask him to take you home because you are too tired and intoxicated. He's quick to comply with your request, answering in a sweet and even more intoxicating tone than every other substance you had that night. "Of course, baby."

The car ride is awfully quiet when Donghyuck drops Mia and Rina at Yangyang's and, after a weird exchange of looks between Hyuck and the boys, the two of you continue your way to your house.

The night has gone from bad to terribly bad, and you're not sure how much longer you can take. After reflecting on every conversation you had with your friends tonight, you finally decide to speak.

"I think we should quit it."

He stops the car at the door of your house and looks at you with a crooked eyebrow. "What?" The disgust is evident in the tone of his voice.

"I just–" you struggle to take the words out. You aren't sure if you should tell him how hurt it made you that he talks like that about you with his friends, without shame or respect for your privacy. You aren't sure if you can reproach him for having been with other girls when you have also done it, when he has made clear you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, and when you agreed on it. "I know we'll never be in a real relationship, but I don't think you're treating me right, okay?"

Donghyuck lets out a scoff and his hands fall off the steering wheel like dead-weight. An expression on his face that tells you he's already done with this conversation. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"That it feels like I'm a game to you? That you only want me around when your dick is in need or whatever?"

"I just spent like a hundred on food for you and your friends. Again, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"And I don't want your fucking food, okay? I don't care how much money you spend on me," you say looking at him with teary eyes at this point. "What if I just want a hug, a kiss, a little affection, huh? Just that you care for me all the time, you know?"

"Baby," Donghyuck looks for your hands and you let him intertwine your fingers over the middle of the car. "But I show you my affection all the time," he says with a sweeter tone now.

"But not in front of others," you shake your head. He squeezes your hands and his thumbs caress the back of your hands, making it even harder to contain all your emotions. "It's like you're scared of others finding out, like you're ashamed. When literally everyone knows we're seeing each other."

"We've kissed in front of others multiple times."

"Yeah, but all those times you've been drunk off your ass and high as a kite. Like I'm just a random girl for you to hook-up at parties."

Donghyuck bites his lower lip to contain a smile, and gets closer to you to speak in your ear. "What if I told you you make me nervous when I'm sober?"

"Get off, you're ridiculous."

"But you know you are the only one I really like."

That's what makes you stop fighting him to search for his eyes. You know it isn't the best option, that he always tricks you into thinking whatever he wants when he looks at you oh so sweetly, even if he makes no sense, but you are hoping to finally find the truth somehow.

"Some things tell me otherwise. Mia told me–"

"Your friends are lying to you, might be trying to fuck up what we have."

“She told me you kissed Rina.”

“I didn’t,” he says. “I swear I didn’t. Nothing happened between me and her.”

His gaze is cold and his lips a straight line devoid of emotion, while he still holds you by the arms preventing you from getting out of the car. And that sentence feels like it's enough to ruin all the good things you've been through together. He keeps lying, talking about your intimacies with his friends, ignoring your feelings, and pretending that he really cares about you.

You open the car door and get out to slam it again, pretty sure it might leave the lock damaged. Outside the temperature is very low despite the fact that it is about to dawn, the sky turning purple and slowly turning off the stars. So you rush to open the door of your house before freezing outside, but especially because you hear Donghyuck get out of the car too and call your name closer and closer, indicating that he has no intention of ending the talk yet.

4. She knows what I am, and she loves and evades what I am

"I'm staying over." He says making his way through your door, shutting it and blocking it once the two of you are inside.

"No you're not." The walk down to your room gets constantly interrupted by him trying to reach for you and stopping you from moving any more. He grabs your arms to get you to look at him, so when he finally makes you turn around and you see his face, you break down. "Fuck you, Donghyuck! I told you you're not staying."

"Yeah, I am. And I'mma fuck you silly."

"No you're fucking not."

"Gonna take all that anger out of you."

"Fuck you, asshole." You almost spit in his face trying to talk to him at his same height.

"Is that what you want?" He asks, grabbing your jaw with one hand and forcing you to keep the eye contact, the other hand placing you flush from his body. "Fuck you so good you don't even understand why you got so mad in the first place?"

Your eyes fall to his gripped teeth and to his lips, wet with spit from all the previous arguing looking more tempting than usual.

You have to admit that, if you really think about it, it didn't make much sense why you got so mad at him. He already made it clear to you that absolutely nothing happened between him and Rina or anyone else all night while you, instead, jumped to conclusions and went looking for unwarranted revenge.

Maybe you and Mia thought he was being an asshole and was making fun of you when, in reality, that isn't much like Hyuck. What if it really was just a stupid conversation between boys? What if it was his way of showing off, of presuming to Jaemin about your relationship because he felt proud of you?

Because if he supposedly gets as sick of you as he said in the text messages, then why would he decide to be with you again?

A gasp comes out from your open mouth when you feel his hand squeezing on your ass and pushing you even closer to him.

"I just want you to be honest with me." You reply in a whisper. The smile that gets over his features is wicked, and his left hand tightens his grip around your face one last time before he shoves you to the bed.

An airy laugh comes out of him. "Silly girl gets angry and if I fuck her she calms down."

He gets over you placing both hands on the sides of your head and looks into your eyes once more. But there's something different this time. His look is so soft and tender it makes you want to tear up a little. It might show, because Donghyuck pouts lightly before opening his mouth to swear to you: "You know I'd never hurt you on purpose."

It's hard to trust him. But it's also hard to believe he would dare lie to you while looking at you in the eyes that way. So you only grab his locks and pull to give him a kiss full of emotion. There's passion, there's anger, there's pain and there's so much obsession it could be mistaken for love.

His palm travels up and down from your sides, caressing and squeezing firmly, to your back under your top until he unties the straps and gets it out of the way. His fingers explore and touch all the newly exposed skin sending shivers down your spine. He kisses you back aggressively, making you pull on his hair like you know he likes and feeling him grow hard above you.

His hands start to undo the buttons of your jeans and he slides his fingers under it and over your skin, massaging your ass, grinding on you even more.

Small whimpers leave from you and mix with the sighs coming out from his mouth. You take a moment to remove your pants completely, tossing them to the side and quickly starting to get Donghyuck out of his.

When his hands move up again, he gets them under the straps of your panties and moves them down, freeing you from the fabric, parting your legs and giving your clit direct contact with his boxers.

It's always too easy when he's alone with you. He knows perfectly when to kiss you and where to touch you to make you want more of him—an expert of your body, always looking for you to have the best time.

Guilt takes over you for the second time tonight, remembering how selfish you were earlier when you went looking out for his friend, and then getting mad at him when Donghyuck has really been nothing but the sweetest when it's just the two of you.

What was the problem with keeping things private? What was your obsession with him showing you off? You never considered he’s a public figure and he might like his privacy, to keep things on the low because of his fans, the paparazzi and the media who’s never got anything nice to say about him and your friends.

When you get away from him all of a sudden, there's a remaining blush on his cheeks as his lustful but confused eyes follow you, until you get on the floor and land on your knees in between his legs. His pupils expand as you tug on his boxer, grab his semi-hard cock and lick the tip of it. As soon as you repeatedly run your tongue around it, you hear him groan deeply. Not much time passes until he is fully hard while you keep moving your hand along his dick, squeezing and passing your thumb over the tip making Donghyuck hiss, and he pushes your head down to make you wrap your mouth around him one more time.

"Fuuuck baby," he groans one more time before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you away.

You look at him with shiny eyes, your lips red and moisturized with his pre-cum. And because of the way his chest moves up and down from the heavy breathing and the look he's giving you, you think Donghyuck might come just at the sight of you.

He doesn't waste another second to attach your mouths in a desperate kiss, leading you to lay on top of the bed once again. His weight on your body maintains your back pressed against the mattress, and he makes room between your legs. You're sure he's more than ready for you, but you know he always wants to make sure you are fully ready for him. His digits tease your entry and you whine in desperation to just have him. 

"Hyuck," you can't help but cry his name.

"What?" He asks as his fingers keep going in and out of you. The feeling of his lips on yours help you momentarily stop from moaning and complaining.

When he finally breaks the kiss to breathe, you manage to speak. "Quit teasing and fuck me."

He only grins at you and you can finally feel the head of his cock replacing his fingers in your pussy. But he doesn't push in yet. Instead, his fingers coated in your juices come in contact with your lips and somehow you know what he wants.

"Did you have fun playing the angry girlfriend with me?" He comes closer and whispers in your ear as you open your mouth and suck them for him. "Silly girl. Look at you, you are so beautiful." Donghyuck talks in between wet kisses that move from your cheeks to your neck. "How could you believe what your friends say?"

A moan escapes you—whether because of his actions or his words, it doesn't matter too much, because he slams his dick into you, taking away all the air from your lungs.

The oxygen only reaches your blood again once he slightly pulls off to bottom out immediately after, setting a steady pace. You are restricted from making any sounds, as his fingers are still on your mouth while he keeps pleasuring you, obliging you to suck and bite at them because he just feels too good.

Once again, you think every doubt you ever had about him before was dumb, as there isn't a possibility he would want to make you feel this good if he didn't like you at all.

His girth is perfectly adjustable to you and quick to form a knot on the low of your stomach. It would suddenly disappear when he completely pulls out of you and grabs your hips to turn you around, making you stand on your elbows and knees. With your head down on the mattress and ass up in the air, Donghyuck doesn't waste another second and gets inside you.

His thrusts are slow and deep, way too deep. This position allows him perfectly to play with your clit and to squeeze your breasts at the same time, quickly sending you over the edge in a minute, then stopping completely, then stimulating you to the limit over again.

When he finally gets his hands off your body completely, you start to accelerate the pace on your own, fucking yourself on his dick before Donghyuck interrupts suggesting you move to straddle him.

He's quick to get himself sitting with his back against the bed frame, then dragging you to sit comfortably on top of him. Hyuck rubs the head of his dick back and forth between your folds, reaching your clit repeatedly and spreading your wetness all over him, making you whine in the process.

"Hyuck, please." You are a panting mess on top of him, moving yourself to keep the friction stimulating you and sighing dreamily. 

He lets you grind and stimulate your clit through his length for a bit, taking his shirt off in the process and going back to massaging your boobs. You whimper when he manages to sink you down on him without a warning, which makes you fall forward and rest the side of your head on his chest, your ear right above where his heart should be.

His arms embrace your body and press you against his chest that is warm, allowing you to hear the rhythm of his heart, slow and controlled, like you could find all the right answers by just listening to it.

"I would make love to you," he whispers, "but you made me mad with your little scene."

"Hyuck, don't be like that." Your eyes fall shut trying to hold back the tears, when at the same time you desperately want to see his satisfied smile hearing you cry and moan his name as he rolls his hips, stretching your walls again and again without having started to move back and forth again. "Hyuck, fucking move!" You ask desperately, sitting and trying to bounce on him but his hands on your waist keep you in place, glued to his torturing hips.

A strong smack on your right ass cheek makes another filthy sound escape from your lips right before you hear his voice. "Talk to me nicely," he warned.

"Do that again." 

Your plea makes him smile and move your ass up a bit to give you the first thrust after a while. His palm violently comes in contact with your cheek one more time and you fall even forward, hiding your face on his neck and whispering all the praises you could think of in his ear.

"That's it," he says as he continues hitting all the right spots inside you.

When his hand slides between your bodies and finds your clit you can't contain yourself anymore and fully sit on top of him to take a little bit of control, riding him while you chase your orgasm.

Even when you start begging for it over and over, he doesn't say a thing at your tireless plea. He knows you are once again at the verge of it by the way your inner walls clench around him. Instead, he keeps stimulating your clit while squeezing and sucking your boobs. Sitting in the middle of his bed with his dick buried inside you, he makes you work for it until you are coming all over him.

You keep moving, supporting yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck and riding out your orgasm until you feel the cold air hit your nipples, wet with the warmth of Hyuck's mouth before he was moaning out his own orgasm.

"Love you," he places a kiss at the top of your head, and caresses you gently along your back down to your thighs. "You're so, so beautiful."

You open your eyes and take a look at your surroundings while still hiding your face on Donghyuck's neck. Things look blurry and you feel a little dizzy. You're breathing heavily, but not only because of the amazing angry-make up sex you two just had. You're coming back to your senses, and your chest hurts and your eyes sting from holding on the tears; it's everything that happened this night taking over you all at once.

A sip from your nose is what gives you away and makes Donghyuck laugh.

"Aw, baby," he says with a squeeze on your asscheek. "Fucked you so good I got you crying?" Donghyuck takes your face in his hands and forces you to look into his eyes. His thumbs wipe away the thick tears that fall down your cheeks with care, and he kisses the pout on your lips over and over again, until they form a straight line. "Shh, it's okay baby. I know you didn't mean to get mad at me."

You shake your head and open your mouth, determined to speak, to tell him that things can no longer work like this, but you are interrupted by his lips and his hands making you start to move again on his dick, still buried deep inside you.

"I love you," he repeats in between kisses, and you moan. "I love you. Happy New Year."

And this time you shake your head in agreement, up and down in the same way that Donghyuck starts to move your body on him, hoping he would just shut up and stop lying for once. But you try to convince yourself that if you do it all again, that if you choose to keep seeing him, there will be just lust. No playing games, no believing in promises, no loving him, but lust. Because you can't let him go just like that.

Happy holidays everyone! If you liked this fic, please let me know. Feedback is always appreciated.

[rainydayandmondays]

Secret Santa is Coming....

Summary: Time for the Secret Santa gift exchange and Andy knows you deserve only the best gift. And who says it can’t be a gift for both of you.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, female masturbation, voyeurism, Daddy kink, slight non-con

Author’s Note: A follow up to the Thanksgiving Potluck. I don’t think Andy is okay with just a one-shot with his sweet girl.

“Mr. Barber.”

Andy looked up to see you standing just inside his doorway. Your hands dropping to be held in front of you, he watched as you momentarily shifted from foot to foot. You were uneasy and that should never be how you feel around him. He dropped the affidavit he had been reading back to his desk, before rolling his shoulders, and sitting back in his chair. Something had you skittish and he wouldn’t have that.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

You bow your head at the nickname, your bashful reaction to it would never get old with him. However, he did try to use it sparingly. Waiting until you two were mostly alone, he would softly say it and watch you smile before catching yourself.

“Can I talk to you about something?” You looked at him, your brow furrowing as you waited for his response. Something was wrong. He could feel his own unease build up the longer he watched you, your fingers now fidgeting in front of you.

“Is that even a question? Of course, you can,” He gestured to the seat in front of him.

You seemed to loosen up at his response, your hands dropping the gripped hold you had them in. Turning to close the door behind you, you gave him a small hopeful smile before taking the offered seat.

He continued to sit back, despite wanting to inch closer to you. You were calmer now and he didn’t want to break you from that peace that you had regained, “What’s going on?”

You took a quick inhale before asking your question, “Are you the one leaving coffee on my desk every morning?"

The coffee. You knew about the coffee. After Thanksgiving, he hadn’t wanted to give up the feeling he felt watching you enjoy him so much. He embraced the flashes of you licking your lips after finishing his potluck offering. They would keep him busy popping up over the long holiday weekend.

Laurie had ordered in catering for their family meal. Things were starting to pick up for her at work as they entered the holiday season. Buying everything and then cooking the turkey dinner wasn’t something she was willing to take on. Instead, they had pulled the plastic containers from the takeaway bag, quickly heating them up before sitting down to the saddest Thanksgiving meal. Thoughts of you were the only thing that pulled him out his funk to start pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic.

He decided that weekend that he would find a way to share that with you again. Your friend may have thrown out that thinly veiled threat, but he would find a way around it. Returning to the office after the holiday, he decided to keep his ritual to his nightly shower. No more parking garage camera feed for your noisy friend to make noise about. He found if he worked late enough, by the time he got home, there would be no one up to ask why he took a tumbler with him to shower.

Filling up his trusty tumbler every night, he would grab it from the refrigerator each morning as he waved goodbye to a wife and son who seemed to be more enthralled with their phones than anything he was doing. Heading to the local coffee shop after his morning swim, he would sit in his car adding his special ingredient to the small light roast brew with double espresso shots and half and half.

Making sure to get in as early as possible, he would leave the cup of coffee on your desk before hustling to his office. He had done so for the last week, a smirk lighting up his face when you brought the cup to the weekly team debrief for the latest cases. But now you knew it was him. He should have known you would figure it out.

Trying his best to not react to your question, he pulled on all his skills to keep the best poker face. He could come up with a reason for it that wouldn’t return you to that ball of nerves that had stood in his doorway.

He cleared his throat before responding, “You caught me. I know the late nights you have been putting in. That can’t be easy to do and then only to go home and help your parents. Figured you might need something to look forward to.”

You hummed at his explanation, looking down before returning your gaze to him, “That’s very kind, Mr. Barber. Sweet even. It’s just…people like to talk. I’ve worked so hard. And I don’t want anyone to think that I got anything because of…because of anything else other than work.”

Your eyes had continued to flit between him and your hands in your lap as you spoke. He could tell that you had thought through your small speech, probably even prepped yourself on your drive in. He also knew that one of the office gossips had gotten to you. He was selfish and he wanted the moments with you but not at the risk of you feeling uncomfortable.

Leaning against the desk, he looked at you straight on, expressing as much empathy as possible, “Understood. No more coffees.”

Your shoulders finally came down from around your ears and you sighed, nodding back in thanks.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you replied before rising to walk towards his office door. He wanted to correct you. Remind you to call him Andy. However, he figured it was best not to push his luck. Watching you push the wrinkles from your skirt as you walked away, he called back to you, “I don’t want you worrying about this or what anyone may say, okay?”

Stopping to look over your shoulder, you reached to grab at your necklace, “I won’t.”

“Promise me?” He smirked as you continued to twiddle with the gold chain.

“I promise,” you answered as he nodded for you to leave.

With the click of his door closing, he looked down at his desk, saving your promise to his memory. He’ll use it later tonight.

Holding the slip of paper in his hands, your name neatly scrawled across it, he smiled to himself. A couple of people in the office decided to put together a Secret Santa exchange. Apparently, the Thanksgiving potluck was such a success when it came to team building, the higher ups agreed to the next holiday activity. Even had HR sign off on it.

Andy had been in court when the bag of names had been passed around. He didn’t give it much thought. Since your stop in his office a week ago, he had kept his distance. It wasn’t something that he wanted in the slightest. But he was willing to respect your genuine worry about office gossip. No more tumblers, no more early coffee runs. The research requests still happened but always through the weekly team huddle.

However, now seeing your name chosen for him, he had to smile to himself. Of course, it would be you that he would get. Of course, him trying to keep his distance would mean you finding a way back to him.

He sat down, leaning his chin in his hands, “Okay, sweet girl. I understand.”

The office had pretty much cleared out with most people starting their holiday vacations. The last few streamers from the small Christmas luncheon had been balled up and chucked in the bin, when Andy made his way out to the bull pin. You were waving off the last of the other paralegals as you collected your stuff to make your own way home.

“Hey sweetheart,” he saw you jump a little before turning to him.

You had worn a red Christmas sweater with a white bow handstitched along the collar. Your normal pencil skirt had been replaced by a pair of black slacks. And although not his favorite, the pants had done wonders for your ass. He had watched as you moved around the office putting up the last-minute decorations, only to take them down.

“Hi Andy.” You replied turning and looking up at him from your office chair. He caught the small smile that wanted to break free at your utterance of his name. That was good, you were comfortable around him again.

Clearing his throat, he brought the gift bag from behind his bag, presenting it to you, “Merry Christmas.”

“So, you were my Secret Santa,” you smirked looking at the packed gift bag he had hastily bought from the Walgreens down the street.

“It’s a three-part gift,” he answered, nodding towards it and urging you to open it.

Taking the stuffed tissue paper from the top you reached in pulling out a pink tumbler. You let out a small giggle, “For my coffee?”

He fully smiled this time, before shrugging his shoulders and pointing to the remaining items in the gift bag. Putting down the tumbler, you turned back to the bag, reaching the bottom of it, you pulled out a wooden paper weight. Carved into the center was the seal for Boston College Law School. Your brow creased as you tried to piece together the meaning of the gift. He watched as you finally looked back to him, your look pleading for an answer.

“That’s the second part. An old college buddy of mine is the registrar. I told him about a paralegal that had aced her LSATs, had helped on numerous high profile ADA cases, but hadn’t had the chance to enroll yet.” He looked on as the puzzle started to come together in your mind. Your brow creased further as tears started to line your eyelashes.

“They have grant funds set aside every year for students that display great potential. He took care of everything. You can enroll whenever you’re ready. There will be a space for you. That’s the third part.” He whispered the last of his explanation. The tears that had been threatening to fall now ran fully down your cheeks.

“Oh my God. Thank you.” You jumped from your chair, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

Initially taken by surprise, he hesitated momentarily before letting his body relax into your hold. His hands landing on your back as you sniffled into his dress shirt and whispered quiet thank you’s in his ear.  He threw up his own thanks at the office being empty. Something tells him that you may have restrained yourself more with an audience.

Starting to feel you pull away, he resisted the urge to cling to you. It had been a while since Andy had a genuine hug. He had been mostly regulated to side hugs with Laurie. Every once in a while, it would include a kiss to the cheek. And Jacob, well he was fully rooted in his teen years and any idolization that he might have had for his dad had been long gone. He would only get quick nods of recognition from over the top of the phone from his son. But now with you, he could feel the heat of your body, the small catches in your breath as you tried to regulate your outburst. This was something he couldn’t give up.

“I’m so sorry. That’s not very professional of me. It’s just…this means so much to me.”

Your tearful smile at him tempted him to bring you back into his embrace. To just hold you as all the happy tears flowed out of you.

You giggled again, shaking your head, “I have to tell my parents. I have to…”

He nodded at you, seeing all the possibilities run through your mind. He had opened doors for you. Had given you a better future. Had put that delighted smile on your face. He had done that. You quickly began to pack up your remaining things, yesterday’s brief stuffed in with your laptop. Turning to him again, you smiled again grabbing onto his forearm and squeezing.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas Andy.”

“Can you believe it, Jake? I can enroll whenever I’m ready. There’s a space just waiting for me.” You talked animatedly to your best friend as you placed the carved paperweight on your bookcase. It would sit perfect with your old undergrad books and picture of Jake and you from your graduation.

“That’s amazing, Ace! So, he just called a friend and got this all sorted out?” Jake asked facetiming you from his room.

He had suspicions about your kind of boss since before meeting him Thanksgiving. You had mentioned how many late nights you had been spending at the office recently and how walking out at night gave you the heebie-jeebies. The protector within him woke up immediately at that, ready to offer to pick you up if he needed to. You would never ask him to do that yourself. That’s when you brought up Andy Barber and how he started walking you out.

It hadn’t taken Jake long to dig up information on the ADA. He had the white picket fence life, although there wasn’t too much about his past listed. That was the first red flag. Hacking into the courthouse’s camera feed had been relatively easy. These older government buildings never bothered upping their security.

Andy Barber always parked in one of the garage’s blind spots. That would be the second red flag. After you left, Andy wouldn’t be seen exiting until half an hour later. What could he possibly be doing in a parked car for thirty minutes? That was the final red flag.

“His friend is the registrar at the school. He was able to work it out. What?” Sitting down on your bed, you leaned back looking at Jake on your phone. He was making his slightly worried puppy dog face.

“It’s just that’s a lot to get coordinated so fast.”

“Why can’t you just be happy for me, Jake?” You asked only to see Jake’s face immediately deflate. The worried puppy dog look morphing to kicked puppy. His eyes widening behind his glasses.

“Of course, I’m happy for you Ace. It’s just that you’re too trusting sometimes.”

“I’m not a child,” you grumbled back, and Jake wanted to jump through the phone and ease your anger.

“You’re not. You’re a person with a good heart that wants to believe the best in people,” he saw the crease in your brow ease as he spoke, “And that’s why I gotta look out for you.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your small smile at Jake’s statement. From the first moment he had run into on his skateboard, knocking both of you over in the quad in college, he had looked out for you.

“When do you come back?”

“Why? Do you already miss me?” You watched Jake wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, causing a round of giggles to erupt from you. He pretended to be hurt by your outburst before continuing, “Probably not until the new year.”

You hummed, sitting back up, Jake and you sat in silence as he watched the disappointment take over your expression. He searched for a way to get you to smile again when he heard the knock at the door. Quickly looking back at the door, he breathed a sigh of relief seeing he had locked it.

“I gotta go, Ace.” He watched you nod a short okay, before finally getting up from your bed.

“I miss you.” “I miss you too, Jake.”

Andy sat down at the desk in his home office. Neck stretched back along the back of the chair, as he thought back on the last couple of hours since getting home. Walking in, he noticed all the lights were off, not even the Christmas tree in the den was lit. Disengaging the alarm, he made his way into the kitchen to see a sticky note stuck to the fridge. Laurie had to go back into the office to finalize the preparations for the end of the year gala, while Jacob spent the night at a friend’s. So much for family time.

Putting an order into the local Italian place, he went upstairs to change out of his work clothes. He contemplated jumping in the shower, until he heard the doorbell ring with his takeout. Turning on the tree in the den, he ate his pasta dish with only the twinkling Christmas lights on. What had his life become? What had his family become?

Dropping the to-go containers in the trash, he wandered back to his office. He thought about powering up his laptop and finishing the closing remarks for one of his cases, when he found the holiday favors that you had passed around the office this morning. Your red sweater on, you greeted everyone with such joy for the upcoming holiday. He couldn’t help but smile up at you, as you left the favor on his desk.

You were a sweetheart. His sweetheart. His sweet girl. He rubbed along his bottom lip as he remembered your reaction to his gift. The hug had surprised him. But fuck if he hadn’t loved every minute of it. He didn’t even mind the soft sniffling you made as your tears stained his tie. He had made those tears.

Opening his iPad, he logged into the recently downloaded program. Would you have already told everyone about what he had done for you? Would you have passed around the carved seal of your new school for everyone to admire? Would you have put it in a place of pride? He wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to check.

Finishing entering the credentials, he watched as his screen came to life and he saw your bedroom space. It was cheerful like you, with multiple pillows adorning your bed and bursts of color in the pictures you hung on your walls. He devoured the scene, greedily taking in everything he could see, when he heard the click of the bedroom door. The small camera was powerful and could zoom 10x but was stationary in the middle of the school seal.

He waited, hearing you hum a Christmas song along the with opening and closing of drawers off camera and the tossing of a bath towel on the bed. Finally making your way into view, he saw your silk two-piece set. The navy-blue pajama top with white piping along seams hugged your tits. Your free tits, there’s no way you were still wearing a bra with the way your nipples poked through. And the shorts that accompanied it, covered the curve of your ass, but he watched as they inched up as you started to turn down the bed.

He shifted in his seat as he set the iPad to lean against the monitor stand on his desk. Widening his legs and easing back into his chair, he adjusted himself. He hadn’t had a chance for his nightly ritual. But seeing you now, he was happy to see he would have new things to add to his memory. You always knew how to take care of him. His sweet girl.

After setting most of the pillows aside, you climbed into bed, reaching over for your earbuds and phone. He couldn’t tell what you were listening to but judging by the content smile on your face, it must be good. He watched as you closed your eyes, listening to whatever was piping through your earbuds. Reaching down, he rubbed himself through his pajama bottoms. Nothing too aggressive, just softest of touches. The kind he always imagined you would give him. Always delicate and soft at the start.

He sighed to himself as he watched you, “My sweet girl.”

Lost in the moment, he didn’t catch you shifting at first. However, looking back at the screen, he saw your hand move to your top. You let out a small sigh as your fingers started to flick at your nipple, rolling it between your fingers. He frantically sat up, engaging the zoom function to watch up close. Your nipples were amazing, and he knew given the chance he would lap at them, giving them little bites to see you squirm. Your eyes were closed, breathing harsher, as you played with your tits.

“Play with her tits, sweet girl. Show me how sensitive they are,” He whispered as he took full hold of himself. After hitting his fist on the underside of the desk, he pushed back from it to make room for his hand as he continued to slide up and down his shaft.  

He could hear the little sighs you were making as they started to get louder. He knew you would be vocal. You would tell him everything that made you feel good. Both your hands covered your tits while the buttons of your shirt lay open from where you had torn it open to get your hands in.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” He squeezed around the tip before breaking contact with the screen to spit down onto himself. At feel of his warm saliva, that winking eye dribbled out onto self.

Hearing shifting, he looked back to find you grabbing one of the pillows you hadn’t bothered to put aside. Now, what were you doing now? He watched as you grabbed the forgotten towel still at the foot of your bed. Placing the pillow in the middle of the bed, you draped the towel over it before swinging a leg over and straddling the setup.

“Fuck me. Take what you need, sweet girl.” He grunted as you started to rock back and forth on the pillow.

Your hips started a natural rhythm, one hand still pawing at your tit while the other held you steady on your perch. As he looked on, the more he dribbled out on his hand, and he finally reached down pushing his pants and underwear off. His ass was momentarily cold on the leather of the seat, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as you kept humping your pillow.

“Daddy.”

Andy nearly swallowed his tongue when he heard your whisper. Your bottom lip now caught between your teeth as you whined.

“Daddy is here. Fuck, I’m right here.” He fisted himself, finally dropping to grab onto his balls and rolling them in his palm.

“Daddy, please.” You mewled out your whimper and he had to grab tight at his base to avoid blowing his load right then and there. You were close, but fuck him, if he missed it by losing it first.

“What do you need, sweet girl? What do you need from daddy?”

“Daddy, I can’t.”

How could you answer him? You had to know. His sweet girl was so smart, she could figure anything out. You had to know he was here. That he could see you. That he was watching you. You were doing this for him.

“Yes, you can. Daddy says you can. I’ll even count down. Five.”

You stuttered slightly before picking up your pace again.

“Four.”

He tightened his grip, corkscrewing his hand on each trip up.

“Three.”

Your breathing was getting harsher as you brought down your other hand, using both to steady you as your hips rolled.

“Two.”

He was almost there. His balls had already started to pull up as he planted his feet to thrust into his fist.

“One. Come on, my sweet girl. Come for daddy.”

He nearly lost it, as you threw your head back, mouth gaping in a silent cry, and the rest of your body spasming. Fucking his hand, he watched as a gush of liquid flew out of you, wetting the towel beneath.

“Oh fuck. Such a good girl. Such a good, fucking sweet girl.”

Standing up, he aimed for the screen as he lost it on the image of his sweet girl squirting for him. He twitched and continued to rub out every ounce he had for her. For once, he didn’t think about it going to waste. It hadn’t, not with what you had given him tonight.

Bracing against the edge of the desk, he flopped back into his chair, as you rolled off your pillow completely drained.

“Thank you, daddy.” You gave one final whisper before peeling off your pajama shorts and grabbing the covers to go to sleep.

“You’re more than welcome, sweet girl. Rest now.”

Andy watched you snuggle into bed, returning to the woman he knew from the office. No longer the horned up, little one that just needed her daddy to take care of her. Taking a tissue from the console behind him, he wiped himself down before wiping the screen and desk. Pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up, he started to log out of the camera’s app, when a dialog box popped up, asking to save or delete recording.

He hesitated only for a moment, before clicking save.

Maybe these work holiday functions weren’t the worst thing in the world.

@sarahdonald87

@buckybarnesisdaddy

@theinheriteddutchess

@welp-heregoessomething

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Christmas Eve Ft Tetta Kisaki x GN!Reader WC: 1400+ Resident: @enchantedforest-network Secret Santa gift for @shujistars ! Happy Holidays my love!! I was so excited to see you enjoy Kisaki as much as I do! He needs much more love and I was glad to write this piece for you! The holiday season is full of fluff and I'm a total sucker for fluff!! I hope you enjoy this, my love! Synopsis: Dating Kisaki for a few years now the Christmas holidays were massive for you and Kisaki enjoys them just as much as you do. This one would be extraordinary for you both. The cozy atmosphere sets the mood for Kisaki to go outside his box and do something he wanted to do for some time! TW: pure fluff that will melt your heart!

The holidays usually were pretty busy for the vice president of TK&KO Group. His hands were full of running projects along with preparing this to be a special time of the year for him and you. For the past 6 years, he made it a point to spend Christmas with you, matter of fact every big holiday he had never missed at all. Looking at the time on the clock he was already behind. He needed to get to the mall before it was time to close and during this time of the year, everyone doing their last minute shopping would make the mall look like a jungle. He dreaded it a bit but there was something he was waiting for and it was finally finished right before Christmas.

You on the other hand when it hit December 1st a Christmas bomb hit your home from head to toe. The large Christmas tree is decorated with gold and pearly white ornaments. It displays beautifully outside the bay window. The outside was decorated as well. Kisaki never complained about your decorating because it made you happy and you really got into the holiday spirit. It was a little overboard, yeah but he would never say it.  Martha May Whoever wouldn't be able to top your decorations.

December 24th you were already in your holiday pajamas, the smell of freshly made cookies filling your nostrils, the cozy atmosphere making you feel just like you did as a kid. It was 7:46pm when you looked at the clock in the kitchen. He was going to be home anytime soon. The gift you had for him was on the island counter neatly wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper that was silver with a white snowflake design along with a pretty gold bow making it look like it was a cover page for a holiday magazine. As much as you told him not to get you anything expensive, the man did the opposite and got you something over the top every year. You reach for your phone, scrolling through your favorites to find Kisaki's contact. When pressing the call button it rang a few times. “Hello?” Kisaki answered in the background it was a little bit hard for him to hear due to everyone doing their shopping and talking. “Hey babe, are you close to home?” you asked him. “I will be soon. I just needed to stop by somewhere first before heading home.” His eyes wandered the store waiting for the salesman he spoke to throughout the weeks. “Is it a gift for me?” asked him in a playful tone. “I told you not to go overboard this year.” “I know I know. I promise it's a little something, nothing too big.” Kisaki saw the salesman coming back with the item in his hand “Listen babe I got to let you go I will be heading home soon. I love you.” “I love you too.” the soft smiling tugging on your lips. You couldn’t help but be curious about what it was or which store he was at. But you didn’t want to ruin the surprise; you just let it be and finished preparing the rest of the items before he arrived home. Hanging up the phone Kisaki spoke with the man to make sure the item he requested was EXACTLY what he wanted. The cool brisk wind hit him as he stepped outside the mall and got into his car. 20 minutes would pass when you would hear the front door unlock. From the cool wind hitting him to the feeling of the house feeling just that perfect warm cozy atmosphere you perfect each time during this year.

Shuffling into the hallway to greet him “Welcome home babe!” you smiled “Thank you.” nothing seemed to melt his heart more than to see the welcoming smile on your face each time. In his hand, you saw a pretty little blue box with a white ribbon. Taking a step towards you, he leaned in for a kiss. “I see you're already comfortable.” “Mhmm!” softly chuckling, your eyes look down towards the box that was in his hands. “Soooo what's in the box?” “You will find out soon enough.” He walked towards the tree admiring the display as the lights on the tree reflected on the wall. He happened to see the kitchen island when he passed by and saw the gift still on the counter that you left there. “So what's in the box?” Letting out a light chuckle you responded to him the same way he responded to you at first. “You will find out soon enough.” Both of you snuggled up on the couch. The batch of cookies you made was on the coffee table along with the eggnog you just made. The large plush chaise lounge you both were cuddling was right next to the Christmas tree. Your back was against Kisaki's chest and one of his hands was around your waist. “This is one of my favorite things to do with you.” a mellow soft tone coming from your lips. “Mines too.” He buried his nose in the crown of your head inhaling your intoxicating scent. 

“I’m looking forward to spending  more Christmases with you till we are old and senile.”  

Letting out a throaty chuckle “Me too… I think you would be the senile one.” “Yeah you're probably right” laughing at his comment “but I would want to spend my older ages with you.” For a brief moment, Kisaki changed the subject. “_______ what exactly did you want for Christmas this year?” he asked. The question caught you off guard for a moment. “Ohh ummm I'm not sure, I mean if I had to choose something. It's nothing materialistic or anything like that… it would be to spend the rest of my life with you…you were one of the best gifts I ever received in my life. You loved every part of me and I mean EVERY part of me from the good to the bad. You made me feel safe and loved and never judged me. That's all I ever wanted. As I see it love is just another word until something comes into your life and gives it meaning. You gave the word love a meaning to me.”  your head turned to face him.

“I love you  ______” Kisaki softly his hands caressing your cheeks before you felt his lips press against your forehead lightly. The mood in the room was just right. Kisaki spoke once more “Let’s exchange gifts.” Your eyes lit up quickly getting up from the chaise lounge and the warmth of your body disappeared from Kisaki. Both of you reached for your gifts. “I want you to open yours first.” Kisaki smiled.

He handed you the pretty blue box. Undoing the white ribbon and ripping the blue wrapping paper. The velvet small box in your hand opening it your heart was racing wondering if it was the specific thing you were thinking of. Opening the velvet taking a breath it was a beautiful pendant with your birthstone. “ It's a beautiful Kisaki.” you smiled. You were giving yourself a heart attack for no reason but you couldn’t help but admire the shining gem in front of you.

“Here let me put it on you.” He carefully took the pendant out of the box. Picking your hair up he placed the pendant on you. “You make the piece, it was meant for you babe… but still.”

“But still what?”  you turn around to face him.

“I’m not sure... Something is missing….” He raised his brow “hmm”  he crossed his arms.

“Missing?”

As soon as he unfolded his arms, his hands went into his sweatpants pocket. “Yeah, I forgot this is one part of your gift. I have the second part right here.” he pulled out another small box.

You looked down at the small box “Kisaki..”

“I think you know what it is… _________…” he starts off  “I love you with every inch of my living being. We have known each other for a very long time and when we decided to date I had never been so happy in my life.” He opens the box to see the beautiful ring. “I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. I want you by my side till my very last breath. Will you marry me?”

Your heart was racing fast at his proposal. Your eyes are swelling up with tears at his sweet words. Nothing was coming out of your mouth because you were so choked up all you could do was nod over and over. Kisaki reached for your left hand placing the sparkling diamond on your ring finger. Both of you embraced on another Kisaki kissing your temple “ I love you ______.”

[ghulehunknown]

Mountain x AFAB Reader

NSFW — MDNI

Summary: You and Mountain take a break from your duties to have a little fun in his room.

CW/Tags: sex toy use, tail fucking, masturbation, unprotected sex (P in V and anal), double penetration

Word Count: 2.4K

“You bought how many toys, Mounty?”

“Um, just a few.”

“It looks like a lot.”

“Yes, well - Santa came early.” You stared blankly at him as he shrugged. “I didn’t know what to get so I just got the ones that I dunno, looked the best and had good reviews?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Well I guess you get to choose which one you want.”

“Ah, okay. Well this one here also goes up my ass. Which might be kinda nice. Um okay, these two vibrate, but one has a remote…” He flicked his eyes up to yours. “Uhh. And one of those extends down to my taint, I think? Oh, that’s the one Copia suggested. But it should feel nice for you too, you know, if we - yeah. This one is just a silicone dildo. Oh, and this one goes over my balls.”

“The vibrating ones sound nice,” you said, nodding.

“I can’t choose. What if I just…I dunno, use them all?”

“All of them?” you asked incredulously. “Think you can handle that?”

“I guess it’s time for me to be a ho ho ho,” he remarked with a small smile. You couldn’t help but laugh at his silly joke. He never failed to put a smile on your face. You supposed that was why he was your favorite.

~

You looked back on the events from the days prior that led you into his bedroom for this very exchange. You were making Secret Satan cards for the children’s hospital in the library, making out with each other in between cards, desperately trying not to make any noise while the other Siblings were working or studying - and failing, miserably. He caressed your body with his tail, completely taking you by surprise.

You had made a one-off comment, without even thinking. “Damn, you fuck with that thing too?”

“Yeah actually I do,” he replied, his face stoic but eyes twinkling.

“Hm, I’d like to see that,” you said - again, what were you thinking? This was insane. Plus, he was one of Cardinal Copia’s head ghouls…you really couldn’t afford to distract him. But the holidays were here, which meant the band was getting a lengthy and much needed break. So maybe this was your chance at giving into your desires.

You finished up the cards, stacking them neatly in a pile. You were supposed to be helping the Siblings decorate and Mountain was supposed to meet the other ghouls in the mess hall before Mass. But…you had more important matters to attend to. You had agreed, since this would be your first time with a ghoul and adding a tail in the mix, that he should try a new experience too.

You walked together down the hallway towards the Ghoul dormitories, arms linked as you people watched. There were multiple Siblings hanging up garlands and lights along the corridors and you even spotted Papa Terzo terrorizing some young Sisters of Sin.

“Jingle Balls, suck my balls, make my chimney rise. Oh what fun it is to cum on my amore’s thighs,” he sang, draping tinsel around one’s neck and dangling some mistletoe in another’s face.

“…and I heard Satan’s hells bells on the rooftop, I swear it, I did!” you heard Nihil say to Imperator who merely said “Of course, Papa,” as she led him down the hall towards the chapel.

Finally, you made your way past the hustle and bustle of the busy Ministry hallways to the Ghoul dorms. As one of the top Clergy member’s head ghouls, Mountain actually had his own room. But he shared a wall with Swiss and Dew on either side, who would tease him relentlessly if they heard any goings on in the night.

So you opted for the middle of the evening, when everyone was likely to be at Mass. And here you were, your very first dick appointment with a ghoul.

You both kneeled in front of each other in his bed, and leaned into kiss one another, his arms holding onto yours and his tail wrapping around your thigh.

Fuck, maybe being with a ghoul would be better…it was almost like being held by three hands.

The tail was surprisingly soft, not sharp at the end even though the arrowhead tip looked pointy. It approached you just as softly as Mountain wanted, and you knew he could be just as rough as he wanted to be too.

You ran your hands through his hair, his short dark locks tickling your fingertips. His kiss was passionate, deep. His lips were soft and inviting.

He gingerly moved his tail up your legs, in between them, and slowly slipped the tip between your labia. You inhaled sharply as the fleshy bit met your sensitive bud, pressing on it almost like a button.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed.

He paused, pulling his tail sway slightly. “You okay?” he said, holding your face in his hands.

“Yeah, I - yeah, no - god, it’s just so…fuck, it feels amazing. Please, do it again.”

“My pleasure.” He re-entered, maneuvering around your folds and finding your slick pooled near your entrance. He poked around, gathering your arousal and sliding it around, back up to your clit and focusing there. “You’re so wet already. Good girl,” he purred. His cock twitched against your leg, bobbing up and down as he slowly grinded against you.

“Should we put a cock ring on you?” you whispered breathlessly, smiling as you nodded towards the bedside table.

Carefully, you helped him put the vibrating ring on. He spread lube on it and his whole member while you warmed some up in your hands and spread it along his perineum.

“Mmm,” he moaned quietly at your touch, closing his eyes.

You clicked the toy to its lowest vibration setting.

“Oh, god! Shit, they weren’t kidding! Ahhh. This is, oh fuck, wow!” His hand flew to his cock, which was bobbing up and down involuntarily.

“And that’s just the first setting. I’m guessing the other toys are a no-go?” you asked, hovering over him still, straddling his thigh.

He let out a sound that didn’t sound too convincing. “Yeeeeah…? Um, this is fine. Actually -” He clicked the vibrator off and handed you the remote for it. “When it looks like I need it.”

“I’ll tease you with it,” you said, trailing your hand along his balls and up his shaft.

“You better not,” he said, biting at your nose and missing as you pulled your head back in time. “All right. First time getting tail fucked. Ready?”

You rolled your eyes and pretended to punch him in the chest. “Yes, I’m ready.” How much different could it be, really? “I’m more concerned for you. You’ve never used a cock ring before, let alone a vibe,” you said, widening your eyes.

“We’ll be okay,” he said. Something in the soothing way he spoke, ugh you could just melt into him.

He leaned back against the headboard, his arm bent behind his head to prop himself up. “Ahhh,” he uttered, hissing, guiding his hand over yours stroking his cock. “Sssoo good.”

He looked you in the eyes as he touched himself, bringing his tail in between your legs again, pushing past your folds this time and going straight for your wet core.

You leaned back, propping yourself up with your hands behind you, moaning as he entered you, tossing your head back as your neck went slack. You straddled his waist, almost like you were scissoring.

You watched his tail slide in and out of you repeatedly, moving in a wave-like pattern with a dexterity that a finger or a cock couldn’t provide.

Your body relaxed and you slid onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Finally, the tip of his tail found your g-spot, and as you shuddered against his legs and let out a guttural sound you didn’t even know you could make, he made an “ah-ha!” sound and you could feel him add more pressure to your spot. All the muscles in his tail flexed, going tap tap tap along your walls. You clenched around him.

“Fuck, you’re so responsive,” he said, letting out an amused chuckle. “You’re fun.”

You shook yourself out of a trance-like state, almost entirely forgetting he was there. You forgot he was watching you like you were his own little porno, touching himself to the vision of you before him.

You leaned against his leg, resting your head by his knee. You lazily tickled along his thighs, in between his legs, caressing him, and looking into his eyes as you kissed his inner thigh. You shifted more on your back, arching it, resting one leg on his shoulder so his tail could go deeper inside you. He held onto your ankle by his shoulder, kissing it.

His tail flicked in and out of you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He slipped out of you and up to your clit, massaging it with the tip.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaimed. He tapped it against you in rapid succession - taptaptaptaptaptap - fucking hell! It had to be the musician in him, the quick and agile reflexes. He rubbed the upper part of his tail against your length, before flicking the arrowhead against your clit repeatedly. “Mounty, I’m going to cum! Fuck!!”

He held onto your leg, caressing it, while stroking himself with his other hand. He picked one motion and stuck with it - a firm, but gentle massage on your clit with his tailtip.

Your whole body quivered, your orgasm spilling over. You moaned and clutched onto his leg, biting into his skin to muffle the utterly pathetic moans you know would be coming out of your mouth.

“Ow, shit!” he exclaimed but you could barely hear him.

You bucked your hips against his tail to ride out the last smaller waves of your climax, before settling down again. He retracted his tail from between your legs, and you were left staring at the ceiling for a moment before hearing your name being called over and over again.

“Mmm?” you muttered. “Oh, sorry for biting you.”

He laughed. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you were enjoying yourself.”

You nodded feebly, feeling a little pathetic, but utterly blissed out.

“Think you have one more round in you?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, not even giving an answer.

He patted the mattress beside him. “C’mere.” He pulled you back up to your knees, which were trembling, between his legs. He held your chin in his hand and whispered, “You wanna know what it’s really like to get fucked?” You nodded in his palm. “Good girl.”

You straddled his waist, hovering over his still erect cock.

“Did you want to use protection?” he asked, leaning over to his drawer to reach inside for some condoms. You shook your head. “You sure?”

You nodded and said, “Yes. Please Mountain, please just fuck me.”

He handed you the ring vibrator remote, but spoke before fully relinquishing it to you. “You hold great power in your hands. Use it well.”

Fucking nerd. You laughed at his corny ass joke and nodded, saying, “Yes sir,” in a fake serious voice.

He leaned over for the lube bottle and spread some all over his hands, covering his tail with it then circling your asshole, getting it nice and wet. You draped your arms over his shoulders as he took your waist in his hands, guiding you over his cock, lining it up with your entrance, then sinking you down onto his lap.

Fuck, he felt so good. It was incredible. And very different from the tail. His cock was firmer, building a different kind of pressure but every bit as pleasurable. You both moaned as you sank slowly on him. You moved your hips up and down, already so tired from before, and starting to falter.

His tail wrapped around your ass before teasing and prodding around it, finally slipping in. The feeling, while out of this world, was incredibly overwhelming. You fell down on his cock with zero grace, shuddering and breathing loudly, moaning every few breaths.

“Mmm!” he groaned, grimacing. He said your name through gritted teeth.

“Oh fuck I’m sorry,” you said.

“It’s okay, it takes a lot more than your beautiful ass to hurt me,” he said with a smile, kissing your lips sweetly while giving your rear a smack. “Mm? Everything okay?”

“I can’t, Mounty, I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

With zero hesitation, he removed his tail from your rear end and started to pull himself out of your entrance.

“No, no, fuck, please that feels so good. I just can’t, my legs are fucking jello. I need you to fuck me.”

“I can do that,” he said warmly. He picked you up, his strong hands grasping your waist as he slammed you up and down on his cock. He pummeled into you from below. “Just relax, I got this.”

“Ahhh, fuck!” you wailed, his tail entering your ass once more, this time without teasing the invitation but instead thrusting in with more force. You let your body slack against his, letting him do all the work.

“Remember your very important job?” he said, eyeing the remote that fell out of your hand.

You nodded, tears in your eyes from the intense sensations ripping through your body. You clicked the button, feeling the buzz of the ring on his cock rub against your clit everytime you fell back down on him. You bared down, grinding against the ring and rubbing yourself along his pubic bone. You clicked the next button, heightening the sensation for you both.

“Oh god - I’m not gonna last,” he grunted. “I’m going to cum. Is it okay if I finish inside you?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you said breathlessly.

“You sure? Last chance before I blow.”

“Stop being so polite and just fucking cum inside me!” you shouted.

“Christ, okay!” He groaned as he continued to fuck into you, jerking his hips forward as he shot warm semen inside you, spilling out. He stopped, still holding onto you, burying his face in your chest, breathing heavily. You sat on his cock, the buzz of the cock ring now sitting against your clit. From that and his tail still prodding away at your ass, you came again just a few seconds after him.

“See,” you began, breathing hard and climbing up to him. “When you asked if I wanted to know what it’s really like to get fucked, I swear I thought you were going to use your drumsticks.”

“The thought crossed my mind. So how was it? Any different? Just as good…better?”

“Yeah…like a really wiggly dick,” you answered truthfully.

He laughed boisterously at you. “I always appreciate your candor.”