#when you get to the final pulls and it’s just RIGHT THERE AUGH

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Wayne Family Holiday Traditions | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Reader!Magician

Synopsis: After years of struggling to find the perfect gift, Bruce and Vivian finally perfected gift-giving to one another, and it's something that became a tradition in the Wayne family.

What to give a man who has everything?

That was the question that Vivian Pryor pondered about as she roamed the stores in Gotham’s shopping district for the fifth time that week. She had done all of her Christmas shopping last weekend. Have secured the gifts for her colleagues, for her family in Liverpool, Alfred,  (she got him a really expensive bottle of good scotch), and Dick (she got him the video game that Alfred refuses to let the boy have until he completes a whole month of attendance at school). But Bruce…

She had no idea what to give someone who actually has everything, who can buy anything he wanted. He is a billionaire, so getting him something from the mall feels wrong for Vivian. Since she finished her shopping, Bruce’s name – which was at the very top of her shopping list – was the only one that wasn’t crossed out. At first she thought she could just get his gift somewhere in the week, just so she could have a good long think about it, but then that long thinking led to a rut that she can’t get out of.

One of her friends laughed at her saying: “How do you not know what to get your boyfriend?”

Her reply, “How about you get a gift for a billionaire.”

Her friend’s reply? “I’d wrap myself in a ribbon and wait for him at home.”

Vivian already had that idea but she didn’t want to look like someone shallow and narcissistic to think she was a gift already. Besides, holiday sex is different from holiday gifts. Yes, they come separately – well, to her they are. 

Now, here she was, roaming around the town looking for something to give him. 

Augh! She knew she should have held onto that Grey Ghost toy instead of buying it for him on the spot! But how was she supposed to know that they’ll still be dating until now? She got him that gift during the first few months into their relationship. And she really wanted to get him something that was from his childhood that brought him joy. 

Oh, the smile he had that day when he saw the Grey Ghost figurine, and how his eyes lit up when he told her times he would ask his father if he could stay up just to watch the show. She can’t not get him that toy. 

Food was the safest option, and she already gave him homemade brownies that he could bring for patrol (at that time, Bruce didn’t know she knew he was Batman and just packed the brownies in a way he can easily put in his utility belt). She can’t give him the same thing again. Right?

Well, after they got back together, she most certainly can’t. It’s gotta be something special. 

But what?

What can she give him? 

A vacation? Yeah, right—a workaholic like him won’t use that. 

Dinner out? They always have dinner out.

The sound of her phone ringing pulled Vivian from her reverie and stopped her from staring at the shop selling Batman merchandise. 

It was Bruce.

Great.

“Hello?” Vivian answered.

“Is everything okay, Viv?” Bruce asked, quite concerned with the lack of her usual jolly greeting.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Just doing some last minute Holiday shopping.”

“You already left campus?”

“Yeah, sorry about not mentioning it. But I’m at the shopping district now, maybe we could meet there and have dinner here?”

“That’d be nice. Just send me a place for us to meet and I’ll meet you there.”

“Sure. See ya, Wayne.”

“See you, Pryor,” she was sure he was smiling then. 

Maybe she should just take a raincheck on that gift now and try again tomorrow.

Bruce arrived a couple of minutes later and they met at the restaurant that Vivian told him about. Unfortunately, the tables inside were already taken, so they opted for the ones outside, even if it meant being in the cold winter. 

“Are you sure you’re not freezing?” Bruce asked her as she held her hot coffee – not warm, hot – and drank it without burning her tongue. And the fact she had her bonnet, and her beige coat. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Vivian asked.

“Where’s your scarf?” 

“I… accidentally left it at home, and I was running late so I didn’t bother to go back for it,” she winced as she admitted the childish thing.

Without a word, Bruce got up and moved his seat to be beside her, then placed his own scarf over her neck. 

“Bruce, no – you’ll be freezing,” Vivian tried to give it back.

“Trust me, I’m used to this. Besides, I got all the warmth I need,” he wrapped an arm around her.

Vivian hid her blush by drinking her coffee. “You know, I should be used to this kind of weather, but for some reason I never really got used to the cold.”

Bruce smirked and whispered to her ear, “Maybe I could help you warm up a little when we get to the manor?”

Vivian blushed even more and she tried to hide it. “And what about patrol?”

“That could wait. I can’t let you freeze to death,” Bruce placed a kiss on her cheek. She was cold. Really cold. “Why don’t you use your magic?”

Vivian groaned and wanted to hit herself. She’s been so preoccupied with finding him a gift that she forgot about magic! Back then she can use her magic easily and doesn’t need to shut if off to warm her in the winter or cool her in the summer. But with her stopping using magic, it was hard to get those habits back again. Especially when she got the pleasures of air conditioning and a working heater to do the job.

Has she become lazy? Yes, she won’t lie about that. She is a lazy witch, but she’s trying to get back on her feet.

Seeing her reaction, he laughed and said: “That’s why we practice.”

“Oh shut it,” Vivian used a spell and spread warmth around her and Bruce. She was about to hand back his scarf but he told her: “No, keep it. I like seeing you wear my things.”

“Is that so?”

“If only we could have the manor to ourselves, I'd prefer if you walk around wearing my clothes.”

“Just your clothes?”

“Just like that morning where you greeted me good morning,” Bruce leaned down to kiss her. That morning he was mentioning it was one of the days she spent the night at Wayne Manor. Vivian had woken up earlier than Bruce on a weekend and decided to stay in the room and relax a bit. She opted to wear one of his shirts instead of her own, as she asked Alfred if she could have them washed along with the others he was throwing in the washing machine. When Bruce woke up he was greeted by the sight of her looking through his personal book collection in the room, only wearing his shirt and nothing underneath. He knew she had nothing because whenever she would get on her toes to reach up for something at the top shelf, he'd see her bare bottom as the shirt would hike up. They spent the entire day trapped his room that day and when they got out for a late lunch, Dick was bored out of his mind. 

“Maybe,” Vivian said back between their kisses. When she felt his hand on her thigh, Vivian placed a hand on his chest and told him that they were in a public place.

“We've done far risky things,” he kept kissing her.

But not out there. 

He was only teasing her, she knew, but the anticipation on the what could possibly happen made her heart beat faster. 

“Where's the bill? Why is it taking so long?” Vivian muttered when she pulled away but ke kept kissing her on the side of her lips, her cheek, her jawline. 

“Impatient?”

“You're making it hard for me to be patient, Wayne,” she laughed.

“Bruce?” A voice of a woman had Bruce stop in his kisses and turn his attention to the woman standing there. She was tall, slender, wore a fur coat, and very beautiful. 

“Hi, um…” Bruce began.

“Stacy,” she supplied.

“Right, Stacy. How are things?”

“Same thing, getting modeling gigs for bigger brands – what about you? I haven't heard from you in a while.”

Oh. Stacy is one of billionaire-playboy Bruce Wayne's former flings, Vivian realized.

“Yes, because I'm now with someone — Stacy, this Professor Vivian Pryor. She works at Gotham University. Viv, this is Stacy, she's a model,” Bruce introduced.

Vivian got up and held out her hand to the woman. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The woman looked at her for a moment, taking her in from head to toe, and then took her hand to shake. Did she just judge her right there? Vivian thought.

“I guess you are in a serious relationship,” Stacy said to Bruce. “You’re not really the type of girls he would bring around every night.”

Did she just say she's ugly without saying she's ugly? Vivian raised a brow. 

“Right,” Vivian muttered.

“Stacy –” Bruce began.

“Where is that bill? I'll just go pay for our meal,” Vivian got her purse, and when Bruce tried to stop her, she said to him, “I'll be right back. Just catch up with Stacy while I'm pay.”

“Viv –”

Vivian left and went inside where she met halfway with the waiter about to bring their bill and said she'll do the transaction at the counter itself. He didn't mind but it did give off the wrong impression to other customers. After getting their takeaways for Dick and Alfred, Vivian went back out and found Bruce waiting for her by the door.

“Where'd your friend go?” She asked.

“She's not my friend, Viv,” Bruce took the takeaway bag. “Listen, whatever she implied — she's just being mean about –”

“Bruce, I'm fine. Do you really think I'd cry about something like that? I'm an adult woman, I've dealt with people worse than Stacy. So, that won't make feel bad. What I did there was just me getting out of an awkward situation. Okay?”

Bruce wasn't convinced, she could see it in his eyes. He wrapped his arm around her and placed a long and loving kiss on her lips.

“I love you, Viv,” he whispered to her.

A smile crept on her face. It was only a couple of days ago when they finally said their first ‘I love you’ to one another. And it was Bruce who said it first, and since then he would always say it to her with sincerity.

“I love you too, Bruce,” she kissed him again. “Let's go home.”

~*~

As promised, Bruce spent the night with her before going to patrol. He only dropped off the food for Dick and Alfred to the butler before pulling her along up the stairs and to his room, and calling out to Dick that they'll go out for patrol in a few hours so he should eat his dinner now. Vivian wasn't someone who was that into a praise kink, but she did appreciate the way Bruce kissed her body and how he literally got on his knees and kiss her thighs and then ate her out.

God, that man knew how to use his tongue. 

After what felt like an hour of love-making and cuddling in bed, Vivian was left lying in bed as Bruce got out of the shower and equipped himself with his Batman suit. 

“You're not getting dressed?” Bruce asked.

“No. Why does it bother you?” Vivian sat up, teasingly dropping the blanket, showing him her nude chest.

Bruce walked up to her and leaned down to kiss her lips. “I need to focus, Viv.”

“Think of this as something to look forward to when you get back.”

“Then I better make sure this patrol goes smoothly.”

“Take care out there, Batman. And look out for Boy Wonder.”

Bruce kissed her again said, “Yes, Ma'am.”

The knock on the door had them fix themselves, with Bruce pulling up his cowl, and Vivian the blanket to hide her body from Dick who opened the door.

“Thought so,” he muttered when he saw Vivian waving at him then turned to Bruce. “How long are you going to make me wait?”

“I'm coming,” Bruce said, making Vivian laugh.

“You two are gross,” said Dick.

“Let's go, chum,” Bruce ushered him out.

“Good luck! And stay safe out there!” Vivian called out.

“We will! Night, Viv!” Dick replied before Bruce closed the door.

Alone in the bedroom, Vivian got dressed in her underwear but wore one of Bruce's shirts and her trousers so she could roam around the manor. Might as well get familiar with the place. In one of her ventures in the manor, she came across a wall where a sword was supposed to be, she'd know because that wall mount was made for holding swords, and the mantle below it looked like it used to hold something too.

“There once was a crossbow displayed there,” Alfred's voice startled Vivian.

“Alfred, you scared me,” Vivian took a breath.

“Apologies, Professor Pryor,” Alfred approached her. “I presume all is well? Are you in need of a Plan B, Ma'am? After the last time Master Bruce went out to get one, I have decided to have one on hand in case of unplanned occasions.”

Vivian blushed in embarrassment. She's known Alfred for two years now and she's not sure if she's that close with him to talk about those things. AKA, her sex-life with the man he raised as a son. 

“No, I — uh — I… we were — Bruce was wearing a… condom,” she whispered the last part. “But thank you for mentioning it – hold on, is that why the last time I slept over there were Plan B pills on the bedside, with a glass of water?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Alfred, we do not deserve you,” Vivian laughed.

“No, you don't,” he joked. But their laughter ceased when they turned to the empty holders on the mantle and the wall. “Up there, there used to be a sword too. Young Master Bruce would call it Zorro's Sword because of how similar it looked to the prop in the film.”

Zorro, Vivian remembered. The night his parents were shot in that alley, they were coming out of the cinema after watching Zorro. 

“I see,” Vivian said. “And the crossbow?”

Alfred sighed and gestured for her to follow. “When he was a boy, there is a myth that parents in Gotham would tell their children about a secret organization dating hundreds of years back in Gotham City, it was said that they were built by Gotham's elite and they are the ones that rule Gotham in the shadows.”

“The Court of Owls,” Vivian said.

“Yes.”

“I read about them when I took a course in Gotham history, and I wrote about them in a section of my book as part of Gotham's history too. They say they wear owl masks too, hence the name… others claim it's nothing but a cover for a sex cult.”

“People's imaginations are much wilder now.”

“How does that connect to the crossbow?”

“Well, after the death of his parents, Master Bruce believed the Court of Owls were behind it and began his investigation. He would escape his room and his home in the middle of the night to investigate, bringing with him the crossbow. The first time he used it was to shoot an owl in the attic, after that I took the thing away and hid it. The young man knew where to find it and stole it and went off with his investigation.

“One day his investigation got him trapped in an old building at Gotham. He was missing for three days. When we found him, he was unconscious, dehydrated and starving. He was in a comatose for three days and when he woke, he finally gave up in his search and said that the Court of Owls,” he sighed. “Do not exist…”

Vivian frowned as she imagined a young Bruce Wayne going through that. He was just a boy and…

They arrived at the study where Alfred opened one of the secret cabinets and showed the crossbow.

“The only place I knew he wouldn't find it, and is under lock and key,” said Alfred. “I never put it back because I thought it would just bring back bad memories.”

“Just like the sword,” Vivian sighed. “I also noticed something missing from there. A photograph?”

“A small portrait of his great-grandfather, Alan Wayne. There were suspicions that he too was a member of the Court but no evidence showed that he was. Master Bruce had it removed… I'm afraid that section of the manor is simply filled with bad memories that Master Bruce would prefer to not see again.”

“I can’ only imagine why,” Vivian frowned. “When I first came here I felt how heavy the manor was. The long history it holds and the tragedy that happened to Thomas and Martha Wayne and how it affected Bruce.” Her eyes went to the portrait in the study, it was of the Wayne family – Thomas, Martha, and a young Bruce.  “I could only imagine how lively this place was when Mrs. Wayne was alive and running the show.”

“It was. In fact, there were many of us staff here. But paranoia got to Master Bruce that he had everyone dismissed but me. His guardian, and the only one he trusted. It took him a long time before he opened the manor again to people, and not just for parties, but for someone to freely walk its halls again,” Alfred's gaze was on her, she could feel it. “May I speak freely, Professor Pryor?”

Vivian's brows furrowed. “Of course, what is it?”

“I do hope you do not take this badly but, ever since Master Bruce brought you to the Manor, and the days you spend here, this old girl started to feel like how it was when Martha Wayne was around. When both of them were here, and when young Master Bruce used to run around causing trouble, bringing laughter in its halls. And though I know that the young Master Bruce will never return after that night, you have brought back a ray of hope and happiness in him, and it makes this old man glad to see him smile again.”

Vivian looked away in embarrassment.

Seeing her reaction, Alfred thought he have overstepped his ground and made her feel awkward with that weight of information and tried to apologize, “I meant, your presence brings light in the manor as well – and Master Dick around, he too livens up the place. I'm not saying that it's just because of you — Master Bruce very much cares for you, Professor Pryor. He cares deeply.”

“I understand what you meant,” Vivian said. “I can imagine how the place would look like in the holidays. I bet the manor used to be its own Christmas village with everyone here.”

“You can say so. Thomas and Martha Wayne would always invite the families of the staff to join us for the Christmas dinners — if they wish the spend the holidays here — and Master Bruce would play with the other children. He was loved by all, Master Bruce, that in the morning of Christmas, the staff would leave trails of little presents for him to look around in the manor. His own little treasure hunt.”

Vivian laughed but an idea came to mind.

“You know, Alfred, you just saved me another trip aimlessly walking around Gotham's shopping district.”

~*~

On the day of Christmas, Bruce woke up later than the others. Nothing new. Oddly enough, neither Alfred, Dick, nor Vivian were in the sitting room, the dining area, nor the kitchen. But there was a note that stuck on the fridge written in Vivian's penmanship that they were having a late lunch at the solar in the East Wing of the manor. Then in Alfred's penmanship saying: I brought the coffee here, Sir. No need to work in the kitchen. Right, he was banned from using the kitchen.

Walking the familiar path to the solar, Bruce looked around his surroundings, to see if there was anything different in the manor. He noticed the new curtains that Alfred had installed for the holidays. It was in the shades of emerald and maroon; then there were the Christmas decorations. He wondered how many trees there were in the manor. There was one in the sitting room, but then there was another in this area but smaller. Have they always had that many in the place during the holidays? 

He made a mental note to tell Alfred to stop with the extra trees. They rarely go to the other parts of the manor anyway. 

Then he saw it. The mantle where the crossbow and the sword used to be, but then something was off. There were other things that took the place of the sword and crossbow. On the wall-mounted holder, instead of the old sword he used to play with as a kid (despite his parents telling him not to) were candy canes that form an ‘x’, the on the wall where he have removed Alan Wayne's photo, in its place was  a photo that he was sure he never saw before. 

It was a enlarged photo booth photo of Vivian, Dick, and Alfred, all wearing Santa hats and were holding a card that says: “Happy Holidays! Congratulations on finding the first clue! We're not in the Solar, but you can find us by solving that clue.”

Bruce looked down on the mantle and saw the Christmas card with a cheesy holiday photo, and inside was a note written with Vivian's penmanship. It was a riddle, a poorly made one and he answered easily, and then at the very bottom she made a post-script: sorry for the shitty riddle, but hurry up!

Laughing, Bruce brought the card with him and went to the next destination. It was to the West Wing gallery. He used to go there and look at the paintings his mother purchased. Now it was empty but for one frame pinned to the wall with a photo of Alfred wearing a Santa Claus getup and a note telling him to wear the the jumper and to answer the riddle.

What jumper? He thought. Then he saw the present on the console and opened the box. 

No.

It was an ugly Christmas jumper. 

He hated those, even when he was a kid.

Inside the box there was another note, this time it was Vivian's handwriting: it's a holiday thing, wear it. Then in Alfred's handwriting, it had cypher. No sweat, he solved it easily and went to the next destination, on the way he was changing into the jumper — it was emerald with Christmas balls going a cross this torso. The next place was at the Great Hall where he would host parties. When he was a boy his parents would host galas there, and he would watch from the top of the stairs.

This time it was Dick's photo he saw with a present. Dick was wearing an elf's hat and ears and was holding the note with the riddle of the next place. The sitting room, he answered, and inside the box was a Santa Hat for him to wear.

Venturing back to the sitting room, he expected them to be there but the place was empty and the same as he left it earlier but for the present that was placed on the table. Opening the box he was met by an old Grey Ghost merchandise and inside was the photo of Vivian holding the last note — he hoped it was.

Say: wohs sevlesrouy.

“Wohs sevlesrouy,” Bruce did what he was told to. Was that a spell? He thought, then one moment the sitting room was empty with just the tree and the small decorations, now there were food on the table, the tree filled with presents, and a fire lit to keep them warm. Looking behind him, he saw Alfred, Dick, and Vivian standing there, all wearing Christmas jumpers and Santa hats.

“Happy Holidays!” They greeted him.

Bruce smiled and let out a laugh. “You did all that so you can set this up?”

“Actually, we were already here when you first came,” Dick said.

“What do you…”

“I did a little spell to get you to do this little treasure hunt that I set up with Alfred and Dick's help,” Vivian answered. “I used a spell to hide us and only when you say the words in this card,” she showed the card he held. “Will the glamor be removed and appear ourselves to you. Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Is this your Christmas gift to me? A little treasure hunt?” Bruce wrapped his arms around her.

“Yes, and that Grey Ghost toy. Did you enjoy it?” Vivian asked.

Bruce leaned down and kissed her lips. “I did. Very much, especially the photos. I think I'll keep them up somewhere so we get to see them… but the jumper.”

“Every family has an ugly Christmas jumper, and since we are a family we should to. So, you cannot take that off, Wayne.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” he kissed her again and again and again –

“Ahem!” Dick called for their attention. “We're right here, and I am starving!”

“Alright, alright, kiddo,” Vivian laughed and released Bruce but took his hand to lead him to the couch to sit as she and Alfred handed over the plates for food and hot cocoa for everyone. “Also, there is another thing for the holidays,” Vivian conjured something from midair. It was an old-looking book. “When I was a girl my dad would always read to me and my Mom, and later my siblings A Christmas Carol, maybe we can read this together later?”

Bruce smiled and took her hand. “We can read it by the fire before heading to bed.”

As they had their holiday meal as a family, Bruce's smile never fell as he watched his family enjoy the holidays, and as new traditions take place.

~ Many Years Later ~

Mastering the art of gift-giving was a skill that Vivian had to learn gradually, especially when it comes to Bruce. Her first successful and real gift became their family tradition of a holiday treasure-hunt for the children around the manor, ugly holiday jumpers, and from reading classic Christmas stories to watching Christmas movies all bundled together by the fire. As the years progressed, her gifts to Bruce had one focal point: family. 

While he looks like a man who has everything with his riches, Bruce Wayne is one of the loneliest person in the world and Vivian realized that the best gift she could give him was something he will remember. Not material things but memories that he will cherish and that would always make him laugh.

And those holiday memories were frozen in time by photos they would take by the tree every year and were placed on the mantle where everyone’s stockings are. Before it was just the photo of Bruce, Vivian, Alfred, and Dick, with their respective stockings – which Alfred made – hanging by the fire; then came Jason and they got another photo the family with him and his own stocking, then Tim, the Cassandra, Stephanie and Damian, Duke, Kate would join occasionally, and the latest one was with Valerie in her holiday onesie and still a baby sleeping in her mother’s arms. 

This year, they plan to have another family photo with Valerie, now two-years-old  and can stay awake with them for a bit longer to get a photo. Also because she requested they take it again with Greg this time. How can they say no to that?

But holiday traditions don’t always go as planned. 

One of the new traditions of the Wayne family was to do volunteer work around Gotham a day before Christmas. With Vivian bringing with her Valerie, who she carried in a carrier on her back (the girl enjoys using that) they were with Dick and Damian at the petting zoo where they helped animals and the children visiting. Valerie enjoyed her time with the animals and the other kids who welcomed her in their circle. At first they were a little intimidated, she was a Wayne after all, but then Valerie fell on the snow and dirtied her clothes and they all realized that she was just like them. A kid who gets their clothes dirty too. 

It was a fun sight to see her daughter play with the other children of Gotham, especially those from the orphanage that Martha Wayne put up.

“The kid’s a natural in making friends,” Dick said while holding Haley in his arms. 

“She is,” Vivian laughed as she saw one of the children holding Valerie and bringing her back.

“Mrs. Wayne, I think she’s freezing now,” the children said.

One cue, Valerie sneezed and snot came out.

“Ew,” the children laughed.

“Okay, time to warm up,” Vivian took Valerie and hugged her tight in her jacket to give her warmth. Dick helped in wiping her nose clean and putting his bonnet on Valerie to keep her warm. “Did you have fun?”

Valerie nodded and pointed to the direction of the children watching her. “Play?”

“Sorry, Val, you gotta get warm or you’ll be sick on Christmas,” the children said.

Valerie pouted.

“Here, we made this for you,” one of the children held out a carved toy out of wood. It was one of the activities in the place for the children to enjoy. Simple wood carving where they can make toys of their own. “It was Peter who made it and he’s really good at carving wood.”

The toy was a nutcracker and Valerie happily accepted it and said thank you.

“She won’t let go of that tonight,” Vivian said. “Thank you. I hope everyone had fun.”

“We did. Thanks, Mrs. Wayne. If Val needs friends she can visit any time – we’ll be right there at the orphanage.”

Vivian smiled sadly and reached out to mess with their hair. “I hope everything is okay there. Is it warm in the orphanage?”

“Yeah! We got the new heaters and the blankets too! Mrs. Hall said we were going to have Christmas dinner too!”

At that moment, Jason and the others who knew how to cook were helping out in preparing the children’s Christmas dinner. An early start but nothing beats a good meal after a day of playing in the snow.

“Why don’t we head inside and have some hot chocolate. I got someone do a run so we can all get warm in there, besides I’m sure the animals are cold now too,” Vivian got up and ushered everyone inside the petting zoo. Inside they were greeted by the sight of Bruce waiting with the table of hot cocoa and snacks for everyone to enjoy, and presents that sat in a huge red sack in the corner.

“Thanks, Mr. Wayne!” The children said as they lined up to get their cocoa and snack.

After greeting the children and handing each of them presents, Bruce went to his family who sat at one of the tables with their own drink and snack.

“Did Val get sick?” Bruce asked when he noticed his daughter’s red nose.

“Nothing I can’t fix,” Vivian winked at him. “She was having so much fun that she didn’t realize she was freezing. The kids brought her back when they saw the snot coming down.”

“Dada!” Valerie reached for him.

Bruce happily took his daughter and let her sit on his lap while he cleaned her face.

“Jason said that the dinner for the children are almost done, we can head back to the orphanage after they finish their drinks and snacks,” said Bruce.

“Good, because that’s all they’ve been talking about. And tomorrow, I can’t wait for our little family holiday tradition,” Vivian kissed his cheek. “Got everything set in the manor?”

Bruce smirked. “Damian won’t find the clues that easily this time, and I made sure that Val can participate too.”

“The Wayne Family Holiday Treasure Hunt. And after that we could watch Polar Express or Klaus for the movies? Those were the top two picks for tonight.”

“We’ll see, let’s have them battle it out the old fashion way.”

“Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Exactly.”

The sound of his phone ringing had Bruce reaching for it to answer. It was Alfred. Upon answering, he was met by the worried voice of the man at the other line with disturbing news. Seeing the expression on his face, Vivian knew what it meant. 

“Understood, I’m heading back now,” Bruce ended the call. He then turned to his wife with an apologetic look on his face. “Something happened in Central Gotham, I need to go. I’ll take Damian with me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll handle things here. Go and take Dick with you too.”

“No, Dick will stay with you. I won’t feel comfortable with leaving you both alone until you’re both at the manor,” Bruce leaned down to kiss her and then he kissed Val on top of her head. “I’ll be back.”

“Dada?” Val asked, feeling that her father was going to leave again.

“I’m sorry, Val, but Dada needs to take care of something.”

As if she understood, Val nodded and placed a sloppy and snotty kiss on his cheek. Bruce didn’t mind, he just wiped the snot off once his daughter wasn’t looking. Getting up, Bruce called for Damian and the two of them were running out of the place. Vivian had to make an excuse that it was some sort of emergency that they needed to see in the manor. 

~*~

Returning to the Manor, Dick, Jason, and the others had to head to the cave and get change so they can join Batman and Robin in the case, this left Vivian, Valerie, and Alfred in the house. As much as they would have wanted to wait for the others to return for dinner, Valerie was hungry and Alfred had medicine he needed to take for his ailments. After dinner, Vivian had Alfred rest for the night, reminding him that she can do the dishes while giving Valerie a bath (“Alfred, the best gift you can give me is seeing you relax,” Vivian joked, “Let me handle these.”).

“Dada?” Valerie asked while playing with her toys in the tub.

“Dada is at work with Damian and the others,” Vivian washed the soap off them both.

Valerie grabbed the Bat-duckie (a rubber-duck with Batcowl that Stephanie saw and bought) and showed it to her mother.

“Yup, Bat-duckie,” Vivian laughed. “Okay, duckie, time to get out.”

After draining the tub, Vivian took her daughter and brought her to the master bedroom’s bed. With Bruce still out, she decided to let Valerie sleep there with her until her father comes home. Besides, Bruce tends to take their daughter from her nursery and have her sleep between them every after his patrol.

Putting on the Batman onesie, Valerie started crawling towards the three books Vivian had put out for her to choose from for tonight’s reading, but Vivian pulled her back, making the girl laugh, so she could finish doing the buttons of the clothes.

“Alright, alright, go pick one for storytime,” Vivian took the chance to finish getting dressed as her daughter crawled towards the books and inspected each one, as if it were the first time she was reading them again. But with how the corners were creased and the pages have seen better days, that was the hundredth time they’ve read those books and Valerie doesn’t get tired of them.

When Valerie didn’t seem to find anything she liked, the toddler crawled down the bed, clutching on the comforter for leverage, and ran to her reading nook at her father’s bedside and choose from the handful of books they keep there.

“You miss, Dada, don’t you?” Vivian whispered as she watched the girl look closely at the Father-Daughter’s pile of books.

Valerie finally found the book she wanted to read and showed it to her mother. It was Disney's Treasure Planet Children's Storybook, one of their daughter’s favorite movies of all after watching it with Dick and Barbara. When she saw that in the bookstore, she immediately showed it to her father and asked him to read it to her. Bruce purchased the book – not caring of its expensive price since it’s one of the collectable items of the movie – and would read it to her every night she would ask him to.

“Let’s go,” Vivian pulled her daughter up to the bed and had them snuggle under the covers. “Where did you and Dada left off?”

Valerie turned the pages until they came across the part where Silver and Hawkins opened the gate of Treasure Planet. They began their story, with Vivian using different voices for each character and – to make it interesting – used her magic to pop-out the characters from the book and move around before them. Valerie listened and watched intensely as they read the story, following the words that would pop out of the pages for her to remember what they look like and sound like. Eventually – before they could make it to the end – Valerie fell asleep.

Yawning, Vivian checked the time –

It was that late already? She thought. Maybe this case was a little too much for Batman and his Robins.

Or not.

The bedroom door creaked open and in came Batman with his cowl pulled down and his gaze never leaving the sight of his wife and daughter in bed about to go to sleep. 

“You’re still awake?” Bruce asked.

“She just fell asleep,” Vivian answered and greeted him with a kiss. “How was the emergency.”

“Handled. It was Faust causing trouble, we handled it with the League. Harley Quinn was there.”

“To lend a hand or cause chaos?”

“Both,” Bruce let his cowl and cape drop, along with his gloves so he could pick up his daughter from the bed. “You finished the book without me?”

“No, we haven’t reached the ending yet. She misses you, that’s why she wanted to read it,” Vivian placed it back on his bedside. Watching him cradle their daughter would always bring a warmth in her chest that had Vivian fall in love all over for him. The look in his eyes as he watched their daughter spoke a thousand words of love; the way he held her looked like someone holding a porcelain doll and a cherished treasure. 

It was as if Valerie didn’t poop or puke on them both as she grew up. 

“I’ll take her back to her nursery,” Bruce said to her.

“What do you mean? Don’t you want her to sleep here beside us?”

“I do, she does every night, and I love it. But I feel like I haven’t been a husband to my wife for a while now,” Bruce turned to her with those blue eyes of his that would still make her blush.

“You haven’t neglected me, if that’s what you mean,” Vivian reassured him.

“I’ll be right back,” With that, he left, bringing with him Valerie who he placed in her crib, tucked in with Echo and Greg the Gargoyle around her. When he came back, he had with him the baby monitor, which he tossed at Vivian’s direction before heading to the shower. 

Hearing the water running and the door slightly ajar, Vivian thought for a moment and decided – fuck it, she can just dry her hair again with magic later. Getting up, she took off her clothes and knocked on the shower door.

“Is there something you need?” Bruce asked but he froze when he saw her standing here in the nude.

“Maybe you want some company?” Vivian shrugged.

He moved aside to let her in, and as soon as the shower door was shut, he caged his wife against the wall and captured her in a kiss. 

“I missed you,” Bruce whispered as he trailed kisses down her neck.

“I miss you too,” she wrapped her arms around him. When he pulled away from the kiss, Vivian thought he wanted something specific and was about to go down on her knees when but Bruce held her up.

“No. I just want you here with me,” He wrapped his arms around her and buries his face at the base of her neck. 

Smiling, Vivian turned off the shower and opened the door. “Okay,” she whispered and held him tight.

~*~

In bed, the couple laid in each others arms as they enjoyed each other's company in silence. It was one of the beauties of their relationship, they can just be there without saying a word or doing anything. Even the silence was enough for them, all that matters was they have each other's company.

“Our anniversary is coming,” Bruce suddenly spoke.

“Bruce, it won't be until April,” Vivian laughed. “You're way to advanced.”

“We didn't do much this year, so I was thinking we take a trip. Just the two of us.”

“Where?”

Bruce adjusted his hold on her, propping her leg over him and holding her even closer. “That's why I mentioned it now because I know it'll take us time to find the right place.”

“Kind of hard since we've gone to most of the cities around the world.”

“Not always for pleasure, most of the time it's because of work. Both our day jobs and the League. Do you have any place in mind you want to spend at least two days of vacation?”

She turned to her husband in disbelief. “You are initiating a two-day vacation? Ha! You are growing old, my love. Back then I can't even get you to agree to one night trip to New York.”

“We had our honeymoon that lasted for two weeks. And come on, it's New York, Viv.”

She rolled her eyes. “The New Jerseyan in you is coming out. What's gotten you to think like this, Batman?”

Bruce laughed and kissed her. 

He's avoiding the question.

Bruce never kept secrets from her, but he does tend to procrastinate when it was something that would make her worry or could possibly ruin the mood they were in.

“Bruce.”

Another kiss.

“My love, tell me,” she softly pushed him away.

Sighing, he admitted: “The other night, I was chasing a teenager who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And in the chase my knee…”

“Oh, Bruce,” Vivian sat up and had him lay on his back.

“Viv, come back.”

“I know, but let me see,” She pulled down the blanket and propped his heavy leg on her lap. The stitches from his multiple surgeries were the first thing she saw, along with the scars she got from being Batman. Seeing them, she leaned down and kissed the part where the biggest scar was. It was when she thought she might have to amputate his leg but Vivian healed him and held him together until they got him to a surgeon that fixed his injuries.

“Did it hurt tonight?” She asked him.

“No.”

She looked at him with a deadpan look.

“There was some slight feeling of discomfort.”

Placing a hand on his knee, Vivian began the spell that spread warmth throughout his veins and muscles and had Bruce sighing in relief.

She scoffed. “Not in pain, huh? Don't even think about sitting up.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Oracle.”

“Clark?”

There was a moment of silence before he admitted. “I asked him to use his x-ray vision to see the problem.”

“Good to know that you would go to your husband first before your wife,” she teased him, which earned a poke on the side, which tickled her. “Does it feel better now?”

“Yes. Can you, please, lay down with me?” Bruce pulled her to his side again. “If you're wondering about if I have thought about retiring, it has crossed my mind…”

“I just want you to still be you when you finally decide to pass on the cowl or hang it up in the cave. You're not getting any younger, you know, you're becoming an old man,” they laughed.

“An old man with a young wife.”

“Please, forties is not young.”

“You still look young.”

“I have white hair now, and I'm getting more wrinkles.”

“You're still beautiful, Viv.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.”

Bruce laughed and kissed his wife. “There are times when I think that this is just a never ending battle. That I should just let it be because Batman can't save people from themselves. I cannot save Gotham from itself. The people here refuse change. This is the world they want.”

Vivian frowned as she remembered the night he said something similar and broke down, he did consider hanging up the cowl but then one night there were no violent crimes in Gotham. Just one night of it gave him hope that it was possible. But now…

“But whenever I see our daughter… I don't want to lose that light in her eyes. I want her to still have hope and to live in this city without fearing its streets.”

“I know,” Vivian held him tight. “It's difficult for you to accept defeat, but Bruce one man can only do so much, and I think Batman has done enough. He has brought not just fear to his enemies but hope to those he helps. To those he protects. I don't care what they say about Superman or Wonder Woman, you are a man, and you are able to do all of this. Batman is and will always be the greatest hero there is, and the lessons you passed down to everyone will be your legacy.

“And though I know it's hard to accept the truth, the truth is… this war you've been fighting won't end with you. And I have accepted that — and I know Val has her father's good and caring heart, she will be the Batman's legacy too along with her brothers and sisters.”

Bruce held her tight. “Would it be alright if you hold on to that watch for a while?”

Vivian smiled and kissed him. “I'll hold on to it until you're ready to hang up the cowl… or maybe I can pawn it for a while… get something for myself while I wait.”

“Smartass,” Bruce laughed and pulled her to lay on top of him. Their digital clock sounded a short and soft alarm. It was midnight now. “Merry Christmas, Viv.”

“Merry Christmas, Bruce,” Vivian leaned down and kissed him. In their kiss, Bruce let out a throaty groan as he felt her pressing down on him. When he pulled away to ask, Vivian answered him by taking off her shirt and her bottoms, then said, “Part one of my gift.”

“I thought holiday sex isn't a gift,” he smirked.

“It's not, but it is the holidays, so gotta have a theme.”

“Please don't tell me you have a Mrs. Claus lingerie with you.”

“No, but,” she reached under her pillow and placed a hat on Bruce's head. It was a Santa hat. “But that will do.”

Laughing, Bruce sat up and kissed his wife deeply and pulled her closer to him as she pulled down his underwear and ground herself on his growing erection. 

“Happy holidays, Mr. Pryor,” Vivian gasped as she sank down on him.

Bruce let out a sigh of pleasure to be in her warmth. “Happy holidays, Mrs. Wayne.”

~*~

When Damian saw his little sister climbing down her crib, he shrugged it off and simply watched as she carefully gripped the handles and took one step at a time until she was down, with the family cats and dogs, and Greg the Gargoyle. 

“Very good, Val,” Damian commended her.

“Dami! Mewwy ‘smas!” Valerie hugged his leg.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Val,” he picked her up. “Let's go brush your teeth then we can wake Mom and Father.”

To tease him, Valerie blew her morning breath at her brother and Damian hummed in displeasure. “Hmm.”

A quick trip to the bathroom to brush her teeth and Damian standing outside the bathroom with the door shut as she did her business, until she called out to him saying: “Done!” And he would go in and help her clean up. 

“Come on, let's surprise Mom with the jumpers she got us,” Damian changed her out of the pajamas and into the Christmas jumpers they would get every year for the family. This year, their theme was Super-Holiday Jumpers. It was Stephanie's idea when she and Tim found the whole set in the mall and bought one for everyone to wear. He was wearing a Robin jumper that had the insignia at the very middle incorporated to the design, and Val wore a red and gold one that had the Wonder Woman symbol at the front. 

“And the finishing touch,” he placed the mini-Santa hat on her head. Val laughed and started pulling him along.

Standing before their parents’ bedroom door, Damian had Valerie stand by the wall with her eyes closed as he knocked loud and called out, “I'm coming in!” then waited a few seconds before opening the door to check. Good, they were dressed in their holiday jumpers, but oddly enough the Santa hat was on the ground at this time of day.

“New wake up call?” Vivian said to him.

“It was my way to make sure Valerie does not have to go through that nightmare of seeing what we all saw then while at a young age,” said Damian. “Coast is clear, Val.”

From the door, Valerie walked into their parents’ bedroom and ran to her father who scooped her off the ground. “Good morning, Val,” Bruce greeted her.

“Mownee!” Valerie said, and right on time her stomach growled.

“Okay, time for breakfast, and once everyone is here, the Wayne Family Treasure Hunt will begin,” Vivian had Damian under her wing and led him out the room and to the kitchen.

With Jason staying at the manor for the holidays, he's taking the task in preparing the meals with Alfred helping in some way. For breakfast, he surprised everyone with a holiday themed meal, and Val's favorite which he served in her favorite plate too.

Not long after – with the dishes washing themselves – one by one everyone was arriving at the manor wearing their favorite super-holiday jumpers, bringing food for dinner, and a competitive look on their faces knowing what's to come.

Gathered in the sitting room, Vivian, Bruce, and Alfred stood before everyone else as they waited for the two teams to finalize each other. Dick's team got Barbara, Stephanie, and Cassandra; and Jason's team got Tim, Damian, and Duke. Val will be participating as a guide for both teams to accomplish all of the tasks. Bruce made some tasks that need both teams to work together so Valerie could play with all of them.

“I'm telling you now, it's not going to be easy this year,” Vivian told them.

“Please, you said that last year and we finished it before you can finish a bottle of scotch,” Jason teased.

“Trust me, this is harder, and you'll need these too,” Bruce tossed them back their coats and helped Valerie in hers. “The clues are not just in the manor, it spans all around the estate.”

All cockiness flew out the window as they realized how big Wayne Estate was.

“You're joking, right?” Barbara asked.

“This will be a test of physical and mental skill, and baby skills too. The living room will be your base for every treasure you find,” Vivian handed Valerie to Jason as she started to make grabbing motions at him. “We made sure to put a line as well,” she gestured the magically conjured line between the teams and the sides of the room. “So no one would go on a territory war. You got until three in the afternoon to finish the task.”

“So, it's that difficult, huh?” Stephanie laughed. “Okay, that's interesting.”

“Everyone starts here inside and around the manor, so Val can play too. But when it's time for the excavations, she'll be having her nap.”

“Gotta prepare for Christmas dinner and movie night, huh?” Tim took a photo of Val and Cassandra playing some clapping game.

Vivian then placed the two Christmas cards with the first riddle on the table. One red and the other blue. “Alfred, do the honors,” she gestured to the man.

“With this, the Wayne Family Holiday Treasure Hunt begins,” Alfred started the clock, and Dick and Jason grabbed the cards and started reading it silently with their teams. 

“Got it!” Tim and Stephanie exclaimed and were leading their teams to the direction of the attic, leaving a trail of laughter, competition, and the sound of Valerie giggling.

~*~

The treasure hunt went on for hours with each team solving puzzles that involved them using what they learned from Batman, and some that they needed Valerie to accomplish. They got five pieces of the piece they were going to build and set them on each of their tables in the living room where the timer was. When the next clue was leading them out to the vast estate, they had to give Val to Vivian, who was now asking for nap time. 

All the fun and excitement got her tired.

“Time's running out,” Vivian noted the clock that was fifteen minutes from the end.”

“They almost got it,” Bruce showed her the camera feed that showed Damian and Cassandra going against each other to get to their piece first. It was Cassandra who got it first and she jumped down for Jason to catch and the whole team ran back to the vehicle they used and head back to the manor, but Dick's team wasn't far off and they were racing back to the manor.

Vivian took the walkie talkie, which they gave to each team lead, and said to all of them, “You better not crash.”

They saw them laughing and stepped on it.

“I tell them to be careful and they push on the gas,” she sighed.

When the teams arrived at the teams arrived, they raced to the living room and were now building the piece that Bruce hid around the estate. 

“Come on, Grayson!” Damian said as they built whatever it was they were building. 

“Jason, get your stubby fingers out of the way!” Stephanie exclaimed and took over.

“DONE!” They all called out.

“And thirty seconds to spare,” Duke proudly said. “What is this, anyway?” 

They were all wondering what that does. It looked like a Christmal tree decor – red and blue.

“Not quite,” Vivian smirked.

Tim and Stephanie groaned and grabbed each of their ornament and ran to the tree, looking for that one piece that was missing in the pattern. 

That's why the tree looked a person with OCD made it! It was a missing piece for the tree!

“Hand it over, Drake!” Damian grabbed the ornament and hung it at the very top where the missing piece is suppose to be, just as Stephanie shoved hers at the bottom that was out of reach.

“HA!” They all declared they have won.

“With ten seconds to spare,” Bruce mused. “Congratulations.”

“What's the prize?” Barbara asked.

“Well, team Blue won,” Vivian got out an envelope for them. “Gift cards for shopping – special gift cards that you can use for anything you want.”

Dick's team cheered and howled in success, all taking an expensive gift card for their spending.

“Damnit!” Jason muttered. He was glaring at Dick as the eldest Robin gloated. “Oh, shut the fu--”

“Mowning!” Valerie entered the living room in her holiday pajamas and still rubbing her eyes to get the sleep out of them.

“Aw, good afternoon, Val!” Vivian scooped up her daughter. “Dick’s team won. Why don't you give Jay and the others a hug too cheer them up.”

Valerie reached out to Jason and snuggled in his arms and then fell asleep again. 

“I guess she's still sleepy,” Jason laughed and cradled her.

“Christmas Dinner isn't until later, so let her sleep,” said Bruce. “Is it alright if she stays with you? She looks comfortable there.”

“Yeah, she's good here,” Jason sat down on the couch. “I guess the presents can wait later when she wakes up.”

“I think we can hand out the other presents since Babs and Duke still have to go to their families,” Vivian shrugged.

They all agreed and gathered around to get their gifts. Vivian and Bruce handed out the gifts under the tree, skipping Valerie's gifts for the girl to open later. When they opened their gifts, everyone was happy to get what they always wanted. The gifts that Bruce got were more sentimental with Jason finally fixing Thomas Wayne's old broken watch and handing it as a gift after all this time, Dick giving him a framed photo from one of the early days of being just the four of them in the manor, and from Vivian was a photo album that collected their memories throughout the years, from their days when they were still dating until their life as a married couple, and now with their family.

The sight of their real wedding had Bruce smiling. Gotham doesn't know about that one, but it was the most intimate and most memorable one for him.

Taking his wife by her chin, Bruce had her face him to place a kiss on her lips. No words, but Vivian knew what he meant and pressed her forehead on his.

“From our first case to our last,” Bruce murmured.

“From our first case to our last,” she said back.

“Val's awake!” Cassandra helped the girl up and handed her a glass of water. “Presents?”

The word had the sleep disappear from her eyes and Valerie jumped down and ran to the tree, dragging Cassandra with her.

“From me,” Cassandra held out the present to Valerie.

As Valerie started to unwrap the presents, Barbara and the others started taking photos and videos of the moment for them to look back to. In their line of work, it's these little moments that they live for. It's also what reminds them of what they are fighting for.

[impossible-rat-babies]

rotating skydeep cenote in my head…..

[thescriptorium]

thinking about caitlyn kiramman and how her lack of words are so fundamental to the end shape of her character. cait doesn’t say “i’m sorry” when Vi yells at her about being Ambessa’s puppet, she yells “i know” because she’s intelligent enough to see the spiral of events but not enough to know how to stop it. she doesn’t say “i’m sorry” but the very next scene she attempts to make peace with jinx. she doesn’t say “i’m sorry” but she calls off the guards so Vi can secretly try to save her sister—a terrible plan but one that Vi needs to do.

caitlyn isn’t surprised to find that jinx escaped. she expects Vi to be locked away by her sister so that she won’t chase her. because that’s the doomed tragedy of them.

everyone knows Jinx can’t be saved except for Vi.

Vi wants so badly to believe her love will somehow save her sister but it never will. her fatal flaw is that she will always try and she will always fail. and then caitlyn knows Vi will unjustly blame herself, so she’s there at the cells to ground her and remind her that this is how it’s always been. you’re getting predictable.

and then vi finally understands that caitlyn pulled all the strings for this. that she gave her another chance to open a cell and go after her sister, even knowing it would never work. it’s an apology and it’s cait saying “i know who you are.”

caitlyn kiramman doesn’t use words, she takes meaningful action because she’s only half the charismatic councilor her mother wanted her to be. she’s grown up an outsider and keeps a careful mask for everyone except violet, which is why season one opened her up so magically. she’s naturally stoic and reserved but she’s bold.

and then vi has to kiss her right then in the cells. because meaningful action means so much more than words to someone like her, who just wants to be of service to the people she loves. what caitlyn did was a reciprocation of her love language. and then Vi acts more by instantly showing her love, giving caitlyn all her love, because she’s the only person in this story willing to accept it. without hurt or heartbreak, vi can pour this massive heart she has into the only hands capable of understanding it. of being tender with it.

because caitlyn knows that vi is devoted to such a massive fault, but it doesn’t deserve to be punished. not any longer.

caitlyn kiramman doesn’t use words, but she keeps the burden of jinx locked away in her heart. all so that vi can finally know what a safe home and peace feels like ♥️ AUGH

[moonhoures]

[ 9:03PM — j. wonwoo ]

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, fem!reader, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, finger sucking

Wonwoo had you caged beneath him at the edge of your bed, pounding into you for what felt like ages. The insides of your thighs were aching and slick with your juices. He had made you cum twice already, and he promised this would be the last one, then he’d finally let you rest. But the glimmer in his eyes might as well have been crossed fingers, because you didn’t believe him for a second. With the energy he had now, he could probably go for another round—or two.

His breath was hot and ragged. His fingers clutched onto your thighs like anchors. His hips snapped relentlessly against yours, making the bed creek quietly with his movements. His hair was still a little fluffy from the shower he had taken hours prior, but sweat was starting to form in his roots, making it damp.

“________, you okay?” he asked you through huffed breaths.

Your eyes were shut tight while you tried to focus on your orgasm, but you opened them to look at him when he spoke to you, “Uh huh.”

���Good,” his fox-like eyes looked at you with an amount of love that was too pure for the sinful moment you were having.

After your reassurance, his pace picked up slightly, making your hands grasp onto his waist a little tighter. He thrusted deeper into you every few strokes, like he was coaxing your release to him. He grunted each time he bottomed out inside of you, feeling your warmth completely envelope him just how he loved it. He also loved the way your head fell back into the sheets involuntarily. The way your mouth slacked open from how well he was fucking you. The way your legs pulled up around him as if you couldn’t get enough, even when he was giving you everything he had. Cute, he thought to himself.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in an intense, wet kiss. His deep moans vibrated against your mouth, making you hum back in response. You whined when he pulled away.

“How does it feel, baby?”

Your eyes closed once more. You could feel yourself on the precipice of releasing again. You could practically taste it, “So good, Wonwoo, you always make me feel so good. I’m so close. So close. So clo- Augh-“

It was then your eyes shot open again, and Wonwoo was looking at you with sadistic amusement. He had reached up and hooked his thumb into the corner of your mouth, effectively shutting you up. When he succeeded in doing so, he stuck his other thumb into the opposite side of your mouth, spreading your lips open.

He leaned in close again, speaking in that low tone that made your pussy clench, “You talk too much, y’know that?”

When you simply nodded, he sneered at you. How pathetic you looked when you were being fucked like this. But you were so good for him, he didn’t care. He found it adorable even.

He slipped his digits from your mouth as he bent down to kiss you again, this time more hungry and fervent than before. He thrusted faster than before, wanting to bring you over the edge. He pushed your thighs further up with his hips, allowing himself a new angle to achieve. You moaned against his lips and tongue. When he disconnected them from yours, his hands slipped further down to the base of your neck and shoulders, holding you still as he thrusted into you ruthlessly. His breath was shaking a little from how close he was getting to his own orgasm. Any moment now . . .

You were cumming, clenching around him sporadically. His name tumbling from your lips repeatedly because he was the only thing your pretty, dumb brain could think of in that moment. And he ate it up, a smirk on his lips just before he came inside of you, filling you up for the third time. The skin between your thighs and your sheets were soaked, without a doubt. Your legs were sore and begging for the relief that a good bath would give them right about now. Your arms fell down against the bed. Your chest heaved with each deep breath you took.

Your boyfriend’s hand skimmed over your skin, from your shoulders, down your torso, to your waist where his fingers rubbed you in the most soothing way, “You took that so well. Are you ready to stop?”

Before you even mustered the energy to nod, he was adding:

“Or should I reward you for being so good to me? Hm? You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You shook your head. Your voice was as weak as your body, fading off when you responded, “Too tired, Won . . .”

He sighed, knowing you had reached your limit for tonight. He nodded in understanding and patted your thighs in encouragement, “Alright, let’s get you taken care of.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this timestamp, please feel free to leave a like, reblog, and/or a message in my inbox! i would love to hear your feedback! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

💌 taglist: @bruh-changbin @bluesoobinnie (& i’m tagging @hoshiseon bc i think you’ll enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it 🤭)

[ join my taglists here ]

[korikokorin]

NSFW

Damian Wayne Headcannon

Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: sexual content

Picture by: https://pin.it/3OIYHwc5s

Note: this might not be a totally accurate depiction of Damian but my brain told me to do it lmao, enjoy!

He tends to babble during sex.

"Ah Auh ugh.. Ahh! Oh... Fuck mmh oh.. please... yes..."

Though he'd personally never put his own children through what he was put through, he is proud of what all those grueling years of training have taught him.

No, not the violence.

The discipline.

He takes pride in his demeanor. He was raised to carry himself with a certain elegance— class; refinement.

His cadence is firm; authoritative. His back straight, head held high, just as what is expected of him.

The heir to the Wayne family.

But in the dark and quiet? Where all he can feel is your skin against his and the soft bedding that rumples just the right way when his body moves against yours?

Well,

"Ah auh ahhh! ...Auhh huuuuhh... Mmmphff.. yes... more... please... fffuck.."

He'd hold onto you for dear life; begging, pleading, clawing at your skin for more.

He could do this for hours. Just an endless chorus of incoherent babbling. His throat would be sore and dry after. Even then he'd hold you close, stuff his face into the crook of your neck and mumble and moan and hum.

He'd keep running his fingers up and down your body, let his legs tangle with yours, pull you impossibly close so that every inch of his skin was moving against you in some way.

He'd be absolutely spent but still crave your touch endlessly.

The babbling gets worse when you call him beautiful.

Because it's true; he is beautiful. Especially like this.

Sometimes you just can't help but voice it.

"you're so beautiful."

His breath would hitch, his voice weakening.

His grip would tighten— almost bruising.

His shoulders would tremble and his brows would furrow.

His voice would come out in a pathetic whimper, and he'd melt into you.

"So, so beautiful, beloved."

Then all at once, as if his senses were returning to him, his movements would get frantic. It would feel desperate; he'd force you and him together harder, faster.

he'd all but scream for you, unable to go that far because of the painful scraping of his throat.

"Ah... Auh! Yes! Augh fuck!"

Finally, he'd cry out for the last time that night.

He'd come down from his high and say over and over again,

" I love you... I love you so much..."

Whisper it into your hair, mumble it into your fingers and your neck, kiss it into your chest — your heart.

" I love you so... much..."

Eventually, he'd fall asleep. the same words still on his lips, whispering it one more time into your cheek as he peppered your face with kisses. Holding you close in this irreplaceable warmth, breathing in your scent that makes him feel at home.

safe.

[dandylovesturtles]

havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

[chokchokk]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄) | choi san x fem!reader

a requested drummer boyfriend!san one-shot

“How do I feel like, Sannie?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar. 

You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…

“You feel like you're mine."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @ateezstanforever : @sanwhalvr : @itsvxlentine : @jeonride : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy (thank you!!!)

masterlist link | join my taglist

[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]

OH, OH, OH, AUGH!

There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime? 

You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.

And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.

Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.

So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.

Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.

San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out. 

Oh, mamma…

You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.

… mia.

San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other. 

It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.

You could have been lying in bed with him, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.

San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?

No, you dummy.

San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.

Silence.

It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…

“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.

“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.

“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.

You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.

“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”

“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.

“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”

His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curled into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.

You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)

If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.

“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”

You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”

“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”

Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.

Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.

After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.” 

You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.

“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.

“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.

“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.

Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”

“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.

Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.

His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.

Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.

After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.

Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.

“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.” 

San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.

Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build. 

He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.

San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?

“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.

“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think. 

“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”

Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.

“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”

You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.

“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.

You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”

“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”

“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”

“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:

“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”

Ayayay…

“How is this, Y/N?”

“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.

“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”

You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.

“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?” 

You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.

“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”

“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”

“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.

“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.

“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.” 

His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.

“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.

“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”

“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”

San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.

“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.

“N- no, I-I mean–”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses. 

“Yes, good… v-very.” 

“More?”

“Yes, yes, more.”

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”

“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”

A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”

It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”

“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”

“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”

San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.

“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”

“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”

“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”

“Fuuck…”

Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”

San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.

“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.” 

His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath. 

“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”

“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose. 

“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”

“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.” 

Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.

“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”

“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”

“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”

Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”

“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”

You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.

“... So worth though, fuck.”

A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock. 

“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”

“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.

“Hmmm? Feels good, huh?”

“Sannie, s-so good, god– you’re so– fuck fuck fuck–”

“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”

“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”

“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.

“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”

“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”

“Thaaaat’s it…”

You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.

“Good girl…”

“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.

“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.

“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips. 

“I wanna see you, Sannie...”

“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles. 

You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.

“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.

“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns. 

There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth. 

“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically,  as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.

“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”

“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs. 

“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”

“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”

“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.

“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”

“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.

“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.

“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”

San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor. 

You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.

“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”

You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him. 

San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it. 

Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously. 

“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”

You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.

“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”

He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”

San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.

“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side. 

“Y- yes, please.”

“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”

You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release. 

Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.

“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.

“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.

“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”

San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.

His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately. 

“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”

“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”

“Hm?”

“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”

You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank  you.”

His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”

San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.

“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”

“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.

“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...” 

Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been. 

“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”

When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…

“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”

“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”

“Yeah. I want you so much.”

You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.

A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.

“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”

Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask 'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"

related hard thought "for you(r) love" : read it here

[nekomanager]

.—♡ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 {KOZUME KENMA}

your surprise for KENMA's birthday surprised the both of you even more

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ f!reader, overstimulation, blowjob, slight exhibitionism, nekomimi, creampie

It's already late at night. This must be the perfect time for you to give Kenma your official gift. Quietly, you walked out of your walk-in closet, planning to surprise him.

Your boyfriend, who turned 28 today, was busy playing the game you bought for him. His birthday stream just finished and he's now playing while in a call with his teammates from high school, though they might be done with it already.

“Kenma?”

Hearing you, he gave a quick glance then returned his attention back to his game, until it dawned to him…what you were wearing.

He instantly looked at you, gasping and staring at the puffy cat ears on top of your head, the collar around your neck and the thin fabric of your pink string bikini; your top bearing a cat-shaped hole in the middle showing your cleavage and he guessed that your panties had the necessary tail. Just for him. He thirstily swiped his tongue across his lips.

You shyly crawled towards him and he gulped, just lost at the sight of his little kitten all willing to service him, taking the floor like the good girl that you are. His eyes travelled down to your collar, and a grunt escaped him when he saw what’s engraved in the metal plate, Kenma’s.

All of this. All of you. Is his.

Kenma dropped his console and removed his headphones.

You placed your hands on both his knees, parting them further so you could place yourself in between. His breathing got heavy and you cupped his cock, now turning stiff on your touch. “Y/N,” he closed his eyes and blew out a pained exhale.

Your fingers fiddled on the zipper and button of his pants, opening it with eyes full of wonder. He sprang right onto your face and you just stared at his growing erection. You licked your lips at how pretty his dick looked for you. Too pretty. You slowly glided your tongue along his length, taking your time in feeling his warmth and softness. Getting to the the tip, you circled your lips around, taking him in but not reaching half his shaft before you removed your mouth.

“K-Kitten, please…” he whined, face all reddened, “be my good girl.” Seeing how needy he was of you, you finally devoured him completely.

The tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you bobbed up and down him, your hand wrapped around as well, pumping him with the right grip. You felt the ache in between your legs as he kept huffing and moaning repetitively. Your ass wiggling as you sucked him, making him rock in your mouth harder.

“Mhmn…” you mewled.

He cupped the back of your head, fingers all tangled up around the strands of your hair as he pushed and pulled in and out of your mouth. Tears now brimming at the corners of your eyes, while your saliva almost spilled out of your lips as you were filled by him. His girth fitted your mouth perfectly, numbing at the sensation.

Kenma groaned, feeling that he’s coming close. He pulled your face away and his cum sprayed all over your face and your innocent pink kitten lingerie.

Both of you just stared at each other still catching your breaths. Breathing heavily, he took you in. Your lips now bearing the same color as your cheeks while you panted, breathless.

His eyes just pinned you when he spread his legs and tapped his thigh. You gulped and heeded like a good kitten, taking over his lap. He aligned the tip of his shaft along your dripping entrance and you sank all through his entire length. Your head swung back at how deep he hit you.

Your body was shivering at how good he felt, and he wasted no time bouncing you on his lap. You gripped your wrist around his neck so you won't fall with how wildly he was thrusting in you. Your hearing was filled with his soft huffs and moaning which made your walls clench around his cock tighter.

"Augh- Y/N!" He said as he moved at the edged of the seat. His hand hands gripped your ass firmly, moving your body to meet his deep and forceful strokes.

"Aaaah...aahh...I'm close! K-Kenma! Kenma!" You whined, finally orgasming.

However, Kenma wasn't done yet and he's not gonna let go of your cute kitty pussy until he shot his birthday cum inside of you. He placed your body on the floor and began slamming down his cock so rapidly that your knuckles are turning white and so was your vision.

You just came...You just came! Another one...another one! Your toes curled, cumming around him again. Your mouth hung open and drool slipped down to your chin.

He hugged you tight, placing a hand below your head as he gave two strong pumps before filling your pussy.

“Holy shit! Did you and Y/N just did what we thought you were doing?”

Your heads both sharply turned to the headphones beside him. Kuroo?

“H-How long have you been there?” Kenma took his headphones and asked, panicking.

“Damn! Just enough." Tora commented.

Lev added, "We're supposed to greet you, but we're the ones surprised!"

"Why didn't y'all put down the call?!"

And Yaku..."We thought it’s just a game thing until now."

"No, you put the call down next time,” Kuroo reprimanded Kenma then chuckled. "Wow. What a happy birthday. We'll leave you two alone. That's enough show for us today," continued by his best friend who ended the call.

Kenma froze, his face even redder. It's his entire team. However, he couldn’t do anything about it anymore, and his head was still light with pleasure

Running a hand through his hair, he returned his focus back to you. You were almost passed out, breathing through your parted lips. You looked so adorable that he wanted to squish you more in his arms. He sighed and smiled. At least, he got you as his special present for the rest of the night.

Happy Birthday to me.

⏝︶︶⏝︶ ୨୧ ︶⏝︶︶⏝

© nekorei 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[ohdeerfully]

Hello

I live

Well, barely

OMG ISTG I JUST REREAD LIKE ALL OF YOUR FICS I'M GOING SGSJDGDJHFJDY

Your writing. I swear. It's so good. Like when I read any other alastor x reader fic I have this nasty voice in the back of my head going 'He wouldn't do this'. THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN HERE

You are a genius. (Thabk you for speepy Alastor coming from an insomniac is good praise, no?)

My personal favourites are

a. Either of the sleepy Alastoe fics (obviously)

b. Dry bed. Istg the writing in that.. Augh

Could you do a part two to Dry bed? Maybe they just wake up (Together!!!) and awkwardly get their way down to breakfast. Then they simply avoid each other all day, not talking, but still stealing glances at each other when the other isn't looking. Then reader finds Alastor chilling on the hotel roof the following night and they TALK about it. And figure things out.

Omg thabk you for listening to my rant I hope you are doing well byeeee

~❤✨

P. S. You and your fics are my new hyperfixation

hello!!!!! in general sorry yall for my absence, finals are literally next week so it Will happen again

im so glad u like my depiction of alastor hes literally so annoying to write... a dry bed is honestly probably one of if not THE fave fic ive written (though might be a tie with mourning dove) so i hope part ii does it a bit of justice (,: i kind of deviated from ur request at the beginning (they dont wake up together >_<) but otherwise i hope u enjoy! hopefully its not too obvious i kind of rushed it

mwah! <3

A Warm Bed

(sequel to A Dry Bed)

Alastor x Reader (hurt/comfort, fluff) TW: none really, alastor is probs ooc but who cares

join my discord!

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It felt a little bit too cold when you woke up, but you couldn’t immediately find a reason why. Your eyes squinted open, facing the curtains that were drawn just enough to where a peek of the morning light rudely shone against your face. You turned over with a dissatisfied groan.

Peering at the empty bed beside you, you stared blankly as wheels began to turn in your mind. It only took a few seconds to remember the previous night, and your face quickly warned as you hissed in a breath through clenched teeth, wrists coming up and rubbing your eyes with a sense of dismay.

Man, what were you thinking. You felt a strong mixture of regret and embarrassment but also… you felt lonely. The strong, strange affection from Alastor the previous night directly compared to him disappearing and leaving you alone in the morning made you feel all the more cold. The room also had an uncomfortable silence to it, but at the same time too loud with the hum of your ceiling fan.

Whatever, you feigned indifference to yourself and lifted yourself from your mattress, legs dangling over the side of your bed for a few moments, allowing yourself to get a quick stretch in before sliding on some comfortable slippers while you went to your restroom, protecting your feet against the cold tile.

You quickly freshened up, pulling on some comfortable loungewear before leaving your hotel room and walking down the long corridor that led to the steps. Maybe it was just your current mood, but the ambience was too quiet and uncomfortable.

Your spirits slowly lifted as you made your way down the steps, and you could hear the faint clashing of kitchen tools being dropped and thrown, alongside unintelligible and arguing voices, one doubtlessly being Vaggie trying to tame—or, no, threaten—the chaos.

The air, at the very least, smelled good despite the racquet. Though you were in Hell, the food was still appetizing—even if you weren’t exactly sure what it was half the time.

You must’ve made it just in time, as right when you turned the corner you nearly hit your head against Charlie’s shoulder as she rounded the same corner. You tripped over each other for a moment before she ultimately steadied you with a hand and a breezy laugh.

"Good morning! I was just about to tell everyone breakfast was ready…” You smiled at her gesture. Every morning she tried to host some sort of typical continental style breakfast that was standard for most hotels—that is if Niffty’s behavior permitted a successful morning—and the quality was usually higher than what you remembered in your time alive. Of course, you were dealing with the Princess of Hell, who obviously wouldn’t want anything mediocre for her treasured guests.

“Thank you,” was all you could offer in return before she passed you, doubtlessly to gently announce the food to the other guests. There had been an increase in residents lately, so you weren’t shocked at the piles of delicious looking food that met your eyes when you stepped into the kitchen. You could practically imagine sparkles dancing around the fluffy pancakes and still sizzling pans of various breakfast meats.

You helped yourself to a meal, carefully stepping around the growing crowd of other guests, who all, for the most part, seemed a little aggravated at being woken up but nonetheless pleased at the free meal.

A brief hush filled the room as the air seemed to get just a bit heavier, more ominous, alongside the new presence of a prickling against your skin. You didn’t have to look up, nor did you even want to look up, to know who the culprit of such a suffocated atmosphere was; you knew him well enough.

The kitchen slowly came back to life, albeit a bit stiffer and with quieter conversation. You kept your eyes glued to your plate of food as you made your way towards the dining area. As you passed through the entrance, out of your peripheral you saw the large, looming figure of the demon you had become unnaturally attached to. You didn’t look up or even acknowledge him, pretending to just not notice, but you could swear you felt his red gaze burning a hole in your skin.

A few minutes passed after you sat down before Alastor joined you, sitting in his unofficial assigned seat. The only difference was he didn’t scoot his chair nearly as close as usual, as well as the way his body was turned just slightly so that his back was facing you. Not enough to be noticed by other people, but just enough for you—though, maybe you were just overanalyzing things?—to notice how he was pointedly uninviting you from any interactions with him.

Why even bother coming to breakfast, you thought coldly to yourself, deciding to just feel mad about it instead of stewing in your own self-hate and regret. You had already spent all morning feeling stupid for the night before. It’s not like you even eat this shit. Go eat a dead deer or something.

Your fork poked aggressively against the food on your plate, head propped up against a fist as you mindlessly scooted the food around in a pool of syrup. You hoped to convey some sense of hatred to the demon next to you as you jammed a fluffy bite of pancake into your mouth—oh, that’s so good, your spirits were lifted just a bit as the slightly sweet and buttery pancake touched your tongue.

A hand touched your back, and you jolted in surprise. Naturally your eyes first went to Alastor next to you, thinking maybe he was finally over himself, but he had his hands folded on the table in front of him as he watched another table argue over something probably meaningless. Maybe you’re crazy, but did you see his eyes flick to your just as you looked away? You shook off the idea.

Vaggie sat to your right, and was currently eyeing you with a hint of concern in her eye. You shrugged off her hand as politely as possible before smiling at her with a raised eyebrow, trying to play it off with an ‘I’m alright.’

“People that are ‘alright’ don’t usually have some personal vendetta against a plate of breakfast food,” She said in a low voice, trying to keep your conversation private, particularly from a certain set of prying, fluffy red ears. “You know you have friends here. Especially Charlie.”

“Really, I’m all good, just… long morning,” You did your best to wave away her worries again, suddenly feeling a little childish. From the way she spoke, you would think she was talking to someone going through something serious—you were just having some guy problems.

It seemed to work well enough, because after looking at you for a few more beats she raised her hand and turned away, picking up a conversation with her girlfriend. You sat in your spot for a few more minutes, but the growing anxiety from silently and awkwardly sitting next to Alastor, sifting through so many racing thoughts and doubts, gnawed at your stomach. You finally stood up and excused yourself with a thank you and left the room.

You had no specific place to be, so you just wandered into the lobby and slumped against a couch. You briefly wondered where Angel was; he was surprisingly good at listening to romantic troubles, though honestly you probably wouldn’t divulge your whole “thing” with Alastor. That would probably meet no welcomed response.

You must have dozed off, because the sudden sound of raised voices startled your eyes open. Arguments and general anger were commonplace here, so you weren’t particularly shocked to find Vaggie and Angel Dust going at it about something regarding his behavior and the Hotel—a recurring theme in their conversations. Vaggie’s words fell on deaf ears as Angel tutted at her words with a waving and dismissive hand.

“I’m sure ninety percent of these guests would love to have a piece’a me!” He said, taking long strides across the room as he fixed up his chest fluff with two hands. He leaned his hip against the large chair that, much to your dismay, sat Alastor, his grin tightening as Angel approached. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as the spider laid his torso across the head of the chair.

“Even this one…” Angel said with a pouty lilt in his voice, finger dragging up the embellishments as he tried to play flirty. Alastor clicked his tongue distastefully in response before he stood up, hands folding neatly across the top of his cane.

“Not quite to my taste, thank you!” He said, looking down at Angel with an ugly curl in his lip. Angel only huffed in response before slinking down the back of the chair and taking up the space where Alastor previously sat, leaving said demon just standing there.

Alastor’s eyes glanced at you, so brief that you honestly may have imagined it, before he simply hummed with closed eyes and melted into the ground, the shadow where he once stood inking across the carpet before finally coming to a rest… behind the couch where you were laying. You grimaced as you felt his presence manifest again, sending a ripple of that familiar prickle down your bare arms.

Was this going to be your eternity now? Playing some game of cat and mouse where you have to leave every room you’re in just because Alastor gets too close for comfort? You turned your head to try to get a look at him from the corner of your eye, but immediately looked away again when you saw he was already looking at you. You couldn’t read his expression.

You sat up and thought for a few moments. Honestly, it was probably best to just go spend a depression day alone in your room. As pushy as Alastor could be, he wasn’t typically the type to barge into rooms without invitation.

Slowly standing, you managed to avoid the attention of the couple of others in the room—though, realistically, none would care if they happened to see you leave; you were just on edge to everyone and everything. You quickly made your way up the stairs, frowning down at your feet as you walked. You shot a sideways glance at Alastor as you rounded a turn in the steps, finally meeting his gaze for a few seconds before your view was blocked by the wall.

You sighed as you found yourself in front of your hotel room, a heavy feeling making you suddenly choke up. You ushered yourself into the room before you embarrassed yourself by crying openly in the hallway, but the comforting solitude of your room as you leaned your back against the door to close it made it a bit easier to breathe.

After ensuring the door was locked, you went to stand at the edge of the bed, frowning down at the still unmade sheets. Thoughts of that tender night came to the front of your mind at full force, and you bit your lip anxiously. The warmth of his body against yours, the tangle of legs and soft touches of lips… was it all actually, in a cruel turn of reality, a fake expression of care from him? When you had finally begun to think you could read the affection on his face…

You settled into the soft mattress, uncomfortably aware of how big and cold it was. You were no stranger to sleeping alone by any means, but after finally experiencing the shared space with someone you loved, the contrast was stark and unwelcomed. You did your best to ignore it as you tucked yourself in, letting your eyes fall shut in a poor attempt to sleep away your worries.

Your attempts were unsuccessful, and an empty feeling of longing and despair in your stomach grew stronger with each hour that passed as you watched the red hue of the daylight sky turn darker. You felt both restless and tired at the same time, lacking any energy to actually do anything to pass the time. 

It all proved to be counterintuitive to the whole “sleep your worries away” as the hours you spent just lying down only gave you ample opportunity to melt in your own thoughts as the memories of last night kept returning. Man, why did you have to kiss him? You unwittingly ignored the fact that he had also played a part in closing that gap between you; you were honestly just pinning the blame fully on yourself.

Finally sick of stewing in misery, you kicked off the heavy blanket and stood up. You needed some fresh air. 

You tried to walk quickly with a fake sense of purpose so, in the odd chance you passed someone, they hopefully wouldn’t ask about your absence all day—you were typically more present and friendly with everybody as you would often help Charlie with event organization. Lucky enough for you, you passed nobody on your way to the door that opened to some stairs up to the roof of the Hotel.

After a quick pace up the echoey, metal steps, you pushed open the large doors and greeted with a pleasantly cool rush of wind. It was still warm, of course, being Hell and all, but cooler than usual. You quietly closed the heavy doors behind you.

There was a spot on the roof you typically sat at during long, restless nights, and you turned the corner of the door before promptly backtracking and pressing yourself up against the metal door once again, jaw clenched in a mix of shock and anger.

Why the Hell was Alastor on the roof at your spot with your blanket that you had left up here on some previous night? Was he doing all this on purpose? Constantly getting all too close to you while simultaneously acting cool and indifferent towards your existence? Was this all just some sick game to him? Well… it is Alastor.

You peeked over the edge from where you hid to get a better look at him. He sat serenely with his back towards you, legs hanging over the edge of the roof. You couldn’t see his expression, but his body waved just slightly, most likely to the tune of some song in his head. Despite all the frustration you felt in your soul towards him, looking at him under the blanket of a dark red sky with a sprinkling of stars… he still endeared you. Especially when he looked so harmless and relaxed.

Just as you were about to turn away again and find somewhere else to relax, he cleared his throat, stopping you before you could even move.

“It’s rude to stare,” He stated, projecting his voice just enough for you to hear the light humor in his voice. “You seem like a stalker, darling!”

You straightened your shoulders before walking out from behind the wall, a frown on your face. You didn’t walk any closer—God forbid you accidentally do anything to hurt your relationship anymore, if that was even possible.

“I didn’t mean to, I was just… surprised, that’s all,” You reasoned, tapping your foot impatiently. “You are kind of in my spot.”

He hummed, absently pointing at the surface around him. “I didn’t see your name on it.” 

You couldn’t really think of a response quickly, so you just stayed quiet, continuing to just stand in place a few meters away from Alastor.

He briefly put his hand down on the space next to him, patting twice in a vague invitation for you to join him. You thought for a brief moment before cautiously walking towards him, steps growing slower with each foot you got closer. He made no move to send you away—in fact, he even started moving the blanket in a way to make the concrete just a bit more comfortable to sit on. He still didn’t look at you.

Embarrassingly your hands had started to shake, which you realized when you reached your hand down to support your body as you lowered it to sit. You just hoped Alastor didn’t notice. You let your legs fall over the ledge, swinging slightly next to Alastor’s. You didn’t notice how he shifted his knee a bit closer to yours.

The two of you sat in silence under the still-darkening sky, and you couldn’t decide if it was a comfortable or awkward silence. Alastor didn’t seem to mind, so you tried to convince yourself it was comfortable despite the itching anxiety in your chest.

“I’m really sorry about last night,” You blurted out, unable to contain it anymore. Was it a bad idea to even bring it up? Maybe. But you felt that your relationship was already irreparably damaged so it couldn’t hurt to at least apologize. You saw his eyes turn towards you out of your peripheral, and you were too ashamed to meet his look, instead opting to fiddle with a fray of the blanket edge.

“Whatever for?” He responded after an uncomfortably long pause—this stunned you. Fuck you mean ‘whatever for?’ Your head whipped up to look at him, brows furrowed.

You had spent all die scared that you ruined everything between you and Alastor, regretting everything that led up to last night’s events—it didn’t help that Alastor himself was also blatantly avoiding you. What the fuck is he acting so confused for?

Apparently you said that all out loud, as Alastor’s smile was growing more and more strained with each loud word that tumbled from your lips. You didn’t even realize until you were done and catching your breath, but at this point you couldn’t care less to apologize or feel bad about it. You folded your arms and fixated your eyes on some random pedestrian below as another long stretch of silence filled the air.

“You confuse me,” He finally said, with a voice that lacked its usual radio tone. You didn’t respond, so he continued. “I feel these alien emotions when I’m near you—you bewitch me. And I don’t like it. I hate you for it.”

You couldn’t control the slight slump in your shoulders and the sharp pang in your stomach that his words brought you. Hate. 

“But… I kill the demons I hate,” He said, looking away from you and up at the sky. “And I can’t find myself wanting to kill you. That has to mean something, though I’m really no man to figure it out myself.”

You cautiously returned your eyes back to him, shoulders curled forward as if to protect yourself against the blow of any harsh words. But, as he spoke, you felt that anxiety slowly lighten as you pieced together what he was trying to convey in his own strange way. Although, you weren’t really sure what to say in response, filled with too many swarming emotions—both new and old. 

Suddenly you looked at the space between the two of you—was Alastor’s hand there just a minute ago? You looked up to try to get any hint of his goals; but, unsurprisingly, he remained unreadable. It was definitely safer to just ignore it.

Well, that got a lot harder when his pinkie finger stretched towards you just a bit, practically inviting you. You looked at his face one more time, swallowed your fear, and tenderly laid your hand down next to his. You moved it cautiously closer, just enough so that your pinkie touched his own. His lifted up and curled over yours, tightening in a way to bring the rest of your hand closer and enveloping it with his own. Your gaze was fixated on this exchange and you felt heat warm your cheeks and ears.

You both said nothing, but you thought the pounding in your ears would drown out any attempt.

Your attention finally broke from the hands that now clasped together between the two of you, turning up towards Alastor. You found that he had been looking at you with such an intensity it made you feel like an open book before him. His eyes had a slight glow to them now that the sky had fully darkened—eyes that were usually so malicious and secretive seemed to now burn with what you could only assume was affection.

“I can’t promise I’ll be a good man,” He finally broke the silence. His smile was small but strained, and his voice uncharacteristically quiet. 

In response you shook your head with a breathless laugh, tightening your hand just slightly around his as you focused on the street below, watching the scattered presence of night owl demons.

“I probably couldn’t promise the same, either,” You admitted, leaning back and stretching out your legs in the open air over the ledge of the roof. You froze momentarily when Alastor shifted a bit closer, his knee now barely knocking against yours.

He reached his hand out, fingers curling gingerly but firm over your chin and pulling your face closer to his. He examined your face for a moment, red eyes trailing over every curve of your features before settling back to look into your eyes.

“But I can promise, cher,” The new name he referred to you as made the already present flush in your cheeks only intensify. “That as long as you own what’s left of my heart, no demon in Hell can keep you away from me. Not even you.”

His words were spoken almost like a threat in an ominously low tone, that heavy radio affliction dripping from his words. In his eyes was a sudden look of sinister intensity and devotion, something you had never even dreamed of seeing, especially from him and especially towards you. As menacing as the words seemed, you couldn’t stop the wry smirk that inched up your lips, slightly smushed between his fingers that still firmly held your head in place.

“I’d like to see anyone try,” You responded in an attempt to match his energy. This seemed good enough for him, as his smile lifted for a moment as he released you from his grasp and faced forward again.

You yawned and stretched out your arms above your head, popping a few bones in your back before you stood. He followed suit, deftly touching his clothes with one hand to smooth any wrinkles or crooked buttons—his other was still holding your own.

He stepped closer, nearly pressed against you, when suddenly the atmosphere around you seemed to melt in a swirl of black before being replaced with the familiar decor of your hotel room. He gave you a light nudge and you fell back onto the bed.

After recuperating and settling, you watched him from your spot on the bed as he draped off his coat and slacks before joining you in the sheets. His body language was tense and unsure, but to your own pleasure the stiffness in his shoulders lightened just a bit when your hands tenderly rubbed against his skin.

The bed that was only hours before too big and too cold was now inviting with the warmth of Alastor’s body against your own, his scent filling your nose with every inhale as his hair brushed against your cheek. Every movement was a shaky blur as you were still filled with a sense of disbelief and maybe a little bit of adrenaline from the unexpected switch-up from him. The mattress dipped and creaked as he tried to make himself comfortable, which took an awkward few seconds, but after finally settling in you found yourself laid against his chest, fingers trailing down his skin.

Alastor’s own clawed fingers trailed through your hair and he hummed the quietest tune, lulling you further into an exhaustion that you didn’t realize had been creeping up on you. You fell asleep to a comfort that you hoped you wouldn’t have to spend another day in eternity without.

[queer-overwatch]

Hi!! Could I request maybe a Venture x Reader (Any pronouns will do) on like a museum date? I want Venture to yap.Please and Thank you. ( Also bless the both of you I needed more Venture content I was tweaking without them)

Venture at a Museum!

Aaa ty sm for the request!!! I love that idea so much- they are such a yapper I love them <3 also your welcome hehe, had to take thing into our own hands >:3 (also bc u didn't request a specific format (like hcs or oneshot) i just did a short lil oneshot, hope thats okay!) -Frisk

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"Look, look- they have a whole section on rocks! Kinda basic selection but it's still rocks!"

You never thought you'd be able to learn so much about rocks in one day, but it seemed like Venture had made it their personal mission to force as much information into your brain as possible. You didn't mind, really! It was always nice listening to them rant about all the cool stuff they found while walking around the museum you'd planned to bring them to, but it was a lot to take in at once.

"Augh, I love sedimentary rocks- they're my favorite! 'cuz sometimes they have like, little fossils in them and I'm like, "Woah! A cool thing in another cool thing!" and it's awesome! One time I found a trilobite fossil in a rock, it was so cool! I wonder if they have any here- that'd be so amazing! I wonder what they taste like-"

After spilling every single fact they could think of about the rocks on display, Venture drags you to a section of the museum dedicated to Egyptian history, though they mostly just seemed interested in the architecture of the pyramids. You really did try to listen, but you mostly just caught the gist of their long, long, long explanations- something about a Mastaba being like a sort of prototype to pyramids? You were just happy to see them so excited, even if you didn't quite understand what they were so hyped about.

"Oh, if only that British lady could go back to ancient Egypt and get the architects of their time to answer my questions! I'd give anything to be able to do that!" Sensing the slight disappointment creeping up on them, you decide to try and bring Venture elsewhere, not wanting them to spend any energy on being upset by what they can't do.

"Why don't we go look at the dinosaur fossils? I'm sure there's some mistakes in the descriptions that you can correct!" You take their hand, gently pulling them away from the long essay-like description of images of the pyramids that they were reading. Incising them with promises of being able to show off their intensive knowledge of dinosaur fossils, or fossils in general.

Venture perked up almost immediately, following behind you as they ready themselves to go on and on about their favorite dinosaur ever, the Deinocheirus! You tried to ask why it was their favorite ones, and all they said was something about it being "them fr fr" and having rocks in its stomach. You weren't too keen on questioning that one.

They take a large step so they're walking next to you, swinging your arms as you walk, "It's always been one of my biggest goals to find a dinosaur fossil! I really hope I do one day, if I did I could die happy!"

"Please don't die- I would be so sad if you died." You squeeze their hand, voice light as you joke with them.

"Aw but I wanna! I wanna be a fossil for future people like me to discover! When I do die I wanna be buried with a bunch of cool stuff! Maybe mess around with my bones a little, just to throw 'em off!" As you finally reach the fossil exhibits, they abandon you to run off and check over every. single. fossil. which while endearing, gave you a lot of running to do in an attempt to catch up.

"Finally! For once a museum that gets everything right! Well, everything as far as we know-" They stand next to one of the larger fossils, not anything you recognized as you take your place next to them, catching your breath.

"Wow, how impressive-" you wheeze, standing up straight and stretching out your legs as you link arms with Venture, trying to stop them from running off on you again.

They laugh, grabbing you by the shoulder and dragging you in the tightest hug you've ever received.

"Thank you, so, so, so much for planning this. And for listening to me talk about rocks so much, and for caring about me- and a million other things! I can't even remember everything you've done for me, but I know its a lot!" They let you go, still holding you by the shoulders, the biggest smile you've ever seen on a person splayed across their face.

"Of course-! I love spending time with you, you're well aware of that, silly." You laugh, grabbing their wrists and taking their hands off your shoulders, holding their hands as you admire the glow of excitement on their face.

"Welllll since you clearly don't mind, can we go to this other museum I found online next week?! I heard they have an area where you get to watch an hour long video on the story of Julius Caesar!"

[meebles]

A snippet from my Codywan Bodyswap!AU that I’m working on:

Obi-Wan grunts, blinking as he comes to. His vision swims before it snaps to a sudden clarity. All at once, he realizes three things that are very, very wrong.

First, and most worryingly, he cannot feel the Force as he normally does. He’s not completely cut off, but only just.

Second, he’s certain he was in his quarters when he dozed off. Now he finds himself in a rarely-used storage room deep in the Negotiator’s sublevels, where the men keep their homebrew that Obi-Wan definitely doesn’t know about. He’s slumped against a wall, with the majority of Ghost Company peering down at him in various states of confusion.

Third, is that he’s certain his men just called him Cody.

“What… ?” he starts, staring down at his cuisse-clad thighs. Frowning, he moves to trace a finger across the stripe of gold paint running across the right, only to blink down at a hand that isn’t his own.

Ah, Sith hells.

“I think you should come to medical,” he hears Scabs say, and Obi-Wan agrees, but first they’ll have to go find—

“Oh, Force, Cody— ”

He ignores the odd looks the troopers give him, the reality of the situation suddenly gripping him like a vice. Cody, thrust into his body, but his mind untrained and unused to sensing the living Force that surrounds them—

“Scabs, I need you to get a sedative and meet me at— at the General’s room,” he states as he fully gathers himself upright, adjusting for his new center of gravity.

His CMO blinks at him. “What— the General? What are you— ?”

“I’ll meet you there and explain, just, please. A sedative,” he manages, already opening the doors. He looks back for a split-second to see Scabs nod in affirmative, before rushing out of the storage room.

Unfortunately, his own quarters are entirely on the other side of the venator. He runs past a few troopers, who startle at his haste, but he just calls back an all clear and doesn’t stop running, he needs to get to Cody—

After what feels like a tenday on a blessedly empty turbo-lift, Obi-Wan finally makes it to his quarters. He punches in the override and the door slides open, revealing the exact sight he feared— his own body, hunched over on the floor, clutching his head as he shakes—

“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, kneeling beside him, and Cody jolts, staring up at him with trembling eyes.

“Vod?” he asks in Obi-Wan’s voice, before his eyes widen impossibly further when they land on the scar at his temple, his own scar. “What is— augh!”

Obi-Wan curses under his breath, catching Cody as his eyes roll back, body slacking. He pulls him into his lap, resting his head as gently as he can against his armored thighs.

“Cody, my dear, it’s me, it’s Obi-Wan,” he says, holding Cody’s quavering form as still as he can. “Just focus on me, focus on my voice, just my voice, right here, with you.”

“Can’t— ” Cody spits out, head shaking. “It’s too much, I can’t— ”

“Shh, I know, I know. I’m so sorry, just try for me, please? Just try, it’s just me and you here together, no one else, just us… ”

Obi-Wan keeps muttering what’s probably nonsense, but he needs to give Cody some sort of anchor, something to focus on instead of the thousands of living souls he can suddenly sense aboard the ship, something present and definite in the entirety of the Force that he’s now privy to.

Cody groans, pressing himself further into Obi-Wan’s lap. “Please, make it stop, make it stop— ”

“Cody— what happened to the General?!”

Obi-Wan looks up and sees Scabs in the doorway, and bites back a sigh of relief. He’s about to explain when his medic is suddenly kneeling by his side, shaking his head.

“Fuck— that machine, it worked, didn’t it?” he says, opening his supply bag.

“Yes, it did.” Why the effects were so delayed, Obi-Wan has no idea, but right now it doesn’t matter. “And Cody— he’s not used to how my body senses the Force, it’s too much for him all at once.”

“I understand,” Scabs states, prepping the sedative. “Hold him steady, please. Bare his neck.”

Obi-Wan does as he’s told, chest clenching as he stares at Cody’s unseeing eyes. It’s a terrible solace when Scabs injects the needle and seconds later, they fall shut.

[bearieio]

omg i just found your blog and i absolutely love it! idk if your reqs are open but if they are can i please request a simon / ghost x reader where the reader asks ghost to do something for them and they expect him to protest but he just does it no questions asks and when hes done hes like "okay now you have to do something for me 🥰" ! it can be sfw or nsfw, up to you!

dw if you can't or dont want to do this req, and if you do want to, take your time ! <3

OMG HIIII TYYY :D i love ur acc smmm!!! and YES! my requests are almost always open! it just takes a little while for me to get around to writing them! also YES! YESYESYES!

simon "stubborn" riley

warnings: ghost x fem!reader, sloppy blowjob, praising, deepthroating (readers a throatgoat fr), size kink(???), hair pulling, slapping (okay maybe just one or two slaps...), throatpie, spitplay(???)

a/n: AUGH! i was kinda nervous writing this bc i don't think i'm too good at writing.... oral situations... D; BUT i think this is pretty OKAY! also, not proofread because i'm sorta tireddd

@poisonedprose ♡

since the two of you decided to begin your relationship, simon has become the most stubborn and uncooperative person you know. especially as he’s gotten to know you better and discovered that he loves to tease and mock you. because of this, it’s hard for you to get him to oblige to even the simplest of requests. 

the one day he finally agrees to do something you ask of him, you’d be on your death bed…. or so you thought..

“wait… really?” 

simon looks up at you through his sandy blond lashes “yea, sure.” you can’t tell if he’s smirking 

expecting him to protest, you were caught off-guard. something like this had only happened in your wildest dreams. ‘who are you? and what have you done with the real ghost?’ you thought to yourself, absolutely dumbfounded at the way that he, at long last, has finally agreed to do something that you’ve asked him to do.

“wait are you messing with me?” you ask, still in a state of disbelief, scanning his partially covered face in order to determine if he was actually being serious.

“no, why?” he responds with a blank expression.

after a short pause you ask him again “are you sure?”

“yea.. it’s no problem..” he replies, low and raspy “but you’re gonna have to do something for me in return, sweetheart...”

with simons hand held on the back of your head, his pulsating cock was right up against your lower lip, waiting patiently to enter the warmth of your mouth. 

“beg.” he commands, looking down at you, eyes piercing right through you. 

with precum pooling against your lips, you whine, eyes looking up to meet his, you feel your lips fall into a slight frown

the hand that was gently placed on the back of your head has now turned into fist, his calloused fingers tangled in the delicate flows of your hair. kneeling, he brings your face closer to his, “you’d better listen if you want this to go well for you, girl.” he breathes shallowly, “beg me.”

“please simon, i-“ the desperation in your voice is enough to make him growl. he smoothes out the hair his fingers were previously intertwined in, his eyes looking down at the sight of you, on your knees, begging your boyfriend to shove his cock down your throat. 

“such a pretty baby… on your knees for me.. sucking my cock.” he groans, continually hitting the back of your throat. you can feel his legs tensing when you gag against him. you hollow out your cheeks every time you pull off of him, only for him to shove you back down onto him.

“look at me, baby,” he hums, keeping a steady rhythm, watching his cock disappear into your mouth and down your throat, over, and over, and over again.. watching his cock create a bulge in your mouth.

it’s not that you don’t want to look up at him, it’s just really hard when he’s shoving his entire length down your esophagus at a continuous pace. 

“i said, look-“ simon brings his hand down onto your cheek, “-at me,” he slaps you a few times, not hard.. just enough to help you regain focus. 

“god you’re doing so well for me, baby..” he wipes the mixture of your spit and his precum off of your chin and rubs it on your cheek, “taking my whole cock down your throat..” he smears the rest of the mixture against your lips before slipping his thumb into your mouth, feeling the inside of your cheeks and how soft your tongue is on his fingers. 

bringing his dick back up to rest it on your mouth, he makes sure he’s holding your head steady. “open wide for me, little girl.” 

he fucks into your mouth, thrusting at a even faster pace than before, making sure to hit every inch of your mouth and throat. he loves it when you gag and choke on him, loves it when your eyes roll back, loves it when he pulls out of your mouth and you groan and immediately try to suck him back in.

with stuttering hips, his thrusts become more sloppy and frantic as he reaches his the edge if his orgasm. “ah!- baby.. ‘m gonna cum down your throat, okay?” he says, not asking, but telling.

as soon as you hear his moans and whines becoming more and more desperate, you push yourself farther down onto his length, moaning onto him as he grips your hair yet again. throwing his head back, he stays deep within the comfiness of your throat, allowing you to attempt to swallow the last bits of his cum.

as he pulled out, you choked, coughing as he tucks himself away. kneeling down in front of you, he caresses your cheek, kissing your puffy lips and tasting himself on your tongue. “god, you did so good for me, baby.” he mutters, placing more kisses along your jaw and neck.

“maybe i should start doing what you ask more often..”

constructive criticism is appreciated !!!

[neverwalka1one]

I got to see Wicked last night, and whoo boy I have thoughts. Cut for spoilers, you've been warned.

I'm looking forward to seeing the 'Good News' song at the end of the second movie - Glinda already looked conflicted about the Giant Elphie Effigy (good lord those munchkins work fast)

Also, I thought the movie highlighted better that those in Munchkinland knew Elphaba her whole life, and this is still how hard they bought in to the propaganda.

The little hint that Glinda's bubble is all mechanics. Chef's kiss.

Glinda's bubble has a Designated Landing Place. Just. Consider all that implies, with Glinda having been until very recently the Wizard's goodwill ambassador.

'Take it away' will never not be heartbreaking. Also, of course Elphaba is going to grow up a fierce defender of animal rights, she was raised by a talking animal, and that bear was the only one to be kind to her consistently through her childhood. Dafuq.

Baby!Nessa!Rose's little meeps. Just. I died.

'Oh, they're going to miss me.' Galinda I love you you ridiculous gal.

I like this twist on why Elphaba was at Shiz. I loved the way she so desperately wanted to go, but couldn't ask for herself. I loved her trying to defend Nessa Rose's independence... and then still being blamed for stifling her. Excellent.

Also did y'all see the picture of the animals behind the cracked and fallen fresco of the Wizard in that scene? Foreshadowing my beloved.

Galinda writing a little 'it's great' card put on top of the saddest pile of bedding you've ever seen.

'What is this Feeling?' omfg. I loved Elphaba putting her foot down about the roommate situation.

I also liked that they moved Elphaba's talk with Dr. Dillamond off-campus. It makes more sense that this status-quo challenging talk would be done away from the powers that be.

Also it sets up Fiyero running into Elphaba (literally) better, and omfg. I love that horse, he's great, more horse in the second movie please.

Omg Galinda flirting. And Fiyero flirting back, but Galinda (and Elphaba) missing that at that point Fiyero was flirting with pretty much everyone because hey, it's fun, it's easy, and it works.

On that note, Fiyero flirting successfully with the librarian. <3

The whole Ozdust scene. All of it. The outfits, the dancing, the prolonged social anxiety/social embarrassment. The way Elphaba refuses to show she's been hurt. The way Galinda finally understands that. THE DANCE APOLOGY.

I did find it a little weird that one of the only lines cut from the musical was the 'Lemons and melons and pears. Oh my' bit between Boc and Nessa Rose.

Also can we talk about how excellent Jonathan Bailey is as Fiyero?

'Popular' is, as always, fantastic. And highlights just how good Galinda is going to be at the politics of this world.

'That might be your secret, but that doesn't make it the truth' AUGH GALINDA just rip out my heart why don't you.

I liked that when Elphaba rescues the lion cub, she's more restrained/talented than in the beginning of the movie. It makes sense, she's been learning all this time.

THE BIKES. THE LION CUB IN THE BIKE BASKET. THE WIZARD OF OZ CALLBACK. LOVE.

The mushroom things during 'I'm Not That Girl', idk what those were but they were so so pretty lord I love the world-building.

That scene of Nessa Rose, Boc, Galinda, and Fiyero all together, and Elphaba on the outside in the dark. Fiyero looking out over the courtyard as he's being pulled away. Augh, all of it.

The way the students turned on a dime the second Elphaba got that invitation.

That. Train. Steampunk my beloved.

Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth getting singing roles, YES, THANK YOU, that was such a great surprise, I was squeaking like bebe Nessa Rose.

On the flip side... sigh. I called it. Jeff Goldblum was... very Jeff Goldblum. That guy, while a lot of fun, is the exact same character in pretty much everything he's been in for the last few years. I still think that casting was a mistake. Hear me out: The original Wizard was Joel Grey. Joel Grey was also the Emcee in Cabaret. ... so tell me it wouldn't both be great casting and an awesome call back to have casted Alan Cumming as the Wizard. I can't have everything I guess.

Also, and it might be just me/the effects of a late night screening, but when Elphaba and Galinda are walking into the palace, with the doors slamming behind them, and there's a scene with the torchlit hall behind them? Didn't the fire look like how the flames in the original Wizard of Oz movie looked? Just sort of... fuzzier and blurred than how film tends to pick up fire these days? It might have just been me.

Also this movie does have a bit of the Les Mis problem - you've got some cast members with serious vocal chops... and theeeeeen there's the ones that... tried hard. Great actors every single one, but would it have killed the director to find people for those roles that could match vocally as well? This movie doesn't need big names. We're not going for the big names, people.

I liked how the movie explained better why the Wizard not being able to read from the Grimorie was such a big deal.

The monkeys. Oh, the flying monkeys. Also the scene of Madam Morrible framed by flying monkeys. Thanks for breaking my heart.

'Defying Gravity'. All of it. Every bit of it. Holy. Shit. Holyshit. HOLY. SHIT.

So yeah, I'm going to have to see it eleventy-billion more times before it leaves theaters.

[skele-bunny]

So I had talked about this with Hypnone about Dewdrop having his BPD splits usually directed towards Aether as he's Dew's FP...... Here's the ramble!:

Dew having a fp bpd split and not realizing after getting back from tour (stress trigger). Just absolutely head over heels for Aether again, idolizing everything he's doing, even smothering him with more physical affections then what he normally does, and just on this bliss train. It takes Aeth a second to figure out what's happening but it gets obvious when he's called in to the infirmary and Dew just drops

"Why? Why are you leaving me? What did I do?!" He just yelling, absolutely panicked and holding onto Aether before shoving him away, then back to holding him. "Don't leave me, please don't leave me." Cutting to "Fine! Fuck you, fucking leave and I don't want to see you!"

Aether just giving a quick callback while Dew is having a full meltdown on their bed explaining he has to deal with something more important. Just speaking calmly, going to one knee in front of Dewdrop.

"Firefly, I love you a whole bunch. I want you to realize you're splitting right now. Can you do that for me?"

"I'm not fucking splitting! I just missed you and now you're leaving me when I haven't done anything!"

Aether just takes his hand, wiping away his tears. "Yes, you are. I love you more than anything in this world and I'm not willingly leaving you. You know I'm on call for the infirmary all the time now, and I know you're upset, I know you're stressed out. I'm not invalidating anything you feel right now, okay? I already called them, I'm staying right here until you're better."

"But I don't want you to leave!"

"And why is that?"

And Dew is just hiccuping as his thought process slowly starts getting more clear and not just straight black, his hair no longer smoldering. "I... Because I just got home, and we only spent last night together. I'm not ready for you to go away..."

"I know, I don't want to leave either. Tell you what, how about this: you let me go to work for a while, and I'll tell them I need tomorrow off. No ifs-ands-or buts about it. We can spend the entire day together."

Takes a bit more reassurance as Dew starts crying again, but he finally agrees. Aether dresses him in his clothes, even putting his side of the beds pillows around him. Makes a quick trip to the kitchen and brings back Dew's snacks and drinks he loves, then a movie.

"Your job is to watch this movie, and when I get back you have to tell me about it, yeah?" He's smiling as Dewdrop nods back with his own smile.

"Yeah! I can do that."

Multiple kisses shared and more reassurances before Aether finally dips away. He gets back around 1 am, and he feels bad as Dew is still wide awake, now watching some random show that's on. He's just smiling, making grabby hands for Aether and instantly starts rambling about the movie, snuggled right on his chest as he just babbles and babbles.

"Then Phillip gets really upset and ended up firing Dell, and then as time passes he ends up being called back by Maggie because Phillip is in a really bad depression and they repair their friendship, and then it cuts to the first scene where they're getting pulled over and it just- AUGH! It was such a good movie!"

Aether is smiling the entire time and holding him, kissing his cheek. "I'm glad you liked it! It's one of my favorites. By the way, I got us dinner plans for tomorrow, sound good?"

"Yeah!" Dew just looking up with half a smile. "Thank you for... You know... Dealing with me."

"Hey, I'm not 'dealing with you', I'm loving you. That's what a husband does!"

[starkeyslover]

Gojo being jealous

"Your my baby, you know that right?" Y/N said in a baby voice as she patted her cat. Gojo was watching from the door, jealous of the attention the cat was getting.

"Oh, you are so precious" She continued on praising the cat as she patted it and gave it lots of kisses. The cat loved it too, she was purring and sitting there contentedly with her eyes closed.

"AUGH YOUR SO CUTE I CAN'T" Y/N yelled out as she took the cat and held her in her arms while kissing the cats face. Gojo pouts wishing it was him. He comes into the room and lays on his stomach in front of his girlfriend and the cat.

"I'm cute too, you know?" Gojo said in a smug voice. His girlfriend opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Toru, look at her! She is so cute and she's gotten so big!" She said showing her the cat and Gojo pouts. He can't disagree, the cat is adorable and has grown a large amount since they've gotten her. His head falls with a groan.

"Yeah yeah, dont you think shes gotten enough attention already?" Gojo whined as he looked up to his girlfriend, his beautiful blue eyes looking into hers. She laughed.

"Is somebody jealous?" Y/N said in a teasing voice. She kisses their cat and places her to the side before falling onto Gojos back, making him groan out. Y/N giggles and sits back up before rolling Gojo over and sitting on his stomach, looking down at him.

"You want my attention?" She said, mocking the voice he makes when he teases her. Gojo nodded and put his hands on her thighs. She smiled down at him, bends down and starts kissing all over his face. He smiled contentedly and squeezes her thighs, earing a giggle from her. She kisses all over his face, nose, cheeks, forehead, temple, eyes, anywhere you can imagine. Before she pulled back she finally gave him a kiss on the lips before sitting back up.

"Better?" She asked him. He pretends to think for a moment and then nods his head.

"No" he said in a smug voice. Next thing she knew, Gojo had flipped them over and her thighs were on either side of his torso. She smiled at him and he grabbed her arm and brought it to his mouth and kissed her wrist.

"What are you doing?" She asked, holding back a smile but failed.

" 'mnothing" he said as he kissed her palm. She smiles and just then their cat jumped on Y/S chest. Ruining their moment.

"I think shes jealous now" She laughed as she moved her head to look at Gojo. He had one of those frown smiles on his face.

"Can we get rid of her?"

"SATORU GOJO!"

[imsofuckinggayforwomen]

so abt ur mitsuri and obanai throuple hcs,, osjndnd i love them both and your writing sm COULD U DO A SCENARIO WHERE reader gets off without them while they were on a mission so they catch and punish her.,,

AUGH THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA OFC!!

also YALL I got a ton of requests and I’m super super greatful! I’ll get through them throughout today and the weekend, once again thanks for requesting!

warnings: Smut, fem reader, threesome, MINORS DNI

Missing them 💜

Night has fallen once again, another day without your partners has passed. Obanai and Mitsuri were sent out on a mission a few days ago, their return date still unknown.

It really worried you. You knew they were strong, but you couldn’t help tossing and turning at the thought of losing them.

Though, there were a few other reason why you were squirming around in bed. You’ve been oh so lonely as of late, longing the touch of your distant partners. You could only imagine Mitsuri’s soft lips on your skin along with obanai’s scarred hands caressing your curves…Jesus you really were touch starved.

Slowly parting your thighs, your hands began to wander across your body. Surely they wouldn’t mind if you relieved some pent up stress, right?

Pulling your shirt up, you gradually began groping yourself. Closing your eyes, you imagined your two lovers beside you, encouraging your pleasure. The mere thought of their presence had you gasping into the sheets. Since you were currently home alone, you allowed your noises to echo throughout the room.

Little did you know, the very two you were whining for had just reached your shared estate.

Mitsuri yawned and stretched her arms up as Obanai opened the door for her. “I’m so tired Iguro! I’m sure y/n is fast asleep, I can’t wait to cuddle up to her!” She said, blushing with excitement. Obanai seemed distracted, his sharp senses prickling.

The door creaked shut, and silence fell around the two. Awkwardly, she turned her head to look at her quieted lover.

“Iguro?” Mitsuri spoke. “Are you-“

“Sh.” He cut her off, placing a finger to her mouth.

Once again, the silence settled in. The pair stood still, quickly picking up on some noise from their corridors. Mitsuri raised a brow, tip toeing to the staircase.

Then she heard it, the sound of you whimpering. Her face quickly changed, melting into a softened blush. She beckoned the bandaged man over, her face flushed with surprise . He did as she motioned and walked up behind her, his ears perking at the noise. The two exchanged a glance, a smirk settled on both of their faces.

Swiftly, Mitsuri pulled Obanai up the stairs and towards the bedroom you all shared. She bounced excitedly as she walked, blushing deepening when your noises grew nearer.

Finally, the two stood outside of the door. Obanai crouched to the ground, putting kabumaru down.

“Go to sleep Kabumaru, I will see you in the morning.” He said, the snake hissing in reply. The reptile slithered away as Obanai stood once more.

Mitsuri had her ear against the door, squealing as her own name fell from your mouth. “Iguro I can’t wait anymore, I’ve missed her so much” she whined, grabbing at the door knob. Obanai had already begun undoing his facial bandages, smirking at Mitsuri’s desperate tone. “That would make two of us” he said, placing his hand on top of Mitsuri’s and pushing the door open.

The sudden sound knocked you from your trance, quickly pulling up the covers to hide your exposed body. Though, your eyes softened at the sight of your lovers. “I-Iguro, Kanroji! I didn’t know you were returning-“

“Hush” Obanai interrupted, shutting the door. “We’ve heard enough of you.”

You covered your face in shame, realizing that they had clearly heard you in the act. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t-“

Once again, you were cut off. However, this time by Mitsuri’s lips crashing into yours. You gasped into her mouth in surprise, grabbing onto her shoulders as she pressed further into you.

After what felt like eternity, she pulled away. “Y/n I missed you so much!!” She whined, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I can see that you missed us too..” Mitsuri whispered, smiling as she felt your face heat up. Her gentle hands began to slide their way down your body, occasionally pinching at your curves. You panted heavily, desperately bucking your hips up to where you wanted touched.

Mitsuri giggled at this, finally running her fingers through your folds. “My my y/n, you’re so wet!” You whined in response, arching into her touch.

Suddenly, the bed dipped and you felt someone sliding behind you. Rough fingers pulled you up, placing your back to something warm. Peeking through your kidding eyes, you turned to see obanai sitting behind you. His hands slotted down your body, taking purchase in your hips.

“Go ahead Mitsuri, have your fun.” He finally spoke, holding you in place.

The pink haired girl clapped her hands in excitement, practically throwing the covers off of your lower half. You squealed as the cold air hit your wet core, attempting to close your legs.

Mitsuri’s strong hands stopped your thighs before they could touch. “Nuh uh” she said, forcing you open. She smiled as she admired your precious parts, absolutely no ounce of shame in her eyes. Obanai peered over your shoulder, slowly reaching his hand down to spread your folds for Mitsuri.

She snapped from her trance, swiftly leveling her head with your wetness. She wasted no time lapping at your clit, instantly moaning at your taste. You squirmed and writhed in her and Obanai’s hold, choked whimpers leaving your throat.

The man behind you began to press kisses against your neck, sucking marks into any place he deemed fit. You turned your head to give him more access. You let out a startled cry when you felt teeth sink into your skin, Obanai quickly pressing kisses to the newly formed mark.

Mitsuri was relentless, not even stopping to breathe. You whimpered and whined in your lovers grasp, the overwhelming stimulation being too much.

Mid moan, a pair of fingers were shoved into your mouth. Judging by the scarred feeling, you knew they were Obanai’s.

“Calm down” He grumbled, petting Mitsuri’s head as she stayed latched onto your clit. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”

Hard on yourself? Was this some sort of punishment?

Taking advantage of your confused state, Obanai roughly forced you to face him. Before you could even gasp, his lips were on yours. Every noise you made was swallowed by his mouth. Mitsuri’s gentle yet relentless nature clashing with Obanai’s roughness only aroused you further.

Mitsuri glanced up at the two of you, slowly bringing her hand down from your thigh and closer to your entrance. Two delicate but string fingers were pushed into you, Obanai’s kiss still absorbing your surprised noises.

“Let me hear her Iguro” Mitsuri whined, her mouth finally detaching from your clit. “Please”

Obanai reluctantly pulled away from your lips, a trail of saliva still connecting the both of you.

“Anything for you dear.” He said, forcing your mouth open with his hands. Mitsuri giggled at his words, swiftly going back to her place on your core.

Along with her relentless pursuit on your sensitive bundle of nerves, her fingers began to pump in and out of you. Your back arched and a disgruntled whine left your mouth, making both Mitsuri and Obanai smile into your skin.

“Igu- K-Kanroji- please-“ You whimpered out, body twitching as your high approached. Obanai held your form down with firm hands, allowing Mitsuri to speed up her ministrations with no obstacles.

Embarrassing noises echoed across the room, though that only seemed to further encourage your lovers.

“Go on y/n, cum.” Obanai whispered into the shell of your ear.

An addicting sensation overtook your body, clouding your mind with nothing but burning pleasure. Your orgasm washed over in waves, mouth opened in a silent scream. Mitsuri’s tongue and fingers rode you through the delicious feeling, allowing your body to gradually calm.

Pulling off of you with a pop, the girl in between your legs hoisted herself up. Her chin was slick with your arousal, the sight alone made you blush.

“Would you like a taste, Iguro?” Mitsuri asked, batting her eyelashes as she slotted her head up against his. “I’d love that” Obanai replied, leaning forward to capture her into a kiss.

You panted as your two partners kissed, finally feeling content with their presence.

However, you felt a hand reaching back down towards your core.

Obanai pulled back from Mitsuri, eyeing down on you. “Don’t think we are done yet, you still have to pay for touching yourself without us.”

sorry guys this took all day to write I had to do it in small sections since I had a close friend over 🥰

However I hope you enjoyed! I’ll be getting back to the rest of the requests tonight and this weekend!!