#he should have lots of jewelry and little diamonds i think

[i-am-megalodonna]

DOC. M SEVENTY SEVEN RAHBHHHH

[whytheylosttheirminds]

happy birthday, baby (part one: birthday girl)

(boyfriend!rafe x girlfriend!reader two-shot)

summary it's your first birthday as rafe's girlfriend, and he's desperate to show you just how special you are to him...

content fluff! smut! 18+ minors do not interact!

(part two)

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“It’s too much, Rafe!”

The pile of presents in front of you is outrageous. Bows and bags and big, meticulously wrapped packages.

“Never too much for my girl,” he stands back, beaming as he watches you take in the display with your mouth agape.

“I don’t even know which one to open first,” you muse.

“Any of ‘em. Just not,” he steps forward and plucks one bag from the pile, “this one. This one’s for last.”

You eye him suspiciously as he sets the bag on the kitchen counter, out of reach. 

“What surprises do you have planned, Cameron?”

“If I told you,” he smiles, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso, “then they wouldn’t be surprises. Now pick a present or we’re gonna be here all day.”

“Excuse me, I will not be rushed on my birthday,” you say defiantly.

“Not rushing you,” he drops a kiss on your shoulder, “just got a lot of shit planned for ya, I don’t want to waste any time,” he clarifies.

“There’s more?” You turn in his grasp, eyes wide.

He’d already woken you up with breakfast in bed, and an adorably off-key, groggy voiced rendition of ‘Happy Birthday.’ His bedroom was full of flowers and balloons, including two big pink ones displaying your new age. After you ate the fluffiest pancakes you’d ever had in your life, he slipped a heavy diamond necklace around your neck, kissing your shoulders as he clasped it. Giving him a million thank you kisses, you told him you loved your present, and he chuckled, leading you to the kitchen to the mountain of additional presents you’re now ogling.

“So much more. I’ve got a whole day planned for you, so let’s get to it,” he said with a quick tap on your ass, making you giggle.

“Okay, okay! I want…that one,” you point to the largest package in the back of the pile, “‘cause it’s big.”

“Huh, where have I heard that before?” He pretends to think, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

You roll your eyes, shoving him back by his shoulder and scoffing, “you’re on another one today, I swear.”

“Just excited to celebrate you,” he grins, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before pulling the biggest present out of the pile.

You sit in one of his dining chairs, opening present after present, each one delighting you more than the last. Flashy and expensive; a new bag, two pairs of shoes that have been on your wishlist forever, jewelry until you’re dripping in diamonds and precious gems. Sweet and sentimental; a printed album of all your instagram posts since the two of you got together almost a year ago, a gold ring engraved with a handwritten message, a crystal picture frame with a shot of the two of you on his boat at sunset. 

You wonder if it’s possible for your heart to actually burst from affection.

When only one present remains, you eye the counter quizzically, waiting for him to bring you the little bag he had set aside. Rafe just makes himself busy picking up the discarded ribbons and wrapping paper, a little blush on his face as he focuses on the chore.

“Rafe…” you try to get his attention.

“Yeah?” He leans down to pick up a bow that had fallen under the table, when he stands, you step in front of him, grabbing the trash from his hands and setting it to the side. 

“I want my last present please,” you smile, hands cupped in front of you expectantly.

He scratches the top of his buzzed head, taking a deep breath, “why don’t we wait? I booked you a spa appointment so you should probably get ready…”

“Rafe,” you cross your arms over your chest, “why are you being all squirmy?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t know if you’ll like it, I don’t want you to think…anything.”

You had no idea what he meant by ‘think anything,’ but this whole you not liking something he took the time to pick out for you business was just nonsense. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood up on your tiptoes to place a soft, steady kiss on his lips. 

“Well I do know. I’m gonna love it, because you got it for me, and I love you,” you ease his worry.

You had told each other you loved each other for the first time a little over a month ago, but it still feels like fireworks everytime one of you says it. Nothing in life is sweeter than the sound of his quick, reassuring “love ya” before hanging up the phone, or his whispered, emotional “I love you so much,” when he’s buried inside you late at night.

“I love you too,” he grins.

“Good,” you place one more kiss on his lips, “then I would like my last present now, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smirks, walking you toward the kitchen, kissing you all the way as he backs you up step by step.

By the time you reach the kitchen island, you’ve almost forgotten about the striped gift bag waiting for you there, distracted by his lips and the cute little smooches they’re making against your mouth with each step.

He reaches back for the bag without pulling away, holding it behind his back as he ducks down for one last peck before swinging it forward and presenting it to you.

“We can take it back if you don’t li-” you silence him with a finger to his lips.

“Shhh, it’s my last present of the day, let me enjoy this,” you request.

He nods solemnly, waiting until you were looking away, too distracted by the tissue paper in the bag to see the smirk growing on his lips as he thought about his actual last present for you. A rush of nerves shoot through him as he pictures the little black velvet pouch sitting in his nightstand drawer. 

Obeying your request, he bites his tongue as you pull out the rest of the tissue paper. When you finally see what’s sitting in the bag, a slow, delighted smile spreads across your face. You don’t pull the gift out, just bite your lip as you blink up at him through your lashes. His cheeks are adorably pink. 

He’s never bought you lingerie before. He’s seen you in plenty of it, though. Hell, he cleared a whole drawer for you like a month after you started dating, telling you to take as much space as you needed as long as he was the only one who got to see you in it. But the thought of him actually going into the store and asking the sales lady for exactly what he wanted to see you in, surely pulling out his black card and telling her the price tag was not an issue, made your belly tighten with lust.

“Ah I see,” you smirk, “it’s a present for me and for you.”

He nods with a lick of his lips, “you gonna try it on for me?”

You lead him to the chair you were sitting in to open presents, guiding him to sit and placing one more kiss on his cheek before excitedly padding to the bedroom to get changed. He watches you go with his tongue pressed into his cheek, readying himself, wondering how the fuck someone like him got lucky enough to be with someone like you.

Rafe had picked out the cutest little set for you. Matching floral bra and panties, sheer and constructed with hardly any fabric at all, a matching garter belt and thigh high sheer stockings. You gasp when you see the price tag, understanding now why the fabric feels so nice and the stitching is so intricate. 

You take your time pulling it on, both to be gentle with the expensive pieces and to tease the man waiting for you in the other room. The thought of him squirming in that chair wondering what the hell was taking so long makes you giggle.

“The fuck are you laughing about in there?” He calls out impatiently from the other room. “You’re killin’ me!” 

You laugh hard at that, head falling back in delight as you clip the last strap of the garter into place. You add a pair of kitten heels to tie it all together and run your fingers through your hair, one quick look in the mirror to appreciate yourself before stepping slowly from the room.

“Sorry to make you wait, baby,” you tilt your head apologetically and step towards him tauntingly. 

Rafe just smiles and looks to the ceiling, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

“What?” You ask as you approach, hands finding his and bringing them to rest on either side of your waist.

His thumbs trace circles into your skin, “just don’t know how I got so fuckin’ lucky. Must’ve done something right in a past life.”

Your skin goes hot at his words, and the way his eyes are skimming over your body like you’re the eighth wonder of the world.

“Nah, I think you just did a lot of things right in this life,” you pull his arms so he’ll rise to his feet.

Rafe lifts his arm with his hand still holding yours, spinning you with his pointer finger like a ballerina, memorizing every inch of you as you twirl for him.

“No man could possibly be good enough to deserve you, baby,” he responds, his large, rough hands running over your bare hips, guiding you to hop up and wrap your legs around his waist. “I’m just the luckiest guy in the world.”

You kiss him, too overwhelmed by the way he’s looking at you and holding you up to say anything in response. No one has ever made you feel so special, so wanted. He’d kneel down and kiss your feet if you asked him to. But that’s not what you want right now.

“Need you, Rafe,” you mumble against his lips, legs squeezing him tighter, hands splayed on the back of his head like you’re trying to permanently seal his mouth to yours, “please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, angel,” he coos, “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Cause it’s my birthday?” You tease.

“No. I’ll give you anything you want every day of your fucking life,” he swears, “you deserve the world.”

But you don’t want the world, you just want him.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you sigh, lowering your core over his growing hardness, playfulness gone and replaced by frenzied need.

In response, he shifts to hold you up with one arm, using the other to sweep aggressively at the counter and knock all its contents to the floor chaotically. You love him wild like this, complete disregard for the dishes and various items he’s just sent flying across the kitchen, too drunk on you to even attempt making it to the bedroom. 

He drops you onto the counter, not too hard to hurt, but just hard enough to make your tits bounce and a little “hmph!” to rise from your chest. You’re pulling him to you in seconds, nails clawing at his shoulders and the back of his head as his lips devour yours. He slots his hips between your knees, forcing your legs to fall open for him.

“Gonna make you feel so good, birthday girl,” he promises, chest hovering over you powerfully, lowering you slowly until you’re laying down on the counter, your legs dangling off the edge. 

He kisses down the column of your throat, nipping and nibbling all the way as he hooks his fingers to slip under the straps of the garter belt, pulling until the clasps break away from the top of your stockings with a snap!

You gasp, “you’re gonna break my present!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he shakes his head, bent in half to lower his mouth down your body, sucking purple splotches into the sensitive skin of your stomach, claiming you with every mark.

When he’s satisfied with his artwork, he lifts himself up, piercing blue eyes consuming you with an adoration you’ve never experienced before. You writhe a little under his hungry gaze, and his eyes wander to the panties he gifted you, corners of his mouth perking in a grin. His hand snakes up your thigh and he sweeps his thumb over your covered slit without warning, making you gasp and arch off the cold counter.

“Looks like you already made a mess of your present anyway,” his eyes twinkle with mischief as he spreads your wetness through the fabric.

“Can’t help it,” you whine under the pressure, “you always make me so fucking wet.”

He’s desperate to taste you, lowering to his knees and dragging your panties down with him. Gripping your hips, he pulls you to the edge of the counter, closer to his mouth. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the sting outweighed by the pleasure. 

You arch toward him, desperate to feel his mouth on you, but his fingers find you first. He spreads you, groaning a strained ‘fuckkkk’ at the sight. He gathers your slick onto his fingers so slowly, so deliberately, it’s driving you insane. 

Finally, finally, he lowers his mouth and licks, ever so gently, up your center. You’re on fire, the cold marble counter below you doing little to cool your spiked body temperature. 

Between deliberate licks he whispers praises, his tongue and voice taking turns worshiping you.

“Do you know I belong to you?” He confesses, his other hand gripping the edge of the counter so hard it almost cracks. “Do you understand that you fucking own me?”

“You talk so pretty, baby,” you moan, losing your grasp on language as he sends lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through your body, “love that mouth.”

“It’s yours,” he promises, finally lapping at your clit with a pointed tongue, “it’s all yours, everything I’ve got.”

“Just want you!” you cry out when he pulls the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard.

“You have me, ‘m not going anywhere,” he says after releasing your clit with a pop. His middle finger, already soaked from you, dips into your entrance slowly. “You’re my everything, forever.”

Rafe continues to wrap you in soliloquies of praise as his other hand kneads the skin of your stomach reverently, like a potter molding his clay.

It’s these promises that make your head spin, drowning in the tapestry he weaves with his words until all you can think, all you know, is that you love him. When a second finger enters you and his mouth finds the spot he knows so well, everything in the world fades. The only thing that means anything is this man and the way he makes you feel.

His fingers twist and twirl inside you while his mouth works your clit. You’re beside yourself, feeling your release creep closer and closer with each flick of his tongue. You grab the edge of the counter top for purchase, but it’s not enough. Your hands paw at his head, wishing there was something more to ground you. 

You love his buzzcut, you had an appointment in your shared calendar each month for him to dutifully sit on a stool in the bathroom while you redid it with the electric clippers, but in this moment you wish for the first time that he’d grow it out. You tuck the thought away for later.

He loves the way you’re clawing at his scalp, and clenching around his fingers, knowing you’re close like he knows everything about you. He grabs one of your hands, offering his to you so you can squeeze as hard as you need to, loving the pain as he pushes you to the edge.

You cry out his name when you come, nearly breaking the bones in his fingers. He doesn’t stop until the very last wave of ecstasy rolls through you, his body hovering over yours as he soothes you through the cool down.

“You have no idea what you mean to me,” he whispers into your collarbone, following the vulnerable words with a shaky kiss.

“I think I have some idea,” your palm glides over his scalp, where you were just leaving scratches, inspecting to make sure you hadn’t done too much damage. “Because of how much you mean to me.”

He just shakes his head, his buzzed hair tickling your chin.

You both rise from the counter, Rafe straightening your lingerie set and taking in his gift to you one more time. He stands between your legs, fists on the counter as he leans forward on flexed arms.

“How am I supposed to top this?” You wonder aloud, hands smoothing over his shoulders and your head tilting in that adorable way he’s obsessed with.

“What do you mean?” He puzzles.

“When your birthday comes around,” you explain, “you’ve set the bar so high.”

Rafe smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. His gaze wanders from you as he pulls back slightly.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he shakes his head.

“Are you joking? And miss the chance to celebrate you?” 

“We- I don’t really do birthdays,” he says, and before you can pry any further he adds, “plus yours isn’t even close to over yet.”

Rafe lifts you effortlessly from the counter, making you yelp in surprise. You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you to the bedroom, thinking obsessively about the way he accidentally said ‘we.’

Your heart breaks picturing younger Rafe, no birthday candles to blow out on his big day, no crowd of friends and family singing to him, no one to make him understand how special and worth celebrating he is. 

No, that just wouldn’t do. You start planning the second he falls asleep that night, determined to make his next birthday the best he’s ever had.

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[verstappen-cult]

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, LESTAPPEN.

PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader x charles leclerc.

SUMMARY — It's the day after the race in Las Vegas and Max and Charles wake up with a huge headache, two rings in their fingers and no idea of what happened the night before.

GWEN'S MESSAGE. this was requested by @piastrification! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i had so much fun writing it! and i hope you like it. as always comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Max wakes up with an awful headache and very thirsty. He tries to adjust his vision to the sunlight but every time he tries to open his eyes, there’s a shooting pain in his temple. 

He groans, rolling around in bed. Next to him is Charles still sleeping on his belly, messy hair and something like confetti around him. 

Max can’t remember anything from last night. Well, he remembers going out with Charles, Lando, Daniel and Pierre and then a lot of shots and dancing and people shouting their names and then… nothing. 

“Fuck this.” He whispers and gets out of bed very slowly, feeling dizzy. 

He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and have a big glass of water before he passes out from dehydration. 

Max is filling a second glass when he sees it; a silver ring around his left ring finger. 

He does not wear rings. 

“Max?” Charles calls his name and Max walks back into the room with his heart hammering in his ears. 

“Did you give me this ring last night?” He asks even before Charles has time to properly wake up. 

“Uh?” The Monégasque says, sitting on the bed and looking confused at the hand Max has up in the air, showing him the piece of jewelry. “No?” Charles rubs his face with his left hand but stops halfway when he feels something on his ring finger. “What the fuck?” 

There is a silver ring, just like the one Max has, on his finger.

And that is not one of his rings because this has three little diamonds encrusted in it. 

“Max,” Charles breathes, a shiver running down his spine as he looks at his boyfriend. “What happened last night?

They look at each other with wide eyes, a million thoughts running through their heads. 

“I remember leaving the club with the boys and then everything goes black.” Charles gets out of bed to look for his phone because there must be something in there, but all he finds are five missed calls from Pierre and a lot, a lot, of messages from you on the group chat. 

“What’s wrong?” Max asks as he walks away to fill a glass of water for Charles. 

“Y/N is here,” He answers, showing him the phone and thanking him for the water with a kiss on the cheek. “She’s downstairs waiting for us with Lando.”

Max groans, falling back onto the bed. 

“I feel like we did something really stupid last night.”

“Shut up, we didn’t do anything.” Charles busies himself with looking for clothes in his suitcase, so he doesn’t have to think about last night. 

They should forget about last night. Last night didn’t happen. 

By the time they made it to the lobby, Max and Charles had agreed that they needed to talk to Lando before talking to you about the shit show that was last night. 

They may not know exactly what happened, but by the matching rings they know it’s nothing good.

However, they forget about it when they see you standing next to Lando wearing the most beautiful floral dress and your perfect smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Max says, taking off his sunglasses for a second to give you a peck on the lips. Then, he’s putting them back on. 

“How’s the hangover?” You tease them, feeling Charles' body tensing next to you. And you really want to laugh because you know exactly what happened thanks to Lando and a very detailed story. “What did you do last night?”

“Nothing,” Charles is quick to answer, looking at Lando and silently begging him to do something. But Lando just laughs. “Lando, can we talk for a second?”

“What do you need to talk to him about?” 

“Oh, just about something Dani asked us to do before he left last night.” Max lies and if it weren’t because you’re in a good mood and know why they are lying, you would feel angry. 

“Oh, but Dani’s right there.” You point behind his backs and they immediately turn around to find the Australian man talking on the phone. When he sees them, a big smile spreads over his face, giving thumbs up before going back to his conversation. 

“Now, why are you lying to me?” You bite your lip, trying to keep up with the show. “Did you do something I should know about?”

And then, they say at the same time:

“I swear we didn’t do anything, we went to sleep early!”

“We don’t remember what we did last night, okay?!”

Lando bursts out laughing, even bending down as he tries to breathe properly, which draws the attention of a few people around that slowly start to recognize them.

“Well, I guess I’m not needed here since you keep lying to my face.” You pretend to be hurt and it's not easy when all you want to do is laugh in their faces.

Max and Charles start talking over each other, trying to make you understand what is actually happening. 

“And then we woke up this morning with these!” Charles takes Max hand in his, showing their rings. “I swear to god we don’t know what happened.”

“We were so drunk.” Max looks at his feet, feeling embarrassed. He never drinks that much, but apparently last night was a special occasion. 

“Oh, but I know.”

They look at you, expectantly, surprised, confused, a mix of emotions on their faces. 

You take out your phone, looking for something before turning the device around so they are able to see the screen. 

“You got married.”

There on the screen is a picture of Max and Charles with an Elvis impersonator between them, holding his left hands up in the air showing their rings while Charles is holding up his phone with a picture of you, a drunken smile on both of their faces. 

You slide your finger to the left, and a video starts playing. 

You can hear Lando laughing while recording. “What are you doing?” He asks, walking closer to Charles who is looking down at the picture of you on his phone. 

“Baby, we got married!” He exclaims as Max wraps an arm around his waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “She doesn’t answer. Why isn’t she answering… Are you mad, baby?”

Dani appears on the video, laughing his ass off as he takes the phone away. 

“You’re not on facetime, you idiot. It's a picture.” Pierre says from somewhere next to Lando, probably.

“Say hi to Y/N!” 

“Hi baby!” Charles really likes to call you baby when he’s drunk. 

“We got married!” Max says a little too loud, but doesn’t care and kisses Charles cheek. “Look, we have your ring right here.” He shows a silver ring similar to the one they have, the difference is that the diamond in the middle is slightly bigger. “Congratulations!”

The video ends with all of them laughing. 

There’s a minute of silence before Charles speaks. 

“Okay, it wasn’t that bad.”

“What!?” Max looks mortified. 

“Well, everyone knows that weddings in Las Vegas aren’t actually weddings.” Everyone looks at him at a loss of words, but he just keeps going. “We aren’t actually married.”

“Charles,” Lando laughs a little more. He’s definitely having the time of his life. “weddings in Vegas are very real. You are married.”

“No we’re not!” 

Max sighs, placing a hand on his boyfriend — husband’s shoulder. “Charlie, we are.” 

Charles gaps, immediately looking at you. “I’m so sorry! We didn’t know!” 

You can’t help it anymore, so you laugh. 

“Oh my god, you should see your faces!”

Max and Charles look at each other, and then at you. They don’t have a clue about what is happening anymore. Not since last night. 

“You’re not… mad?” 

“Well,” You wipe the tears from your eyes, shoving your phone back in your purse. “I was at first, now i just find it hilarious.” 

“I’m so sorry, schat.” Max runs his hand through his hair, looking sheepishly at you with a pout on his pretty lips. 

“It is your fault!” Charles says out of nowhere, pointing a finger in Lando’s face. “Why didn’t you stop us?”

Lando raises his hands in surrender. “I tried!” 

“You should’ve tried harder!”

“Max promised to let me win if I let you get married!” 

“Max!” Charles says, offended. 

“I won’t do that.”

You shake your head, patting Max’s cheek lightly, condescendingly. “You will if you want me to forgive you.”

[luvjunie]

— less is more

pairing: e-42!miles morales x fem!reader

contains: some tears, a little misunderstanding but a fluffy ending

summary: miles makes quite a bit of cash from his jobs, and with his love language being gift giving he often likes to spend a lot of it on you. however, you didn’t grow up with much, and this makes it especially hard for you to accept such expensive things from him without feeling overwhelmed. wc: 1,224

a/n: based off this request! some people might find this reader easier to relate to so i definitely wanted to write it

Gifts were something that came with the territory of dating Miles Morales. Big bouquets, flashy accessories, shopping sprees at the mall, and probably every single stuffed animal he’d ever caught you eyeing whenever the two of you went out. If you so much as looked at it, it was on your fire escape the next morning. At this point, you had so many on your bed that you were starting to run out of room to sleep.

And you knew he meant well, and you tried your best to enjoy it the way you imagined you should but it was all so foreign to you. Your life was much different before you met him, and it was more along the lines of nervously checking your bank account to see if you had enough cash to buy a five dollar starbucks drink to ‘treat yourself’, or if you’d have to wait till next week’s paycheck for blended coffee with some whipped cream on top.

Most of your clothes were hand-me-downs from your older siblings, or duds you’d secured from the Salvation Army a few blocks down on the colored-tag sale days, and that was the way you liked it. Humble beginnings is where you came from and humble was the way you intended to keep it.

So now as you stared down at the small jewelry box in your hands, Tiffany & Co embellishing the top in silvered letters, trepidation began coursing through you at the size of the box alone. Anything that came in a tiny package such as the one you were holding was bound to cost more than anything you’d ever managed to buy yourself. You realized you must have been lost in thought as you sat gawking at the untouched gift, because your boyfriend’s voice sounded like it was underwater the first few times he called out to you.

“Baby?”

“Hm?” You blinked, looking up at Miles from where you were seated on his bed to see him leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Go ‘head and open it, don’t leave me hanging.” Miles joked, brows bunched slightly in confusion.

“Oh— right,” you laughed half-heartedly. Swallowing hard, you gently pried the small box open with hesitant fingers to reveal the prettiest diamond necklace you think you’ve ever seen. Light glinting off the encrusted jewel, Miles waited with bated breath as he watched your hand tremble towards it, a choked inhale catching in your throat as you felt the weight of the pendant alone.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

“How much was this?” Your throat felt tight; uncomfortably so, like the air in the room suddenly wasn’t the kind you were meant to breathe.

Miles glanced to the side for a moment, then stood up straighter. “I mean, I paid for it if that’s what you’re asking...”

“How much was this, Miles?” Voice trembling when you spoke, you asked again but louder, and this time he knew you actually wanted an answer.

Confused because he didn’t take you for the materialistic type, he racked his brain for the memory of the total the clerk had read out to him and scratched his forehead.

“Like… three hundred and some change…maybe? Probably four? I don’t remember. Why does this matter?” He let out a peeved sigh, eyes widening as he watched your shoulders start to shake.

“Ay, mi amor, ¿que pasa? (what’s wrong, my love?)” Miles asked gently as he rushed to sit next to you, taking the jewelry box from your loose hold. He looked down at it disappointedly, lips pursing at the necklace he’d spent so long picking out. He thought you would’ve loved it. “You don’t like it? I can get you somethin’ better—“

“No, Miles. I… It’s perfect.” Warm tears rolled past your waterline and you wiped them away in a rush, aggravated that you were even crying in front of him about something like this. How could you explain yourself without sounding ungrateful or confusing him even more?

Miles licked at his dry lips as he tried to think of what to say. He was usually so good at reading your body language, but this time he was completely lost. You could see it on his expression when you looked at him that he was having a hard time understanding what was going on, and it only made you cry harder.

“No entiendo… (I don’t understand…)” He set the box down next to him and took your hands into his, head lowered to try and meet your averted gaze. “I’m lost.. If it’s perfect, then what’s wrong?”

You inhaled a wavered breath, the feeling of his thumbs rubbing the backs of your hands serving as encouragement for you to go on.

“I just…” taking a breath, your shoulders shrugged weakly. “You spending money on me like this, I— It feels like I’m using you. You should be spending your hard earned money on things for yourself, or… saving it for better things, not spending it on me.”

“Money is nothing to me when it comes to you.” he denied immediately.

“I know, and that’s the problem.” Your lips trembled, but thankfully you were able to prevent more tears from coming.

“Y/n, I—“

“Just, please. Let me finish.” You pleaded quietly, looking up to see him slowly nod at you. “I love you, Miles, and that means I love everything you do for me as well. But I’m not used to things like this.” you looked in the direction of the overturned jewelry box. “It’s a lot.”

Silence filled the space around the two of you. You felt incredibly guilty for even bringing it up, it was never your intention to make him feel this way. There was an energy shift and you could sense him regressing back to the version of him that once didn’t know how to express his love for you.

“I’m sorry.” he murmured simply. He didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t even understand, but he offered it to you anyway.

“No no no, Miles,” You guided his doleful eyes back to you with a hand on his cheek, your tone sincere. “I love the way you love me, really, I do. You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s not your fault— I’m just not that kind of girl and I don’t know if I ever will be. But the way I grew up and the things I’m used to have nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me, okay?”

He frowned slightly. “So… No more gifts, then?”

You shook your head. “Giving me nice things is how you show your love towards me, I know that, and it would be unfair for me to take that from you. I’d be crazy to not appreciate how you’re always thinking of me wherever you go.”

Chewing on your thoughts, you contemplated the best way to give your answer.

“Okay, so it’s like this,” you sat up a bit. “You could give me a rock, and I’d cherish it like it was the best thing in the entire world, simply because you gave it to me. What I’m trying to say is how expensive the gift is doesn’t matter, all that matters is that my wonderful—“ your head dipped to meet his avoidant eyes. “caring, and thoughtful boyfriend got it for me. I don’t care about the money, I only care that it came from you.”

Miles brightened a little at that, and started to put things together after your explanation. “So, I can still get you nice things, but… less is more?”

A melancholic smile touched your lips before you pecked his cheek. “Less is more.”

He picked the small jewelry box up from the bed. He understood you completely now, but was still a bit bummed. “Does that mean I have to return this?”

You immediately shook your head. “Of course not, baby. I love it, and I think it’s beautiful. Just keep what I said in mind for next time, okay?” He nodded and you turned your back towards him so he could put it on for you.

“Good, cause I kinda lost the receipt.” Miles smiled coyly at the slightly shaky laugh that sounded from you as he unclasped the necklace, draping it over your chest and fastening it.

You peered down at the gorgeous piece around your neck, gently gracing over it with your fingertips. Your heart warmed at the thought of him picking it out for you, how he spotted something this beautiful and needed you to have it. You had to admit, it was absolutely stunning and you didn’t think you’d be taking it off any time soon. Even if the price of it had almost sent you into shock, you were more than grateful to have a boyfriend like him.

“Thank you, Miles. I love it, really.” You faced him once again with your confession, the sincerity laced in your tone accentuating the adoration in your eyes. Your hand caressed the apple of his cheek, it raising when he smiled contently and leaned into your palm. “But I love you, more.”

[ckret2]

Chapter 27 of human Bill Cipher trying to trick his captors into liking him, featuring a mall shopping trip that turns into this:

Also, Bill faces the most difficult ethical dilemma of his life: should he act like a big jerk to a 13-year-old.

####

As they left the cheap jewelry kiosk, Bill tapped his new dress shoe against Stan's ankle to catch his attention. "Hey. Your cut." He flipped a ring in the air.

Stan caught it and inspected the symbol on its surface. "Is that the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel?"

"You gave your protégé your fez, I thought you might want a replacement! I know how proud you are of your lodge membership, Fisherman."

Stan admiringly studied the ring and its open-mouthed crescent fish; then the corners of his mouth turned down. "Ahhh, it wasn't my membership." He stuffed the ring in his pocket.

"No? I got one with the Fishmasons symbol if you'd like that better." Bill spun the oversized ring on one finger. It slipped off and he fumbled trying to catch it.

In the smoothest move he'd pulled all summer, Dipper caught the ring before it hit the floor. He ignored Bill's outstretched hand and inspected the complicated tool-lined diamond symbol. "Fishmasons? I thought they were called..."

"Yeah, you would," Bill scoffed. "Do you believe everything you read in The Paranoia Code? You know novels are usually fictional, right?"

"But don't masons work with stone? How does a 'fish mason' make sense?"

"If everyone knew what it meant, it wouldn't be a secret society, would it?"

Dipper gave up on prying anything more than snark out of Bill and turned toward Stan. "The Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel is associated with the Fishmasons, right?"

"Yeah," Stan said, "they're uh, sister organizations or something, I think. It's complicated."

"It's a spin-off organization," Bill said. "All Mackerels are Fishers. Once you've reached the top rank in the Fishers, you're eligible to join the Holy Mackerel."

"Yeah. What he said."

Dipper nodded. "Sooo... is it true that the Fishmasons are secretly... working with the government, or...? I mean, yeah, I read it in a book. But they've had a lot of real historical figures."

Stan snorted dismissively. "If they are, they didn't invite me to those meetings."

"Well sure. The lodge that decides politics is in D.C.," Bill lied. Dipper's head whipped around to stare at him. Ha. When they got home, Bill would have to spend some time deciding which would be the stupidest conspiracy theory rabbit holes to send Dipper down. If he played his cards right, by Thanksgiving he could have the kid spouting rubbish that would alienate half his extended family.

"Would you stop staring at me like that?" He shoved the side of Dipper's face; and, while he was distracted, grabbed back the Fisher ring to inspect its symbol. Kryptos's face. Far better drawn than Bill could do. And the thin little layer of gold atop the ring should be enough to enhance Bill's psychic signal. Maybe that would be enough to get a call through to the Nightmare Realm.

He tucked the ring in his shoe and turned to Stan. "Anyway, if you think that was good, you should see what I can do in a real jewelry store. What do you say?"

"I dunno. Jewelry shops are tricky, they're always on the lookout for shoplifters."

"They never catch teams and we've got two rambunctious kids to split their attention. I'll do the distracting, you do the lifting. When's the last time you had a gold watch that isn't cursed?"

"Nope!" Mabel, who'd been trailing behind the group with her arms crossed, finally shoved her way between Stan and Bill. "That's enough! We came here for a good time, not a crime time!"

"We came here to go shopping," Stan protested. "We're shopping!"

"Yeah, we're just getting the best discount possible."

"It's like advanced couponing."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"No!" Mabel stood in front of them, arms and feet spread wide like a barrier. "Grunkle Stan, you should know better. You're letting—" she dropped her voice to an emphatic whisper, "Bill talk you into doing bad stuff. The whole reason you came along was to make sure he can't do that!"

Stan snapped, "Oh, like you didn't just make us stand around for an hour while you played dress up with him! Why's it okay when you play with the demon, but nobody else can make him useful?"

Mabel winced. "No, that's not... I mean..."

If this conversation went the wrong way, Stan and Mabel might both talk each other out of doing anything interesting with Bill. He'd better defuse this situation quick. "Hey, c'mon, Stanley, that's your niece. Don't be so hard on her."

There was a flicker of irritation on Stan's face directed at Bill, followed by a flicker of guilt toward Mabel, followed by him grunting and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

That was one threat neutralized. Bill turned his grin on Mabel. "Sorry for monopolizing the trip, kid. We'll make it up to you! Fordsy got you that cute crystal bracelet, didn't he—wanna graduate to some real gemstones?"

"Hey, yeah," Stan said, immediately perking up. "You like jewelry! I can get you something with hearts or kittens. Way better than a bunch of boring rocks." Bill mentally patted himself on the back. Oh, he was so good at this. Good old sibling rivalry. Families were so easy to manipulate.

Mabel slapped her hand over the rainbow crystal bracelet mixed amidst her other bracelets. "I don't want you to get me real jewelry!" she shouted; but Stan had already set out on his new mission, with Bill trotting along just behind him. "Not if you have to steal it!"

"Relax!" Bill waved without turning around. "We're a couple of pros, you've got nothing to worry about." He elbowed Stan before he could absorb Mabel's protests. "Don't worry, once she's older she'll appreciate what a financial investment fine jewelry is. Never too early to buy a little gold. Or—well—acquire gold."

"Yeah," Stan said, "who knows when the next apocalypse is gonna be."

"Could be any day now," Bill lied.

"The only bracelet I want is this one!" Mabel waved her arm in the air, pointing at the shooting star friendship bracelet Bill had made. But Stan and Bill were too far away to care about her protests now.

Mabel's shoulders slumped. She glowered at the friendship bracelet. It didn't seem as friendly as it did when Bill gave it to her. "This whole trip was a mistake, wasn't it."

Dipper grimaced. "I didn't say it."

"You don't have to." Mabel sighed heavily. "I don't know what got into me. B—Goldie's been so nice lately, I thought he was making progress! But he's been nothing but a creep today. Guess the niceness was all an act."

"He can act nice for a long time. It took Grunkle Ford almost three years to figure out how evil he is." When Dipper concluded that this hadn't had the comforting effect he'd intended, he asked, "Do you wanna tip off security about the jewelry heist?"

Mabel sighed again. "No, I don't want Grunkle Stan to get in trouble. And if Goldie's arrested he might spill the beans to mall security. Let's just wait outside by the car."

"Yeah, all right," Dipper said. "If they don't come out in twenty minutes, we'll call Ford."

Headed the other way across the mall, Bill said, "So, a watch for you, a necklace or something for the kid, and for me... they probably don't have crowns here, so—"

"Whoa, hey, I don't remember offering to get you anything," Stan said. "I already got you fancy shoes and a bunch of clothes. We're square."

"We're no such thing. Besides, why should I help you if I'm not getting anything?" Bill asked. "Maybe earrings? Gimme a nail when we get home and I can pierce my own ears—"

His arm was wrenched backwards and he fell on his back.

Thirty feet away, Mabel yelped as she was yanked back and landed on her butt.

Bill and Mabel turned around and stared at each other.

Bill said, "Right! Forgot about that. Just—get over here."

"No!" Mabel shouted. "You get over here!"

Bill scowled. "Come on, kid. Your great-uncle and I are trying to do something here. If you don't want to come along, at least let Stanley have the other half of the bracelet—"

"I said NO!" Mabel planted her feet wide apart and tugged her wrist back as far as it could go. "You used me! You were only nice so you could go outside and I fell for it! As soon as you got what you wanted, you started acting like a huge poop face again!"

"Wow, language—"

"I'm not helping you anymore!"

Bill could feel his face heating up. "Kid, don't be ridiculous! You can't stand there forever! You're being..." selfish, irrational, petty—what word would get him what he wanted?

The pedestrian chatter over the inoffensive mall music had fallen silent. The feeling of being watched crawled over his back. (He seemed to discover another unpleasant new human bodily sensation every day.) Oh. Witnesses. There was no way the stranger in a shouting match with a little girl was coming out of this looking cool.

He could still save face if he got her uncle to do Bill's arguing for him. He turned hopefully to his new shoplifting buddy. "C'mon, she's—she's being unreasonable, right? We're talking about one watch, here."

And Bill had lost him. Stan's expression hardened. He crossed his arms and Bill flinched at the movement. "If a stupid watch is gonna upset Mabel that much..."

Families were so difficult to manipulate! Why did they have to gang up on him, it wasn't fair. He shot a furious glower at Mabel.

And then laughed, loudly enough for the rubberneckers to hear. "Okay, okay! You win. Sheesh, you look so serious. Peace talks in front of the Kidz Zone?"

Sternly, Mabel said, "Okay, but you do not get to ride the little coin-operated train."

"I wasn't gonna ask!" Bill paused. "Or the—?"

"Or the helicopter!"

Dipper called, "You haven't earned it, man."

"Fine," Bill snapped, "I didn't want to ride it." Swallow your disappointment, Cipher. Just play it cool.

When they'd rendezvoused, Bill said, "Okay, I might have gone a little overboard. Big deal. But we've been here all afternoon, we haven't eaten, I'm sure that's why everyone's so testy. Let's just swing by the food court and then get out of here."

Mabel frowned. "You're just trying to get us to stay."

"Yes. I am. So that we can eat before we go." If he ended this on a win, even a small win, that would be what everyone took away and he could call this trip progress. "Funny thing about human bodies is they need to be fed a couple times a day. Maybe you've noticed."

Dipper frowned. "Dude, you're only eating twice a day?"

"I don't question your diet, get off my back. What do you think, Stanley, feed the kids before we go?" Bill might've lost Mabel, but he had a shot at securing Stan. He could work on Mabel again once they were home. "You wanna drive home a couple of cranky teens, or a couple of cranky and hungry teens?"

Dipper snapped, "We're only cranky because of—!"

"Nah, he's right," Stan said wearily. "I'm starving. We'll grab something quick to eat."

Bill immediately perked up; but Mabel's frown deepened.

####

"I want chicken strips," Dipper said. 

Mabel said, "I'm getting pizza."

Bill said, "I want—"

"I don't care what you want," Stan said. "I'm getting a burger and you're getting the fries."

"Oh, so you want to find out what I'm like when I'm the cranky and hungry one?"

Stan grunted. "Fine. Your budget's five dollars. I really do only have a twenty."

"Fine." Bill drifted over to Mabel, who'd gotten in line in front of the food court's pizza booth. "Hey, Shooting Star—"

"Leave me alone, jerk."

"Whoa, am I not allowed to get a slice of pizza?"

Mabel didn't respond. She was glaring through the glass display window at the available pizza flavors as she waited for her turn to order. Apparently Bill interpreted that as permission to stay and look over the flavors himself. 

Standing so close to Bill Cipher when Mabel didn't want him there was like having a monster breathing down her neck. She hadn't realized how hover-y he could get until it stopped being fun. She remembered something like this from Ford's lesson on cults and con artists, how they try to get into your head by talking and talking and not giving you any time and space to breathe.

She could feel Bill's heavy gaze on the side of her face. Dipper and Stan were at the next restaurant over, but Bill stood between her and them. The chain bracelet on her wrist felt like a handcuff. She wanted to rip it off and be free of him. She wanted to go home.

"I've never had American pizza before," Bill said. "What do you think, cheese or Hawaiian?"

Mabel screwed up her face. "Ew, the one with pineapple?"

Bill's grin twitched wider. "Is that a vote for cheese, then?"

Gross, he was trying to get her to talk again. She glared at the pizza more determinedly. "Get what you want, I don't care."

Bill sighed. "Fine. You're no fun." He looked over the pizzas—standing too close—for one brief moment of heavy silence; and then, pointing between the cheese and Hawaiian, murmured to himself, "Eenie, meenie, miney..."

Mabel's whole body went stiff.

####

She felt the oppressive oven-like heat of Bill's dark floating pyramid, a too-euclidean temple built without the comfort of humans in mind, so hot that touching the walls burned your skin; and she felt a sticky sweat running down her back. She felt the constant electrical static of Bill's glowing shadowy grip around her waist. Every time she shifted and struggled, her sweater crackled and stung her. Bill's hand felt like nothing, absolutely nothing, and it was crushing and inescapable.

She could hear his voice, that forced jollity pushing to the verge of exhausted hysteria, saying, "I think I'm gonna kill one of them now just for the heck of it!"

She could see his eye like a blood red spotlight, eye like an incinerating laser, the light swallowing her and Dipper; she heard her heartbeat pounding in her ears; she saw the symbol that represented her flashing in Bill's eye, and even before he stopped she knew it would be her. 

"EENIE... MEENIE... MINEY..."

She saw his hand tremble with rage as he prepared to snap her out of existence.

"YOU!"

####

"Hey, you." Bill put a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "What are you getting? Maybe we can split two slic—"

There was a wild look in Mabel's eyes.

The moment she seized his upper arm, he knew he was ending up on the floor and it was going to hurt.

She spun her back to him, jerked him against her, and flipped him over her shoulders. It was bizarrely relaxing, that second spent floating upside-down in the air. Familiar, comforting.

And then he slammed back first on the tile floor. And it hurt.

He stared wheezing at the faraway lights until his internal organs remembered how to lung. The world was too bright; he'd lost his sunglasses. He sat up and gingerly felt the back of his head. It had cracked open, he was leaking internal organs—no. That was his hair. His head was fine.

Dizzily, he asked, "What was that for?" He shook his head to clear it. "Hey. Hey! What the heck was that for!" He grabbed the counter and got to his feet, and almost slipped back down on his first attempt. "I've been a little obnoxious but what'd I do to deserve a surprise attack out of nowhere? What, were you just waiting for a chance to get the jump on me—"

And then he saw the look on Mabel's face—the absolute unadulterated terror—in the split second before she gave a little flinch of realization and the guilt kicked in.

Baffled, he looked past her and the confused nearby mall-goers to Stan and Dipper—who thankfully didn't look angry, but they also didn't look as confused as Bill felt. They had tight-lipped white-faced looks like they understood what they'd just seen perfectly.

"What," Bill said. "What'd I do? Was it something I said?" He racked his brain. He did something that scared the dickens out of them—because all of them were giving him that look—it was three against one, something must have happened that he didn't pick up on. Something that made humans nervous that wasn't important enough for someone like him to recall?

He didn't know what.

That was it. He lost. All his work was undone, they were afraid of him again, they saw him as a threat and they'd lock him back up in the shack. There went any chance of ever seeing the outside world before his execution. There went his hopes of befriending the more pliable humans, or winning Ford back over. There went his conversations with Mabel. And he didn't even know what he did wrong.

If he killed Mabel and cut the bracelet cord, was he fast enough to escape before Stan and Dipper could react? If he lunged over the counter, could he get the pizza cutter and slit Mabel's throat before she flipped him again?

He saw a flickering glimpse of his uncoordinated scramble in the futures where he tried; the scene quickly fizzled out as he concluded it wouldn't work.

"Sorry," Mabel said. "Instinct. You know how martial arts are! You get it trained into your muscle memory, and... and... I... didn't mean to do that, that was my bad."

No less confused, Bill said, "Yeah, no, sure, it's—it's fine." He couldn't afford for it not to be "fine"; he didn't know what the other options were. "I know I cut an intimidating figure." He laughed weakly.

He couldn't apologize even if he wanted to. He didn't know what he was supposed to be apologizing for. He was still watching Mabel's face and Dipper's and Stan's for any context clues to explain what just happened.

And Mabel said, voice small and shaking, "You... don't wanna hurt us again, right?"

Bill blinked slowly at her.

It was the stupidest question he'd ever heard.

She had to know that. Everyone watching had to know that. Bill had been plotting how to hurt them again not fifteen seconds ago. He had every reason to want to hurt them—his very survival depended on finding a way to hurt them—and anyway, regardless of his intentions, obviously if he was asked he'd say "no," wouldn't he! As if he could admit to his captors that he did want to hurt them! It was such a breathtakingly stupid question that he could laugh.

He didn't laugh. He didn't point out how dumb she was for asking, or what a waste of time the question was, or remind her that they both knew there was only one answer. He didn't want to show off how effortlessly he could talk circles around humans; he didn't care about making her feel stupid.

He only wanted Mabel to stop looking at him like he terrified her.

So he said, "No. Of course I don't want to hurt you." He nodded toward Stan and Dipper, "No promises about these guys, they've been making fun of our fashion sense all afternoon, but... not you." He held up one hand, showing Mabel the friendship bracelet she'd given him with the evil eye beads. "You gave me a new job, remember?"

He'd hoped the jokey half-threat might help lighten the mood, maybe get her to smile; but she just nodded. "Okay."

Okay.

Stan shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Welp. I lost my appetite. We're going home."

####

Bill didn't care about Stan and Dipper glaring at his back as they trudged toward the exit, but Mabel walking so quietly beside him was sandpapering at his nerves. If he were back home and she were one of his usual pack of friends, he could just order her to perk up or else get out of his sight until she did—but that wouldn't work here, where he was currently not all powerful, he didn't have supreme control over everybody in the vicinity, and they did have to share a ride home. If he tried to get all imperious on her, she'd never speak to him again and Stan would probably break his skull.

What could he do to make her less nervous?

"Hey." He held out his hand to her. She gave it a quizzical look, then looked up at Bill. He said, "Can't hurt you if I can't use my hand, right? Unless you expect me to start biting."

Mabel said, "This isn't, like... a deal, is it—?"

"No! What? There's no deal, where would there be a deal?" Irritably, Bill said, "I'm just trying to help, if you don't think it's helpful then fine, whatever—"

Mabel took his hand. He shut up.

She flinched in surprise and pulled her hand back, holding the ring with the Fishmasons symbol. "I don't w..."

"I know you don't. Listen—we're all going to jail if we go back to 18th Century to return anything, but... I mean, we pass the ring kiosk on the way out, so..." Was that enough? Would that do anything?

She pushed it back into his hand. "You return it."

Irritation flared up his throat; he swallowed it down. "No problem." She was probably worried he was trying to set her up.

As they walked past the kiosk, he steered around to the side opposite the teen manning it; ran one hand over the rows of rings like he was idly inspecting the designs as he passed; and with a subtle movement, slid the stolen ring back amongst the others without pausing. He showed Mabel his empty hand to prove he'd done the deed.

As they moved passed the kiosk, she took his hand again. He squeezed hers back.

He'd find another way to get a message out to Kryptos. That dumb cheap ring probably wouldn't have worked anyway.

Dipper muttered, "You're still a threat if you have one hand free." He took Bill's other hand. They simultaneously shuddered. Never mind the being-watched feeling Bill had earlier, this was what the phrase "skin crawling" truly meant.

But Mabel immediately perked up. "Thanks, Dipper."

Oh! Sure! Thank him. Bill shot Dipper a dirty look and tightened his grip. (It wasn't even tight enough to hurt.) "I forgot how sweaty your palms are."

"Shut up."

Behind them, Stan grumbled, "I'm just glad you only have two hands."

"Hey!" Bill twisted around to give Stan an exasperated look. "Do you have any idea how much I envy you right now? This is torture. I can feel every fingerprint on these two. How come you're the only one who doesn't have to suffer."

Mabel laughed weakly. "Because Grunkle Stan never tried to end the world."

"Neither did I." He sighed exaggeratedly. "But fine—I'll take my punishment like an adult."

He'd gotten a laugh out of Mabel. That was good enough for now.

####

As soon as the car pulled around to the house side of the shack, before they'd even come to a stop, Bill unfastened his seat belt, shouldered open the door, and tumbled out into the sunlight and dirt. A couple of stolen shirts fluttered free.

"Hey!" Stan rolled down his window. "Get back—! How'd you get that door open?!"

"I never closed it!" Bill was already doing cartwheels across the grass, turned like a sunflower to catch the early evening sunbeams filtering through the trees. "I just pulled it close to the car."

"It was ajar the whole drive?!"

"A jar of what?" Bill's cartwheels were already better than the ones he'd tried earlier that day.

Mabel winced. "Sorry, Grunkle Stan, I should have checked..."

"It's not her fault!" Like heck was Bill letting Mabel get in trouble over one little door. "I'm an out-of-control agent of chaos! I'd ride home sitting on the roof if this body had the friction to stay put."

Stan snapped, "Next time, that's where I'm putting you!"

While Stan parked properly and everyone else got out, Bill got tired of cavorting and trudged up to the shack. He kicked his shiny new shoe against the wall as he waited for the Pines to let him inside.

"Glad that's over," Stan sighed. "I'm never going shopping with you again."

Yeah, sure he wasn't. Bill could work on him. Stan would want a new watch eventually.

"And I'm still starving," Stan said.

"Pizza," Bill said. Dipper and Mabel perked up like a couple of dogs that had just heard their owner say walk.

"Ehh..."

"Hawaiian," Bill added.

Stan looked considering. "I do appreciate pineapple's laid-back, tropical attitude." Dipper and Mabel groaned in disappointment.

Bill proposed, "Two pizzas."

The Pines and Bill went inside, and the door swung shut behind them.

None of the humans noticed the minuscule break Bill had kicked in the shack's unicorn hair barrier.

####

(Thanks for reading, y'all! I've been really looking forward to posting this chapter, so if you've got any comments or thoughts, I'd love to hear them!)

[wriothesleybear]

~warnings: modern!au, mostly fluff with a little bit of smut (i couldn't help myself), mentions of creampies, gn!reader(hopefully i did it right this time), MDNI!

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who's the #1 boxing champion with a high winning streak. He's on the cover of magazines and has a lot of fame and fortune, which he uses to spoil you. Buying you fancy clothes, expensive jewelry, taking you to the most expensive restaurants, and just buying you whatever you want. You tell him that he doesn't have to spend so much money on you, but he just grabs your hand, kissing it while telling you that it makes him happy spoiling you with gifts. How could you deny him happiness.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who works out with you. He either has you sit on his back while he does pushups or has you lay below him where every time he pushes down, he kisses you. Sometimes, it just ends up in a long, passionate make out session. Maybe something a little more *wink wink*. Just seeing you all sweaty and breathing heavily as you work out near him. Seeing you stretch your limbs, especially the one stretch that gives him a good view of your ass, makes it hard for him to control himself.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who saves a front row seat for you to his fights so you are able to watch him better. When he needs the motivation during his fight, he looks out in the crowd searching for you. Once his eyes land on you, he smiles and winks at you, gaining the motivation to fight and wanting to make you proud. It makes him happy seeing you supporting him in the stands, cheering for him, and screaming his name. If you make him a little sign, it'll make his heart skip a beat.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who immediately looks for you after a fight. Once he spots you, he heads straight for you, pulling you into a tight hug. Even though he's all sweaty and musky, you don't mind, wrapping your arms around his neck. He passionately kisses you in front of the crowd. It shows how much you mean to him. Plus, it's his way to thank you for being there for him and supporting him.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who melts when you give him massages to help him relax his sore muscles. Your massages especially help him when he's stressed for an upcoming fight. All worries leave his mind once your soft hands explore his body. He groans when you push on the right spots where he's the most tense.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who enjoys the celebratory sex you two have after he wins a fight. You prefer 'celebrating' at home, but sometimes when he's still full of adrenaline from the fight, he can't help taking you right there in the locker rooms. You could do it in his personal dressing room like usual, but he thinks its much more exciting with the risk of being caught. Your moans echoing in the empty space, the sounds of your ass slapping against his pelvis, getting him closer to the edge. It's not a celebration if it doesn't end in him creampieing you.

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who loves the gentle care you put in when patching up his wounds, making sure to carefully patch them up so as not to irritate them. After you finish patching him up, you smother him in kisses, making sure to add extra ones on his boo-boos. Moments like these remind him how lucky he is to have you. He should do something about that. Maybe a ring will do..

Professional Boxer!Wriothesley who buys you a big, fat diamond ring. He plans this whole special proposal for you. He takes you out to dinner, feeding you the most delicious foods. Once stuffed, he takes you to a movie, where he rented out the whole theater just for you two. After the movie, he takes you to the small boxing club where you two first met. He thinks it's the perfect place to propose. He leads you into the center of the boxing ring, holding your hands as he gives you a speech about how much you mean to him. Then he gets down on one knee and pulls out a red box, holding the most gorgeous ring you've ever seen. You can't help the tears from flowing as you say yes. Once he slips the ring on your finger, you jump into his arms, tightly hugging him and pulling him into a kiss. You both end the night making passionate love in your shared bed, fingers intertwined as he slowly pumps into you, filling you up with his seed.

[alllgator-blood]

I have ten billion WIP sketches I need to finish, but for some reason I stayed up from 9 PM to 4 AM conceptualizing, making patterns, sewing, painting and applying makeup on this stupid fucking felt squid......the detailing needs to be cleaned up cause there's only one coat of paint so far, but he's pretty much done

my neighbors probably think I'm insane because I was running around the yard clenching this toy kallamar in a death grip and flying him around like an airplane/putting him in the barbecue/poking him with a stick. I want to tie him to a string and recreate the opening of napoleon dynamite >:) ALSO I MADE HIM SMOKE OUT OF A STUPID CRYSTAL PIPE BUT PLEASE DON'T ACTUALLY USE THOSE, THEY ARE SUPER TOXIC LMAO MINE IS FOR DECORATION

I don't have any process pics because I had tunnel vision autism style and forgot the rest of the universe existed while I was working on him. BUT if you're curious I'll ramble below the cut

Okay I am not a seamstress by any means. I've sewn my entire life but very, very infrequently. I've done plushies, clothes, cosplays, fursuits, accessories, etc. but I only do one like once a year, so while I planned to make all 5 bishops, I'm not really sure I'll get them all done. The material cost was like 20 bucks tops so I'm not too upset if I don't finish them. I AT LEAST WANT TO GET SHAMURA OR HEKET DONE.

here is the concept sketch ft. heket's toes and shamura's fingers. I decided to do his pre-schism version so I could fit him with jewelry! I did him first because like I said I sew infrequently and don't know wtf I'm doing, everyone else seemed a lot more complicated.

So I basically just traced this drawing on a printer paper-sized canvas in SAI, and guesstimated how everything would look in a 3D space. His head is four pieces, one triangle identical to the one in the picture, two wide triangles that are sewn together in the back, and a circle for his chin. You can't really see it in any of the pics but he's literally like a black cylindrical stick with little tentacles sewn on where his mantle connects to his cloak. The leg tentacles are one piece of felt that look like tassels, where they're connected by a rectangle but branch off into individual pieces. He can't stand up very well, so his cape keeps him up (that's gonna be an issue for every other bishop too except heket cause she's gonna be ROUND). Mostly everything like the crown, cloak, head, etc. are cones so I just had to make a lot of wide triangles.

For the details, I just used acrylic paint that was watered down so he's not especially crunchy, and for the blush tone I used a makeup palette my mom bought me 10 years ago in hopes I'd get in touch with my "feminine side", but I grew up into a nonbinary butch lesbian so OOPS. Kallamar looks better with makeup than me anyway. I'm kinda sad I couldn't get his freckles as lopsided as I draw them but it probably looks better in plush form to have them even anyway....

I could just post the pattern so I don't have to explain this but 1. I am mentally ill about the thought of my kallamar being in someone else's house and 2. the original pattern had to be tweaked while I was working on him so the final pattern straight up doesn't exist, I winged it the whole time

OH and the jewelry is just scrap pieces I had laying around, I might repaint it all to be gold instead of silver + bronze. I used 20g aluminum wire for his armlet thing, jumper rings for his earrings + ring (+ a diamond dot from my mom's kits for the gem) and chain for the bracelet. I made him an amulet as well but it felt like overkill so I took it off. I'm probably gonna make him a plague doctor mask and medicine bag sometime because I think about nurse kallamar more than I probably should :') I've already sewn one as a prop for a toy raven before so it shouldn't be too hard

[phaticserpent]

hello!

I've been thinking lately about what Ultron would be like as a husband, it's a little weird but I've been thinking about what he would be like as a husband hehehe

You're not weird :] I constantly imagine and think of him as a husband hehe Warning: suggestive??

After a lot of convincing himself to go through with it, he had proposed to you on a special day - the anniversary in which you two made the relationship official or when you two started dating. Forget going out and buying a diamond ring, he had made the jewelry for you, crafting it out of the leftover vibranium he had. The stone embedded was the same color as his eyes or optics.

Ever since you said, 'You have really pretty eyes'

He was shocked and in awe that someone liked them, something he grew to dislike until you would gaze into his eyes like it was everything you wanted to see.

The red crystal was shiny and reflective like his eyes and you adored it. Obviously you said 'yes' to the proposal, much to his relief. And the wedding was perfect, a simple ceremony between the two of you in a remote island where the two of you read out your vows under the setting sun. Then you spent some time stargazing and talking, it was generally a peaceful and intimate moment, something you and him would come to cherish.

It was a couple of months after your marriage, smiling at the ring on your finger as you woke up. Ultron had already gotten up, making breakfast and organizing around the house. He turned when he noted movement, smiling softly as he walked towards their shared bedroom.

"Good morning." He smiled.

You rubbed your eyes and smiled at him. "Hey! Good morning!" You reached out, your arms wrapping around his waist and resting your head on his chest. "Any plans for today?"

Ultron's hands rubbed your back as he hummed. "Mm, not at the moment. I have time so I can cook anything you like." He planted a soft kiss to your head. "How are you feeling?"

"Seeing how I'm walking and talking, not bad." You laughed. Ultron smirked at you.

"Guess I just have to do better." He leaned in, his voice dropping low with a sultry tone. His hand reached down to trace your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing against the soft of your cheek.

"Hah.....don't joke about something like that." You laughed nervously. You knew he wasn't joking and his slow smug smile proved that.

"Oh don't worry.....I'll show you how serious I am soon enough." He let out a low chuckle, gently guiding you to the dining room. "But first, you should eat and drink. I made you your favorite for breakfast." He hummed innocently, as if his promise to rearrange your guts wasn't just made. You laughed at his change in demeanor, finding it endearing as you walked alongside him, your hand intertwined with his.

"I love you."

He squeezed your hand as he smiled at you. "I love you."

Overall, his general demeanor and attitude doesn't change. He's still very caring and attentive, he tries to spend more time with you now that the two of you are officially engaged. Although he tries to still help the world one by one, you're his world.

It gets especially intimate in the bedroom (well, things have been intimate anyways but he's somehow doubled it). He would always hold your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours as he leans down to say, "You're mine. No one else's but mine...."

Taglist: @moonr3ap3r @thequeerwasteland

[bsgpiece]

Really enjoy reading your thoughts and seeing your artwork on SaNami moments. You capture them so well! I'm sure you get plenty of these kinds of questions so apologies for asking about another one.

What are your thoughts about a SaNami marriage proposal and how do you think it would happen?

Finally I got to answer this question!!! It took me months because I really couldn't decide how it would be. I'm so sorry! First of all thank you so much for saying this, it means a lot to me!!! Hope you like this post as well!

Here goes my thoughts about it... Warning for a VERY LONG post! (Almost a fanfic lol)

Sanji always wanted to marry Nami. Ever since he first saw her! Even more after they shared their feelings for each other, their first kiss...

They weren't even together yet when he bought the ring he would use to propose to her. They had stopped by an island famous for their diamonds, and when he was going to buy supplies, he saw that ring on a jewelry shop.

He just knew Nami-san would love it (he was actually lucky he found it before her, otherwise she would have already stolen it lmao), just didn't know when to give it to her. It had to be on a very special ocasion.

Time passes, the special ocasion never seemed special enough. Deep down he knew it was a engagement ring and it would only suit for a proposal... and then, they got together. Like, all his dreams became true. He could finally ask her to marry him, right?

Could he? Should he? Was he actually enough to give Nami all the wonders she deserved?

It's been some time since he last doubted his value that much. He learned his lesson in WCI, but... would Nami want to spend the rest of her life with him? Because that's what marriage means to him. Could he actually make her happy for that long?

On the other side, Nami always new, deep down, that a relationship with Sanji would last as long as she wanted. She had that kind of power over him, but more importantly, she was completely in love with him. Being with Sanji just gave her that comfort of knowing she would never be alone again, a feeling that she would be happy forever. Yes, forever. If it depended on her, their relationship would be for the rest of their lives.

She just didn't say these things out loud all the time. Nami just assumed, after such long time as nakamas, and then as lovers, Sanji knew this already.

Nami knew Sanji wanted to marry her. He always talked about growing old together, kids and family. But as time passes, she tought it was actually weird he never proposed.

She even started to doubt herself. What if Sanji didn't want to marry her afterall?! What if he didn't love her?

Yeah, no. That's silly.

There's got to be a reason. Nami swore to herself, after rescuing Sanji from WCI that she would not misread his feelings ever again. So she started to provoke him, once in a while showing him pictures of wedding dresses, talking about the married couples they met at islands and how it would be sweet to be like them... sometimes she would even say she always wanted to rob a engagement ring, but didn't have the opportunity.

And then.. she would observe his reaction.

Sanji got nervous a little everytime. However, she could see a spark in his eyes when he said no other woman would look as beautiful as she wearing those dresses... or that any life they chose would be the best, as long as they are together...

But then.. He would sometimes ask her if that's what she wanted. If she could she them together for that long when they saw old couples passing by... How perfect she was and how she deserved the best of the best forever.

And then it clicked her. Yeah, this time she read him well.

That damn traumatized man. How big of a idiot he was. How many times did she have to tell him she loved him? Nami even got a little angry when she realized he was actually insecure.

How can a man like him fight the worst enemies in the world without any fear of death, and at the same time be afraid of being rejected by a woman who openly said the loves him?!?!

Oh well. Guess she did had to give him a little push.

Sanji already planned a thousand times his proposal, but he would never think any of the possibilities were good enough. He was thinking so much about it, trying to get the courage to actually do it, that he would always carry the ring with him anywhere they go.

He never new when or if he would do it. He wanted so, so bad to ask her. He needed to.

One day the crew stopped by an isolated island. There were only a few small villages around, but the place was beautiful. One of the most amazing beaches they ever saw.

Before Sanji could think of anything, Nami asked him to take her on a walk at the beach on sunset. Of course he said yes with big heart eyes.

The crew were all exploring the island while they went the other side, walking by the sand till they were distant enough not to be seen.

Sanji was not prepared by how beautiful Nami looked (he never was). She was wearing a simple, yet gorgeous, green dress. He could see she even put on a little make up. This was an actual date, he thought.

Nami hold his hand really tight, she knew this was her chance to tell him what he needed to hear. This time she was the one who felt nervous.

Nami stopped walking and stared deep into Sanji's eyes for a while, without saying anything. She had planned telling him how she valued him and how she wanted to be with him till her final days. However, when she was about to say anything, she notice Sanji's hands trembling while holding hers.

He started to caress both her hands and looked down at them, avoiding her eyes for a few seconds.

What a big idiot he was.

He knew Nami better than any man ever could.. He connected the dots... Sanji glared back at her, he sensed her uneasiness. How could he doubt himself so much he let her realize that and want to reassure him?

He always admire how smart and determined Nami was. Why would he doubt her decision to be with him?

Suddenly a wave of courage overflowed him, and Sanji got on one knee right in front of her.

He never been so scared in his life, but if he was to be rejected, it better be after actually having the guts to ask her, right?

Nami froze for a second. She was planning on giving him a little push, but she never thought he would actually... propose?! Not that she didn't want it. She never got so many butterflies in her stomach like in that moment. How did he know what she was going to say? Was that observation haki?

Before she could think anything further, he slowly let go one of her hands and got something on his pocket.

Wait, did he actually had a ring all this time?! How didn't she notice? She wasn't the catbuglar she once was... erm, not that it mattered now. She quickly paid attention to him again.. and damn. He opened that little box and showed the most beautiful ring she ever saw in her life (and no one knew about jewelry like she did).

Sanji slowly started to speak, his voice trembling a little.

"N-Nami-san... I'm sorry I took so long to finally do this...

I love you more than anyone or anything in this world. I don't know if I'll ever be enough for you, or if I'll be able to give everything you deserve in this life... But I swear making you happy is and will always be my priority. Even though I'm a big fool...

Will you marry me?"

Damn right you're a fool. She already forgot about the ring while looking into his eyes while he spoke. She couldn't contain her smile.

Finally, she thought.

"Yes, I will."

She said, very affirmative, so he wouldn't misheard it.

His eyes widened, like he wouldn't believe what she just said. In seconds, he couldn't even see her straight for how many full of tears his eyes were.

"R-really? Am I really worth of... of spending the rest of my life with you?"

She sighed. Eyes also tearful.

"Of course, you idiot."

I don't even have to say they hugged and kissed right after!

That day the Thousand Sunny had one of it's biggest parties.

About the wedding itself, let's talk about it some other day!

If you got till here, hope you enjoyed it.

I would love to hear everyone thoughts!!! 🧡💙

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

I have a couple of question-headcanons-idea thingies about Yves appearance if u don’t mind. So would Yves wear more gold or silver jewelry? Like I can’t decide whether he would have cool undertones or warm undertones. Cool undertones because of his sometimes very icy nature, steely stare and almost vampiric aspects of his nature. But also could be warm because of the motherly warmth and comfort he gives off, he reminds me of a hearth.

Also we gotta talk about how tall this man probably is like legit. Like you always describe him as tall and slender but it didn’t hit me until today that this man is probably a beanstalk. So like he was a model at one point which lets me know that he’s at the very least 6-6’3 naturally, now imagine the heels along with it, I dunno I personally think with heels he may be taller than Monty which adds to the intimidation factor.

Omg and his HAIRRR!! I always wondered what his natural hair texture is like whenever he doesn’t do blowouts. Like does he have naturally straight, wavy or even curly hair, I personally think he would have straight or slightly wavy naturally but I dunno, what r ur thoughts (if you have any, it’s okay to keep these things vague if u want)

(One day I will draw him Omg as u can see I have completely hyper fixated on him if I was reader I would be in his walls fr 😔)

Ou shid i am the opposite of minding, PLEASE DO SEND MOARR it also feeds my brain rot

anyways,

Yves only wears jewelry if it completes his look or it can aid him in manipulating people somehow.

When it comes to his outfits, he would wear silver if his clothes that day have cool undertones, and gold if it's warm and deep-toned. Yves could be your thermometer, if he knew that you're most likely to overheat that day, he would stick to cool neutrals. If it's chilly, he would don warm colors. Likewise with his choices in jewelry. Numerous other factors will determine his fashion, but the strongest influence is the weather and how he could use it to his advantage, making him much more appealing to you.

Yves's fingers are generally free of rings unless you and he were married. Then the wedding band will only leave his finger during certain situations such as performing surgery on you or cooking your meals. When he was younger, one of his favorite rings to wear was the brass knuckle. It would be a determining factor whether he beats his opponent into a bloody pulp, or he becomes one. As he grew older, he swapped that out with a quieter, secret compartment ring. A dash of whatever poison he decided to fill up that day does wonders without the mess and effort of throwing repeated punches. Perhaps you're particularly rowdy that day and wouldn't listen to reason, a little sedative would do the trick.

He does wear earrings though, mostly Diamond studded earrings because large or hanging ones would be more likely to snag on his hair and something else. He learned the existence of earlobe reattachment surgery through the hard way when he forgot to remove his hoops before a fight. But it doesn't mean he would never rock bolder styles, just rarely. During periods when he would wear his hair up, you would most likely see him wear pendant earrings that elongate the appearance of his elegant neck. Yves's extensive collection of jewelry he collected over the decade means you never see him wear the same set twice.

His height was kept vague because it would give me a lot of freedom to play with how he holds you. But just remember that he could carry you with one arm under your rear, on his hip, like a child. And to get to your eye level, he has to kneel. The height of his heels definitely depends on his goal and your personality, perhaps you're intimidated by his height. So he wears kitten pumps around you. However, to everyone else? Stilettos with red bottoms all the way.

Yves can wear flats or shoes, but why should he have to? He has worn heels for so long that it's actually much more comfortable to move in those torture devices. If you handed him a 20-inch lobster heel, Yves would walk or even run around in it as if he were wearing a pair of comfortable sneakers. His footwear must have at least a minimum of 2 inches on its heels.

If you pay close attention when he's barefoot, he's walking on his toes; he would be completely silent when moving around. But he's barely seen without some sort of footwear, even his home slippers have some height to it. This is mostly to alert you of his presence, so you won't have a heart attack whenever he greets you with a kiss on the back of your head.

His hair is implied to be naturally straight; he needed to sleep in silk curlers to look effortlessly gorgeous the next day. For the longest time, he hated his hair for not maintaining shape whenever he tried heat curling it. He wore extensions and wigs, and Yves tried shaving it all off to 'reset' his hair- that was one of the rougher patches in life he went through, he has experienced it all. Yves spent a good fortune on hairspray back then, he probably contributed greatly to the puncturing of the ozone layer. He wanted volume, he wanted structure, but he either didn't have the knowledge or the means to achieve that. Eventually, though, he learned through trial and error, through endless magazines and even research projects on how to care for his hair to look like his ideal. It's much thicker, healthier, and shinier than that of his past.

You wouldn't need to be in his walls, it's dusty there and you would get electrocuted with all the wiring in it. Yves wants you to come out so you would be in his lap, while he types away on his laptop. It's much more comfortable there, he wouldn't mind staying in the same position for hours and hours on end.

Just as long as you're fed, cleaned, using the toilet enough, and sleeping well. Yves will let you hyper-fixate on him as much as he hyperfixates on you.

But he knew that you wouldn't be able to even come close to his level of obsession towards you. And that's fine with him.

[whentommymetalfie]

Alfie proposes to Tommy with the biggest diamond ring money can buy (i’ve had a little google and discovered that Kim Kardashian’s engagement ring is 20 carat)

(Side note: I went down a bit of a rabbit hole myself, researching expensive engagement rings, to decide how the one Luca has bought for Tommy in Bird Song so this has been on my mind lately!)

ohh Alfie's going all out on that ring. He wants people to be able to see that diamond from space. Ask Tommy if it's not heavy, carrying that around. However, there's a bit of a problem. Because Alfie would also want to buy Tommy something slightly understated (but still as expensive as possible) because he thinks that's what he'd like the most. Tommy likes the finer things in life, obviously, but doesn't wear a lot of jewelry. Alfie considers his options, which are nearly unlimited. Something with diamonds, but perhaps smaller ones along the band? Possibly a slightly larger in the middle. The problem is, what really costs money is an insanely huge diamond. And Alfie can't have people thinking he WOULDN'T buy Tommy the most expensive ring possible. So it's a real conundrum. How big of a diamond can he get while still fitting Tommy's tastes?

Finally he enlists Ada for help. And she just scoffs. "Please, get him a big fuck-off diamond. He'll love it."

So, big, fuck-off diamond it is.

The solution comes in the form of a store that specializes in antique jewelry, where he finds one that's 1, very tasteful and definitely up to Tommy's standards and 2, expensive enough to pay for a small flat.

Alfie is still nervous not just about the proposal itself (which is its own, separate problem) but about the ring as well. But he needn't have worried about either. Tommy loves the ring. A bit like a magpie with shiny things, isn't he, Alfie realizes. And decides he should buy him more jewelry.

[thebluestbluewords]

five golden rings

poly ot4 because I know what I’m about. A little holiday repost.

+

Evie owns a lot of jewelry. 

What she doesn’t own, however, is the golden ring that’s sitting on the top of her jewelry box. It’s a nice ring, small and gold and with a little round blue stone set into it. 

There’s no note, but it’s a nice ring, and it goes perfectly with the glittery skirt that Evie’s had on the top of her to-be-worn pile for ages, so she slips it on her right hand. Her starstone droplet earrings match as well, and the soft sweater with the embroidery on the collar is the perfect blend of cute and cozy that she needs for the last week of school before the holidays. 

Outfit selected, Evie throws a slipper at Mal on her way to the bathroom. 

“Fuck’ff,” the blanket lump on Mal’s bed mumbles. “Too cold.” 

“Too bad!” Evie calls back. “Get your dragon butt moving or I’m going to open all the windows and let it snow on you!” 

“Mmrgh,” Mal groans, instead of answering. “Mgreeb.” 

Glitter eyeshadow is so outdated, even for the holidays. “Did you leave me a ring, babe?” Evie asks as she’s putting on her liner, and Mal is stumbling her way out of bed. “It’s cute.” 

Mal presses her face into Evie’s shoulder and mumbles something inaudible. Her hair is sticking up into two little cowlick spikes like her mother’s horns, and it’s kind of adorable. 

“Do you think I should wear the cherry red or the mahogany today?” Evie wonders, holding up the two lipsticks. “Babe?” 

“Cherry,” Mal mumbles, and leans around for a kiss. “Tastes better.” 

“Of course.” 

“And I didn’t leave the ring,” Mal adds. “It’s from Jay.” 

“It’s cute, I’ll have to tell him he has good taste for once.” Evie says, lifting up her hand to admire it. “I almost want to layer more, but it shines so well alone too.” 

Mal bonks her head into Evie’s cheek. “I would wait on layering any more,” she says, and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You never know what else might show up.” 

“Oh?” 

Another kiss. Distracting. “I just think,” Mal says, between pecks that are getting deeper each time. “That there might be,” Another kiss. “More to the present than,” a deeper kiss, lingering. “Just this one.” 

Evie puts down her lipstick and returns the favor. “You think so?” she says, almost teasing. “Sure nobody put him up to it?” 

“Gifting is about bringing joy to others,” Mal says loftily. “And if I find joy in giving other people gift ideas then it’s none of your business how that happens.” 

Evie laughs, and keeps laughing all the way through her morning routine. 

*

There’s another ring in her pencil case. Still gold, but this time with a little red stone. Square cut, and matching the blue one. Evie slips it on her finger just before she picks up her pencil for the final history lecture of the semester. 

*

A third ring, this time clipped around the ring of her chemistry binder. A diamond shaped stone, black as the night and glittering with internal crystals. 

*

The fourth ring has a pale purple stone, cut into an oval. It stacks on with the others, a little progression of bright shapes and shining gold bands up the pale skin of her finger. It comes slipped into the top of her bag just after lunch, as she’s rushing to her next class and worrying about the end-of-year quiz she’s going to have to finish out the day. 

It makes her smile, which is worth a lot more than the little piece of metal and stone’s monetary value. Worth more than a castle, the love that she has for her little family. 

Auradon has made her soft for affection, and it’s not a bad feeling. 

*

“Hey princess,” Jay says later. Evie is washed up for bed now, soft and wearing her cozy dressing gown that she made herself before they came over to the land of fairy-tale endings. “I have something for you.” 

Evie looks up at him, this wonderful boy who finds things just for her, even when they lived on an island with nothing of real value except for the people it contained. “Jaybird,” she says softly. Just for the two of them. Mal and Carlos don’t need to know that they’re being emotionally vulnerable over here. “Thank you.” 

Jay doesn't really blush, but he ducks his head.“It’s just a little thing,” he says, like an apology. “This one isn’t as nice as the others.” 

Evie stops her restless fingers from playing with the other four, which she’s still wearing, stacked up on her right ring finger like the treasure that they are. “And I’m not as nice as the other princesses,” she says. “Since when has that ever stopped us?” 

“True,” Jay says, and opens his hand for her. “Here it is. Five golden rings, delivered just for you, Princess.” 

Evie scoops up the fifth ring. It’s a plain gold band, much like the others. The stone set in this one is clear, shaped like a heart, and with a crack running through it. She slips it onto her finger, settling it right where it belongs at the top of the stack. 

She holds out her hand, and Jay scoops it up to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the stones. “Fairest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

“Charmer.” Evie shoots back. “Flattery will get you– oh!” 

Jay pulls back. “Do you want me to stop?” 

It’s so easy to pull him back in for one more kiss. “Never,” Evie whispers against his lips. “Never-ever-ever.” 

[felixschokehold]

I would love Caius headcanons for Caius x human reader! Just maybe some general headcaons for if he had a human mate! Thank you 💕

Oh, dear. First, sorry this reply is so long lmao. I have a lot of thoughts and no self control.

Well, you see, I see Caius as a very cruel, cold creature. In my mind, he's the one that really twisted the twins into the cruel being they are today. His heart is closed off to anyone he crosses paths with and does not care who he hurts.

But...

If Caius had found a human mate, there would be many hesitations in his cruel actions.

At first, I imagine he may be extra cruel to them out of fear of his own emotions. Whether this be in criticizing who they are or what they like, it's just up to his mood. But, he doesn't show physical cruelty, which is the first sign that this human is special.

Caius either recognizes immediately he's somehow 'accidentally' formed a mating bond with a human, or he doesn't recognize his emotions at first and all the kindness and softness he suddenly wants to start expressing repulses him.

Aro and Marcus, of course, know immediately and try to have one of the guard constantly assigned to the human in case Caius gets frustrated and tries to take it out on his mate. But this triggers a jealousy in Caius and in his own selfishness, he starts to keep his mate present with only him. His behavior isolates the human mate for a while until they have a mild break down over suddenly being cut off from everyone; they fear that perhaps everyone has suddenly started to dislike them, or perhaps there is something wrong with them that the other guard don't want to be around.

This causes Caius some distress and this is where I see him first beginning to actually outwardly show any softness. Perhaps it's just him offering a tissue for the human to wipe their tears away, or maybe if Caius is feeling brave, a comforting hand on their shoulder.

But, his words stay short. "That is not the reason you have not seen your friends," would be all he'd say.

Caius, feeling bad (as he should) for this, tries to push his jealousy aside and allow his human mate to be social again. And this activates something more in him; seeing his mate smile and have fun thaws his heart. Day by day, little by little, but he never shows any outward tellings of this.

Not until he can't take holding back anymore. Just one, small impulse of kindness (see also: affection) would be all it would take for his human mate to realize their feelings are requited; a small kiss on the forehead before they retire to their room to sleep, a gift of a beautiful piece of jewelry, or even Caius sending a guard out to bring back the human's favorite meal.

After that, it's history.

Caius may fight feeling human emotions but once he hits that turning point, he begins to melt like butter in a microwave.

Click below to read about my headcanons after they fall completely in love and he no longer holds back.

Caius loves to show off his mate with nice, shiny things. Which means he showers them with gifts. Dresses, rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings. Shoes; heels, sneakers, boots, you name it. Dresses and skirts and jumpsuits and coats. Anything he would like to see on his mate, or that his mate wants, they get.

Does the human mate have glasses? Welp, here's a new pair with blood diamonds imbedded in them. Ope, here's a pair made of pure gold or silver. Oh, they hate wearing glasses? Here's money for lasik.

Every single thing Caius thinks his mate could ever need will be brought into the castle, which may cause some tension. There is no need to leave, everything will be delivered right to your door, darling.

Now, while other Volturi members are around, he would likely act casual. He may hold their hand or tuck their hair behind their ears, but when they're alone, there isn't a moment where his mate isn't in his arms or his lap.

I also see him biting frequently as a show of affection. Clawing. Squeezing. Pinching.

But oh, do not get him jealous. He will attempt to have anyone he sees as a threat tossed aside. His mate has to reign him in and scold him frequently; "Stop trying to get Felix to rip Demetri to pieces and set him on fire. Demetri laughed at a joke I made, he didn't grab my ass".

Ah, the tense romance of it all. Soft, fragile human frequently scolding Caius and putting him in his place as he pretends to be the scariest, meanest monster one can ever dream of.

And he is, of course.

Just not to his mate.

<lsorry this is so long, I do not know how to write brief thoughts lmao>

[darchildre]

A Costume Piece, part 1

In which Raffles and Bunny plan to steal some purple diamonds and Bunny learns more about the art and craft of burglary.

Thing 1:

...never had I seen him so excited before. Had he been following Rosenthall's example? [ie, drinking] His coming to my rooms at midnight, merely to tell me about his dinner, was in itself enough to excuse a suspicion which was certainly at variance with my knowledge of A. J. Raffles.

Bunny. My sweet boy. There are two possibilities for why Raffles is in your rooms at midnight, both of them are criminal, and only one of them can E W Hornung write about explicitly.

(I should cut Bunny some slack here - this is only his second entry into crime qua burglary, after all.)

And Raffles leaned towards me with a sly, slow smile that made the hidden meaning of his visit only too plain to me at last.

Okay, no, I can see why Bunny is confused. He hasn't yet realized that stealing jewelry from people is one of Raffles' biggest kinks.

Thing 2: Bunny wrote an article about the jewel robbery that he himself helped commit, oh my god, amazing. I missed that detail on my last read through and now all I want is an au where Bunny becomes an established crime reporter, like Peter Parker taking pictures of Spider-man.

Thing 3:

"My dear fellow, I would rob St. Paul's Cathedral if I could, but I could no more scoop a till when the shopwalker wasn't looking than I could bag the apples out of an old woman's basket. Even that little business last month was a sordid affair, but it was necessary, and I think its strategy redeemed it to some extent. Now there's some credit, and more sport, in going where they boast they're on their guard against you. The Bank of England, for example, is the ideal crib; but that would need half a dozen of us with years to give to the job; and meanwhile Reuben Rosenthall is high enough game for you and me. We know he's armed. We know how Billy Purvis can fight.It'll be no soft thing, I grant you. But what of that, my good Bunny—what of that? A man's reach must exceed his grasp, dear boy, or what the dickens is a heaven for?" "I would rather we didn't exceed ours just yet," I answered laughing, for his spirit was irresistible, and the plan was growing upon me, despite my qualms.

A) This whole speech and the bit before it where Raffles talks about himself as an artist is adorable and I love it and I love him so much. He's so excited and so clearly deliberately being charming and showing off to appeal to Bunny and it's so cute.

B) And it works - Bunny also clearly thinks he is adorable and and charming and ridiculous. It's sad that he loses his enthusiasm as soon as Raffles leaves - Bunny would be having a lot more fun all 'round if he didn't think so much.

Thing 4:

With all his charming frankness, there was in Raffles a vein of capricious reserve which was perceptible enough to be very irritating. He had the instinctive secretiveness of the inveterate criminal.

This is going to be Bunny's chief complaint about Raffles for the rest of time. There are lots of potential reasons for it: Bunny is right and Raffles doesn't trust him fully (likely); Raffles is a control freak who needs to be in charge of all the details of their crimes (yuuup); Raffles likes impressing and surprising Bunny more than basically anything else in the world (absolute truth); etc. In the specific case wherein Raffles doesn't tell Bunny the details of how he disposed of the results of their first robbery, I wonder if there's a desire to keep Bunny away from the grubbier aspects of what they're doing, like fencing things and interacting with other criminals, so as not to scare him off (or make Raffles seem grubby through the interaction). Bunny's only along for the "fun" parts of the robbery - this may also be part of not wanting him to be part of casing Rosenthall's house, which is probably mostly quite boring. (But also the control freak thing.)

Of course, this always backfires, because Bunny doesn't know the reasons why he shouldn't involve himself. Oh my god, just have an actual conversation!

Thing 5: Disguises! Oh how I love the goofy disguises! I especially love the little detail of Raffles "he who would only smoke one brand of cigarette!" switching tobaccos for verisimilitude.

[doctorstethoscope]

Fluffy February Day 12 || Jewel

pairing: will x mackenzie

wordcount: 715

contains: slight cursing

Will had taken a lot of shit for the way he’d proposed to Mackenzie, and, well, it had worked, so he didn’t really mind. He wished it had been better, sure. He wished he’d taken more than a gasp of a moment to think about what he wanted to say, wished he had been more eloquent, that they hadn’t been at work. Mackenzie insisted that it was perfect, and she agreed with him that she didn’t want to spend another second being anything other than his, so maybe the proposal was okay. There was still one thing that didn’t sit right with him, though. 

The ring. Yes, he’d bought it with her in mind. And he even knew she loved it well before he asked her. But it was the same ring he’d used to hurt her, to cut her to the bone, not even an hour before he asked her. That part of the proposal ate at him. 

He’d offered to replace it– some might even say that he’d begged to do it, but she insisted that this was the only ring that she wanted. It was a part of their history together– a history that had often been painful, but most importantly, was behind them, and had brought them the happiness that they had now. So she wouldn’t take the ring off, not for a second, and she certainly wouldn’t let Will replace it. 

However, as Mackenzie’s fiance (a phrase he never seemed to grow tired of saying), he was well within his right to buy her whatever jewelry he saw fit. The “seeing fit” part proved to be the hardest– everything he saw would look lovely on her, and simultaneously none of it was just right. 

“Mack, come to my office for a sec?” Will asked after the final rundown meeting, half an hour before they were set to go live. 

She follows him wordlessly, shutting the door behind her once they get to his office. “It’s too late to change any of the scripts so please don’t—” 

“The scripts are just fine, dear,” he tells her, reaching into his desk drawer. 

“Oh,” she says, surprised. “Okay, what should we bicker about then?” She teases. 

“No bickering tonight,” he insists. “I know we’ve talked your engagement ring to death,” he starts, and she cuts him off, as she often does. 

“It’s mine, and I love it, Will. You can’t take it back.” 

“And I’m not trying to,” he promises. “You like the ring because it represents our history, and you’ve made your peace with our history more easily than I have. Which, doesn’t really make sense, since you should be angry with me until the end of time—”

“Billy!” She interjects. 

‘You should be, but you aren’t, which I appreciate. You have the ring because it reminds you of our history… so I wanted you to have something to remind you of our future, too,” he says, sliding a little blue box across his desk and towards her. 

“Billy, you didn’t have to—”

“I plan to spoil you for the rest of our lives, so please start to embrace the horror now,” he cuts her off. 

She smiles up at him as she tugs at the ribbon, and Will feels the familiar sunshine-like warmth pass through his chest at the sight of her. She opens up the box and lets out a tender little sigh. 

“Oh, honey, it’s beautiful,” she says, looking over the platinum ruby and diamond bracelet he ended up having custom-made. Nothing in the case had been exactly right, after all. 

“It’s uh, it’s my birthstone.” He explains, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed by the gesture. “Maybe a little possessive of me. But it’s my reminder that you’re stuck with me for good, now.” 

“You big sap,” she laughs, her eyes welled up with happy tears. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles goodnaturedly. 

“Help me with it?” She requests, extending the box and her wrist towards him. He takes them both, gently, working the clasp gently into the chain before bringing her wrist towards him and placing his lips on her pulse point. She closes her eyes for a moment,  reveling in the feeling. 

“Thank you Billy. I love it, and I love you.” 

“Just remember. All mine, forever and ever.”

tagging: @spacecowboyhotch @honeybrowne @angelfxllcm @rousethemouse @infinite-tides @gspenc @anlin2058 @zetasaturno99 @realdirectionx @witheldclouds @sbeno22 @el-vs94 @hausofwhores

[allnightbatman]

Batman x Reader

Warnings: some angst? SMUT 18+ ONLY

Hey y’all! I literally have not been on this app in quiet some time and have not posted anything in a long time! But don’t get me wrong I still love it and the people here! I’ve been writing a lot recently and thought I’d finally just share them with y’all. If anyone reads this please let me know what you think and if you have any ideas you think I could write please feel free to send them! Much love and thank you, thank you!

(Btw this can be any version of Batman your little heart desires! 😉)

Word Count: 4599

Putting on makeup, you were getting ready for yet another charity gala being hosted here at the manor. You decided you were going to enjoy yourself for a change, put yourself out there and see what comes your way. Wanting Bruce but the inability to have him was a painful thing, all you were trying to accomplish tonight was to fill that gap, although you knew in the back of your mind it would only be temporary.

Stepping out in a black dress showing off your figure, you wore your best jewelry, pearls and diamonds, you felt so confident finally out of uniform. The people were looking at you in awe, it seemed as though you could've chosen anyone you wanted yet you didn’t. Gracefully walking across the room aiming towards the bar as you tried to push back the thought of Bruce. You secretly hoped he would notice you tonight or see you with someone else and realize what he’s been missing. Ordering a drink, you used it as an aid in numbing the heart ache, that pain tightening up in your chest was becoming almost unbearable.

Starting to loosen up a bit you were oblivious to Bruce’s watchful eye he had fixed on you.

Turning around on the bar stool to scan the crowd of conversing people, you hoped someone would grab your attention but being far too picky, you thought of no one being even close to comparable to Bruce. Signing you slumped back into the chair and signaled for the bartender. You thanked the bartender for the second drink and as you were about to scold yourself for thinking about Bruce yet again, a man came up next to you ordering a drink, sipping on it as he leaned on the bar.

He broke the silence. “Someone so pretty shouldn’t look so down and out.”

You looked up from your drink towards him soaking in his features. He had a strong face yet softened with his slicked back light brown hair and green eyes, his built, being a fairly strong tall frame. You were surprised you missed such a good looking individual when searching the crowd, perhaps your vision was greatly fogged with your thoughts.

You responded wittily “Well, I guess I’ve just been waiting for someone to brighten up my mood, think ya’ can do that for me?” giving a playful smile.

He smiled back, “I think so..” replying in a deep under the breath tone, and you definitely didn’t miss the mysterious sparkle in his eye.

“Name’s Ethan, and yours may be?”

Kindly replying and giving him your hand, “Y\N, nice to meet you.”

From afar Bruce continued watching, you and Ethan slowly getting closer to each other, your smile getting bigger, the light glistening in your eyes, and his hand getting inches closer up your leg. He wanted to go and break the two of you apart, show you how you should only be with him, how you should be properly treated. Deep within him he was furious yet saddened at the same time though he appeared natural, not allowing his emotions to show.

Ethan invited you for a dance and you happily obliged, it was a wonderful feeling getting attention from a relativley attractive man especially one who could keep a conversation. He held you close to him, dancing smoothly, his hand pressed against your lower back then it’s position going lower. The song coming to an end, it faded as he led you out to a balcony, pulling you back into him then cupping your face, he leaned forward and kissed you. He took you by surprise, it being forever since you last had a kiss yet you gave into him, hooking your arms up and around his neck, kissing back. Gripping you tighter, your chest fully pressed against him, you felt his tongue enter your mouth and his hands move down to your ass, making you moan. Being so immersed with each other, you both didn’t hear someone else enter the balcony.

“Y/N.” Bruce’s strong voice caught your ear, you immediately broke away from the kiss. You made space between you and Ethan, looking down at your sparkly heels, not being able to look Bruce in the eyes.

Sternly announcing, “The gala is ending soon, our guests will be doing a final speech if you care to join.”

“Oh okay I will, thank you Bruce.” You politely forced out looking at him through your lashes.

Bruce gave a glare to Ethan, which he took no offense by, then went back inside.

Ethan stepped back to being close to you, hooking an arm around your waist, “Hmmm, since the gala is ending soon how bout you say we get out of here already?” A charming suggestion, almost as equally charming as the smile he gave you.

You felt tempted but you were also full of embarrassment of Bruce catching you in that position with another man. You wanted to fall on your knees and beg for forgiveness to him but for what? You two aren’t involved in any sort of romantic relationship, but you also felt you shouldn’t have betrayed your heart, should have waited for the man you love, but how long would you have to be waiting?

“I’m sorry, I should probably get back instead like Bruce said, I’m sorry.” giving him a sad look then directing your eyes down again, immediately replaying what you had let slip out your lips, ‘..like Bruce said..’ as if he was your keeper!

“Hey don’t look so sad I get it, appearances, obligations.” Gently grabbing your chin and planting a small peck. “I’ll give you my number, maybe we could have a night just to ourselves.”

You felt bad possibly giving this man false hope, but maybe once you got over your sad emotions you would call him.

Parting ways with Ethan you stepped back inside finishing the night and giving your farewells to the guests. Alfred offered to make you some nightly tea and help prepare your room for bed once noticing your downturned mood, but you politely declined and insisted you would be okay. Getting into the shower, using the hot water to melt away the stress of the night, you got into bed under your heavy blankets falling into the peaceful darkness of sleep.

Cuddling up to your blankets the heavy morning rain had already started, hitting against your window, the strong winds making the air even colder. Bruce still went along with his usual schedule, doing his daily CEO affairs and after last night you decided not to accompany him to Wayne Tower. You just stayed home keeping busy, waiting for night to come.

All day Bruce couldn’t stop thinking about you, he was easily capable of pushing those thoughts down and forget about them, but seeing you with another man itched at him in a way he’s never felt before. He wanted you, wanted your body pressed against his, your lips on his. He wanted to show you all of him, all his different sides, and wanted to see yours. He kept wondering what you were doing each moment, what were you thinking about, if you were still thinking about that man, if you decided not to go to Wayne Tower today so you could go see him instead. All the insecurities started to rise up, he wished he didn’t love and want you, it would make things much easier.

Coming home Alfred greeted him and described the dinner he prepared for him and the boys.

“Will Y\N be joining us for dinner?” Bruce asked, not being very discreet.

“Yes Master Bruce, she’s already seated with Master Dick, while the rest are still prancing around making a mess.” Alfred added, giving Bruce a look knowing the reason he was asking about you specifically.

Walking to the dinner table, Jason, Tim, and Damian immediately straightened up greeting their father and settling down at the table. Halting your conversation with Dick, Bruce greeted the both of you, you gave him a small almost shameful smile.

It felt good sitting down all together, a united family, conversation and laughter flowing, blessed with a meal a wonderful man prepared with love for you all. The stressful conflict of your emotions was completely forgotten, enjoying the unique personalities in your presence, the endless witty behavior, you even talked with Bruce a bit.

After dinner all the boys headed down to the bat cave preparing for the night, you stayed behind to help Alfred with the cleaning.

Alfred broke the silence between you, “You should tell him Y\N because for bloody’s sake that boy will never allow himself.”

Knowing you have been caught about your true feelings, you continued to play dumb, “Tell him about what?”

“Seems you are the same way as well.” Alfred huffed out putting away the silverware.

Now heading to the bat cave, your thoughts lingered, if Alfred knew, did Bruce notice? Did the boys notice? Never allow himself? Did that mean there’s a chance Bruce felt the same way about you?

Entering the cold batcave, hearing the loud rain outside still pouring, you noticed the boys already left for patrol. Bruce was sitting in front of the bat computer in his suit though his cowl was off. You weren’t sure if you should say something or prepare to leave as well. Having to get your utility belt from the table beside him you slowly walk to it, tense and trying to normalize your breathing. Opening one of the pockets checking if the batarang was still in there, you pull it out examining it.

It was a smaller batarang than the ones Bruce uses now, he used it on you when you first met him, he didn’t want to hurt you just to get your attention. You remember pricking it off the wall, feeling how sharp it was you placed it in your back pocket and kept it forever since then. It was a reminder of the person you admire the most, the person you strive to be, and still how lucky you were to be a part of his life.

“Remember this Bruce?” The batarang between your fingers holding it out towards him.

“I do, glad I made them bigger, much more effective.” Giving it a look, you a quick glance, then back to the computer.

“Then this must be a collectible now.” Laughing at yourself, still staring at it in your hands.

“You know yesterday at the gala I didn’t see much of you, did you escape to an emergency without me?“ Trying to joke and possibly break the ice about getting caught that night.

“I’m sure everyone saw much of you, that was quite a show behaving that way.” He replied coldly, not even looking your way.

You were dumbfounded, not expecting such an answer, it left you speechless. Immediately washed with guilt, the fact that’s how he portrayed your behavior, that you would just throw yourself at any man, that’s not how you wanted him to see you, you didn’t want anyone else but him. But your saddened state was short lived, turning into anger, who was he to judge you solely on that night, although he’s not that person but people see him as a playboy, and he definitely has no right to be dictating you on what not and what to do.

“Behaving in what way? How is that putting on a show? Am I not allowed to enjoy an evening in any manner I please after busting my ass off for you every night. I don’t know where that attitude is coming from but you have no right t-to even talk let alone judge me, you’re just..ugh!” Throwing your arms up, rambling off towards the end, your emotions creating hot tears to well up, you fled leaving Bruce alone to reflect.

Angry tears falling down your face and your heightened state of emotion you felt you couldn’t breathe, air getting choked up in your chest. Sitting on top of the cold, wet concrete of the clock tower feeling safe enough there, you let the rain drench your hair, cradling your knees to your chest. Pathetically whimpering, you felt numb, you didn’t know how you were going to get over this, you don't like conflict, you simply wished things were back to normal with Bruce.

“Y\N.” Bruce startled you, immediately reacting you jumped right up but upon seeing it was just him you sat back down.

“What do you want?” You quietly let out, sniffling up your cries.

“You shouldn’t be out here like this, it’s not safe, you should go back home.” You hear Bruce’s heavy boots step closer to you.

“Oh now you care about me, the only reason I’m out here like this is because of you!” You spat out to him, not even caring to look at him.

Bruce sat down close next to you. “I’ve always cared about you Y\N a-and I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I didn’t mean it, I hope you can forgive me.”

You were again surprised by his words, this was Bruce being vulnerable, he even stuttered, he was always so smoothed with his words. He was looking at you, he hated that he was the reason you were out here all alone crying. Seeing your downturned eyes looking out into the city, sparkling with all the lights, he hoped you heard him, that you could find it in your heart to forgive him.

“Come on, let’s go back home.” Bruce said standing up, looking down at you waiting for you to get up as well. Noticing you weren't going to move from your position he put a hand out for you. Plainly looking at it, you placed your hand weakly onto his letting him pull you up.

He wrapped your arms around his neck and put his arm around your waist pulling you against him “Hold onto me tight.”

He pulled out his grapple gun and you both went up, you wrapped your legs around him squeezing so tightly. His cape protected you from the seemingly everlasting rain and upon feeling the cold air sting your cheeks you hid your face into his chest.

Falling asleep curled up in the passenger seat of the batmobile, you were awakened when Bruce picked you up taking you back to your room putting you down in your warm bed. He shook you a bit trying to fully wake you up.

“Y\N, you can’t go to sleep in wet clothes.” Groaning you twisted, slowly opening your eyes you look at the bat symbol on his chest. “Did you hear me?” You nodded. “I’ll go start the shower.”

Bruce got up pulling off his cape and cowl before entering the bathroom, you heard him start the water. Coming back out, you stood up getting a change of clothes and going into the bathroom.

Before closing the door “Bruce?”

Quickly turning around to look at you “Yes Y\N?“

“Please don’t leave me Bruce, wait for me?” A bit of desperation in your voice.

“I’ll be right here when you get out, it's okay don’t worry, relax with the hot shower.” He reassured you, though he was flustered by your request.

The hot water pierced your cold skin instantly warming you up, you stood under it letting it run down your body. You rush, washing your body and hair, wanting to just lay down and rest. Once dried and dressed, you stepped out to your room, Bruce was sitting on your bed looking down at his hands. He was out of his bat suit and into pajamas, his hair a bit disheveled, it made you content to see he came back and looking normal.

“You okay?” Bruce looked up at you. “I’m doing better, thank you Bruce.” You gave him a small smile, rubbing your arm feeling as though you might have overreacted earlier.

Standing up from the bed “Again Y/N I’m sorry for what I said, I don’t want you to believe I think of you that way, I understand you can do as you please because-“ “It’s okay Bruce really, no need to further apologize, we’re okay, okay?” You interjected his out of character apologetic rambling.

“Okay Y/N.” He gave you a sad smile. “I’ll let you get some rest, we’ll start up again tomorrow.”

He started for the door, “Bruce?”

Quickly stopping “Yes Y/N?”

“Do you think you c-could stay with me tonight?” You asked softly fiddling with your fingers, looking every other direction but his eyes.

“Okay Y/N.” You just made him melt.

He sat down on a sofa chair placed next to your bed, “Did you want me to put something on the TV?”

Jumping into bed excitedly “Okay I know it sounds silly but can we watch a nature documentary?”

Chuckling at you a lil “Sure, whatever you want.”

Watching the TV under the warmth of your blankets and Bruce by your side, you felt at peace, your eyelids starting to feel heavy. Looking over to Bruce he had his arms crossed over his chest and his head starting to hang. “Bruce, come into bed with me, you must be cold over there.” You don’t know where the extremely unfiltered comment came from, could be letting loose from the sleepiness or the need to have him becoming unbearable to keep hidden.

“Y\N…” “Bruce please.” He wanted you too, wanted to hold you, forever keep you safe, but he also was afraid. Opening up the blankets for him, he couldn’t control himself, he reluctantly slid in bed right next to you.

You could feel how tense he was, and how he tensed up even more when you scooted closer to him. “It’s okay Bruce, you don’t need to be nervous.” You lightly placed your hand on his chest but he immediately grabbed it, squeezing it. Taking that as a sign of taking it too far, “I’m sorry, y-you can go if you want…” Trying to retract your hand, he still held onto it, placing it on his fastly beating heart. He turned to lay on his side, you did the same, looking into each other’s eyes while you felt his heart pump against his chest. You grabbed his hand doing the same, yet your heart was calm, you felt safe with him and you wanted him to feel the same.

You felt his heart relax then his body, he wrapped his arms around you pulling you into him lovingly. You were so infatuated with this man, you didn’t ever want him to let you go, you wished to stay forever with him like this. Having your face in the crook of his neck you started to gently kiss it, throwing your leg over his hip, you wanted to have him all to yourself tonight.

“Y\N…” Bruce whined, his hands moving to and gripping your hips.

“I want to show you how much I care about you Bruce.” You licked his neck,

“We don’t have to do this, we can wait.” You felt so confident having this powerful man weak under your touch, feeling him melt with the slightest affection you showed him.

“I can’t wait any longer Bruce, I need you.”

As if those were the magic words, he kissed you so sweetly, so gently, his lips felt so soft, perfect against yours, like they were meant for you. Moaning into the kiss the passion between you two was ecstatic, gripping each other for dear life, you immediately felt the wetness pool between your legs. Breathing heavily it became too much you but Bruce continued to kiss your neck, getting on top of you, tugging at the bottom of your shirt which you happily helped him take off.

“Tell me if it's too much Y\N please.”

“No Bruce, I want all of you.” Caressing his face looking into his blue eyes full of nothing but love, you kissed him once more. Pushing your tongue to his lips he gladly accepted it into his mouth, massaging his onto yours, moaning into each other’s mouth nonstop.

Pulling away from you, saliva being the only thing connecting you two till it broke dripping down, Bruce pulled off your bottoms then stood up to take his clothes off as well. He was already so hard, his member standing up all on its own, you wanted to worship it, lick it all up, have it down your throat. You crawled off the bed to be on your knees in front of him, he looked down at you as you took him into your hands, slowly pumping him.

He rubbed your cheek with his hand but when you were about to position your mouth onto him, he interjected.

“No, not tonight, I want to show you how you should be treated.” He wanted to worship you tonight, make you feel like no other man has ever done before, he wanted to make you his. His words made you melt, made you feel so loved, every little thing he did made you fall more in love with him.

Helping you onto bed, you felt the excitement bubble up in your chest, Bruce looked marvelous, his physique unreal, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

“God you’re so beautiful Y\N, you don’t know how many times in a day I think that.” He made you blush so much, instinctively covering your face with your hands, Bruce carefully grabbed them,

“No baby, don't hide from me, I wanna see your face.” He engulfed your hands with his larger ones holding onto them, the dim light of the moon shining onto his face, you couldn't look away staring deeply into his eyes, you felt as though you were in heaven.

You spread your legs to be on the sides of his waist nudging him to come closer. He let go of one of your hands, grabbing his member to massage your clit, feeling how wet you were for him, it made you shudder, feeling so sensitive. He lined himself up to you, gently rubbing you.

“Let me know if it’s too much or if I need to go slower, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You could see the worry in his eyes.

“You could never hurt me Bruce.” Reassuring him you squeezed his hand that was still connected to yours, you brought it to your lips kissing his rough knuckles.

Slowly connecting himself with your most precious part, he leaned over, pinning your hands above your head. He kissed you letting you adjust, your walls were gripping onto him so tightly, your warmth almost making it hard for Bruce to control himself.

“Bruce please move.” You whined against his lips, moving your hips against his simply begging him. He pulled out of you keeping his tip still inside then slowly pushing back into you, you both gripped each other’s hands tighter loving the feeling of each other. He stretched you out so sweetly, pushing into you your warm soft walls engulfing him, gripping as if they were begging him to never leave.

Going at a pace that felt good for both of you, you couldn’t stop moaning his name, it made him feel almost primal knowing he was the one making you feel this way. Your heated bodies connecting over and over again, your moans and his groans, the heavy breathing, the bed quietly creaking, the rain still outside, those were the sounds filling the room, further aiding in your enticeness, you felt as though you were dreaming, it all too good to be true.

He cradled your head putting it on his shoulder dropping his entire weight on you, you continued to whine in pure pleasure, your legs starting to slightly shake, loosening from around him

“You’re okay baby, let me make you feel so good.” Kissing your forehead tenderly, as he hit the perfect spot deep inside you over and over again.

“That’s it baby, you're doing so good.” His words just made you lose all control. You became limp but his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you together as his hips grinded against yours.

You could feel the knot in your stomach starting to tighten up.

“Bruce please I’m so close, don't stop please Bruce.” You pleaded breathlessly, hiding your face in his shoulder, although upon saying that he sat up hooking the back of your knees pushing them up against your sides. It felt as though he knew your body so well, he knew exactly every right thing to do to you. Making your breast bounce he gripped your legs so tightly he was going to leave bruises.

You felt him stagger, knowing he was close too.

“Keep going Bruce, I want you to cum inside me just like that, god you feel so good.”

Your beauty, your words, how good you felt around him, your pulsating walls.

“I want you to cum for me beautiful, don’t hold back.” You were put over the edge, the knot in your stomach exploding, your legs shaking uncontrollable in his arms yet he was still thrusting, riding you out and getting close to his high. You felt his warm thick liquid fill you up giving you both a euphoric satisfaction.

Falling on top of you, you traced your fingers on his back, trying to slow down your fastly beating heart, something Bruce could undoubtedly feel against your chest. Thinking he was squishing you, he rolled off of you, removing his still inserted member that was keeping the reminisce of the love making inside you. Freed, you got up from bed heading to release the urge to use the restroom. As Bruce stayed in bed he felt a satisfaction upon seeing your small struggle, your freshly weakened legs limping to walk to the bathroom.

“You okay?” Bruce questioned as you slipped back into bed, his arms instantly wrapping you up in a warm embrace.

Cuddling back, curling up as close as possible to him, you simply smiled against his chest, giving a content sigh.

As a composed man who rarely smiles, the grin on his face was hard to wash away, the feeling unnatural yet not protesting it as he was with you. Bruce pulled a blanket over the two of you, you felt your body getting heavy, tiredness taking over.

You whispered a filtered confession, “I adore you Bruce.” your hand reaching towards his face, caressing it lovingly.

Bruce took an unexpected leap, “Y\N, I love you, I always have.”

Reaching his lips with yours, you kissed him deeply. “I always have too Bruce.”

The nostalgic sadness of all the nights of wanting him, the deep longing for him, it filled your eyes and Bruce saw that as he looked into them. You both knew the waiting was over, the hiding was over, the deepest desires of your hearts that were kept locked away for far too long, they were able to finally be let loose, giving all your love to one another in full.