#i do not know when the first round will actually start | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miizuzu · 18 hours ago

Text

Once upon a dream

“I think I should start looking for a boyfriend.” Satoru spat out his vanilla flavored milkshake as he listened in from a bug he planted in your jacket. “Gross, Gojo.” Nanami glares at Satoru then turns away. Satoru got up quickly and ran outside.

You were on your lunch break and were eating outside your workplace with Yuki, your friend/co-worker. Yuki raised one of her brows and questions. “Why the sudden change of heart?” You really couldn't tell her it is because of all the lewd dreams you have been having, you thought it was your brain telling you it was time to start planning for a relationship. “Umm… you know, I'm not getting any younger. Maybe it's time to meet new people.” That was the only excuse you could think of.

Satoru nervously bites his thumb while he listens in. He knows the exact reason why you wanted to look for someone, HE was the cause after all. He's been waiting for the perfect moment to finally ‘meet’ you, guess he has to accelerate his plans.

Satoru pops his head back into the office and tells Nanami he will go out and do his rounds, Nanami stood up and decided he would go together, which Satoru didn't expect but agreed anyway.

Satoru's office was actually pretty close to where you work, so he decided to walk that way and hopefully, maybe some miracle would happen where he would be able to talk to you. He must have done something to favor the gods, since the perfect opportunity came as he finally saw you.

Yuki wanted to have one last smoke before break ends and had gone back inside because she left her lighter in the locker. Some shady looking guy was hiding in the shadows and jumped out to grab your bag once he saw you alone. Satoru and Nanami both knew what he was up to and ran towards you.

The thug pulled your bag away from you, knocking you down while he tried to escape. Nanami went to you and tried to help you up while Satoru ran after the thief. You were too shocked to process what had just happened, Nanami stayed with you as Satoru catches the thief and walks back towards you.

Satoru was shocked when he saw the way you were looking at Nanami, your cheeks were bright pink and you nervously looked away while trying to sneak peaks of him. Satoru thought to himself, ‘I should have been the one she’s admiring, I caught the thief!’

“Miss, are you alright?” Nanami asks gently, and all you could do was nod your head. Satoru pushes the thief towards Nanami as he hands you back your bag. “Would you like to check if there's anything missing?” Satoru smiles at you, catching your attention as you stare at his eyes.

“Beautiful…” you gasp as you realize you said that out loud. Satoru had a confident smirk on his face. “Thanks, but we really need you to check if there is anything missing.” You bashfully grabbed your bag from Satoru and looked through your things. “Everything is here. Thank you officers.”

“If it is not too much trouble, could I please ask you to follow us back to the station to file a report?” Satoru asks, mainly trying to find an opportunity to ‘finally learn your name from you’. “I'm actually just on my lunch break, I have to go back to work.” You were shaking from all that just happened and Satoru saw it. “I'm sure your employer would understand and let you take an early leave, I'll even go with you.” Satoru suggests.

“While you two do that, I will take him back to the station first.” Nanami told Satoru as he started heading towards the police station. “Umm, excuse me! Do you mind… if I ask you for your name?” You shyly peaked at Nanami. “Nanami Kento.” He replied with a smile as he turned and walked away.

You were still in your little zoned out state as Satoru jealously watches your eyes follow Nanami. “Should we head inside?” Satoru snaps you back to reality. “Umm, yes. Sorry about that. Thank you for all your help.” You politely bow at him. “My name is Satoru Gojo, do you mind telling me yours?” He playfully tilts his head to the side. “My name is Y/N L/N, sorry, I'm still feeling a little shaken up from what just happened.”

Satoru was glad he finally became acquainted with you, but now he has a problem. You are clearly interested in Nanami and he needs to make sure this doesn't develop into something more.

Satoru went with you to explain what just happened to your employer and they gave you the rest of the day off. Satoru walked with you to the police station and filed a report. He offered to take you home as well since you might be scared to be alone, which he was right.

You didn't want to bother Satoru and was about to turn down his offer when he told you that he was actually getting off and really wanted to see you get home safely. You finally agreed and waited as he changed out of his uniform before he took you home.

The two of you walk side by side, Satoru has his hands in his pocket, while you secretly sneak side peaks at him. You were so preoccupied with Nanami earlier that you didn't realize Satoru, he's tall and is in great shape, he's handsome and you can't help but think he has the most beautiful eyes. You also couldn't shake the feeling that you've seen him before but can't remember from where, you just find him really familiar.

Satoru realized you were looking and smiled to himself again, he wanted to take up all of your thoughts, make you think of only him, him, him.

The two of you chatted a bit more while waiting for the bus and you told Satoru a little more about yourself, how you live alone and don't have too many friends, which Satoru already knows about but acts like he just found out. When the bus finally arrived, it was almost at full capacity, which was in Satoru's favor.

People were pushing and shoving around, and he got the perfect opportunity to be close to you. He got you safely caged between his arms while providing you enough personal space, he would occasionally get shoved towards you and his body would ‘accidentally’ press against yours, making you flushed.

You suddenly remember your dreams when Satoru was shoved against you once more, his tone chest was pushed right against your burning cheeks, you couldn't help but bring your hands up and tried to gently push him back. Your finger accidentally brushes against his nipple and he lets out a quiet moan only you were able to hear. Your eyes widened and shot up to his face, your hand gripping tightly on his shirt in front of his chest, Satoru was blushing and tried to hide his face with one of his hands and you thought he was the cutest thing.

You should really apologize but when you opened your mouth, wanting to say sorry, the word “Cute” came out instead. Satoru now staring down at you with widened eyes, he wants to be ‘cool’ or ‘hot’ in front of you, not ‘cute’. He slightly pouted and you just couldn't help but want to see more of his face.

You didn't know what overcame your thoughts, you forgot where you are, or that this is the first time you've met Satoru, he feels so familiar to you that it just felt right. You moved your hand over his chest again, brushing over his now hardened nipple as he twitched from your touch. You kept playing with his nipple while your ear still pressed on his chest, listening to his quicken heart beats, even bringing up your other hand to play with the other side. Satoru was trying to act normal but you could tell his breathing has become irregular, he is taking breaths through his mouth, trying not to let another moan slip.

As much as Satoru liked the way you were playing with him, he noticed it was getting close to your stop. He noticed one of your hands was slowly traveling down, feeling his toned abs as it got lower and lower.

Satoru grabs your wrist, which finally snaps you out of your trance. You instantly became bright red, unsure what took over you, just as you were about to say something, Satoru whispers in your ear first. “Didn’t think you were this brave to do this on the bus to someone you've just met. We have been on the bus for a while, did we miss your stop?” Satoru knows the stop is up ahead and wants to make sure you don't miss it.

Finally aware of your surroundings, you noticed you would be getting off at the next stop. “It’s the next stop… Please forgive me! I'm usually not like this.” You were so embarrassed you couldn't look at him in the face. Satoru just let out a smile and didn't say anything else.

Finally getting off the bus, you speed ahead as Satoru catches up to you easily with his long legs. When arriving at your house, you quickly turned around and bowed at a 90 degree angle, apologizing for what you did to him on the bus, hoping he wouldn't arrest you for sexual harassment.

“Is it ok with you… if I come see you again?” Satoru shyly pouts as he asks you the question, while avoiding eye contact. You blushed again but nodded your head. “Can I get your phone number? It's rude to just show up unannounced.” Satoru tries to make up a reason for him to officially get your number, even though he already had it memorized a long time ago. “Sure Mr. Gojo.” You shyly take his phone and enter your contact info. “Please, just call me Satoru.” His smile was so bright it could put the sun to shame.

“Well then, Satoru, see you around.” You said your goodbyes and rushed inside. You were still trying to process what got over you earlier when Satoru texts you.

‘It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I really hope we get to see each other again soon.’

You clutched your phone close to your chest, trying to calm yourself down. You ran to your sofa and layed on your back, staring at your phone contact. You vaguely remember meeting someone with white hair like his, you thought it would just be a crazy coincidence and it was just someone who looked like him. He does, however, make you think about all the wet dreams you've been having. The male figure seems similar to Satoru's frame and you just love the way he moaned when you touched him. You still couldn't figure out how you had the courage to do what you did, it felt natural, like your body had been trained.

You shook off the idea and decided to take a shower and cool your head. You ate your dinner shortly after and headed to bed. You finally decided to reply to Satoru's text.

You: ‘It was really nice meeting you too. Thank you for everything you did today, hope you have a great night.’

Satoru: ‘Would you mind if we get lunch together tmr? 👉👈’

You: ‘my lunch break is pretty short, I usually just pick up something small in the morning and call it. If you don't mind, I could pick up extra and we could eat together?’

Satoru: ‘That sounds fantastic!! I'll see you tomorrow. Let me know when I should head over. Good night Y/N hope you have a sweet dream.’

You: ‘thanks, you too. Good night Satoru.”

You put your phone to the side and turned and faced your pillow and let out a happy scream. Just as you thought you would like to find someone to start a relationship with, Satoru magically appears in front of you, not to mention he's super good looking and fit. You pretty much had forgotten all about Nanami and your head was just filled with Satoru.

You fell asleep shortly from being overexcited, you had another dream but this time it's more tame. The male figure has been replaced with Satoru, the 2 of you were just going out on dates and having a great time.

Little did you know Satoru was in your house again watching you sleep. He was about to lose it when he heard you giggling in your sleep then proceeded to call out his name. It took everything in him to not just wake you up and have his way with you. He knew you would never forgive him if he did, so he just kissed you and left for the night.

The lunch date went as planned, your co-workers all gathered around you after lunch, they all wanted you to fill them in for how you managed to score a hot guy like Satoru. Choso was avoiding you and Yuki felt sorry for him, knowing he had the biggest crush on you but you were just too oblivious.

Satoru would meet you daily and have lunch with you. After a week of lunch dates he finally asked you if you could be his girlfriend which you quickly said yes.

You asked Yuki to shop with you on your next day off, you wanted to upgrade your wardrobe but not sure what you should get. Yuki brought you to a lingerie store and said now that you have a boyfriend, those might come in handy. Satoru secretly wants to thank Yuki for that.

You were checking the lingerie sets and one particular set caught your eyes. It was a pretty white lace set with a couple of cute baby blue ribbons. You bought it along with a few that Yuki chose for you.

Satoru was excited since he only heard your conversation with Yuki and didn't actually follow you this time, even though he left the bug on you so he could always hear what you're up to. It’s not that he doesn't trust you, he worries that the other guys would try to make a move on you and steal you away.

When you got home, Satoru called you and told you he made plans for a dinner date at a fancy restaurant and would pick you up after work. Just as you start to panic about what you should wear, your doorbell rings. Satoru had ordered you an outfit to wear for your dinner.

The outfit was a 2 piece set, the top was a white turtleneck with a baby blue scarf like material around the neck and the bottom was a long skirt with the same blue that matched the scarf. You were happy with the outfit, it was something similar to what you normally would wear but looks a bit better.

You wore your lingerie and outfit to work that day, your male co-workers couldn't keep their eyes off you. Choso straight out started nose bleeding when he saw you. Your outfit was no were close to revealing, but the material was hanging on your body just right, the little scarf around your neck looks like a ribbon of a present, which they all want to unwrap.

You helped Choso clean up and he found out about the reason for the outfit you were all dressed up for today. Choso felt a ping of jealousy, he thought to himself ‘if your outfit got ruined, would you still go on your date?’ he quickly shook the idea out of his mind, he knew you would be upset if that happened. He just secretly wished you would notice his feelings for you.

Satoru shows up in his car to pick you up after work, along with a bunch of white and blue roses. Making all your female co-workers envy you as you got in his car.

“You look really pretty in that outfit.” Satoru checks you out up and down. “Thank you for picking it out for me, I loved it.” You leaned over and placed a quick peck on his cheeks. Satoru wanted to push your seat down and do you right there, but he held back.

You arrived at the restaurant, it was in a tall building overlooking the city below. You look around and find there was no one else around when Satoru told you he reserved the whole restaurant for just the 2 of you. You slightly pouted and told him to stop wasting his money like this, and that you would be happy even if he had brought you to McDonalds.

The food started coming and you had forgotten about everything else. Everything tasted so good you thought you could really get used to this.

After dinner Satoru was driving you home, testing waters by placing his hand between your thighs while his fingers intertwined with yours. You didn't stop him, only stared out the window as your cheeks become red, making him hum in satisfaction.

Satoru helped you with bringing the roses into your house. And as he stood at the doorway about to leave, you stood in front of him. “Thank you for the fantastic night Satoru.” You looked into his eyes with desire, making his Adam apple bobbed from your intense stare. “If you stare at me like that, it makes me not want to leave.” Satoru looks at you with darkened eyes, placing his hand on your cheek and brushing your lower lip with his thumb. “Then sta-” his lips had instantly captured yours, not even letting you finish.

He picked you up in one arm while he took his shoes off again, his lips not leaving yours even for a second. You told him the direction to your room, which he had already been a thousand times without you knowing.

He laid you down on the bed admiring your beauty for a second as you stared at him with wanting eyes. He pulls on the end of the scarf, undoing the ribbon and slowly lifts your top up and removes it. His breath was caught in his throat when he saw the pretty white lace with the cute blue ribbons. “You're gonna be the death of me.” Satoru leans back in for another kiss as his hands quickly work on removing your skirt too.

He took another moment to look at you with just your lingerie, his stare so intense which made you move your arms unintentionally to hide yourself. “No, no, no, no sweetheart, don't hide them from me.” Satoru tries to soothe you. “It's not fair if you only get to see…” you shyly pouts at Satoru.

“You should help me get undressed then.” Satoru smirks at you, bringing your hands to the buttons on his shirt. Your fingers are now working on unbuttoning his shirt as he quickly undo his belt. He takes off his shirt and slides his pants off, you were just staring at him in awe. He looks so beautiful it almost felt unreal, when your hands finally touched him, it almost felt like you've always known him, even if this was the first time.

“Satoru… I've never done this before, but somehow everything feels so natural. Am I a pervert…?” You covered your face with your hands, feeling so embarrassed for how you feel no restraint even though it was your first time.

Satoru looks at you with gentle eyes, grabbing your wrist to move your hands away from your face. “It feels this way because you already know me.” You looked confused for a moment, “When?” You questioned him. “Once upon a dream.” You couldn't help but laugh at his cheesy line, once your laughter subsided, you stared into his eyes. “Are you here to make my dreams come true?” Satoru leans in and kisses your forehead, “I would do anything for you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a longing kiss. Satoru's tongue and yours dance in harmony as his hands wander on your body. He finally removes your bra, licking and kissing down your jaw and neck before reaching your breasts.

Your cute little moans were driving him crazy, he would buck his hips on your mattress while laying between your legs as he took a big mouthful of your tits one at a time.

You wanted to pleasure him too, and with a sudden surge of power you were able to push him over. Satoru was shocked as he laid on his back, eyes widened as he looked at you. You moved between his legs and slowly tugged at his boxers. He lifted himself high enough for you to pull it down as his hardened cock springs and smacked again his lower abdomen.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of his cock. You've never seen one up close before, you swallow your saliva a few times and Satoru just watches you as he holds himself up with his elbows, waiting for your next move. He wasn't sure what you would do, would you panic and have second thoughts?

Just as he thought you were having cold feet, you wrapped your hands around his throbbing cock, earning a whine out of him. Satoru loves how soft your hands are, his pre-cum keeps dripping down.

You stroke his cock a few times from the base to the tip, making him throw his head back as he loses himself at your touch. You surprised him by putting your lips on the tip of his cock, his eyes snapping back to your face as he reached for your cheeks.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, babe, you don't have to do this.” Satoru's cheeks were burning red as his Adam's apple bobbed. “But I want to.” You looked into his eyes innocently. “You're killing me babe. Ughh fine.” Satoru let go of your face, just as you were about to continue, he had you turn around in a sixty-nine position. “??!!?” you were shocked but Satoru says, “If you get to have your way, I'll get to have mine.”

He pulled your panties down, you were so wet that there was a string of slick that was attaching your panties to your soaked cunt. Satoru couldn't wait anymore as he ripped the panties right off. “Hey! These were new and it's my favorite set!!” you protest, watching him fling the ripped panties to God knows where. “Don't worry babe, I'll be buying you a thousand more.”

Satoru licks a strip from your clit to your cunt, moaning and complementing how sweet you tasted. You didn't want to be out done, you started licking him from the base to the tip. “Fuckkkkkk. That feels so good.” Satoru sends vibrations up your cunt as he speaks, making you moan. You take his cock in your mouth, humming as you struggle to take all of him, sending vibrations back to Satoru in a never ending cycle.

It almost feels like there was a competition going on, each wanting to make the other cum first. But you know you were at a disadvantage since you've never done it before and weren't sure if Satoru had done this with anyone else. Little did you know Satoru was already so far on the edge, he was trying his hardest to not cum right away.

Satoru tries his best to distract you, he starts rubbing rough circles on your clit as his tongue enters the tightness of your cunt, gliding around in a wicked way. He had your head thrown back for a moment, he could feel your hips moving for more fiction, he inserted his middle finger slowly as his tongue worked its magic.

You lean back down and start sucking harder on his leaking cock, drinking up his pre-cum, making him buck his hips. You could only fit half of him in your mouth and use your hands to jerk the remaining parts.

Satoru was so close but wanted you to cum first and knows exactly where your favorite spot is. He hooks his arm around you, holding you down so you won't be able to escape as his middle finger rubs the one spot which makes you release every time.

You were cumming and trying to pull away, Satoru knows this and already had you pinned down, “Sa-toru!! Cumming!!” Your hands were still around his cock and was squeezing around his base, “Sh-hit me too!!” Satoru came so hard his cum shot up and some landed on your face.

Satoru turned you around once again and had you laying down beside him. He saw his cum on your face and his half softened cock instantly became rock hard again. “You got some on your face, here let me wipe it off.” Satoru was trying to grab a Kleenex when you touched your face. You dabbed some of his cum and licked your finger. Satoru moaned as he watched you taste his cum. “It tastes… sweet.” You smile at Satoru as he wipes the rest off with the Kleenex.

Satoru was now sitting up between your legs, you could see his cock throbbing painfully hard again. He had one hand on your hip and the other was running small gentle circles on your puffy clit. He wanted more, he wanted to be inside you, he wanted to finally make you his. You could see the desire darken in his eyes, and secret you want the same, you want to be connected to him.

“Will it hurt?” You shyly ask Satoru. “Maybe, but I will try my best to make you feel good.” Satoru speaks so gently, sending shivers up your spine. “Will it all fit?” You look down at his huge pulsing cock. “Oh I'll make it fit babe.” Satoru smirks with confidence. You put one hand on his forearm and the other over your entrance, holding your folds open with your fingers. “Make me yours, Satoru.”

Satoru wanted to ram his cock inside you at that second, but he didn't want to hurt you. You could see veins popping up his arms and forehead from restraining himself.

He leans down to kiss you again, you could taste yourself from his kiss as his tongue swirls in your mouth. His middle finger is inserted inside your cunt once again. He's pumping his finger in and out of you, once he felt you've loosen up a bit, he inserted his index finger along with the other.

The sudden stretch had you gasping, you already felt so full just from his fingers, how are you going to take all of his cock? Just as your mind wanders off, Satoru wraps his index finger with his middle and starts turning his wrist, sending another wave of pleasure rippling through you. “You're gonna make me cum again!” you tried to warn Satoru, he whispers into your ear as he uses his body to weigh you down. “Cum for me.”

Your second orgasm hits you harder than the first, making your body spaz under him. Satoru pulls his fingers out and sticks them in his mouth to lick off your slick. He slotted his cock between your folds and rubbed himself against your slit, coating his cock with your slick.

He lines himself up to your pussy, his tip kissing the entrance. “Are you ready?” He asks as he prepares. You nod your head and he smiles. Satoru grabs onto your hip and slowly pushes his way in. He had you screaming in pleasure as he pushed through the tight walls. “I need you to relax, you are pushing me out.” Satoru pants as he tries rubbing circles on your clit as he pulls back a bit just to push in again.

You tried your best to relax but it did hurt. You bite down to your bottom lip so hard that it draws blood. Satoru sees this and reminds you to breathe and licks your lips which actually help to calm you down, making you a bit more relaxed. “Good girl, you're doing great.” His words encourage you to relax furthermore. Satoru pushes more of his cock in you, his praise had you gushing around his cock, making it easier to enter. You could feel his cock pushing his way inside, every vein, every throb, molding you into his shape.

You feel so full of Satoru your eyes become watery from the overwhelming feeling. When your tears finally overflow, Satoru informs you he is all the way in. “You have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Satoru confessed. You weren't sure what he meant, since the 2 of you didn't know each other that long.

Satoru had been stalking you for months and had been doing all kinds of things to you while you were sleeping. You've always thought you were just dreaming, little did you know it was all very very real.

“I'm going to start moving now, are you ready?” Satoru was not actually trying to ask, he was going to start rolling his hips even if you protest now. But you never did, nodding your head again as he hums with your approval. He starts by pulling back painfully slowly, until only his tip is inside of you, then he pushes his way back in just as slowly, making you whine from slowly being filled up again by his hard throbbing cock. He does that a few more times before you voiced out.

“Satoru!!! Please hah… I need m-more!” You begged, the slow friction was not enough, you were getting greedy. “Of course ngh, anything for my mmm… darling.” His eyes landed on your teary face as he licked his lips. He pulled out slowly one last time and held himself there for a few seconds as he tilted his head back to steady his breath. Just as you were about to call his name again “Sato- ahhh!!” He sheaths himself back into your tight walls in one powerful thrust, having your back arching off the bed.

Satoru is now thrusting hard and fast at an inhumane pace, you were trying to push him away with your hands before he grabbed hold of your wrists to use them to pull you towards him. “Too much!! Cumming!! Nngh!!” You were gushing all around his cock again but he shows no sign of slowing down. Your orgasm kept going on and on, till your mouth was gaping open and eyes rolled back to the back of your head.

“Heh… you came so hard just now.” Satoru finally slows down but he is not pulling out. “Sensitive… Satoru, please, I need a break.” You whine and try to back away. He grabbed onto your hips, “No, babe, I haven't cum yet. You're a good girl, you'll let me cum right?”

Your mind was going blank but you replied with a “mmhmm” which had Satoru suddenly pulled out and turning your body till you're on all four. He lines himself up to your twitching entrance then thrusted himself back in. It feels like his cock is going even deeper in this position, your brain is turning into mush, your arms couldn't hold you up anymore as you collapse onto your bed. Your knees were shaking but Satoru’s grip on your hips held you up.

He was losing his mind as well, he had one foot planted on the bed as he fucks you hard from behind. His cock hits your g-spot repeatedly and turns you into a drooling mess, you couldn't even form words anymore, your moans were the only sounds coming out of you.

Your walls were squeezing him so tight he was about to burst. He wasn't sure if you would allow him to cum inside you, since this is your first time. “Babe, I'm cumming, where..” he didn't even finish his question before you screamed out “Inside!! Cum inside!!!” all you heard was another whine from Satoru before hot ropes of cum hit your deepest parts over and over.

Satoru was being milked dry, but he gladly gives you every last drop. He doesn't pull out, even as he softens, wanting to plug you up so his cum stays in you longer.

Satoru finally pulled you to his chest as he lay down on your bed, spooning you as he still had you plugged up. You were so exhausted you fell asleep quickly in the comfort of his embrace. Satoru lightly strokes your head and slowly succumbs to his own sleepiness.

Satoru thought he was still dreaming when he woke up with you in his arms early in the morning. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and breathes you in, he could feel his blood rushing to his cock. Satoru whines when he realized he was still safely tucked inside your spongy walls, his raging erection had you stirring while you were still asleep.

Your little moans and whines were so adorable that Satoru couldn't help but want more friction along his hard length. You weren't wet enough for him to actually move yet, so he slowly rolled you over with your front pressed on the mattress and he pinned you down with his own body as he started playing with your clit.

You were starting to feel everything, the way Satoru was rubbing circles on your clit and how his half sheathed cock kept throbbing trying to make its way inside. You were fully woken up when Satoru decided to pinch your puffy clit, sending shivers up your spine.

“Sa-toru??! Aah!” As you tried to struggle underneath him, “good morning babe, sorry, I couldn't ngh… help myself.” The attack on your clit gets rougher. You are now wet enough for Satoru to start moving.

He begins by pulling himself all the way out, the sudden emptiness has your hips chasing his cock. Satoru noticed and let's put a low chuckle, he got off of you and laid on his back, making you wonder why he didn't keep going.

As you pushed yourself up to look at him, he tapped his thighs, “get on me.” you didn't even get enough time to respond when Satoru's hands found your hips and easily adjusted you on top of him.

“I want you to ride me.” Satoru had you sitting on his cock. Your slit was rubbing along his cock as he moved your hips and grinded against you. “Mmgh.. it's so early in the morning. And we did so much last night.” You tried to protest. “I can never get enough of you, I don't ever want to get separated from you. Plus, I can't leave you all wet and my cock all hard.”

Satoru has one hand massaging one of your butt cheeks as the other stretches from your hips while his thumb rubs against your clit, why are his hands so big? He also looks at you with his big, beautiful, blue puppy eyes while giving you a little pout. It was a losing battle from the start, there was no way for you to turn down his charm. As you tried to adjust yourself to take him, Satoru let out the brightest toothy smile, making your heart pound against your chest.

His cock was already standing in full attention as you lifted yourself up to welcome him, you paused as you lined yourself up to his length. You slowly sink yourself down, Satoru was already a leaking mess as you go past the tight ring of muscles. You were already beginning to struggle when he was only half way inside. “You can do it babe, do it for me.” You bite down to your bottom lip as you pull yourself up to sink back into him, which gets him a bit deeper. “Only 3 inches left, you can do it, I know you can.” Satoru tries to talk you through but you thought it would be impossible, 3 more inches??? There is no way you could take all of him.

“Aahhha… I don't ngh! I can't.. oh!” You were trying hard but you were at your limits. “You must. You took me so well last night. You can do it again.” Satoru moved his big hands to your hips and pulled you down, making you scream from pleasure. He's lifting you up and down his length easily like you were his toy. He’s feral, he had both his feet firmly planted on the mattress as he lifted himself up to thrust up into you. You were trying hard to hold on, you thought this would be similar to a mechanic bull if you ever got on one. Satoru has a death grip on your hips but still feels like you would fly off any second from the way he's thrusting into you.

You were close to the edge when you looked down on Satoru's face. He was gritting his teeth and his eyebrows were furrowed, he is also at his limits. Your pussy clutches on his cock when you see the expression on his face. “Argh!! I'll cum if you squeeze me that hard.” Satoru was slowly losing his rhythm, this thrusts getting sloppy as he slams you down to his cock. “Cumming!!!” You both said in unison as your bodies twitch and ride out your orgasms.

Satoru finally collapsed down against the mattress and you on top of him. Both trying to catch your breath, you were looking for your phone to check the time since you have work. You panicked when you saw the time, your alarm had gone off and turned itself off for ringing too long. You tried to pull yourself off of Satoru's cock but your legs gave out, causing the both of you to whine.

“How am I going to go to work like this??” You were a hard worker, you would go into work even when you're not feeling well. You are also very bad at lying, you are not sure how to let them know the reason why you couldn't go to work. Satoru couldn't help but giggle at the way you were panicking, you glared at him but he just thinks you were the most adorable little thing.

“You could always just quit and come live off me.” Satoru hums, he was serious about taking care of you. “That's crazy Satoru… we JUST started dating not too long ago. You would really let me live off you?” You raised your brow questioning him. “Mmhmm! You can be my pretty little housewife, you will never have to work a single day for the rest of your life.” He pulls you into his embrace.

You blush now, Satoru had pretty much just purposes to you, and a part of you wants to just say yes, but another part of you worry, ‘what if this doesn't work out?’ Satoru was never going to let you go now that he felt how your pussy was made for him, he would chase you to the end of the universe.

You end up calling into work, Satoru had a day off and the 2 of you went to the dessert shop to get your favorite mochi.

“So you 2 ended up together.” The cashier comments, you blinked at her confused. “Who could forget how pathetic your lover boy was when he didn't get the mochi he wanted, even bagged the other lady to sell him the ones she got.” Satoru was Sheeshing at her and she continued, “You gave him your box of dessert before you ran out.” She looks at you confused, as in she was questioning how you could have forgotten it.

Now that you thought about it, you do recall that happening, finally remembering his fluffy white hair. “Oh my god Nobara! What did we say about being rude to the customers??!” A boy with spiky hair shouts from the back. She stuck out her tongue and walked away, another cheerful boy with pink hair came out and finished serving the 2 of you.

“So… is there anything you are forgetting to tell me? We didn't really meet by chance did we?” You question Satoru. He was nervous, not sure how to answer. “Only if you promise you will not get mad” Satoru says as he runs ahead of you.

Notes: sorry this took a while... I had this 90% done and sitting in the drafts and started reading the works of the other wonderful people 🙇 forgive me

#jjk gojo #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader

147 notes · View notes

katsu28 · 2 days ago

Text

the way you love

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: loving george russell is as easy as breathing sometimes, especially with the way he loves you. loosely inspired by stardust by zayn. (2.8k)

a/n: welcome to the first of four holiday fics! i'm hoping to post one a day until christmas eve, so stay tuned :)

Maybe you should’ve waited inside for George to pick you up.

Granted, you haven't been out here long, and you know he’ll be here soon, but it’s cold. Frigid wind whips your hair around your face, scraping over your skin harshly.

You nuzzle a little deeper into your scarf in a poor attempt to protect your cheeks.

The two cardboard cups clutched in your hands do help a little with the biting cold. One for you, one for George, both filled to the brim with steaming coffee from the little shop down the street from your building.

They’ve rolled out their holiday cups today, as noted by the festive little scene printed across the sleeve. It makes you smile, and you think George will probably like it too.

George’s sleek car pulls up in front of you with a gentle rumble not long later. You’re expecting him to be smiling when he gets out, but when his head pops over the roof of the car, he just looks concerned.

“Blimey, have you been waiting out here the entire time?” He exclaims incredulously, rounding the front of the car quickly.

You barely have time to nod before he’s easing the cups out of your grip. Only once they’re secured into cup holders inside the car does he grab your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to breathe a little warmth back into them.

“Didn’t want you to have to wait on me,” You say, as if it’s any excuse to have been standing in the freezing cold. Really, you just wanted to see George as soon as he came to pick you up. You’ve just seen him only last week, but it feels like forever.

“Darling, it’s freezing,” He reasons. He’s smiling now, despite the attempt to keep his firm composure.

You frown. “I missed you.”

He kisses you instead of answering, short and sweet, but still bursting with affection.

“Hi,” You say softly, nuzzling deeper into his broad palm after he pulls back an inch or two. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, bringing some more much needed heat back into your skin. You won’t tell him, but your nose had been starting to lose a bit of feeling.

“Hi. I missed you too,” He replies, fondness dripping from his tone.

“Yeah?”

“Of course. Longest five days of my life.”

That makes you grin even harder, pushing forward for another quick kiss. “Mine too.”

“Glad we feel the same.” He looks very pleased. “Shall we get a move on? We’re a little early, but I know how much you hate being late to things. I even told Alex to expect us early.”

You’re set to head to Alex Albon’s Christmas party in a little bit. George goes every year, but this is the first time you’re going too. You’re excited, nervous, and a little bit scared at the prospect of finally getting to meet all of George’s friends at one time. You've met a handful of them individually, gradually, George happily introducing you as his girlfriend every time, but never in such a large social setting like this party.

You aren’t quite sure what to expect, but if the ones you haven’t met are anything like the ones you have, you’ll be just fine.

“And what did he say about that?”

“That Lily is relieved someone competent is coming round to help out, so I’d say he’s pretty okay with it,” George says, chuckling. “C’mon, let's get you out of the cold.”

You allow George to help you into the car, letting out a comfortable sigh at the blazing warmth of the car interior. George has always liked to keep your shared spaces running hot despite your wishing for the opposite, but for the first time ever, you’re actually grateful for your boyfriend’s temperature preference.

“Nice, isn’t it?” He teases as he climbs into the driver’s seat, nudging at your shoulder. “See, I told you you’d come around someday.”

“Only because it’s cold as shit outside,” You huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I got you coffee.”

“Thank you, darling. Though I wish you hadn’t sacrificed your health to do so.”

“I know you had another late night yesterday, thought you might be tired. It’s fine, really, I didn’t mind,” You insist, shaking your head.

“You’re very sweet,” George says softly, leaning over the center to press a kiss to your cheek.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you turn at the last moment so he catches your lips instead. He lets out a noise of surprise, but has no hesitation in kissing you back happily, slipping a hand around the back of your neck to pull you closer.

You kiss and kiss and kiss until your lips start to tingle, and even then, you’re reluctant to pull away. There’s something intoxicating about kissing George that makes you want to do it forever.

“If we stay here any longer, we might actually end up being late,” George murmurs. He blinks at you, long lashes fluttering open and shut slowly. His breath fans across your skin on every exhale, cologne invading your senses until all that surrounds you is him.

“That would be bad.”

“Mm, awful,” He agrees. Still, he doesn’t make any attempt to pull away, perfectly content here, hiding away with you in the coziness of your close proximity. His nose drags along your cheek, lips following the path until he reaches the corner of your mouth.

You exhale shakily. “Alex and Lily are expecting us.”

“They are.”

“So we should go.”

“I mean, we don’t have to…” George trails off, letting his head tilt to the side.

“Yes, we do. Someone roped us into helping with party prep.”

He sighs rather heavily, handsome features screwing into overdramatic annoyance. “Starting to regret that right about now.” That makes you giggle. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with so we can go home.”

“There’s that holiday spirit!”

The drive over to Alex’s is fairly short. It actually takes more time to make yourselves presentable and not at all like you’ve just been making out in the car, before making your way up to Alex and Lily’s. George has brought presents for both of your friends—a watch for Alex and a bottle of perfume for Lily, he’d informed you in the elevator, bought by him, but a gift from the both of you.

The door swings open with a blast of music and the smell of something delicious not seconds after you knock. Alex stands just behind it with a gracious smile on his face and a flute of something bubbly in hand.

“Hi, welcome—oh, thank god you’re here,” He breathes. Then he stops, stares at the two of you for a few moments, as if he’s studying the both of you. A knowing smirk quirks his lips right after. “George, you’ve got lipstick on your chin, mate.”

George’s hand flies up to his face, rubbing furiously. His cheeks have flushed an embarrassed pink at his friend’s smug observation.

“I’m just kidding. But it was funny to see you panic,” Alex snickers.

“Ha ha, hilarious. Maybe I won’t give you this gift after all.”

Alex takes both boxes eagerly, tucking them under his arm with a wink. “Come on in, friends.”

The flat is decorated tastefully—festive, but not gaudy. You assume Lily had done most of the decor rather than Alex.

Speaking of—

“You’re here!!! Thank god!” Lily exclaims, barely paying George any mind before she whisks you away, chattering away immediately, wanting your opinions on everything from the appetizers to the seating arrangements at dinner. You cast a helpless glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend, who merely gives you an amused wave back.

You do what Lily tells you needs finishing up until the rest of the guests start to make their arrival. Most of the other drivers are in attendance, save for a few who’d opted to spend the holidays home with their families. Charles and Carlos are here, Lando and Oscar, Yuki, Pierre, Zhou and Franco, to name a few.

The bundle of nerves in your chest starts to unravel as more familiar faces trickle in, and you’re able to catch up with a couple of them. You’re chatting with Kika and Pierre about what’s new with Simba when a hand touches the small of your back.

Instantly, you know it's George. His touch is the only one that sends butterflies through you. That’s never happened with anyone else before, but with George, you feel alight with a certain energy every time.

You lean back into him on instinct, tilting your head up to look at him. His cheeks are slightly rosy, hair still perfectly coiffed, save for one curl that has escaped to hang over his forehead. You reach up to brush it back and he smiles, sliding a hand around your waist.

“So sorry to interrupt, you lot. Just wanted to pop in and see if anybody needed a refresher on their drinks,” He offers, though his gaze rests solely on you.

“Thank you, but we’re good, mate,” Pierre replies, as Kika shakes her head to decline too.

George says your name, lips lifting into a small smile as he juts his chin at your nearly empty glass.

“Thank you, Georgie,” You say gratefully. “Don’t forget to—”

“Make it sweeter? Yes, I know how you take your drinks, darling,” He hums, kissing your cheek quickly before retreating with your glass.

“You’ve trained him well,” Pierre teases, winking at you.

“I think he was born that way,” You admit.

That isn’t a lie. According to George’s sister, who you’d had the pleasure of meeting a few months back, he'd always been very kind, very caring, even when he was young. It’s one of the many qualities of his that has you falling in love with him a little more with every passing day.

George leaves you to your own conversations after bringing you your drink, but you see him periodically throughout the night. He always looks like the life of the conversation, talking animatedly, listening with rapt attention when he’s not yapping away.

Even as he’s listening intently, it’s like he can sense you’re looking at him, because he finds you almost instantly, sending a smile or a wink your way. That’s another lovable quality of his—knowing where you are even when he’s not with you. Like you’re two magnets being pulled towards each other at all times.

The more you chat with everyone else, one thing becomes obvious. George talks about you a lot. Not enough to be obnoxious, but he's mentioned you to many of his friends.

Charles knows you’ve been looking into learning how to play the piano because George had asked him something about which pianos were the best. Yuki offers up a few cooking tips because George had mentioned you wanted to try your hand at a new dish. Lewis congratulates you on a big project you’d finished at work a while back, telling you that George had been singing your praises in the garage right after you'd called.

If you look back at it, George has always been one of your biggest supporters.

Always wanting you to call him whenever something big happens because he can’t be there all the time, always doing things for you when he’s away so you never for a moment feel like he's not thinking of you. Sending you flowers, ordering you food from your favorite spot in Monaco even though he's a thousand miles away because he knows it’ll make you smile. Even just texting you a picture of something he saw that made him think of you.

George makes you feel so, so loved, all the time. Like, wherever you are in the world, no matter, everything will be okay because you’ve got him. You could be on some far off deserted island in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the land to live off of, but if George is there with you, it wouldn’t be all that bad.

Sometimes you wonder what your life would’ve been like if you’d never met him, but you never get far with those thoughts. You can’t even imagine what life would look like without George Russell. And honestly, you don’t really want to.

“Ready to head out?” George’s voice draws you out of your thoughts, and when you refocus, he’s right in front of you, holding out your coat. For a moment, you can only stand there, blinking back at him like you’ve just laid eyes on him for the first time ever.

He falters a little under your intense staring. “Darling? Are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Sorry, yeah. I’m fine, I’m just…tired, I think.”

“Let’s go home then. Stay the night at mine?”

“Duh,” You say. Your obvious tone makes George chuckle a little bit as he helps you slip into your coat.

“How silly of me to even ask.”

After finding your hosts to thank them for the great evening and subsequently being invited for a game of doubles padel with them one of these days, you're off.

“I don’t have any skin cleanser,” You say suddenly, just as George has pulled onto the main road.

“What?”

“At your place. I don’t have my cleanser, the one I always use before bed.”

“The one in the little green bottle?”

“Yeah.” You frown, slumping back in your seat. In hindsight, it’s really not the biggest deal in the world, and you’re not sure why you’re making it one. But for some reason right now, you’re focused on it.

“Lucky for you, your wonderful boyfriend bought a bottle just in case this happened. He figured you’d probably forget it one of these days.”

“Is there a reason my wonderful boyfriend is referring to himself in the third person?” You giggle, shifting in your seat to face said thoughtful boyfriend. George’s cheeks are flushed a little pink.

“Yeah, I thought it was a little weird too. Anyways, there’s a bottle in the bathroom cupboard.”

“Thank you, Georgie. You’re always so thoughtful.”

“Y’know, you could just move in with me. That way you won’t have to worry about not having things at mine anymore.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he speaks, but you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows nervously. “You’ve already got loads of stuff there anyways, why not just bring it all? You wouldn’t have to drive across the city every time you come over, for one.”

“I barely drive to yours anyways, you know. You always insist on picking me up,” You tease. George smiles, but you can tell he’s serious about wanting you to move in with him. You sigh, squeezing his hand. “Babe, I’d love nothing more, but…I could never afford to live with you.”

“I’m not going to have you pay rent or anything like that, darling. I wouldn't ask that of you.” George’s nose wrinkles, like it’s absurd of you to even think about it. “Just your company would be more than enough, honestly. Make the place less empty, more like��home.”

You can already imagine it. Falling asleep next to each other every night, waking up tangled together every morning, getting to come home and unwind with each other after long days. Breakfasts and afternoon teas and dinners you’d make together in George’s massive kitchen. Your stuff mingling with his in every room of the place.

Maybe you’d adopt a pet together one day, one that could keep you company every time George was away for races.

“Okay,” You say softly. You’ve already convinced yourself. “Let’s live together.”

George pulls to a stop at the red light, taking the opportunity to lean over into your space and kiss you gently. “Let’s do it, darling.”

Taking the next step in your relationship seems daunting, but George will be there to soothe any anxieties you have. He always is.

“Oh no! We forgot about the coffee.” He frowns, plucking the still full cup out of the holder suddenly. Then he shrugs, taking a giant sip of it. “Cute cup.”

“George, it’s cold!” You exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. “Just throw it out when we get home.”

“It tastes fine!”

“It’s probably stale.”

“I think it’s delicious.”

“You’re so weird.”

He chooses to ignore the muttered quip, letting a giant grin stretch his lips instead, eyes gleaming with excitement. “You called it home.”

“Well, it is now, isn’t it? Or will be soon enough.”

“Sure will. I’m thinking we move you in tomorrow.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. “I have to get out of my lease first. It might take a while too, my landlord is kind of an asshole.”

“I’ll give him double whatever you’re paying right now to let you out of it early. No, triple.”

“I don’t think he’d appreciate bribery, but he is a Mercedes fan.”

“Paddock passes and VIP club access to Monaco next season, done.”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new writing :)

#george russell #george russell x reader #gr63 #gr63 x reader #george russell x fem!reader #george russell x you #gr63 x fem!reader #george russell fic #george russell fluff

113 notes · View notes

xinganhao · 16 hours ago

Text

a peek into the process that was making catch you when i can.

(1) vernon x rockstar!reader was largely unnamed for the most part. i only figured that it at least deserves a title when i revamped the series masterlist, but the answer was pretty instant.

i start (and end) the story with vernon and reader saying a variation of 'catch you when i can', which is established in part one as "something exchanged as often as 'i love you'." i feel like it captures the struggles of a long-distance relationship very well. it's also a shameless reference to the iconic leonardo di caprio and tom hanks film lol:

(2) this wasn't supposed to be a series, honestly. part two was my attempt to cope with svt's new york shows, and i was convinced that i would end it with the cliffhanger of rockstar!reader accidentally posting vernon on her main instagram. but the verse just wouldn't let me go— hence, the full-blown smau.

(3) the 'vernhow' style headcanons for part three are probably my favorite style of headcanons not only for this series, but also my entire blog. getting to play around with it was so fun. buried in it is the crux of what would eventually be the ending: "Everybody now knows that you, Chwe Hansol, have a girlfriend. Someone you want so bad that you'll go back on all the things you believe."

(4) when i first referenced john mayer's Edge of Desire in part three, i wasn't quite thinking of his 2010 hollywood bowl performance just yet.

i revisited it when i was facing intense writer's block for the final chapter and everything flowed easily after that. part five is best read with that version of the song playing (linked as suggested listening lol) because i wrote nearly the entire thing while looping the track.

↳ this part in the song reminded me of how part four's headcanons were entirely about vernon's definition of 'fight', and how— despite his willingness to keep going with the relationship— it's ultimately a two-way street. it doesn't matter how much one tries. if, at the end of the day, the two of you aren't in it together? then the relationship will end. plain, simple, harsh.

↳ in the first part, the headcanons touch on vernon not being a big believer in "long-distance relationships or relationships in general," which all completely change after he starts dating reader. the real clincher, though, is how vernon spends much of part five being a 'terrible' ex: unable to go without contact, still supportive as ever. as the song goes: he's scared you'll forget about him.

(5) part five intentionally uses the first nine or so panels from an outsider's perspective. i wanted to really drive home the struggle of their public relationship and how it might have taken its toll/strain on the couple. it's what eventually inspired the brief headcanons, ala-he said, she said.

(6) i almost made vernon specifically reference romcoms with airport reunions in the finale, but i didn't want to isolate readers who might have not seen said films lol. the movies that would have been referenced were love actually (2003) and serendipity (2001).

(7) my top three panels in no particular order are—

was obsessed with a panicked vernon going "my gorgeous princess wife babygirl" + very characteristic of him to suddenly swoon when one of his favorite bands is brought up + something about vernon wanting a do-over on his 'hard launch' is just. #real.

(8) Black Eye is first mentioned in a part two headcanon where reader performs it in a speakeasy in front of vernon. it's posed as the moment that vernon realized he might he in love.

this makes it all the more cruel how reader unwittingly jokes that Black Eye is a breakup song in part five. i chose to conclude the series on the track's anniversary for no other reason than me needing a specific deadline to wrap stuff up lol.

(8.1) i think i do recall having some of Black Eye bleed into the work, which might be evident in the following lyrics & consequent story parallels:

running 'round the whole city looking for someone -> ties in to part two, where the headcanons are based on how vernon and reader feel about new york city i can't stand the quiet/is anyone out there? is anyone out there? -> best encapsulated in how vernon continues to contact reader post-break up (also parallels mayer's 'i'm scared you'll forget about me') i'm on my worst behavior, don't stop me now -> in part four, vernon gets into a physical altercation with the press in defense of reader and he's adamant that he did the right thing i'm okay, i'll just let it burn around me -> best captures vernon in part five + another parallel to mayer, where a part in the song goes 'i'm just about to set fire to everything i see'

(9) ending this with what i anticipate to be part of the faqs, post-main story: why did vernon and reader break up just to get back together again?

the long answer: because people are messy. because we think we know best— for ourselves, for others— and so we act on those impulses in the name of self-preservation, or care, or whatever noble thing you want to call it. people are complex and complicated, and with that comes regret, romance, and everything in between.

"they should have just worked it out!" they did try. it's human nature to feel slighted when things don't work out in your favor. there's only so much tenacity that a person can have before they're cursing the universe for the cards they're dealt, so can vernon/reader really be blamed for fraying?

"the breakup was unnecessary!" i could argue that it isn't. say some bs about it being very necessary, in fact, for character development, plot progression (lol), 'not realizing what you have until it's gone'. the works. but admittedly? i agree.

we— vernon and reader included— make questionable choices. whether or not we double down, move on, or circle back is an entirely different story in itself. vernon and reader found their way back; not all of us are as lucky. but some of us can be, some of us have been, and that was enough for me to trust that the story would sail.

the knowledge that, at the end of the day, the love that 'wins' is the one that makes the work worth it.

the short answer: i just really wanted them to have a happy ending. god knows they deserve it.

thank you for reading and enjoying this little story! it was mine once, but it's all yours now. ❥

catch you when i can (vernon x reader)

⤿ a five-part series charting vernon's relationship with you, an international rockstar.

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 —

✮ part one, the one with the origin story. ✮ part two, the one where vernon tours in your city. ✮ part three, the one where you go public. ✮ part four, the one about fighting. ✮ part five, the one where a choice has to be made.

ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, use of pet names. fluff, angst. cussing.

annotations for the main verse.

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒 —

there's nothing here yet! :)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

with love, kae ✎ i adore this verse so, so much that asks (i.e. drabbles, headcanons, smaus) for it will be perpetually open, regardless of whether or not my main requests are open. as always, this wouldn't have come to light without the anon who asked for it in the first place! i'm eternally indebted.

thank you for reading catch you when i can. <3

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

#── ᵎᵎ ✦ yapping

493 notes · View notes

lvnleah · 12 hours ago

Text

— christmas cookies | leah williamson 🎄

find the twelve days of Christmas masterlist here!

The early December air was crisp and cool, but inside the warmth of your kitchen, everything felt cosy and festive. You were 37 weeks pregnant, your belly round and heavy with anticipation for your little one’s arrival. Each day felt like a countdown, the excitement growing, yet the exhaustion was starting to settle in.

Leah had been so supportive throughout your pregnancy. She’d been the one to rub your swollen feet at the end of long training days, the one to help you adjust your shoes as your belly got in the way, and the one who never complained about taking on a little extra around the house to keep things running smoothly. Today, though, she was all about baking Christmas cookies with you. She’d promised that she would take care of everything, and that meant you could relax, even if only for a few hours.

The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and sugar as Leah carefully mixed together the ingredients for sugar cookies. You stood by the counter, leaning slightly to one side as you adjusted yourself to get more comfortable. Your hands rested on your belly, feeling the soft movements of the baby inside you.

Leah glanced up at you, catching the way you were gently stroking your belly and smiled. “How’s the little one doing?” she asked softly, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

You smiled back at her, feeling a sudden rush of affection. “Kicking away. Seems like they’re just as excited for Christmas as we are.”

Leah’s eyes softened, her gaze drifting to your belly for a moment before she returned to the cookie dough. “Can’t wait to meet them,” she murmured, a fondness in her voice that made your heart swell.

You shuffled over to the cupboard and grabbed the cookie cutters, setting them on the counter. “You know, I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” you said, your voice quiet. “We’re going to be parents.”

Leah chuckled, her hands never stopping their work. “You’re just realising that now? Bit late now babe.”

“Maybe a little,” you said with a playful grin. “It feels real now. I mean, we’ve been talking about it for months, but now that it’s getting so close…” You trailed off, not really needing to say more. The anticipation was tangible, and it was as though you could feel the excitement in every part of your being.

Leah finished mixing the dough and turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, what shapes are we making first?” She held up a rolling pin, clearly ready for the next step.

You smiled. “How about stars and trees? It feels appropriate for Christmas.”

“Stars and trees it is.” Leah handed you the rolling pin and watched as you gently rolled out the dough, your movements slow and careful. It had become a bit of a challenge to do things as easily as you once had, but Leah was right there beside you, guiding your hands when needed.

Once the dough was rolled out, Leah cut out the first set of shapes with a steady hand. “You know,” she said casually, “I’ve never actually baked with anyone during Christmas before. It’s always been just me and my family, but this… this feels different. Special.”

You glanced up at her, her face soft with the realisation of what the two of you were creating together. “It is special,” you agreed. “It’s the start of our own little family traditions.”

Leah smiled, her cheeks pink from the warmth of the oven and the shared joy of the moment. The next few hours were spent laughing, decorating cookies with icing and sprinkles, and chatting about everything and nothing. You couldn’t help but laugh as Leah concentrated so hard on making sure the snowman on her cookie had the perfect carrot nose.

“You’re too good at this,” you teased, pointing to her nearly perfect snowman.

Leah raised an eyebrow, holding up her own cookie. “And what about mine? I think it looks just as good.”

You held up your own snowman cookie next to hers. “Well, I mean… it’s not bad, but you may need to work on your icing skills,” you joked.

Leah laughed, the sound light and carefree, as she pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “You’re still the best partner in crime, even with messy icing.”

As you both stepped back and surveyed the table covered in decorated cookies, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The house smelled like sugar and spice, and the world outside had gone quiet, save for the soft hum of holiday music in the background. There was a sense of calm about this time of year, one that you hadn’t always felt, but now you did. You were ready for whatever was to come.

Leah wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “These will be perfect to leave out for Santa,” she said with a smile. “And maybe we can eat some of them before bed, too.”

You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder. “I think Santa will be pleased with our work. But honestly, I’m more excited for us to start this next chapter.”

Leah gave you a tight squeeze, her lips brushing the top of your head. “Me too. And I can’t wait to do all of this with you—every step of the way.”

As the evening stretched on, you two cleaned up the kitchen, your laughter and love filling the space. This Christmas, the anticipation of your baby’s arrival made everything feel even more meaningful. And no matter how much the world outside may change, you knew this was where your heart would always be—right here, baking cookies with the woman you loved and looking forward to the beautiful family you were about to become.

#lvnleah #awfc #leah williamson #lvnleah: 12 days of christmas

61 notes · View notes

willowed-wisp · 2 days ago

Text

gaz as a dad (part two) [ kyle garrick ]

part one |

- Puts on a brave face to you and he’s leaving for deployment but you know he’s dying on the inside- running the statistics through his head of his chances of survival

- Your daughter’s first word was in facts, “Dada”, she’s such a daddy’s girl.

- It’s hell for you when he’s away having a one year old who doesn’t know where her dad is, playing old videos of him to keep her sane

- All the while you were pregnant with your little girl. Kyle misses kissing your stomach every hour of the day, even when you weren’t pregnant he’ll do it

- You’re about 4-5 months along when he leaves.

- Kyle has two older sisters (he’s the baby of the family) and they treat you like their own blood in the best way possible

- They are taking you out baby shopping while he’s away, they’re staying over to spend time with your daughter

- Don’t get started with Kyle’s mum, she may be the in-law ever. Kyle’s dad left and never came back when he was young

- Everyday is a party to them, they’re so joyous and you see why Kyle is so well adjusted and a proper gentleman

- They live just around the corner and you go round every other night for dinner with your little girl and little bump

- They sympathise with you when Kyle is away, his mother didn’t understand why he enlisted into the army to begin with but over the years she saw the glint in his eye

- Like you had- he lived to fight the shadow wars… though he preferred to spend time with his family in more recent times

- After having a child, his relationship with his family, his mother especially, healed.

- He’s low-key jealous that his sisters steal you away and spend more time with you than he gets to

- But he’s so glad you get along with them- they can be picky and have never liked anyone brought home before

- Kyle returns when you are about to pop, 8 months pregnant and he doesn’t know when he’s getting redeployed

- No matter how many times it would happen, Kyle isn’t sure he’d ever remain composed in the delivery room.

- But what had remained the same with your birthing is that he feels so still and grounded when holding his children in his arms

- Your eldest is a mini him and your youngest is a mini you

- He’s sent back out four months later, but for a shorter time period.

- When he comes back, you’re not okay… he found you crying in the shower away from your kids in the middle of the night

- “Please don’t leave us…” He must be the most understanding partner, he battles demons in his head everyday but it hits different when it’s the love of his life, mother of his children who is suffering outwardly

- Sobbing in his clothed arms

- He had read about post-partum depression and he is an actual angel when it comes to dealing with it

- He takes on more tasks so you can have your own space but always curls up around you on the sofa

- Your eldest girl attempts to climb up and Kyle helps her

- Is so good with kids dealing with his nieces and nephews

- Grew up in a house full of women, that’s why he’s so endearing and thoughtful about you

- Kyle was so nervous to ask his Captain such a bold question, Price had seen photos of your daughters so he knew they existed

- He also lived not too far from your house so he came over and got into a wrestling match that your eldest won (definitely let her win lol)

- “Sir, since we’re speaking casually… Y/N and I were wondering if you were wanted to be the godfather to the girls…”

- John had never been asked that before and hold back the tears welling. A hand on Kyle’s shoulder, a nod, “Of course I will, Sergeant.”

- His sisters are the godmothers and maybe someone close to you as the other godfather

- About three years into the relationship when your eldest daughter is about 2 and the youngest is nearly 1, you tie the knot.

- Nothing too extravagant, he didn’t like being centre of attention…

- Only the closest people there: his mum, sisters, Simon, Johnny, Price and your closest family you’re in contact with

- You may or not be pregnant with bubba no. 3…

- Spoilers! Baby boy on the way

————

cod m.list | request guidelines | gaz m.list

#gaz garrick x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz x you #gaz x y/n #kyle gaz x reader #sergeant kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #gaz x reader #dad!gaz #cod modern warfare #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw x reader #cod mwii #price cod #call of duty

43 notes · View notes

monkey-overalls · 20 hours ago

Text

Project: Eden’s Garden Daily Life Thoughts

Okay, I just finished the Daily Life walkthrough—here are my thoughts so far:

Eva. Eva Freaking Tsunaka. I did not expect her to go from a character I’d basically forgotten about since the prologue to my current favorite. She’s literally everything—it’s hard to put into words how much I love her in all her geeky glory. The fact that her “Ultimate Liar” talent was, in itself, a lie was something I somehow didn’t see coming, but her real talent is definitely more intriguing. Thanks to the let’s-player only choosing her FTEs, we get to know so much about her backstory and how unfairly she was treated by her school, teammates, and the UTP. Of course, some—or even all—of that could also be a lie, but for now I choose to believe she only lied initially to protect herself. Besides, she really doesn’t have much to gain from continuously venting about her past to Damon. I’m pulling a Kaito and believing in her simply because I can!!!

Kai. You bet I’m already attaching myself to the pink-haired, crybaby sidekick. I have a type, and my type is incredibly obvious to literally anyone who’s spent at least five minutes on my blog. He’s obnoxious, whiny, and I can’t help but want to give him a fidget cube and cradle him in a weighted blanket. He’s sopping wet and perfect. I also already shipped him and Damon from the start and boy do I feel vindicated!

Wolfgang. I know he’s the fan-favorite, and it’s easy to see why, but I can’t bring myself to like him all that much because the dude is just so unbelievably shady. Before chapter one, I thought there was a good chance he could be the first victim, especially when he’s so clearly set up as Damon’s narrative foil, but after a while my suspicions turned to Eva (no matter how sick that made me feel). Sorry Wolfgang fans, I actually breathed a sigh of relief when he was revealed to be dead because I was so certain it would be Eva. Hopefully this isn’t me seriously jinxing myself and she turns out to be the killer or something. Also damn his death artwork is brutal.

Uhhh lightning round… Ingrid is so sweet; Applejack is one of my highest kins so you know I’m keeping my eye on this hard-working Southern belle. Toshiko is adorable and her secret made me laugh out loud, though I immediately felt guilty about it. Grace continues to be loud and antagonistic, you go queen. Jett has done nothing of note so far but he’s still at the top of my list for his unmatched Scooby Doo goofiness alone. Diana inviting Eva to be her roommate makes her an automatic winner in my book (and I lowkey ship them) but her questioning of Damon makes me a tad suspicious. My thoughts about Jean can basically be summed up in that one meme that goes something like “I’m gonna be honest, I’m only focusing on your titties right now.” Cassidy’s cool, and I’m almost certain her blackmail picture was a reference to the Jerma onion ring clip. Eloise, Mark, Desmond, Wenona, and Ulysses… exist. Sorry, I don’t have much to say about any of them.

TDLR; Eva Tsunaka lovers unite, Kai sucks but in a lovable way, and RIP Wolfgang I guess lmao

#project eden's garden #project: eden's garden #p:eg #p:eg spoilers #p:eg chapter 1 #eva tsunaka #kai monteago #wolfgang akire

29 notes · View notes

deepestnightcolor · 2 days ago

Text

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kinkmas - 22nd of December⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

ᴀ/ɴ: There we are. A door is smiling at you again. Are you ready to open it? Take a peek? Maybe engulf in it? I thank you for your time and I hope you will enjoy!

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Shane x Fem!HYBRID!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 7501 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: the reader is a HYBRID, Shane is rough, raw sex, public sex, seduction, despair, talks of alcoholism and depression, Shane is a fucking grump, creampie, loads of cursing and degredation.

The Feast of the Winterstar – what fucking humbug. That was at least what Shane had always believed ever since he had turned 13 years old. Over the years that thought had settled and manifested in something borderline hateful. He hated the way people pretended to care about one another for one day. Hated how people started talking to him the closer it got to that Yoba-forsaken day – people that didn’t even glance his way any other time of the year! Hated coughing up money for gifts for people he couldn’t care less about, hated standing around in the cold, listening to meaningless chatter and looking in faces that were so full of pretence that it made him want to belch. Of course, Shane wasn’t overly cruel, thoug. He always managed to fetch a gift for Jas, wrap it and pretend it was from someone that wasn’t him, always managed to help her set up a little tree in her room, and he always managed to go through the motions of all the traditions his niece knew and loved. Did he like it? No. Did it make him feel any better about any of this? No. Did it make him believe in anything? Hum-fucking-bug. Did he still stomp through the snow in big boots and eat the cookies and drink the milk Jas had set out so she could scream excitedly about Santa’s visit? Yes, but still! – hum-fucking-bug. Shane was huffing and puffing as he walked through Cindersap forest, axe slung over his shoulder and pulling a sleigh behind him. Yet another tradition he didn’t understand. Why the fuck would anyone cut down a tree, just to put it up, decorate it and then throw it out again? And why was he the one that needed to do it? For fuck’s sake. He grumbled, heavy boots sinking into the snow as he trudged on. Marnie had told him her and Jas had found a tree that was just perfect, and that they had marked it with a cross in the snow for him – “you will find it so easily!”. Yeah, right. The skies had already started to darken when he had gotten off work, and the forest didn’t necessarily increase his sight. But no, it had to be done right this instant. “What if it snows, Shane!” Marnie had asked, accompanied by his niece’s puppy dog eyes. “Fuck this bullshit,” he hissed, rubbing his gloved hand over his face. All the trees looked the fucking same, what the fuck could make one perfect? Besides, would they really notice if he picked any other tree? Knowing his niece, she probably would. Which meant Shane trudged on, pulling the wooden sleigh, carrying his axe. He had almost given up when finally something caught his eye, a cross, sloppily drawn in the snow. “Fuckin’ finally,” Shane hissed, letting the head of the axe drop in the snow, rounding the tree to find the perfect spot for the first whack. He eyed the tree – and for the life of him, he couldn’t fucking figure out what made it “perfect” – then shrugged. He would get it down either way he decided, lifting the axe, making his back muscle tense up, bicep flexing before he made the first blow, strong enough to make his upper body vibrate. The tree shook, making a load of snow drop off a branch, hitting the dark-haired man right on the head. “What the actual fuck is this fucking shit-whacking bullshit, I fucking HATE fucking whatever this fucking is!” He hollered, dropping the axe, trying to shake the snow off of his beanie and coat, but he still ended up with some melting down his hairy back. “FUCK! Feast on my big, fat, DICK you stupid winterstar!”

The string of curses didn’t let up as he picked up the axe again, an aggressive blow being delivered to the tree trunk, one that had made his whole body tense and shake as the energy was released. Just as he lifted the tool a third time, though, did he hear a sound over the strings of fuck’s and shit’s. Had he just heard steps? It had sounded like it, but when he looked over his shoulder, he saw nothing but…trees. He rose a brow, then shrugged his broad shoulders once more, cussing again when he felt the cold on his back again. The third blow was more precise than the angry one from before, landing in that edge he had hit into the tree the first time. Finally, it seemed he was getting somewhere- “’Scuse me,” a tiny voice suddenly asked, making him twirl around, almost stumbling. “Holy FUCK, what the hell?” He snapped, axe held in front of his chest, blinking against the growing shadows. He let his head tilt slowly when he saw the silhouette that looked… human. But- What was that on its head? He leaned forward a little more, but it turned out that he didn’t need to. The figure stepped out of the shadows slowly, approaching him with a sweet smile on her lips. “Are you Shane?”

Usually, Shane would have had an impromptu answer for things like this – “fuck the fuck off and leave me alone” was his personal favourite, not kind, but effective – but something had caught his attention. Those ears definitely weren’t human, way too long and twitchy. And the last time he had checked, humans didn’t have fucking antlers. Was he drunk? He had had one beer, hadn’t he? Yeah. He hadn’t had time to drink yet. So why was this fucking girl wearing antlers? “The fuck?” He asked, brows furrowing in a frown. “Why do you know my name? And why the HELL are you wearing antlers? Are you one of those seasonal freaks from Joja? Fuck right off where you came from.” Another usually – usually, people would frown, or just laugh awkwardly and walk away, the most unusual thing that had happened to him was someone daring to show him the finger. Asides from Sam, of course. Sam, ever the stubborn- he was getting off topic. This…person…didn’t follow his “usually” either. You just smiled softly at him, ears twitching as you stepped closer. “I am not wearing antlers, I have antlers.” “Yeah, right, and my dick is a snow cone. Want a lick before you piss off?” Honestly, it was getting cold, making the snow cone comment not as unbelievable as he had hoped, but like hell he would tell…you. “That does actually sound quite pleasant.” Again, Shane’s brows furrowed almost automatically. You were definitely taking the piss, and he didn’t even fucking know you. “Fuck off, I am fucking busy, too busy to play with a furry.” This time, a laugh left your lips, a sound that sounded like bells chiming softly, so clear and warm that it made his facial features soften a little. “Beings like me are called a hybrid, Shane,” you told him, snow crunching under your boots as you stepped closer. Shane blinked at you like he had done before, his fingers wrapping tighter around the handle of the axe. “Yeah, right. Stop shitting me and finally leave me alone. Ya see that I am fuckin’ busy, don’tcha? Or do “beings like you” have piss poor eyesight?” Yet again, no irritation, no confusion, not even a flash of a negative emotion could be seen on your face, he was met with nothing but another of those pretty laughs. And why did it make his heart beat faster? “Why are you doing this?” “Doin’ what?” “Cutting down a tree, Shane.” Crunching snow. You had taken another step, and Shane could almost make out your features now. “’Cause it’s fuckin’ normal, unlike runnin’ ‘round a damned forest, pretending to be a deer and snoopin’ round-” “Reindeer, if you please.” “What-fucking-ever. Runnin’ ‘round like a rein-…Wow, you really ARE takin’ the piss, huh? Who paid you enough to be like this?” Twitch. How did you manage to get those ears to twitch? “I thought you didn’t like the holidays.” “I fuckin’ don’t.” “Then why are you cutting down a tree for the festivities?” Holy shit. Poor Shane had to take a deep breath now, trying to regain control over his thoughts, just to end up…irritated when a different scent than just foresty musk hit his nose. Cinamon? Why did the air smell like cinnamon and cookies now? “Because- uh…,” he had to clear his throat, the sweetness in the air making his throat run dry in a way that led him to stumble over his words, “how the fuck- uh- how the hell would you know it’s for that? Maybe I need it as fire-“ “You always stock up way before winter, Shaney.” Shaney? What the hell was happening here- Snow was crunching again, and finally, you were close enough for him to see you, and Yoba, even Shane could admit that you were drop-dead gorgeous. Not that he would say it out loud-

You gave him a smile, one that was just as soft as your laugh had been, long lashes fluttering up at him. It was hard for him to take his eyes off your face, but your antlers caught his attention. What horrified him, though, was that they seemed to be real. “They are pretty, aren’t they? You can touch them, I don’t mind,” you offered, voice soft, eyes shining up at him with a soft glimmer. Like hell he would touch some antlers. He would turn around now and go home, cut that tree down tomorrow. Fuck this shit- “But what really turns me on is when you touch my ears.” Shane’s eyes fell back on you almost immediately, taking in your face again. You were still smiling, all soft and patient, although he did believe to see a hint of a grin underlying that carefully constructed surface. “The fuck do you want?” He asked, a little breathless now. “Me? Oh, nothing, Shaney,” you hummed, leaning a little closer, allowing Shane to hear the soft chime of bells – real bells. His grey eyes snapped down, breath hitching in his throat when he saw your outfit – you were wearing nothing more than a red and white striped skirt, a small green shirt, and a red harness that was laced bells. How the hell had you managed to not freeze to death- “I just want to…You know,” you added on, your hands now on his shoulders, “make you feel a little more festive. Can’t have you gloom around like the last few years now, can I?” You cooed, and something about it just made his cock twitch in his pants. He swallowed down the knot that had begun to form in his throat. Why was he keeping up with this? A crazy-ass bitch, pretending to be a hybrid was standing in front of him, babbling stupid, albeit true, shit and he was taking it. He could just step away and walk home. Tell them it was too dark to find the tree. Prove him wrong, Marnie. But something kept him standing still. Something made his fingers twitch, feeling a dire need to touch those soft looking ears. “Tempting, aren’t they? You can touch, I promise…Would it maybe help you if I called you master?” Yoba, how had you known? Fuck, had you felt his cock twitch just now? He fucking hoped not, even tried to shift his hips away to get some space between them and you. “Oh!~ So you do like being called master. And I am happy to oblige,” you added on, lowering your head, silently offering your ear. And Shane couldn’t believe it, but he reached out. Even took off his gloves to slowly wrap his fingers around the fluffy, sensitive things. He had expected this to be something you were messing about as well, some weird prank, but the sound that left you proved him wrong. So, so wrong.

It sounded so sweet, your little moan. So honest, so warm, vibrating in his ears, hitting a spot he usually kept hidden away so carefully. “That feels good, master,” you sighed, pushing your head in his touch, bringing him face to face with a pair of rather impressive antlers. If Shane had taken a closer look now, he would have noticed that these things most definitely weren’t fake, but the old grump was much too busy to press down on those fuzzy ears, feeling them twitch under his warm hands, hearing that angelic moan again. This time the vibrations didn’t die down in his ears, they went through his whole body, crawled down his spine, making his pudgy dick throb in his pants. Yoba, in every other situation he would have barked at you to get right the fuck off, but you made something in his stomach set ablaze, clawing dangerously at Shane’s otherwise rather simple emotional palette, awakening a need in him he had barely ever felt in the last few years. Again, something the man would have never admitted, but it was true – with how often he had been drunk or depressed, okay, cross that, he had been both more often than not, he had barely been in the mood to do put up with his body in any other way than stuffing it with food or filling it with alcohol. But right now, he could feel his girthy dick throb numbly with your little moans, could feel his breathing growing heavier whenever those little bells chimed as you tried to lean even closer, sighing at the surprisingly sweet massage Shane’s thick fingers delivered.

Shane could not help himself, his eyes moved down your body rather shamelessly. Taking in your tits, the leather of the halter pressing down on them in a way that made his Adam’s apple bob with a thick swallow, took in the way your skirt hugged the plush of your hips, the way it allowed itself to flow down to your mid-thigh to just…stop, revealing long, strong looking legs. Shane’s cock dared to throb again, and he could feel himself harden in his pants, greedy for the dish that offered itself so openly. He would have been ashamed if it hadn’t been so long, and if you had stopped looking at him so prettily. But no, you seemed to melt under his gentle touch, letting out these sounds that made his mind whirr, smiling at him oh so sweetly. He just had to, just had to let his hands slip from your ears, trace down your neck with his thumbs. You didn’t seem to mind, allowing yourself to openly break out in goosebumps, a moan of his name leaving your lips. Fuck, if he hadn’t started hardening before, he surely was now. Fat cock throbbing to life in his pants, vein on the underside of his dick pulsing. But he could hold back still, still unsure, not quite knowing what was happening, and yet he was caught in a daze, one that had his mouth completely dry, and his throat tied into knots, it seemed. Still, his hand had kept wandering, fingertips coming in contact with the cold leather hugging your tits so nicely, making you chuckle quietly. “Looks pretty, doesn’t it?” You breathed, hot breath turning into a cloud as it left your mouth, leaving Shane wanting to swallow it down, his eyes following its slow disappearance with a hint of greed in them. “You know,” you suddenly breathed, fuzzy ears twitching, beautiful eyes looking up at him, and if he wasn’t completely dumb, he was pretty sure he was seeing a glint of mischief in them, “I am not wearing any panties. Thought it to be unnecessary today.”

The way you had said it was cheerful and bright, as if you were singing a happy little tune – and yet it made something within Shane snap. Large hands balling to a fist just to open up again, he grabbed your face and brought it close to his, pressing those chapped lips of his against your soft ones, ignoring the soft tingle jingle that came with the abrupt movements. You seemed to giggle against his lips, willingly parting your own to his lapping tongue, allowing the wet muscle to enter your mouth, moaning greedily when you felt him suck on yours. It seemed like you had gotten him somewhere with this, and it made your heart jump in your chest, especially when you felt a pair of hands wandering down your body, pinching and groping at what they could grasp until they found their new home on your hips, using the leverage to finally pull you into his body. You would have urged him on a little more, really, you would have! The way his tongue licked and sucked yours didn’t make it an easy task, though, and the fact that you were enjoying the deep, rather rough kiss much less so. Teeth clattered against teeth, and his scruff was scratching your face. Not that you minded, quite the opposite. The small sting made you feel all warm. Not even when Shane pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, were you able to formulate a sentence. You were turned around and pushed against the tree behind you much too quickly – for a man of his size, he moved rather fast, didn’t he? -, your hands finding stable rescue on its bark. “No panties, huh?” Shane snarled, his voice having adopted a deep tone, one that sounded like gravel being grounded under heavy boots, and holy spirits, did it make you shudder. “No, master. Do you perhaps want to check?” You asked, your lip being dragged between your teeth as you arched in your back, pushing your behind backward. There was a short silence, as frosty as the air that was lingering between the two of you. You would have turned your head a little to see the man again, but your antlers were scraping against the tree you were holding on to for support, catching in low hanging branches, leaving you in a rather hopeless position. “M-master?” You asked instead, shifting your hips again. A big paw was still resting between your shoulder blades, holding you in place, which meant he hadn’t just upped and left, which was assuring. You could hear snow crunch under his boots as he shifted, a sound your sensitive ears picked up with ease. You looked downward, seeing Shane’s knee coming up, pressing right into your crotch. Your ears folded backward, a small gasp leaving your lips. You had started getting wet already, and his movement had caught you by surprise, leaving you a little breathless. “How ‘bout you spread your fuckin’ legs f’me then? Bet ya can do that, with the way you’ve been runnin’ your slutty mouth. Right?” The way your heartbeat picked up was probably pretty unhealthy, your legs spreading open until you could feel Shane’s knee comfortably press against your crotch. “Like this?” You asked, bells tingling again as you shifted them open just a little further. What you hadn’t expected was a hand to pinch your side, tickling another moan out of you. “What was that? Thought we agreed on somethin’,” his voice snarled, making you swallow down an aroused chuckle. You hadn’t necessarily agreed on something, but you were way too happy to obey than to correct him. “Yes, master, I apologize. Is this good, master?” You asked, biting your lip yet again when you felt one of his thick fingers slide up your neck, just to run back down, down your spine, hooking in the harness and giving it a rough tug.

The jingle tingle jingle was a well-known noise to you, but in this context, it did nothing but excite you, your little cunt had already started to become wet when Shane had slowly allowed himself to fall into you, but him shifting into this new role did a lot more to you than you could have ever expected. "You can spank me, too, master, if that’s what you’d enjoy,” you suddenly breathed, trying to push your further back – a weak attempt to find the heat that was radiating from Shane’s crotch, but only finding yourself press more against his knee, making you whine out loud.

The dark-haired man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he watched you, his lower lip bitten as his chest heaved and fell rather quickly. You were so willing, so easy, and so greedy at the same time. Having a knee pressed against your cunt and still searching for his cock. It was no surprise that his free hand was pawing at his dick through his pants, giving it a few rough tugs as he watched you squirm under the pressure of his hand. You had seemingly found out that pushing back against him felt good, because that searching little hump had turned into you rutting your greedy cunt into his knee. Shane hadn’t allowed you to do so, though, had he?

His hand left his cock, instead gripping your ass through your skirt. The sound you gave was surprised, but definitely aroused as well. Your eats were folded toward him, another sign that Shane was happily ignoring in favour of letting his open palm smack down on your ass. “I didn’t fuckin’ allow you to touch yourself, did I, you greedy fuckin’ thing?” “N-no, master,” you breathed, voice shaky with the pleasurable sting spreading through your body. And Yoba, there came another one, harder than the first one, and even though the blow was softened ever so slightly by your little skirt, it still made the skin on your ass burn – his hand was big, and Shane was strong from all his work in the warehouse, despite the gut he had put on from drinking too much alcohol and eating food that was way too unhealthy. He simply wasn’t one to be underestimated.

The third smack was just as hard as the second one, landing on the exact same, stinging spot as the other two did, forcing your hands to curl against the tree, the excitement that had been bubbling inside of you having grown to something else, something bigger, something way more lustful, something way more… needing. “I am sorry, master!” You moaned out, the quiver in your voice being joined with the jingling of your bells. “Will hold still now, master!” You promised, eyes squeezing shut when you felt another smack increasing the stinging sensation on your ass. “’S’that so?” “Yes, sir!” “That’s what I like to hear,” Shane sighed. Shit, he was hard. Hard and throbbing in his pants, cock begging to be freed from its confines, to drool its fat globs of pre out in the open. First, he had to check something, though. His hand slowly soothed over your ass as it was wandering down to the hem of your skirt, long-cold fingers fetching the fabric to flip your skirt upward, and what he was met with made him groan out loud. It was a deep sound, one coming from his belly. A primal, needy one, one that made your whole body feel like it was set on fire. “You really aren’t wearing any panties,” he breathed, making you shake your head. “I am not, sir.” “And you have a tail.” “I do, sir.” “What happens when I- shit, your cunt’s clenchin’ ‘round nothin’, ya like that? Yeah? Like when I tug on your tail?” He asked, fingers still wrapped around the fluffy tinsel, giving it another tug. If he could have only seen your face, mouth hanging open as if you were about to moan, eyes squeezing shut. What he did see, though, was your pretty cunt, busying itself with clenching around nothing whenever he gave just a teeny tiny tug.

“And you are so wet already, too…Fuckin’ hell, aren’tcha a dirty lil whore, huh?” The attempt to answer was interrupted by the silent moan that had been stuck in your throat finally escaping when you could feel a cold finger trace through your hot, wet cunt. “What is it, reindeer? Ain’t gonna talk to me anymore? Brain already shut off?” you shook your head from side to side, desperately attempting to find the words needed to formulate an appropriate answer, but Shane’s finger slowly circling your twitchy little hole kept pushing them just out of reach. Besides, it already took way too much out of you to not just push back, urge that finger that tapped your cunt’s entrance with mean temptation deep inside of you. Lucky little reindeer girl, because Shane seemed to have just about enough mercy for you to let the tip of his middle finger dip inside your gushy hole. It was just enough to brush that itch you felt burning within you, just enough to make you sigh out, but you. Needed. More.

Your tail was shaking from side to side as Shane teased your pussy, thumb tapping at your clit with cruel curiosity, grey eyes taking in the way your body trembled whenever he did. You were so wet already, taking in his finger with such ease that he needed to swallow thickly, mental image of his cock buried to the hilt inside that warm, pretty, slutty hole popping up in front of his inner eye. God, he needed that. And yet, he couldn’t just give that to you, could he? “Still didn’t hear ya. Maybe I should just…stop,” he breathed, his hand already threatening to pull away. That was when you were able to snap into motion, shaking your head quickly, the frantic tingling of your harness only underlining your despair. “No! Sir, no, please! Please, I- I need you!” “What was that?” He asked, the tug on your harness squishing your tits together almost uncomfortably, adding to the feeling of being about to burst. “I need you, Sir! Pretty, pretty, please!” The snap against your ass and the tug against the harness made your eyes roll, body trembling for more. “Dirty fuckin’ slut. I don’t know ‘bout all this hybrid shit, but I do fuckin’ know ya are a desperate little whore. Nothin’ but a cum dump, isn’t that right? Comin’ up to me to be filled?” You were breathing heavily, ears’ twitching signalling that you were listening. It was true, all of it was true. You wanted to be filled by him, you couldn’t wait to be filled by him. Cunt so painfully wet that you were pretty sure you could feel some of your juices run down the inside of your thighs, body so reactive that even the brush against your tail made your head spin.

Smack. That one had been a hard one, one that made your body jerk forward, one that made you stumble to collect your words yet again. “Yes, sir! Nothing more but a cum dump for you! Can’t wait to please your cock, master!” That was what you had planned to say, at least. Your words came out way more slurred in the form of a whimper, mumbled under your breath as you tried to recollect your last braincells that weren’t busy focusing on you being a cock-hungry slut. Shane himself had trouble focusing. The cold air stung on his cheeks, but he was too focused on you to really notice. The way his hand kept your back arched in, the way you yourself greedily pushed back to expose your cunt further. There was no way he could resist, no way he could stop his hand to unbuckle his belt with that heavy clink, no way he could stop himself from messily removing his painfully hard dick from its tight confines, grunting when the pudgy head smacked against his winter coat. Not to toot his own horn, but Shane’s size was admirable – his dick being the only few things about himself that he had liked, and even that body part of him had been barely functioning. A considerable size as to not say big, with a pudgy, fat head, readily leaking pre-cum that ran down the girthy shaft. He considered you with a sharp look in his eyes, hand pinching at the bottom of his cock before, thoughtfully smacking it against your hole, grinning to himself at the way you twitched, as if your cunt begged for him to finally fill it up. Shane wasn’t cruel, however, his hand leaving his cock again, reaching around you and holding his palm out under your mouth. You looked down at him it in slight confusion, ears twitching again. “Ma-master?” “Spit,” he ordered. That was a request you didn’t need to hear twice; you pursed your pretty lips as you collected a fat glop of spit, readily letting it fall from your mouth onto his hand. The groan that could be heard from behind your back made your tail wag from side to side, heart pounding in your chest, especially when a soft praise followed: “That’s a good girl.” Shane’s hand left her back to rub your ear momentarily, his other hand busying itself slowly running down his shaft, coating his fat cock in your spit, rubbing over the tip and pulling down to make your saliva and his pre-cum mix together in a dirty makeshift lube. “You, uh-“ “Fuck me,” you whispered, your voice a little quieter than intended. Your antlers still made it impossible for you to look over your shoulder, but you were more than willing to spread your legs wider. “Shit, you are a fuckin’ slut,” he laughed, a sound that made your heart jump, laughing with him, albeit yours sounded a lot wobblier.

The heat between your legs made it impossible to think clearly, and his hands, oh, his hands. The one on your ear had started wandering again, exploring your body with rough grabs and gropes. Big palm pressing against your tit, giving it a smack and a squeeze, before a thumb gently rolled over the hardened nipple. It would have almost distracted from his trip pressing against your drippy hole, but the moment he pushed onward, all of your attention was focused on the sensation between your legs. “Oh, ohohohoh!” You babbled, head falling back. Shane felt like his heart was about to explode – your cunt was stunningly warm, gummy walls hugging around his tip in a way that brought him close to just mounting you, bottoming out inside of you with just one thrust. It was tempting, really, filling you to the hilt, stuffing you full of cock just like this. Instead, his hand found that ear again, pressing a gentle massage into it, praising lowly. “Thaaat’s a good slut. Look at you, already suckin’ off my dick, good girl. Gonna move a lil more, okay? Gonna stretch that lil pussy open, that’s fuuuckin’ it, take it.” His cock was honestly aching with despair, with the need to be wrapped up and suffocated by her walls, the dark-haired man’s brain completely shut off as he watched his dick vanish inside her cunt, centimetre by centimetre. And the sounds. Yoba, the sounds you made. They were heavenly. Whiney gasps, breathy moans, begging whimpers, all tumbling out of your mouth freely as he bucked forward. He was about halfway in when he finally gave you a break, your eyes swimming in tears at the unusual size filling your cunt. “Good girl,” he praised again, kissing your shoulder blade carefully. “Think you can take it all, huh? Want me to fill you up nicely, little whore?” Yoba, yes, you wanted him to fill you to the brim. Fuck you senseless, use you however he pleased. His size made your eyes roll as you moved, gasping his name out in the cold night air, leaving it there to be carried away by a gust of wind. His cock was throbbing against your walls, pulsing with each clench your pussy gave in an attempt to adjust. You were struggling, the stinging sensation mixing with pleasure in a way you hadn’t expected it to, leading you to allow yourself to push back against him. “Need more, huh? Cunt’s not full enough yet? Pathetic,” he growled, his façade cracking with how quickly he was obeying, pushing in further, making your cunt take him, until he finally was balls-deep inside of you. Your jaw was hanging open again, fingernails digging in the bark of the tree. You were pretty sure you could feel each and every pulse that went through him in your whole body with how full you felt. “Pussy stretched fuckin’ thin now? That’s what ya like? Filled up like this, pinned against a stupid tree? Wish I could see your face right now, lil reindeer. Bet you look absolutely, deliciously stupid.” And you did. Really, you did. A small drop of spittle hung by the corner of your mouth, your eyes were glazed over with nothing short of dumb pleasure, pretty lashes fluttering when Shane started moving. He moved slowly at first, only pulling back a little and thrusting back in with a considerate stroke.

“Relax for me, babe- that’s it, that’s fuckin’ it. Gushin’ ‘round my cock like that, needy fuckin’ thing- fuck, ya feel so good,” he sighed, his hips moving faster, fucking into you with more vigour now, trying to get more of those delicious sounds out of you. The bells on your harness jingled dutifully as Shane fucked into you from behind, his pace fastening with each thrust. Oh, how you loved it. Moaning his name shamelessly, gasping whenever it rewarded you a hard smack on the ass, switching back to master, just to slip up again. Being taken against a tree like this was new to you, and if a reindeer hybrid like you had a wish to make, you would have wished for this to never end. Cock stretching you thin, pounding whatever frustrations Shane had into you – and you were happy to take it, especially when he leaned in to praise you so filthily. “Hear that? Hear how your whore cunt is takin’ me? Messy lil slut, holy shit. Good fuckin’ girl.” You swallowed him up so well, cunt complaining with a squelching sound when he pulled back, just to greet him with another sloppy wet sound when he fucked back into you, balls smacking mercilessly against your skin with the rough fucks he was giving you. The pale skin on your ass had started to redden from the cold, but if he looked closely, he could make out the shape of his fingers. Fuck, you took him so well, it should have been illegal. “Like that? Like bein’ fucked against a tree? Ohhhooo, you clenchin’ up again – must be lovin’ it. Twitchy fuckin’ pussy,” he hissed, pelvis smack, smack, smacking into your ass as he took you just how he pleased. The hard, bullying thrusts had turned your brain to complete mush. The cold winter air had no chance against the warmth you felt prickling on your skin, radiating from an ever-consuming heat pooling within you. “Ma-mahaster!” You cried out, making Shane groan lowly. “Feelin’ good, whore? Cunt’s pounded good? Shit, you’re so good f’me, fuckin’ love this pussy.”

A particular rough snap was bullied into you before he began to snap his hips fast again, the string of moans leaving your lips only urging him to push you further, push you closer to the edge. His hand smacked your ass, this time the other cheek, tearing a sob from you, cold skin being forced to heat up with a stinging sensation. “Play with your tits for me,” Shane hissed, his balls feeling painfully tight. If his brain had been any clearer, he would have been surprised that he wasn’t completely out of breath yet, but something about you, cross that, everything about you made it just so easy for him. You felt so full, so hot, and so, so fucking close. Your orgasm was so, so close, making the hand that was pinching and grabbing at yourself shaky, your eyes rolling, legs twitching. “Sh-shane-“ You began, gasping out loud as he picked up one of your legs, pushing it forward, seemingly hitting impossibly deeper. The words that had been on your tongue had tumbled back down your throat, burning in that pit of hot lava in your stomach that threatened to overtake you, your head falling back, almost hitting the relentless man with your antlers. Shane let out a breathless chuckle, the grunts and groans that had been leaving him barely allowing him to hear your sentence, but the way your body was beginning to twitch and shiver was enough. His fingers found your clit, arm awkwardly wrapped around your hip to reach between your legs, rubbing that little bundle of nerves, smacking his lips together to try and regain his ability to speak. “Ya gonna cum for me? That’s it? Pretty cunt’s gonna spill all over me? Fuckin’ do it. Cum for me, baby, want to have it all.”

You could do nothing but nod, and nod you did. Frantically, bells jingling as your hips fucked back against the rough thrusts that would for sure leave you behind sore, and you would relish the fact that you were. Your breathing came out in short puffs, moans all high pitched as your back arched in, your hand wrapping around the wrist of his hand that was rubbing your clit, a sobbed cry of his name announcing your orgasm that knocked the air right out of your lungs. “Fuhuckkkk, holy fuckin’ shit,” Shane moaned, his other hand wrapping around your stomach to pull you closer, ignoring the feeling of antlers bumping against his head. He needed you close, and he needed you to be close right now as you were creaming around his cock. “Good girl! Perfect girl, fuck! That’s it – cum for me. Cream around me- You are gonna make me cum, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he gasped, babbling some more lewd curses as he thrusted into you, holding you as close to himself as he possibly could. His breathing became ragged as he neared his orgasm, making your ears perk, even in the dazed state of mind your orgasm had left you in. Your free hand reached back, finding the back of his neck, fingers curling in the strands of hair you could find, giving a small tuck. “Nee-need you to- cum,” you drooled, weakly pushing back your hips.

The dark-haired man could feel his hips stutter, feeling like an invisible hand wrapped around his throat as something inside of him finally snapped. He bucked forward, pressing you against him as ropes of cum started to shoot from his dick, low groan leaving him. The feeling of being filled like this, so snugly pressed against him, it did something to you. Something that made the tears that had filled your eyes finally spill, something that made you want this to never end.

Shane was quivering behind you as he weakly bucked his hips forward, milking his dick with the help of your pussy just like he had milked your cunt – to be honest, he was desperate to fill you up as much as he could, fill you up enough for you to feel it for as long as possible. But, years of alcoholism and depression finally caught up to him, making his hips quiver to a halt, head bumping against your shoulder as he greedily sucked in a lungful of air. And that’s how you were standing there, wrapped in the darkness of the forest, dick stuffed in your cum-filled cunt. How you loved this feeling already. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been standing there like this, but at some point, Shane started to feel the cold settling in, biting at his skin with icy fangs. And even though he would have known a billion other things he would have preferred, he slowly began pulling out, snapping you out of that haze. “Fuck,” he breathed, making you finally turn your head as crunching snow indicated steps turning away. Shane had picked up his messily discarded gloves before slowly returning to you. “Might pinch a lil now, but I don’t know what else I could use,” he explained. You were watching him in confusion as he leaned down, gasping out loud when the rough material of the glove touched your raw cunt. “Sorry, baby. Just need to clean ya up a lil, can’t let ya- there we go, relax for me,” he murmured, dabbing at you oh so carefully. Each contact made you twitch, but his gentle care which posed such a stark contrast to the demeanour from before – you didn’t have the heart to tell him that this would be no problem at all for you. “There, a little better,” he murmured, adjusting your skirt before giving his dick a rather quick swipe before he slowly zipped himself up again. Suddenly, a realization seemed to hit him.

“Those antlers are real.” “Yes, they are.” “That…tail, too?” “Yes.” “And the ears?” You twitched them in response, giving Shane a bright, albeit tired smile. “All real.” “And you…why are you…” “You see,” you smiled bells jingling their soft tune as you approached him, “I’ve heard you say humbug one time too many, and decided to give you a little holiday spirit.” Shane’s brow furrowed again, his mouth opening again to respond- “Nu-uh. You can’t deny this, I am real, and it’s not exactly normal to fuck a hybrid in the forest around the holidays, is it?” At that, his mouth snapped shut, making you giggle and pat his chest. “There, there. This was a fun little present, after all, wasn’t it?” Shane swallowed the knot in his throat as your cold hand touched his cheek. “And I know you have it in you.” “What else do you fuckin’ think ya know?” “That you just gave me the best fuck of my life.” His jaw clicked as he snapped it shut again, making you giggle again. You picked up the axe that Shane had oh so carelessly dropped before, placing it in his hands. “Do I need to- uh. Bring you somewhere?” A laugh left your lips, bright as a bell and as warm as a cozy fireplace. “No, Shane. I have found you with ease, and I will find home with even more ease. Don’t you worry.” “And…uh- will I see you again?” he couldn’t believe he was asking this- “That depends.” “On what?” “If you are on the naughty or nice list.” You gave him a smile; a sweet kiss being placed on his scruffy cheek.

Shane was left stunned as he heard the snow crunch under your boots, crunch, crunch, crunch. He watched after you, legs denying their services – it was like he was frozen to the ground. Shane blinked to let his eyes adjust better, but when he opened them again, you were gone. The fuck? There was no way you could have vanished so quickly! He dropped the axe again, quick steps through snow following the footsteps that you had left behind, just for them to…slowly disappear.

Shane was left standing in the forest, with no trace of you left behind. Had he just dreamed all of this? Pussy-starved, holiday-hating brain coming up with a dirty fantasy while he tried to cut down a tree? Was he going fucking crazy? He rubbed over his head, pressed his fingers against his eyelid. Maybe he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the past few days? But why the fucking hell did he feel that cozy sleepiness he always felt after an orgasm? He looked into the direction he had seen you go in once more before slowly returning to his axe. Walked to the tree he had held you against, but there was nothing but his own footprints. Fuck, had he been manic or some shit? He swallowed thickly, running his fingers over the tree bark where he had been pretty sure your slender fingers had found support. Shit, he was going crazy. He decided it was time to fetch the axe and go home, sleep it off. But as he walked, he heard a sound. Soft and all clear. Warm and bright. It reminded him of something, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He took another step forward, just to hear the gentle sound again. His hands automatically reached in his pocket, just for his fingers to wrap around something smooth and cold. He pulled his hand back, opening it to find a bell resting in the palm of his hand, still cool from the night air, reflecting whatever little moonlight had fought its way through the trees. He shook it gently, eliciting a soft jingle tingle jingle, making a smile appear on his lips. Well, he guessed there was a reason to get on the nice list now. Or at least the nicer list. While Shane made his way home, the “perfect” tree was resting on the sleigh, and the old grump even hummed a light and soft song – “Jingle Bells”.

45 notes · View notes

hd-erised · 1 day ago

Text

We are over halfway through @hd-erised—isn't that exciting? It's been another fantastic week filled with art and fic and, as always, we hope you've been enjoying the fabulous submissions!

We hope you'll take a moment to check out anything you might have missed this week, and don't forget to check our Week 1 and Week 2 round-ups for even more goodies. And, of course, please don't forget to leave a comment for our lovely artists and writers who make this fest the incredible experience that it is!! <3

Art:

Unemployed and On Guard for @makeitp1nk [T]

No One but Me for justlikewriting [M]

Fic:

Second Chance Resort for @elizah321[E, ~42,800]

A holiday forced on him by his friends after the latest in a long string of failed relationships might be a chance for Harry to relax, but all that is thrown up in the air by the appearance of one newly divorced Draco Malfoy. Mainly because they had been together almost fifteen years ago before Draco broke it off to marry the woman his mother chose for him… Feat. a matchmaking hotel, a spa day, an all-knowing Weasley, and friends who do try their best, but can get a little distracted.

Seven-and-sixpence for @oknowkiss [E, ~35,700]

The entire plan of Harry’s life had been defeat evil, become an Auror, marry Ginny. Not necessarily in that order, but it seemed to be going that way, the first two managed and the third in easy limbo. He can be better, though. He can be more. Draco will see to it.

Slip Slidin’ Your Way (In a Land of Fire and Ice) for @frm9pm [T, ~9,800]

How does a war-scarred young wizard recuperate and create a new identity? Harry opens himself to the magic of the land. Draco learns to wonder at the humblest of creatures. Years later, Magigeologist Evan Jameson and Malacologist Derek Black begin an enthusiastic correspondence. They’re in for a shock when they finally meet. Or: Science nerds go to Iceland and fall in love. Or: Why should kelp have all the fun?

Pillar of Salt for @agentmoppet [E, ~62,200]

From the lake in the Room of Hidden Things, Draco knows three things: 1. Mirror universes exist, and he’s going to find the best one—the one where he did the right thing. 2. Harry Potter and him are awfully cosy in some of these other universes, whereas Potter in real life is starting to act very odd around him indeed. 3. Draco’s reflection—the mirror version of him, the worst version of him—seems to be growing crueler. And stronger.

Prescription for @fantalfart [G, ~2,600]

Draco couldn't say he hated his job, not really. In fact, he loved it⁠—and wasn't that something surprising, a Malfoy being a Healer, when most of them hadn't worked a day in their lives?—and most of all, he loved knowing that he was helping people heal, above anything else. (And if there was a part of him that craved the normalcy of something that helped instead of what he had been taught to do his entire life? Well. That was between himself and his journal when he remembered to write in it.) (And maybe there was another reason too.)

Old love don't rust for @drarrydoodles [E, ~20,600]

“Why do you keep coming?” Malfoy asked at last. Harry mulled over the question. For a moment he debated trying to turn the tables and asking Malfoy the very same thing. But this time he didn’t want to hold back. “Because I can’t stop,” Harry said.

Equipoise for khalulu [T, ~88,200]

Ten years of peace have settled over the wizarding world, leaving Harry Potter feeling strangely adrift. Teaching Defense at Hogwarts is fine and all, but when mysterious magical blackouts start sweeping across the country, he can't help but jump at the chance to investigate. It would be the perfect outlet for his restless energy - if he didn't suddenly find himself tangled up in an elaborate charade, pretending to date the Prophet's most illustrious journalist, Draco Malfoy. Between hunting down the cause of the blackouts and maintaining their ruse, Harry's beginning to think that peacetime might actually be trickier - and far more surprising - than he'd bargained for.

Victory Lap for @traylalascrisis [E, ~4,700]

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to eat first.” For emphasis, he pinches the skin at my waist. I want to cover myself in him. I want to roll in him like a dog. I want to devolve on top of him. And he wants me to sit nicely and use a knife and fork first?

#drarry #drarry fest #drarry fic #drarry art #hp fic #hp art #hp #hd erised 2024 #weekly roundup

44 notes · View notes

eideticmemory · 1 day ago

Text

SCRIBE | SPENCER REID

You: I need someone to document everything I say.

Spencer Reid: Done.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Older!Reader, FamousRealityStar!Reader, Fuckboy!Gradschool!Spencer?? My brand I guess?? PreBAU!Spencer. And smut of course!!!

There is a perpetual knot in your neck. You cannot remember the day you woke up with it, but when doctors ask you about it, you estimate that it’s been there for about two months. Around the time the current season went on air. It is located between the base of your brain and your shoulder blade. It’s hard to raise your right arm too high. It is prominent and sharp at the most inconvenient times and only rests when you are asleep.

Today, it is giving you a migraine. You are slurring your speech in interview from interview, only halfway focused on each person. Each bright eyed, ivy bred, I-Am-The-One candidate with words per minute as high as 290. You are sitting at your desk, elbows resting on the glass as you rub the back of your neck, grimacing.

“Are you having a stroke?” Spencer asks.

“What?”

“Are you having a stroke?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Um…concern?”

“I’m not having a stroke.”

“Oh, okay,” he says. “Good.”

You shake your head, “How many words did you say you can type a minute?”

“Oh, like, on the computer?” he asks. You actually look up at him when he says this and he is chiseled in the face. Leaned back in his seat, his head held up by his hand. “Like…70, maybe?”

You look him dead in the eye and say, “70?”

“Yeah, around there.”

“Around there?”

“Plus or minus 5.”

You take a deep breath and your head hurts. You put both arms on the desk and ask, “What’s your name again?”

“Spencer.”

“Spencer, right,” you nod. “How, exactly, did you make it to the interview round?”

“Oh, I slept with your personal assistant. He’s a fiery little guy.”

And for a second, you think about Luke, you look at this pretty little boy and you think that it is plausible until Spencer says, “Oh, my god. Is that really all I had to do?”

You’re stunned, and you keep having to shake your head because there is no way this interview is happening.

“I have an eidetic memory. I don’t need to type. I just stand there and look pretty. Kinda like what you do.”

“Bite me.”

“Sore spot?”

“Okay, thank you for coming,” you say and you start to get up from your chair. Your head hurts with movement.

“Are you having a stroke?”

You stop in your tracks, you look at him, and with every fiber of your being, you say, “What?”

“Are you having a stroke?” he continues. “Why would you ask me that? Um…concern? I’m not having a stroke. Oh, okay, good. How many words did you say you can type a minute? Oh, like, on the computer? Like…70, maybe? 70? Yeah, around there. Around there? Plus or minus 5. What’s your name again? Spencer. Spencer, right, how, exactly, did you make it to the interview round? Oh, I slept with your personal assistant, he’s a fiery little guy. Oh, my god. Is that really all I had to do? I have an eidetic memory, I just stand there and look pretty, kinda like what you do. Bite me. Sore spot? Okay, thank you for coming.”

You stare at him.

“And the conversation repeats from there,” he nods.

You continue to stare and he says, “I know. It freaks people out. But I thought, hey, a job as a scribe. I’m perfect for that. I’m not that ugly I can be on TV-“

“When can you start?”

“O-oh,” he stutters. “Start? I can start tomorrow.”

You pick up the stack of applicants on your desk and drop them in the trash and tell him, “Luke will show you out.” And you go home to take a nap.

This is the one interaction in your life that was not filmed. Figures. Something of substance, something truly integral to the coming months of your life and it is done in private. How it should be, supposedly.

On Spencer’s first day, you are negotiating with Vogue. Vogue. The crew is there an hour before you. And he has the nerve to show up in sweats. A slutty little shirt with sleeves that cuts off at his elbow. He has prominent blue veins that run down his forearm and he is unbelievably pale today. His hair is disheveled and he walks in with his hands in pockets. Truthfully, there has not been much contact between the two of you, most communications running between him and Luke, who has a massive crush on Spencer.

He’s just so magnetic, Luke says. And the fact that he couldn’t care less is just soooo attractive.

But he’s a dick. He says to you, “You look professional.”

“You look sloppy. Did no one send you a dress code?”

“No, just a tax form.”

You roll your eyes, “Someone needs to dress you,” and with a snap of your fingers, you call, “Marcie!”

“Do you always snap at people like dogs?”

Marcie dresses Spencer in spare clothes. A nice button down and slacks. There are no spare shoes in his size so he has on his sneakers. He is sitting at the meeting room roundtable and from the waist up, he looks a bit more distinguished. He has bags under his eyes that have to be touched up with makeup.

You sit down beside him, because, after all, he is your backup here. He leans over and whispers, “Is every day like this?”

“Every minute, pretty boy, keep up.” You rub the back of your neck.

“Oh,” he smiles at you. “You think I’m pretty?”

You give his question some thought, get nervous when the two of you make eye contact. And then the cameras are rolling.

For most of the meeting, Spencer is leaned back. His eyes flicker from person to person, from camera to camera to you.

His eyes fall on you a lot.

In the weeks to come, he is, surprisingly, good at his job. He submits transcripts at the last minute, and he still hasn’t nailed the A-List dress code, but his work is immaculate. With every day, every week, every month that goes by, there is a new reason not to fire him. There is subtle assurance that you will not find a better scribe, even if you tried.

He comes to your home while the cameras are rolling and winks at Luke, who has to hide his face as he blushes.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him. You are poking around your walk in closet, fabric swatches for your upcoming fashion line splayed across the floor.

“The Elle Magazine meeting? Doesn’t it start soon?”

“Not for another hour,” Luke tells him. He’s giving Spencer this gooey, lovesick smile.

“Well, hey, look at that, I’m never early,” Spencer laughs.

You turn around as he plops down in your loveseat and you groan.

“What?” he asks. “What?”

“Come with me,” you order. You are at your limit. You leave the room and Luke and Spencer look at each other. “Now!” and they hop out of their seats.

Cameras trail behind you all through your massive home. You grab your car keys and Luke asks, “Where are you going?”

“We,” you explain. “Are going to get this boy some new clothes.” You stick your finger in Spencer’s face and he is very tempted to smack it away.

“I don’t need any new clothes,” he says.

And you only reply by looking him up and down. His gym shorts, his white shirt.

“Oh, spare me, little miss I-have-a-new-versace-outfit-for-every-day-of-my-life,” he rolls his eyes. “I dress just fine.”

“No, you don’t,” you tell him, and he crosses his arms over his chest like a child. You look over at the camera crew, “Tell production we’ll be behind two hours.”

Spencer is overwhelmed by paparazzi. He is in utter shock over the way they invade your space, crowding your car before he can even get out the back seat. He pops open the door and a flash goes off his face and he shoves the guy out the way.

“Hey!”

“Get out of the way, dude!” he grumbles.

“I’ll sue!”

“I know [y/n] [y/l/n], I’d like to see you try!”

Luke looks over at you from the passenger seat. His cheeks are red. “Could he be any hotter?”

Spencer has never set foot in any of these stores. GQ, Maxfield, Fred Segal. He is in awe by the size of these stores alone, and even more so by the price tag on everything. Luke takes the lead, strolling through each department, plopping shirts and pants over his forearm in collection. Cameras and faces are pressed against the glass, watching you all like animals in a zoo. The pain in your neck is starting to radiate down your arm and you take every chance you can to sit. You offer comments from the sidelines, watching Luke dress Spencer from head to toe.

Spencer comes out in a polo and khaki pants and says, “I feel stupid.”

“You look amazing,” Luke grins, and he takes this opportunity to touch Spencer. Fix up his collar, smooth out his chest.

And while he may feel stupid, Spencer looks so good. The thought flashes through your mind for just an instant. You’d be blind to ignore it. The black fabric contrasts starkly against his skin. His waist is hugged by the fit and his hair falls into his face just enough that he has to tuck it behind his ear. You do not realize you are staring until he looks at you. His eyes catch yours and you look away.

“Oh, yes,” Luke grins, placing one last touch on Spencer’s shoulders before turning to the sales associate. “This is perfect. Evan, add this to the tab.”

You look back at Spencer and he has not stopped staring at you. He is fixated and holding your gaze. He gives you a small smile and you avert your eyes once again.

You drop five grand on Spencer and he cannot believe it every time you swipe your card. “Holy crap,” he says. “Thanks, sugar mama.”

Luke chuckles and you cut your eyes at him. Security surrounds you as you put shades on and leave the store. Spencer attends the Elle Magazine meeting in the polo and khaki combo. He has a tendency to make people nervous, the way he just sits there and watches and listens. When executives ask about him, you say he’s a scribe and you say nothing more. You’ve asked him to bring a computer, something, to make him appear less crazy, but he is incapable of listening.

“And, so, basically, what we would do, [y/n],” an executive says before clearing his throat. “Is use your image to promote the skincare line and divide those residuals amongst your team with, of course, you taking forty percent off the top.”

“It should be fifty,” Spencer says. Everyone’s eyes cut to him, including yours.

“I’m…” the executive laughs anxiously. “I’m sorry?”

“It should be fifty. [y/n] should be getting fifty off the top.”

“No…no, scribe, I’m pretty sure it’s forty.”

“Really? Hm?” Spencer tilts his head. “Clause 4, paragraph 5 of the contract sent to Miss [y/l/n]: Elle Magazine agrees to distribute remaining residuals amongst the [y/l/n] team, provided a fifty percent split profit between Elle and Miss [y/l/n] as per applicable profits. Now, I don’t have the document with me, but I’m willing to bet that fifty percent that I’m recalling correctly. Y’know, as a scribe and all.”

You take your eyes away from Spencer and turn to the executive who has gone red in the face, “Trying to pull one over on me, Vince?”

Vince sputters, “Of course not, [y/n]. I-I simply misspoke. Um, Eva, can we get an updated transcript to reflect the fifty percent divide, please? Thank you.”

You slowly turn your head back to Spencer, your lips pursed. He winks at you and leans back in his chair, tapping his finger to his forehead, “Eidetic memory,” he whispers.

Business discussions are very rarely filmed from start to finish, but once you exit the meeting room, you wish you hadn’t made an executive exception today. “What the hell were you thinking, dude?” you snap at Spencer.

“They were trying to go over your head. Isn’t that what I’m there for? To make sure contracts you signed are being honored? Why am I in trouble? Vince should be in trouble.”

“Actually, Spencer, that’s not your job. Your job is to sit and listen and document. Did you read the duties in your job description or what?”

“I can list them off the top of my head right now. Attend all relevant business and editorial meetings…”

“Okay, I can’t - I can’t do this right now,” your neck hurts. “Luisa, scrap that footage.”

“No can do,” Your producer responds. “We’re keeping that in.”

“What?” you cut your head to him and wince.

“In fact…” Luisa trails off, stepping closer to you and Spencer. “I think we should shoot the scribe here more often.”

“What?” you and Spencer ask at the same time.

“We’ll chat,” she tells Spencer. “Let’s get you some updated forms, a new NDA, and you’re gonna need some new clothes.”

“This shirt was five-hundred dollars,” Spencer pinches his polo. “What more do you want from me?”

“Luisa!” you interject.

“We’ll chat,” she touches your shoulder and walks off.

You sigh, pinching your neck and rolling your head back.

“You okay?” Spencer asks, reaching in to touch your neck, but you flinch and step back.

“I’m fine,” you snap. “I’m going home.”

“Want me to give you a neck massage?” Spencer asks. “We could add that to my contract.”

But you have professionals for that. You lay on a massage table, your favorite masseuse’s hands on your neck and Luke is standing in the corner, his hands clasped together, going, “Please, [y/n], please, please, please.”

“Lucas!”

“Pleaseeee. He’d be so good.”

“The boy has star power, [y/n],” Luisa chimes in and you groan. “You can’t deny it.”

“Do we have to talk about this right here? Right now?”

“I’m not quite saying we make him a regular. No,” Luisa continues. “But we get a few decent shots over the next few months, start off with that Elle debacle, maybe script a few more business disagreements. Oh, it’s perfect.”

“Why don’t you just offer him his own show?” you mutter.

“Well, y’know, the sexy broody genius thing is not a bad pitch.”

“Oh, he’d be so good!” Luke exclaims.

“Luke,” you sigh. “I’m begging you, just fuck him already.”

“Oh, p…please…like he’s interested?” he chuckles. “Why? Why? Did he say something to you?”

“That’s it!” you pop your head up and your neck cracks and you wince, “Fuck! Out, now!”

Nothing goes without your permission. Nothing is done, nothing is said. Nothing is written, nothing is signed. Spencer knows this. Yet, when he sits down to read and sign a new contract, he looks you dead in the eye and asks, “This is what you want?”

You avert your eyes, rub your neck without thinking.

“[y/n]’s already read over the contract, finalized filming schedules, updated your salary,” Luisa rambles and Spencer only gives her a quick, tired glance and looks back at you.

“This is what you want?” he repeats himself and he stares at you until he catches your eyes.

“Mhm,” you nod. “You’re already on camera enough. It makes sense.”

“It makes sense?”

“It makes sense.”

Spencer scoffs. It’s more of a huff. He glances down at the newly revised contract and shakes his head, “No.”

“No?” Luisa cuts her head to him.

“No,” he says to you. “No. I signed up to be a scribe, not some TV personality. I have classes, I have…goals. No.”

And you don’t say anything. But you look at him and you smile. Just a small smile, but he’s a smart boy and once he sees that smile, he stands. He leaves.

Luisa scoffs as she looks at you, her mouth open in shock. You drop your smile, purse your lips tightly.

You shrug, “It’s a shame I can’t fire him. He really is such a good scribe.”

He is. He knows his job description, he knows it well. He performs nothing more and nothing less. He authorizes the use of any film prior to the ill fated meeting and whenever he works, he thinks about that smile.

Hard as he tries, he can’t go unnoticed. He’s too pretty. Too…nonchalant. He’s not there to make friends, though the crew strikes up conversations when he can. He’s not there to get laid, though pretty girls and boys flock to him when he’s least expecting it. It’s obnoxious. The whole too pretty for the room thing. You don’t actually expect him to show up to the wrap party but he was explicitly invited.

Throughout the festivities, you massage the incessant pressure point on your neck, exhausted from doing nothing at all to put this party in motion. You’re there as a figurehead, an image to be photographed and immortalized. But your neck is fucking killing you. It’s the one thing that can kill the facade very quickly and it’s working overtime. You tuck yourself away in a corner and just across the room, Spencer is leaning against the wall, practically pinned underneath a tall, slender girl who drunkenly fiddles with the top buttons on his shirt. You can see the signs she’s spitting out from a mile away yet you don’t see him rejecting them. He even wraps his long fingers around her wrist and scrunches his nose up at her and whatever he’s saying is so funny that her laugh actually echoes.

With a vocal, ��Ugh,” you roll your eyes and march to the bathroom, a single stall with a crystal mirror and a toilet that somehow sparkles. You splash water on your face and the cold grounds you just a bit. You rub the water into your eyes and press your frozen palm to the back of your neck. Blinking, you reach for a paper towel and press it into your cheekbones. It’s while you’re temporarily blind that you hear the door swing open. You gasp, coming face to face with Spencer who looks the most apologetic you’ve ever seen him.

“Oh! Sorry!” he implores. “Sorry. Thought it was empty.”

“It’s fine.”

He notices the way you lean on the sink, your head ducked down like you’re avoiding eye contact, so he naturally asks, “You alright?”

“Fine. I’ll get out of your way.”

But when you go to exit, he steps in front of you. “Woah,” His arms reach out to caress your shoulders but he stops himself so his hands hover over you. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Nothing,” you shake your head. “Clearly you’re having a good time so don’t worry about me.”

His eyebrows raise and furrow in such rapid sync with his confusion that his face eventually just falls flat. “Yeah…the fancy spring water is a real rager…”

“And all the girls.”

“What…” he stumbles, he laughs, “The…brunette?”

“Oh, that’s what you call her? It looked like you were already on a first name basis.”

“Her name’s Erica,” he shrugs. “But it wasn’t relevant to our conversation.”

“Oh, well, then, please. You and Erica carry on. Just avoid the vertical dry humping.”

“Oh, the…” he dissolves into chuckles. “You’re exaggerating.”

“It was pornographic.”

“And why does that bother you so much?”

It’s the first thing to actually throw you off guard because you don’t have an answer. So you shrug, “It doesn’t.”

“You sure?” he takes a step closer to you. “I don’t remember a no flirting, no dry humping and no sex clause in my contract.”

“Um, actually, it kinda is in your contract. It’s about the image.”

“The image? There’s people sniffing coke out there!”

“It’s tacky. It’s a PR nightmare.”

“Is it?” he takes another step and you instinctively step back even though he smells so good. “I mean, is that really what it’s about?”

“What?” you roll your eyes. You step back further but find yourself backed against the sink. “What are you implying?”

“That you think I’m pretty,” he grins.

“Ugh! Whatever.”

“That maybe…you wish you were the girl pressed against me? Not the brunette.”

“You are something else,” you shake your head. “Just so full of yourself.”

“I think you’re pretty,” and at the same time he murmurs the words, his hands run up your thighs. All the air leaves your lungs so you’re done talking. “I think you’re the prettiest girl at the whole party. Don’t you?”

His hands reach underneath your dress and when you don’t swat them away, when, instead, you stare him down and climb up to sit on the counter, he persists. “I knew you were the prettiest girl the second I met you.” He starts to rub you through the very thin material of your panties and you have to lean on your palms just to keep from falling back. You suck in a quick breath and exhale it with a soft moan. He grins, he presses against you a little harder.

“I just thought…” he kisses your cheek once, softly, and you all but melt. “She’s too tense. And you are, you’re too tense.”

You agree. By the way you’re rolling your hips against his hand, your body fully agrees.

“Can I push these to the side?” he asks, his fingers hooked onto your undies. He only hooks them further once you nod. He shudders at the feelings of his fingertips instantly drowning in an ocean of your own creation. Or…his? Either way, it’s nice and inviting. He shoves his fingers all the way into you and instantly, your thighs clamp down around his wrist. You release this strained moan before you clamp your hand over your mouth. Self satisfied and emboldened, Spencer starts to pump his fingers against your tummy and his dick is sooooo jealous. But this will do for now.

He wraps his arm around your waist to keep you right where he needs you. He peppers kisses all along your collarbone just so your muffled sounds are right beside his ear. Although his wrist aches at the angle and his veins are threatening to break through his skin, he never loses his rhythm or intensity. He presses his crotch against your knee but it’s too much, he doesn’t trust himself not to explode in his pants so he pulls away, counters it with a hard flick of his wrists that makes your body jolt.

And when the wave starts to roll over you, dangerously close to pulling you underneath, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. Spencer’s crotch lands in the warmest place possible and he realizes he’s gonna have to finish this fast before he loses his dominant aura. He follows the cues of your body and increases his pace and determination and you have to bite down on his shirt to maintain control of your volume. It all happens so fast that when you tense up, dig your nails into his back, Spencer’s mind struggles to keep up. He pushes his fingers even deeper just to feel the way your pussy tightens so perfectly around them and then he withdraws them slowly.

He rubs your back, gives you another kiss on the cheek as he wipes his hand on your thighs. He tries to help you pull your dress back down since all you’re doing is whimpering but you huff, “I’ve got it…I’ve got it.”

“Okay.” Spencer steps back to let you off the counter and you wobble as your heels hit the floor. “Not bad for a guy who can only type 70 words per minute, huh?”

You break a smile and shake your head, “This…never happened.”

He figured. Is it a fun thing to hear? No. But nothing could ruin his mood, not right now. “What never happened?” he shrugs and leaves the bathroom.

You splash more cold water on your face. Immediately after, you’re driven home where you have a nice, warm bath and the best night’s sleep you’ve had in a long time.

Where, for the first time in an eternity, you awake in the morning without any pain in your neck.

And it’s like it never happened. Spencer got the memo. He’s the scribe who’s primary duties include attending all relevant business and editorial meetings, document all verbal communication within said meetings, and fingering Miss [y/l/n] whenever she’s in the mood. He just hopes you’re in the mood soon.

He has no idea that you’re doing your best to keep him out of your thoughts. That your feelings are all scrambled inside since the dust was shaken off your g-spot. Every time you hear his name, your tummy caves in like it’s missing something it only had once. So when Luke says, “Would it be crazy to shoot my shot with Spencer?” you just say, “Yes.”

“But I know he likes boys. He’s always flirting with me.”

“You’re always flirting with him.”

“Exactly, so we should hunch.”

“Ugh,” you gag. “Lucas.”

“[y/n], I need him so bad. It’s driving me insane, do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Oh, yes. You do. “Since when is the lanky, scrawny nerd your type? Don’t you prefer them a bit more big and beefy?”

“Aha, see, that’s the illusion. The beefy muscle men get all the hype when in reality, it’s the lanky, scrawny nerds who can put you through the mattress.”

You scoff. You roll your eyes. But what a concept.

As if the universe knew you needed a distraction, you’re pulled into a PR crisis. Immediate damage control is required and when that happens, there is a very specific change of events that must occur and in a concise amount of time. Like world leaders preparing for war, you gather with your team and assume your Barbie position. As in, wherever you need to be, you’ll go. Whatever words you need to say, you’ll speak. And by the end of it all, you’ve ground your teeth dust and you can hardly swivel your head on your neck.

At home, you drink directly from a bottle of wine. Your mouth around the rim is necessary to live to fight another day. When your doorbell rings, you’re dubious that it’s one last command, coming in to stage and pose you in the required manner but it’s not. It’s Spencer. His tall frame looks so tiny on the front porch, a camera peering down at him from the corner. You open the door and he can see there’s no light left in you so he’s soft when he speaks, “Hello.”

“Hi.”

“Tough day.”

“Yeah…”

He invites himself in and you’re stunned but not surprised. You just close the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, “Just wanted to check on you.”

“You don’t need to check on me…” you shake your head. “I’m a grown woman. If anything, you need someone to check on you.”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“I’m fine!” you implore and the vibration causes an ache in your neck so you grab your shoulder. “Fuck…I’m okay.”

He sighs, “You know, you should really get that checked out,” and he touches your throat so lightly.

“It’s fine! I’m…you’re not gonna do this.”

“Do what?”

“Swoop in a-and end up inside me again. It’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Spencer.”

“Why not? You had a nice time. I had a nice time. That’s…a-a nice time. That’s nice.”

“Eloquent.”

“You don’t even have to pay me for it. I’ll give it up for free.”

“You are…a child.”

“A…I’m 23!”

“Just a baby.”

“I can buy alcohol.”

“And my employee.”

“I can buy cigarettes.”

“It’s unprofessional.”

“What else you got?”

“It would be a media shit show if word got out, you could end up suing me, I could end up being labeled a cradle robber, and for what?”

You are trying so hard to convince yourself.

“I wouldn’t sue you. And I wouldn’t tell a soul. And I would-I would do whatever you asked and whatever you needed and…”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you groan and with a careless force, you pull him in by his shirt collar and kiss him. He moans but it could just be the shock or the wine on your lips. Either way, he wraps his arms around your waist, his hand grabbing anything they can reach because holy shit! Being absolutely pathetic works!

“Come on,” you order and his feet scurry immediately as you drag him into your bedroom.

His first thought is that he’s never seen a bed this big but then he’s thrown on top of it and watching you undress.

“Oh my god,” he exclaims. He actually holds his face in his hands, his jaw dropped wide open.

You have to bite back your smile as you tear off your panties, step out of them. “Okay, hot spot, your turn.”

And he thrashes around as his pants fly off and then his shirt and then his boxers and his out of breath already. His entire body is so long, so pale, save for the red blush on his nose and chest. He reaches for you, his hand grabby and pleading. And as soon as you run into them, there’s so much commotion that the fitted sheet pops off the mattress.

Spencer is so eager that he forgets to purse his lips so every time and everywhere he kisses you, his mouth is wide open and wet. You can’t stop shuddering because he can’t stop groping you and his hands are big enough to spread warmth throughout your entire body. The rush is the only thing distracting you from his dysfunction but he’s vividly aware of his inability to get it up. The anxiety of finally having you is making him so insecure that his cock refuses to get hard. So he slides his fingers into you again but it’s nice because this time he gets to pin you down and watch your face. He gets even deeper than he did last time and you don’t have to be so quiet. It’s nice.

When you reach for his flaccid cock, he goes straight to eating you out because he’s not ready yet. He buries his face between your thighs and he starts off rough, pushing his entire tongue against you so you lose the ability to think. The trick, he suspects, is making you come. He grunts as you pull at his hair and scoot away from him because his mouth is just too much. That’s it. More, more, he needs more.

Once he gets past it, the anxiety, the nerves. Once he reaches the ideal maximum blood flow and his soldier stands straight up, once you roll the condom onto him so swiftly, he puts you on your back. He throws your legs over his shoulders and yeah, Luke was right.

Spencer puts you through the fucking mattress.

Afterwards, you’re upside down on the bed and wheezing like you’ve punctured a lung. You can’t even feel your legs. When Spencer starts kissing your angle, all the way up your knee, it helps you get the feeling back a bit. He kisses your lips, your cheek, your neck. He doesn’t want to stop.

“You okay?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you huff. You wipe the sweat off your face and nod, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Oh, now, that seems much more honest,” he grins and you can’t help but laugh. He’s quite proud of himself. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh.”

“What? Sure you have.”

“Nope. Trust me, I’d remember. You laugh much more on TV.”

You cut your eyes at him, tilting your head, “You watch my show?”

“Of course,” he shrugs, like this is common knowledge.

“You just don’t strike me as a reality TV guy.”

“Oh, well, thank you.”

You chuckle and prop yourself on your elbows, “Wanna take a bath?”

His eyes widened because he expected to be kicked out three minutes ago. But a bath? Completely unexpected and completely accepted. “Yes. Yeah. Yes.”

And in this bath, which is big enough to fit you both with room for one more, your bodies recover and your guard is down and you ask Spencer all the things you probably should’ve asked when he was first interviewed. Turns out, he’s a genius. Turns out, if you give him a chance, he’s funny. You don’t know if you keep inviting him back for the orgasms, or the fun facts or the laughs. Who cares?

He keeps coming back.

Spencer keeps coming back and each time, he’s nervous, but a little less than the time before. He’s great at still performing his scribe position like he hasn’t seen you naked. He’s still accurate and precise. He still has your back when executives don’t quite remember every clause of their contracts as well as he does. The sex. The baths. The time you eat Chinese food on the floor together. All of that is just a perk. Charge free.

You should’ve known it was doomed because it’d been weeks since you felt an ache in your neck. You should’ve known. The pain is your true state of equilibrium. The cloud you’ve been riding on was doomed to burst.

“What is this?” your publicist, Clara, asks as she sets a photo down in front of you.

It’s clearly Spencer, leaving your house at some ungodly hour, but you shrug, “That’s my scribe.”

Clara chuckles but it’s far from genuine. She glances at Luisa and back at you. “Mhm. What’s he doing at your house at one in the morning?”

Another shrug, “Scribing.”

“[y/n], what are my four D’s?”

“Oh, god,” you roll your eyes. “Clara…”

“You are required to tell me about all dates, dick, disasters and disagreements. That’s my rule.”

“Well…I forgot.”

“Yes, the dick option is well known for causing amnesia.”

“Paparazzi shouldn’t be allowed past the gate, that’s the whole reason I live there.”

“Oh, they’re not. A neighbor’s friend took this. Crazy inventions, those smartphones. They really make my job a lot harder.”

You sigh, “So…what do I do?”

“You gotta fire him, babe,” Luisa chimes in and it’s the casualty with which she says this that makes your head swivel, which it can now do with ease.

“What?”

“Look, I could’ve spun the scribe to lover storyline if he had let me, but he didn’t. Now, it’s not a good optic. I’m sorry, but pretty boy has to go.”

“Is that not more incriminating than just keeping him on?”

“He can easily be replaced. He’s a background character, it won’t cause commotion. Plus, if you wanted, this frees him up completely to be your boy toy.”

“Oh, my god…” you shake your head, put your face in your hands.

“Hey, plenty of scribes out there,” Clara shrugs. “Problem solved.”

Yeah, there’s plenty. But one like Spencer?

Never.

You go to his apartment with the full intention of telling him. You locate his address on file and take yourself to a neighborhood that you’d normally never frequent. You knock on his door and when he opens it, it’s only for a second before he slams it in your face. Stunned, you listen to the commotion on the other side. He is tossing clothes in the hamper, tidying up his bathroom, stacking books in some type of order to make them appear less scattered. This is as good as it’s gonna get so he opens the door back up.

“Hi. Sorry. Wasn’t expecting you.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t call,” you shake your head. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.”

You step into the small studio and it’s exactly how you pictured it. Tiny, cluttered, dark, but charming. Maintained.

“Can I get you anything? I don’t have that fancy spring water but, um, there’s tap.”

You chuckle, “No, thank you. This place is cute.”

“Ah, rich people speak for crap pile.”

Now, you cackle, “Nooo. No, not at all. It’s nice.”

He smiles as he wraps his arms around you. It’s so casual, so mindless. He’s so happy to have you here. You can see it all over his face. Feel it in the gentleness of his touch. So, you fuck him. For a while, you rattle around on his tiny bed so hard that his neighbor ends up banging on the wall. It’s spineless of you, to use your body to procrastinate, but you have to admit. It helps.

“Coffee?” Spencer offers and you haven’t fully landed from the stars yet so you give him a weak nod.

He kisses your forehead and springs into action, walking around naked in the kitchen. You pull his bed sheet around your body and keep a hold of it as you wander around his apartment. You check out all the photos and the books and the mess overrunning on his desk. You catch a quick glimpse of his assignments and all the numbers and big words hurt your brain so you salute him silently for managing it all. What truly catches your eye is the FBI logo buried underneath the chaos. You think it can’t possibly be the actual Federal Bureau of Investigation so you look closer. Despite the obvious invasion, you read through the letter.

You pick it up, your eyes flicking off the last word and over to Spencer. “What-what’s this?”

Spencer looks up at you with a smile but it quickly drops when he sees the paper in your hand. Awkward. “It’s…” he breaks eye contact with you. “It’s a job offer.”

“Oh,” you respond immediately but not for the reason he thinks.

“I-I…wasn’t sure I would be accepted. I’m not at all buff or tough or anything of the sort but, um…the behavioral analysis unit…it’s a pretty big deal.”

“Yeah…” you nod, floating over to him with the sheet hugging your body. “I could tell just from the stationary.”

He laughs, but it’s uncomfortable. He feels like he’s been caught. So you want to assure him. “You…want this? You want this job? You’d move to DC?”

He exhales a long breath out of his nose and he knows he has to look at you, “It’s a solid offer. I don’t see any reason I shouldn’t accept it. Is there…”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Is there what?”

“A reason I shouldn’t take it.”

Fuck. You want to say there is. Any reason. Any reason at all. But, “You should take it.”

Spencer feels like his entire chest just got cracked open. He can feel the ache in his sternum like he’s been shot. But, he just nods. He holds up a mug, “Coffee?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Informally, that night is his one month notice, even though he doesn’t come into work any more after that. He still gets two final checks. And severance. Major severance. That was your call.

The next time you visit his place, you don’t make it to the bed. His stuff is all in boxes, his bed doesn’t have any linens, his plane is taking off in the morning so there’s no time. You stand in the middle of the living room and hold each other tight. You smother each other with your lips, making out so passionately that you can hardly breathe.

Spencer has to take a moment just to catch his breath. Just to touch your face, “If…you ever find yourself in DC…”

You laugh. It’s sad, but you laugh. “You think they’ll let me into Quantico?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nods. “I’ll leave your name at the door. [y/n] [y/l/n], allowed entry any time.”

You giggle and you kiss him. And you kiss him and you kiss him. You roll around on a bed with no sheets and then you refuse to spend the night. If this is it, you demand to do it yourself. You demand to be the one to leave. You never say it out loud but Spencer understands. It’s the reason he doesn’t fight you on it. Instead, he hugs you. For an eternity, tight. Tight, tight, tight, tight. You can feel the pressure decrease as soon as he lets you go. You give him one last kiss. You whisper, “Give ‘em hell, pretty boy.” And he swears he will, just because you asked.

You walk out, you close the door behind you and almost immediately, you cradle your neck.

Author’s Note:

As always, thank you for reading!!! Please like, reblog, comment, all the things!!! Thought of this while I was binge watching Keeping Up With The Kardashians so this fic was entirely inspired by Kris Jenner randomly deciding to get a scribe to document everything she said. Been in the drafts for a while!! SingleDad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader coming up next. Love you all, stay safe out here! Mwah 💋

#mine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid #spencer reidxreader

48 notes · View notes

amber-tortoiseshell · 2 days ago

Note

What does the spotted pattern modifier do to the classic tabby pattern, do you have any pictures? I feel like any spotted tabbies I see have patterns that follow the mackerel pattern. Does it look differently with the classic pattern, or does it somehow not affect it or smth?

I think right now there is no real consensus on the interaction of spotted and blotched. For example Kaelin & Barsh vote for "no effect all", and puts down mackerel as the tabby (Taqpep/LVRN) genotype of spotted:

Hartwell (of messybeast) thinks it does affect it, or at least a spotting modifier which does exists: "Spotted tabbies can be due to broken mackerel stripes (in which case the spots are not so rounded) or to a spotting gene. The spotting gene breaks up the underlying mackerel or classic tabby pattern into spots."

Personally, when this topic comes up, I always have to think of bengals.

Look at that curve of spots on the first one next to the spine, and that one long rosette on the next in the same position. I can't help but feel like the lines of the blotched pattern are there. Auh, I don't know. "Every bengal is genetically blotched but some have a spotted modifier thus rosetted" and "every bengal has the spotted modifier but some are homozygous blotched thus aren't affected" are both equally valid and sound models, but something pulls me toward the former.

I found some statistics in the supplementary materials of this paper: the authors tested 16 bengals for taqpep alleles and found one at 0.5 frequency.

...All right, that's a little confusing. 50% feels too much compared to the prevalence of marbled (although they didn't disclose the pattern of the cats, so it's possible they just had that much marbleds and carriers by accident or by choosing related animals), and too little for "every bengal is blotched under the rosettes". Maybe there are more, unkown and untested alleles?

AND WAIT A MINUTE!

"Pattern phenotype of F. nigripes, which resembles the atypical swirled pattern observed in domestic cats that carry the T139N allele (Fig. S2). Nine of nine F. nigripes individuals were fixed for 4 species-specific variants (T82K, H87P, E488K, F950V)." Black-footed cats seem to be genetically kind of blotched and phenotypically spotted! So a blotched-type pattern breaking up into spots is indeed possible.

A few more remarks: famously spotted breeds egyptian mau and ocicat both have a relatively high taqpep mutation frequency here (0.32 and 0.6 respectively). To me this suggest their spotting gene affects genetically blotched cats too.

...And now i looked into ocicats and found they have a sister-breed called aztec with a classic tabby pattern according to GCCF. If ocicat, too, has 60% allele frequency of blotched, that suggests the main difference between ocicat and aztec isn't mackerel vs blotched but a spotting modifier. (What's more, this ocicat breeder says not only the spotted modifier of ocicats affects blotched, but actually the mackerel allele has been completely eliminated from the breed.)

Ocicat. If you want to, you can imagine the blotched "bullseye" into the arrangement of the spots. At least I can 😆

All right, this starts to get long, and i know i won't be able to draw any real conclusions in the end. So.

Blotched is complicated*, spotted is even more complicated**, we don't know.

*several alleles that don't necessarily have the same interaction with spotted;

**probably a mix of different modifiers, and it's very well possible some of them affects blotched and some don't.

#ask and answer #cats #tabby patterns #blotched #spotted #cat genetics

28 notes · View notes

slimybeth69 · 1 day ago

Text

Touch: Part 4

Summary: Din shows you what special thing he's been wanting to do with you.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/tags: SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT. THE MANDALORIAN & THE BOOK OF BOBA FETT. eventual angst, slow burn, graphic depictions of wounds and violence, eventual non-con, eventual therapy speak, Grogu, Mando takes off his helmet, so much shit happens in this story.

chapter warnings: object insertion (v&a), graphic depictions of blood and guts (not sexual), and some fluff at the end.

a/n: This was very much inspired by the legendary Rough Day. It's such an incredible story and so well written. Don't have as high hopes for this, it's mostly just me being horny for Din Djarin.

a/n pt2: So, hello-- it's me, Beth. I have a couple things to say- This is when the reader and The Mandalorian's story starts. Before this chapter, the first three had been one-shots written with no intention of turning it into a story. But I did, so.... here it is. I hope you all like it.

unbeta'd, probably not proof-read because of my ADHD. still unbeta'ed, not as poorly proofread and changed slightly from ao3.

SORRY EVERYBODY ELSE

Masterlist

<- Previous

"That cannot be safe."

You are staring where you think Din is standing with your mouth hanging open, jaw almost touching your chest. He has just gotten done explaining to you what he wants to do to you.

His Maker forsaken helmet is back on now and the lights are still off.

He needs to see what he’s doing for this.

“It will be safe, I promise.” He chuckles quietly, as if that is supposed to be reassuring in a moment of vulnerability like this. “Are you ever not safe with me?” He asks that last part like his helmet might have a special mood sensor in there that tells him exactly what you're feeling.

You’re hesitant because this was unusual, even for Din.

"This could potentially be the first time," you chuckle nervously as you press your cheek to the cool metal.

If you're being honest— with Maker and yourself… what Din wants to do to you is making your apex tingle again.

Despite the nerves flowing through ever fiber of your body, you're sinking to your knees in the void. The moment your chest touches the floor of the Razor Crest for the second time tonight, you're actually thankful for the darkness. Doing something like this feels far less naughty in the dark.

"I don't want to get vaporized."

"Little one," Din runs one of his hands— which is always as hot as the sun, always— up the line of your spine slowly to comfort you. "I won't let anything bad happen to you," he rasps from behind his helmet. "I took the charge out already, besides… that happens on the other end."

The Amban rifle is long, about as long as you are tall. The non-business end is where the shoulder crook is. It’s shaped in a dramatic arch. One end is slightly longer than the other. Both ends of the arch are dull and rounded. Perfect for your shoulder to rest in when you aim.

It’s smooth and cold as Din traces it along your folds.

It surprisingly fits perfectly there as well.

"Looks so tight," his rasp is quiet, almost like he's ashamed to admit it. The tip of one of the horns is pushing against your entrance now, sliding in further and further— so slowly. "Need to see you filled."

His words make you shiver. It was clear that Din thought about you while he wasn't here… he had taken your notebook so that he could think about you all he wanted. You just never really thought about what he been imagining while looking at the pictures you had drawn of yourself in that notebook.

“It feels good?” Even through the modulator, you can hear his excitement— but it's intermingled with concern for your comfort, and that makes you melt against the hard metal of the ships floor.

You let Din know it does feel good with a content hum as he pushes the Abman's horn further into you.

It's been so long since anything has been inside you besides your own fingers and very, very recently Din's thick, long, ten billion degree digits. So long in fact, you almost forgot how delicious the stretch of something inside you feels.

You sigh happily again as the smooth, polished wood slides further into your soaked entrance. “It does feel good.” A moan as it glides against that utterly sweet spot inside you. “So good.”

Din respires loudly as he watches the second horn of the Amban inch closer to your untouched hole. "You stretch so nicely, little one," he murmurs from under his helmet.

Sweat starts to bead across your brow as Din starts to work the first horn in and out of your wetness at the absolute perfect pace. It's not to slow, not to fast— he's allowing you to adjust while still giving you friction. To you, right now on the floor, the thrusts feel tender and sweet.

Loving, almost.

Your hips instinctively start to rock back to meet his thrusts, needing more, wanting it deeper inside of you, but that's when the second horn notches at your second hole. It hasn't penetrated you yet, but the pressure of it at your opening has you feeling rather intimidated.

Din pulls the Amban away from you. There is a moment of pause, nothing happens, and then you feel his tongue massaging against your tightest hole.

"Oh my Maker," you sigh loudly as he pushes past the ring of muscle to open and loosen you up for what he wants to see so badly.

"…would do this forever…" he murmurs from between your supple cheeks. The vibrations from his voice make you shiver and you have to bite back a smile at the sound of him unmodulated.

You wonder where the helmet is— did he take it completely off or is he just wearing it on the crown of his skull?

It doesn't really matter, you don't even really care as he pushes his tongue back inside of you. His breathless panting as he pushes two fingers into your cunt simultaneously and makes you arch your back down towards the floor, pushing your ass back against him.

"So good. S-so good," he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times before he pulls away and loudly spits against your now loosened hole.

"Maker," you sigh at the obscene noise and the withdrawing of his fingers.

Din replaces the horns of the shoulder crook and slowly begins to work the first one in and out as the second tip taps your now other wet and ready hole. Slowly, he starts to push forward and you whimper at this new stretch. A different kind of feeling, it feels ludicrous. Out of place.

“Din…”

The word escapes your lips, and your fists clench in response. Through gritted teeth, you utter one long Maker as he removes the Amban from your body and rests a comforting hand on your back.

“It hurts? Are you okay?” He’s concerned. Sounding almost apologetic.

“No. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just different, go slower.” You don’t want to stop. It did feel good.

“Touch yourself while I do this.” His modulated whispers into your ear make you push back against the Amban again and it presses against your asshole again. “Touch...like the first night, please. I want to see it.”

The fact that Din remembers, and thinks about that first night the way you do… it makes your heart start to beat faster against the floor of the ship.

“Okay.” You breathe, one hand reaching for your clit. Your fingers find it and desperately start to circle and swirl around the wet mess between your legs.

“Yes. Just like that, little one.” Din trails one finger down your spine gently, watching as you begin to play with yourself. “Fuck. You’re always so ready… and wet…” He admires you while his thrusts forward with Amban a little more aggressively now.

“You want to make yourself come while I put it in?” He whispers, dragging of his fingers back up your spine.

You nod silently.

“Was that a yes?” He’s wanting to hear you say it.

“Yes, Din, please…” You’re whining quietly as your fingers cease to stop touching your aching clit.

With more force behind his movements as his traveling hand grips one of your ass cheeks and pulls you apart so he can watch. The second horn presses against your tight hole with each thrust, he’s careful not to enter until you’re ready.

“You take it so well....” It’s a modulated whisper. "So wet--"

“Only for you,” sigh happily, feeling silly for saying it but in the moment, you don't what he thinks.

It’s true. You’ve never gotten this excited for anyone else.

Din gasps softly, you almost don’t hear it over the sounds of your fingers in your slick and the horn pushing into you over and over. “S-Say that again, p-please…”

“Only for you, Din…” You murmur with your eyes closed. Your touching had been getting you ready, your fingers had been spinning around your clit quickly— release was so close.

The thick wood horn inside you plus your fingers on your throbbing clit, and now this new sensation pressed against a new hole that’s never been explored before tonight, are all coiling something deep inside your lower belly.

“Gonna…gonna come…” You strain the whimpers out, your body trembling right on the precipice of bliss.

Din presses his groin against the outside of your thigh and begins to move in a steady rhythm. You feel him pushing harder and faster, rubbing against you as he picks up speed.

"Oh! Oh!” You cry out, pushing your hips back as the coil inside of you snaps. “Diiiin!”

He pushes the Amban forward gently and you feel it enter you from behind. It’s a fiery pain, dulled tremendously by the bliss coming from between your legs, but it’s still pain.

A sharp intake of breath through your teeth is quickly followed by a pleasurable tightening of your inner walls around the smooth wooden horn inside. The feeling draws another loud moan from you.

Din continues to push and pull the shoulder crook in and out of you while you ride out your orgasm. You’re shoving your self back against the Amban now, wanting more, needing it deeper in your cunt while you come on it. The horn in your tighter hole stretches you wider, a new sensation, not pain or pleasure but a feeling of being completely full. You shudder on the floor of The Crest.

“You’re s-so good,” Din sounds like he’s in awe once again. You amaze him. “Did you like that?” He asks, his modulator voice is gone and now he’s kissing your spine. When he removes the Amban from inside you, you whine at the empty feeling. The gaping feeling.

“Yes.” You pant on the floor. “So good, Din… So good.” You collapse, body fully going flat against the floor.

Din lays down beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against him tightly.

There is a moment of silence while he listens to you catch your breath while one of his strong, calloused fingers circle around your belly button slowly.

“I just remembered how you clean.” He whispers into your ear. “We should get off the floor.”

For a moment you’re offended, but then you remember how well you cleaned before he started touching you and you chuckle.

“I did better this time,” your hand hesitantly finds his on your stomach. He stretches his fingers wide so you can slide yours between them. “Didn’t you notice how shiny it was?”

“I didn’t notice anything besides how you looked in your beautiful dress,” he murmurs, planting gentle kisses the back of your neck.

There is only one word you have in your vocabulary to describe how you need him to kiss you: desperately. You need to feel his lips on yours, need to feel his tongue swirling against your own. You might want that more than anything else he could offer you- but you won’t tell him that.

“We should get to bed.” You whisper to him instead.

Din doesn’t say anything for a moment, he just holds you close to him with the bridge of his nose against the back of your skull. Finally, and reluctantly, he lets you go but not for long. He’s on his feet before you can even sit up, and he’s got his hands under your arms, lifting you off the ground.

You’re suspended in midair for one second before he gently sets you back down on your feet.

“Do you need help walking?” He asks as you hold your hands out in front of you, feeling for obstacles in the dark.

“Do you not need help?” You’re snippy, stalled in the dark waiting for his response.

He’s quiet for a long time. When he does speak, it startles you. “It’s my ship…” He sounds offended that you’d even ask him such a question.

“Fine…” You grumble as he slips his hand into yours and takes the lead.

“Here’s the ladder…” he places your hand on one of the rungs and then stands behind you. “Go on, little one. I won’t let you fall,” he whispers into your ear as you hesitate to start climbing.

There is no need to do any of this in the dark when Din isn’t here. You keep all the lights on until you’re in bed and then you make it dark. You’ve never had to climb the ladder in the void.

Surprisingly enough, you make it up to the second level with no issues. Din follows close behind and once he’s beside you, his hand is in yours again, leading you to the sleeping quarters.

You’re not shocked when he puts you into his bed and crawls behind you.

“What happens in the morning? Hm?” You whisper curiously, turning around to face him. “Because I almost broke my nose last time… I’m not doing that again.”

Din chuckles, slipping one hand under your cheek, the other slides to your waist, his lips touch your chin softly. “I’m always up before you.” Then he presses his lips to yours, just as lightly.

Din’s lips are soft and warm— perfect. He’s perfect. He smells faintly of oil from the engine and sweat from being stuck under his helmet all the time.

To you, right now, he smells like what a home would feel like.

“Close your pretty eyes, and let me worry, okay?” He asks with his lips still pressed against yours. He kisses you again quickly before you can really react, and then rolls onto his side. Your chest is pressed against his back and he grabs one of your wrists to drape it over his side, then holds your hand to his stomach.

How are you supposed to sleep after that?

What?!

That was your first since long before you even got on this ship! It’s been so long since you shared a kiss with anyone. Ages it felt like!

Your first kiss with Din— and he does it twice and then just rolls over ? Din did this on purpose. You’re sure of it.

The child is what you wake up to— his little green face right in yours.

You’re still in Din’s bed, and the child is touching your lips, pushing them apart with his little clawed fingers so he can get a good look at your teeth. You let him and wonder what he’s looking for.

Then you wonder how the hell he got into the bed with you but as your head turns to inspect your surroundings, Din is standing— fully dressed in his beskar, staring down at you.

“He was fussing.” It’s said flatly. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear him.” He’s turning to walk away.

“I had a long night!” You call out to him as he leaves the room.

The child is full of energy. He wants to play. Right now.

But you’re naked under these sheets.

You set the child on the floor and wrap yourself up in the sheets and tuck them under your arms.

The clothes you bought yesterday aren’t where you put them when you got back from the market… and then you remember the fashion show you put on for him last night. The smirk on your face is hard to hide as you make your way into the lower level of the ship.

Once you’re down there, you turn the corner and find Din with your white dress in his hands. He’s massaging the fabric between his gloved thumb and forefinger carefully as if he can feel it through the yellow leather. He’s just staring down into the mess of crumbled, white linen in his grasp.

“I don’t know if I wanna know— I don’t think I do— but can I have those back, please?” You extend your arm for the clothing he’s holding. He turns to look at you.

“Last night…” Din walks to you slowly. “You were so beautiful in this,” he holds the dress out to you as he continues to speak. “I could look at you all the time.” He’s in front of you now, looking down at you with the dress in his hands. “Clothes. No clothes.”

“The kids awake,” you smirk up at him as you take the dress out of his hands. “Get your helmet on straight.”

“I have to leave,” He says as you're turning to walk away. “Tonight.”

“For how long?” You ask, chasing him down the hallway towards the ladder that leads up to the first floor.

“I’m unsure… possibly a couple days… maybe longer. A week—”

That’s the longest he’s been gone since you’ve been here. You turn your head over your shoulder. “A week!?”

Suddenly, Din’s sweet kisses from last night don’t seem so very sweet anymore. The feel dirty and almost like a ploy to keep you from complaining about this.

His helmet nods silently.

“Is where we’re going nice?” You ask curiously. If it is nice… then you might not care. You see him shake his head and groan in frustration. “Why!? Why do you cart the child and I around out here instead of finding us a plac-”

Din presses a gloved finger to your lips to quiet you.

“So I can keep both of you safe. You’re not safe with so many planets and stars between us.” He explains gently, trying to not upset you further. “I want you close by.”

Even though your heart is bursting in your chest because Din wants to keep you safe, wants you close— something about him choosing to kiss you last night, knowing he was leaving for so long today makes you angry. You say nothing in response to him.

“I know you’re upset. I’m sorry.” Din apologizes.

“It’s just part of the job description.” You say coldly, turning your head to the side so you don’t have to stare back at your reflection in his helemt.

It’s hard to not be upset after the night you just shared together, the touching, the kisses, the sleeping in his bed with him all night? How could you not feel some sort of emotion after that?

Din grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning your head to look at him. “You want more money? For the job ?” With his free hand, he reaches behind his cape and pulls a fistful of credits out and pushes them into your chest forcefully. “Take them then,” he hisses through the modulator. Din pushes your chin as he pulls his hand away, and then he turns to leave. The credits scatter to the floor before you have time to catch them.

The child hears them falling noisily, and comes running to start grabbing them so he can begin putting them into his mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no, no...” You whimper through the tears pricking at your eyes, trying to get all the credits back from him. You have to stick your whole hand in his mouth to get the last one back.

With all the credits in your hands and tears in your eyes, you throw them into the hallway Din just walked down. They scatter across the floor as you scoop the child up in your arms and make your way to the second level.

Once you’re in the sleeping quarters again and the child is preoccupied with one of his new toys, you allow yourself to come undone.

Din went from calling you beautiful one moment and then next, he’s shoving credits at you like you get paid to get fucked and then treated badly. What did you do to deserve that?

Tears start to roll down your cheeks, and the child freezes seeing you in distress. He’s never seen you cry. Not one time. He watches you, his head tilting side to side slowly as you press the heels of your hands into your eyes.

He makes a quiet cooing noise at you but you don’t look. You can’t. There are too many tears and you feel so embarrassed for being so enamored with Din lately. He’s your boss. That’s it.

This was never going to happen again. You’ll sleep on the mat forever and never even look at his bed again. You might even move to a different part of the ship. You and the child.

You feel little hands on your leg and you finally look. The child is standing beside you, his big eyes are wide and he looks concerned for you, his little fingers are gripping your leg softly.

The child makes you cry harder, because what if Din kicks you off after this?

What if he tells you that this isn’t working and you need to go back to the casino? You’d be devastated. This child is your world now. Din had slowly started to become a part of your everything— but not anymore!

Fuck Din!

As you change into fresh clothes and wipe away the stubborn tears that refuse to stop, you carefully make the bed with clean sheets. You tidy up the ship and wash any dishes or toys that need it. The baby watches you with concern as you move around the room, struggling to control your emotions. He sticks close to you as you pace back and forth, trying to find something - anything - to occupy your mind. All of your sewing supplies are in the same room as Din, but you can't bring yourself to go there right now.

You break out your notebook and lay on the floor with the child. You give him a page and your old charcoal. You show him how to doodle. You draw him. He sees it and points to himself. You nod and clap for him. Then you draw yourself. He points to the picture of you and then touches your nose. It makes you cry again.

All day.

You’re in that room all day spontaneously crying, when finally, the door opens and Din walks past the two of you with no acknowledgement. You stand up, grabbing the child and leave into the room he just walked out of.

You two sit on the floor again and you show him how you sew. You hold up the almost finished robe to him, seeing if it’ll fit.

“You’re gonna be the most well dressed green baby on the ship.” You tell him. He coos and warbles up to you, his fingers touching the fabric of his new robe. “Do you like it?” You ask but he doesn’t respond as usual. He’s a baby.

“We should talk,” Din’s modulated voice makes you jump. He’s standing in the doorway watching you two.

“‘Kay.” You say curtly, going back to your sewing. You don’t look at him.

“You’re upset?” He asks softly.

You turn your head and blink at him in disbelief.

“I already gave you more cre-” He starts to say, but sees you’re trying to hold back tears.

“I don’t want your money.” The words come out quickly before you can cry. You strain back the sob forming in your throat. “I don’t want more.” You have to look away, you don’t want him to see you cry. “Just leave me alone, please.”

The child touches your arm comfortingly and warbles quietly at you.

“If you’re so unhappy here, I can take you back to Canto Bight.” Din sounds so angry when he speaks from behind the modulator.

All you can do is sob loudly. It’s the only sound coming out of you.

Din is quiet for so long listening to you cry. When he speaks again, his tone is softer and quieter. More kind than before. “Are you unhappy here?”

“No. I love it here,” you weep softly. You do love it here. You blink and tears roll down your cheek again. You attempt to turn your body away from Din but he’s beside you now, kneeling with his hand on your shoulder.

“I thought you did too…but you are crying,” he says nervously. “Happy girls don’t cry…why are you crying? Please tell me.”

“You were s-s-s-so mean about th-the credits,” you wail. “I didn’t a-ask for m-more c-credits.” You cannot stop crying no matter how hard you try. “I d-don’t want you t-t-to take m-me back to Can-Canto B-bi-” You can’t even speak it, it makes you cry too hard.

“You think I’m going to take you back there?” He tries to turn you to face him but you turn the other way, further away from him. “I thought you were unhappy. I didn’t think you wanted this anymore. I don’t blame you. I worry about you too much and I don’t let you leave because of it. I’m not always nice.”

“But I care for you! And the child so much!” You wail. You scoop the child who is trying to crawl into your lap in your arms and hold him close to your chest. “I love him so much and I can’t be away from him.” You sob harder. “He’s all I’ve got now and if you take him from me it’ll kill me.” The child wraps his little arms around your neck as much as he can. Coos and baby warbles fill your ear.

“I wasn’t-” Din is desperately trying to turn you now, both hands are on your shoulders and he’s spinning you on the smooth surface of the Crest’s floor. “-look at me.” He says it sternly enough that you listen and look up at him with bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. “I don’t want to take you back to Canto Bight. I don’t. You didn’t see the child when you were at the market. He missed you. Cried for you.”

“You said he had fun!” You wail again. “He cried?” You hold the child closer.

Din chuckles.

“I wasn’t telling you that you have to leave.” He explains after a moment of silence. “Do you still want to stay? Knowing what happens, knowing that I leave. I have to. Do you still want to be here?”

You stare up at him for a long time. You do. You’re still sad though. At a loss for words.

“You were so cold to me. Then you called it ‘part of the job description’ so I assumed you wanted more credits. More compensation for what you do. I got mad because I thou-” He cuts himself off.

“You thought what?” You ask nervously. He stays quiet.

“It’s nothing. I thought you wanted more. I tried to give you what I thought you wanted.” He sighs and takes his hands from your shoulders. You can feel where the heat from his gloved hands held you.

“What were you going to say?” Your eyes haven’t left his helmet.

“I have to go now. When I get back we will talk more. Okay?”

You almost start crying again but he pinches the tip of one gloved finger between his opposite index and thumb and pulls his hand free. He reaches for you with it and wipes the tears off one of your cheeks with his thumb before cupping your face in his palm

“Perfect, beautiful little one.” He rasps softly. “So perfect.” He rubs his thumb along your cheek and wipes the new falling tears. “Don’t cry. Please. Don’t cry. I’ll be back soon and we will talk about this.” You nod quickly.

“Okay.” You sniffle softly, trying to calm the fear and sadness inside you. ‘Okay.”

Din rests the top of his visor to your forehead softly.

“Try and find forgiveness in your heart, for me. Please.” He keeps you there, pressed against his helmet as he speaks to you. “I’ll be thinking of you. Looking at your doodles . Waiting to see you again.”

Then he pulls away and stands.

“Are you staying on the floor with the child or do you need assistance getting up?” He asks, extending a hand out to you. You shake your head at him.

“I’m gonna finish this.” You hold up the almost finished robe with one hand, the other arm is still cradling the child to your chest. He’s resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’ll be back. Stay safe. I’ll set up the perimeter when I leave. Do not go outside of it. Please.” He rattles off his ‘Din is leaving’ list to you. You hear it every time he goes.

“You be safe. Come back in one piece.” You smile up at him softly. Din looks down at you for a long time before he speaks again.

“Perfect. Beautiful.”

Din does not come back in one piece. Well, all together yes, but he’s hanging on by threads.

In the dead of night, you are jolted awake by the sound of the ship's door opening. It has been ten days since he left, and you've been unable to sleep properly ever since. As you strain your ears, you can hear his boots hitting the ramp with uneven steps, like he's struggling to stay upright.

Jumping out of bed, not needing to turn any lights on because you can hear him banging around in the adjacent room.

“Din.” You whisper into the darkness of the entryway. “Din, is that you?” You search for the light button on the wall desperately trying to see something. Finally, you find the small button and press it.

You see Din facing the metal hull of the ship, leaning against it with his arms curled up over his helmet which is pressed tightly to the wall of the Crest. He’s supporting all of his weight on one leg. The other foot hovers inches above the ground.

He’s hurt.

Time feels like it stops as you rush to him. In the short amount of time it takes you to get to him, you manage to stumble over your own feet twice. When you reach him, you put one hand on his shoulder and he flinches under your touch.

“Where?” You ask nervously.

You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s been injured before, sure…but never like this. Never to the point where he can’t speak to you. He points to his leg, inner thigh and you kneel before him, inspecting. It’s a burn or a cut or both, you don’t know. Some of it’s been cauterized already, other parts of it are still bleeding badly. It looks so deep.

“What do I need to do? Tell me?”

Everything about you feels like a Mimbanese mudslide. It feels like all the hard parts that keep you upright have been stolen from you. Din says nothing as you kneel in front of him helplessly. You can hear small, stifled groans of pain coming from his helmet.

“I don’t know how to help you.” You whisper powerlessly. It’s like time has stopped and the world fell silent around just the two of you. “Tell me what to do.” You beg him.

“Shh. Please just be quiet.” He snaps at you in frustration. He’s still got his helmet leaned against the wall.

Instead of being upset you stand, and run to get clean water and a rag. You check to make sure the child is still asleep in his bassinet. When you return he’s sitting on the bench. He’s got his beskar off and he’s leaned against the hull of the ship, still groaning through his modulator.

“It’s going to hurt and I’m so sorry.” You warn him, taking the clean wet rag and ringing it out into the bowl of water. “Okay? Are you ready?” He isn’t watching, he’s looking up to the ceiling, choking back sobs of pain.

“Go.” Din chokes out. You move the rag closer to his wound and his hand finds your wrist. He grabs you tightly as you hover over the bleeding mess. “S-so g–gentle. P-please.” They came out sobbed and choked on soft whispers.

With the most feather and gentle touch you can, you start to clean it, and once the rag is covered in blood you realize you don’t have another bowl of water to rinse in.

“I’ll be right bac--” You start but Din grips your wrist tighter to the point where it starts to hurt. “I need more water.” You explain quickly, not upset he’s holding you tightly. “I’m coming right back. I promise.” His fingers loosen on you. “I promise.”

With more speed you’ve ever used in your life you grab another bowl and more water and rush back to him. He hasn’t moved. His good leg is shaking, like he’s shivering.

“I’m back. See?” You look up at him and rinse the rag in the new bowl and watch all the dirt and blood and muck float and twirl in the water. “I came right back. Just like I said, I’m here.” You try and comfort him as you go back to cleaning him carefully. “I’m right here. Just breathe and think about us and those nights. It’ll be okay.”

Desperate to help him find some comfort in this you start rattling off whatever nice things come to your head. Nervously babbling because you can’t hold it in. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back so we can share the bed again, and I’ll hold you like I did before you left.” You're fighting back tears of fear and frustration and worry for Din. You fight them back though because this isn’t the time for tears.

Of course, he says nothing. He’s probably worried about biting right through his tongue with the grunts and groans he’s making under that helmet.

You continue to clean him up until you can start to see things that make your stomach turn inside you. Inside of his muscle and fatty tissue. Blood starts reappearing as you pat it away. You grow more fearful and nervous.

“You need something to bandage this, where is it?” Din doesn’t answer before you’re looking around. Din points to the opposite wall and you see a small box strapped to the wall. You run to it, rip the straps from around the sides, you stumble again as you turn around and almost fall as you rush back to him.

Everything about cleaning him and even being near him had to be so slow and so careful that when you weren’t near him you tried to make up for lost time, sometimes moving too fast for your own good. You slide a couple inches as you kneel before you even stop moving. You drop the box on the floor and your nervous fingers fumble with the snaps on the front.

“Fuckin– c’mon, open!” You can’t get one of the snaps undone. A hidden sharp edge slices your index finger full across the length of the pad from under the rim. “Fuck!” You exclaim, looking and seeing blood pooling on your own finger now. You wipe it off on your pants and more carefully now try the stuck snap. It opens fine with your newfound care. “Fuck you.” You whisper again to the box, your finger hurts, it’s still bleeding.

“Abyssin grafting patch.” Din hisses through clenched teeth.

Looking for what he’s talking about you find it, and set it on the bench beside him.

“You need to take off your pants or I can cut them.” You explain, seeing that you won't be able to get the patch on without taking off his pants. The fabric was sliced through with something so hot that it melted some of the fabric to his skin.

“Cut.” He groans, letting his helmet hit the hull with a loud clunk. You find the medical scissors and carefully peel the melted fabric away from his skin. He hisses loudly and you slow down as much as you can. You try to breathe. You let the scissors do most of the work, they’re sharp and let you cut down Din’s pant leg so you can open the fabric and get more access to him.

“Okay. I’m gonna put it on now.” You walk him through what you’re doing as you rip open the patch from its wrapper. “You ready?” He’s still not looking down at you but he nods.

You tenderly press the patch against his leg and watch as it fuses itself to him. You sigh with relief. He’s safe. He’s here. You fall back onto your buttocks and let your legs stretch out in front of you.

“You’re bleeding.” Din sighs when he finally takes his head away from the wall. “Why’re you bleeding?” He’s panting, pointing now to your finger. You look and there is a small circle of blood on the floor where your finger is resting.

“I cut myself on the stupid fucking box.” You grumble, reaching for it. You grab a wipe and a small bandage. You clean yourself up and root around for what else could be in there. “Do you want the pills or the gas?” You ask, holding up a small bottle filled with capsules and a container with a mouth and nose mask attached to it.

“Do you need either?” He asks seriously. You look at him with confusion.

“I don’t do drugs, Din, what are you talking about?”

“Your finger.” He points again. He’s gotta be delirious.

“It’s just a cut, I’m fine. You’re missing some of your– the gas. You need the gas.” You decide for him. You put the canister under your arm and stand. “Can you walk?” He nods and goes to stand. You put one of his arms around your neck and shoulders, letting him put some of his weight on you.

The two of you slowly make your way into the sleeping quarters. He’s part limping, part hopping on one foot.

“What happened?” You whisper now within earshot of the child who surprisingly didn’t wake up for any of that. You don’t know what you would have done had the child awoken while you were panicking.

“Fight.” He groaned quietly as he sat down on the edge of the bed. You hand him the canister.

“I’m going to sleep in the other room tonight with the child.” He tilts his helmet up to you and starts to shake his head. “Yes. We are. You need to rest and you’re going to be knocked out with the gas. I don’t want to take any risks of you not waking up before me.” You lean forward and press your forehead to the top of his face visor. Din wraps one hand around the back of your neck.

“I missed you.” He rasps softly. You close your eyes and keep your forehead pressed to his helmet.

“I missed you too. So much.” He brings the other hand to your cheek and holds you to him.

“I should sleep-” He pulls away from you and tries to stand. “-in the other room.” You put both hands on his shoulders and gently force him to sit back down.

“You are not moving. Please. Use the gas and sleep. You can sleep in the other room tomorrow night, okay?” You tease him gently.

“You’ll stay here tomorrow?” He asks, tilting his head to the side again. You nod.

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for it.” You smile down at him. “But tonight you need to sleep. As long as you can. No worry of anyone seeing you. We’ll be okay,” You motion towards the baby's bassinet. “I’ll see you whenever you decide to wake up. Okay?”

He nods up at you. You press your forehead to his helmet again and sigh.

“Glad you’re back.” You whisper before you turn and push the baby’s bassinet into the other room. You have to come back in and grab your blankets and mat. He watches you, as you walk back and forth.

As you pass him to leave the room for the last time he reaches for you and his fingers graze your wrist. You stop and look down at him.

“Perfect. Beautiful.” He rasps quietly.

You smile at him, taking his hand in yours. You bring his fingers to your lips and kiss each one gently.

“Sleep.” You whisper to him again.

Then you leave because he does need his rest. It kills you to leave the room and shut the door because you so badly want to run back to him and hold him while he sleeps and keep him safe but you know you can’t. You know you don’t have the willpower to not look if given the opportunity. Especially if he were to never know. You’re ashamed of it, but you know it to be true.

Din doesn’t leave the bed for the next two days. You wait on him hand and foot, happily. Bringing him any and everything he could ask for. Laying with him when he wanted, you and the child both. You actually cooked for him. Really cooked. And didn’t even burn yourself.

That night after the child had been put to sleep, with just the dim overhead light above his bed, you lay next to him and planted well placed kisses across his strong chest. He’s mostly smooth with just the smallest dark hairs speckled around his nipples and across his chest. The hair mostly rests in a faint line from his belly button down to below the waistband of his pants.

“I think about you all the time.” You whisper between kisses. “You’re on my mind all day long. You’re in my dreams at night.” His arm is behind you, his fingers rubbing up and down on your back.

“Really?” He asks, tilting his helmet to the side. You nod at him and lay your head on his stomach gently. “Good things I hope?” He rests the flat of his palm on you. Feeling his warmth, you sigh and nod again.

“Very good things.” You smile.

In moments like this, you hate the helmet. You hate it so much.

There are other times that you forget he can take it off; when you talk normally or argue but in moments like this, where you speak so gently to each other and the things each of you say sound like things out of a love story read to you as a child of princesses and princes’.

“I’m sorry if I scared you that night.” He whispers, his fingers press into softly. “I didn’t mean to. I would have done it myself. I always do.” His hand goes back to moving up and down on your skin. You listen. “You did a good job though. Really, I’ll have to pay you more credits now.” He tickles along your side gently and you frown. “ Nurses get paid more.” He teases you.

Giggles escape your mouth as he starts to tickle the frown off your face.

“Stop, stop. The kid," you whisper, sitting up from his stomach.

“Beautiful.” He says softly, moving his hand to your cheek, his thumb rubs across your lips gently. You kiss it with each pass of his thumb. “Perfect.”

“Why do you say those things?” You roll your eyes at him. “I’m not perfect.” It’s said with a hint of sadness, because you know you’ve been having terrible wishes of him losing his helmet or forgetting it and you just seeing him because you have to know. You pang with guilt every time you look at it lately.

Din doesn’t say anything for a long time. He just rubs his thumb across your lips slowly, sometimes pulling your bottom lip down gently and he lets it pop up back against your top lip. You're hypnotized by it. You lean in against his hand.

“I think about kissing you every day.” He whispers to you. “I love your mouth. Your lips.”

Your head starts to buzz. Did you hear Din correctly when he just said he loved something about you?

Maker, you must be about to meet right now because this cannot be real. You’re snapped back from your buzzing thoughts when Din speaks again.

“Does it make you feel nice?” His hand falls from your face, and you almost fall over into him, not realizing how much you had been leaning into his hand. “When I call you those things?”

“Sometimes. Most times.” You whisper honestly. You don’t like lying to Din.

“Why not every time?” He asks gently, taking one of your hands in his.

“Because, I’m not. I don’t always want–” You think about how you want to say it, so it doesn’t come out wrong. “I sometimes am selfish with the thoughts I have about you.” He tilts his helmet to the side.

“You– Ther– I-I.” He has to clear his throat. “You know that th-” He sighs softly in frustration. “You’re the only one. No need to be selfish.” He laughs nervously.

In love. You thought it was infatuation but you love him. So damn much. Especially right now. Maybe you only love him right now, you didn’t know. You haven’t been in love before. You’ve definitely never felt this way. Not the feeling you feel right now in your heart. But it’s shadowed quickly by the fact that you’re still feeling guilty.

“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckle at him softly and squeeze his hand. “Sometimes what I want wouldn’t be good or nice to you.” You try to explain nicely in a way that doesn't sound like; take your helmet off. I don’t care what happens. I wanna see.

He tilts his head to the side again, still not understanding.

“You… want bad things to happen to me?” His modulated inflection makes you chuckle again.

“No,” You’re still chuckling, shaking your head. Then you stop. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t know if what I wish for would lead to bad things. Or cause you harm. I know it’d make you disappointed. ” You try and get him to remember the conversation about the helmet, right after he bought you a new notebook for taking your old one.

“Ohh.” He whispers to you, nodding in understanding.

Then it’s quiet. For so long, Maker, how is this man so quiet for so long?

“I know it’s not nice of me to wish and want those things. I can’t help it though. My mind and heart wonder. It’s never wishing those things upon you either. I just know they might be an effect of what I want. So technically, yes I do want bad things to happen to you.” You talk nervously. Trying to listen to something other than nothingness. You joke to try and lighten the mood. Nothing works. He stays quiet for so long.

It’s very aware you’ve made him feel something. You’re not sure what it is yet.

“You can’t be upset with me.” He says finally. His raspy voice scares you in the silence. You jump but he squeezes your hand. “Promise you won’t be upset?”

Unsure if you can actually make that promise, you nod your head at him and bite your bottom lip nervously.

“The child is more than just a child.” He starts. Your heart is racing for a new reason now. “It’s so difficult to explain… but I need to take him, and I need you to stay here.” You rip your hand from his and pull it into your lap.

“You’re taking him from me?” You whisper softly in shock. Din shakes his head quickly.

“I’m going to bring him back… eventual-” You hold your hand up.

“How long?” Your chin starts to tremble.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. And I’m sorry. If I knew you two were going to get attached like this I would have never asked you to do this.” He tries to explain.

“You’ve known this whole time that you were going to have to take him!?” It’s a strained whisper of disbelief. “Where are you taking him?”

“He has to learn the way of the Jedi. I’m taking him to Luke Skywalker.”

You gasp audibly.

“The Luke Skywalker?” You ask again in disbelief. You've heard stories about him since you were a child.

“Yes. He’s going to teach the child how to use the force, how to be stronger.” Din explains.

“I’m going. I don’t care what you say or if you have to try and tie me to the Crest. I don’t care. I’m going with you this time.”

Din sighs loudly.

“And I’m staying with him.”

“No. You cannot do that.” He tries to grab your hand again but you pull it away.

“Why not? Why can’t I stay? He’s a baby and he needs someone to care for him. Do you think Luke Skywalker is going to care for him the way I do? The way we do?” You’re still whispering but you are exasperatedly trying to prove your point. Your hand is now pointed at the baby’s bassinet. “Is Luke Skywalker going to make sure that all the bugs he eats don’t have stingers on them? Is he going to give him a bath every night before bed and change his robes and do all the things we do for him?”

You’re upset that you never asked what Din was doing out in the galaxy while you stayed cooped up in the ship. You always thought that he was just a bounty hunter with a green baby and now you find out that this green baby has always had a destination in mind that you didn’t know about? Your heart was breaking in your chest.

“You can come with me but you cannot stay.” He’s serious and it makes tears burn your eyes.

“Will you ever get him back? Will I ever see him again?” Something new comes into your head and you’re fighting back the urge to ask about it.

“I don’t know. It’s a possibility. I need to take him to Luke.”

“And then what?” You implore nervously.

“What do you mean?” Din asks, reaching for your hand again. You let him take it and hold it in his.

“What happens to me?” Tears roll down your cheeks. “Just don’t l-leave me b-back on Canto B-bight. P-please take me an-anywhere else.” You’re drawing in big gulps of air between each sobbed word. Din squeezes your hand tightly.

“I’m n– I’m not leaving you?” He doesn’t understand what you mean,

“Without the ch-child what g-good am I to you?” You sob softly.

“You hold a place in my heart. I care for you dearly. I’d still pay you to clean, now you know how to nurse me back to health.”

“I’d do it for free.” You whisper through quiet sniffles.

Din stays quiet for a long time.

“You want to stay with the child?” He ask, his hand cupping your face again.

Eyes have never moved so fast in history the way your eyes flick to Din.

“Is it an option?” You ask softly, leaning into his hand, the burning hot heat of him overtakes the rest of your face and you’re hot, but it’s so good. Because it’s his heat. Din’s body pressed against yours.

“If it’s what you desire. I’ll make it an option.” Din’s raspy modulated voice says quietly. “I’d do it for you.”

“Why? What were you going to say the other day before you left?”

Din presses his thumb to your lips gently, quieting you. “Yes or no?”

All you can do is nod.