#very very excited for when that sees the light of day (probably won't be for like another year lol. there's a reason why it's cohesive)

[slimybeth69]

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.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I love all your comments and tags and sweet words. Thank you to anyone showing support on this story and me in general.

What does this metal man have in store for you?? What's gonna happen??

[quatregats]

Finals are nigh I am thinking about the Solomon a Gaenor fic again time is a circle

[sanemisstalker]

NSFW /// KNY characters who I think cum particularly hard/ a lot. This could have a part two, I'm eepy, srry.

CW/ Non specific gendered/genitalia reader / Cum... like an insane amount of cum / BDSM Dynamic (ENMU)/ Light Gore (ENMU)/ tbh, Enmu. / Cum-swapping (AKAZA)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

-Cums hards AND a lot.

-Sanemi isn't quite sure why is body is the way it is, maybe it's his breath control mixed with the insane amount of testosterone and panic pumping through his veins on the daily, but Sanemi doesn't struggle to get it up.

-he struggles to stay flaccid. He's far more likely to be hard at any given moment. Not that he's excited, his dick is just permanently stuck at half mast. It takes an insane, highly emotional amount to get him entirely flaccid.

-I think Sanemi's orgasm absolutely shreds him everytime, unanimously. Does that stop him from getting it up in another ten minutes? Absolutely not. I just truly think he's a medical anomaly.

-He cums prematurely, but what does it matter? It literally didn't go down, he's still fucking going, now he's just like, in tears about it.

-I think Sanemi's eyes get really wide and he gets lock jaw, and he seethes and he tries to hold back any noise, but it just shreds the poor guys throat, and now he's sore, and it hurts him to moan, but he just can't help it, you feel so fucking good- and all for him? It's all for him?

-Shakes. Sobs. Sounds incredibly desperate, don't let the facade fool you. If he loves you, he's a crier.

-Also physically cums a lot. Not just by how many orgasms, but by how much each time is. I think he's got an obnoxiously low set of balls. He's made to breed, the poor bastard. If he can't let go in you, both of you are covered in it by the end of the night.

-Sanemi has yet to tap out before you.

Kyōjurō Rengoku

-Cums a lot.

-Rengoku has good stamina, but once he cums, he's done for, no more. He can keep going if he really wants to, or if you look like you really need him, but chances are the first round wad more than enough.

-vocal, but in a fatherly way. Sex with Rengoku is probably very... comfortable.

-Until he cums and now you're sticky from your chest to your upper thigh. The range of his shot is insane. He cums buckets, and he barely blinks. His breathing gets a little ragged, and his chest a little shakey, but that's it.

-He needs to go night night after, though. Feeling any amount of joy that doesn't come from stuffing his face does a number on him emotionally and physically. He needs a cuddle and a conversation about... idk, taxes after.

-Won't beg to cum in you, but really, really wants to.

-He always pulls out like a gentleman (if you can be much of a gentleman when you're balls deep), but you can always tell that he wants to see your face so bad when he pumps you full.

-Will not ask. That'd be rude.

-Talks you through your orgasm, but that's another post for another day.

Enmu

-Fuck, I just know he's a screamer. He cums so hard.

-This guy's a fucking mess, but it takes work.

-Enmu is such a good submissive that you're always shocked when he decides to mouth off to you, or when he forgets a command. Not too shocked, though. It's very clearly intentional. It always is.

-He gives himself a bit in between each 'screw up' to make sure he's edged himself mentally properly (very hard, he's almost always some kind of aroused, and he's prone to cumming untouched, so that build up is a little diificult.)

-While he doesn't struggle to ask for things, and his dignity is subzero, Enmu still appreciates a stray chase here and there. After all, it's the only thing mentally stimulating enough for him to cum.

-In any normal dynamic with Enmu, he isn't often left using his dick. So when you've got a spear through his wrists, locking them behind his back, one hand pulling his hair, the other jerking his cock with thoughtless speed-

-Enmu can never cum harder than when he's recieving borderline abuse. His dick looks irritated, going untouched for months previous, and now it's receiving all this attention. Can you blame him for being this loud?

-His legs shake, his whole body recoils. He drools and screams- laughs and wails. He cries with the brightest smile you've ever seen. His hips buck up. You're not being gentle, and he's so, so happy. The orgasm is ripping through every nerve in his body.

-He feels like he's in the sun again.

-He's hoping Muzan can see him look so pathetic. You're just hoping the demon lord stays out of your man's head.

Akaza

-cums like a horse.

-a lover, truly. That's the only word encompassing enough to describe Akaza's efforts sexually. He's a fantastic lover.

-... who can go for hours... days even and never get tired. Every orgasm blows off his shoulders- It's all about you. It always has been, it always will be.

-You've made him cum hard before, it's a rarity, but it's possible... Its just nothing feels as good to him as watching you cum, so he'll do whatever must be done-

-and if that means pumping you full again and again, until you're leaking from every accessible orifice, so be it.

-He'll lick your hole clean, reveling in the way you twitch after your.... you lost count after the fifth one. That won't stop him from tongue fucking you.

-His cum tastes... shockingly good. You like to give him head, and then come up to give him a kiss. He'll pull your tongue down, wanting to see it in your mouth just before you swallow. You always look so proud of yourself. He can't help but reward you with a kiss before you even get it down.

-there's way to much for one swallow. You can barely manage to keep all of it in your mouth while showing him. Your effort is precious, though.

-Akaza looks really good with cum on his lips. It's one of the only times you see him really flustered.

[mercy-burning]

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be... 

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

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[buckets-and-trees]

The Silence of the Hushed Sublime

Collection: CEDAR TREES Characters/Pairings: King!Steve Rogers x Queen!Reader Word Count: 4.8k Summary: A morning one month after the Spring Equinox. You savor some of the precious time before you as king and queen have to take up your royal duties - but this morning will be different than any that came before.

Content & Warnings: royal au, pregnancy conditions, discussion of pregnancy and children, smut: breast play, unprotected vaginal intercourse, brief cock stroking and vaginal fingering, edging into a pregnancy kink (probably)

Author Notes: I PROMISED I'D UPDATE SOMETHING TO CELEBRATE 2200 FOLLOWERS, AND HERE IT IS!While a few others put up a fight, and even temporarily edged into the lead, King Steve came out triumphant in the end! It's been a busy summer with other projects, so I was thrilled to see him leading most of the time because it gave me the perfect excuse to prioritize him! Also... even though I've been planning this chapter for months with very clear ideas of its outline, the muse still surprised me, but I won't say more than that for now...

Narrative Notes: To read previous pieces chronologically, refer to the masterlist for the Cedar Trees Collection.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The soft song of birds coaxes you into consciousness, and you are susprised to find yourself awake before Steve - a rare thing. Before him, you were never much for mornings, but now you enjoy the time bathed in the glow of the warm morning sunlight and blissfully showered in his attention, woken up with kisses and soft murmurings, and his beard against your neck, your shoulder, your cheek.

But this morning, as you slowly come into consciousness, you roll to your side, careful not to disturb him, and smile as you get a rare opportunity to study his face without distraction and without him knowing.

Your eyes trace the strong line of his jaw, softened by his beard, and you resist the urge to reach out and run your fingers through it. His lips are slightly parted, and you can hear the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. His brow is smooth, free from the creases of concentration or worry that often mark it during the day. In sleep, he looks younger, more carefree.

You let your gaze wander down to his broad shoulders, exposed above the sheets. The early morning light casts a golden glow on his skin, highlighting the contours of his muscles. Even in repose, there's a quiet strength to his features that never fails to captivate you.

As you watch him, a wave of tenderness washes over you. This man, your husband, your king - he's everything you never knew you wanted or needed. The love you feel for him sometimes overwhelms you with its intensity.

Your hand drifts down to rest on your belly. You haven't told him yet, wanting to be absolutely certain, but you're fairly sure now. The nausea that's been plaguing you in the mornings, the tenderness in your breasts, the absence of your monthly courses - all signs point to the fact that you're with child.

As if sensing your scrutiny, Steve begins to stir. His eyelids flutter, and a small groan escapes his lips as he stretches. When his eyes finally open, they immediately find yours, and a sleepy smile spreads over his face.

"Good morning, my love," Steve murmurs, his voice husky with sleep. He reaches out to pull you closer, nuzzling into your neck. "This is a pleasant surprise. Usually, I'm the one watching you sleep."

You can't help but laugh softly, running your fingers through his tousled hair. "I couldn't resist. You looked so peaceful."

His arms tighten around you, and you feel the familiar warmth of desire spreading through your body. After months of marriage, he ignites fire along your skin every time he touches you.

As he holds you, you can feel your heart racing, the weight of your secret pressing upon you. You want to tell him, to share this joy and excitement with him, but a small voice inside your head whispers caution.

It's still early, too early. You don't want to get his hopes up, or worse, disappoint him if something were to happen. You feel you should wait a little longer, just to be sure.

Steve senses your hesitation and pulls back slightly to look at you. "Is everything alright?" he asks, concern etched in his features.

You force a smile and nod. "Yes, everything's fine. I was just thinking about how fortunate I am to have you."

He smiles back at you before leaning in for a soft kiss. His lips are gentle against yours, full of love and warmth.

"I'm the fortunate one," he says as he pulls away.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, Steve begins tracing circles on your cheek with his thumb. "I've been meaning to ask you something," he says after a moment of silence.

"What is it?" You ask curiously.

"I know we've talked about starting a family one day," Steve starts nervously. "But I was wondering if...if now might be the right time?"

Your heart swells at his words and the butterflies in your stomach flutter frantically. Does he already suspect? Or is this just a coincidence?

"I think that would be wonderful," you say softly, unable to keep the happiness out of your voice.

Steve's face lights up in excitement and relief all at once. He wraps his arms around you tightly and presses kisses along your neck while whispering words of love and excitement.

As he peppers small kisses along your jawline and collarbone, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You can't believe how lucky you are to have found such a caring and loving partner.

Your legs tangle with his, and you pull his lips to yours, engaging him in a long, languid kiss. Your bodies move together, easing into lustier territory, but neither of you feeling the pressure to rush things along.

After a few more minutes, you break off the kiss and rest your forehead to his. He breathes you in, and your chest tightens in contentment.

But then suddenly, you’re overcome with a wave of nausea rolling over you. You quickly sit up, pressing a hand to your mouth.

"My love?" he questions, reaching for you, voice full of concern.

You shake your head, unable to speak as you fight the urge to be sick. Steve sits up immediately, worry etched on his face. He rubs your back soothingly as you take deep breaths.

After a moment, the nausea passes. You look at Steve, a mix of excitement and trepidation in your eyes. Your heart races. This is the moment, you realize. You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "Steve, I have something to tell you."

His blue eyes widen, a flicker of understanding passing through them. He takes your hand, his thumb stroking your knuckles gently. "What is it, my love?" he asks softly, though there's an undercurrent of anticipation in his voice.

You take another deep breath, your free hand instinctively moving to rest on your stomach. "I believe I might already be with child," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, Steve is utterly still, his hand frozen on your back. Then, his face transforms, a look of pure joy and wonder spreading across his features. "Truly?" he breathes, his voice filled with wonder and joy.

You nod, tears of happiness welling in your eyes. "I'm not entirely certain yet, but all the signs are there. I've been starting to feel ill in the mornings, I’ve now fully missed my courses twice…”

Steve's arms are around you in an instant, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel his body tremble with emotion, and he presses kisses to every inch of your face, exuberantly showering your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, lips, nose, jaw, temples with his excitement.

Steve pulls back slightly to look at you, cupping your face in his hands and brushing away a stray tear that has escaped down your cheek. "This is the greatest news I could have ever hoped for," says, voice thick with adoration.

You smile radiantly, bursting with happiness, thrilled to finally be sharing this with him, the one who holds every piece of your heart.

You're overwhelmed by the love and joy radiating from Steve's eyes. Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you pull him in for another kiss. This one is different from the gentle, sleepy kisses you shared earlier. It's filled with passion, promise, and the excitement of your shared future.

Your lips move against his with increasing urgency, and Steve responds in kind. His hands, which were cradling your face, now slide down to your waist, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown, igniting a fire within you.

As the kiss deepens, you part your lips, inviting him in. Steve's tongue meets yours, and a soft moan escapes you. The sound seems to fuel his passion further, and he gently lowers you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, as you deepen the kiss. Steve's hand caresses your side, sliding down to your thigh and hitching your leg over his hip. The weight of his body presses you into the mattress, igniting sparks of pleasure everywhere you touch.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, pausing to lavish attention on the sensitive spot just below your ear that never fails to make you shiver.

"My love," he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "My queen. The mother of my child." Each endearment is punctuated with a kiss, each one sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

Your hands slide down his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin. You arch into him, craving more contact. Steve's hand skims down your side, over your hip, and then slowly pushes up your nightgown. His fingers trace patterns on your bare thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Steve," you breathe, your voice a mix of pleasure and need.

Steve's eyes darken with desire at the sound of his name on your lips. In one fluid motion, he flips you both over, rolling onto his back and settling you atop him. The sudden change in position elicits a gasp of surprise and delight from you.

Your nightgown has ridden up, bunched around your waist, leaving your lower half bare against his skin. Steve's hands slide up your thighs, over your hips, and finally come up to span your waist. His thumbs stroke the soft skin just beneath your breasts, sending shivers of anticipation through your body.

Steve's gaze roams over you, drinking in the sight of you above him, bathed in the soft morning light.

"You're breathtaking," he murmurs, voice rough with want.

It sends shivers up your spine, and you place your hands on his broad chest for balance, feeling his heart racing beneath your fingertips. Slowly, deliberately, you roll your hips

Your movements elicit a deep groan from Steve, his fingers digging into your hips. The friction sends waves of pleasure through you, and you repeat the motion, savoring the way his body responds to yours.

Steve's hands slide up your sides, taking your nightgown with them. You raise your arms, allowing him to pull the garment over your head and toss it aside. His eyes darken as they roam over your newly exposed skin, lingering on the subtle changes in your body that hint at the new life growing within you.

"So beautiful," he breathes, his voice filled with awe and desire.

Steve's hands explore your body, caressing every curve and plane with reverence. When his palms brush over your breasts, you gasp.

He chuckles. He’s always loved your breasts.

Steve's thumbs brush over your sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You arch into his touch, craving more. His hands cup your breasts gently, massaging them with just the right amount of pressure.

"Are they more sensitive now?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, unable to form words as he continues his ministrations. Steve sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you as he brings his mouth to your breast. The first touch of his lips against your sensitive skin makes you cry out softly.

His tongue swirls around your nipple before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. The sensation is almost overwhelming in its intensity. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Steve lavishes attention on both breasts, alternating between gentle kisses, licks, and soft suckling. Your body writhes atop his, pleasure building with each touch. Steve's hands roam your back, your hips, your thighs, as if he can't get enough of feeling your skin beneath his palms.

You can feel his arousal pressing insistently against you, and you roll your hips again, relishing the groan that escapes him. Steve's head falls back, exposing the column of his throat. Unable to resist, you lean forward and press your lips to his neck, trailing kisses up to his jaw.

"My love," Steve breathes, his voice rough with desire. "I need you."

His words send a jolt down your spine. You capture his lips in a passionate kiss, pouring all your love and desire into it. Steve's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you slowly lower yourself onto him.

You both gasp as you sink down onto him, your bodies joining together. The sensation is exquisite, and for a moment, you simply hold still, savoring the feeling of completeness. Steve's hands tighten on your hips, his breath coming in short pants against your neck.

"You feel incredible," he murmurs, pressing hot kisses along your collarbone.

Slowly, you begin to move, rolling your hips in a steady rhythm. Steve matches your movements, thrusting up to meet you. The pleasure builds with each motion, waves of sensation washing over you.

Steve's hands roam your body, caressing every inch of skin he can reach. His touch is reverent as it always is, but there’s also an almost imperceptible change in it, more protective. When his fingers brush over your stomach, where your child grows, a surge of emotion wells up within you.

He looks back up into your eyes, his blue irises bold with an intensity that always takes your breath away. But they’re also glassy with unshed tears of pride.

You lean down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, your bare skin pressing against his chest, his coarse chest hair playing deliciously against your nipples. You grind down on his hips again, needing more friction.

Steve groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he matches your rhythm. The pleasure builds with each movement, waves of sensation washing over you both. Your bodies move together in perfect synchronicity, a dance you've perfected over months of loving each other.

You break the kiss, gasping for air as you arch your back, changing the angle slightly. The new position sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, and you cry out softly. Steve's eyes are fixed on you, drinking in every expression of pleasure that crosses your face.

"That's it, my love," he murmurs encouragingly, his voice rough with desire. "Let me see you."

His words spur you on, and you increase your pace, chasing the building pleasure. Steve's hands slide up your sides to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. The dual sensations of him inside you and his hands on your breasts send you spiraling higher. Your movements become more frantic as you near your peak.

Steve senses your urgency and slides one hand down between your bodies, his skilled fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation is almost too much, and you cry out his name as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Your inner walls clench around him, and Steve groans deeply. His hips buck up into you as he follows you over the edge, his release pulsing inside you.

For a moment, you both remain still, panting heavily as you come down from your shared high. Steve's arms wrap around you, holding you close against his chest. You nuzzle into his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin.

"I love you," you murmur, your voice heavy with emotion. "So much."

Steve's hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, gently guiding your face to his. His eyes, still dark with passion, search yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

"And I love you," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible." His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly.

Then he gently rolls you both onto your sides, keeping you close as he softly strokes your hair. His other hand rests protectively over your lower abdomen, a gesture that makes your heart swell with love.

"Our child," he murmurs in awe, his eyes shining with joy as they meet yours. "I can scarcely believe it."

You smile, placing your hand over his. "I know. It still feels surreal to me too."

Steve leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You've given me everything, my love. You brought vibrant color to this kingdom, and now a family and a future brighter than I could have ever dreamed."

You feel tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love and the enormity of the moment. Steve leans in, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to your lips. When he pulls back, there's a hint of mischief in his smile.

"Though I must say," he adds, his tone lighter, "if this is how your body reacts while pregnant, I may have to get you with child more often.”

You laugh, playfully swatting his chest. "Careful what you wish for, my king. We may end up with a whole brood of little ones running about the castle."

Steve's eyes light up at the thought. "And what a joyous chaos that would be," he says, pulling you closer. "Our own little kingdom within these walls."

You snuggle into his warmth, relishing the feeling of his strong arms around you. "It would certainly keep us on our toes," you muse, imagining the pitter-patter of tiny feet echoing through the corridors.

Steve's hand moves to your belly again, his touch gentle and reverent. "I can't wait to meet this little one," he says softly. "To see your eyes in their face, or perhaps your smile."

You place your hand over his, intertwining your fingers. "Or your sharp nose, and your strength.”

His expression softens as he gazes at you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your stomach. "How are you feeling? Truly?"

You take a moment to consider, assessing your body. "A bit nauseous still," you admit. "But mostly, I feel happy. Excited. And a little scared," you add softly.

Steve's arms tighten around you reassuringly. "It's alright to be scared," he murmurs. "This is new territory for both of us. We will face it together, as we always have."

You nod, burrowing closer into his warmth. "I know. There is simply so much to think about. So much to prepare."

Steve nods thoughtfully, his fingers gently combing through your hair. "Indeed there is. But we have time, my love. We will take it one step at a time."

You smile, feeling comforted by his steady presence. "You are right. Though I suppose we should start thinking about when to make the announcement."

Steve's eyes light up at the thought. "Ah yes, sharing our joy with the kingdom." He pauses, a hint of concern crossing his face. "Though perhaps we should wait a bit longer, to be certain?"

You nod in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. I would like to consult with the royal physician first, to confirm everything is progressing as it should."

"Of course," Steve says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "We will keep this our little secret for now."

“I do think it in order that we soon bring Lord Barnes into our confidence on this,” you said, drumming your fingers lightly over Steve’s chest. “And Viscount Coulson.”

“You need not feel obligated, we can alter our morning routine and breakfast privately again,” clearly thinking you felt it would be necessary to explain the morning sickness when it plagued you in their presence.

“Oh, no, no,” you counter. “They should know. They are your closest advisors and our trusted friends, are they not?”

“Bucky all my life, and Coulson these many years I’ve been king.”

“Then we will tell them over the next few days,” you insist.

“And the Duchess?” Steve queries.

You bite your lip and drop your gaze for a moment.

Steve lets out a teasing but incredulous laugh. “She already knows.”

“She suspects. But you know she knows everything - she is the one who said something to me a few weeks back to get me questioning my condition myself.”

Steve shakes his head. “Unsurprising, really.”

“You have no idea,” you laugh.

Steve is pensive for a moment. “Did you say a few weeks ago?”

“Mhmm,” you nod.

He searches your face, and you try briefly to hold back a smile. Your brilliant king is putting pieces into place.

“Spring solstice, in the forest…”

“I was only hesitantly starting to think I may be with child then.”

There is no unease in his face, only love.

His hand splays protectively over your stomach once more. "I swear to you both, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and happy."

You place your hand over his, intertwining your fingers. "I know you will. You're already an incredible husband, a stalwart king, and you'll be an amazing father."

Steve's eyes twinkle with mischief as he pulls you closer once more. "Speaking of being an amazing husband," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "perhaps I should demonstrate my devotion once more?" His hand slides teasingly along your thigh.

A shiver of anticipation runs through you. "Oh? And how do you propose to do that, my king?" you tease, running your fingers through his beard.

"Well," Steve says, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you, "I believe it starts something like this..." He dips his head, pressing a trail of hot kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.

You gasp as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot, your body arching into his touch, fingers tangling in his hair. “My, my, Your Majesty, you are insatiable."

He grins, pulling you closer. "Only for you, my love. Always for you." Steve captures your lips in yet another searing kiss, rolling you onto your back. His body covers yours, warm and solid, as his hands begin to roam. You arch into him, always ready to be taken by this man, nay, yearning for it.

As Steve's hands roam your body, igniting sparks of pleasure everywhere they touch, a sudden wave of nausea washes over you. You break the kiss abruptly, turning your head to the side and taking deep breaths.

"My love?" Steve's voice is filled with concern as he pulls back slightly, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "Are you alright?"

You nod, still focusing on your breathing. "Just a moment of queasiness," you manage to say. "It will pass."

Steve immediately shifts, gathering you into his arms and cradling you against his chest. His hand rubs soothing circles on your back as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. "Perhaps we should rest a while longer," he suggests softly.

You nestle into his embrace, feeling the nausea slowly subside. "I'm sorry," you murmur against neck.

“Do not apologize, your body is engaged in an arduous and demanding task.”

You take a few deep breaths. “Perhaps some water?” you ask.

Steve’s action is immediate, gently extricating himself from you and swiftly crossing the room to pour a glass of water from the crystal pitcher nearby. He presses it into your hands, and resumes his spot next to you as you drink.

“Better?” he asks once you have finished sipping down the cool and calming liquid.

“Mostly,” you answer, reaching to set the glass on the bedside table.

“What else do can I do?” he asks.

Truly feeling the nausea melted away, you turn back to him, an impish grin on your face, and reach for his hand. Steve's eyes darken with renewed desire as you guide his hand between your legs. He groans softly, feeling your warmth and wetness against his fingers. "Are you certain?" he asks, his voice husky with want but tinged with concern.

You nod, pulling him closer. "I am. I want you, Steve. Always."

He needs no further encouragement. His skilled fingers begin to stroke and tease, drawing soft gasps and moans from your lips. You arch into his touch, craving more. Steve's mouth finds yours in a passionate kiss as his fingers continue their ministrations.

Your hands roam his body, tracing the familiar planes of muscle and sinew. When you reach between his legs, you find him already hard and ready. Steve groans into your mouth as you wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly.

"Please," you breathe against his lips. "I need-”

A soft knock at the door interrupts you both. You freeze, eyes wide, as Steve calls out, "Who is it?"

"It's Lord Barnes, Your Majesty," comes the muffled reply.

Steve withdraws the two fingers that were buried in your cunt, and you whine softly at the loss of him.

"I apologize for the early intrusion,” he explains, “but there's an urgent matter requiring your attention."

Steve groans softly, resting his forehead against yours. "Of course there is," he mutters, then calls out, "One moment, Bucky."

You can't help but giggle softly at his frustrated expression. "Duty calls, my love," you whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

He shoots you a playful glare before nipping at your jaw. "Don't move," he whispers. "I'll be right back."

Steve rolls out of bed, hastily pulling on a robe. You admire the view as he crosses the room, enjoying the way the fabric clings to his muscular form. He throws you a knowing smirk over his shoulder before opening the door just enough to speak with Bucky.

You can't make out their hushed conversation, but you see Steve's posture stiffen slightly. Whatever the matter is, it's serious enough to warrant immediate attention. You sit up, pulling the sheet up to cover your you. After a few moments, Steve nods and Bucky leaves.

Steve closes the door methodically, and his brow is furrowed in worry and thought as he turns back to look at you.

“Hydras forces are mobilizing near our northern border. Our scouts report they may be planning an incursion within the fortnight."

You are no stranger to the bloody and barbaric history Hydra has unleashed on many kingdoms over the last century. They showed no preference for where they tried to conquer, striking at kingdoms all across the continent. They moved swiftly, always emerging out of the unknown and shifting shadows they grew in, rising up in violence, brutality, and chaos. They tried to mount a campaign against your grandfather’s kingdom before you were born, and luckily, with the aid of allies, he was able to fight back and send them back.

They had struck many others before, and had struck twice on the other side of he continent since then.

Now, it seems, they were here.

“I must-”

“Yes,” you nod. “You must act with all wisdom and haste. Go.”

He nods solemnly, turning to go.

Steve hesitates for a moment, his hand on the door handle. He turns back to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love, concern, and determination. In three long strides, he's back at your side, cupping your face in his hands.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Both of you."

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours, soft yet urgent. Steve's kiss is deep and passionate, conveying all the words left unspoken between you. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as if he's trying to memorize every detail of this moment. The rough texture of his beard against your skin, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. You melt into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pour all your love and support into it.

When Steve finally pulls away, his eyes are dark with emotion. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"I love you too," you whisper, your voice wavering only slightly.

"I'll return as soon as I can," he promises softly. His hand drifts down to rest briefly on your stomach, a gesture that makes your heart swell with emotion.

You nod, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. "Be safe, my love. We'll be waiting for you."

Steve's gaze lingers for a moment before he straightens up, then turns away with visible reluctance. But his steps grow purposeful and full of determination as he strides towards the door. The air around him seems to shift and crackle with raw power, his posture regal and commanding as his shoulders square and his jaw clenches. By the time he reaches the door, he has transformed into the king revered and respected by so many - every inch of him radiating authority and strength.

You are no fool, you know he’s walking into dangerous paths, and though you are fearful of the threat and how it will play out over the days and possibly weeks ahead, there is a fire of hope that you will guard and fan the flames of because you believe in him.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

SO

OKAY

I have vague plot points that I did intend on incorporating later in this collection, but THIS HYDRA ONE WAS NEWS TO ME! I thought we were just in store for a nice pregnancy news sharing morning, and then BAM, the muse was like, "YOU WANT SURPRISE NEWS, HERE'S SOME SURPRISE NEWS!" Definitely threw a wrench into my original plans! BUT HYDRA GOTTA HYDRA, AS THE KIDS SAY. no, they don't, they don't say that...

READ THE NEXT PART: COMING SOON read more of the Cedar Trees AU

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[tragedy-of-commons]

“Cat.” And Dan Heng

You can't breathe.

Maybe it's the innate delirium that comes with the hellish hours of the night, or maybe you've just finally lost it, but you've been laughing at the image displayed on the blinding light of your phone screen for half an hour.

Your face hurts from all the smiling, and you've begun to muffle your wheezes into your flattened pillow, completely gone.

The image in question?

It's a soggy, completely drenched, black cat. Cute animals always pop up on your feed, yes, but this is different! You're entrenched in hysterics because this kitty resembles someone you know to an almost uncanny degree.

Underneath the picture, the caption of the post reads:

🐱 what would his name be?? comment below! #catgram #ca...

Without hesitating any longer, you almost choke on another giggle, swiping your thumb down to add your very correct answer to the pile of suggestions below.

yournameshinjikin: DAN HENG IS HIS NAME ALL OF YOU R WRONG !! 🗣🗣🔥🔥

Satisfied with this, you wipe a nonexistent tear from your eye. You miss your boyfriend dearly, so perhaps you're just seeing him everywhere - but this photo has truly done you in. The kitty also has wide eyes stained river teal, ringed with softer gray patches of fur that resemble the shape of Dan Heng's eyeliner.

...also, he does look as pathetic as the cat and question after a shower. Too bad you won't be seeing him for at least another week; the Astral Express is fickle when it comes to the timing of certain emergency trailblazing expeditions.

Your laughter subsides, and then you're left with an emptiness in your heart.

Both of you try to message everyday, but he is somewhat of (and you say this with love) a dry texter. It's not comparable at all to what it's like spending time with him in person, and he knows that very well. You shift and wiggle back under the covers, assuming snorkmimi position.

Maybe he's thinking about you too. Hopefully. Your phone burns with radiation and low battery from putting off sleep all night, but you decide to delay it just a bit longer. You traverse your windows until you find the neglected messages app, no unreads, as predicted.

But you do almost shoot up in bed when you see the little green bubble in the corner of Dan Heng's icon, signaling that he's online. System time doesn't often sync up with whatever planet he's on, so it makes sense he'd be awake; it's probably the middle of the day where he is.

One little text won't hurt, you decide, hope blossoming in your chest as you open up your last conversation with him. The keyboard thrums under your excited fingertips.

That spark dies almost too fast. You type out various mishmashes of greetings, deleting them as they pop up on screen. Doubts and anxieties that never plague you during the day creep in, forcing you to overthink every single variation of 'I'M GOING TO BLOW UP A LIBRARY IF YOU DON'T GET HOME SOON' and 'u busy? :3'

You huff into the pillow which you've wrestled into your lap, eventually settling on a response, practically chewing your nails to bits like this is a first crush and not your life partner.

The sound of it sending is sobering.

You: [One game attached] Let's play 8 Ball! 🎱

You hope he's eating enough. His little ragtag group (that take up the task of mothering him when you're not around) in your heart, must be enjoying a filling meal at a local restaurant, not at all in peril danger.

To your dread and delight, the little seen indicator pops up beneath the game link. You wait for him to join the match and play a round, but his typing bubble appears. Dan Heng has something to say.

The only thing that could possibly pull you away from your phone right now would be an incoming hurricane. Actually, no, you'd fly away with the wind and rain before that. It vibrates finally--

Dan Heng: Are you okay? It's early over there

Your chest tightens painfully, which you laugh off.

You: yeah ofc!! just adasdawe3u4eusu missing u and stuff. didn't wanna be weird. hope ure having a good deal of fun w everyone

The seen indicator materializes again, but no typing bubble pops up immediately. Why is this so awkward?! Honestly, you should have just chanced your luck and called him instead...

You're in the middle of crafting a topic change before Dan Heng beats you to the punch.

Dan Heng: It's not weird

Dan Heng: I miss you as well. The journey has been standard, but I think you would be particularly fond of this planet; I've forwarded some of March's photos to the Express' archives and also your email

You're smiling so hard that it nearly splits your face in half. Email is such a questionable channel of correspondence nowadays... you and him don't work an office job! The mental image of him in a pressed dress shirt and checkered tie is enough to remedy that leftover icky, nagging sadness.

You: YOUY DID???! thank you 😭😭 im gonna check as soon as i clean out all my spam

Dan Heng: Your proclivity for clicking malicious links is... unique.

You miss him so much. A giggle escapes your lips at the halfhearted jab.

You: thats low hanging fruit dan heng............ ill never recover from my broken heart

You: come home soon ok ? also wtf dont ignore my 8 ball invite </3

You almost hear him sigh. Almost. A harrowing minute or two passes.

Dan Heng: [One game attached] It's your move! 🎱

Dan Heng: Go to sleep please

You have reacted to the previous message with '💗'.

Satisfied, your battery flickers at 3%. Thinking of his stupid kissable face, you sit up to charge the device. Before you do so, however, you change his icon from a nice candid to that soggy wet cat from earlier. It'll have to be your lighthouse in the midst of the dense fog until he gets his ass home!

You're looking forward to pestering him. Dan Heng won't put up a fight.

[somerandomdudelmao]

Okay okay hear me out.

We all know that Donnie was devastated to discover what happened to his brothers. But in light of the most recent update, new meaning has been added to the panels of him watching their deaths' play out.

Look at him here. At first glance, it simply seemed that Donnie was grieving the loss of his brothers. "We lost. They're all gone. My dumb dumb brothers sacrificed themselves. I'm alone."

BUT after today's update, we realize that NOOO he's not just regretting that they're gone, he's BLAMING HIMSELF. Not only is he sad, he feels GUILT.

Looking back, his face clearly says, "I could have stopped it. I could have saved them. I failed. This is my fault."

"If I had been with you, the outcome might have been better." What hurts is that Don is RIGHT. He WAS the keystone of the resistance. Everything does indeed fall apart soon after he's gone (hence the episode name). It's a cruel, ironic twist on Survivor's Guilt-- because in that timeline he didn't survive. He was gone. And he blames himself for being gone.

We often talk about Future Leo's guilt over the apocalypse, but Future Donnie's guilt is not to be taken lightly. It actually makes a LOT of sense for him to blame himself for his family's deaths. We know that all dear Donton has ever wanted is validation for his tech, and his tech is his way of expressing to his family that he loves them. Ergo, all Donnie wants is to make tech to protect his family to Show Them That He Loves Them.

This is probably why he opened up to Raph, all but admitting his guilt over the less-than-perfect security system: it was like saying he and his love failed to protect them for long.

The character analysis deepens~

Here (and throughout all of The Little Things, really) we see him taking steps to make sure his brothers (and the resistance) will be taken care of. Delegating everything, even The Little Things (ah HA) all to ensure that all he does for them (to prove his love, of course) continues to happen.

Even here, when Donnie has been hanging onto life for so long that the Kraang are shocked he's still alive, Donnie wants to help. He could not "sit here and listen to them get killed," because he is Donatello, and he loves his family. Cass, you said it yourself: Violence is his love language. Rushing into battle, decimating the Kraang, saving his family. Because he may be dying, he may be clinging to life by a few threads, but he is Hamato Donatello and he loves his family.

But in the end, that's what he does. In the end, he DOES sit there and watch them get killed. Watches with his very own tech. One. By. One. They. Die. And deep down, Donnie thinks that if he would have been there, he could have found a way to make a generator NOT from Raph's heart. That he could have supported Mikey enough to keep him from disintegrating. That he could have protected Leo in those final, self sacrificial moments.

Donatello blames himself for not being there for his brothers. He blames himself for his tech not being flawless enough. He blames himself for dying on them.

Which is why he won't rest until they're ALL back home.

He is Mr. "I Can Fix This", so of COURSE he's going to fix this.

And afterwards, when his family is SAFE and HOME and TOGETHER he's going to apologize for "letting them die" and he's FINALLY going to get some SENSE knocked into his OWN dumb dumb brain (probably by Dr. Delicate Touch). His brothers love him because he's DONNIE. I cannot WAIT for the moment when they make him realize that they didn't miss his tech, they missed HIM. He's gonna realize just how utterly loved he is and I'm so excited for you, Cass, to show us that moment.

(I apologize; this got out of hand quickly, but the analysis has been bouncing around my head all day and I NEEDED to share it)

OH THIS IS ONE GREAT ANALYSIS RIGHT HERE

[punkshort]

Come Fly With Me

Thank you anon for this request!

I'm double dipping and using this as an entry into my own AU August Writing Challenge ❤️

Pairing: pilot!joel miller x flight attendant!reader one-shot

Summary: You and Joel have a little fun in the cockpit.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), competency kink, public sex (kind of?), unprotected piv sex, reference to blow job, light spanking

WC: 2.5K

Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. Welcome on board flight 1092, flyin' from Orlando to Austin. Our flight time today is 2 hours and 40 minutes, but I know a few shortcuts, I'll get us there a little quicker.

You smiled to yourself when you heard the familiar ripple of laughter cut through the plane.

On a personal note, this flight is particularly special for me. My wife is on board today, so if you see her, please don't listen if she tells you 'bout my drivin'.

Captain Miller just got married a few days ago and it was still strange to see the gold band around his finger. It seemed he was struggling with it, too, because you caught him fiddling with it every time you glanced inside the cockpit.

You listened from the galley, doing your checks and making sure everything was locked and secured as Joel announced the temperature, how to operate the systems installed in the seats, and how to call an attendant for help. It was a speech you heard a thousand times.

Finally, he wrapped things up with on behalf of myself and the crew, thank you for choosing us as your airline today. Have a wonderful flight.

You stood at your post with a smile plastered across your face as you watched Marissa and Brian explain to bored looking faces how to engage the floatation device and oxygen masks hidden around each passenger when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You didn't even turn around. You knew who it was.

"Once we're clear, come and see me, sweetheart."

A thrill of excitement slithered down your spine and you tilted your face to the side so you could whisper, "you're a married man, now. We shouldn't be doing that anymore."

"A ring 'round my finger ain't changin' a goddamn thing here."

And then he was gone.

It took nearly an hour. A full hour where you had to do your first round of service, handing out snacks and drinks to people who mostly ignored you and rarely offered their thanks before you brought your cart back to the galley to clean up.

You heard the door to the cockpit open and Frank, the co-pilot, stepped out and stretched. He saw you and smiled, nodded his head, then asked if he could take ginger ale, like always. And your response was always the same.

"You don't need to ask, Frank."

He grinned and gave you a little salute before he did his rounds. Frank was very personable. He enjoyed meeting new people and hearing their stories. When an extrovert has a job where he meets new people every six hours or so, it's a match made in heaven.

And it's especially good for you and Joel because you both know he won't be back for at least half an hour, probably more.

Glancing around to make sure none of the other flight crew saw you, you tapped lightly on the door then slipped inside.

No matter how many times you saw it, and at that point it had to have been hundreds, the cockpit always left you breathless. When you first step in, you're instantly overwhelmed with lights, buttons, levers and monitors. The control panel was absolutely massive and intimidating. And it was one of the things that attracted you to Joel in the first place.

Watching him operate a plane with such ease, hardly even having to think as he went through the motions turned you on from day one. Part of you always thought he knew it, too. From the moment he saw you, he knew he had you in the palm of his hand.

And you loved every second of it, married or not.

"Captain," you said breathlessly, then grinned when he turned around and slid off his headset. The ache between your legs had been steadily growing for the past hour and you were at the point where if he didn't do something about it within the next five minutes, you would take matters into your own hands. Literally.

"C'mere, darlin'. Why don't you sit on my lap?"

He patted his thighs, clad in dark navy blue, same as your skirt, and you giggled before doing as you were told.

He hummed appreciatively and ran his big hands up and down your legs, which were spread wide and straddling him.

"Pretty little thing," he murmured. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and slowly, subtly, began to roll your hips.

"What if someone catches us one day?" you whispered before leaning forward to taste the skin under his jaw.

"Ain't no one gonna catch us," he assured you, dragging his hands up and over your hips to cup your ass and give it a firm squeeze.

You groaned and started to move your hips faster. You could feel his cock stiffening against his leg and you felt yourself clench around nothing. Fuck, you wanted him so badly. Every single time it was like this. Your need for him was never quenched. But still, you enjoyed teasing him from time to time.

"Didn't you just get married a few days ago?"

You felt his hands pause momentarily, leaving your skirt hiked up around your waist but your underwear still on.

"What's your point?"

You smiled and bit gently at his earlobe. "My point is, wasn't your wedding night enough to satisfy you?"

His hands resumed exploring your body and you felt a deep rumble vibrate from his chest.

"You know the answer to that."

And he was right. You did.

The answer was the reason he asked you to come see him in the first place.

Joel slid his fingers past the waistline of your panties, swiping them through your folds with a pained groan.

"Fuck, so wet, baby," he said. Your hips tried to chase his fingers, tried to keep him where you needed him most, but he was too fast.

"You gonna fly this plane and fuck me at the same time, Captain?" you murmured seductively. He smirked and nodded.

With your breath coming in quick little excited pants, you tugged on his zipper while he pulled your panties to the side.

"Need me that bad, huh?" he teased, and normally you might say something smart right back, but on that particular day you wanted him more than usual. Maybe it was the gold band that was catching the sun in just the right way, the thought of him being married now egging you on and making you needier, but whatever it was had the seam between your legs absolutely dripping for his attention.

"Oh!" you cried out, then immediately slapped your palm over your mouth when you first felt him breech your opening. He chuckled and continued to guide your hips down, watching in a trance as you took every inch of him deep within your walls while you whimpered in his ear and tried you best to remain quiet.

"Shh, darlin', I got you," he said softly, his own face pinched as he tried to hold back from slamming up into you. "I got you. Yeah, feel that? Feel how good you take me?"

You nodded because it was true. You could feel your body relaxing and opening for him, happily welcoming him back in.

He gave you a few minutes to adjust. He always did, and you appreciated that. You were always the one who ended up doing most of the work given the small space, so it was the least he could do.

With a sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder and gazed out at the clouds while he gently stroked your back. The view never got old. It felt so surreal every single time, to be staring out at such beauty while stuffed full of his cock. It didn't get much better than that.

He whispered your name, voice sounding strained, and you lifted your head.

"Who's needy now?" you asked with a grin. He bit lightly at your chin and gave one of your ass cheeks a quick slap with his palm, making you jump and giggle before you began to roll your hips over his lap.

Joel's fingers dug into your skin with a sigh, gazing up at you adoringly while you rode him just the way you liked. There was something so fucking hot about him having complete control over the aircraft, hundreds of lives in his hands every single day, but you were the one who had the power over him. You were the one he yearned for, ached for. Since the first day you were assigned to his crew, he couldn't keep his hands to himself. He began to request you specifically be assigned to his flights as much as your schedules would allow, then one day on a particularly long flight you had brought him something to eat without him even asking. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes and you just desperately wanted to take care of him, so you brazenly dropped to your knees and took him inside your mouth while his eyes fluttered closed, the only noises filling the air came from the back of your throat and the tinny voice echoing through his abandoned headset nearby.

The rest was history.

He wondered if getting married might dull his desire for you, but he was foolish to think his feelings could ever change.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he growled when you picked up the pace and began bouncing in his lap, your tits jostling in your navy blue polo. He feverishly yanked the hem of your shirt up so it bunched up over your breasts and he made a pathetic little noise when he saw the white, lacy bra you had on underneath.

"Look at you, filthy thing," he murmured, squeezing at your covered breasts. "Fuckin' a married man like this. But I bet that just turns you on even more, don't it?"

You moaned and tipped your head back, chin aimed at the ceiling of the cockpit. His lips dragged down your throat, tongue shooting out to taste your skin, careful not to leave a mark. He was convinced at least Frank knew what you were doing in here but he didn't need to give the rest of the crew any reason to gossip.

Air traffic control crackled through the radio, checking in like they usually did when the plane reached a new zone.

"Hang on," he told you, so you gripped his shoulders while he leaned forward to pick up the receiver. His thumb hovered over the button to answer when he gave you a look. "Didn't tell you to stop, did I?"

You grinned and resumed fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed down on the button, dropping his voice to sound more professional when he answered the man on the other end. He confirmed his coordinates, his credentials and his flight pattern with ease, all while you circled your hips and ground yourself down, your clit catching on the coarse hair at the base of his cock. You had to bite back a moan when he was talking, the pleasure mounting low in your belly making it difficult not to make any noise.

Finally, he put the receiver back and you moaned his name, your face buried in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound.

"You fuckin' love this, don't you? Love gettin' fucked in here, love the thrill of it, huh?"

"Yes," you whispered, your eyes squeezing shut as you closed in on your release. "Oh, god, Joel - fuck!" you sobbed when he began to lift his hips from his seat, fucking up into you, matching you thrust for thrust, grunting like an animal in your ear each time your hips made contact.

"Lemme feel you, baby. Wanna feel you shake for me," he said through clenched teeth. You gasped and nodded, mustering every ounce of energy you had left to slam yourself up and down on his thick cock, so desperate to come you didn't care if the door flung open and the whole plane saw what you were doing.

"Tell me how it feels, honey," he said. He must have been close, too. You've done this enough times to know he likes hearing you talk dirty to him right when he's about to come.

"Feels so good," you began, "you always fuck me so good. No one else has - shit - n-no one else has ever... oh, god, Joel," you whined, losing focus when your vision began to blur.

"Don't stop," he begged, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "Keep talkin', baby, please."

"Will you come inside me?" you whispered, your teeth scraping against your lower lip, turning the skin raw. "Wanna feel you inside me the whole flight. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," he gasped, forehead beaded with sweat, face flushed and jaw slack. "Yes, yes, yes... fuck! C'mon!" he groaned, slapping your ass a little harder than before.

You kept babbling, telling him how big he was, how badly you wanted him, how no one else has ever fucked you as good as he does when your voice caught in your throat and you came around his cock with a strangled moan.

He didn't hold back. He circled his arms around your waist and fucked up into you recklessly, your cunt pulsing around him while your chest heaved and your fingers clawed at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself through your high.

At the last second he pressed his face against the side of your neck, pinning you against his chest. He moaned, his mouth falling open when he came, not caring how loud he might have been. It felt too fucking good to feel himself fill you up, feel his hot spend pooling and dripping down his length while he weakly pressed into you, prolonging his orgasm as best he could before his limbs went weak and he sighed against your chest.

You were cooing in his ear, telling him how good he did, how full you were, fucking thanking him while his shoulders sagged and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Can't get enough of you," he whimpered. You grinned and kissed the top of his head before lifting yourself off his lap. He helped you slide your underwear back in place, the fabric immediately soaking with your combined release while you fixed your polo and stood up.

"Shit, my skirt's gonna be wrinkled," you muttered while he tucked himself away and zipped up his pants.

"Next time we'll just have to take it off," he teased, making you giggle and playfully swat at his shoulder.

"Next time? What would your wife have to say about that, Captain?"

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your left hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips. He silently appraised the two rings nesting on your finger with a pleased smirk before letting you go.

"I don't know, you tell me."

You leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against his lips, lingering for an extra moment before pulling away.

"She'd say she can't wait."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ wrapped in red ] j. drysdale

day five of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) surprises Jamie with his Christmas gift early when he gets back from a rough east coast roadie at four in the morning

warning(s) : smut ! oral (m receiving), p in v penetration, unprotected sex (pls be careful), whining, light hair pulling, use of pet names during sex

author’s note : this is me trying to catch up w the schedule lmaoo anyway … enjoy (even tho i definitely got a little carried away with it. i was having a moment and let the moment take over)

༺═──────────────═༻

The horn sounds through the TV, signaling the end of the game. The Ducks lost to the Devils at the Prudential Center 4-2, and it was Jamie’s first goal back after missing nearly 30 games. He probably isn’t feeling the best right now.

Yet she knows exactly what would make him feel better. She's sure he will appreciate his Christmas gift a little bit early. She's been excited to give it to him since she got it right after he left for the road trip that has kept him away for a week.

Now might be the perfect time since he might need to relax a little bit. She knows her boyfriend so she knows exactly how to help him relax after a rough roadie. She even tells him that she'll wait up for him to get home so she can surprise him.

ʚ jamie baby ɞ - 10:29 pm flight doesn't leave until midnight so you don't have to stay up for me. i won't home until 4. pls don't be up until 4 in the morning, baby. i'd feel so bad

i love you and i'll see you when you get up in the morning, okay ? i won't be good company when i get home and i don't want to ruin your mood

Her plan doesn't change from Jamie's texts. All it does is tell her that he really isn't in a good mood after the road trip. She can take a four hour nap and be fine by the time he gets home. She needs to be wide awake for when she gives him his gift.

The gift also needs a little prep so she'll sleep until three, drink a cup of coffee to wake her up, then get ready to give Jamie his gift.

She's pretty sure his mood will change real quick, especially since he's been gone for a week. They both are a little desperate at this point.

An alarm is set for three in the morning to give her an hour to do what she needs to do. She only needs an hour to prepare the gift. A cup of coffee, a shower, a shave, hair, makeup, and a small snack isn't going to take more than an hour.

For her nap, she wears one of Jamie's Ducks hoodies because they're insanely comfortable. She sends Jamie a text that says goodnight and for him to have a safe flight.

(Y/N) is shaking with excitement as she lies down in their shared bed for her four hour nap. The look on Jamie's face when he sees what he's getting for Christmas is the only thing that causes her to fall asleep.

The sooner she falls asleep, the sooner the alarm will go off and the sooner Jamie will be home.

She dreams of his reaction.

༺═──────────────═༻

A screaming alarm wakes her from her light sleep. It's still completely dark outside and there's a dim light coming from her phone while the alarm goes off. She turns it off and sits up with a stretch.

(Y/N) feels very refreshed though, and she definitely needed the little nap if she is to make it through the night. She allows herself a few more minutes before she goes and makes a cup of coffee.

While the coffee brews, she tracks Jamie's flight. They haven't landed early so she can still definitely pull off the surprise. The team plane is scheduled to land in a half hour. Then it's baggage claim and a fifteen to twenty minute drive to their apartment in Anaheim.

After coffee and a few pieces of toast with strawberries and Nutella, (Y/N) takes a shower. It's a full shower. She shampoos, conditions, shaves all necessary areas, washes her body, and exfoliates her face.

All while Taylor Swift is playing from the Bluetooth speaker on the sink counter.

(Y/N) loves listening to Miss Swift while she showers. Sometimes she listens to it while showering with Jamie, and he gets very into it. That's Trevor's doing though. Trevor is a bigger Swiftie than she is. Sometimes.

It's quarter to four when (Y/N) gets out of the shower. She checks to see where Jamie is and finds he's still at the airport. His location says he's outside though so he's probably headed to his car. She needs to hurry up if she's going to pull this surprise off.

She wraps herself in a towel and secures it under her arms so she can do her hair and light makeup. She blow dries it until it's pretty much straight then runs the straightener through it a couple of times to make sure there is no wave or curl to her hair.

She puts foundation under her eyes to hide the circles that have formed and all over her face to hide any blemishes. She puts on red lipstick and does a natural smokey eye look.

When she looks at Jamie's location, he's on his way home. There are about ten minutes until he's going to be walking through the door and she still has to go get the actual gift out of the closet. She curses to herself and makes her way back into their bedroom after disconnecting her phone from the speaker and turning off the light.

Inside a box in a closet is the gift. It's a red lingerie set that she tried on once when she was with Jamie. He said he really liked it so when he left for the trip, she went back to the store and bought it.

The sleepwear lingerie is made of lace and mesh. The cups of the nightgown part of the set is made of lace and is practically see through. Below the cups is completely see through. A matching mesh G-string will be worn underneath the sleepwear.

(Y/N) looks in the full length mirror against the wall and finds a hot, confident version of herself. Usually she doesn't dress like this, but it's Christmas so she figured it could be Jamie's gift since he liked seeing this set on her.

Somewhere in the apartment, a door softly opens and shuts with a nearly silent click. She makes a beeline for the bed and turns on the lamp beside the bed so Jamie gets a very good look at her when he opens the bedroom door.

There is a sigh and footsteps that are getting closer and louder. She tries to lay on the bed in a way that Jamie will get a good view of her as soon as the door opens. She has just decided on a position when the door slowly begins to open.

Jamie sticks his head into the room and looks right at the bed. His eyes immediately widen and the door swings completely open. His jaw has dropped to the floor and he nearly drops his bags on the ground.

"I- what-," he stammers. She smiles as he tries to find the words. "I don't understand what's going on here. (Y/N), I thought I said not to-"

"Wait up for you?" she finishes. "I didn't. I woke up at three so I could get ready to surprise my boyfriend since he hasn't been home in a week." She allows her eyes to travel up and down Jamie's body. He's tense but it's hard to miss how tight his pants have gotten at his crotch area. "Maybe put him in a better mood because he seemed very cranky after the game."

He shifts his weight between his legs before he drops his luggage by the door. "I am," he tells her. "I mean, I was. I don't think I am now." His eyes travel over her body. "Holy shit, baby."

She slowly gets up off the bed, making sure to show off every part of the set. Jamie's cheeks get red as he watches her walk up to him. She smiles when she is standing in front of him. "Merry Christmas," she says to him. "Decided to give you your present a little early. You said you liked this on me so I went and got it to wear for you on Christmas but then you had a rough road trip. Surprise."

Jamie's quiet, but she can see that he's trying to hold back. His hands are shaking, itching to touch her. "I don't know what to say," he tells her. "Fuck, (Y/N)."

"How about you don't say anything?" she suggests. Her fingers grasp at the collar of Jamie's game day suit jacket. Slowly, she pushes it off of him and he shivers despite wearing long sleeves under the jacket. "How about I help you relax? Let you enjoy seeing me in this while I suck you off. Promise you won't rip it?" He immediately begins to nod.

His eyes are on her fingers as she works on unbuttoning his shirt. She untucks it from his pants to finish unbuttoning it and her eyes meet his. "I wish I could come home to this after every roadie," Jamie softly admits. "I think I'd score a hat trick if I knew this was waiting for me at home."

(Y/N) undoes his belt without looking at what she's doing. It hits the ground with a soft thud. "I'll see what I can do," she replies. "Maybe if you get a hat trick then I'll be waiting for you like this when you get back." Slowly, she sinks to her knees. She is so thankful that the room has carpet. Her knees are definitely grateful. "I'll be waiting on my knees like this for you."

A soft whine passes Jamie's lips when she pulls his cock out of the confines of his suit pants. "Fuck," he groans as she takes him in one of her hands. She presses soft kisses to his hipbone, trailing closer to his dick.

She licks the bright red tip and swirls her tongue around it, collecting the drop of precome that has already formed. She looks up at him as she takes him in her mouth. Jamie sighs and puts his fingers in her hair to probably keep himself upright. She takes as much of him in her mouth as she can then begins to move her head.

Giving blowjobs has never been something she's been particularly good at, but Jamie has helped her improve her skills since they've gotten together. His reactions and the sounds that come from his mouth let her know if she's doing a good or bad job.

Even if she were to give the worst blowjob in the world right now, she is pretty sure that Jamie wouldn't care.

He's already barely here.

One thing she knows drives Jamie crazy is when she hollows out her cheeks and lightly sucks. She tries it once and Jamie's hips buck forward. (Y/N) knew that was going to happen so she relaxed her throat so he wouldn't choke her with his dick. Jamie lets out a soft groan that's mixed with a whine. Her hands fly to his thighs to let him know to relax.

"Keep doing that and I will come a lot sooner than we would both like, (Y/N)," he warns her. She looks up at him through her eyelashes and sees how flustered he is. His cheeks are bright red and his bottom lip looks like it's been gnawed on. "Fucking eyelashes. Fuck."

She smiles as best as she can around him.

Despite the carpet, her knees do begin to hurt. She glances up at him before pulling off his dick. There is a little bit of lipstick on his hipbone where she kissed him. She smiles and looks up at him.

Jamie slides one of his hands around to the back of her neck and puts his fingers in her hair. She stands up and Jamie drags her in for a filthy kiss. She hums against his lips and pushes the unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders. He lets the fabric fall to the floor around his feet.

"Love being on my knees for you," she mumbles between kisses. "I wanna ride you though."

A whine comes from Jamie's throat after her comment. She smiles and turns them so she can push Jamie onto the mattress.

The kiss breaks and he falls onto his back with a grunt when she pushes him in the direction of the mattress. She pulls off his shoes and socks before pulling his dress pants off. Jamie scoots backward further onto the bed as she pulls off his pants and boxers together.

Jamie's eyes are wide when she crawls on top of him. She straddles his waist and cock. Jamie's hands run up and down her thighs for a second as she leans down and kisses him. This kiss is hungry since she has gone a week without kissing him. She's missed the feeling of his lips against her. It drives her nuts every time he goes away for more than a few days.

There's a light pressure over the G-string that she's wearing under the sleepwear. A soft moan comes from her throat as Jamie's thumb circles her clit over the mesh.

He breaks the hot kiss and she rests her forehead against his. "As hot as this is," Jamie begins to say. "I need to be inside you so either take these off or move them to the side because I'm minutes away from coming and I don't want to make a mess of your new outfit."

(Y/N) quickly sheds the lingerie set until she's completely naked. A smile forms on Jamie's lips before he sits up and attaches his lips to her jaw. Her fingers are in his hair. When he hits the sensitive spot right under her ear, she lightly pulls. His thumb is back on her clit and she whines.

Needing relief, she grabs his dick and lines herself up with him. He looks up at her and she kisses him. It's a softer kiss than the kisses they've already shared tonight, but he licks into her mouth and it intensifies.

Slowly, she sinks down onto him. There's a familiar pressure as he fills her up. "Fuck, Jamie," she mumbles against his lips.

"Feels so good around me, baby," Jamie tells her. "Fuck."

It's only seconds later when he's completely inside of her. Jamie's hands find her waist and she bites at his bottom lip before pulling away.

Their eyes meet and Jamie begins to roll her hips against his. Her lips part and soft pants pass them. Her hands fly to his jaw and she holds on like it's life or death.

It feels so good to be like this. It's rare that Jamie lets her take control in bed but she loves it. Even now, he still has some control while she's riding him. His hands are on her waist and helping her move.

She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him back onto the bed. His head hits the pillows and she speeds up her movements. Rolling turns into bouncing on Jamie's dick.

The room is filled with the sounds of the bed squeaking beneath them and skin on skin. She's letting out quiet moans as she throws her head back and enjoys the feeling of Jamie moving in and out of her at her own pace. Jamie even lets out a soft noise or two.

"Riding me so good," Jamie tells her. "Riding me like the good girl you are. Fuck, baby."

His words alone are enough to make her come, but she holds back until he comes first. He's the one that needs to relax so she's focused on his pleasure first. She'll come when he comes.

Then his thumb is back on her clit and she isn't sure how much longer she can go.

"Want you to come first," she pants. "Jamie."

Jamie pulls her down into a kiss full of tongue and teeth.

She's so close. Her legs are shaking and sore from doing all the work. Her clit is so sensitive and she's worried she'll come.

"Fill me up," (Y/N) says against Jamie's lips. Even her voice is shaky. "Wanna feel you come inside me. Please."

A groan and a whine pass Jamie's lips as he finally lets go. He comes inside of her as soon as she comes back down on his cock. He uses his thumb and pointer finger to play with her clit and it's not long after that when she comes.

White paints her vision and she comes with Jamie's name on her lips. She throws her head back for a second before she collapses onto his chest.

She isn't sure that she's ever came that hard in her life. Her body is spent and her breathing is labored.

When she comes to, she's laying on the bed and the bathroom light is on. Jamie appears from the bathroom with a cloth and he begins to clean her up. She can feel his come running down her legs and it's a little uncomfortable until he wipes it away.

"That was the hottest thing I think I have ever experienced," Jamie admits to her. "I'm so fucking lucky."

"Now I have to get you a new Christmas present," she mumbles. Her voice is already slurred with sleep.

Jamie throws the cloth towards the laundry basket and climbs back into bed. He covers them both with the blanket that will need to be changed in the morning.

"I think that was the best Christmas present ever," he softly tells her. "You can worry your pretty little head about it in the morning. Right now, we're going to go to sleep and sleep in then I'm going to return what you did tonight by fucking you when you wake up."

Oh, she should be wrapped in red more often if this is how Jamie is going to react. Maybe next she can wear one of his Canada jerseys with nothing on underneath and see how he reacts to that.

༺═──────────────═༻

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[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 16

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: suggestive content, little bit of angst, and fluff wc: 2.5k

A/N: sorry for the unprecidented delay in updates! Life got in the way and then I got sick and lost a whole day of writing. 😥

Chapter Selection

🦇BatFam Group Chat🦇

Dick: So Jaybird, how'd she take it?

11:02am

Jason: … I didn't tell her yet.

11:08am

Steph: WHAT??? 😰

11:09am

Tim: 😐 … Do you think a better moment is forthcoming?

11:11am

Jason: You really want to talk to me right now, replacement? After the shit you pulled?

11:12am

Steph: ???

11:13am

Jason: HE KNOWS WHAT HE DID!

11:14am

Dick: Ok, ok! Look, this doesn't have to be a big thing. Just tell her, it'll be fine!

11:15am

Damian: Do not lie, Grayson. It is a big thing, and Todd is not so stupid that he will think otherwise.

11:17am

Babs: You really should tell her soon, Jay.

11:20am

Jason: … Well when is Tim telling Bernard, huh?? They've been dating longer than we have, how is it not Gang Up On Tim Day??

11:22am

Tim: Yeah, I told Bernard. … And he already knew. 😬

11:23am

Dick: … We're gonna discuss that later. Right?

11:26am

Tim: Report's already in the Batcomputer.

11:27am

Babs: … Seriously, Tim??? O.O ????

11:32am

Tim: Hey, hey! Can we get back to Gang Up On Jason Day?

11:33am

Jason: No! I'm working on it, leave me be!

11:36am

Steph: … Given how she handled everything yesterday, what's the issue? Do you think she won't be able to take it?

11:40am

Jason: That's not it at all! … With her I get to be a normal guy. And the second I tell her, that goes away, for both of us

11:41am

Damian: … Granted, I have very little experience with women, but I do think that if she wanted normal, she would have bowed out the second she realized she was talking to a Wayne.

11:43am

Dick: Or when B showed up at the diner

11:45am

Babs: Or when Damian showed up at her apartment

11:46am

Cass: Or after sitting through a dinner with all of us.

11:47am

Jason: 😒 None of you are any help at all

11:50am

After the gala, Jason became determined that I should know how to defend myself. I was incredibly uncomfortable with going to the gym with him, but after a week of assurances he had me at least partially convinced me that no one would bat an eye at me there.

Once he had the green light, he jumped into action. He took me out to get some workout clothes, and we started going to the gym together once a week. I, like most every Gothamite, had taken self defense classes as a kid, so we started with some flexibility improving stretches, strength building, and making sure I still had a grasp on the basics. Every week we trained for a few hours, and Jason would take me out for dinner after.

I would never have expected it, but I actually started to look forward to our gym days. Jason was his most cuddly after training, especially when he was particularly excited about some progress I made. Every time I got a hit in, or blocked one of his, he would beam like the sun itself. The first time I caught him by surprise and kicked him to the ground he actually scooped me up in a bear hug, cheering for the whole gym to hear.

And what's more; his work was so sporadic that it was hard to predict if and when he'd be called away on the average day. He did his best to avoid it when we had plans, but sometimes he just had to go in. But he made arrangements with someone who worked for him so that our gym days were our days, so they very quickly became the day every week where I was guaranteed his undivided attention.

It was all so delightfully domestic. We would spend the night before together, just cuddling though he was slowly getting used to me touching him more. In the morning we made breakfast and ate together in bed. We'd go for a ride on his bike, see what was new at our favorite used book store, have lunch and a walk around the park, and head to the gym. After training we would take quick showers in the locker rooms and bring some take-out home. Sometimes we'd fall asleep in each other's arms, but if he had an early morning at work he would tuck me in with a kiss and head home to get some sleep.

Damian started coming over once in a while as well; as we had discussed, he would text me that he was on his way first. Somehow he never tried to come over when I was at work, and he avoided gym day too. But his visits didn't always correlate with Jason's. Sometimes it was just the two of us, and on those days he slowly started to open up. He would do homework at my kitchen table while I made dinner, we'd play video games or watch movies, and eventually the manor would send a car to take him home. He always grumbled that I didn't need to walk him out, but I wasn't about to let him out of my sight in my neighborhood, and he didn't protest past that.

Eventually he started leaving a set of casual clothes at my apartment. I took him to the cafe down the block, let him pick out snacks at the corner store, and one day we took the bus to the local craft store. He bought a dozen craft kits; crystal growing, shrinky dinks, window decals, little figurines to paint, even a candy making kit. They only made an appearance on days when Jason had to work, and Damian always looked so sweet and relaxed while we played with them, and every time he made me promise not to tell anyone. I wasn't sure what was so bad about his family knowing he played with age appropriate toys, but I always assured him that no one had to know if he didn't want them to. The crafts were always carefully packed away when we were done and tucked into a nondescript box in my hall closet.

Steph, Tim, and Dick all found me on Waynebook, and eventually Steph invited me to join girl's night. That Tuesday I found myself at Babs' apartment with her, Cass, and Steph, watching a movie, eating pizza and popcorn, and painting Steph's nails for her. Dick started sending me memes and safety reports from my neighborhood. I wouldn't even hazard a guess why he was so up to date on my area's crime reports, but I did appreciate the heads up. Tim didn't send me many messages, usually just letting me know when Bruce had been trying to get Jason to bring me by again, but he definitely stalked my profile since he liked a picture from my high school graduation. His stalking tendencies were starting to amuse me more than anything else, so I didn't mention it to Jay. Anything that strained their already turbulent relationship felt like unnecessary information.

Jason took me to see an outdoor showing of the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. He packed a picnic dinner for us, making sure all my favorite foods were available, and brought several blankets and pillows. He held me close and whispered in my ear, quoting along with Mr. Darcy when he confessed his love to Elizabeth; “you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on...”

It was an unusually peaceful day in Gotham; the kind of day that makes the hard ones worth powering through. We drove back to my place with the windows down. I didn't notice when Jason's mood shifted, but I did notice his hands trembling as he unpacked the picnic basket, and him glancing at me next to him. I set a hand over his, frowning slightly; “... Honey?”

“Hm?” He swallowed hard. “Y- yeah?”

“Are you ok?”

“Course. … Course I’m ok, doll.” He smiled softly, kissing my forehead.

“Cause you’re squirming like something’s wrong…”

“No, no! Nothing’s wrong, baby, honest. … Sorry, I just … I wanted to …” He frowned, taking a deep breath. “... We’ve been together for a while, and I … was thinking we could try something tonight?”

I blinked a bit, nodding slowly; “Oh? What did you want to try?”

“...Um … can we … push the comfort zone a bit?” He refused to look me in the eye, blushing bright red. I bit back the urge to giggle at how cute he was being, squeezing his hand instead.

“That could be fun~ … but if anything pushes back-”

He nodded quickly. “We’ll take it slow. And I’ll tell you if I need to stop, promise.”

I nodded, cupping his cheek; “very good. Then, how would you like to proceed?”

“Um … well, … I really like kissing you … I was thinking … maybe we could kiss some more places?”

I nodded, crossing my wrists behind his neck. His hands rested on my hips, stroking in small circles. “That sounds nice. You want lights on or off?”

“... Off will help.” He nodded slowly. “Is that ok?”

I nodded; “of course. Changing one variable at a time is always best practice, right?”

“Oh god…” He chuckled, holding me close. “What is this, some kind of science experiment?”

“I mean, we are experimenting, and it’s not not science - it’s biology and chemistry and psychology, and probably a bit of neurology.” I giggled, leaning in more. “I think the only thing we’re missing is the part where you have to write stuff down for it to be science. … So unless there’s something you’d rather be doing, I guess we could start writing out some lab reports …”

“... You know what, you little dork?” He scooped me up, tossing me casually over his shoulder, and began walking toward the bedroom.

“Woah!” I gasped sharply, giggling; “what?! What’s going on?”

He kicked the door closed behind him and laid me on the bed, leaning over me a bit, his hands trapping me between them on the bed. “I’m going to show you what I’d rather be doing … i- if that’s ok?”

The demanding tone he'd used was making me tingle all over. I bit back a giggle at the cautious way he ended the sentence, nodding quickly. “Sounds good to me~”

I could see a bit of his face in the light from the window, enough to see his eager grin as he dipped down, capturing my lips with his. I cupped his cheek, kissing back hungrily. He moaned softly, pressing his knees to the mattress on either side of my hips. I ran my hands through his hair as he slowly pulled away from my lips, kissing along my jaw to nibble gently on my earlobe. I gasped sharply, shivering at the contact, and he moved on to kiss down the side of my neck.

His lips slowly trailed from my throat down to my collarbone, placing gentle kisses there. “Is this … still ok?”

I panted softly, whimpering, and nodded. “Yeah~ yeah, this is … ooooh Jay~ this is amazing~”

He grinned against my chest, kissing more. His hand slowly made its way to my side, and his fingertips slid under my shirt a bit. “And … this?” He slid his hand a little further.

I shivered hard and nodded. “ohh god, yes~”

His hand caressed my curves as he kissed and gently nipped at my collar. I quickly found myself squirming under him, whining a bit; “yes~ … j- just like that, Jay~”

I squirmed a bit as he explored my soft tummy, pressing his hands into my sides to hold me close. His lips slowly made their way a bit lower, and a bit lower, until they were at the neckline of my shirt. Jason looked up at me, stroking my sides gently.

“Can … um … can I …?” He slid my shirt up ever so slightly.

I nodded quickly, shifting to help him remove it. He tossed it aside and began kissing my cleavage again. His hands fondled and caressed more, making their way up to my breasts. He licked and nibbled there, squeezing gently.

“Ohh fuck~ Jay~”

He groaned softly, nuzzling against me. He nibbled more, holding me close. “Fuck, you're incredible, doll~”

He fondled me more, kissing all over. I panted softly, gently tugging his hair. He purred at that, nipping more. I gasped softly, tugging his hair a bit. “Ow... G- gently, Jay…”

He froze, slowly pulling back. “I … I'm sorry, … I … fuck!” He pushed off the bed, backing up until he was against the wall. He stared at me, wide eyed, as I sat up.

“Take a breath, Jay. It's ok, I'm not hurt. Your teeth are just sharp.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and slowly nodded. “... I … I'm sorry …”

“It's ok, baby.” I held a hand out to him. He slowly walked over to me, letting me pull him down to sit next to me. I stroked his back, kissing his shoulder. “Relax, it's ok~”

“It's not. … I hurt you…”

“Well, mostly you startled me. And when I said ‘ow’ you stopped.”

He sighed softly, burying his face in his hands. “... I … I hate this … I … I don't know how to do this…”

“What do you mean?”

“... I think ... After everything I’ve been through … everything I’ve done … this isn’t what my body is built for … I can cause pain, I can take pain … I don’t know what to do with … pleasure. I don’t know how to give you pleasure. And I don’t deserve to receive it…”

I frowned deeply; “... My love, … you are so incredibly strong, and it’s true that you can take an inordinate amount of pain. But you are not meant for pain. Someone as kind and gentle and caring as you deserves to experience joy, and love, and pleasure.”

“... I don’t know how.” he shuddered, staring into his lap. “... But I want to … I want us to get to be happy together … I want to be able to pleasure you …”

I nodded slowly, chewing on my lower lip a bit. “... Jay, … how did you get so good at fighting?”

“… Years of training?” 

A grin slowly spread across my face as I reached out for his hand. He let me take it, squeezing once. “Exactly. Someone who knew how to fight showed you how it was done. They had you practice punches and kicks, taught you how to shoot, right?” He nodded, slowly looking toward me. “... So why don’t we do this the same way?”

“... What do you mean?”

I cupped his cheek, purring; “you’re teaching me to defend myself. If you’ll let me, I will teach you about pleasure.”

A shuddering gasp ripped through him, and his lower lip trembled a bit as he slowly nodded, leaning into my hand more; “... Y- yes. … Yes, I want that. I … I want to learn. … Please, teach me.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men

[harleehazbinfics]

Valentine's Special devout series

Word Count: 570 A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY FROM TAINTED DOVE!!

It was valentine's day! And Lucifer had the whole day planned ahead. He excitedly walked to your room looking at the list of activities he had for the both of you.

‌ He knocked on the door and opened it when he heard your voice say to come in from the inside. He sees you folding your mat onto the cushion, probably just finished praying.

"Luci! Hi! I just finished praying, should we go now?" your figure bobs towards him happily.

He smiles and offers his arm for you to hold on to and replies, "Yeah, if you're ready. Do you still have things to do today?"

"I think I'm good. We can go now," you answered with a bright smile making him clutch his heart and sob at how blinding you were inside his head.

‌ He opens a portal and takes you to a wide open space with fields of grass adorned with flowers. The breathless blue sky makes your eyes filled with tears.

"D-do you like it?" Lucifer asks anxiously scratching nape.

You couldn't help but launch yourself into his arms from excitement of seeing such a thing. You've longed to see the blue sky and the beautiful flowers that gave Earth it's beauty.

He stood there in shock trying to understand what just happened while you gave him a quick squeeze before parting from him and replying.

"This is amazing! How did you do this!" You asked bewildered.

‌ He briefly explains that he manifested his powers and had the help of a friend to create a space that looked very much like the Earth he witnessed before he banished.

‌Clearly, you were elated when you heard that this was a visual representation of the Garden of Eden. It seemed so beautiful and vibrant despite not being real.

‌The both of you walked towards the tree that had a picnic ready for the both of you. You enjoyed your meal for a while and gazed the clouds as you rested.

"That one looks like a duck!"

"Look it's a pony!"

"That one... looks like a baby.."

‌The both of you nervously chuckled at the thought and quickly changed the subject as Lucifer invited you to take to the skies.

‌Opening your wings you soared among the clouds, feeling the cool breeze of the sunset on your finger tips as you played catch with one another.

‌He startles you when he stops running away and catches you in his arms, making you look at the soft expression on his face while the both of you stayed afloat.

‌You close your eyes nervously, somewhat shaking at what you expected him to do. However, he chuckles at your cuteness making you open you eyes in confusion, on to see him dip his lips and kiss your forehead instead.

"I know how this is important to you, so I won't force you unless you're ready," he tells you carressing your cheek.

‌You blush and smile at his words nodding as you agreed. Your arms circled around neck while he pulled you closer, ever so gently and swayed you side-to-side while you watched the sun fall and the moon rise. The sky filled with brilliant lights and stars, a few of them rushing past another making it more magical.

"This was wonderful, Luci," you mutter resting your head on his chest.

He smiles and responds, "You're welcome. Happy Valentines Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day!"

[casual-tarot]

Pick a pile: details about the day you'll meet your soulmate

Note: This is all just for fun! Take everything said here with a grain of salt! And excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes, I haven't proofread this lol.

Pile 1:

Birds keep popping up, I think you'll hear or see a LOT of birds that day, you might even see a nest of baby birds too.

Rainbows for some of you. It might be a day something good is happening at work, maybe a promotion or something?

I think it might be the opposite, getting written up or fired. Take what resonates, that's not a message for everyone.

I'm seeing a city? Maybe a walk in the city or going shopping.

For some I'm seeing a "bad" neighborhood lol.

I think it's likely going to be a sunny day.

I don't think you're going to realize it's a special day, you'll be too preoccupied with whatever else is going on that day that you won't be thinking about the potential for something like this to happen. It'll come as a surprise and you won't even realize the person you met is going to be special to you in any way.

I think this will be a day of growth for you, gaining experience and/or getting wiser.

I think on this day, you will either be very optimistic or need a lot of optimism, and I think this will effect how you will each meet your person. They might be drawn to your cheer or might give you a little pick me up.

Whatever is happening to you That day, good or bad, I think you're going to want to slow down and take a breath. Maybe to calm down or ease your excitement/anxiety.

Additional signs and details: The color dark blue. The night sky, Stars, North, Crystal's, Amethyst, Webs, Spiders, waning gibbous moon, full moon, 12, 10, 9, 99, 999

Pile 2:

I'm getting the vibe that you might be very busy?

For some of you I think it's going to be a sunny day, maybe in summer or spring?

But for some reason I think a majority of you are going to meet them on a snowy day. If it doesn't snow wherever you are when you meet them, then probably just a really really cold day.

I think you will be kind of stressed?

Even despite all these factors, I think that some of you will come across someone that could use some help(maybe someone homeless?) and you or your person will likely stop to help them in some way?

Maybe you meet because of this? Or at least one of you sees the other person doing this and it catches your/their attention.

You might meet them in the morning, maybe on your way to work.

I think some of you will be coming out of hermit mode, as in you'll get out of the house for the first time in a little while.

I think part of the reason you will be stressed is because you will be working really hard at your job, maybe aiming for a promotion or raise. This doesn't feel negative though, it feels determined. I think you will have that mindset the day you meet them.

For a small amount of you, I think you may meet this person on Christmas, or maybe even new years.

I'm seeing snowy night. Especially for those of you that work at night.

I think you might be called to get out of your comfort zone somehow. Whether that be talking to a stranger or taking the long way around to work, I think you'll have an inexplicable urge to do something different.

I think for a lot of you, your soulmate will be the one to help someone, and it will really make you stop and think, maybe even admire them. You might consider helping your community more.

I have a feeling that you'll just know that that day will be different. That urge pulling you out of your comfort zone, or that first conversation you have with them, I think something will tell you, "this is important. This is different. Something about this is different. "

Adittional Signs and Details: Coffee, Morning Coffee, Snow, Charity, Big Cities, New York, Night Shift, Christmas, Winter Holidays, New Year's, Snowy Night's, Under a Streetlamp, Light in the Darkness, New Moon, Starry Night, North, East, 3rd Eye, Ambitious/Ambition, Ambivert, "You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun." 3, 4, 2, 12, 44, 444, The book "Strange Grace" by Tessa Gratton, Voice in teh back of your head telling you "this is right," the middle path, The Sun, A sunny day, The Sun between branches, creative block or work slump

Pile 3:

I'm called to use an extra oracle deck for this group specifically, so these are four messages I've pulled out for you:

Treat your body like the palace it is(Mirror, 4)

It's time for healing, not war(Castle, 30)

We're all just stardust(Universe, 31)

Every hurricane comes to an end(Storm, 44)

On to the rest of the reading!

You may have been drawn to one or both of the other piles, this reading shares similar messages to pile 1 and similar signs to pile 2.

I think it's going to be a very good day for you, even before meeting them

I think that you will have had a tower moment, something that had really rattled you in some way and forced you to deal with certain problems, and I think on this day you finally are moving past it. This is the first day you've happily come to terms with what has happened and can smile again.

For some of you, this may be cutting someone out. You will realize that someone in your life that has been bothering you in some way, really isn’t worth all the time you put into dealing with them. This doesn't have to be aggressive, it could just be a silent ghosting. On this day you will feel free from the shackles they've kept you in.

I think your hard work(emotionally/mentally)will be rewarded, likely the reward will be your soulmate. And you'll realize that there is still work to be done, but you are happy to do it and get past it.

I'm getting the vibe that some of you are going through a hard time right now and I want you to know it will pass. This is your future, whether that be today, or in a decade, and all the work getting there will be so worth it. I also think you need to know that this slump will pass soon.

I think you will finally be putting yourself first.

You will be full of positive energy on this day.

Your creative energy and/or ambitious will be at an all time high, you will be very passionate about what you're creating/your work.

You will be looking inside yourself and see the growth you've done, and you will be proud. You will pat yourself on the back for it.

You will be very present in the moment, and may have to remind yourself not to get lost in thought, knowing you may spiral. I feel like you'll be successful in that.

It will be a new beginning, and you will know it.

You are the main character of this story.

Adittional Signs and Details: Waxing moon, Castle, birds, rainbows(for some), nests, ocean, night sky, Knives and swords, the sunset, hard work, dirt, earth, fire, lava, volcano, tower, lighting, mirror, hands, black nail polish, stars, the universe, storms, 4, 44, 444, 4444, 31, 30, water Droplets, 8, 88, 888, 5 stars, first quarter moon, Libra, Pisces, Scorpio, Aquarius, Aries, Leo, April, Fire signs and fire sign energy, Mars, Saturn, The Sun, 1, 11, 111, 6, 7

[chrispotatos]

forever - matt sturniolo

vampire!matt × human!reader

summary: your dad wants to meet your bf that you love so dearly thats also a vampire, the only problem is your dads a hunter.

a/n: the vampire traits i wrote for this is the same ones from vampire diaries.

warning: fluff, smut, p in v (unprotected), fingering, slight angst, reader gets turned into vampire

a/n: probably the longest thing i ever wrote (it's prob not that long and im just being extra)

my father wanted to meet the boy i stay out with so late, the one that never feels the need to come over and always invite me over to his house instead, the one i never shut up about. my boyfriend matt.

me and matt were on his bed laying in the dark room the only thing that kept it lit was the sun, that was now setting while it rained.

"my dad wants to meet you, you know?" i tell him picking my head up a little to see his reaction. "you mean kill me" he joked raising his brows at me

i scoff at his response and lay my head back down on his chest. "he won't kill you"

i didn't really believe myself, i mean my dad was a hunter and he hated vampires with a burning passion so i wouldn't really know.

"when does he wanna meet me?" a smile comes across my face as excitement coarsed through my body from his words. he was gonna actually be meeting my father

"any day will do but lets try friday" i squeal and move up to hug him and pepper kisses all over his face. "okay no" instead of laying on him like before i sit next to his laying figure (lowkey what it's serving but less dramatic)

i giggle tucking some hair that slipped into my face behind my ear to admire matts very much changed but perfect features. he definitely wasn't the same boy as before but who would really be the same after dying then coming back and having to deal with everything not only that but live for enternity.

"what's on your mind?" he asked placing a hand on my thigh, his thumb caressing it lightly "you actually" a smile coated my face at the truth "yeah?" his words came out as a low grumble.

he pulled my face in for a kiss with both his hands, he start placing kisses to my jaw leading down to my neck directly next to my pulse sucking on my skin. that was until i felt his fangs graze my flesh "matt" i said in a warning tone.

"m' sorry" he kissed my lips again the contact of his soft lips on mine, while making out matt helps my body straddle his laying one.

he waisyed no time to grab my hips and making me grind against his clothed dick, i could feel him getting harder underneath me making me smile against his lips.

"i need to feel you so bad" matt whined, breaking away from the kiss.

he pulls my shorts and panties down half way, just to have enough access to slip two of his fingers down to my pussy and slowly pushing his cold, slender fingers into me. the coldness of his fingers against my warm walls make me jolt my hips upward a bit; away from his fingers for a bit then letting him finish working his finger inside me.

he curled his fingers inside of me hitting a spot that made the knot in my stomach clench "holy fuck" i whimper out as he moves his fingers.

my eyes squeeze feeling his thumb adding pressure against my clit rubbing it in circular motion. "close- im close" i babble out.

i felt him remove his finger and i shoot my eyes open "i want you to ride me sweetheart" he sits up against the headboard pulling his pants and underwear down past his thighs.

i run my finger over his tip, a light gasp elicits from matts lips. he tries to move his hips up into my hand but my body straddling his restraints the actions "i don't wanna wait anymore" he complained

"ok, ok" i hover myself over the tip of his dick then sink down on it. i rock my hips back and forth a bit, my head rest on his shoulder; clenching a few times trying to adjust.

"there ya go" he praises bringing his hands to my hips encouraging movement. i rut my hips forward, now starting to bounce on his dick another groan coming from matt.

i bite my lips trying to contain the orgasm about to wash over me so suddenly. it doesn't take a while before his tip hits my g-spot making me move at a more rapid pace. "im gonna cum" i breath out going down one more time and realese all over him some of the warm liquid slipping out of me. i collapse leaning against him "fuck" i muttered.

i pull off of him and stroke his cock listening to his whimpers until he releases all over my hand, a smirk creeps on my lips when i see his jaw slacked and eyes screwed shut from the immense pleasure. his heaving breaths falling into low pants.

i grab his shirt that he took off, from the floor and clean him up "really my shirt?" i give him a glare and he shoots me one back.

i throw the shirt back to the floor done already. i put my clothes back on and so does matt, he changes the sheets and blankets to a different black set and we settle back into bed cuddling back into eachothers arms again.

"i love you" he spoke breaking the comfortable silence between us "love you more"

"really?"

"of course i do, i love you more than my whole being" i reassure him.

"would you mind loving me forever.." his words came out as a slight whisper when reaching the end of his sentence.

i sit up from my laying postion "what are trying to say?" my eyebrows knit in faux confusion trying not to crack a smile. i knew he probably wanted to turn me but i wanted to hear him say it.

"i want you to be a vampire with me but only if you want to" he said making immense eye contact with me "I'll think about it" i nod assuring myself and whatever of him that actually believed this was something hard to think on.

---

next day

it's a quiet afternoon, it was chilly so i made sure to wear a coat on the way to the sturniolos household.

i ran the rest of the way there when the sun started setting because it gets pretty eerie at night more than usual now that i know vampires are around here.

i knock on the front door and am met with nick, matts brother. "is matt home?" i question trying to catch my breath "yeah he's in his room" he stepped to the side letting me by.

there house was very nice, and it was larger than most of the ones in our neighborhood but also not that well lit i notice it's only candles lighting everything. i walk into matts room to see him sitting by his window, turning his head as i make my entrance.

"im ready." i admit fiddling with my fingers and avoidinghis gaze. he got up from his window sill with a small smile but it slowly faded "you sure?"

"yes" i nod along with my words "no y/n i mean are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into. are you sure you want this. are you sure you'll be able to love me for the rest of your life. are you sure?"

i take his words into consideration and im sure about all of it. he's my person i considered him my other half, when i found out he was a vampire it scared me but not for the right reasons i thought he wouldn't like me anymore. i thought i wouldn't be good enough for him anymore so it drew a line between us but with a few talks our bond was better and I'd quite literally do anything for him

he took a few breathers before i saw red veins under his eyes and his fangs come out. he pulled me closer to him by my arm and sunk his teeth into my flesh a small 'ow' followed up by some cries left my mouth.

matt punctured his wrist to draw blood and turned it towards me to drink "matt that disgusting" my face grimaced into a disguted expression. "you'll die if you don't"

i let out a complaing groan and drunk some of the blood that was coming from him, the metallic taste feeling my mouth. witha quick movement i was out.

i woke up, my neck aching in pain. i put my hand on the back of my neck rolling it a bit.

i look around and im still in matts room just no matt. speak of the devil. he walked right through his door with a glass of water.

not only my neck was in pain: but now my head, teeth/jaw, my eyes, and suddenly a growing appetite to eat.

"why do i feel like this" i pull my legs up to my chest, rubbing my temples. "you're gonna be okay" he reassures sitting on the bed and cradling me in his arms.

"nooo my teeth hurt- and my head" i whine letting a few tears slip the pain was excruciating. it felt like i was a newborn teething all over again, my head feels like someone knocked me with a mallet, and my vision was adjusting to too many things at once and i was hearing a bunch of conversations from miles away. "can you make it stop already" i covered my ears and started sobbing it was all too much for me.

my nose was running and tears were leaking from my eyes i was a complete mess. matt was there for me running his fingers through my hair giving me encouraging words that didn't help but he tried so thats what mattered.

after atleast 30 minutes it subsided and matt gave me the glass of water he had in his hands letting me take a few sip then putting it on the night stand and setting me down to rest.

"did you kill me?" i asked referring to when i was done drinking his blood and everything just went black. "unfortunately yes, i broke your neck"

it brought a smile to my lips, i would have laughed but didn't have enough energy for it. I rested my eyes to try and sleep while matt lightly scratched my back, lulling me to sleep.

---

it's been two days and now currently Friday i haven't been at my house for those days and im sure my dads worried sick he has called a few times but i ignored them all out of fear i didn't even wanna come home but i knew i had to at some point.

i was dressed in some jeans and a plain black top it was clothes that i left at Matt's house other times i spent nights over his house.

over the days i thought it would get better but it didn't get any easier. my eyes would flair with veins and get bloodshot at any smell of blood. everything else was pretty easy to control except for my raging hunger for anything but food only grew.

to feel my teeth sink tear into someone flesh breaking through tissue and muscle just to drain them of blood.

to hold it off i ate animals but it didn't make the cravings go away.

"lets go" matt held the door open for me, we both walked out to his car and drove over to my house.

"what if he finds out im a vampire and kill me too" my voice trembles in fear, i was in no position to be scared. he might spare me, i doubt it but i have hope. matt on the other hand will probably not get it easy especially since he was the one who turned me.

"you're still his kid" he reminded placing a comforing hand on my thigh. he had a point but he also didn't understand my dads absolute hate for vampires the reason being is because he thinks one killed his wife my mom.

my stomach turned it felt like it was doing back flips, if i was still human my heart would have been beating out of my chest, unfortunately im not even a living being anymore. all this thinking distracted me from our way to my dad's place, i looked out the window and here we were.

matt came around the car and pulled the car door open for me sticking his hand out to help me, i took his hand helping myself out the car and walked to my front door knocking a few times.

"oh y/n i was so worried" he brought me into a hug, holding me close pressing my head against his chest and giving my back little pats. if only he knew i was the thing he hated most.

"are you just gonna stand there" my dad asked matt, his arms no longer hugging me.

"matt come in quick it's freezing out there" i exclaimed playing it off.

he wasn't able to come in unless he was invited in and my father probably caught on a tad bit or didn't even notice, either way i think it was well played off.

"nice to meet you" matt stook his hand out for a handshake, my dad ignored it and walked to the kitchen. "dad really?"

"help me finish making dinner" bluntly dismissing my words "i will leave if you continue this, it's not fair to him or me and it's actually quite disrespectful" i called out.

"yeah because im gonna praise a boy who doesn't ever talk to me let alone know what i look like. i know he's the on you're always sneaking around with so it's disrespectful to me" he declared raising his voice in the slightest.

i look over to matt who's jaw is clenched, i don't know if he was anxious or mad maybe a bit of both

there was no point in fighting so i just start helping my dad peel the potatoes. "how do you want your steak?" he asked getting seasonings out for what he was cooking

i was pretty hungry for anything but food right now so the closest i could get to blood is a rare steak but for more subtly medium rare is what i choose

"i thought you hated your meat pink?" he asked unsure of my reasonable answer "well you grow and you learn" i shrug

matt was setting the table, in no rush whatsoever making sure everything looked perfect. meanwhile i was struggling to skin the potatoes.

the vegetable slips out of my hand when i tried cutting it. "lemme help" my dad took it from me making the same mistake but cutting his finger and drawing blood.

oh fuck. "are you okay" i didn't look at him i couldn't i saw some of his blood drip onto the cutting board and i hurried out of there to the bathroom, matt chased after me calling out my name.

"whats wrong?" he asked knocking against the door. but i didn't answer, i looked myself in the mirror and i looked like a monster. i was one but why did i have to be one that kills.

i calmed myself a bit taking breathers and splashing cold water on my face. i come out the bathroom being met with a worried matt. he hurridly pulled me in for a hug "you're okay" he strokes my hair and started rocking side to side as the hug was coming to an end. "lets go back"

we walked hand in hand back to the kitchen and my dad was sitting at the table with a wooden stake in his hand. my walking has come to a hault at the sight

"i want the truth. what's really going on" he questioned. there was thick tension in the air, the silence was deafening.

me and matt exchanged knowing looks

"we're- well I'm a vampire" matt spoke up breaking the quiet atmosphere.

my dads grip tightened on the wooden object "im one too" i add

he drops the sharpened wood and looks at me with tears in his eyes "you?" i nod slowly and his breath hitched.

he started to shake his head in denial "it was you huh?" he picked the stake up and pointed it at matt "you turned my daughter into this monster" he stood up getting closer to use both.

i stand infront of matt not that i could really cover him fully because of our height differences but it was enough blockage for his heart not to get stabbed. "dad i asked for it, he didn't necessarily want to but he offered it and i took him up on the offer."

he sighed looking down to his feet then back at me "why? do you hate me or something" for probably the first times in months the tear finally slipped from his eyes. there were many occasions when he was close to tears but never actually shed any

"this isn't about you dad. i want to be with matt forever and this was the only way" i explained, giving him a pleading look for understanding or atleast sympathy.

"do you love him" my dad muttered

"huh?" i couldn't hear him clear but im sure i could have made out what he said "do you love him?" he reiterated louder.

"more than my will to live" he nodded "leave" he walked to his liquor cabinet and got some of his expensive alcohol and poured him a glass "leave the house or I'll kill you both" he threatened.

"bye.." i said so close to a whisper even suprised if he heard me. matt places his hand on my lower back and guided me out the door. "this is my fault" a sob tore through my words and matt ushered me into the car and drove us both back home (his obvi) and took me to his room sitting me on his bed, he sat next to me trying to calm me down.

my cries have subsided but everything still felt like it was some how my fault. i have no more family all i have is matt and his brothers. theres nothing wrong with that, me and his brothers weren't on bad terms but not necessarily friends, we did talk though but i just love my dad

"could i ever be human again?" he gives me a tight lipped smile and shook his head. i couldn't help but cry all over again "you starting to regret it?" he asked pulling my grieving body into his "little bit" i admit

he pressed a kiss on my head "im sorry" he apologized. i consented to this and i don't want him to feel bad for turning me into a vampire because i wanted this just as much as him.

a/n: i feel like the endings rushed but I've been working on this all day :')

[sanemisstalker]

Some Douma nsfw about his boobs- because I dumped my boyfriend and then shaved off my brows and idk how to feel about it yet.

Update: not feeling too hot, but you know who is? Douma.

CW/ fem reader with afab genitalia/ Douma is a gaslighter, and a whiny bitch / dub-con (recieving and commiting) / Sadomasochism / Gore (you get Douma so excited he accidentally breaks his own haw.)

- Douma isn't a very... giving lover. It's always take take take with him, but he always disguises it as giving, so it's very hard to notice-

-the problem only occurred to you when you realized just how unwilling he was to let you touch him. It was the fifth time in a row that you'd reached over just to give him a little shoulder rub, and after multiple careful shrugs and evasion, Douma simply turned and smiled.

-'You're not allowed to do that.' His face was all smiles, per usual, but the words were icy.

-'why not?'

-'I don't want you to.'

-'You do things I don't want all the time.' Douma squinted, smile still intact. 'What's wrong with me wanting to make you feel good?'

-'Am I not good enough at making you feel good? Why are you trying to self satisfy?' He'd taunt.

-'You know that's not what I mean.' You'd snap. 'I want to please you... You're always giving me head and fingering me and- you just won't let me do anything back. I don't feel like I'm giving you enough... sexually.'

-'You give me plenty sexually.' Douma assured. It wasn't a lie, but Douma understood perfectly that you didn't quite grasp just what he was getting out of those situations.

-You were an awfully pretty crier, but Douma wasn't going to let you know that. He didn't need you to know that, because you were very stubborn, and probably wouldn't take that as you should-

-Point being, Douma lived and breathed to humiliate you. Even if you were cumming time and time again, Douma was getting off on the disgusted, envious looks of his subjects as they'd been more or less forced to watch you cream on his fingers.

- He only liked to eat you out when he knew he could bite at your clit, and grip the muscles around your upper thigh so hard that you'd be all but paralyzed for the days to come- letting him have his way with you time and time again-

-blatantly speaking, Douma's an exhibitionist, and a voyeur. After all is said and done, and the night has crawled upon you, he's likely jerking off in bed thinking about the events of the day-

-because Douma's sensitive, but you don't need to know all that. You don't need to see how every orgasm shatters him. Or how he just has to put a couple of fingers in his mouth, tugging down on his jaw so he cam fight back the screams that would out him as a complete masochist-

-'Where's this sudden interest in me coming from, hm?' Douma would pry, trying to lead off the conversation, but his hm began to drag on as your hand latched around the rim of his shirt.

-Douma reached down to grab your wrist, but you lunged, shocking him slightly. You burrowed under his shirt. Douma could only look down at you, perplexed and somewhat annoyed- You were stretching his shirt-

-Douma's eyes snapped open as he felt your thumb land on his left nipple.

-'Y/N?' He'd laugh, but without any of the things that made a laugh warm and... goodwilled. 'You're on very thin ic-'

-His words dropped in his throat as you barely began to graze his nipple with the pad of your thumb- barely. The light stimulation, much to Douma's chagrin, rushed right down to his cock-

-You hummed as you felt it twitch through his pants, and up against your stomach.

-Douma would pull up his collar, peering down at you. You'd look up at him with pleading eyes, and all too gentle thumbs. Douma would drop his collar, and let his head lul back, annoyed at your little scene you seemed so desperate to make.

-Douma's heart dropped as he felt something slightly wet graze his nipple, before latching on and delivering the smallest, most hard-on-inducing lick, and then moving back.

-Douma slid a hand over his mouth as covertly as he could. His claws all but pierced his jaw in an attempt the keep it shut. His lashes fluttered as the cold hit his wet nipple, driving it to a hard bud beneath your leering eyes.

-With his reprimands dying down, and his cock rising up, you toyed with Douma's chest rather cruelly. You'd swirl your fingers in a circle around the areola, and then wait before harshly attacking the nipple. You'd feel Douma's body tense up in anticipation each time, awaiting the assault.

-Douma was going to collapse. You'd drive his nerves insane, and then leave them be- His dick ached beneath you, presumably swelling so bad it'd formed a wet patch in his pants that would be humiliating to have cleaned-

-and then he felt a harsh nip. Pain and then relief shot through his body, and Douma's fingers broke through his jaw. Puncturing through the skin and snapping through the bone and the tooth, Douma choked down a moan. The crack was deafening, and your head shot up, but a moment of weakness forced Douma to open his mouth.

-'Don't- Back. Go back.' He'd slur past his own fingers. His other hand would gracefully find your head, nudging you back down, and you'd oblige with glee, wrapping your lips around the bud and delivering the most mind numbing sensation Douma had ever experienced.

-'You're shaking.' You'd say in between breathes. 'Do you feel good?' Douma wanted to take off your head then and there, what a needlessly humiliating question-

-You pinched his nipple between your two fingers, tugging. Douma flinched. His body begged him to play along- to your whims. Anything for more of your abuse.

-'It-It feels fine.' He'd struggle to stabilize his voice... and to keep his orgasm at bay. Your skill was mind numbing- He could feel his climax ebbing-

-When you pulled away entirely.

-Douma looked at you like you'd shot his dog, if he could even care for a dog. You hadn't seen his fingers in his jaw, but you saw the after math, blood running thick down his neck and lips-

-'Guess I'll stop. I'm sorry I wasn't any good.' You went to go sit back down, Douma's eyes wide. It was an unusual expression, almost creepy in a way.

-'Are you serious?' Douma laughed, though this one had more life... more desperation.

-'Yes?'

-it was a beautiful look to finally see Douma pained- longing- in desperate need of relief he just wasn't going to get-

-His eyes darted around in question, back slumping as his dick sat up with the most ease He'd ever experienced...

-You smiled kindly as Douma raised up with shirt. It caught at his collar bone, scrunched up just beneath his neck. He bore his chest to you, nipples pink, puffy, and very irritated.

-Christ, you were gonna cum. You were going to fucking cum- he looked pathetic. The power surge that ripped through your body at the sight of him all but verbally begging was intoxicating.

-Christ.

-'It felt good, continue?' He was trying his damndest to keep even a semblance of control, but that look in your eye told him He'd have you work much harder-

-'It felt really good.' Douma slowly spread his legs, displaying just how hard He'd really gotten- His cock was straining through his pants. 'Keep going- I need to cum.'

-The word you wanted was 'please' but the sight of him struggling not to touch his own chest, fingers fluttering around the rim of his shirt, drove you back to his boobs with no hesitation-

-Douma let out a guttural noise- not a moan or a groan, but more of a wail-

-When Douma finally came- perhaps only a moment after you went back, it was because you'd nearly bitten his nipple clean off. The pain shot right to his dick, and Douma came- in his pants- head back against his array of pillows- jaw tight around his shirt that had slipped between his fanged bite.

-He even felt something a kin to a tear threaten his eye. How impossible.

-You weren't allowed near him for a week. Remember your place, slut 😤😒

[leerevoid]

A request from the ts discord!

The LI's with an MC who usually dresses really modestly dressing slightly scandalous for a date. Like, their usual outfit inudes long sleeves+pants, baggy clothing, layers, etc and the date outfit is tighter, exposes some torso when they move Juuuuust right, maybe has a chest window and lacy bits or something else scandalous

Thank you so much for your request, anon ! It was very sweet and I'm super sorry for the time it took me to answer it but !! here goes !!

The Love Interests when MC dress slightly scandalous, while they usually dress modestly -

Ais - Ais would be the type to tease MC as soon as he realizes they put some effort into it. He would make jokes, getting on MC's nerves slightly : “Someone is looking very nice today, Why is that, I wonder…?” But in the end, he would be very touched by MC's efforts to impress him for a date. If MC ends up being insecure with their choice of clothing, he would reassure them instantly, offering to hold their hand and kissing their knuckles despite the bandages, telling MC that in the end, they are beautiful to him no matter what, and he doesn't need these artifices to see how wonderful they are. 

“Your true colors are everything to me.”

Kuras - Kuras would definitely be excessively flustered and surprised MC decided to put in some effort to impress him. He would double check everything during the date, making sure MC is alright, wanting to step up his own game to make it a worthwhile experience for MC. He would be completely at loss for words, but MC would know just with his gaze how much Kuras loves and reveres them, his eyes completely on MC at all times, savoring the moment with them and the sight of their beauty. 

“You are breathtaking, tonight. I hope you can shine some of your light on me, one day.”

Leander - Leander would blush so bad. He would act all gentlemanly and proper, but on the inside, he would be dying to hold MC in his arms, and he would ask them just that. Thanks to his magic, MC would have absolutely no issue to reciprocate the contact. He would be so proud to be MC's significant other, looking at them with pure adoration as they chuckled at one of his stupid jokes. Leander would never leave MC's side during their date, getting extra cuddly and craving their contact.

“I just want to feel the real you, Love. Now won't you hold me some more ?”

Mhin - Mhin would be quiet, at first. They wouldn't understand why, out of all the people MC knew, they would dress up for them. Mhin would be so used to MC's standard fits that they would probably gasp a little seeing them, but would probably makes it pass as a yawn. This new outfit definitely makes Mhin see MC in a new light, the outfit they picked hugging their forms just right while not being too revealing, leaving some space to imagination. They would probably caress Mc's cheek at the end of the date, finally admitting how wonderful MC looked. 

“I do have to say… you didn't really need to go all out like this.. but it does suit you. It suits you so well.”

Vere - Vere would be proud of MC for finally rivalizing with him. He would show MC off to everyone, yet still holds MC’s waist possessively with one hand. They are his. MC feels a little like an expensive bag spurn around, but the excited swish of Vere’s tail is enough to reassure them and make them realize that he truly appreciate the effort MC put into this date. If MC let him, Vere would add his own little touch to it, giving MC an accessory or a shawl he particularly likes (and marking MC as their prey, and no one else’s). 

“Well, well, well… I have to admit that dressed like this, you could give me some serious competition in the Amaryllis District. But with that… Yes, you’re perfect like this. Now, they know who you belong to.”

[ckret2]

Chapter 26 of human Bill doing his best to arm-twist his captors into doing anything he wants, featuring: the gang going to the mall, where Bill tries on some of the most ridiculous outfits known to mankind, to Mabel's delight and Stan & Dipper's despair.

(please click on the second image, you can't imagine how long it took to make those two patterns. (Okay you probably can, it was a couple hours.))

####

Bill said, "Well, you can tell Stanford that if he's got a problem with my drinking, I'd like to see him try to get a good night's sleep in an alien body without some kind of sedative! I've got a fresh new liver, three little cans of cider a day won't kill me before one of us finds a way to get me out of this body!"

Exasperated, Mabel said, "Why do I have to tell him? Just talk to each other."

"You think I don't want to? He's the one who's put two doors, an elevator, and a trick vending machine between him and me."

Mabel supposed that was true. "Okay, fine. More importantly: what do you think of going shopping?"

Bill shrugged. "Sure. I'll take any opportunity to go outside. It'll be a good test run for other trips."

Mabel frowned, clearly disappointed by the reaction. "That's it? I thought you'd be more excited. You can finally get more clothing!"

"How much clothing do I need?" He gestured down at himself, wearing his hoodie and a borrowed skirt. "I'm not naked, what more do you want from me?"

"To like your clothing!"

"Oh, right. I keep forgetting you have a whole thing about people other than you being happy."

Mabel socked his arm. "Do you just not care about clothes? I didn't expect you to be like Dipper about it."

Eugh. "It's not that I don't like fashion in general," Bill said, eager to distance himself from the household wet blanket. "I have very strong opinions on other people's fashion! It's just..."

It was just that he didn't relish the idea of standing in front of a mirror, partially nude, staring at the bone-caged skin prison he was locked inside.

He still put towels over the bathroom mirror when he showered.

"Well," he said, "isn't the whole point of fashion self-expression? And my self can't be expressed in this body." He tugged on the collar of his hoodie, "This is as close as it's gonna get."

"Does clothing have to express your self? Can't it just look really cool?" Mabel asked.

Bill considered that. "I do like looking really cool."

Maybe he didn't have to see it as dressing himself. Treat it like inflicting his design whims upon a helpless human puppet. He'd done that before, he liked doing that. He was lucky, at least, that as far as puppets went, this was an incredibly good-looking one. Aside from the neck.

"Do I have to wear that, though?" Bill skeptically eyed the knit garment held in Mabel's hands.

"Yep! Grunkle Ford's orders! It's to make sure you don't talk to people."

"Can I put it on over my hoodie?"

"As heartwarming as it is that you love it so much: no, you've gotta take it off."

"How come?"

"It's safer this way! Your hoodie might freak people out."

"Freak them out how?"

####

Soos trudged into the kitchen at 3 a.m., yawning, and turned on the lights.

The Bill Cipher, triangular and angular, gold-bricked and one-eyed, hovered in the air.

Soos screamed. "He's back! Everyone watch out! You stay away from my family, you—" Soos picked up the nearest weapon and chucked it at Bill.

The spatula bounced harmlessly off his chest and clattered to the floor. Bill took his hood off. "Wow. Thanks for getting my hopes up, Questiony."

"Oh, whoops. Sorry 'bout that. At a quick glance, that hoodie makes you look a lot like... you." Soos looked Bill up and down again. "Hey. How come you're standing on the kitchen table in the middle of the night?"

"Eh." Bill shrugged. "It passes the time."

####

"Sometimes I curse your species's overactive pattern-detection instincts." Bill snatched Mabel's offering out of her hand and trudged to the bathroom to change.

He emerged a moment later wearing the tank top Mabel had knit for him, and tugged out the hem to examine it. She'd cross-stitched on the chest: "STAY BACK! I BITE SALES PEOPLE!"

"I'd be pretty insulted," Bill said, "if this wasn't the funniest thing I've ever worn."

####

Stan pulled the old Diablo near the porch to minimize the amount of time Bill would spend in open air between confinement in the shack and in a vehicle; then waited leaning against the car, glowering at the ground like the world's surliest chauffeur (he'd even put on his suit), for Dipper and Mabel to escort the prisoner outside.

The second Bill stepped off of the porch, he looked up in amazement. "What is that?"

Dipper and Mabel looked at Bill's face, then in the direction he was looking. He was staring straight into the sun without squinting. Mabel said, "The... sun?"

"No, not the sun! I mean the—" Bill gestured toward the sun. "Whatever it's doing."

Mabel looked skyward again. She didn't see anything else Bill could be referring to. "Shining?"

"I know what sunshine is!"

"Then what are you asking about!"

Bill studied the sky a moment longer. Finally, he said, "Guess I don't know what sunshine feels like! It's been a long time since I've been naked in the sun."

Stan's head snapped up to stare at Bill. Bill was still completely clothed.

After another few seconds, arms outstretched, staring in blank-faced wide-eyed wonder at the sky, Bill concluded, "I think I'm photosynthesizing again."

This time Dipper looked over. And, Bill was still completely human—a species notoriously well-known for not photosynthesizing. "'Again'?"

Bill didn't respond. Instead, with a shrill cackle that startled the nearby birds out of the trees, he took off at a full sprint.

"Hey!" Dipper tore after him. Stan tensed up, but then grunted, leaned back against his car, and waited for Bill to trip.

Bill's run was the awkward bouncing gait of a moon astronaut on fast forward: someone who at some point had definitely learned how to run, but clearly wasn't used to doing it in this body on this world. He switched to an odd sideways crab-walk gallop—which was, surprisingly, faster—and then attempted, and failed, a cartwheel. Dipper dove for Bill, Stan laughed at them both, and Mabel shouted encouragement at Bill from the porch; Bill hopped back up just before Dipper could catch him.

He attempted a second cartwheel but was caught in the middle by an invisible force jerking his wrist. He yelped and tumbled to the ground. "I think I twisted my arm!" He sounded way too giddy about this.

Mabel looked down at her own wrist and the chain bracelet. She wasn't being actively pulled toward Bill; but nevertheless she couldn't pull her wrist any further away from him. "It worked."

"Of course it did!" Breathing heavily, Bill got to his feet and leaned backward on his heels, using the tension of the bracelet around his wrist to keep from falling. "What, did you ever doubt me?"

"Yes," Stan said. "Always," Dipper said. "Every time you open your mouth," Mabel said.

"You're all haters."

Mabel took a flying leap off of the porch. Bill toppled on his back again.

Once they were all loaded in the car—Dipper in the front glaring in the rear view mirror, Mabel and Bill in the back with Bill making faces at the mirror—Stan said, "Okay. I'm not getting you anything nice, because you're not worth it."

"Aww. And after I made you almost five grand?"

Dipper's jaw dropped. "He what?! When did—"

Raising his voice, Stan went on, "So we're going to Shop Thrifty. Any complaints?"

Bill said, "You don't wanna go there."

Stan turned to give him a dark look.

"You don't," Bill said. "They were robbed this weekend. Security's gonna be high."

"No they weren't, you can't know that. You're making that up. I'm calling your bluff."

Dipper cleared his throat. "Actually... yeah, they were robbed. I've been investigating the possibility that it might've been..." At the sight of Bill's keen gaze in the rear view mirror, Dipper trailed off into mumbles.

Bill waited a second longer to ensure Dipper was properly cowed; then said, "See? You can trust me! But if you want to go to the thrift shop..."

"Ha." Stan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel; then reluctantly said, "I guess we could go to the mall—"

Mabel pumped her fists in the air. "THE MALL!"

"Yes! Finally!" Bill dragged his hands down his face in relief. "Civilization! Other people!"

"Hey!" Stan turned around to point threateningly at Bill. Bill held up his hands to block the accusatory finger. "This still isn't a social trip. Talk to anyone and we're going back to the car."

"I know, I know. I just wanna look at people. That's all!" Bill said. "You know that feeling when you come out of a couple weeks in the hole? When you're grateful just to see anybody?"

Stan's frown deepened; but he didn't say anything. He just turned around, ignored Dipper's curious look, and started driving.

Mabel and Bill high-fived.

####

As the car pulled into a parking spot, Mabel handed Bill a pair of mirrored sunglasses with one lens popped out. Bill rolled his (yellow, slitted) eye, but he switched his eyepatch over to the lensless side of the sunglasses and put them on. "Nobody'll notice my eyes. They only look inhuman at certain angles."

"We're being extra cautious," Mabel said.

"If you're gonna make me wear shades any time I'm in public, can I at least pick a pair I like while I'm here?"

Mabel said, "Sure!" at the same time Stan said, "Not a chance." Dipper looked between the two of them, and said, "I'm with Stan."

"I wasn't taking a vote." Bill leaned forward to shove Dipper's hat over his eyes, and followed Mabel out of the car before Dipper could retaliate.

Bill's grin got a little wider and his gait a little bouncier the closer they got to the mall, until he was practically skipping through the automatic doors. "Look at this place! I can't remember the last time I visited a bazaar this booming in person! Two stories, even! Wow!"

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Gravity Malls was, by far, the smallest mall either of them had ever visited. You could see from one end of it to the other in a straight shot, and the anchor store was just a more popular chain's discount outlet location. Dipper muttered, "He's trying too hard to talk up the place."

Mabel giggled. "Maybe he's easily impressed."

Bill evidently didn't care. He was too busy taking in the sight of all the stores and all the people who didn't hate his guts (or, at least, didn't know they did). He chipperly said, "Hey there!" as he wove around a haggard teenage kiosk salesman.

"Hello?" Snapping into sales mode, the kiosk kid said, "Are you interested in genuine gold-plated signet rings? We have rings with dragons, eagles, Chinese characters, American flags, football teams..."

Bill did a u-turn without slowing down. "Boy, am I! You got any secret societies?"

Stan wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders—"No, you're not interested."—and dragged him away. He lowered his voice. "What happened to no talking to anyone?"

Bill laughed. "Sorry, I got excited!"

"Uh-huh. Get 'excited' one more time, and I'll assume you're 'forgetting' the rules on purpose and we're going home."

Bill stopped laughing. "Okay, fine." He trudged alongside Stan, sulking.

####

Stan tried to direct them toward the discount outlet store; Bill looked wistfully at Edgy On Purpose; Mabel overruled them both by grabbing Bill's hand and bodily dragging him to the coolest store in the mall: 18th Century, the place where the almost-and-barely college kids shopped, and Mabel's newest fashion avatars now that she'd had a year to explore "teenage" fashion and had gotten over it. "You can tell it's for college kids, because they also sell bedsheets and inflatable furniture," she explained as they entered, just before abandoning Bill with Stan as she ran off to start collecting clothing on Bill's behalf. Bill and Stan side-eyed each other, and Bill drifted off toward the small home goods section.

"Ooh, Dipper look." Mabel pointed at a sales rack. "Out-of-season prom dresses! Those are the fanciest dresses!" She dove in eagerly, checking the size tags.

Dipper hovered behind her, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, trying to stand far enough away that it didn't look like he was an active participant in this shopping trip but not so far away that people might start wondering why a thirteen-year-old boy was in the dress section by himself. "Are you shopping for B—for Goldie, or for yourself?"

"For Goldie, obviously! He likes having a triangular silhouette, he needs dresses!"

"Does he want dresses?"

Mabel made a vague I dunno sound. "I haven't asked him yet."

"Maybe you should?"

"It's fine, I'm going to! He can tell me when he catches up!" Mabel pulled out a sequin-studded dress that looked like it had been constructed out of fluorescent pink peacock feathers. She paused. "Okay, it's not exactly his style, but do you think he might try it on anyway?"

Dipper groaned. "Mabel, he's a guy, he's not gonna try on a dress. He wears top hats and bow ties, remember?"

"I know, but... just for fun...?"

Dipper shook his head. Mabel sighed.

Bill rounded a rack of clothing, using a curtain rod he'd claimed out of the home goods section like it was a cane. "Hey, star girl. I know we're here on a focused mission, buuut do you think we could spare a minute to try something just for fun..." He trailed off as he and Mabel simultaneously realized they were both holding a pink peacock dress. Bill's face lit up. "Where have you been all my life?"

"Shut up! How are you this cool!"

"Where's the dressing room."

They took off for the back of the store, Bill tripping over a whole clothing rack as he went.

Dipper watched them uncomfortably, decided he didn't want to follow, and picked his way to the front of the store, where Stan was leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed tightly and a sour look on his face. Dipper asked, "Does it worry you how well Mabel and Goldie..."

"Ohhh yeah."

####

Bill swung open the dressing room door. "Well? Whaddaya think?" He fanned out the feathers as best he could with his hands. 

"It's so beautiful," Mabel said.

"It's hideous," Stan said.

"It's kinda baggy around the shoulders and chest," Dipper said.

Bill shrugged. "I've got the shoulder span of a snake and the hips of a sumo wrestler, what do you expect?"

"It's okay, I can tailor anything we get," said Mabel, who had never tailored anything in her life but was sure she had a book on it in Piedmont.

"Tailor nothing," Stan said, "we're not getting this! What, are you crazy?"

Bill said, "Obviously."

Stan gestured at him. "What in the world would you wear this for?"

"Who cares? It looks cool and this body is merely a meat armature to drape coolness upon." Bill stepped back into the dressing room to eye the dress in the mirror. "Color's a little uniform, though. I'd need some accessories to break it up."

"I think you're right," Mabel said, stroking her chin. "You know what color goes best with hot pink?"

Simultaneously, she and Bill said, "Lime green," then cracked up and pointed at each other excitedly. 

Stan and Dipper exchanged a tired look.

####

"How about this one?" Bill looked at Stan and Dipper, who were standing guard while Mabel searched for more clothes. "It's obviously the best shirt in the store, but is it me?" Bill was wearing a loose Hawaiian shirt covered in bright multicolored triangles with animal skin patterns—leopard, zebra, tiger, checkers—and a pair of black jeans that fit his hips but consequently drowned his ankles. "Trick question. It's me all over!" He laughed. His laughter petered out. "It's... it's more me than I am. Wow."

Dipper and Stan didn't laugh. "I'm a Hawaiian shirt kind of man," Stan said, "but if the choice was between that thing and going naked, I'd go naked."

"Keep your nudist fantasies to yourself, Stanley." Bill studied his reflection again. "The shirt's great, but they make the pants look dull. I need something that coordinates with it. But what..."

Mabel returned while Bill was musing on his shirt. She wordlessly held out the pair of cheetah/tiger print rainbow leggings she'd been retrieving. It matched the shirt perfectly, in the sense that they both had so many colors on them that inevitably some of those colors were accidentally the same.

Bill accepted the leggings with an expression close to awe. "You're a fashion genius," he said. "Are you sure you don't want your own planet?"

"Not from you," Mabel said.

And for a moment, Bill actually almost looked hurt.

####

Bill held up several shirts thoughtfully. The first was an eye-searing abomination; the second was a retina-burning nightmare; and the third was about the same, but it was covered in smiley faces, and somehow that made it worse.

"I feel like they'd all have the right psychological effect on my enemies," Bill said, "but all three is a little redundant, isn't it?"

Not looking, Stan asked, "Is the effect you're trying to have boring your enemies to death? Because it's working."

Bill scowled. He chucked all three at Stan's face. "Fine! Stick them in the 'maybe' pile, I'll narrow them down later." By this point, the "maybe" pile in Stan's arms was almost too big for him to carry.

"My willingness to indulge Mabel is losing to my annoyance at indulging you," Stan said. "I thought this was going to be a quick trip."

"Yeah, well, I'm kinda getting into it."

"Well, would you get out of it and dress like a normal person?"

"Okay, fine. I'll try on something subtle—"

"Goldie!" Mabel ran up waving a ruby red jacket over her head. "Look what I found in the clearance bin! Glittery vinyl!"

Bill's eyes widened.

Reverently, Mabel said, "It looks like a 50's diner booth."

"Is the picture on the back a—?"

"Yeah, it's a puking kangaroo."

Bill snatched the jacket from her hands. "I'll try something subtle after this."

Stan groaned. "I'm gonna stretch my legs." He dropped the "maybe" pile on the floor. "Dipper, make sure the demon doesn't try to end the world while I'm gone."

Dipper resigned himself to the fact that this shopping trip was never going to end, and curled up on the floor to wait to die.

####

"Now, this is a keeper," Bill said, examining the summer dress in the mirror. With Stan gone, Bill had a moment of leisure to properly inspect the way the fabric moved and draped. He was using the opportunity to grab the skirt and twirl it like a three-year-old who'd never worn a dress before. "It really speaks to me."

Mabel asked, "Is it because it's covered in—?"

"It's because it's covered in yellow triangles. I know what I like!" He spun around to see how the skirt flared out, tripped and fell over—"I meant to do that!"—and heaved himself back upright with his curtain rod cane. "I'm fine, shoo." He waved off Mabel's attempt to help, and brushed off the dress. "Too bad it looks weird with pants. I'd prefer my legs covered, but dresses are the only thing most human stores carry that flatter my shape, so what're you gonna do."

"What about more leggings?" Mabel asked.

"Do they have any black ones that don't look like cheap spandex?"

"I think I saw some that look like jeans!"

"It'll do. Good thinking, star girl."

"Any time, triangle... guy." Mabel paused. "Hey... just out of curiosity—since I don't think we ever really covered this, since you're an alien and all—aaare you a guy or a girl?"

"I'm a triangle! C'mon, you already know that."

Mabel opened her mouth to protest that Bill hadn't answered her question; hesitated as she realized that maybe, in fact, he had; and instead asked, "Is a triangle more like a guy or a girl?"

Bill paused as he gave the question a moment of contemplation; and then he said, "No, not really."

Dipper, who'd been using the "maybe" clothing pile as a pillow and pretending to ignore everything Bill did, finally gave in to the urge to glance over curiously.

Mabel concluded a triangle must be either in the exact middle of the scale, or else outside of it completely. "Oh! Okay."

Bill elbowed Mabel and said, "Keep this bit between you and me," blithely ignoring the fact that Dipper was totally within earshot and now seething about being ignored in return. "But if anyone else on this planet asks, I'll usually imply I'm a 'man,'" he put the word in finger quotes, as though he wasn't wholly convinced that "men" really existed, "but—that's strictly for business."

"Business?"

"You know, work stuff," Bill said dismissively. "It makes things easier. See, for the last few millennia, most humans have taken a male's suggestions a bit more seriously than a female's, even when the entity they're talking to is an all-knowing extra-dimensional divine alien angelic muse. Crazy, right?" He said this like he was imparting some great secret he'd figured out by himself.

"Ugh, yeah," Mabel groaned. "Sexism."

"Sexism," Bill sighed, as if he had any dog in this fight at all and wasn't just pretending he could commiserate with his only local friend. "So I figure I can get things done faster as a Bill than a Jill. But honestly? Your local gender system doesn't make any more difference to me than it would to you if somebody asked how many sides you have."

Mabel considered the matter of her hypothetical sides. "I feel like I'd have seven sides."

"Oho! I stand corrected." Bill laughed. "I would've pegged you as a pentagon. I'll remember that."

Mabel had no idea what information she'd just conveyed to Bill, but she felt like he was impressed she had an answer at all.

####

"How about this one?"

"I love it. It's so mysterious," Mabel said.

Stan said, "I thought you were gonna try on something subtle?" 

"What's more subtle than camo! That's the whole point of it!"

Dipper said, "You're not wearing camo."

Bill looked down at his galaxy print tank top, galaxy print button up, galaxy print skirt, galaxy print leggings, and galaxy print sneakers. "I guess what counts as camouflage depends on the context."

"Wh—" Dipper blinked at Bill in disbelief. "In what context could this possibly qualify as camouflage?"

"Is that a trick question?"

Drily, Stan asked, "You got travel plans taking you to outer space anytime soon, pal?"

Bill's shoulders slumped.

"Now put on something you might actually wear," Stan said.

####

Bill opened the dressing room door with four sets of basic black leggings and pants, a couple shorts, and several plain tops in various shades of gold and yellow. "Okay, done."

"Not gonna model each of these for us?" Stan asked.

"Do you want me to?"

"No."

"Fine! You kids don't need to weigh in on these—they're not as fun as the other outfits you were busy unappreciating." Bill shoved the whole pile against Stan's chest, burying the "maybe" outfits he'd insisted he would narrow down. "Okay, let's go."

Stan scowled. "How many outfits did we agree to get you?"

"You didn't." Bill headed to the front of the store.

Mabel started to follow him, paused, glanced back at Stan, and said, "Maybe you can just... toss some of it back on the racks?"

"Maybe you can toss most of it," Dipper said. "How much does he really need, like two shirts and two pants?"

Mabel laughed. "Shut up, that's what you wear!"

Stan rolled his eyes, but headed to the front of the store with an armload of clothing.

The cashier smiled as Bill approached, read his "I BITE SALES PEOPLE" shirt, and quickly turned her attention to Stan. "Hi! Did you find everything you needed?"

"Yeah, and then some," he grumbled, shooting a look at Bill and Mabel. He dumped the pile of clothing on the counter with a heavy groan proportionate to the emotional weight of carrying Bill Cipher's shopping, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Where'd I put my wallet?"

As the cashier scanned the clothes, took off the security tags, and stuffed them into bags, Stan alternated between snatching up the bags to sling them over his arms—looking grumpier with each one—and searching for his wallet. "I'm sure I put... ah-ha!" He withdrew it triumphantly. "There! I know I've got a twenty in here somewhere."

The cashier immediately stopped scanning to give Stan a perplexed look. Hopefully, she asked, "Will you be paying for the rest by card?"

"What do you mean, 'the rest'? How much could this stuff—?" Stan grabbed the price tag on one of the shirts, squinted at it, and grabbed his chest. "Holy moly! For one shirt? This is robbery!"

Mabel winced. "I guess it's a little bit pricier than the thrift shop, but it's not that bad—is it?"

"Not that bad?! For prices like this, it'd be cheaper to get a boat ticket to Taiwan and rob the sweatshop where they sew this stuff! Forget it!" He started sliding bags off his arms and tossing them back on the counter. "Keep them! We're not shopping here!"

"But Grunkle Stan!" Mabel grabbed his coat. "We just found a bunch of stuff that's perfect for Goldie! Please?"

"Do you think I care? He'd be wearing potato sacks if I had my way! We'll go to the outlet store, those are the prices he deserves."

Dipper groaned. "Do we have to do this whole thing all over again?" He and Mabel both looked pleadingly at Bill, waiting for him to protest the return of his carefully-curated wardrobe of tacky golden horrors.

Bill shrugged. "If he didn't bring enough money to the mall, there's nothing we can do about it now."

"Hey! This isn't on me! If it wasn't for you, we'd be at the Shop Thrifty right now!"

Bill scoffed. "Come on, Stanley. It's the 2010's. Even at a thrift store, how far do you think a Jackson's gonna carry you?"

"I think it'd get me a sock I could cram in your mouth, how do you like that?" Stan tossed the last bag on the counter, told the dismayed cashier, "And he looked ugly in everything he picked out, anyway," and stomped toward the door.

"I'm so sorry," Mabel said to the cashier, and hurried after Stan with Dipper. "But Grunkle Stan, we found so many nice things here! We could at least get a couple shirts or leggings..."

"Hey," Bill said. "It's okay, kid."

Mabel shut her mouth, but she didn't look happy about it.

The party trailed behind Stan past a couple of stores, before Bill sped up to walk alongside him and asked, "Well? What's our haul?"

Stan grunted. "What?"

A slow, sly grin spread across Bill's face. "Come on. You can fool the humans, but you can't fool me. What's our haul?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Bill raised a brow.

Stan only lasted a couple of seconds before he cracked a mischievous smile as well. "Oh, did you mean this haul?" He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a pair of leggings. And then another pair. And then, from his other pocket, a Hawaiian shirt. And—

Mabel gasped. "Grunkle Stan," she hissed. "You didn't!"

"Aw, man." Dipper smacked his forehead. "So all that was an act?"

—and three pairs of socks out of his jacket sleeve, and a dress from his inner coat pocket, and— "Yeeep. I've still got it."

Mabel and Dipper exchanged an exasperated look.

"And you were gonna hit the thrift store." Bill lifted his sunglasses so Stan could see him roll his eye.

"Hey, they've usually got less security than the mall. It's a safer score."

"Cheaper, too."

"You shut up! I'd like to see you do as well."

A bright smile snapped across Bill's face. "Would you! Then get a load of this—" He showed off the front and back of one empty hand, then the other; curled one into a fist; pushed his fingers into the fist and plucked out a corner of fabric; and then, like a magician revealing a long line of scarves tied at the corners, pulled out one garment after another, shirts and skirts and pants. Mabel buried her face in her hands. Dipper looked around like he expected mall security to run up and immediately arrest them all. Bill said, "What'd we lift, almost half the stuff I picked? Neither of us managed to get the kangaroo jacket, did we."

"How did you..." Stan trailed off, jaw dropped.

Bill smugly stuffed the clothing back under his tank top. "All that, and... these." Bill lifted one foot and wiggled it, showing off the yellow foam clogs he'd changed into.

"You just walked out with those on?"

"Sure! You'd be amazed what you can do in plain sight—as long as you don't call attention to it."

"Where the heck are your sandals?"

"Not my problem." Bill gestured vaguely back toward 18th Century with his curtain rod cane. "From the lost-and-found they came, to the lost-and-found they shall return."

Stan, having had his attention called to the curtain rod cane, snatched it out of Bill's hand with a muttered "No weapons," and tossed it in a nearby trash can. Bill watched it go with an expression of miffed resignation. Stan said, "Okay, but how'd you get the security tags off all of those?"

And Bill's grin was back. "Maybe I'll show you—if you show me how you got all that clothing out of those bags into your pockets."

"I thought you were watching."

"My eye is better than my physical coordination. Give me a couple pointers and I'll give you a couple."

Stan looked doubtful. "I just saw you hide half a suitcase under a tank top. I don't think you need any more help with..."

"I'll sweeten the deal," Bill said. "I'm not really a clogs guy. You set me up to walk out with a pair of proper dress shoes, and I'll help you grab a couple rings from that booth at the door?"

Stan scowled. Bill grinned wider. "Come ooon. I know you were eyeing those rings too."

"If we get caught and you throw me under the bus, I'm dragging you down with me."

"I wouldn't dream of it! I don't think either of us can afford to show up on the police's radar, do you?"

"All right, fine. You've got yourself a deal, Cipher."

Mabel silently slid her cell phone over to Dipper so he could text Soos and Ford about this unsettling development.

####

(Thanks for reading!! As always, if you made it this far I deeply appreciate any thoughts & comments you want to share! Stay tuned next week for the unsettling development to get Even Worse.)