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xhoneygirlxx · 9 months

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In My Feels

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Steve’s heart now belongs to the pretty woman who always comes in with her two adorable kids. When he finally decides to make a move, he’s shocked to find out she’s not their mom.

warnings: fluff. Barista!Steve. Reader and Steve are both in their 20’s. Nanny!Reader. Modern!au. Readers ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. Pictures above are used for aesthetic purposes only. Shitty writing/grammar errors, not proofread.

*if I miss anything please let me know.

a/n: day two of my birthday bash has finally arrived!! I’m so grateful for the amount of love and support you guys have given me. Although this is my birthday week, I wanted to spend it with you guys and give us both something we can enjoy :) I love every single one of you guys and I hope you like this!

Now I’m in my feels

Way up in the clouds somewhere now

Don’t know what’s real

Working at the Java Cup, Steve dealt with a lot of different people. Tired students, doctors and nurses coming and going from shifts, and everyone in between. During the six months of his employment there only one customer seemed to catch his attention, you.

From the moment you walked in he knew he was fucked. With one kid on your hip and the other in the stroller, you already had him in the palm of your hand. No matter what, rain or shine, you and your two kids always came in with bright smiles. Although a lot of your interactions were small talk or your older son trying to, his heart infatuation for you every single time.

You were so fucking beautiful and Steve was nothing but a fool for you. So many times he would go home and just pray that you weren’t taken, that maybe somewhere written in the stars there was a chance for him.

Steve wanted to ask you out but every single time he chickened out, throwing out multiple cup sleeves that had horrible puns written on them in the process. Ever since getting broken up with by Nancy, his self esteem and confidence dropped. No matter how many times his best friend and coworker, Robin, tried to talk some sense into him, he just couldn’t do it.

It was comical watching him stutter and blush scarlet every time you would speak, tripping over his words like it was his first time ever talking. Because he was so smitten with you, his insecurities grew and poking fun at him any time he would think about possibly asking you out.

Here you were, a pretty mom with two adorable kids that he adored, so sweet and kind to him, and so far out of his league. There was no pot at the end of this rainbow for Steve, but he continued to chase it in hopes that maybe, just maybe he was wrong.

Now it's been six months and Steve has run out of steam, his legs growing tired and his lungs burning with exhaustion with how long he's been running. So, he's decided that it's time to give up on his mission to of getting to the finish line.

There was no point to continue trying, not when you're probably more than happy with the father of your children, going home to your white picket fence and happy home. So he pulled back, watched from behind the counter, and continued to daydream about the life he's always wanted.

“You know you could just go talk to her, right?” Robin’s voice is louder than she thinks, the low music and hum of the espresso machine doing little to cover it up.

“Say it louder, why don’t you.” Rolling his eyes, Steve continues to wipe down the counter that he’s been working on for the past ten minutes.

“I’m just sayin’, it’s kind of pathetic and creepy that you’re always staring.” Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, the brunette girl runs her hands down her black apron. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“What’s the worst-” Turning on his heel quickly, Steve stares at his best friend with wide eyes, “Robin, there is a laundry list of things that could go wrong.”

“Yeah? Try me.” Crossing her ankle over the other, Robin leans on the sink with a waiting look.

“Firstly, she could be married,” Steve starts counting on his finger.

“No ring on her finger.” Robin counters.

“Well she’s a mom with two kids, I doubt she has time for a twenty something, no good, barista that barely has his life together.”

“EEEEEEEE WRONG,” She makes a loud buzzer noise, “One you aren’t no good, you’re actually a really great person who needs to see just how amazing he is. Two, you may be a barista who can barely keep his life together but, you’re reliable and take care of yourself, not to mention you have your own car and place, more than other twenty somethings. And lastly, you’re also a mother to a group of teenagers, so it works perfectly.”

Dropping his hands down to his sides, Steve lets the words settle into his heart. He was a good person, he did have a good impression with the gaggle of kids he sometimes watches, and he did have some of his life together.

“Okay well, she could reject me and I will not only lose more of my confidence but I’ll also lose my favorite customer.” Sighing in defeat, he whips the rag that still sits in his hand over his shoulder. "Either way, I gave up on that dream a long time ago."

Robin shakes her head, stepping forward to the boy she calls her best friend and shakes him by the shoulders. “You are Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! There was a reason everyone called you king Steve and it wasn’t just because you were a huge dick.”

“Hey!!” Steve raises his voice in defeat and she waves him off continuing her peptalk.

“Listen, I know that lady killer is somewhere in there,” She pokes at his chest, “So you’re gonna put your big boy panties on, walk up to her and ask her out! I’m sick and tired of watching you look all sad and depressing, so you’re going to do as I say or I’ll do it for you.” Smiling brightly at him, the girl taps him lovingly on the shoulder.

Robin may be a lot of things, including annoying, but a liar is not one of them. Steve knows that she will one hundred percent walk up to you, throw him under the bus, with a mega-watt smile as she does it.

Watching his friend walk around the counter with a broom and dust pan in hand, her head turns to wear your sat at a table by the front window, talking to your older son, rocking your baby in the stroller with your foot. Turning her attention back to Steve, she smiles wickedly and turns slightly like she’s heading your way. Anxiety rises in the back of his throat, heartbeat picking up and banging hard in his chest.

“Fine, I’m going just- fuck off.” It comes out through gritted teeth. Running a shaking hand down the front of his apron, Steve rounds the counter muttering something under his breath.

As he walks to the table, Robin gives him two thumbs up and an exaggerated smile to which he replies by simply throwing a middle finger up at her.

As he steps closer to your table the thought of turning back around and hiding in the back room comes into mind.

There’s no pot of gold here, only gray clouds and roaring thunder. He can turn back now and continue his sorrowful journey of pining.

But then he looks at you, smiling and laughing at something the young boy next to you said, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. What a beautiful way to die, Steve thinks. The thunder and lightning is all worth it when he gets to see you as he takes his final breaths.

“H-hey,” His voice is wobbly, nervousness clearly showing as he speaks.

“Hi Steve.” Your eyes meet his, saccharine smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Hi steeb!” The young boy next to you waves while clutching a red crayon in his tiny hand.

“Hi Aidan. How are you little man?” Steve seems to loosen up a bit, the presence of your son lets him exhale just slightly.

“M’colorin a pixture.” The small boy’s tongue pokes between his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he draws what looks like a demented stick figure.

“It looks good, little dude.” Steve encourages, cooing sweetly at him.

“Fanks.” Still focusing on his picture, the smaller boy grabs a different crayon from the box that sits on the table.

“What’s up, Steve?” You ask, still rocking the stroller back and forth with your tennis shoe covered foot.

“Oh-h yeah, um I was just gonna ask, ah what you were doing.” Just like a switch, he’s back to being a fumbling doofus.

You giggle at him and he feels his cheeks tingle with heat. Looking between the two kids, you look back up to the older man in front of you.

“Well, I’m enjoying a coffee while Aidan colors and Bella naps peacefully.” You nod your head slowly, eyeing the barista questioningly.

Steve wants to slap a hand on his forehead, embarrassed by the fact he can’t even formulate one sentence.

“Yeah, no I see that. Seems fun, I mean not fun but like ya know, seems-“ His stammering is cut off by your soft voice.

“Are you okay? You seem really nervous.” Your eyebrows are pinched together, worry painted on your features.

“Me? I’m great, fantastic!” It comes enthusiastic and way louder than he intended, so loud that Robin hears and instantly facepalms.

“Well, that’s great Steve.” You’re still eyeing him suspiciously and he really wants to jump ship.

“I’m just gonna go and do my ugh, my stuff.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, spinning on the ball of his feet leaving before he can say anything else embarrassing.

No, he can’t leave now, not when he’s made it this close to the finish line. This is what he’s been waiting for, the treasure he’s been searching for. It’s no or never and he can’t go back to praying the same prayer that somewhere in this universe you two were destined to be.

With a new found confidence, he turns right back into the eye of the storm and faces it head strong.

“Actually, I came over here because I wanted to know if maybe you’d like to go out sometime.” His chest is puffed out like, more sure of himself than he’s ever been.

The confidence that’s surging through him starts to falter when he reads your expression. You, and Aidan who has now stopped coloring, stare at him with bugged out eyes and gaping mouths.

“Only if that’s okay with you and all. If you want you can bring the kids along and we can go get ice cream and stuff but if you need it I have some friends who are great with kids and who will be willing to babysit for you.” He’s back peddling, trying to give you a way out in case you want to reject him it won’t hurt so bad.

“Oh Steve,” it’s said with pity and he knows the lighting strike is about to hit, “I-I’m not their mom.”

“Yeah no I get it, sorry if I- wait..” Stopping in his tracks, he looks back and forth between you and the small boy, connecting the dots in his head. “You’re not their mom?”

You and Aidan share a look before giggling together. Gazing back up at the flustered man in front of you, you smile kindly at him.

“No, I’m their nanny, Steve. Although I love them like they’re my own, they’re not.”

“Oh.” Steve continues to stare at you, his pretty pink lips in the shape of an O.

“Yeah, I just watch these little guys.” You shrug your shoulders.

“That’s still cool, I mean the offer still stands.” Even though he’s confused, his voice is a little shaky when he asks.

“Do the kids still have to come?” You ask and Aidan shouts an offended “hey”.

“I mean they can if you want, it’s all up to you.” He eyes you, waiting for your reaction but your expression doesn’t give him much to go on.

“Hmmm, I’m going to have to ask my trusted right hand man.” Holding a finger up at him, you leave over to the smaller boy next to you.

Aidan covers you hear with a small hand trying to cover the movements of his lips, even though Steve can still his his muffled whispers from where he stands.

Shaking your head, you repeat back uh huh’s to him, taking everything that’s being said seriously.

Moving back to your upright position, you stare at Steve with a serious gaze.

“Well, my counsel says I should go but you have to buy me ice cream. No buts about it.” Your straight face begins to falter when Steve’s white teeth shine at you.

“Yeah, I’ll get you whatever ice cream you want.” Steve bobs his head, cheeks flaring pink and eyes shining brightly.

“You can’t kiss, only mommies and daddies do dat stuff.” Aidan pipes in and Steve can’t help but chuckle with how the little boys face is scrunched up with intensity.

“Yes sir.” Steve gives the little boy a solute, while sending you a sneaky wink, and the kid quickly accepts.

“So, I’ll text you?” Steve asks

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth as you say it.

“Okay, cool cool. I’ll ah, see you later.” Steve nods his head, backing away from the table slowly.

Sprinting to the backroom, he sees Robin who pretends like she hasn’t been listening in.

“Robs, I fucking did it!” Steve whisper yells, still cautious knowing your still out there.

“I honestly thought you were gonna back out for a second! I’m so proud of you for hanging in there!”

The two of them start hopping around like jumping beans, beaming so brightly they can outshine any star in the sky.

“So you got her number?” Robin asks, heavily breathing from all their excitement.

“Fuck-“ stopping dead in his tracks, Steve bolts to the door and back out to the front.

That’s where he finds you’ve already left and he’s heartbroken. The only memory that you were even there is your lingering perfume that sticks to the air.

You’ll probably be back some time soon but he’s still a little let down knowing he didn’t fully seal the deal. Looking closely at the table, he notices Aidan left one of his drawings.

Picking up the paper, he looks at it closely realizing Aidan didn’t leave it, you did.

Steve,

You left before I could give you my number. I didn’t want to disrupt your little party or anything.

Can’t wait to get that ice cream.

-your favorite customer

683-027-9305

Folding up the paper, Steve sticks it in the pocket of his apron.

“Don’t worry Steve, she’ll be back.” Robin calls out from behind the counter, apparently not seeing the little not that was left.

“I know she will.” It’s said quietly but the smile on his lips isn’t.

It’s beautiful on this side of the rainbow, Steve thinks, the pot of gold was so worth all the work. Robin was right, he still had it.

Thank you all for joining me on this second day of my celebration!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Love you all ❤️

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington friends to lovers #modern!steve harrington

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artsekey · 4 months

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I'd been seeing videos on Tiktok and Youtube about how younger Gen Z & Gen Alpha were demonstrating low computer literacy & below benchmark reading & writing skills, but-- like with many things on the internet-- I assumed most of what I read and watched was exaggerated. Hell, even if things were as bad as people were saying, it would be at least ~5 years before I started seeing the problem in higher education.

I was very wrong.

Of the many applications I've read this application season, only %6 percent demonstrated would I would consider a college-level mastery of language & grammar. The students writing these applications have been enrolled in university for at least two years, and have taken all fundamental courses. This means they've had classes dedicated to reading, writing, and literature analysis, and yet!

There are sentences I have to read over and over again to discern intent. Circular arguments that offer no actual substance. Errors in spelling and capitalization that spellcheck should've flagged.

At a glance, it's easy to trace this issue back to two things:

The state of education in the United States is abhorrent. Instructors are not paid enough, so schools-- particularly public schools-- take whatever instructors they can find.

COVID. The two year long gap in education, especially in high school, left many students struggling to keep up.

But I think there's a third culprit-- something I mentioned earlier in this post. A lack of computer literacy.

This subject has been covered extensively by multiple news outlets like the Washington Post and Raconteur, but as someone seeing it firsthand I wanted to add my voice to the rising chorus of concerned educators begging you to pay attention.

As the interface we use to engage with technology becomes more user friendly, the knowledge we need to access our files, photos, programs, & data becomes less and less important. Why do I need to know about directories if I can search my files in Windows (are you searching in Windows? Are you sure? Do you know what that bar you're typing into is part of? Where it's looking)? Maybe you don't have any files on your computer at all-- maybe they're on the cloud through OneDrive, or backed up through Google. Some of you reading this may know exactly where and how your files are stored. Many of you probably don't, and that's okay. For most people, being able to access a file in as short a time as possible is what they prioritize.

The problem is, when you as a consumer are only using a tool, you are intrinsically limited by the functions that tool is advertised to have. Worse yet, when the tool fails or is insufficient for what you need, you have no way of working outside of that tool. You'll need to consult an expert, which is usually expensive.

When you as a consumer understand a tool, your options are limitless. You can break it apart and put it back together in just the way you like, or you can identify what parts of the tool you need and search for more accessible or affordable options that focus more on your specific use-case.

The problem-- and to be clear, I do not blame Gen Z & Gen Alpha for what I'm about to outline-- is that this user-friendly interface has fostered a culture that no longer troubleshoots. If something on the computer doesn't work well, it's the computer's fault. It's UI should be more intuitive, and it it's not operating as expected, it's broken. What I'm seeing more and more of is that if something's broken, students stop there. They believe there's nothing they can do. They don't actively seek out solutions, they don't take to Google, they don't hop on Reddit to ask around; they just... stop. The gap in knowledge between where they stand and where they need to be to begin troubleshooting seems to wide and inaccessible (because the fundamental structure of files/directories is unknown to many) that they don't begin.

This isn't demonstrative of a lack of critical thinking, but without the drive to troubleshoot the number of opportunities to develop those critical thinking skills are greatly diminished. How do you communicate an issue to someone online? How do look for specific information? How do you determine whether that information is specifically helpful to you? If it isn't, what part of it is? This process fosters so many skills that I believe are at least partially linked to the ability to read and write effectively, and for so many of my students it feels like a complete non-starter.

We need basic computer classes back in schools. We need typing classes, we need digital media classes, we need classes that talk about computers outside of learning to code. Students need every opportunity to develop critical thinking skills and the ability to self-reflect & self correct, and in an age of misinformation & portable technology, it's more important now than ever.

#computers #pc #digital #rant #something something planned obsolescence

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too-fond-to-be-fearful · 5 months

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Been thinking recently about the goings-on with Duolingo & AI, and I do want to throw my two cents in, actually.

There are ways in which computers can help us with languages, certainly. They absolutely should not be the be-all and end-all, and particularly for any sort of professional work I am wholly in favour of actually employing qualified translators & interpreters, because there's a lot of important nuances to language and translation (e.g. context, ambiguity, implied meaning, authorial intent, target audience, etc.) that a computer generally does not handle well. But translation software has made casual communication across language barriers accessible to the average person, and that's something that is incredibly valuable to have, I think.

Duolingo, however, is not translation software. Duolingo's purpose is to teach languages. And I do not think you can be effectively taught a language by something that does not understand it itself; or rather, that does not go about comprehending and producing language in the way that a person would.

Whilst a language model might be able to use probability & statistics to put together an output that is grammatically correct and contextually appropriate, it lacks an understanding of why, beyond "statistically speaking, this element is likely to come next". There is no communicative intent behind the output it produces; its only goal is mimicking the input it has been trained on. And whilst that can produce some very natural-seeming output, it does not capture the reality of language use in the real world.

Because language is not just a set of probabilities - there are an infinite array of other factors at play. And we do not set out only to mimic what we have seen or heard; we intend to communicate with the wider world, using the tools we have available, and that might require deviating from the realm of the expected.

Often, the most probable output is not actually what you're likely to encounter in practice. Ungrammatical or contextually inappropriate utterances can be used for dramatic or humorous effect, for example; or nonstandard linguistic styles may be used to indicate one's relationship to the community those styles are associated with. Social and cultural context might be needed to understand a reference, or a linguistic feature might seem extraneous or confusing when removed from its original environment.

To put it briefly, even without knowing exactly how the human brain processes and produces language (which we certainly don't), it's readily apparent that boiling it down to a statistical model is entirely misrepresentative of the reality of language.

And thus a statistical model is unlikely to be able to comprehend and assist with many of the difficulties of learning a language.

A statistical model might identify that a learner misuses some vocabulary more often than others; what it may not notice is that the vocabulary in question are similar in form, or in their meaning in translation. It might register that you consistently struggle with a particular grammar form; but not identify that the root cause of the struggle is that a comparable grammatical structure in your native language is either radically different or nonexistent. It might note that you have trouble recalling a common saying, but not that you lack the cultural background needed to understand why it has that meaning. And so it can identify points of weakness; but it is incapable of addressing them effectively, because it does not understand how people think.

This is all without considering the consequences of only having a singular source of very formal, very rigid input to learn from, unable to account for linguistic variation due to social factors. Without considering the errors still apparent in the output of most language models, and the biases they are prone to reproducing. Without considering the source of their data, and the ethical considerations regarding where and how such a substantial sample was collected.

I understand that Duolingo wants to introduce more interactivity and adaptability to their courses (and, I suspect, to improve their bottom line). But I genuinely think that going about it in this way is more likely to hinder than to help, and wrongfully prioritises the convenience of AI over the quality and expertise that their existing translators and course designers bring.

#alright getting off my soapbox now #apologies if this is not particularly coherent - i was very much working through my thoughts as I was writing #but yeah tl;dr i am not huge on LLMs especially for language education and am deeply disappointed by the way things are trending #anyways if anyone knows any learning tools that are similarly structured i'd appreciate the recommendation #being able to easily do a little bit of study on a regular basis helped me a lot and i've yet to find anything similar #duolingo #language #language learning

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yunjardi · 11 months

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my heart bel♡ngs to daddy [series]

[young sugar daddy!jake × fem!reader]

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[click here for this series' masterlist to read previous chapters, general warnings, and playlist]

[!!chapter warnings!!: smut [mdni], angst, some fluff?, DADDY KINK, overstimulation, unprotected sex, reader gets lifted up, smoking weed, arguing, crying, mentions of food, mentions of toxic family (!!!) lmk if i missed anything!]

*sorry for any grammar errors

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-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-

chapter 15: lipstick stains

upon arriving home from the japan trip, you gave perry some extra food whilst telling him how much fun you had as if he was listening to your rambling. traveling is fun and all, but nothing beats the feeling of being able to take a shower in the comfort of your home before climbing into your own bed. really the only downside to coming back from a few days off is the work shifts you have to make up. good thing you had an earlier than usual shift; earlier shifts mean you'll have more free time later in the day when things get really busy.

it was quick for you to doze off considering that you had such an eventful few days and now you were thinking about working. but before you could fully fall asleep, you remembered to text jake. you knew he'd worry if you didn't text him at least once before you went to bed.

your tummy filled with butterflies from simply texting the guy, so you could only imagine how much more excited you'll be to see him.

an uneasiness crept up on you while you read the texts over and over again.

why did he speak to you as if he's your boyfriend?

why is he always so affectionate?

'whatever, it doesn't matter, i'll just sleep,' you forced yourself to stop thinking about it in order to get to sleep.

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you woke up at the ripe hour of 3PM in the afternoon which left you with only about an hour and a half to get ready for your shift. springing out of bed, you ran to begin getting ready.

since it was your first day back, you wanted to look extra appealing to the customers because tips are always appreciated, right?

you made sure to put on a bit of makeup to hide the fact that you'd woken up so late, and you headed off to the bar.

the bar had become a bit of an anxiety trigger ever since that girl came around, but you came to realize that she was probably just trying to start some shit because she was most likely bored. you were there to work and nothing else; she just happened to get in your way.

before you could even get to the break room to put your personal belongings in your locker, an excited yeji engulfed you in a tight hug.

"ah, it feels like forever since i last worked a shift with you! innie and i missed you so bad while you were away with your little boyfie in japan!" yeji blabbed excitedly while you two were still hugging, "innie was all sulky because he was stuck with me the whole time ha! you already know how i like to annoy him on purpose."

it made you feel genuine joy to know that your friends were at home waiting for you to come back. you decided to wait until you could all meet up to give them souvenirs that you bought them.

"i never wanna leave you guys again," you remarked as you two broke the hug to begin your shift. yeji nodded in agreement while you guys made sure your outfits were in check before heading out.

the feeling of mixing drinks again felt oddly comforting. after all, it's all you used to do before jake came around; taking care of your customers was something that was important to you because it was once your main source of income. but now that jake was in your life, you didn't have to worry too much about how many tips you made, though it still boosted your confidence to see stacks of cash being given to you.

secretly, you'd been saving up all your tips to get jake a nice gift as a way to thank him for everything. sex was still somewhat a way to 'thank him,' but your heart wanted to make something truly meaningful for some reason. you also didn't want to use jake's money to buy a gift that's for him, so that was a reason to work harder.

your plan was to buy a designer white, long-sleeve button up shirt and make a recreation of the iconic maison margiela kiss-mark shirt. you thought of buying him an original one, but 1. there are only a few in the entire world, and 2. it's a crazy expensive piece of clothing. but it's more personalized and truly one of a kind if you remade it yourself, so you were trying to earn and save as many tips as you possibly could. your backup plan if you didn't have enough money was to make him some sort of baked good that was decorated to say something not-so pg-13 as a little joke. you felt more driven to put even higher quality work into your job because of this. you almost didn't want your shift to end because you were hungry for as many tips you could get. plus, you were having a great workday since no one who's previously messed with you during a shift has shown up.

when the time came for your workday to end, you eagerly walked back into the staff lounge to gather your belongings and head home to count up your money. you hoped and prayed that you could slide by with the money you'd earned.

you wanted to give something, even if it wasn't much, back to him for giving you what you feel you didn't deserve. you always believed that he could put his time, money, and energy into someone or something else, but after he told you that he chose you, you couldn't help but feel guilty for the times you pushed him away, for the times you didn't trust him because you barely trust anyone.

'i want to prove myself to you,' you thought to yourself as you walked to the bus stop, 'i need and want to trust you.'

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the bus ride felt so long which made you even more antsy to get home, but you were more than happy to hop off the bus and speed-walk to your place.

you barged into your house, locking the door behind you before busting into your room to quickly count up your money. if you had enough, you were immediately going out to get the materials you needed so that you could finish tonight and give him his gift the next day.

your heart beat got faster as you realized that you had more than enough money to get everything you needed for your project and some supplies to bake something for him as well as an extra surprise. letting out an excited squeal, you quickly changed out of your work clothes to speed to the shopping center that was closing in an hour and a half.

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you swore that your heart rate hadn't slowed down until you got back home from the shops, hands full of everything you needed to begin making your gifts for jake.

you decided to mix the ingredients for a tray of brownies and put it in the oven so that you had enough time to complete the shirt just in time for the brownies to be baked. you managed to quickly get everything in the oven and began prepping the shirt soon after.

laying out the (outrageously overpriced) white gucci long-sleeve button up on the clean counter, you applied a shade of red lipstick that jake had bought you and began meticulously placing gently kiss marks on the top part of the shirt. it was, surprisingly, turning out better than you anticipated. once the lipstick was set, you took out some fabric paint you bought from the store to touch up the kiss marks, afterwards putting paint sealing solution onto all the kiss marks to further protect them.

as if the timing was perfect, you heard the oven beep. you hung the shirt up in your bedroom before placing the warm brownies on the counter to cool down. you couldn't help but smile to yourself as you imagined what jake's reaction may be to your gifts, especially the brownies.

once they were cool enough, you spelt out 'i love ur huge dick' in chocolate letters as a joke. you knew jake would have a good laugh before eating them. placing the finished brownies in a clear plastic container, you put them aside to begin packaging the shirt in a flat box.

there was one last touch to the gift that you'd been meaning to do for a little while.

you dug out a small ring box and placed a spare key to your house inside it. you figured that he deserved to have one considering how much he took care of you. plus, everyone, 'everyone' meaning yeji and jeongin, who you'd trust with your life had one, therefore it'd be fitting if jake had one.

placing the dainty little ring box inside the same box that contained the shirt, you sealed it so it was ready for you to take to his house the next day.

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the next day came quickly, and you hopped out of bed to gussy up before calling a taxi to head to his place since it'd be quicker to do it that way than if you were to go on the underground train.

you wore a cute, short, pleated white skirt paired with a black and white prada cardigan, white knee-high stockings, and some simple black prada heels to tie the outfit together. you wanted to look pretty for jake since you were showing up to his place unannounced.

the taxi ride to his place was quite long considering that he lived on the opposite side of the city, the city being heavily divided by social class, but it was interesting to look around at the other houses.

finally, you arrived outside the gate of jake's house, typing in the security code that jake gave you to open the gate. now, you had to practically trek across his extravagant front yard and circular driveway just to get to the damn front door. the walk you had to take throughout the front yard felt longer than the taxi ride.

you reached out to ring the doorbell, hearing it echo through the house from outside. since jake's ahem- mansion was quite large, you always expected to wait a minute before he actually came to let you in; it was honestly painfully awkward to just stand there. finally, you heard the door unlock, and you were greeted by a shirtless jake clad in only joggers and a small towel around his nape. you also could help but notice that his hair was now a shade of brown which made you laugh do yourself because of how you made fun of him about doing bald. regardless, his image was making you blush.

"oh, princess," jake said with surprise in his tone, "i didn't expect you to come this early in the day." he smiled sheepishly as he witnessed the shock in your face from seeing him shirtless as if you hadn't seen him in this state a million times. "well, i came early because i brought gifts!" you smiled at jake as he guided you inside, his hand on your lower back. "that reminds me," jake smiled, "i have something for you as well." you couldn't help but become shy at the thought of jake getting you a gift even though he does it literally all the time.

once you got into his main lounge area, you set the clear brownie container and the gift box side by side on his coffee table. jake hovered over the container to read the little message you left on the brownie slab, his giggle turning into his signature laugh. jake moved toward you, hugging you from behind.

"well, if you love it so much, why don't you fuck it?" jake asked you teasingly, gently biting and kissing your neck. "now?" you asked with wide eyes to which jake responded with a hum, the feeling of jake's hard becoming prominent against your back. "if you say so," you shrugged, trying to tease him by seeming nonchalant.

jake moved onto one side of the couch, tossing the towel that was once around his nape onto the table whilst inviting you to sit on his lap.

he pulled you into a messy kiss as you began to grind your hips down hard against his, jake feeling the soft moans you were letting out against his lips.

without breaking the kiss, jake managed to get you out of your clothes, besides your knee high stockings which jake found incredibly sexy, and have you grinding on his bulge. you moved your hands to pull his joggers and boxers off, still as impressed as ever at the sight of his cock. pushing your hips toward him, you took hold of his member and put it against your lower stomach, admiring how deep his cock would be buried inside you. seeing you 'measure' how deep he would be turned him on even more, which he didn't even think was possible considering the fact that he's already fully hard and hot and bothered.

jake quickly lifted your hips, impatient and wanting to be inside you. feeling his thick tip pass through the first few inches of your entrance made you go insane, your walls already tightening around jake's cock. "it barely fits yet you still take every inch so well, princess," jake praised, "now be a good girl and start moving for me, okay?" you nodded in compliance as you gently lifted your hips and collided into his, jake letting out a satisfied groan. jake was so deep inside you that you swore you could feel him all the way in your stomach.

he let you bounce on his cock, adoring how cute you were while moaning as you fell into spells of pleasure. "fuck," you let out a whiny moan, biting your lip gently afterward, "you feel so good, jakey. it's so deep inside me." jake smirked at the way he could feel your thighs gently trembling on top of his, knowing that you were falling apart over his dick.

at this point in time, jake was fully just thinking with his dick which led him to swiftly get up off the couch, still holding you, and begin fucking you while standing up.

your eyes were rolling back as you moaned loudly for him. you were so overtaken by pleasure that you couldn't even let him know that you were about to cum. the feeling of your cum running down jake's hard-on had him fucking you harder, faster. even after all this time, jake's stamina still takes you by surprise. no one could ever do it like jake; he's the only one who could make you go this crazy.

jake soon brought you back to the couch, still not finished with you. he roughly turned you around so that you were facing away from him and made sure you were comfortable before shoving himself back inside you. you let out a loud moan at the sensation before jake began thrusting into you from below, his hands running all over your body yet still keeping you steady at the same time. you, once again, found yourself cumming all over his cock without warning, your orgasm washing over you in waves. "mmm fuck," you whined out, still being stuffed with jake's member, "that feels so good, daddy."

not long after you, jake's orgasm also took over him, hot ropes of cum spurting into you as you tried to catch your breath. it was probably one of the craziest orgasms jake has ever had.

still quietly panting, you let jake pull out so that you could plop down on the couch next to him.

"you're fucking insane, you know that?" you asked with a light laugh once your breathing slowed down. "only because of you, you know that?" jake countered your comment, nudging you on the shoulder playfully before standing up to retrieve some wet wipes from one of the bathrooms so that you two could clean up.

"here, i'll go upstairs and get us some clothes," jake smiled at you as you now tried to hide your body away as if he hasn't seen it a million times already, "if we don't cover up soon, we'll probably end up fucking again." jake joked and let out a laugh, though you both knew his statement was fully true. taking his discarded sweatpants with him, he headed upstairs to his bedroom to fetch some clothes.

you took that time to put your underwear and bra back on before jake came back downstairs. after all, it was kinda starting to feel weird just sitting fully naked in his mansion that had huge windows off to the side from where you were sitting.

soon, jake came back fully dressed and holding out something for you to put on: one of his short-sleeve shirts, a pair of your leggings, and those mid-calf nike socks that you thought were obscurely over priced for just a pack of 4 (but you had to admit that you loved them).

"ah, i forgot your gift," jake sighed as he remembered that he'd left the gift he had for you all the way upstairs, "wait right here, i'm gonna wrap it real nice since it's still up there." he flashed his cheeky yet shy smile, slightly embarrassed that he had 1. forgotten it and 2. hadn't even packaged it yet. "you're silly," you laughed as jake dragged his socks on the marble floors to get back over to the stairs.

you took it upon yourself to get up and go place your gifts for jake over on the kitchen counter since the brownies seemed out of place just sitting on the coffee table. picking up the brownie container and gift box, you headed over to the kitchen to place them both on the counter.

glancing off to the side, you noticed two glass cups next to each other. of course, you wouldn't have thought much of it because why would you, but you couldn't help but notice that one of the cups' rims had faint traces of red lipstick on it.

suddenly, your stomach felt sick. you couldn't tell if you were upset or angry. all you knew was that you wanted to get the hell out of his house.

you sped over to the coffee table, swiftly retrieving your bag and walking into the foyer where you put on a pair of sneakers, that you usually left at his house, and walked out the door.

you didn't slam his door per se, but you closed the door loud enough to make it known that you were leaving.

quickly, you dashed down his driveway and front yard, making it outside of the gate before hailing a cab to take you home.

it took everything in your power to not start crying in the taxi, your phone now ringing off the hook with multiple calls and texts from jake wondering where the hell you ran off to.

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"yeah, and n-now i f-feel h-horrible," you blubbered to yeji over the phone after explaining the situation and how you made the gift yourself only to be confronted by lipstick stains from someone else, "i literally d-don't even w-wanna think about h-him. god, i could puke right n-now." you sniffled loudly and blowed your nose into a tissue. "my sweet y/n," yeji sighed softly, genuinely feeling for you, "i know, i know, let it all out. heck, you could even scream at me if you want to. but seriously, he's such a jerk for that." yeji continued to listen to all the little things you had to say whilst she tried her best to cheer you up.

yeji was really the only other girl you had in your life besides literally yourself. you knew that you couldn't lean on any other woman for issues like this; especially not your mom for because she's on another level of asshole-ness, you didn't talk to your siblings either, your sisters in specific who you could really use right now, at all, so without yeji, you'd probably be doomed when it came to stuff like this.

"honestly," you sniffled, "...i feel like smoking weed right now." yeji couldn't help but chuckle at you. "go ahead, girl, just be safe or you'll get it from me" yeji joked from the other line, "anyways, you know exactly who to call for that stuff."

after hanging up the phone with yeji, you went straight to your contacts, calling someone else up while trying your hardest to avoid all of the missed calls and texts from jake.

"hey, yeonjun."

--------------------------------------------------------

knock, knock, knock.

you sprung up from your bed upon hearing the knocks at the door.

looks like yeonjun is finally here.

you opened the door and were greeted by his sly smile as usual.

you offered him to stay the night since you two would be getting high together, and you didn't want him driving home whilst not being sober. he, of course, jumped at the opportunity.

"hey, it's been a little while," you laughed quietly as he pulled you into a hug, "thanks for showing up on such short notice."

"oh, it's no problem, really," yeonjun shrugged with a chuckle, "now that university is over, i have nothing else to do."

you led him over to your room so that he could set his bag down and get everything ready. he made sure to bring some food over as well since weed tends to make you hungry. yeonjun may seem like the type of guy to just go over to a girl's house and not think about anything but getting some action, but he cared deep down.

both of you sat on the couch, and yeonjun got everything ready for you two to start smoking.

you let him take the first hit, watching him inhale deeply before letting the smoke pass through his pretty lips.

they weren't as pretty as jake's, though.

passing the blunt over to you, he let you take a hit before he pulled you closer and put his arm around your shoulder.

"you don't look the way you usually do," yeonjun pointed out, "there's something wrong, isn't there?" you sighed out after your next hit, nodding in defeat as you rested your head on his arm. "do you wanna talk about it, beautiful? a pretty girl like you should always be smiling," yeonjun asked, not forgetting to add a dash of flirting as he usually did.

"do you remember jake?" you asked as you passed the blunt to him, him nodding before taking a hit, "i think he's seeing someone else at the same time as we're having a... thing, if you can even call it that. i went to his place earlier today to bring him some gifts that i made him the night prior as a surprise, and i saw that he had two cups in his sink, one of them stained with dark red lipstick. it made me feel shitty, so i decided to leave without saying a word to him." you explained between the passing of the almost gone blunt which prompted yeonjun to get up and prepare his bong to smoke from.

"bro is a fucking sleaze, seriously. and i'm not just saying that to make you feel better, i'm saying it because i think you deserve someone who won't lead you on like that. please don't think that you're at fault for being upset," yeonjun reassured you, putting his arm around you again and letting you fall into him after taking another deep inhale of weed, "god, he's a fucking dick for that."

you couldn't help but let a few tears roll down your face as you opened up to him about what happened. you weren't even particularly close to yeonjun, but he just felt so trustworthy. were those thoughts maybe a side effect from being high? possibly. did you really care? nope. you just needed to get everything off your chest.

"please don't cry," yeonjun said upon feeling his shirt become wet with tears, "he is not worth it. guys aren't supposed to leave women in tears like this. remember that, okay?" you nodded as yeonjun helped you dry your tears.

at this point, you couldn't even keep count of how many hits of weed you'd taken. all you knew right now is that you were overcome with intense sadness, barely being able to stop your tears as yeonjun hugged you tight, his sweet cologne tickling your nose.

you were so out of it from your emotions paired with weed that you didn't even notice how quickly you drifted off to sleep.

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waking up, you didn't expect to feel your mattress underneath you. you got up and peered out your open door, seeing yeonjun fast asleep on your couch with a cozy blanket and pillow underneath his head.

quietly, you snuck over to your bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror and staring at how shitfaced you looked from smoking all night. you decided to brush your teeth, wash your face, and fix your hair a bit to see if it'd make you feel better.

you suddenly heard the bathroom door creak open, seeing yeonjun's reflection in the mirror.

"oops, i didn't even think of knocking," he looked down sheepishly. "don't worry about it," you chuckled in response, "i was just on my way out anyway. wanna go out to get breakfast or something?" yeonjun nodded, already beginning to brush his teeth. you smiled at him before walking out of the bathroom to give him privacy.

while you were waiting on him, you decided to plop onto your bed and check your phone.

the calls and texts from jake were reaching the hundreds at this point. from what you could see, he'd been texting you almost all night.

you felt your stomach tie itself into a knot. you slid your phone to the other side of the bed and lied down, pretending to sleep so that yeonjun would leave you be once he got out of the bathroom.

you felt like sobbing your eyes out.

you hadn't gotten texts like these since you left home all those years ago.

shutting your eyes tightly, you tried to think about something else, anything else, but you simply couldn't.

the bathroom door creaked open, yeonjun walking out and spotting you on your bed. he figured that you went back to sleep and decided to chill on the couch until you "woke up."

suddenly, you heard a weird noise that startled you a bit, but you decided to ignore it until you heard the door open.

your soul fully sunk through your body. you forgot that you gave jake a spare key.

"and what do you think you're doing here?" you heard jake's deep aussie accent question yeonjun as you gulped. "i should be the one asking you that question," yeonjun argued back, "y/n? are you awake? we've got some company."

you had to bite the bullet, you had to. you crept out of your room, seeing jake and yeonjun staring at each other with fury in their eyes.

"jake, what are you doing here..." you sighed out as you looked down. jake ran toward you, relieved that you were safe. he reached over to pull you into an embrace which you rejected. jake swore the world stopped spinning when you moved yourself away from it; you'd never done something that...cold.

"uh, s-should i leave?" yeonjun asked awkwardly though still worried. "i advise you do," jake replied to him immediately. "don't talk to my friends like that..." you glared at him, causing him to stiffen.

"okay, i'll go," yeonjun sighed as he walked over to grab his backpack off the floor, "but if i hear that you put your hands on her, you're done for; i'll fuck you up, remember that." before he walked out the door, made sure to mouth 'be safe' to you.

"what the fuck, jake?!" you yelled out once the door was shut, "you didn't have to be aggressive with him! h-he was just helping me with something." it wasn't a complete lie.

"if anything, i should be asking you 'what the fuck!' you literally haven't contacted me since you abruptly left my house yesterday evening no matter how many times i messaged and called you! you had me worried sick! what the hell is going on?! was he here all night? is that why you didn't talk to me? did i interrupt your little fling?" jake rebuttaled.

"you're one to talk about having a little fling," you said under your breath before going off, "you're the one having girls over at your house one after another! you probably dyed your hair for her too... you were probably shirtless and fresh out of the shower because you had something going on before i got there, huh? you're lucky she left before i got there, right? she would've been so upset to see another girl over, wouldn't she? i saw that lipstick stained cup, jake, and i'm absolutely over it. i'm not just gonna sit here and act like i'm fine with this because i'm not."

jake sighed in frustration as he put his forehead on one of his hands. "look, it's seriously not what you think-"

"don't waste your breath. get out, get out and go back to her. what you do is none of my business; i don't give a fuck anymore."

"y/n, fucking listen to me, okay?!"

you flinched at the way he raised his voice. for the second time today, you were brought back to when you were still living with your shitty family. the yelling was getting to be too much, and you were trying your hardest to conceal the tears that threatened to pour from your eyes.

jake noticed how your body seemed to stiffen at how he was talking to you, and he felt horrible about it, but it was the only way you'd listen; he knew you well.

"that girl who was at my house prior to you coming over was the same girl who'd been harassing you at work. she came over unannounced to whine and question why i took you with me to japan instead of her, and i explained everything to her. i kindly asked her to butt out and which only made her angrier. she's trying to get between us, and i don't know what else to do but wait things out and hope she eventually leaves us alone and-"

"if i'm you're "everything," then why are you having such a hard time being assertive toward her? i trusted you, jake... i thought you actually cared, but it seems like you don't anymore."

so much for wanting to trust him, right?

jake's eyes widened in shock at the sudden realization that you heard him say that you're his everything when you guys were back in japan.

"w-wait, you heard that?" jake asked.

"wow, is that really what you're worried about right now? the fact that i heard you lie?"

"i wasn't lying! y/n, please stop being like this. i was serious then, and i'm still serious now. please don't cry."

you honestly didn't even realize you began crying until he pointed it out. frantically, you wiped your tears in embarrassment.

"h-how do y-you expect me t-to believe y-you?" you hiccuped through your tears, "j-just admit t-that y-you don't c-care about m-me." you fully sobbed your eyes out in front of him, your emotions making your body physically weak.

"y/n," jake's voice broke as tears rolled down his cheeks, "i-i just- i really care about you. fuck it, y/n, i can't take it anymore-

i love you..."

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a/n: dramaaaaaaa hehe, i hope you enjoyed this one 🩷 it's very plot heavy, but i hope you were able to read it all the way through without falling asleep 😭

taglist: @axartia @jjhmk @jayroseyy @ayohahaha @asaheyow @bunhoons @red-xherry @duolingofanaccount @lix-freckle3 @leeis @green-orangeade @imbaeksbae @sunghoonmybeloved @tum73er @sjakewrld @jeondolly @lalalalawon @jckeplanet @meinapricity @bubbleseo @cherryunie @bently-baby @fluffypiesstuff @teti-menchon0604 @rjsmochii @omgjwon @sunshine-skz @wy1999t @oceanyocean @nyfwyeonjun @mxshimoo @multifandombtvh @donghyckl @iloveoceaneyesss @jakeswhore @jinsfavoritedoll @brownsugarbaybee @heehee01 @mesopret @heesitation @heeverseblog @yoursjaeyun @mklhyvn @jungwon-xo @crazydelulu @kyurizeu @ineedsomezzz @graythecoffeebean

p.s. i removed lots of accs from the taglist that i have never been able to tag, so pls lmk if you don't see yourself here but you originally asked to be on the taglist! tysm!

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genshxn · 2 years

Text

✤ 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜: 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

mild(?) spoilers for 3.2 archon quest (but probably everyone knows it by now let's be honest)

written pre-3.3

author drivel. what's up, i've got covid and a head full of cotton and I'm making it your problem too, so here's some unsolicited 'fluffy' scaramouche word vomit. as such, please excuse any egregious spelling/grammar mistakes or consistency errors because lord knows i'm gonna fuck something up with my negative braincells rn.

sorry about the lack of consistency with scaramouche's name. there are so many bloody things you can call that lil piece of shit

synopsis. under kusanali's order, you're in charge of scaramouche's domestication. for now, you've fallen sick with a tenacious cold, and as part of his 'training', scaramouche has to look after you.

contents. y/n has a cold (and the shivers), scaramouche being scaramouche, slight crack, fluff, and scaramouche screaming.

w.c. 2.2k

HEY HEY YOU CAN READ PART 2 HERE

You let out a prolonged, melodramatic groan. Colds suck. You were piled under blanket after blanket, nestled in amongst a halo of pillows, banished to your quarters near the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Despite being half buried alive, you were still trying your best not to shiver. Your fever has rotated to its chills period, and nothing was helping.

You sigh. The low-lit room and radio silence weren't helping your awful feeling. Curse human fragility and its ability to fall victim to microscopic beings not even really considered "alive".

"Augh, I feel like shit..."

The door slams open. "You look like shit." In walks Scaramouche—the man of many names—with a tray of food in hand and blankets strung over his slender shoulders like an oversized, pompous collar. Same as ever, he speaks with a sharp tongue. It's not so much sarcasm aimed at you rather than it simply being the puppet's nature.

"Yeah, thanks Bowlcut." You cough back in reply.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" He huffs, gently setting down the tray on a small table next to you, contrary to his grouchy demeanour. Next, he sheds himself of the blankets, sticking them at the foot of your bed.

"As many times as I've told you to not announce your arrival with 'n insult aimed a' me." You grunt out, voice stuffy and croaky from your sinuses feeling like they're about to blow up. "Try your opening line again, Bowlcut."

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he belligerently changes his greeting. "I brought your food." He dramatically gestures to the table beside you, sarcastically showing off the dishes with the added pizzazz of some jazz hands.

"Much better." You pathetically sit up, cascades of green blankets falling off your form. The movement makes your wonky head spin slightly.

"If you don't hurry up and eat it, I'm gonna eat it myself." He pulls a chair up from behind him and sticks himself down on it, leaning back with one leg crossed on top of the other. "It smells good." He looks between you and the food expectantly.

"I'd love to be able to smell it, but unfortunately it feels like a slime's taken refuge in my sinuses right now." You shuffle over to the edge of the bed to get closer, still wrapped in a thick, fluffy blanket. You shudder at the loss of warmth. "Thanks for bringing my food, Scaramouche."

To your surprise, you're met with silence from him. Normally he has some sort of surly quip to fire back at anything you say, but not this time it seems. "...What're you gawking at?" He notices your blatant staring.

"You feeling alright? You're unusually quiet."

"I should be the one asking you that question." His half-assed sarcastic tone betrays his actual message with that line. He stares at some point on the floor in front of him, unable to meet your gaze. "I-it's— um... just..."

"Just what?" You blink, tilting your head slightly.

"Can you not call me that?" His voice is much quieter than normal. He sounds almost... defeated. A very uncharacteristic tone for someone who refuses to accept defeat (despite it being the only thing he's been faced with in recent times).

"You mean Sca—"

"Did you not hear what I just said?" He quickly cuts you off.

"Ah, sorry." You look down at the same spot on the floor for a moment. "What would you like to be called then?"

He doesn't answer, still looking downcast.

"I think I've heard you use Wanderer once. I could call you that."

"What? Don't call me that. I just said that because I couldn't think of anything to say to some rando, like... one time!" His expression is right back to his usual self: a look of confused contempt.

"What about your other name, Kunikuzushi? I could also call you a shortened version, like... Niku?"

"Do not call me that. Niku means 'meat'. Of all things, you picked out that?" He throws his arms up in response. "Kunikuzushi or whatever works, I guess... Just don't call me Scaramouche. Or Bowlcut. OR NIKU." Upon the final word, he crosses his arms over himself like a child having a tantrum. "Now eat your food or I'm gonna take the halva for myself and feed you the... other thing... myself."

"Alright, alright." You turn to look down at the food. As you've had with your past meals, there was a dessert side of Halvamazd, made specially by Nahida for you, but curiously, the main dish itself was different than the usual Sumeran cuisine. It looks like some sort of Inazuman dish that you're not sure you've ever seen before. You stare at it curiously, and he notices.

"What, do you not like it?" Kunikuzushi frowns, staring intently at your face. His voice is unexpectedly intense.

"Oh, nothing like that, I just wasn't expecting an Inazuman dinner today." You wave your hands around slightly beneath the blanket.

"I-if you wanna blame anyone, blame the Radish," he says, sitting back, crossing his arms again. "It was her idea..." He trails off suspiciously, looking off to the side.

With that reaction? "Yeah right."

"It was!" He exclaims defensively. "Gods, are you sure you're sick? You're still as annoying as ever."

"Either way, it looks really good. What is it?"

At your words, Kunikuzushi calms down with a sigh. "It's my take on chazuke. Rice with some tea poured on top, plus some toppings. I made it, so of course it's going to be delicious." He declares confidently, puffing his flat chest.

"You made it for me?"

He stops in his tracks, lavender eyes going wide once he realizes he just blew his nonexistent cover. He sputters out some unintelligible nonsense before ultimately slumping down and crossing his arms grumpily for the third time. "Yes. Yes, I did. There, are you happy? I made it for you and it was my idea."

"Thank you very much, Ku. It looks delicious." You smile warmly at him. He looks at you with wide eyes, expression almost unreadable. His mouth parts, maybe to say something in response, but nothing comes out.

You unsheathe your hands from the blanket and begin to eat the dish. While your senses of smell and taste have been dampened by the cold, you can still taste the softly bitter and sweet flavours of the dish dancing over your tongue. It's the perfect temperature, to boot. Hot, but still cool enough to not burn your already shredded throat. Because your appetite isn't quite what it normally is, the light dish hits just right. The whole time, Kunikuzushi carefully—almost nervously—watches you wolf down the dish.

Once you finish it, you place the bowl and utensils back on the tray. "That was so good. Exactly what I needed." You wrap the blanket back around yourself, pulling it tighter to try and preserve your limited warmth. "You'll have to make it for me again when I'm better so I can really appreciate the taste."

"...Sure." He says shortly. His response isn't curt like normal, but just... awkward. You sit there awkwardly as well, trying to gather up all your layers of blankets again to reassemble your blanket cocoon. You're putting in a bit too much effort to try and not shiver. Kunikuzushi watches you for a minute, and then wordlessly moves to pick up the extra blankets he brought from the end of the bed.

"Oh, than—" Instead of simply handing them to you like you thought he would, he layers you in them, wrapping them around you himself. He kneels on the bed, torso close to your head. As he piles on blanket after blanket, his hands brush all over your shoulders. He's so close that you can feel a faint warmth radiating off him. An idea cha cha slides into your head.

"You look all... not even pathetic, just sad when you're sick and cold."

You've been around the grumpy puppet long enough to know that what he's really saying is that he doesn't like seeing you look miserable. Once you're suitably wrapped, he places one final blanket on top, draping it over the top of your head like a hooded cloak or veil. He takes a step back to examine his blanket-wrapping handiwork. Suitably happy with it, he decides to return back to his chair. But before he can get too far, you manage to grab his slender wrist, earning a shocked sputter from him.

"The blankets aren't enough. I'm still cold."

"What?! What else could you possibly need to—"

"You can't get sick, right?"

"No, not from colds or viruses or whatever, hence why I'm he—wait, what're yo—" Kunikuzushi squints at you suspiciously, aware of sinister things lingering in the air.

"You're warm. Be my heater for a bit."

"H-has your fever turned you delusional?!"

"Probably." You try to suppress a shiver unsuccessfully. "But c'mon, you said that you wouldn't get sick. Please?" You look at him expectantly,

Kunikuzushi looks at you with all sorts of conflicting feelings flitting across his twitching, reddening face, bubbling up until he finally concedes with a massive sigh. "F-fine." He puffs, eyes completely avoiding your gaze. He's too embarrassed to look anywhere near you. "At least let me do something first..." He sits on the edge of the bed and sheds his loose-sitting kimono and robes, leaving them folded neatly on the edge. Now he's in just that semi-transparent undershirt and regular shorts.

You stare at him with slightly raised eyebrows.

"What? I don't wanna overheat." He frowns, turning away from your gaze slightly. "If you're really going to... c-cling to me or whatever, lose at least two of the blankets."

"But 'm cold."

"That's your brain gaslighting you into thinking you're cold. Your 'shivers' will dissipate once I'm under there with you. If you overheat, your brain will become even more fried, and then you'll be completely useless."

Now it's your turn to let out a massive sigh with a reluctant "Fiiiiine." The outer two layers of your blanket cocoon come off, discarded to the floor next to you. You shuffle back to your original position, lying under the covers, wrapped in blankets. Kunikuzushi shuffles up next to you, hesitates for a second and then pulls the new outer blanket up a little to sit it just on top of your head. That was the second time he did that.

"What's the point of that?"

"What?"

"Move the blanket on top of my head?"

"...Um. I... do it sometimes. I like the feeling of it. I don't know, I thought you might—"

Instead, you cut him off by reaching out and putting part of the blanket on top of his head as well. He immediately goes quiet with wide eyes.

"Come on heater, get under the blankets. You talk a lot."

He makes a miffed grunt and shuffles under the covers, finding his way through all the blankets until he was right against you. You rotate your body to face him for optimal surface area coverage and close your eyes with a content exhale.

The two of you remain like this for a while, you lying next to the slightly stiff but warm Kunikuzushi. He doesn't move much and is completely silent aside from the very faint sound of his gentle breath. (does he breathe? idk lol) He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he seems to loosen up a little. You smile faintly at the thought, but it's quickly wiped from your face and replaced with a confused frown because he turns to face you and places his chin on top of your head. You can feel his soft breath on top of your head. Your eyes are as wide as saucers, staring right at the view in front of you—his neck. But oh, he's not done. Next, he pulls you slightly closer to him and then takes your hand in his own and gently laces your fingers with his. Your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

Next, he begins to mutter to himself. There's absolutely no way he's asleep—he must think you're asleep.

"Damnit... Fuck you, (Y/N)..."

You have to try SO hard to remain silent and not get offended and hit him with 'Bowlcut', but the dizzying polarity between his actions and his words is enough to keep you silent for now.

"Making me feel all this shit... Not even the Radish really knows what these feelings are."

You blink, eyes wide. You feel a cough coming on. This is not good. Your cover's gonna be blown.

"You're gonna be the end of me. Toying with my already shattered heart like I'm your plaything... Your smile, now calling me Ku... all these promises and things you do... I want to hate you, but I can't."

You can't hold it in anymore. You quickly push off his chest and jerk your head in the opposite direction so you don't have a coughing fit right on his chest. When you finally finish and turn back around, you're faced with a red-faced Kunikuzushi, looking absolutely mortified.

"YOU WERE AWAKE THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME?!"

You bit your lips together awkwardly.

"AND YOU HEARD IT ALL?!"

You cough again. "Yep."

Instead of having a response that could somehow qualify as normal, his stare simply goes blank for a second until he proceeds to konk out, eyes closing and head flopping down onto the pillow.

He short-circuited.

#fr idk what the fuck this is lmfao #i just word vomited like i do with 90% of the shit i write #scaramouche x reader #genshin #genshin impact #scaramouche fluff #genshin x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #genshin fluff

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

Text

cutting it close | the mandalorian

mando x fem!reader

word count: 11.4k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (oral f receiving, mxf intercourse) swearing, canon typical violence, din clubbing deserves its own warning guys.

a/n: a labour of true love. i wrote half of this so long ago, but was inspired by an incredible source to continue.we are really living up the the user name in this one bc WE ARE GRIPPING BESKAR FOR REAL. shoutout to @everybirdfellsilent for being the BEST person to bounce ideas off, catching all of my grammar errors (there were many) and helping me figure out how someone whispers in a helmet. you are a real one and i love you!!!!! okay enjoy goodbye.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you sure he’s in there?” You ask the Mandalorian, who even through his helmet looks as uncomfortable as you are. He just holds up the tracking fob and it beeps rapidly, hardly making a sound over the thumping of the bass in the club in front of you.

“Guess so.” He yells over the sound. If you can barely hear him out here, you don't even want to imagine what it's like inside. The sound vibrates through the concrete and you can hear the high pitched sound of girls singing somewhere in the back, blue and red lights flicking out underneath the door you both stand in front of.

“I’ll go. You can wait out here. Your shiny head’s gonna reflect the light too much and give me a headache.” You go to take the tracker from him but he yanks it away. Rolling your eyes, he just leans and opens the door for you, and there's no point in arguing as you walk inside, the music instantly flooding your senses.

You have been helping Mando track down a couple of syndicate members while he was out on Corellia, promising to share the credits and take you off the planet if you showed him where they might be hiding. You have no loyalties here, and if you could get a free ride while also making those assholes pay for all the people they’ve fucked over, then you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t enjoy it.

The thump of the bass is annoying, only because you aren’t drunk. Usually you love this shit, and the packed dance floor stuffed with swaying bodies gives you a little bit of a rush as you remember all the good nights you’ve had here. Drinking till the sun comes up, meeting strangers and making them your best friends for a night, taking some lucky guy home with you only to kick him out the next morning, bored and hungover. It makes you smile to think about how your life used to be, free of responsibility, but as the Mandalorian comes up next to you, you are reminded of why you’re here.

“Where should we look?” He yells, and you pull him down by his shoulder so he can repeat it. He stiffens under your touch, but over the past couple days he’s started to get used to you putting your hands on him, you think. You think he’s probably been alone for most of his missions, so being around someone as outgoing as you; it’s probably a lot to take in

The Mandalorian has not, will not ever get used to the way you touch him. The first time you reached out for him, pulling his arm in the direction of some abandoned house, he nearly dropped to his knees at the way your fingers curled around his armor. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your hand on him, how your skin looked against the silver beskar, how your eyes bore holes in his helmet, like you could see him through all of it. He would never admit how he went back to the ship and jacked off like he never had before, only thinking about your hand gripping him, tighter and tighter. You wave your hand in front of his face, and he has to look around to get his bearings.

“Hey! I said through here. Come.” Your hand takes his, and he lets you lead him through the crowd. Once his brain swims back into his own head, he tightens his hand on yours, coming closer behind you as you shove your way through. It gets easier as you go further, people starting to move in the presence of his giant frame.

He doesn’t notice that, he doesn’t even notice where you're leading him, all thoughts and two eyes on your hand, gripping his, and he doesn’t think he will be able to get the image out of his head.

Threading through the last of the crowd, you have to knock a few people out of the entrance to the back, a couple making out looking up and giggling as they watch you lead a giant Mandalorian into the red rooms. The soft material of the curtain sends shivers up your arm as you pass through it, and you hear Mando behind you swatting at it, and the rip of material as some of it gets caught on his armor.

“Hey darlin’. Come back for more?” You hear a familiar voice and you roll your eyes at the sound of it. Shaun was an old friend, although friend was a very loose term. You hooked up once, extremely drunk, kissing in this very room for about three seconds before his girlfriend at the time came in and smacked the shit out of him.

“More of watching you get your ass beat by a girl?” He physically winces, and being the complete push over that he is, when he sees The Mandalorian trail behind you, he swallows hard and backs up a bit. “We need to go downstairs. My friend wants to pay a visit.”

“Come on. You kn-know I can’t.” Stepping forward, you hear the click of a blaster from behind you, and The Mandalorian takes perfect aim.

“You can. You will, too. Or he will make you.” You motion your head over your shoulder, and you can see the way he’s standing without turning your head, one leg slightly bent, casually waiting to shoot.

“They’ll kill me if I do.” He whispers and looks at the floor. You kick the cheap carpet out of the way and see a tiny sliver of light, a shadow crossing over it. The fob beeps from behind you, faster than before.

“I’ll kill you if you don’t.” Mando moved closer behind you, you could only tell because his voice got louder and you could see a little glint of beskar in the corner of your eye. You just put your hand out, and the key to the tiny lock on the trap door falls into your hand, Shaun stepping back. As soon as the lock clicks he bolts.

Coward.

Not like he’ll have anything to worry about once Mando goes down. You flip up the trap door as quietly as possible, and go to take the first step when a gloved hand falls on your shoulder.

“Stay up here. Keep watch.” He goes down first, and before you lose his head down the door you whisper to him.

“Be safe, okay?”

He freezes.

He can fight twenty guys at once, unarmed, and not even think about it, but the worried look in your eyes and your hand gently running across the side of his helmet makes every muscle in his body freeze. He manages a nod and you smile, closing the door over his head, and he lets out a very long sigh, trying to contain himself. He needs to focus, and the only way he can seem to do that is if he isn’t near you, so when your face disappears from view, he slips back into the zone.

He drops and finally hits solid ground, blaster fire immediately following. He hears the door above him swing open, seeing your hair whizz past his vision as you fold yourself into the tiny gap behind the stairs, shuffling along to get a vantage point above him. While watching you one of the men throws a punch against his armor. He wouldn’t have even felt it if he wasn’t looking, and it pissed him off so much that he just picks up the guy and smashes him down into the table, breaking it in two.

Watching the Mandalorian in his element, he moves easily through the men, hardly having to look when he fires a blaster or throws a punch. You shoot a couple heading out the back, not entirely sure which one he is after, but they deserved it anyways. These guys were notorious spice runners, but it wasn’t the drugs that made them bad, it was them selling it to young kids, telling them if they sell it all they will make them rich, and then forcing them to work out the debt when they inevitably don't come through. It was a fucked up system, one that you had been trying to take down for the past couple months, but having a giant beskar bounty hunter on your team was doing things now that would have taken you years alone.

Bodies start to pile up and pretty soon you notice the Mandalorian running out of guys to kill, so you shimmy back through the ladder and drop down. By the time you reach him, he’s cracking the skull of the last guy on the wall, his body sliding down leaving green blood in a trail. The tracking fob still beeps in the quiet of the room. You reach into the Mandalorians belt and pull it out, wandering around the room trying to get a better signal.

The Mandalorian can’t move. You didn’t even think twice, just shoved your hands in his belt, so dang close to where he’s pictured ever since he saw you. You’ve ignited something in him that he thought went dormant when he took the helm, but you; your hands, your confidence - he can’t hide the reaction you cause.

You try not to make a big deal out of it, try not to smile, to acknowledge the way he froze up under you. It's not possible, you and him. Even though you have thought about it many, many times. You don't even know how it would work; would he keep his armor on? Take those gloves off, the ones that sometimes slip up his hand and you see a sliver of tanned, real skin that sends your stomach crazy, and would he put his hands on you? You drag your eyes back to the fob in your hand, and when you lift it above your head it beeps wildly.

“How did he get past us?” You shake your head, because there’s no way he did. You were behind the stairs, and no one passed through the Mandalorians' brutal assault.

“Maybe he was never down here. I don’t know what he looks like. Guy’s a ghost.” The modulator thinks out loud, and you both look up at each other in realization, and a bit of shock on your part.

“There is no way.” It makes you laugh, because it's that unbelievable. “Shaun is a pussy. No way he could pull that off. He is not the guy we’re after. No. No way.”

“Where does that door lead to?” He’s referring to the door Shaun went out of, but you just turn and start up the ladder, still in some weird state of half shock and half amazement.

“Shaun. Fucking Shaun! You know this guy burnt his own eyebrows off because he was holding a blowtorch the wrong way?” The Mandalorian says nothing, but you just can’t believe it.

Shaun - the guy who cried when you told him he probably wasn’t going to be a Jedi was helping these syndicate guys run a child spice ring. You cannot believe this shit.

You ram the door Shaun fled into, and the pumping music instantly hits your chest, a hard bass line beating through the floor. You can feel the armor looming behind you, your ears tuning into the way Mando breathes even over the volume. Both of you take in the sight in front of you, the club is somehow ten times more busy, hardly giving you room to move. You scan the wave of people, darkness covering them and hands and bodies swaying way too fast to even see a face.

“I see him.” He says, and you look up to him. His arm comes over your shoulder, armor brushing lightly over the bare skin there. His hand is easy to follow, your focus deadly on the way his chest touches your back when he breathes in. Squinting, you see the unmistakable red hair bobbing through the crowd. “Can't get a clear shot. We need to move closer.”

“Follow me.” You pull him towards the crowd, but he doesn’t move.

“We’ll go around.” You look, both to your left and right, and see no way around, bodies just as thick to the walls as they are in the middle, and Shaun is moving further into the crowd.

“It’s too slow.” You pull him again to no avail.

“I’m not going in there.” He pulls you back to him, and your hand presses against his chest. You swear you can feel his heart beating under the thick layer of armor.

The Mandalorian has never felt so out of his element. The heat signatures of all the people around him are blown out in his helmet, the loud music blaring his senses, but that isn’t what's making him nervous. It's you, your hand on his chest, eyes wide and searching. He feels your look in his bones, like you're staring right at him, the real him. He swallows, and knows you can read him like a book.

“It's gonna be fine. You’re big and scary, they’ll move.” He doesn’t do anything, just stares at your mouth as you talk. “Are you like, claustrophobic?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“Not big on crowds.” You tilt your head up at him, and he knows you picked that up from him. You mirror him, the way he scans the room, the way you change your stance when you look at him, keeping one hand on your blaster whenever you're outnumbered. It makes his heart beat faster to think you notice him like that, and the blood rushes to every part of him that he needs to keep tame. Your eyes flick down quickly then back up to him.

“Hey, come on! I’ll hold your hand the whole time.” You can almost see him roll his eyes in that giant helmet.

“Not helping.” His head swivels towards Shaun who is moving fast through the crowd, his small frame allowing him to slide through easier.

“We’re gonna lose him, Mando.” You sigh. You aren’t forcing him, not pulling his arm and dragging him through the crowd, even though the guy you have been hunting for what feels like forever is escaping as you stand there.

“Fine.” The Mandalorian goes to step forward into the crowd, but hesitates. It’s something you’ve only seen him do a handful of times, and usually it means something bad - no, horrible and unexpected is about to happen, because if he hasn’t planned for something, you have no way in Hell to be ready for it- “It’s Din.”

It’s so quiet, if you weren’t so in tuned with his voice you would have missed it.

“What?” Eyes wide, you tilt your head all the way up, making an effort to stare exactly where his eyes might be.

“My name. It’s Din.” You swallow, all the words in your brain suddenly vanishing to make room for the most important one. “You’ve been around long enough. You should know it.”

Din.

Diiiiiiiin.

You go to speak, say something in reply, although you aren’t sure what words would equal the meaning of his confession. Maybe he really was claustrophobic, and you saying his name was some last ditch effort to focus elsewhere. You don’t get a chance to ask him though, it’s as if he senses you're about to speak and slips past you, entering the crowd, but not before your hand slips into his, fingers lacing in between his gloved ones.

He’s thankful for your guiding arm as all his years of training seem to vanish when you touch him for the fourth time tonight.

You weave through the bodies as best you can, trying to track Shaun’s head. The club is huge and there's people everywhere, music pounding and flashing lights only illuminating the tops of peoples bouncing heads. You can feel the gloved hand squeeze yours and you stop, the minuscule proof of reciprocation halting your movements. You can feel him step once more to come right up behind you, his helmet so close you can hear the modulator imitating his breath.

“He stopped. We’re being watched.” Your hands stay linked as you look around. The both of you were practically dead center in the crowd, and you can make out Shaun’s tiny head somewhere to your right, surrounded by significantly bigger guards. Shit. You go to move toward him, but the Mandalorian - Din - Din’s free hand grabs your hip and pulls you back, the movement catching you so surprised that you slam into him. “Guards are armed.”

“They’re gonna shoot the place up if we don't lose them.” All the guards surrounding Shaun have their hands on their blasters, and the more you look the more guards you notice.

“You know this place better. What’s our play?” He was still pressed up against you, and his hand was still on your hip. You could feel the vibration of the speaker's bass through your feet, and you tried to think of a way to lose the guards. They weren’t looking straight at you, more just in the general direction of the crowd. You were sure they knew Shaun was being chased, but with the dark lights of the club, they wouldn’t be able to make out faces. Or helmets, hopefully.

“Dance with me.”

Thank the Maker for the visor, because Din's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He was having a hard enough time concentrating on anything except the way you were so close to him, and how he was pretty sure his glove was touching a tiny part of your skin, so when you suggested moving of any kind, his first reaction was to deny, if only for his own self preservation.

“No.”

“Come on. I’m not asking you to bend me over; just, I don't know, move a little. We can get closer and lose them in the crowd. Before you know it we will be out the door with Shaun, and the guards won't even know we were there.” You were twisting slightly in his hold so you could speak in his ear, and he found himself sliding his hand further across your waist.

“Okay.” You nod up at him but don’t move for a second, waiting for him to relax. “Lead the way.”

You felt so warm. Maybe it was the nightclub, or maybe it was him. Probably him, the way you begin to sway your hips just a fraction to either side had him grinding his teeth to focus on literally anything else. You let your head come back a little to rest on his chest and your other hand was still locked with his own. He tried to think about the fifty armed guards that were going to shoot everyone in here if this plan didn’t work, but no amount of danger, no risk would pull his mind away from how your free hand came up behind his neck, and how his hand had found your opposite hip, his forearm strong and tight against your stomach.

You were more focused than you had been this entire time. Not on Shaun, or the guards, or moving towards the exit, but on grinding your hips just right so you could feel some part of Din underneath the armor. A name to the person you knew hid beneath. You pulled out your best moves, remembering every night you spent in this club before tonight. It’s like every guy was just a practice run, because none of them felt as good, as strong or as fucking big behind you as The Mandalorian. His arm was pulling you against his chest, and the way his fingers twitched every time your ass found his groin; that was all the encouragement you needed.

“You can move. I don’t mind.” You lean up to look at him before flicking your hair to the other side of your shoulder. He was stiff as a board behind you, and you presumed he didn’t do a lot of clubbing in his line of work, but if this was going to work he needed to at least pretend.

“I- I’m not sure I know how.” You smile up at him. You don’t laugh, although he thinks anyone else would, but instead your hand unwinds from his own and comes on top of the one across your stomach.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” Your eyelashes flutter up at him, and the lights flashing across your face did nothing to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks.

The music, however, covered the slight groan Din made when you said those words. His head dropped, wanting to hide his face even though you couldn’t see it.

Maker, does that work for him.

He copies you, moving in time with your hips, and every time you change direction he has to grip you tighter to make sure you don't stop. Keeping your arm over his you take a step to the right towards the target.

“This is okay?” His voice sounds deeper than usual, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“Good. It’s good.” Maker, he was going to lose his shit. All those nights he had imagined you, imagined what you might feel like against him, around him, none of that would have prepared him for the real thing. You were moving like water against him, fluid and free as you bent your knees a little, sliding down only an inch before coming back up and taking another step to the right. He sees a guard to his left, and moves before he can think, protecting you becoming a sixth sense.

He spins, switching sides with you, and as he does so his hold comes around to your back. You were now face to face, his arm still holding you just as tight against his front, and your arm was hung around his neck, pulling him down closer to your face.

“Guard moved.” He justifies, and you can’t help but smile.

“Who knew The Mandalorian had moves?” He laughs a little and you can feel him relax, the arm around your back finding a more comfortable position to rest just above your ass. “Did they teach you ballet on Mandalore, too?”

“Very funny. I told you I don’t know what I’m doing.” You roll your eyes and both of you take another step towards Shaun, dancing bodies pressing you both closer together.

“You’re doing fine.” Fine was an understatement. For someone who claims they don’t dance, he matches every one of your moves perfectly, and it even starts to feel good; better than it ever did with any of those slimy dudes you danced with before.

“Yeah?” He breathes, dropping his head next to yours to scan the crowd behind you. You lose all power for a second, only being able to focus on how he was holding you and whispering as best he could in your ear.

“Mhmm. Very fine.” He laughs against you again, and leads you another step into the crowd.

Din was putting everything he had into not losing all composure right here. The fact that he could see your heat signature through his helmet wasn’t helping. He knew what yours usually looked like, he had spent enough time staring at you to picture it, so when he dropped his eyes and could see your stomach and chest burning red ever since he pulled you against him, his hold on himself became looser and looser.

“How are we doing?” You have to constantly blink to remind yourself why you are both here. He moves his hips against you and you shiver, the feeling of him moving against you too good to hide.

“Still too far.” Your back was to the target, so he had to keep an eye on him. He didn’t want to, didn’t give a shit about the target or the money or the beeping tracking fob. All he wanted was to stay here, with you dancing on him. Your forehead drops to rest on his chest. The music starts to pick up and so does your hips, naturally swaying to the beat.

“S-slow down.” Din stutters. Actually stutters. His voice is slow and crackly when he whispers in your ear. “Can’t think.”

“Why’s that?” The energy of the club disappears, and it's just you and him, occasional blue and red flashes lighting up his helmet.

“We have to focus.” You keep dancing, not wanting this moment to end. He feels so good against you, the cool armor against your hot skin electrifying every movement.

“Worried you can’t handle it, big guy?” You smirk up at him and pull his helmet closer, linking your arms around the back of his neck.

He’s slipping. Too far gone; with your hands around his neck and your hips swaying like that, right against him, there’s no looking back now.

“I can handle it.” You swallow hard at his voice that is now full of confidence, the one he uses when he talks to a target.

“Guess we’ll find out.” His arm at the back of you tightens, and you both realize at the same time what line you are crossing. There's no doubt that either of you haven’t thought about it, it’s all he has thought about since he met you, but it was all too confusing, too much all of a sudden. He has no idea how to handle you, handle whatever it is that you made him feel, but with you in the dark atmosphere of this club and the way you were moving, he can think of nothing else.

Both moving with the music, you start to dance less and grind more, finding a better pace to feel more of him against you. Both of his hands are on you now, one drawing explorative lines up your side while the other holds you to him.

“Guards are coming through the crowd.” His tone becomes a little more serious as the danger suddenly becomes unavoidable. You sneak a quick glance, and you can see them all, pushing people out of the way clearly looking for someone in particular, the shiny head of his helmet practically a beacon. It was so dark you couldn’t make out their faces, let alone Shaun’s or even Din who stared right at you, the guards only obvious because they were the only ones not dancing.

“You need to blend in. Or hide.” You whisper, still trying to act natural and ignore the slight hardness you can feel under your movements. “They’re going to kill everyone in here if they start shooting.”

The club was packed, and syndicate members aren’t exactly known for their conflict resolution, so both of you had no doubt they would shoot their way through innocent people just to minimize risk.

The Mandalorian had two options. He either let everyone in here take the risk of getting shot in the inevitable bloodbath that was going to happen when the guards got close enough to see him, which they only would be able to do because of how reflective his armor was.

Or, he could lean into the very bad second option which had a lot less risk for everyone else, but risked everything he had built for the last 20 years.

Even in the helmet he could only see your face, the darkness blurred everyone around him except how your pretty eyes were staring up at him, letting your hair fall over your shoulders. He couldn’t help but think how soft it would feel in his fingers. He could see your mouth, and how you held your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes glancing around trying to gage how much time you have before he gets you both killed.

“We need to move. They’re going to kill them.” You say, and it’s only because you finally stopped your torturous movement that he can think clearly for a second, or maybe not so clearly considering what he was about to do.

“I have an idea.” Comes through the modulator, and you're half surprised he’s still in there considering how quiet he’s been.

“Cutting it a bit close.”

“Do you trust me?” A gloved hand comes up to your cheek and your eyes fall on him. The glint of the beskar catches the eye of a guard and you can see them coming your way to investigate, caving you in to him at all angles. You lean up on your toes, getting as close to him as possible to make sure no one can hear your answer.

“I trust you, Din.”

“Good.” The hiss of an armor seal, the sound of something hitting the floor and a flash of brown curls under blue light are the last things you remember before his lips found yours.

They were soft. Surprisingly soft. He moved slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do now that he had found you. There was something so intimate about how slowly he kissed you, nothing but his lips moving against yours, only taking what you give him. You were caught so off guard you aren’t sure you moved in the first few seconds, but as soon as the realization of what was happening washed over you, you gave him everything you had.

One of your hands found his hair, slightly damp from sweat and the other pulled at his neck as if he could get any closer to you. You deepened the kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth to show him just how okay you are with this, and he responds immediately. All of a sudden what was once a distraction kiss becomes something much more wild, more desperate and much more fitting for the feelings you both have for each other. For a second, you break apart, and its enough for you to utter the only word, the only name you will ever think of again. “Din.” You kiss the name onto his lips before he takes over again, the two of you practically becoming one.

He thinks he’s died and gone straight to hell, hearing you whisper his name. His real name. It’s unlike anything he’s experienced before. You taste sweet, like sugar, and your mouth moves on his like it’s never done anything else. He pulls you tighter, grabs at your hip while the other holds your face to his, using it to obscure himself to everyone but you. He is very aware of how wrong this is, but your teeth bite his bottom lip ever so slightly before sliding your tongue back in his mouth and he suddenly doesn’t care. He is hidden from everyone in the club by the darkness and fog, most of them too drunk or too absorbed in their own lives to notice him, which is exactly what the guards have blended you both in with as they begin to fan out around you. Just another couple kissing in the sea of dancing bodies.

He knows the guards pass as soon as he hears the clicks of blasters in holsters behind him. The threat is eliminated, passed, so why hasn’t he put his helmet back on? Why hasn’t he ripped his mouth away from you?

Every second you kiss him back makes it harder for him to think logically, and when you moan into his hard grip on your back and arch into him he doesn’t think he will ever be able to stop.

You feel the guard brush past you, but Din is kissing you so hard, so fervently that you don’t think you could deny him anything if he asked you right now, so you make no move to pull away, to slow down.

“Fuck.” His voice is just as low out of the modulator, and you feel your legs go weak at the sound of it. You made him say that, you affected him. Just like he affects you. You can feel his skin, a slight stubble around his cheeks, his hair longer than you would have thought, and it’s curly in your hands which for some reason makes him ten times hotter. You want more than anything to pull away and stare at him, take in the image of him, knowing no one will see it but you. But you don’t, and you just let him kiss you until neither of you can breathe, and then a little longer.

When he pulls away you expect him to cover up fast, and you keep your eyes closed not wanting to betray his trust in a futile moment. However, he just rests his forehead against yours, and you can feel the slightly clammy skin of his face against yours. You are both panting for air in the small space between you, and he breaks the silence first.

“They’re gone. Shaun too.” You mentally curse, but you're having trouble being upset at all at this moment, the overwhelming feeling of him is still flooded throughout your body, leaving no room for anything or anyone else.

“That was…”

“A good distraction?” His breath is warm on your face and you are so scared to move because then you won’t be able to kiss him again.

“I was going to say ‘fucking amazing’ but yeah, that too.” He laughs for just you, and you don’t think you will ever get tired of hearing that.

“Now who can’t handle it?” You laugh as he teases you, and nearly roll your eyes until you remember you can’t open them. You put your hand over your face. “What are you doing?”

“In case I see. When you put the…” your foot nudges the beskar helmet on the ground and you feel him nod against you.

“Right.” He forgot everything, forgot the creed he committed his entire life to, and that was only a fucking kiss. He leant down and picked up the helmet, shoving it back on.

It was the first time he resented having to wear it.

Your eyes open and find the black visor staring back at you. You smile up at him and start to sway your hips, placing your hands on his side and resting your face in the crook of his neck.

“Can we pretend a little longer?” You mumble into his shirt at his neck, and he stiffens slightly. You feel a hand adjust his pants before it finds the back of your head.

“I wasn’t pretending.”

“Me either.” The lights start to slow around you, blue and red no longer coming in flashes but waves, and you look up at him.

“Come with me.” He says it half as a question, half a command and his hand intertwines with yours again.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere.” You laugh and lean back, leading him towards the exit before you turn around and start squeezing through bodies. He follows close behind, keeping watch for any remaining guards or any ideas for where Shaun might have gotten to. Soon the cool night winds it’s way over your skin and you shiver, the Mandalorian coming right up behind you and guiding you away.

“I didn’t see where he went. Do you have anything?” You look up but he’s not focused on searching, his eyes are set in one direction.

“Track him tomorrow.”

“But what abo-“

“Do you know how many nights I’ve waited to touch you?” Your eyes widen, and you have no words. He’s stopped walking in the middle of the street, but it’s late and dark so no one else is around to witness. You shake your head. “Any idea how many nights I thought about you? Dreamt of you?” Again, you shake your head.

“What did I do? In your dreams?” You breathe, the foggy night steaming a cloud over his helmet as he leans in close.

“I’m going to show you. If you let me.” He tugs on your hand, gentle enough to let you pull away, but you grab his wrist tight and make sure the hold doesn’t break.

“Show me.” He’s too focused on getting where he wants to go that he doesn’t stop immediately. “Din. Please.” He pulls you against him and starts walking a little slower.

“You said that; in my dream.”

“What? Show me?” He shakes his head.

“Please.”

“I say that all the time. I have great manners.”

“Not the way I’m thinking, cyar’ika.” Your heart flutters at the name, and the way he says it, how it vibrates through his chest and reaches into your own. You round a corner and his ship comes into view.

“Guess you’ll have to demonstrate.” The hand on your lower back drops and rests on your ass, giving it a little squeeze that makes you jump into him.

“I plan on it.” Your breath catches in your throat and suddenly you're moving at an almost inhuman pace, jogging to try and keep up with his giant steps. You can hear the passing voices of people heading home for the night, and you wonder where you would have ended up had you not lost Shaun tonight.

Realistically, if you had told your past self you would leave without the bounty tonight, she probably would have slapped you. Right now, though, as the Razor Crest comes into view, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect ending.

Or a more anticipated one. He moves like a predator - fast, swift and with purpose, having the ramp of the Crest already opening by the time you round the corner, hand still entangled tightly with his own.

You were high on adrenaline, the events of just minutes ago still fogging your brain, but your concentration had nowhere else to be but right here, as the soft lights of Corellia disappeared behind the closing ramp. You let out a shuddering breath as Din steps toward you. You can hardly see him, going off your other senses to gauge exactly where he is.

You can smell him. You feel strange, inhaling deeply in the almost pitch black of the hull, but you think it might be your favorite smell. It reminds you of safety, a little hint of vanilla mixed with cedar wood, a result of the single, half empty bottle of all-in-one soap you once glimpsed in the corner of his refresher. You don’t hear him step behind you, but the smallest hint of air brushes over your shoulder, and the scent overwhelms you.

You turn around, exceedingly eager. Your chest practically slams into him, and it’s only when you settle your hands on his ribcage you hear how fast you were breathing.

“Relax. It’s just me.” You let out a soft laugh, trying to hide your nerves.

“That’s kind of the problem.” You say and instantly feel him move back.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” You want to slam your head against the wall. Of course he would be sweet, and kind, exactly the kind of guy you always want but never find yourself going for. Willing some of that confidence from the club to miraculously appear, you blindly reach out, playing to pull him back to you, and yank the first part of armor you find.

You wouldn’t call it a squeak, exactly. You don’t think that it would be possible for Din to emit a sound like that, but something breathy and surprising cracks the silence in the ship as you pull him forward. Your hand had slipped right over the ridge of his breastplate, finding the one weak spot on his armor even in the dark. You could feel him swallow against the back of your knuckles.

“I want…” Two hands rest lightly on your body. One is on your hip, his thumb running small lines up and over the curve of it, and the other rests on your cheek. His skin - exposed, and against yours, is rough as his fingers begin to thread into your hair. The heel of his palm takes up most of your cheek, and a wave of warmth rushes through every part he touches.

“What do you want, cyar’ika?” Even though it’s pitch black, your eyes flutter shut at the beautiful jumble of words. You recognise the language, only because you’ve heard Din say a few words here and there during hunts, but mainly only the swear words. Now, the language sounds like a dream, and it doesn’t really matter what it means, only that he’s saying it to you, and it almost sounds like a compliment.

“I want you, Din.” You feel the hand in your hair tighten slightly, flex and thread further towards the back of your head. The hand on your hip leaves only for a second, and in the next moment a loud clang on the ground has you almost jumping into Din’s arms.

“Sorry.” He laughs, and your heart stops. His voice is perfectly clear. Handsome. Can a voice be handsome? You keep your eyes closed, afraid to break the spell of whatever magic must be enchanting you right now. “Come here.”

You don’t get a chance to fully appreciate the sound of him, without his helmet for the second time tonight, but when his lips gently press against yours, you get lost in him. You’ll have him talking soon enough. Emboldened by how tentative he moves against you, your hands slip out from underneath his breastplate and into his hair. Your eyes squeeze shut tighter at the feeling, and your fingers get tangled in the slightly damp mess of curls. It was longer than you imagined, and soft. So, so soft. Maybe that all-in-one soap needed a little more credit.

When you use the new hold you have on him to pull him closer, he groans into your mouth. The sound has you sighing in content, and you drag your fingertips over his scalp, massaging the sound out of him again. The hand on your hip slides up to your lower back, holding you against him, tight. Everything comes rushing back, the music that was flowing around you minutes ago, the energy of the club, the way Din was letting himself feel you without hesitation. You move against him, and his hands drop from your face to just under your ass, and in one go he has you up in his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his back.

He takes a single step and makes the distance from the center of the hull, pushing you up against the wall. The cold metal is hard against your back, but so is the unyielding hold of his armor on your front, and it immobilizes you in the best way. His hands, unrestrained by the gloves he usually wears, begin to massage just under your ass, fingers spreading out along the fabric covered skin. His teeth lightly graze on your bottom lip, and the movement has you gasping and chasing his mouth when he pulls back.

“So many people in that damn club.” He grumbles, blessing you with another light kiss before dragging the soft skin of his lips down to your jawline. His tongue darts out only slightly, tasting you. Some small part of your brain that is still able to process words reminds you of how reluctant he was when you all but forced him into the crowd.

“I didn’t mean t-to make you go in - fuck, Din.” He finds a spot just under your ear, biting and kissing while you attempt to form a sentence.

“Not what I mean.” His curls tickle the underside of your chin as he dips his head, kissing the front of your throat. Something about it feels like surrender, and you are more than happy to give in to it. “Wanted you all to myself.”

“You could of fucking had me months ago.” It comes out a little more aggressive than you planned, but it’s painfully true. All it would have taken was one word from him, and you would have given him whatever he wanted. It pissed you off to think of all the wasted time, especially when it might be coming to an end once you tracked down the final bounty. Your words make him stutter, his hair brushing your cheek before his forehead rests on your own.

“Really?” You can hear his smile through his words, and it makes your heartbeat a little faster just imagining it.

“Best bounty hunter in the galaxy, but can’t pick up a single hint, huh?” You slide your arms around his neck, one hand pulling him back to your mouth. He lets you lead, melting into your touch as your hand starts to massage the thick muscles at the base of his neck. He moans, and you can feel the effect of the small sound under your clothes, so you track it down again, repeating the motion. He was still wearing his full armor except the gloves and helmet, so you did your best to relax his neck and shoulders the best you could reach. He rewards the movement with those same sweet sounds, taking your full weight by holding you in his forearms.

“Maker, you- you feel so fucking good.” You start to roll your hips against him, and from this angle you can feel him, hard and big under that damn armor.

“Feels better without my clothes on.” You arch your neck to whisper in his ear, leaving soft kisses along his cheek before returning to his lips.

His restraint doesn’t last long, not that he really had much. He was planning to take this slow - for you as much as for himself. He knew you hadn’t gone out like you used to since you met him; bounty hunting tended to involve a whole lot of late nights and early mornings. Of course, he was glad you weren’t taking any men into your bed while he was around, but he knew it was something you were… experienced at. It had been a while for him, so when he knew the feelings he was having weren’t just physical, he was really shooting in the dark for a chance with you at the best of times.

Now it was here, he was going to make it good.

So good that you never thought about anyone, ever again. He was going to consume you, just as you had consumed him.

Everything changes suddenly. Like neither of you expect it. Din slides you out of his arms, and on your way down, his fingers hook under the flimsy material of your shirt. It sits just above your jeans, exposing a small line of skin that Din’s fingertips currently graze against. There’s nothing you can do to hide the goosebumps that prickle your skin. He seems to stop; waiting for you to shove him away. Waiting for some kind of sign that he is reading this wrong, that he must be.

You drop your hands to his own and, following your lead, he takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere in the darkness.

“Your turn.” You whisper, and your hands come up to his neck, pulling at the fabric that covers him. He still isn’t used to the way you touch him, and if this keeps up, he’s pretty sure he never will be.

It’s a meticulous process - taking off his armor. He can do it with his eyes closed, but it still takes a while. You don’t seem to mind, though. Piece by piece, he sheds the armor away, letting it clatter to the floor around you with little care. Your hands hover over the tops of his, learning, and soon you take initiative by following his actions, repeating the steps on his opposite side.

He doesn’t think he will ever want to take his armor off in any other way.

Your fingers are more delicate, where his own rip and tug at the connectors, your own untangle. Where he shrugs it off, shaking his arm to let the plate tumble to the floor, your hands are feather light as you slide the remaining beskar, and he closes his eyes, content to just feel as you complete the job. Soon enough, he’s standing in front of you in less clothes than he’s ever worn in front of another person.

Any other time, he’s fully clothed, armor only shifted in necessary places. He’s never wanted to be felt, never wanted someone’s hands on him, but after feeling you so close tonight, he doesn’t think he could go another second without it.

You blindly reach out to his face, the dark still keeping his creed intact. He lets your fingertips dance along the ridge of his nose, before you grab his face and pull, locking him into a kiss.

This one is different. Where the others have been full of sweetness, this one is needy. Hungry. Clearly, the process of removing his armor had a similar effect on you, because in the next few seconds he feels you whipping his shirt off, only disconnecting from his mouth for a moment before coming back to him, hands exploring his chest.

He felt big. Of course he was fucking huge, but having him half naked, feeling that broad chest under your palms, you almost forgot how giant he really was. It sent waves of need straight to your core, and you wasted little time tugging at the seams of his pants. If these were just as complicated as his armor was, you think you might collapse before he even-

In one pull, his pants go sliding off, and you feel how fast they drop under the weight of his armor. It makes a loud ‘clang’ as it hits the floor, and even though you can only think of what the sight in front of you must look like, you have to stifle a laugh at how easy it was to take them off.

“Easy access.” Din hums as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, bringing your attention back to him. He drags his teeth along the sensitive skin, and when you arch your back, you feel him. It’s impossible not to, the hard length pressing against your lower stomach, and it sends the butterflies already flying around in your stomach raving mad.

“Please, Din. I need you.” You hear him sigh at your words.

“You sound more perfect than I imagined.” You could feel how hot your face was, even your ears were burning. Before tonight, you could probably count the amount of words he had said on one hand. There was something about hearing him unfiltered, talking like that.

You let out a whimper at the words, and he starts to undo your jeans, finally taking the fucking hint.

“You like it when I talk like that? Tell you how sweet you sound saying my name?”

“Stars- yes. Please.” You shove your jeans down and step out of them, and Din leads you away from the pile of armor and clothes. You have lost all sense of direction, trusting him not to run you into anything. When he stops you, you feel yourself being pressed into an oddly shaped wall. A door? No - the rungs of the ladder leading up to the cockpit stripe against your bare back, and Din helps you sit up on one, taking the weight off your feet.

“Mesh’la, cyar’ika. Sit there and look pretty for me.” You were about to argue that he couldn’t see anything through the dark, but maybe his eyes were better adjusted. Maybe, from all his late nights spent hunting, he could see just a little bit better that you could in the dark. Maybe he truly couldn’t see you, and was just talking to indulge you, but the idea of him still being hidden, while he could see all of you made you start to fidget, almost whining at his lack of touch.

That was, until you heard him drop onto the floor, the wide stretch of his shoulders pushing your knees further apart, and his hands gently adjusting your calves to sit just above his collarbones.

Din could see. Years spent training to look for things no human would look for, scanning through shitty terrain and the helmet adjusting the light, his eyes had become just that much more in tune with the dark. So, while he couldn’t see every stunning curve of your hip, or the way your hair fell over your shoulders, he could see. He could see you, spread out in front of him, hands buried in his hair in anticipation, and it was too damn beautiful to deny.

“Mesh’la.” He repeats against the skin of your inner thigh, before sliding his hands up. He keeps kissing the trail his hands made, and slides his palms under either side of your panties, carefully placing them just outside of where he could see you were wanting him. “Is this okay?”

“I wanna feel you on me, Din. Please.” As much as his words sent you spinning, you knew you had that same effect on him. Din practically rips off your panties, and with a final mumble of incoherent Mando’a, he lets his tongue slide against your pussy, the first contact already having you moaning out his name.

“That’s it. Be as loud as you want. No one can hear you but me.” He never gives you rest, when he speaks he is methodical, making sure his hands keep that tortuous pace. Not so fast where you would tumble over the edge in seconds, although the way he lets his tongue work just around that sensitive bundle of nerves has you thinking he could make you finish in a moment's notice. He doesn’t, though; working you up in slow, gentle strokes that have you seeing more stars than you’ve ever seen in the galaxy.

One of his fingers slides inside of you, and you nearly jump off the ladder in pleasure.

“Oh- f-fuck Din faster.” You almost sob, the pace still so slow and grinding. He is seemingly lost in his own mind - soft vibrations sparking up your body as he hums in content against you. Occasionally, he will mumble a word or two, but they are lost in your own moans of pleasure.

Legs shaking, your hands start to pull a little harder against his scalp, and it surely hurts at least a little. Moving your hips against his face, you feel him smirk against your core, and the desperate movements of your body at least seem to encourage him. You feel like you’re in space - floating in no gravity as Din’s tongue flicks against your clit before he takes it into his mouth and he speeds up the movement of his hand all at once. It’s too much and not enough, and your thighs clamp down on either side of his head as your body is sent into overdrive.

His free arm snakes around the back of the ladder, holding you to him so you have nowhere to go, nothing else to do except exactly what he said - sit there and look pretty. You can’t hold your head up anymore, your body starting to tense as every nerve is set alight. You know it’s coming, but as he pushes you to the edge, the intensity of the incoming pleasure was nothing like you had ever felt.

“D-Dinnn shit I think I’m- oh fu-ck!” Everything lights up as he moans against you, the sensation the last thing you can recall as your body floods with the intensity of your orgasm. Your hands scrunch up in his hair, and you could swear your bones turn to jelly as the feeling racks through your entire being. No one in the galaxy has ever - could ever make you feel like this, but Din does. Din is.

It feels like hours and seconds pass at the same time, Dins mouth slowing its assault as he starts to press sweet kisses to any other expanse of skin he can reach in this position. He coaxes you through as your body reacts to the light touches, humming against your skin and smiling every time you suck in a sharp breath as he edges closer back to your center, before heading in another direction. The game brings your body back together, and fairly soon your fidgeting on the rung of the ladder, desperate to feel more of him against you, but unable to hold anything but his soft hair.

It really was soft.

You start to massage soothing circles into the top of his head as an apology for your tight grip, and he finally relents, tongue tracing a final line over your heated core.

“Jatisyc.” You hear him growl, voice gravelly as he stands. You can feel how tall he is, looming over you even if you can’t see him. You can feel it.

He helps you stand, your legs still shaking slightly, and he guides you over to a corner of the ship before a door opens. You don’t think you’ve been in this section of the ship before, and if you’ve ever spent more than twenty four hours here, you have just slept in a pile of blankets on the floor. He continues to guide you into the room, and the back of your legs hit a metal pole before he stops.

“Lie down.” He kisses your forehead before gently nudging you, and a surprised gasp leaves your mouth at the soft comforter underneath you. A bed. Small, you realize as you slide further back, knees bending to push yourself to the wall it rested on. Clearly made for one, you try to minimize the space you take up as two thick legs box you in on either side. His warmth covers your entire body as he drops his weight down, closing the space and reconnecting his mouth to your own. On instinct, you wrap your legs around his back, pulling his hips down towards the bed, and you can finally feel him against you. Only the thin layer of his briefs separate you but it’s too much - hands creeping down his body and tugging on the waistband, the sound of Din shuddering a breath in your mouth making you act faster. Tugging and shifting on the tiny mattress, you both try your best to stay as close as possible while removing the last layer of clothes.

“Baby - wait, hold on.” He starts to laugh, and the sound is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. He bends down, kicking the clothes to the side somewhere, still laughing at the weird angle you’ve both somehow tangled yourselves in. It’s almost strange - the sound is so unlike the hardened bounty hunter you had tried your best to get used to over the past few months, but it suits him. Hearing him like this, you have no idea how you will be able to stand having him tucked away in that helmet again. You decide, then, that he is taking way too long, and you are not close enough.

“Din.” He turns back to you, finally repositioning so he is between your legs. As he drags his mouth up the length of your body, he lays kisses on the skin open to him, which is all of it. All of you, laid out in the darkness of what must be his room. It smells like him, and with the lack of sight you can imagine he was all around you. His hair brushes against your chest, and your breath hitches in anticipation of him getting closer. “Please.”

“Just like in my dreams.” He mumbles. He doesn’t kiss you just yet. He just hovers, watching with a hunters focus as he lines himself up with you. He could feel how wet you were - like you were just waiting for him. Waiting for him, like he had been waiting for you. Your fingers run soft lines up and down his chest, and his hands fist in the sheets. Even here, at the edge of the most intimate act he could think of, he still wasn’t used to how you touched him.

As he slowly pushed himself into you, you both mimic the sound of ultimate relief. It was achingly slow, the rock of Din’s hips measured with control only he could execute, and before he had driven into you fully, you were already moaning out his name.

“Fuck, Din.” Everytime you say his name, he groans, similar to what you’ve heard when he’s fighting. Like it’s just on that border of pleasure that it’s almost painful, and with your hands bracing on his biceps, you can feel the tense in his shoulders. It’s an entire body experience, calling him by his name, and if that’s what gets him to move fast, you would chant it like a prayer.

“Th-shit. This is okay?” He says in that same low voice you recognise from the club. Practically clinging to him, you shake your head yes in the darkness, hoping to the Maker he doesn’t stop. His forehead is pressing into your own, soft lips dragging against yours as he bottoms out, driving up into a part of yourself you aren’t sure you knew you had.

You cry out, and it’s clearly what he was looking for, because he drags his length all the way out to the tip, and then enters you again, setting a mind numbing pace. You can hear the weak legs of the bed shifting against the hard floor of the ship as he fucks you, hard and slow.

“Fuck, cyar’ika. Feel so fucking good around me.” He gets a little rougher, losing himself in you, speaking through the small gaps of silence when you suck in a breath, only to continue calling out his name in pure ecstasy. There was no boy - no shitty fuck from the club that felt like this. It’s like you were on another planet - in another realm, the sounds he made as he grinded himself into you sending you hurtling in all directions.

“Holy shit-” You gasp, feeling one of his large hands trail down to rub small, tight circles on your clit. Your back arches, pressing your skin to his, and he’s like a heater in the cold of the ship, only making you seek him out more. “Oh-my Din.”

“Yours.” It takes you a second, your eyes screwed shut and your entire body only existing for him, but he says the simple word, and everything freezes. You had said it first. ‘My Din’. Maybe it was on accident, losing the rest of the sentence in the way he was fucking you into the mattress, but you know it wasn’t. Even half lidded, on the edge of your high, you knew it wasn’t a mistake. He wasn’t either.

Yours.

Your Din.

“Mine.” You tug his mouth back to you, teeth latching on to his bottom lip while your fingernails scratch along his toned back. He chokes out a sound just desperate enough to make known that he likes it, so you do it again. You know it’s leaving marks, and he does too. He picks up speed, chasing his own high and his free hand grips onto your hip tight enough to leave the shape of his hold in its wake. You mark him. He marks you.

Yours.

Mine.

“Din please, don’t fucking stop.” Your eyes were closed so tight it screws up your whole face, and even though he hasn’t told you not to look, you can’t bring yourself to throw his trust out the window. Even if your eyes did open, you wouldn’t see him through the dark, and you are pretty sure your eyes would be crossed and glazed over with the zaps of electric pleasure shooting up into your chest.

“Never gonna- shit. Never gonna stop.” Your body shivers in response, and you can feel the coil tightening in your lower stomach. “Gonna keep you on this ship forever. Fuck you every day.”

Maybe it’s the idea of it. Maybe it’s the realization that he could. If he wanted to. It’s mainly the realization that you want him to that snaps that tight coil and sends you all the way over the edge. You feel his hand leave your hip and curl around your back, holding your weight in one strong forearm, he keeps fucking you through your high, using it to reach his own. With a loud growl of your name he follows you, and you feel him pull out at the last second, warmth spreading across your inner thigh.

You were lost in the dark, unsure of where your body started and his ended. Limbs were tangled together, and you feel him sit back on his knees, heaving deep breaths and staring at you. It almost burns, the knowledge of his gaze. Of the sight he must be looking at - of you strung out, covered in the evidence of what he just did. Of what he just did to you. It’s almost enough to make you cum again, just to please him.

You feel him lean over, quickly grabbing whatever fabric was closest and wiping you clean, before proceeding to flop his entire body weight down next to you, and half on top of you. With an exhausted ‘oof’ he almost starfishes on the tiny bed, pulling your naked body underneath one of his outstretched arms. The weight of him makes it a little hard to breathe, but you sigh in relief as you feel his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck, kissing your shoulder and hair tickling your ear.

“Mesh’la.” He mumbles into your skin, and you turn as best you could, pulling his face to press against your own.

“What does that mean?” Your voice is hoarse, hardly above a whisper, and he kisses you before he answers.

“Beautiful.”

“Mesh’la.” You whisper back, and his head dives back into you, hiding himself even though you can’t see him. “So, will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Keep me on this ship forever?” He almost stops breathing - everything goes quiet, and he tries not to react as your hand traces along the small, hot lines you carved into his back. He feels - selfish, with you. He’s not entitled to, he knows he can’t give you anything. Life with him was nothing like you were used to, this night was the first time he had ever stepped foot in a nightclub, unlike you, who did this every day. He couldn’t be selfish with you, but there was a desperate part of him that wanted to be the bad guy. Wanted to say ‘yes’. Wanted to make you his.

“I d-”

“Too late to take it back now. Or are you scared you can’t handle it?” He can hear the shit-eatng grin you are sporting as you tease him, just like before, and he wants to retort, wants to play with you, but he can’t. His brain is fried, and all he can think about is you never leaving.

“Mine.” He whispers, not meaning to say it out loud. You don’t respond right away. Instead, your nose brushes against his, and he feels your short breath kissing his cheek.

He was wrong before - this is the most intimate thing he can imagine.

“Mine.” You say back, and there's not a hint of reservation.

Your breathing starts to slow, and your head drops to his shoulder as exhaustion takes over. He shuffles, cradling your body against his and grabbing the blanket from underneath the bed frame to toss it over you. It wasn’t big enough to cover you both, but the heat of your body next to his combined with his recurring thoughts of what just happened is enough to keep him warm well into the night.

There is too much to do - his bounty hunter brain starts kicking at his conscious mind. The target is escaping, getting further and further every second he spends staring at your sleeping body. He should get up, go off and track it, make good on his promise of getting you off this planet and let you run head first into the life you were meant for.

He doesn’t move. His hand, rough against your soft skin, rubs soothing lines over your arm, and you sigh happily in your sleep. He should do those things, but he won’t. Because of you.

You said he was yours - and hell if he wouldn’t listen.

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hoshigray · 1 year

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A Pricked Hand to Hold

Just thinking about h*lding h*nds with Miguel for the first time bc I'm still fucking soft for this man (like it's so bad).

An: Yup, it's been three weeks, and my infatuation for this man has yet to falter (or that movie in general bc I've seen it like 5-6 times already, and can't get tired of it). This was meant to be a little smthn, but I just wanted to get my soft aggression out of the way. Also, tysm for 1k followers again!! Like fr, y'all are too sweet :') Sacrificed sleep to get this done, sooooo hope you guys like it!! If there are spelling/grammar errors, my dumbass will take care of it tmrw bc I need to take a fckin nap right tf now ahhhhhh— Also! Gonna make an ATSV masterlist later today, so I'll be sure to link it when it's done!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - h*nd h*lding (barf) - the reader is implied to be in college (at least age 20) - you and Miguel aren't together [yet] but the pining is strong in this one! - Lyla and Jessica teasing you lovestruck idiots lol - you accidentally prick yourself with your lead pencil, but no blood or injuries - ayo you and Miguel almost kiss tho??

Wc: 2.1k

As usual, it was a busy day at headquarters. Many anomalies have been captured for Margo to send back home, Spiders helping other Spiders fight off evil-doers and placing them back in their universes, and Pavitr having a scare nearly revealing his identity to his girlfriend, Gayatri.

Then there's you, sitting at a table doing your homework that needs to be finished for the lecture tomorrow. But you're not alone. In front of the table are three others discussing matters of their own. Lyla is giving new information about another anomaly that needs to be captured before going home, and Jessica's leaning on her motorbike listening to her pixel friend. Right next to her is another taller person listening along as well.

Miguel O'Hara — leader of the Spider Society and the man you've been pining for a while now.

You've been working here for a few months, taking in Margo's shifts or helping Lyla relay messages to other Spiders across the multiverse. At first, you've tried to keep it simple and only see it as a job. But the more you work here, the closer you get to others...and your boss, Miguel, is no exception.

Things started short and blunt with him between you two — just simple greetings and exchanges of the necessary information. But then there was a time when the man was in HQ for far too long, probably sacrificing too much sleep and time to eat that day. So, you got him something from the cafeteria and a little note telling him to "Take care of yourself, leader!" before going home.

From that day on, you and Miguel got closer slowly but surely. Not only does he appreciate you reminding him to take breaks or grab something to eat, but he also checks up on you whenever it's your shift, talks to you on his breaks, or eats dinner with you whenever he has a chance (or when he's not stressed out).

And how you talk to each other is much more comfortable and personal. Sure, you're still respectful of his position and are aware of his duties, but it's always a guilty pleasure when he spends his little free time with you. Unfortunately, you've developed feelings for the tall and brawny Spiderman due to this.

You know how complicated it is to have feelings for someone, especially within the work field, so this is something that you have no faith in whatsoever. But for some reason, you can't help but think something between the two of you is starting to bloom...and based on his actions, maybe Miguel feels the same way as well? Lyla and Jessica tease you, saying it's plain to see that even Pav fangirls about you two.

".../n."

However, for a man like him, is such a thing possible?

"Y/n."

Your thoughts vanish as you turn to the person calling for your attention, just to find it's from Miguel. The two women are nowhere to be found, probably tending to other matters you didn't catch because of your overthinking.

"Yes!" you stutter a reply. Oh God, I hope I didn't make him call on me so many times...

"Done with your homework?" He asks while coming to your side of the table.

You give him a nod, fidgeting with your mechanical pencil. "Yeah, I took care of the stuff for my classes tomorrow. Now I just got a paper to finish by Friday...What about you? Gonna head out soon?"

"I would, but I gotta stay here in case Jess needs backup for the mission. She just left to fix up her bike before she goes."

A chuckle sneaks past you, and Miguel swoons at the sound of it. "Are you sure you wanna do that? Didn't Lyla keep bothering you the last time?"

You can tell he reminisces the time you recall; his sigh and a shake from the lead confirm so. "Yeah, well, when is she not bothering me."

"Heard that." The woman appears in front of him quickly before disappearing again, leaving Miguel a little puzzled before a slight scowl paints his face. Yet it's not so bad when he sees you laugh at the interaction.

"I swear," your giggles wear down, but your smile remains. "It's like you two are siblings or something. But that just means the pestering comes from a place of love."

He hums at your words. "Yeah, love..."

For the past few months, you've been a reoccurring theme in Miguel's life that he thought he'd never experience again. From the day he met you, he figured keeping his distance and maintaining an appropriate work relationship would benefit him. But he was a fool to challenge your beauty and welcoming aura whenever you entered the scene. Especially your kind gestures, starting with the food and your little note for him.

It was apparent then that avoidance would do more harm to himself than good, so he spent his days getting to know you more, understanding you more, appreciating you more...and worse, loving you more.

An emotion such as love has been something that's only brought up painful memories and anguish. And for that reason, Miguel has chosen to dedicate his life and being to doing something he's good at — his job protecting the multiverse. Because, in his eyes, it's the only thing he seems capable of. Not love.

...However, whenever you look at him, speak to him, or smile at him, Miguel can't fight the twinge of his heart longing for something — longing for you. And he knows he isn't the only one who thinks so since Lyla constantly ridicules him about his "schoolboy crush," just like a sibling.

Nonetheless, he still doesn't go far from the talks you share with him or the times you eat together in a friendly manner. Because that's what he and you are comfortable with, and he wouldn't want to break it. Yet he can't help but wonder what would happen if he was just a little more selfish.

Be more selfish and pursue you...without losing you.

"OUCH!!"

Without hurting you.

Miguel's thoughts are immediately halted when he hears your hurtful cry. You drop your pencil and grab your finger as you wince through the pain. And he wastes no time coming to your proximity to examine what happened. "What!? Something wrong?"

"Ahhhh, yeah, I'm fine," You reassure him with an attempted smile. "I just accidentally pricked myself with my pencil."

"Let me see."

The words take a long to register before the man takes your hand in his, the back of your hand resting on his palm while he surveys your fingers. He then sees a tiny circle indent on your middle finger. "I don't see any pieces of lead."

"Oh, thank goodness," you exhale in relief. "Because I don't think I'd survive tomorrow if I did. I got three lectures that day!"

Miguel chortles at your comment, and it has the beat of your heart quicken. "So sorry for you."

Your smile is still prominent. "Thank you, Miguel."

"Don't mention it."

Silence follows those words, yet they're substituted with gazes between you and the man. The twinge on your lips slowly dissolves the more you lose yourself in his burnt amber eyes. The same goes for Miguel, who still has your hand in his.

The internal turmoil in his mind doesn't ease at that fact, incapable of deciphering whether to let go. And when your hand slowly reciprocates the hold — turning it for both palms to face each other — his breath hitches.

"Miguel..." his name appeared in a whisper, only for him to hear. Your breathing goes shaky when he replies with his fingers intertwined with yours. And you notice him take a tense gulp, easing your nerves to know that he's also nervous.

He knows he shouldn't be this close to you as it could jeopardize the relationship you have spent all these months building and maintaining together. However, this is the first time he's been so close to you, touching you. And his heart pushes him to want more.

He knows he shouldn't...but curiosity is an intriguing dance. That's why he slowly leans forward to you.

And you go rigid by the notion...yet your eyes are drawn to his lips, and you follow suit by going inward. Eyes close, letting the moment take place for itself.

"Ready, Miguel?"

Nevermind.

Both eyes open immediately, and locked hands are withdrawn from each other. Miguel puts on his mask quickly, but you could still see a slight flush of pink on his cheeks and ears before they were covered up. You straighten yourself and look to the other side of the table to see Jessica on her motorbike entering the scene.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

"Oh—" the woman spots you two before Miguel stands straight up, and she doesn't try to hide the smile that creeps on her face. "Oh. Was I interrupting something?"

"No." You two say in unison. Jess only lifts a brow through her yellow goggles. You continue with an explanation while you pack up your stuff. "I accidentally pricked my finger with my mechanical pencil, so Miguel checked it out to see if I had any lead on it."

"Ooh, yeah, those aren't fun. Basically like a splinter." Before Jessica could say more, Lyla appeared in everyone's line of sight.

"Good, you two are still here." She jumps around between Jessica and Miguel. "The anomaly we discussed earlier has jumped to another dimension as predicted; better get them now so we can go home."

The two nod while you get up from the table with your backpack. "Good luck out there, guys." You address the older three before exiting for the night, and they all say their goodbyes to you.

For a few seconds, your eyes linger on Miguel. Despite the mask covering his face, his gaze was intense and palpable. Without saying a word, you let your eyes say your final words before turning to leave.

Miguel still watches you leave until he's unable to spot you through the dark hall. And unfortunately for him, he can feel two pairs of eyes on him. He mentally prepares himself before looking at the two women who harbor shameless grins. "What's with the faces?"

Lyla and Jessica only share a look amongst themselves and shrug before answering him. "Oh, I don't know, Miguel." The pixelated woman darts close to the man. "What's with your face?"

"Wh-What are you—"

"C'mon now, Miguel." Jessica cuts him off. "Seems like something more was going on than just a pricked finger."

He sighs. "Well, you're wrong. Because that's all it was." The two share another look with each other as their smirks go higher.

"Oh~, my darling Miguel," Jessica changes her voice to a higher pitch and daydream tone. "I wish you luck on your mission and that you return to see me tomorrow~."

"Don't you worry, my wonderful Y/n," Despite Miguel's eyes narrowing at Lyla's terrible impression of his voice, she still acted out the role. "I will return to you unscathed and have you in my loving arms in no time~."

"I don't talk like that." The two women chuckle at his blunt statement. "How old do you think I am?"

"Old enough to look like a man but still scared to talk to your lil' crush." Jessica crosses her arms with a matter-of-fact attitude, her smile itching broader when Miguel rolls his eyes through the mask.

"Ay, por Dios, can we please open the portal already?" The poor man can only take so much teasing from the two, making him feel like he should've left with you instead.

Lyla giggles one last time before Jessica uses her watch to open a portal to the desired dimension. "Whatever you say, lover boy." The portal opens, and a flash of colors and shapes contrasts with the dull room. Jessica is the first to go, Miguel following right behind her.

Even when going on his mission, his mind can't stop thinking about you and the moment you shared together earlier. It was a risky thing to have happened, and he scolds himself for letting such a thing happen. Miguel knows he isn't a person for love, for it's something meant to be destroyed by his very touch. You are no exception; the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He loves you too much to put you through that.

But then the compliance and willingness you've expressed in holding his hand surely meant that you wanted something more, right?

If Miguel were selfish enough, he'd use that as a hint. A hint to look forward to what other things you'd allow him to express to you.

If he were selfish enough, he would plan to approach you tomorrow in the right way.

If he were selfish enough, he'd test out the waters more and finally let this "love" flourish into something better.

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theliteraryarchitect · 2 months

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Hi! I wanted to say, I read that you are a professional editor, and think it's amazing! You also give very logical and well explained advice. I was wondering; would you say being an editor is a job you can support yourself with? I actually aspire to become one someday, but I'm not exactly sure if it's a good plan.

Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a good day/night

Hey there. Great question. It's totally possible to support yourself as an editor. I've done it, and so have other editors I know. However there are a few important things to consider before choosing editing as a career path.

Your chances of being a self-employed freelancer are extremely high. The number of in-house editing jobs in publishing are low and getting lower. While being self employed can give you a certain amount of flexibility, it also comes along with a lot of hustle and hassle, namely fluctuating income, a stupid amount of confusing tax paperwork, and the need to constantly promote yourself to clients in order to maintain steady work.

You probably won't make as much money as you'd think. Editing is one of the many skilled jobs that suffers from market saturation, which has sadly driven down the price the average client is willing to pay for editing services. I can't tell you the number of overqualified editors I know charging barely more than minimum wage for their work. Personally I've stuck to my guns about charging what I'm worth, but I've sometimes suffered by not having as much work as my colleagues who charge less.

Robots have already chipped away at the future of editing as a human occupation, and will continue to do so at exponential speed in the years ahead. They will never obliterate the job completely, as there will always be humans who prefer to work with humans instead of machines. But the outlook will become ever bleaker as more humans compete for fewer gigs, which in turn will drive down prices even further.

If you are also a writer, editing may adversely affect your writing. I don't mean that you'll become a worse writer, quite the opposite. My editing work has brought new depths to my writing, and I'm grateful for all I've learned by working with my clients. However, editing takes time, uses creative energy, and requires staring at a screen (or paper), and personally the more I edit, the less time/creativity/screen-staring capabilities I have left for my own writing.

If you mention you're an editor, someone will troll your post for a typo, grammatical error, or misused word, and then triumphantly point it out to you in the comments. This is mostly a joke. But it does happen every single time.

I hope this hasn't been too discouraging. If you feel a true passion for editing and really enjoy the work, none of the above should dissuade you. However, if you think you might be happy in any number of occupations, I'd honestly advise you to explore other options. Choosing a career path at this point in history is a gamble no matter what, but the outlook for editors is especially grim.

If you'd like to work with writers and aren't attached to being an editor, there are a few jobs (still freelance) that I believe will survive the coming robot apocalypse. Do a little Google research about "book coaches," "writing coaches," or "book doulas." These are people who act primarily as emotional supporters and logistical helpers for writers who are trying to get their book published or self published. Some of them do actual editing, but many do not, and due to the therapeutic nature of their work I believe they will flourish longer than editors in the coming robot apocalypse.

If you do explore editing as a path, the further away you can lean from spelling and grammar (e.g. proofreader or copyeditor), the longer your skills will be useful when competing with robots. AI still struggles to offer the same kind of nuanced, story-level feedback that a human can give. (Speaking from experience here--I'm a developmental editor and have yet to see a dent in my workload because of robots.) They'll catch up eventually, but it could be a while, and as long as there are human readers, there will always be humans who are willing to pay for a human perspective on their writing. Human spell checkers maybe not so much.

Hope this helps!

#writeblr #asks #op #editing

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f1goat · 3 months

Text

more than friends ; lando norris + part five

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three / part four

You can’t stop staring at Lando. Everyone else around you is doing the exact same, you’re sure of it. He’s absolutely glowing right now. After his deleted lap time from the qualifications yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. It’s only seconds before they’ll hand him his deserved trophy for the second place from this race. A smile is plastered on your face while staring at Lando. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good.

Lando is literally glowing. Most people would blame it on the sweat, but you can’t even think about things like that right now. All logic has left your brain, you can only focus on Lando and how good he looks.

“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you after his podium. He’s still wearing that glow from his podium. You can smell the scent of expensive champagne. What if you would kiss Lando right now, would you taste the champagne? If there weren’t this many people around you, you’d have loved to find that out. While Lando doesn’t talk at first, you continue to praise him and his race. Lando gives you a hug, something you gladly return.

“You know what this means, right babygirl?” Lando whispers in your ear while hugging you. You think back at the conversations between you two from earlier. Is he serious? This is what he’s thinking about right now? You wait for Lando to continue, he must mean something else. “I want you,” Lando speaks up again in a slow but firm way, “in my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debrief.”

You feel your cheeks heating up, they are red now for sure.

“Can you do that for me babygirl?” Lando continues to ask you. You can’t seem to get out any word right now, so you answer him with a nod. If you did know what to say, you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a small kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe even this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over social media.

You’re no stranger to social media, but whenever Lando and you make an appearance together somewhere you’re socials seem to fill up with hate.

Lando walks away from you. It’s clear what you need to do right now. He was quite obvious about his wishes and who are you to deny those for him? Without thinking about it further, you walk back towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are - and that if they say no, they’ll have to deal with an angry Lando, but you don’t know about that. Instead of making some conversation with the cheerful people who are still around, you walk straight towards Lando his drivers room.

When you enter his room, you start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear, yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel even more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then for him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando seeing everything of you that makes you nervous. He hasn’t seen your private parts before. What if they don’t look good enough? Normally Lando dates models, you bet they look a lot better then you.

You try to shake off the negative thoughts and focus on your Instagram. The story you posted a it earlier about Lando on his podium, is getting a lot of reactions. You scroll through every one of them. When you see a notification from Lando popping up, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?

Lando: 5 minutes babe x

Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes :))

Only the thought about you waiting for Lando in his drivers room in only your lingerie - or maybe even naked, makes you feel too many things at once. Your stomach tightens when you think about it, you don’t know if it’s because of excitement or nerves. Without realizing it, you’re already kicking off your sneakers. Your next movements are going on automatic pilot. At this moment you don’t think about all the people who can simply just walk in and see you like this. It doesn’t even come up in your mind right now. You can only focus on doing what Lando asked you and pleasing him. In a short period of time, the floor is covered in the clothes you were wearing before. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a simple black set, nothing too exciting but it does look nice. You think about buying an orange set someday. Are you going to keep it on or not? You doubt. Eventually you decide to fuck it and take it off as well.

You thank the warm weather of today and of this country. The thought of Lando who can be here any second, is enough to make you shiver. It feels strange to wait for Lando naked, certainly while being in his drivers room. Then you realize that Lando has never seen you like this before. The cons are starting to weight up. You start to doubt yourself more and more. What if he doesn’t like the way you look?

When the door opens you’re extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. Why does it only occur to you now that literally everyone can walk in here? You let out a relieved sound when you see that it’s Lando who opened the door. Lando has never closed a door faster. When he sees the way you’re waiting for him, he hurries himself inside the room and closes the door quickly behind himself. After that he’s even more hurried to come close to you.

Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring, maybe he’s even making you uncomfortable with his staring, but he can’t stop. At this moment he doesn’t even think about looking away from you. He never saw you like this before. Everything that happened earlier between you two always happened with you in clothes. Of course, he had some information about your body from the summery looks and the bikinis. But still, this is mind-blowing to him. It’s even better then he imagined and he imagined it quite often… He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body.

For now his focus is onto your breasts, he notices the way your nipples are sticking out. They resemble small pebbles in his mind. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to feel them in his mouth until he feels them hardenen on his tongue, only to switch to the other one after that and experience it again. He lets his stare slide towards your most private parts. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other. He wants to see more of you. He wants to see everything from you.

It can’t be right that you’re the girl who has made the most impact on him. He doesn’t even need to think about all the other girls to know for sure you’re the most beautiful one. Seeing you naked has caused him to be rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He tries to remember himself that this is all about you - and not about him, but it’s hard to stop thinking about his own pleasure while feeling as turned on as now. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes, and it’s doing way too much to him right now.

You start to feel a bit uncomfortable with Lando his current silence. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? Maybe you should ask him. When you start to think about what to question him, Lando lets out a soft sound. It almost sound likes a moan. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. It looks like he’s looking at you full with adoration and lust, or are you making that up?

Lando walks closer to you. He takes his time to get close in front of you. When he’s finally standing in front of you, he is quick to lower himself so he’s on the same level as you. Then he eagerly puts his lips onto yours. He gives you a soft peck on your lips, before taking a seat next to you. Lando pulls you onto his lap. He makes sure you face him. At this moment he wants to see everything from your body the whole time.

He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. He presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect you to be naked already,” Lando continues, “such a beautiful surprise.” He presses his lips against your body again and presses multiple kisses against it. Slowly he’s getting closer to your breasts.

You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. He lets out a low groan. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes one of your breasts into his hand, softly feeling around it. He looks at you to focus on your facial expressions, hopefully to find out what you like - and more importantly, what not. After softly feeling around your tit, he takes it in his hand and kneads it softly.

“Such a good girl,” Lando tells you.

Your stomach tightens. Your cheeks redden once again. Such small words, but their impact is massive.

“Such a beautiful, good girl,” Lando whispers softly.

Lando his attention switches to your tits. Your glad about it, because it’s probably embarrassing how red your cheeks are right now. Lando lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He’s still kneading one of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against your other boob. He presses soft kisses against it before he starts to suck on the soft skin. You quietly follow his movements with your eyes, not looking away for the tiniest bit. It doesn’t take Lando long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. You feel him sucking on it softly.

When Lando moves back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando changes his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, slowly letting it slide lower on your body. In the mean time he lets his mouth hoover over your other boob. It doesn’t take long before he takes your nipple in his mouth. Softly sucking it in again. It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you when you notice that you feel yourself getting more wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, you can’t complain about one tiny part of it.

He removes his lips from your breast again. His hands are moving downwards. Quickly getting closer to your private parts. It annoys you that he doesn’t touch you where you need him. He keeps his hand barely above your pussy. You don’t even realize it when you let out a soft whine.

Lando on the other hand is quick to notice the sound. “What’s wrong babygirl?” He asks you. You notice the small smirk that has appeared on his face. It makes you realize that he’s teasing you like this on purpose. Fucking tease. You want to tell him, but every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling.

“I need you,” you softly whimper.

Lando lets out a low groan. Animalistic even. The whiny undertone in your voice makes him lose his mind. He moves himself lower, making sure to take a good position in front of you. You’re still sitting on the couch, Lando is onto his knees in front of you. He takes your legs into his hands, spreading them slowly for himself.

You look at Lando, but he doesn’t look back. All his attention is on your pussy right now. Before you can feel uncomfortable, awkward or nervous about it - Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He tells you with a low voice. Carefully he slides his hand around it. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance. Lando knows he’s teasing you, maybe too much even, but he can’t stop himself. He loves the soft combination from whimpers, whines and moans that are coming from your lips. It’s his celebration after all, right? When he takes a look at you, he’s quick to notice the frustrated look on your face. It makes him realize how much you need him right now. A feeling that makes him feel unbelievable good about himself. He wants you to never need anyone else like this. If it’s up to him, he’s the one who you need like this for the rest of your life.

He slides his fingers on your lips. Carefully spreading them a bit with his hands. Giving himself more to look at.

“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you.

He lets his finger slides through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. His finger is quickly coated in your slick.

“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.

He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh.

“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you.

“Yes,” you’re quick to tell him.

“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando asks you. He knows the answer already, but he wants nothing more then to hear you say it. He needs to hear that he’s the one who caused this.

“You Lan,” you softly confess, “it’s all because of you.”

Lando can’t withhold a soft moan after hearing your answer. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. Slowly he moves closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine.

“I need more,” you confess, “Please Lan.”

Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time.

“More,” you let out.

Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure it’s still not enough for you. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. A thought pops up in his head, what if he made you beg for it? Fuck that would be hot. His dick is getting even harder while thinking about it.

“What do you want baby?” Lando asks you.

He makes sure his finger is dangerously close to your clit right now. Not onto it, but really close.

“You,” you whimper.

“No, no,” Lando tuts, “What do you want me to do?”

Lando his question makes you silent for a bit. He moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. According to you, it’s absolutely unfair what he’s doing to you. How can he makes you feel like this with barely touching you? For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can ever makes you feel like this. You highly doubt it.

“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t help you,” Lando teases you.

“Fucking tease,” you groan.

“Tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease.

You let out a soft trail of whimpers. “Please Lan,” you softly say. He just shakes his head. “Can you please do something about it?” You continue. Lando shakes his head again. “Fuck Lando,” you groan, “just lick me please.” That seems to work. Lando doesn’t reply verbally, he moves his head as close as he can towards your pussy.

He finally starts to do what you asked him. You remind yourself to tell him what you want sooner the next time - knowing Lando, he will be acting like this a whole lot more. Lando slowly licks around your vagina. He makes sure to lick every part of it before turning his attention to his clit. Still teasing you. When he finally reaches your clit, he presses a soft kiss against it. When you want to let out another beg - for Lando to finally do something, he already starts to place soft, small licks onto it. He’s making sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants to do this right. He wants you to enjoy this just as much as he is doing right now. When you let out multiple moans, Lando increases his pace a bit.

In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings his finger to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows really well how much he’s teasing you, but he can’t help himself. He loves the way you response to him and the soft begs that are leaving your lips. All because of him. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you use when you beg him for something. Lando wants to know for sure that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him.

You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint and finally puts his finger inside. Maybe even more then one now that you think about it. Lando doesn’t respond to your earlier movement. You open your eyes, which you had closes the whole time. To your surprise Lando is already looking at you. Staring even. Before you speak up, you admire the way he looks between your legs. You move your hands to his curls, softly tugging on them.

Lando still makes soft licks onto your clitoris. It’s making you feel all kind of things. Sometimes he switches a bit and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, those are the best. Even though you still want more. Greedy, isn’t it?

“Lan,” you speak up with a soft voice. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. “I need more,” you tell him. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment when you tell him that. Lando removes his mouth from you and takes a good look at you. His fingers replace the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as his tongue.

“More?” He asks you.

“Please,” you beg.

“Tell me what you want babygirl,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are trembling over your lips like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it and enjoy every small detail again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before.

“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips.

“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess.

Lando still doesn’t give you what you want. “Ask me,” he tells you sternly.

“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks. Before he can react to you, you’re already add another few words. “Please Lan?”

His boner almost explodes when he hears to soft ‘please Lan’ coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore. He’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hear hard moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s already getting addicted to the sound of your moans? He wants to be the only one who ever hears these sounds coming from your lips. He never wants to share this sound with anyone else.

Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and outside of you. It doesn’t take him long before adding another finger. He increases his pace and really starts to finger fuck you. In the mean time he focuses on eating you out. He softly sucks on your clit. It makes you almost scream from pleasure.

“Fuck Lan,” you moan when he sucks even harder on your clit.

He doesn’t response verbally, but he keeps increasing his pace. He even adds a third finger. Your wells are starting to clench around his fingers more and more. Patiently he waits for you to come. He feels your clitoris starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself.

“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking even harder. He moves his fingers even faster inside you. He gives all his attention to the soft, spongy spot inside you. You let out another hard moan.

“Can I come?” You suddenly ask him.

Lando feels overwhelmed by your sudden question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. You’ll literally be the death of him. While Lando doesn’t know how to respond at first, you are having more trouble with holding back your orgasm. The waves of pleasure are already hitting over you in a fast pace. You’re really close.

“Lan?” You quickly ask, hoping that he will respond to your question.

He removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. Not any longer then necessary. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you before taking your clit back in his mouth again. Softly sucking it before licking it with a fast pace. He focuses his gaze on your face. He can’t look away from you. When your orgasm hits you, Lando notices everything about it. He sees the way you close your eyes when the first waves hit you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple soft moans. When you press your legs a bit more together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future.

Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your wetness off his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly let your body rest against him.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”

Lando shows you a small grin. “Glad you liked it,” he says. His cock is still throbbing inside of his race suit. “You taste better then the champagne,” he tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he’s quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint tase of your own slit on his tongue combined with the bitter taste of champagne.

Then you notice Lando’s bulge in his race suit. Did eating you out make him this hard? You let your hand rest on his boner.

“Maybe I can do something for you as well,” you tell Lando with a soft voice.

“I wish,” he grunts almost annoyed, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”

“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest.

“I like the way your thinking babygirl,” Lando softly laughs.

“You still deserve a celebration as well,” you tell Lando.

“Believe me babygirl, this was a whole celebration,” he confesses, “Next time I don’t even want to stop after your first orgasm.”

“You think I can cum more then once?” You ask confused.

“Add a lesson about overstimulation to your teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend the whole evening between your legs and pull every orgasm out of you that you have. Leaving not even one of them for anyone else.

“Deal,” you react.

Lando can only smile after that. How did this even happen to him? It feels like he’s living his dream, but when he thinks about the fact that you’re still ‘just friends’ they shatter apart.

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

911 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 4 months

Text

Tiktok trends | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: 4 times that Y/N and Chris made a couple's trend on tiktok.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: This happens in the same universe as the Guess who's who | Chris Sturniolo.

PS. 2: I made a part 2!

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Since the pandemic, tiktok has become one of the most used social media in the whole world, thousands of people download it every day and thousands more create content daily or, sometimes, just post a video that explodes in views, many of them starting a career with it, or creating a hobby from it.

And that's what happened in Y/N's life. She was still finishing high school when she posted her first video on the app, not expecting it to get more than 10 likes.

She was at the triplets' house, still in Boston, watching a movie with her boyfriend, when that same video exploded, reaching more than 300 thousand views and 150 thousand likes.

So, while Matt, Nick, and Chris were starting their careers on their new YouTube channel, Y/N was starting hers on TikTok.

Fans loved the fact that Chris's girlfriend had a TikTok account and posted regularly, after all, she lived with him in LA, which meant that the fandom had content of her and him together almost weekly.

Y/N was the typical influencer who participated in all the trends that interested her, from dancing or singing famous songs to recording herself cooking different recipes.

But the ones she loved most were the couple trends, and it was nothing that a few minutes of begging Chris to do them with her couldn't convince him.

Secretly, the boy loved making that mini videos for TikTok with Y/N; he adored showing that he was hers, how much he loved her, and how obsessed he was with her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Chris positioned Y/N's phone on top of his computer desk, the device resting on his laptop with the screen facing forward, the TikTok camera already open, and with the audio already selected.

The boy took his Prada wallet from the back pocket of his baggy jeans, leaving it ready in his hand, hiding it behind his back.

His blue eyes glanced briefly at Y/N, who was on his right side and out of the camera's frame, a smile on her face as she admired him, waiting for the recording to begin.

He extended his right arm, clicking the red button in the bottom center of the screen. The melody of the chorus of Cupid's Chokehold / Breakfast in America by Gym Glass Heroes began to play.

"Everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet like"

Chris removed his hand that was hidden behind his back, showing the black wallet and opening it, holding it on the left side so that the right side was exposed to the camera, the transparent plastic holding a small picture of Y/N. His face appeared on the right side of the screen, a sideways smile decorating his face.

The girl was lying on Chris's chest in the picture, probably in their bed, the room was dark and the camera's flash completely illuminated her face, a big smile adorned her features along with her closed eyes.

Chris brought his wallet closer to the phone's front camera, holding it there for a few seconds before lifting it slowly and lowering it quickly while moving slightly to the right side.

"Take a look at my girlfriend"

Y/N's figure appeared where the wallet was, wearing a pink set from Fresh Love, a soft smile on her face as her eyes focused on Chris, a passionate glow in them.

"She's the only one I got (ba-ba-da-da)"

Chris returned the smile, placing his wallet on the desk and pulling his girlfriend's body against his, filling her face and neck with kisses. Y/N, throwing her head back with her mouth open in silent laughter, was the last image the camera captured before the tiktok ended.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N docked her phone in the phone holder attached to the dashboard of the triplets' car, which she asked Matt to borrow the keys so she could go out to lunch with Chris.

She lowered the device's screen brightness, leaving it at minimum so that Chris wouldn't see the TikTok camera opened. Her eyes quickly went to her boyfriend next to her, seeing him scrolling through his own cell, probably looking for a nice restaurant for them to eat at, as Y/N had asked him to do.

She quickly clicked the red record button at the bottom of the screen, smiling briefly at it, an amused gleam in her eyes.

"There's this Osteria Mozza that looks cool. It's Italian, just how you like it." Chris commented, his eyes still focused on his own phone screen as he read the restaurant's reviews.

"Great, I feel like eating pasta." Y/N nodded quickly. "Let me just touch up my lip gloss real quick." She asked, turning her body sideways and reaching over to the seat where Nick normally sits, grabbing her purse.

She pulled it forward, slamming the side of it against the back of Chris' head, before placing it on her lap.

"Ouch, fuck! What was that for?" Chris's voice was high pitched due to the surprise of the impact, his cap almost falling off his head as his right hand left his phone and went to his hair, fixing the piece there while he looked exasperatedly at his girlfriend, his blue eyes wide.

The girl pressed her lips together as she tried to hold back her laughter, clearing her throat momentarily. She opened her purse and took out her Dior lip gloss.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't even notice. Are you okay?" Y/N glanced at him quickly, her brow furrowed in false concern.

"Yes, just be careful next time." Chris asked, removing his hand from his cap before turning his attention back to his phone.

Y/N closed the zipper after reapplying her lip gloss, anticipating her boyfriend's final reaction before turning her body again, raising her arm and taking the purse to the backseat, slamming it into Chris again, this time hitting his nose.

"Babe! What the fuck?" He frowned, turning abruptly to her as he brought his hand up to his nose, rubbing the area. "What the hell are you doing?"

A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat, her mouth falling open as a laugh escaped freely, her head falling back. Chris watched her as if she were crazy, the beginning of a smile appearing on his lips, his blue eyes running over her expressions.

"I'm sorry baby, it was for a tiktok. You're so funny." She said amidst laughter, pointing to her phone that was still recording them.

Chris rolled his eyes, a big smile taking over his features as his hand reached for the device. He widened his eyes at the camera playfully before clicking the red button again, stopping the recording.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N took advantage of the fact that Chris was still brushing his teeth in the bathroom of their bedroom to position her phone on the nightstand on her side of the bed, the front camera capturing an entire side of the room.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to contain her laughter in anticipation as she grabbed her pillow and blanket from the bed, gathering them both under her arm.

"Chris, I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight." Y/N spoke out loud, intending for the boy to hear her.

And he did, lifting his head abruptly and turning his body completely towards her, his toothbrush in hand and toothpaste on his lips.

"What?" His voice was muffled by his full mouth, his eyes wide as he watched her in surprise.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch today." She repeated, looking directly at him this time, making sure her body wasn't in full view of the camera or cutting into Chris's image.

"What? Why?" Chris asked again, a thread of sadness crossing his blue eyes as his brow furrowed, his mind working hard to try to understand what he had done wrong. A pain took over Y/N's heart, wanting to give up on the idea right then and there.

"I'm going to sleep in the living room, on the couch." Y/N spoke one last time, turning around and walking towards the bedroom door, in order to open it, but her action was stopped by the brunette, who spat the paste in his mouth into the sink and dropped the brush, running towards the girl.

"Wait, you sleep on the bed, and I sleep on the floor above a blanket or something, and tomorrow morning, we'll talk about it. Just don't let me sleep alone." He asked in a desperate tone, taking her arm and pulling her close, wanting to hug her and apologize for whatever he had done, even without knowing what it was.

Y/N looked into Chris' eyes, her own wide in surprise. She didn't expect that.

"Oh my baby, no! It's a prank, just a tiktok trend." The girl explained quickly, pointing briefly to the phone still recording before pulling Chris into her arms, feeling her eyes filling with tears and her heart warming with love.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Nick, this is not that difficult. They only have two types: pink and purple, I want the pink one! Are you dumb?" Chris was talking loudly, his phone pressed on his ear as he was on a call with his brother, having asked Nick to buy a specific candy he knew Y/N liked on his quick trip to Target.

Y/N walked towards him with her own phone in hand already recording, the rear camera facing Chris, who was sitting on their bed with his back against the headboard, the blanket covering half of his body as the sound of a random series came out of the television.

The girl was only wearing small cycling black shorts and a Chris t-shirt that was huge on her body, covering her bra-free boobs.

She walked closer as she watched her boyfriend fight with his brother, a look of boredom in his eyes that quickly met hers, a small smile appearing on his face as he sent her a wink.

Y/N smiled back before stopping her steps, her free hand going to the hem of her - his - t-shirt and pulling it up a second later, exposing her boobs to Chris.

His blue eyes widened in a matter of seconds, his mouth opening into a perfect O. Nick's voice sounded shouting from the other side, demanding that Chris responded, but to his ears, everything seemed to have gone silent.

"Nick, buy anything, you name it. I need to take care of one thing right now, I mean, two." The brunette spoke weakly into his phone, lowering the device and clicking the red button to hang up the call without even looking at it, completely ignoring Nick's voice on the other end.

The girl let out a laugh, the image of Chris standing up abruptly and pulling Y/N against his body being the last thing captured on camera, before the tiktok ended.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

1K notes · View notes

halsteadlover · 1 year

Text

My Warrior

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Pregnant!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hello! I was wondering if you could do a Jay x pregnant!Reader where she's like in labor but has some complications and almost dies but at the end she is saved ? And Jay is al worried but then he becomes a softy with her being happy 'bout having his daughter/son with them? Angs/fluff, just do it if you want to, if not s'okay.

• Warnings: mention of blood, birth, tiny bit of swearing.

• Word count: 3951.

• A/N: first of all I want to apologize for any grammar error and I’m aware that medically speaking there will be many mistakes but I was too lazy to search it up so bear with me 💀 I hope you’ll like it anyways, comment, like and reblog if you want, it’d be amazing. Thank you for everything and your constant support. I love you all, my inbox is always open if you want to even just talk ❤️

“Jay I think my water just broke.”

From the moment these words came out of your mouth panic set in and if the contractions weren't so painful, you probably would have laughed at the way Jay was running back and forth around the house looking for the bag he had preemptively packed weeks and weeks before.

“Baby where's the bag? Did you see it? I swear I left it here in the bedroom… Oh my god, oh god…” he kept rambling, opening every closet door, even checking under the bed and behind the door.

You approached him just as the contractions stopped and grabbed his arm. “Baby just take it easy, everything will be fine.”

He nodded and took deep breaths as you did so, while you tried not to chuckle. “Okay, okay, I'm fine. Everything will be fine. I’m sorry love, I should be calming you now, how are you feeling now?”.

At the exact moment those words left his lips, a rather intense and painful contraction made you lean forward, your hand squeezing Jay's arm tightly.

“Oh fuck…” you mumbled, eyes closed in pain.

“We’re going to Med's baby, okay? It's okay, it's okay,” Jay whispered, patting your back in comfort but worried sick. He tried to stay as calm as possible, not to go crazy even though he was a complete mess. He couldn't let his emotions get the better of him, you were about to give birth to his child and besides the excruciating pain of the contractions you didn't need to deal with his nervousness.

They prepared you for the childbirth’s pain, how intense the contractions would be, but no pre-natal course, manual or blog would ever really prepare you for how much pain you would have to go through. Your screams echoed throughout the room and you kept praying to God that all that pain would end soon, you just wanted to hug your baby.

Jay never left your side for even a second nor did his hand ever leave yours. He was sitting next to you, you squeezing his hand while he caressed your back even though he figured that gesture didn't help. His stomach was twisted with anxiety, he could hardly believe he was about to finally hug his son, his baby, he couldn’t believe you were about to become a family.

“Please make it stop,” you cried desperately, writhing in the bed.

“I'm so sorry baby, I'd take all your pain if I could,” Jay replied and he meant every single word. He would really rather suffer and take all your pain than see you suffer like that. He hated you were in such an intense pain and he just couldn't do anything to make you better, he hated feeling so useless as he heard the love of his life scream in pain.

“I hate you so fucking much Jay…” you screamed “I swear you’ll never touch me with a fucking finger again!”.

“I know love, it's my fault,” he tried to humor you, stroking your hair.

“And don't say that just to make me happy! I'm not fucking stupid!” anger took over “Stupid fucking men, you have sex, come inside us and we have to suffer like this!”.

Jay tried not to laugh, biting the inside of his cheeks or he knew he’d most likely get killed. He wanted to suffer with you but he cared about his life.

The rest of Jay's team, along with his brother who had been on duty up until then, arrived a couple of hours into your labor but they figured it might not be the time to go in there all together given the way you kept cursing jay and the whole world.

“Okay Y/N here we go. Are you ready to hug your baby?” your gynecologist asked, checking the dilation of your cervix and realizing you were now ready to push.

You nodded and thought it was also time, since you had been in labor for more than twelve hours.

“Is the dad okay? He looks like he saw a ghost,” the gynecologist laughed, noting the pallor of Jay's skin.

“I'm fine, I'm fine, it's finally happening,” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

“Please don't leave me,” you begged, eyes filled with tears and your hand clasped over his.

He kissed your forehead. “I won't leave you baby, don't even say that as a joke. Man, we're about to be parents.”

You nodded smiling through tears. “I'm sorry I told you I hate you, it's not true baby, I love you so much.”

“I know baby, I know,” he kissed your forehead again “I love you so much too.”

Your doctor smiled as she saw the love between you and Jay, the way you looked at each other, the way he kept holding you and comforting you.

Under indication of the doctor, you started to push as you kept thinking you had to hold on, to resist for your baby that you so wanted to hold in your arms, for the little creature you were about to give birth. But you were so exhausted, so damn tired, you didn't know if you'd make it, if you'd hold on much longer.

“Okay now stop pushing, take some deep breaths Y/N, you're doing great,” your gynecologist spoke, and you leaned exhausted into Jay's arms.

“I'm so proud of you baby, so damn proud, I could never do what you're doing,” Jay whispered, kissing your sweaty forehead. He stroked your face, brushing the sticky hair from your forehead and squeezing you like he never did before.

“I can't take it anymore Jay, I'm so tired… I can't take it…” you cried, powerless. Damn it, you never imagined childbirth was such a tiring and exhausting experience.

“Of course you can darling, you're so strong…” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek “You're my little warrior. I know you're tired, I know, but you'll rest soon love, one last effort and we can hug our baby okay? Take some deep breaths, can you do it for me baby?”.

You nodded, starting to take deep breaths with him.

When it came time to push again, you really thought you were going to die, a searing pain that felt like it was cutting you in two.

“Very good Y/N, you are amazing, I can see your baby’s little head, we are almost there!” the gynecologist exclaimed “A couple more pushes.”

“You're doing so well baby, I'm so proud of you, one last effort,” Jay said, staring straight ahead as he tried not to pass out at the imagine of the baby’s head coming from inside you.

There was a moment you stopped breathing when your baby was born, the moment you were waiting to hear his cry, which felt like an eternity. It was as if you began to live again when the sound of his crying echoed through the room and you never felt so relieved.

The emotion you felt the moment you first hugged him up was indescribable, a moment that would be etched in your mind for your entire life. You couldn't believe you were finally able to hold him, that he was right there in front of you, healthy and so handsome.

“Our baby,” you whispered, staring at him in awe before returning your eyes to your husband, who, on the other hand, was a walking disaster. He cried all the tears in his system, tears he didn't even know he had and he hadn't felt like this since he saw you walking down the aisle when he was about to marry you.

“Our baby,” he cried, pressing his lips against yours trying to express in that kiss all his gratitude towards you, for giving him the family he had always wanted, a healthy and beautiful son, the love he felt for you.

Jay held you close, his eyes filled with love as he watched the little creature in your arms.

When it was his turn to pick him up he didn't deny he was nervous. He disinfected his hands over and over again, making sure to keep them clean and asking the nurse over and over for reassurance about how he was doing. Of course, he had taken other children in his arms but never so small and his son was so small and fragile he was afraid of accidentally hurting him.

“Hi baby,” Jay greeted his son, who was now stretching in his arms. “You are so handsome buddy, wow, you are definitely a Halstead.”

That comment made you chuckle even though you still felt very weak. You kept watching Jay cuddle your baby in silence until suddenly you broke into a cold sweat.

You brought a hand to your chest, your heart beating so fast it felt like it was about to stop at any moment. You could feel the shortness of breath, your chest rose and fell quickly in an attempt to fill your lungs with air but failing miserably.

Sharp pains ran through your uterus and you couldn't explain why. You were sure what was happening wasn’t normal.

“Jay…” you called him, but your voice was too soft for anyone to hear.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Hey!” Will exclaimed as he looked back at you and noticing the way you were breathing heavily and writhing on the bed. Jay immediately turned to you and his heart nearly stopped in his chest as he saw the state you were in.

Will immediately called for help and nurses quickly arrived, picking up the newborn as Jay was no longer able to hold him.

“What the fuck is going on?! Y/N! Baby!” exclaimed Jay, approaching you but a nurse prevented him, trying to keep him at bay. “Let me go! She's wife! What the hell is going on?!” Jay kept exclaiming loudly.

Will had placed an oxygen mask over your face to help you breathe and his eyes widened as he noticed the huge pool of blood at your belly.

“Call the OR immediately and warn Rhodes we're on our way!” Will ordered under the gaze of his brother who continued to yell at the nurse who prevented him from approaching you.

“Where is my baby?” you whispered, feeling increasingly weak and powerless.

“He's fine, he's safe,” Will reassured you.

“Jay?”.

“I'm here baby, I'm here, it's okay, just hold on for me,” Jay replied quickly and god the relief you felt to hear his voice.

Jay pushed the nurse away, almost making him fall, and ran to your bedside, immediately taking your hand and stroking your hair. “Everything will be fine baby, you'll be fine, don't you dare play tricks on me, you understand me?”.

You wanted to answer but your voice didn’t come out. The lights began to dim, the sounds and noises distant, as you began to drift into shadows and darkness.

“Y/N? Baby? Y/N!” Jay exclaimed in despair when he realized you passed out, no longer responding to any stimulus.

“Jay we need to go to the OR immediately, there's no time to waste,” Will warned after checking your pulse and realizing it was there but it was rather weak. Jay reluctantly let go of your hand and in a hurry they carried you and your bed into the operating room.

Jay walked out of the room, his eyes following you, desperate and in tears.

“Jay what is going on? Where are they taking her?” Kim asked urgently, approaching with the rest of the team when they noticed the commotion that had arisen.

“I…I…” he stammered tearfully, having no idea what the hell had just happened. He was in shock and his mind kept racing on possible scenarios.

“Jay, man, it's okay, take a deep breath,” Kevin walked over to him placing his hands on his shoulders. “What happened?”.

“They're taking her to the OR… She was fine and then she started bleeding… I… I didn't even realize she was feeling bad…” he cried, as the image of you immersed in a puddle of your own blood gasping for air gripped his mind.

“Will! Where is she? Is she okay?”.

Jay was in the waiting room with the rest of the team supporting him. Will joined him, his heart in a vise as he saw the state of anxiety and concern his brother was in.

“Rhodes is still operating her, she lost too much blood but they gave her transfusions and managed to stabilize her,” Will explained “She went into cardiac arrest but they managed to revive her.”

“What? Cardiac arrest?” Jay asked shocked. It couldn't be true, it must all be a nightmare.

How was it possible that you had just given birth to your baby and were now in the operating room fighting for your life.

“Due to the copious bleeding, her blood pressure was very low and the values plummeted. But she's stable now Jay, do you hear me? They pinpointed the source of the bleeding and stopped it.”

“But what happened? Why did she start bleeding? I swear if it was the gynecologist's fault I'll kill that bitch!” Jay exclaimed angrily.

“No Jay, it's not her fault, no one could’ve predicted it, there was a laceration of the birth canal, it's a complication that unfortunately can happen.”

Jay ran his hands over his face in frustration, feeling distract by everything that was going on. He pulled away feeling suddenly overwhelmed by events, as if he was losing every ounce of strength.

“Jay, listen to me brother,” Will joined him then placing a hand on his shoulder “Y/N is strong, she'll make it, you know she's in good hands. How about I walk you to the maternity ward to go meet little Halstead and I’ll go back to the OR? I will update you on everything that happens.”

Jay felt terribly guilty about what had happened because he felt like he had abandoned his son when he needed him instead.

“Hey little man” Jay whispered after picking up his son “I am so sorry I disappeared so suddenly but mum has been feeling unwell and I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

He tried to hold back the tears, still praying with every fiber of his being for your recovery.

“She'll be fine I'm sure, your uncle Will is with her now and he'll be back soon okay?” he kept cradling his baby gently in his arms, never taking his eyes off him for even a second.

“You and mom are my life you know that right? The best thing that ever happened to me, seriously buddy I don't know how I would’ve ended if I hadn't met your mum,” he spoke, as if little Halstead could understand him “I still remember when I first met her: it was a rather particular first meeting because it was when in a moment of distraction, at a traffic light, she rear-ended me with the car. She's always been so clumsy, I hope you don't get that from her,” he chuckled “Anyway, she had rear-ended me, she got out of the car and started apologizing furiously, wrote her name and number on a piece of paper telling me she would pay every cent of the damage. I wasn't even mad, God, she was so beautiful, the way she babbled and stuttered, I think I was captivated by her from the start. I didn't care about my car, I just wanted to see her again and that's why I called her back the next day with the excuse of an agreement. I asked her out that same day and well… the rest is history,” he smiled as his mind replayed the memories of your first date, of the first moments you spent together, “I understood right away I was going to marry that woman, that I would’ve never been able to even look at another person who wasn't her. I don't know what she did to me, but dear god, I still love her like I did many years ago and now you're here little one… Shit, I don't think I could be happier than this…”

He took a moment to look at his son, to admire the creature you and him created together..

When he met you never in his life he would’ve thought of loving someone as much as he loved you, he thought his heart would not have been able to welcome another love but, God, seeing that little angel in his arms, his son, he felt completely overwhelmed by the love that little boy only a few hours old had made him feel.

“I already love you so much buddy, more than anything in the world and I swear I will give my life to protect you and your mommy, to keep you safe from this sometimes so cruel world,” he whispered “Don't say mom I said a bad word in front of you or she'll kill me,” he giggled, sniffling as he continued to cry. “You know, you're so lucky to have a mom like her. She is the kindest, purest, most selfless person I've ever met in my life, and I already know she’ll give all of herself to make you happy. It will be a bit tough, I won't deny it, there will be misunderstandings and I ask your forgiveness for when this will happen. Parents aren't perfect, damn little man, mine were the furthest thing from perfect, but never forget we love you more than our own lives, that nothing will ever be more important than you, and that everything we do, even if you disagree with us, will be for your good. I promise I’ll try so hard to be the father that mine wasn’t for me and I’m sorry for when I’ll be wrong, I hope you��ll be able to understand my love.”

“Oh my baby I need your mom so much now…” he continued in a sigh that ended in a sob. He felt a void so deep and painful, a void only you could fill. Jay couldn't exist in a world where you weren't in, a world where he was supposed to get up in the morning and you weren't lying asleep next to him. You were the only person in the world who really knew him, who knew his secrets, his deepest fears, you were the only person who made him happy, who could understand his moods with just a glance, the only one who could pick up his pieces and put them back together when the world seemed to tear him apart.

Jay spent the next two hours with his son, feeding him with the nurses’ help while Will updated him every twenty minutes on the progress of your surgery.

“Jay,” Will called back to his brother who was sitting next to his son’s crib, “The surgery is over, everything went well.”

Jay almost had a heart attack with joy, and taken by the impetus of the moment he ran to his brother and gave him a warm hug. Will smiled and returned that hug.

“Where is she? Is she fine? When can we see her?” he asked frantically.

“You couldn't, but I know nothing and no one is going to stop you so you go but only for ten minutes, am I understood?”.

He nodded, a toothy smile plastered on his face. “I promise.”

“I'll take care of him,” Will answered the unspoken question of his brother, who kept alternating his gaze between his child and Will.

“Don't you dare leave him alone okay?”.

“Don’t you know me at all brother? Now go, I want to spend some time alone with my beautiful little nephew, I haven't had the chance to say hello yet.”

“Thank you so much Will, you’re the best.”

You tried to open your eyes but the blinding light of the room forced you to close them.

It took you some time before they got used to it while instead your mind retraced the events that happened.

You felt groggy from the anesthesia and medications so it took you a while to realize you were in a hospital room.

What happened?

I gave birth.

Where is my baby? Is he fine?

You tried to lift yourself up, failing miserably when you felt a sharp pain go through your abdomen.

“No, no, no, stay still baby don't try to get up,” you felt someone caressing your arms and a voice that you immediately recognized belonged to your husband. You turned your head towards him and it was so nice to see him again.

“What happened? Where is my baby? Tell me he's okay.”

Jay hugged you, being careful not to hurt you or put too much weight on you. “He's fine, he's with Will now,” Jay explained in a low voice “I was so scared Y/N.”

You hugged him back, inhaling his scent deeply.

“You had an uterine hemorrhage… You had a surgery…” he continued but suddenly stopped. You were about to speak when you heard a soft sob and at that point you realized he was crying.

“Hey, hey, baby, look at me,” you whispered, pulling away from the hug only to then gently place your hands on his face now streaked with tears, “I'm fine my love, everything was fine. Please don't cry.”

“I was so scared of losing you,” he whispered “I don't know what I would’ve done without you…”

You kissed him, pressing your lips against his in a kiss with which you tried to express all the love you felt for him and to calm him down.

“You will never get rid of me Mr. Halstead.”

He giggled through tears. “Don't even joking about that Mrs Halstead, I can't even imagine living in a world where you are not in. Don't ever do that to me again do you hear me? You made me worry to death.

“Okay, I'll try not to bleed out next time,” you laughed, but a twinge of pain made you stop. “Damn it hurts.”

“I'm sorry baby,” he kissed your forehead, stroking your hair as he did “You were so strong today my little warrior, try to rest now you deserve it.”

“I want to see my baby, can you bring him here?”.

“Sure love, I'll tell Will.”

You began to cry when you picked up your son, venting all the fear, tension and worry that had overwhelmed you that day. Nonetheless, however, it was worth it. All the morning sickness, the sleepless nights, the perennial back pain, the wrenching and debilitating contractions, you would’ve done it all over again just to be able to see that little face again for the first time.

After Will said goodbye and left you and Jay alone, he sat on the bed right next to you, grinning like an idiot as he saw his son's mother and his baby together. God, he couldn't have made a better choice for the mother oh his kids.

“Look at him baby, he's so handsome,” you whispered, still looking at your little boy.

Jay put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he planted a kiss on the top of your head. “He got it from his mom.”

He brought his free hand close to the little ones of his child and his heart exploded with joy when that little hand grabbed his index finger, squeezing it.

“Thank you for giving me the best gift I could ever ask for, I love you so much baby,” Jay spoke softly, promising himself he would do everything in his power to return this gift and love you with everything he had but also realizing not even a lifetime would be enough to make up for the blessing you gave him. A family.

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