#they lean in for a kiss but their visors bump into each other

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Shut Up and Kiss Me | Jeon Jungkook One Shot

Summary: You've been Jungkook's best friend for literal decades but what happens when it turns out he wants to be more than just friends... Pariring: Backup Dancer Reader x Idol Jungkook (f2l they're honestly crackheads I love them) Word Count: 13.4k (Daym 😂) Warnings: Explicit language and sexual content yup that's it haha a/n: I got way too carried away with this but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. Let me know what you guys think! Also barely edited but that's pretty much the usual here lol Requested by an anon 💜

"Alright ladies that's a wrap!" the lead choreographer calls out. "Thank you all so much for your hard work these past few weeks. I know this is going to be a comeback that'll go down in history!" he continues and we give ourselves a round of applause before I head over and get my dance bag and get ready to go.

"Someone's eager to get out of here" my best friend/roommate Nari teases. "I already told you I'm headed home for the weekend" I say, sitting down and changing my dance shoes into my sneakers. "Oh right, you should go see your in laws too" she teases, bumping her shoulder against mine while she does the same.

"Hey not so loud! Not everyone knows that Jungkook and I are close like that and I'd like to keep it that way. Plus we're just friends alright" I scold, looking around to see if anyone had caught wind of what she'd said. "I never said anything about Jungkook, you did" she says leaving me biting my tongue and realizing that I risked outing myself all on my own.

"I hate you" I huff and stand up to go but she grabs onto my pant leg to stop me. "No you don't" she laughs. "Be sure to bring back some of your mom's cooking" she reminds me leaving me rolling my eyes at her. "Yeah yeah I know, I'll see you later alright" I say, grabbing my bag and putting the strap around my shoulder while she waves goodbye and starts talking to some of the other dancers.

~~~~~

Walking down the hall I happen to run into Jungkook and Taehyung walking down the hall and I bow politely at both of them and they do so as well before passing each other by. "Check your phone" Jungkook whispers and I nod my head, not turning around in an effort to not cause suspicions.

"Wait is that her?" I hear Taehyung say as they walk away and all I hear moments later is Taehyung crying out in pain when I walk through the elevator doors. Turning back around, now facing them again Jungkook gives me a nervous smile and I laugh in return before leaning over towards the key panel and pressing G for garage.

Stepping out of the elevator and walking up to my car I get an all too familiar chime on my phone signaling a new message and smile once I unlock my phone.

'Working hard today? ' Jungkook sends.

'Don't I always work hard? ' I reply, putting on my seatbelt and starting up the car, making my way to the exit, my drive only being about ten minutes away to my apartment.

'Yeah your cheeks just looked extra flushed and your hair was a mess.'  he teases, making me open my mirror on the sun visor, checking my hair at the red light, seeing nothing a miss with my hair but taking note of those flushed cheeks he mentioned.

'Whatever Jeon. After having seen you walking around with Taehyung definitely brought you down a few points. That man is gorgeous!'  I throw back, knowinghow pouty he gets when I compliment his members. Or anyone else for that matter.

'Hey leave him out of this! I thought I looked pretty handsome today though...guess my efforts were in vein'  he send and I can just imagine the facial expression he's making.

'You did look handsome Jeon but stop fishing for compliments, it doesn't suit you'  I send back, complimenting him while also reprimanding him, a skill I've used time and time again when it comes to him.

Minutes later I pull into my parking spot at the apartments, quickly running upstairs to take a shower and get ready to head out, all the while Jungkook and I have been exchanging messages back and forth, well apart from me being in the shower of course.

As I put the finishing touches on my makeup and check out my outfit one last time I see an incoming FaceTime call from none other than the man himself.

"Hey!" I say, propping the phone up and walking around my room to gather up any last minute things.

"Hey! You look nice, well compared to earlier today" he says, his nose scrunching up, amused by his own words leaving me scoffing at him. "Where are you headed?" he ask seeing as I won't dignify his earlier words with a response.

"I'm about to head out to Busan to see my parents. I haven't been there for a while and my mom has been begging me to come visit for a while now. You know she's still mad at you for stealing me away from them on my birthday right?" I laugh, remembering the look on my mom's face as he was tugging me out the door.

"Yeah but we had fun right? Remind me to apologize next time I see her" he says, rubbing the back of his neck and I laugh at the bashful mannerism.

We continue on our conversation for a while and only when I hear another voice coming in on Jungkook's side do I remember that I've gotta get going.

"Hey! Why are you hiding in here? Our break was over ages ago and we need you to come record some more backing vocals" the voice I can now identify as Jimin scolds getting clearer as he no doubt comes closer.

"I'll be out there in a minute just lemme finish up this call" he says and tries to angle the phone away from Jimin to hide who he's talking to.

"Who's that?" he asks and I can see a slight flush of color bloom on Jungkook's cheeks leaving Jimin laughing when he realizes who it is. "Hi y/n!" he calls out and I laugh after seeing Jungkook roll his eyes at him.

Jimin and I met a while ago when he found out Jungkook was going to Busan and wanted to tag along, not having realized that I was doing the same thing.

"Hi Jimin!" I say happily and Jungkook sends me a quick glare through the phone. "Let's all go out soon! It feels like we haven't seen each other in ages!" he calls out and at that Jungkook starts to shoo him out.

"Alright hyung give me two minutes and I'll be right out" he says, giving him a look telling him to get out or suffer the consequences.

"Bye y/n!" he giggles and I return it saying a quick goodbye and acknowledging his invitation as well. "Bye Jimin! Time and place and I'll be there!" I finish off and he says goodbye one last time before I hear what I can assume is a door closing behind him.

"I should probably get going" I say, picking my up bag and grabbing the phone as well, glancing around one last time before putting my shoes on and walking out to the car. "Are you driving?" he questions and I confirm it as I unlock the doors and get inside, setting my phone in the dashboard mount.

"Drive safe alright! I heard it might get a little stormy out there so be careful" he warns and I nod my head while putting my seatbelt on, smiling at his slightly worried expression. "And how might you know that already?" I tease, surprised at how he could've checked since this is the first time we've spoken about this trip.

"My mom called me to complain about the weather the other day" he groans, rubbing his temple almost as if he was having flashbacks of what looks to have been a not so pleasant conversation.

"Maybe I should stop by? It's been a while since I've seen them" I suggest, remembering how Nari teased me about it earlier. "Sure! I'll let her know that you'll be there for a few days" he says and I nod while turning on the car and pulling out onto the road.

"You should probably get going too though right?" I question, laughing at the fact that he looks as though he's making himself more comfortable on the couch he's sitting on instead of making moves to head out. "Nah I should be good for another ten, they've probably moved onto the next member by now" he yawns and I laugh at his carefree nature.

"Don't you guys have a comeback coming up?" I question, trying to remind him of the responsibility he has to his team. "It's just a single so ten more minutes won't hurt" he winks making me clear my throat and focus more on the road.

We continue our conversation for that ten minutes he was sure he would be afforded before the next member comes in and scolds him, this time being Taehyung. "Who are you talking to?" is all he says before Jungkook says a quick goodbye and hangs up the call. "That man really wants to keep me away from Taehyung" I say out loud, shaking my head at his panicked expression.

Although Jungkook and I work in the same industry he still likes to hide our friendship from the rest of the company and the public in general. He's an idol and I know he wants to protect me but it's still makes me a little sad that I'm not able to meet the rest of his members, or at least not officially.

I've seen them all in passing throughout the building as I'm hired to be a backup dancer in most comebacks but I have yet to be included in one for BTS. I know it's probably for that same reason of him wanting to keep me safe but I wish he wouldn't. 

I want the both of us to work freely and when possible to work together but I'll respect his wishes no matter what. At the end of the day he's the one that'll pay the price if rumors about us were to spread.

He's my best friend and I don't want anything to happen to him so if having our friendship be a secret is the way to protect him then I'll do everything I can to make sure it stays that way.

~~~~~~

As I pull up to my parent's house I see my mom eagerly waiting for me with the front door open and waving for me to come inside.

"Hurry up it's freezing out there, you'll catch a cold from that rain" she call out when I open my car door. "Nice to see you too mom" I chuckle and once I get inside she's already helping me get my rain jacket off. "Let's get out out of these wet clothes right away, I don't want you to spend what little time you have here coughing up a storm" she nags.

Always the charmer that one.

I know she means well but I just wish she would stop worrying so much. I'm a grown woman I can take care of myself. Before I'm even able to say hello to my father she's already rushing me to go into my room and get changed. "Hurry up and get dressed! Dinner's gonna be ready soon" she says while turning around and heading back into the kitchen to finish everything up.

Walking into my childhood bedroom always hits me with a wave of nostalgia especially when I see all of the pictures I have in here. Pictures as me growing up throughout the ages and noticing how Jungkook is in almost every one of them, always making me smile.

We've known each other ever since he moved into the neighborhood. We were about five years old back then and here we are, twenty five years old and our friendship is stronger than ever. 

We met one day on the playground at recess when he was drawing pictures with the sidewalk chalk and I had been playing hopscotch with some of the girls in my class not too far away.

I walked up to him because I noticed he had been all by himself and I wanted to see if he wanted to play with us. He said no because he wanted to keep drawing and so I sat and watched him for a while until I asked him about what he was drawing and from that moment on we became best friends.

We would take the bus home together and take turns going to each other's houses after school and it felt as though my day never felt fully complete if I didn't see him at least once.

We were about eleven years old when he told me he wanted to be a singer and from that day I was his number one fan. Always encouraging him to sign up for talent shows at school and listening to him sing when he wanted to show me a new song he learned and that's also when I started to find my love for dance.

I couldn't really sing, well I could never sing as well as he could so I decided to start dancing. He would sing and I would come up with random routines and it would go round and round like that.

I did it mostly to make him laugh but soon he wanted to join in with me and so we became a duo. We didn't perform for anyone other than our parents when they begged us to so it was almost as if it was our little secret. Just something for the two of us.

When he heard about the show Superstar K having auditions I was the first one to tell him he should try out. He wanted us to audition together but I reminded him that he was the one who could sing. He wanted me to learn but I told him this was his moment and he needed to do it on his own.

I knew from a young age that he was going to be something special and I wasn't going to get in the way of that.

I went with him to the audition and he did amazing but he didn't make it. He didn't have the confidence in himself but I knew that if he just tried his hardest that even if he didn't make it into the show it would still put eyes on him.

When he finished his audition I saw the amount of people coming to give him offers. Seven companies wanted him to audition and I couldn't have been prouder of him!

"How do I even start to figure out which one to choose?" he complained as he shuffled through all the business cards he had been given. "Well take a look at the artists they have under their label, that might be a good place to start" I suggested and that night the two of us spent hours looking up and listening to track after track from all the different groups until our brains hurt.

"This is gonna take forever" he groaned, plopping down on his bed, exhausted after a full day of it and I can't deny that I was feeling the same way. "How about this" I say gathering all the cards up into a stack and fanning them out with the company names faced down so neither of us could see.

"Pick a card, any card" I joked and he chuckles before finally grabbing one and putting it to his chest, not daring to look just yet. I stand next to him and we both take a big breath in and out before he reveals it and the words of what would end up being his future stared us right in the face.

"Big Hit?" he questions having sounded out the english words clumsily, "What does that mean?" he asks, looking over at me like I have all the answers and luckily this time I did. "It means like really popular, like if a song comes out and everyone likes it and they always play it on the radio or something then it's a big hit" I explain and he watches me with those adorable doe eye taking in each and every word.

"So if I want to be a big hit then that means that starting with this label would be a good idea right?" he asks, tilting his head, awaiting my approval. "I mean you would think so right?" I respond and that was the last push he needed to go ahead and audition. 

And thanks to our little nonsensical way of going about choosing he really did become a big hit. It took some time and a lot of effort but he made it!

"Y/n! Dinner!" my mother yells, breaking me out of my walk down memory lane. "I'll be out in a sec!" I yell back and pull off my damp shirt and replace it with a hoodie, which ironically ends up being one that Jungkook let me "borrow" even though he knew he was never gonna get it back.

"Come on y/n it's getting cold" she yells again and I have to shake my head, trying to physically will myself to stop thinking about him now but it's hard not to. Everything about this house reminds me of him, and I like it that way.

~~~~

After dinner and being bombarded with question after question about my life and job and everything the conversation somehow circles back to Jungkook. "How's he doing? He's become such a handsome young man hasn't he?" she says, elbowing my father who gives a slight grunt of approval having been focused on the tv watching some sort of sports game.

"He's alright. I saw him at work when I was leaving and then we talked on the phone a bit while I was packing up to come here" I say and her eyes light up at that fact. "Sounds like you two are still close huh?" she says in a knowing way which makes me groan. "Come on mom you know it's not like that. Jungkook is my friend" I say, taking a drink of water.

"Yeah but friends can become...friendlier" she teases making me choke on my water. "You okay sweetie?" my dad asks, now having turn his attention back to me during the commercial break. "Yeah mom is just teasing me about Jungkook again" I say, taking the napkin he's offered me.

"Well he is a fine young man y/n. Are you guys still close?" he asks and I face palm, both of them being a carbon copy of the other when it comes to him. "Yes dad we're still best friends. Are we done here? I would prefer to keep the interrogation to a minimum while I'm here" I say pushing my chair out and starting to clear the dishes away.

"Oh you know we're just joking. It's nice to see that you're still friends though, regardless of anything else" my mom says while bumping my shoulder just like Nari had. "Me too" I mumble and think about all the memories we've made together since I moved to Seoul.

With all that distance between us while I was living in Busan and even with him being caught up in the whirlwind that is the music industry we never lost touch.

There were times where his responses would be a bit sporadic but it would always be around comeback time when that would happen or sometimes at odd hours while he was on tour but we never went more than a few days without exchanging at least a message or two.

He made that promise to me the day he went to Seoul.

He promised me we would never lose touch and that we would always be there for each other and to this day we've never faltered. I know he's someone I can count on and he sure as hell can count on me too. It's us against the world. It always has been and it always will be.

~~~~

Finishing up the night spending some quality time with my parents was just what I needed. Even with all the prodding and teasing and interrogations it was still something that healed a part of me that I tended to overlook.

I've felt homesick since I left to Seoul and coming back here just makes it even more apparent so that's what keeps me away. I try to convince myself that the longer I stay away from home the better I'll start to feel but that never works. The only thing that does the trick is when I spend time with him.

Jungkook has become my little home away from home and whenever I'm with him that melancholy feeling tends to fade away and I can never thank him enough. I've never told him that but I hope that in some way I could be that for him too.

~~~~

When I wake up in the morning I text Jungkook and ask him if his mom said it would be alright for me to come over and he surprisingly answers right away.

'Yeah she said she'd love to have you and said that sometime this evening would work well'  He relays so I make a mental note of it and spend the rest of the morning and afternoon with my parents before I head out to the Jeon's.

"Tell them we say hello and don't forget to give her the tea that I gave you, and try not to stay out too late, there's a storm coming in and you don't wanna get caught out in it" she calls out to me while I walk to my car. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way home" I say and give her one last wave before getting in the car and taking off.

When I reach their house I'm surprised to see a big black van outside the house but nonetheless walk up to the door anyways and ring the doorbell.

"You're here!" I'm met with a comfy looking Jungkook in a matching grey sweatsuit with a smile painted on his face. "What are you doing here?" I ask, giving him a huge hug right away. It feels like it's been ages since I've actually been able to be this close to him. 

"When I heard you were coming home this weekend I realized that I should come too since I had the whole weekend off" he says, swaying as he hugs me and props his head on top of mine.

"You could've told me! I wouldn't have minded waiting to come up today" I say and he shakes his head chuckling at the suggestion. "And risk making your mom mad at me again? No thanks. Plus it wouldn't have been a surprise if I told you" he says and I lean back to look up at him.

"You know I hate surprises" I say, furrowing my brow and he pokes me in the forehead to make me stop. "Your adorable reaction says otherwise" he teases and at that his mother walks towards us. "Jungkook I told you to let her in, not make her stand in the entryway. Y/n it's so good to see you" she says giving me a big hug and dragging me further into the house.

"Would you like any coffee or tea? It's freezing out there" she says, wrapping her cardigan around herself in an effort to keep out the cold. "Tea would be great, which reminds me my mother told me to bring this to you" I say, handing her the jar of honey yuzu tea.

"Oh we had talked about this the other day! Thank you so much, why don't you go ahead and join the others and I'll bring it out to you in a minute" she says and scurries off to the kitchen. 

"Others?" I ask, turning to face Jungkook who had been trailing behind us. "You'll see" he says with a devious smile and leads me towards the growing noises of a conversation being had in the other room.

"Aye what took you so long?" Jimin says, standing up and giving me a huge hug making Jungkook have to step to the side to avoid being knocked over. "I didn't know that you guys were gonna be here otherwise I would've come sooner" I laugh and Jungkook taps Jimin twice on the shoulder as a clear sign for him to let go.

"Try not to smother her, she wasn't expecting to see any of us" he says making Jimin pull away and give him a wary look that I can't really read but I go on to look around the rest of the room and am met with six more pairs of eyes.

"Oh, um hello" I say as I look around the room and see the rest of the members seated around the room who had been visiting with Mr. Jeon.

"It's been a while hasn't it?" Mr. Jeon says warmly and gives me a gentle embrace. "It has. I'm sorry, I don't come home often and when I do my mom holds me hostage" I admit and him as well as all the guys watching us laugh making me recoil a bit from the unexpected attention and end up bumping into Jungkook's chest.

"Well I'll let you young people have your fun" he says and places a hand on Jungkook's shoulder before making his way into the kitchen to be with his wife.

"You alright?" Jungkook asks and I look up at him and nod, my breathing having gone shallow from our close proximity with my back still against his chest along the 6 person audience we now have. "Just take a deep breath. They'll love you I promise" he whispers and he guides me in the rest of the way and begins introducing me.

"Guys this is y/n, y/n these are my members" he says and is quickly cut off with an arm being thrown around his neck. "Aye! Aren't we more than just your members? I thought I raised you better than that" Jin says while ruffling Jungkook's already fluffy hair.

"Alright, alright get off me" Jungkook groans as he shoves Jin off playfully. "Y/n these are my hyungs" he corrects and at that theres a collective nod amongst the rest. "You already know all of their names so yeah" Jungkook says, scratching the back of his neck and I smile as I see the tips of his ears are getting a bit red.

"Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung I'm one of the backup dancers that HYBE employs every once in a while so I'm pretty familiar with you all or at least I know a lot about you I mean I-" "It's very nice to meet you y/n" Namjoon says, cutting off my nervous rambling right from the start.

"You guys too! Jungkook talks about you all so much that I almost feel like I know you already" I say and they all smile at that. "We feel the same way, Jungkook never shuts up about you" Taehyung says and I can feel Jungkook stiffen behind me and I smile, happy but somehow nervous having learned that information.

"Hyung, a word?" Jungkook says, singling out the one that's closest in age to him and I can see Taehyung's whole body droop before he gets up, realizing the kind of scolding he's bound to get.

Once they leave I'm left with the other five but luckily Jimin is still here so I'm not totally alone. "So y/n Jungkook tells us you've been friends since you were kids right?" Jin asks, starting the conversation off smoothly so as to not put too much pressure on me.

"Yeah! We met when we were about five years old. It really feels like I've know him my whole life" I say, smiling shyly and Jimin takes the initiative of leading me over to sit on one of the arm chairs. "Twenty years is definitely a long time. It's crazy how you guys have been able to stay friends that long with him being an idol and all that" Hoseok says, elbows rested on his knees almost fascinated at the thought.

"Well he made a promise to me before he went to Seoul and promises are very important to us" I say and they all nod, having experienced the same with him since they had known each other for ages already as well. "So you guys are best friends right?" Namjoon asks, leaning forward as well, as if he's working his way up to asking another question.

"I mean yeah, it's kind of embarrassing but besides him and my roommate I don't really have any other friends. Well I mean I have the dancers I work with but they're more colleagues than anything" I relay and they give me a sad smile.

"Yeah that seems to be the case when you work in this industry but hey any friend of Jungkook is a friend of ours as well so you just gained six more friends to add to the list!" Hoseok chimes in.

"Thank you guys that really means a lot to me. I've just been so career minded that I haven't really taken time to make new friends" I say and I'm met with a strong hand on my shoulder making me look up and see a smiling Jungkook looking down at me. "Luckily I'm here though right?" he asks almost as if my words had made him a little insecure.

"Of course! You'll always be my best friend. Nothing and no one will ever change that" I say, placing my hand on top of his and giving it a firm squeeze.

Something Jungkook always seems to need is reassurance about us and that we'll always be together. It might just be because I'm sure he's gained and lost a lot of friends having worked in this industry and seen people's true colors as they started to grow in popularity. 

It's probably hard for him to know who he can and cannot really trust outside of his members.

"Hey what's with that look Jungkook come on sit down there's no need to be so serious" Namjoon says and Hoseok joins in making Jungkook feel a bit more at ease. "Can we sit together?" Jungkook whispers and I nod before getting up and he sits down where I had just been and pulls me down onto his lap.

This isn't an unusual thing between us but from the looks of the six pairs of eyes staring back at us you would think we had done something scandalous.

"Is everything alright guys?" I ask, watching as they collectively start looking back and forth between us before Yoongi chimes in. "Calm down guys they said they're just friends" he says and so eventually the weirdness that had settled in goes away and we continue on throughout the night laughing and talking into the wee hours in the morning.

~~~~

"Is it really already two?" Jimin says and at that I jump. "Wait are you serious? My mom is probably freaking out thinking I got caught out in the storm. I need to get going" I say trying to stand up but I'm stopped with a strong arm around my waist, keeping me in place.

"You mom called my mom a couple of hours ago to make sure you were okay and she told her that you would probably just be staying over tonight because of the storm" he whispers and I shudder at the thought.

Jungkook and I haven't spent the night together since he left for Seoul so the thought of doing it now when I'm sitting on his lap and with his hand dangerously close to crawling under my shirt has me feeling breathless. "Oh okay, but where am I gonna sleep?" I ask and he smiles at that.

"You'll sleep with me in my room, you know, for old times sake" he offers with a shy smile and I nod, nervous but not nervous enough to turn him down. It's Jungkook after all. We're best friends right? Just friends...

~~~~~

"Goodnight guys!" I say after the eight of us have talked for another hour or so, Jungkook following close behind as we make our way upstairs. "Text me if you guys need anything but try not to need me" Jungkook says and I see all of the guys give him a knowing smile besides Jin who has been scandalized by the thought of anything happening but it wasn't something that I had caught onto just yet.

"Behave" is all he says and Jungkook rolls his eyes at him before he rushes me upstairs with Jin scolding him all the way but he's quickly silenced by Yoongi, reminding him that Jungkook's parents are asleep.

"They seem really nice" I say once we've gotten into Jungkook's room. "Yeah they're alright" he says, walking over to his closet and throwing me a tee shirt and a pair of sweats, grabbing the same for himself.

"I'm gonna go use the bathroom unless you want to first?" he asks and I shake my head allowing him to do as he says with him closing the door behind him, leaving me alone in his childhood bedroom just like I had been in mine.

It's been ages since I've been in here, let alone slept in here and I feel as though everything has almost been frozen in time. His mirroring mine with all the pictures his mom and dad had taken of us over the years and even a few of his old drawings he had pinned up on the wall.

I start to get undressed and put on the sweats first and when I'm slipping his shirt over my head his door opens and quickly put it on the rest of the way and hear him start apologizing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I forgot to knock" he says quickly and when I turn around he has both of his hands over his eyes.

"It's alright no big deal" I laugh and he shift from one foot to the other nervously. "Can I open my eyes now?" he asks and I laugh at his almost innocent nature. "Yes you can open your eyes" I say and pinch his side making him flinch. "Hey!" he says and I shush him immediately reminding him of all the sleeping people on the level bellow us.

"No one can hear us from up here you know that" he laughs, reminding me that his parents bedroom as well as everyone else is downstair on the opposite side of the house. The only things upstairs being his older brother's old room and his father's office.

"We should still be quiet" I scold playfully and he takes that as a challenge. "Oh yeah?" he says taking a step towards me and making me take a step back. "Yeah" I say, less confident in my wording than before leaving him lunging at me and tickling me mercilessly to the point where I can't even breathe anymore.

"J-jungkook stop!" I say between painful laugher and he only stops when I start hitting him. "Okay okay. Truce?" he asks, pulling back and holding out his hand to shake. "Truce" I echo, shaking his hand to seal the deal.

We stand there for a second with our hands still connected and swaying them back and forth, neither of us really knowing where to go from here. "We should probably get some sleep" I offer and he nods his head and leads me over to his bed letting me climb in first and him following soon after since his bed and placed against the wall.

"You need anything else? Another pillow? Maybe another blanket?" he asks after we've both settled in. "With the human heater you are? No I'll be fine" I say and he pushes my shoulder a bit me having faced away from him.

I turn around and realize that that might've been my first mistake of many to come.

"Tell me about the comeback you're working on. Have they been nice to you?" he asks, laying on his side facing me, suddenly becoming a bit serious. "Oh, um yeah everyone is really nice and the boys although energetic and goofy have been very professional about it all" I say in reference to the Enhypen comeback I'm working on.

"What's the name of their title track again?" he asks, settling in a bit and moving just a little bit closer, hardly noticeable unless you were fixated on it like I am right now. "Bite Me. You know because their whole back story for the group is Vampires" I say, laughing it off since it could be interpreted in many different ways.

He hums in acknowledgement lost in thought as he glances down at my lips for a second that I nervously bite in response. "It's a partnered dance right? I've heard about it in passing" he asks and I nod my head, "Who are you paired up with?" he asks, tonging his cheek at the thought of it.

"Sunghoon. He's been very quiet and very respectful. If anything I wish he would talk to me a little bit more so we could feel a bit more comfortable with each other but I'm sure we'll get there" I laugh, remembering how he barely spoke to me when we initially got paired up.

"Does he call you Noona?" he asks and I swallow at the thought of him being jealous because if there's one thing I know about Jungkook is that he get's extremely jealous.

"Um, yeah, they all do. You know I don't like keeping that overly formal relationship with anyone so it's been helpful breaking down those walls and a way of treating them as regular guys instead of idols. I think they get enough treatment like that you know?" I ask and he hums in response, not having much more to ask for a few beats.

"How close do you guys get? Like does he put his hands on you?" he asks, clenching his jaw a bit and that's a dead ringer for his jealously growing. "Jungkook this is a part of my job. He doesn't do more than he's supposed to and same with me" I say and I can see how his mood starts to change a bit.

"Hey, what's got you all upset about this?" I ask, not wanting to beat around the bush. I know better and it's best to just confront these things head on. "I just don't like the thought of other guys touching you. I know, I know it's stupid and it shouldn't upset me but it does" he says, flopping down on his back and throwing his arm over his face.

I sit up and turn towards him, pulling his arm off and making him look at me. "Why does it bother you?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why something like this would make him upset.

"Do I really need to spell it out to you?" he says furrowing his brow as if I've done something wrong. "Well obviously you do because I don't understand why you would care about thi-" I start but he cuts me off by pulling my arm and making me fall onto his chest.

"Jungkook I-" "No, don't say anything. Push me away if you don't want this but please don't overthink it" he says, flicking his eyes between my eyes and lips, looking more vulnerable than he ever has.

I hold my breath, taking in what is happening between us and there's nothing inside of me that doesn't want this and he knows that.

We stay there for another second or two until he puts his hand on my neck keeping me in place. "Last chance" he whispers, his breath fanning against my lips and before I can even second guess myself I'm pressing my lips against his.

He keeps one hand on my neck and the other one has found it's way to my hip, trailing up and down my side and eventually grabbing onto my thigh to guide me to straddle him, making the kiss more intense and full of longing.

"We shouldn't be doing this" I say when I break the kiss for a second but he pulls me back in kissing me again in protest. "Shut up" he whispers as a way to remind me to not overthink it.

I run one of my hands through his hair and grip onto the strands wanting to keep him here and never let him go and that sparks a new intensity to the kiss him now flipping us over so I'm now on my back.

I giggle against his lips and he smiles against mine kissing me more and more into a daze, drunk on his lips and the way he's touching me.

His hands become a bit more bold as one stays on my jaw while the other trails up my shirt, keeping a strong hand against my hip squeezing it as a way to tell me he wants more, wants everything I'll give him.

He switched from keeping his hips hovering above me to pressing against mine, chancing a soft grind against them making me whine at the contact making him do it again earning more soft sounds from me.

Soon he grinding into me, his hard on having been brushing against my clit, the friction driving me mad making me breathe out his name when his lips start to trail down my jaw and along my neck, kissing and sucking and biting his way down while his hips never falter.

"Tell me to stop" he says, pulling away and looking down on me, making me furrow my brows in confusion. "Tell me to stop and I will but if I keep going I don't think I'll be able to stop" he says, his lips wet and swollen, his hair a mess and I would be out of my mind if I pushed him away now.

"Don't stop" I say, placing my hand on his neck and guiding him back down to my lips, needing him like I need air and he growls against my lips, his excitement growing ask he slips his hands further up my shirt, now resting on my ribs, so close yet so far from touching me where I want him to.

I whine and he chuckles against my lips before asking me if he can take my shirt off which I answer by sitting up and pulling it off myself leaving him to do the same. My eyes widen seeing his sculpted muscles being a lot more defined than I thought they would be and he smirks once he sees my reaction.

"Like what you see?" he asks and I hit his chest before pulling him back down. "Just shut up and kiss me" I scold and he does just that.

His hands roam the bare skin I've revealed to him and he starts to trail his lips down my neck and onto my chest where he suck marks on it until he's stopped by my bra. He bites it and tugs on a little to gauge my reaction and I arch my back as a wordless plea to take it off which he does immediately.

He curses at the sight of them before looking back up at me. "You're so pretty" he says before pressing his lips up against mine again. his hands finding their way to my breasts first, squeezing them and toying with my nipples granting him more whines when he squeezes a bit too hard.

"You're so good to me" he says trailing his lips down my chest again sucking marks into me as if he way trying to paint me as his own, leaving me with the proof of what we had done together.

When he wraps his lips around my nipple I know that I'm a goner, my whole body on fire and all my senses trained on him.

Watching as his brows furrow in concentration, hearing as he groans against them, giving both of them the same attention making me lose my mind. Still tasting him on my tongue, smelling the minty flavor as he licked it into my mouth. Feeling his hands traveling lower, toying with the drawstring I have tied tight around my waist.

He lets go of my nipple leaving it puffy wet, hardening even more from the cold air reaching it after having been left the warmth of his mouth. "Can I take them off?" he asks and I nod my head but he shakes his. "Use your words" he says, tugging on the string but not enough to untie it.

"Yes Jungkook please" I choke out, my rational brain having been lost a long time ago. "Can I take it all off?" he says toying with the waistband of my under ware as well. "Yes" I say and he smile from not having to prompt me again.

He looks at me for another second and then he busies himself with taking off the last bits of clothing that was hiding me from him.

Once he pulls it all off he curses from being met with my glistening folds and trails his hands up my thighs and looks up at me wordlessly asking for permission. "Touch me Jungkook please, do something" I groan, getting restless with the pace he's going at.

"Patience princess" he taunts and I hold my breath after hearing that pet name roll off his tongue like that. "You gonna be quiet for me?" he asks, trailing his nose against my inner thigh. "I thought you said n-no one could hear us up here" I choke out and he chuckles dryly, surprised I've still got enough of a clear mind to talk back.

"That's true but it depends on where you are in the house. In a perfect world they would all be sound asleep but if someone was to be roaming around, well let's just say it's best if you stay as quiet as you can" he says, blowing cold air onto my center leaving me flinching at the feeling.

"Me? What about y-you?" I stutter and he tilts his head at me. "We both know who the loud one is gonna be" he says now cocking a brow at me, daring me to argue otherwise which I don't leaving him turning his attention back to what he was about to do.

He looks between my folds for a second almost studying it and I groan a bit, embarrassed at the sight but he simply kisses my inner thigh in response. "Everything about you is so pretty even your pretty little pussy. Even better than I thought it would be" he says and before I'm able to react to that he's already put his mouth on me.

Tracing his tongue up and down my folds and sucking on my clit, taking his time and being gentle with me, learning what brings me the most pleasure from the sounds I'm making and the way my thighs start shaking.

"You're so perfect. So pretty and vocal for me" he growls and I moan a his words of praise. He continues his ministrations until my back is arching off the bed and I'm so close to cumming stopping only to praise me again tipping me over.

"There you go, so so good for me" he says, pumping his fingers inside me to fuck me through my high, only stopping when it gets to be too much. "You did so well. So quiet for me, making sure only I could hear you. Making all kinds of soft sounds for me" he praises before kissing me, making me taste myself on his tongue, moaning into his mouth and never wanting to come back to reality.

"You think you can give me another one?" he asks, squeezing my hip and dragging his eyes down my body again. "Yeah" I whisper, watching as his hunger grows. "You gonna let me fuck this pretty little pussy? Been dying to for so long" he says making my eyes widen, realizing that what I heard before wasn't something I made up.

"You've been what?" I ask, getting breathless at the thought of him wanting me like this. "Haven't you figured it out yet? It's been so hard for me to stay away from you. I just didn't realize I had been doing that good of a job" he says and I get even more confused.

"Jungkook what are you trying to say?" I ask, wanting to get a straight answer out of him. "You're really gonna make me say it...Alright" he mutters to himself and I can see how embarrassed he's gotten all of a sudden.

"I know this has kind of been done backwards but I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember and I know love is a strong word and I know now isn't the best time to say something like this but I-" he rambles but I pull him down into a kiss that shows him that I've felt the same way. I've just been too scared to admit it.

"Just fuck me and we'll talk about this later" I say against his lips, breathless from how long that kiss had gone on. "Someone's eager" he teases and I glare at him telling him to get on with it or stop. "Okay okay" he laughs and strips down and lays between my legs.

My eyes widen at the sheer size of him, he's not too big but definitely bigger than I would've thought based on how tight his jeans have been throughout the years. "It's okay I'll make sure it won't hurt" he says nudging his nose against mine.

"Do you trust me?" he asks and I answer 'yes' without any hesitation. "Tap me twice if it gets to be too much" he says and I nod before he's planting his lips against mine while he rubs the tip up and down my folds making me mewl and pull him closer.

He pushes the tip in and it's already got me close to cumming. After everything that's happened today I never thought we would've ended up here. He presses in further and I let out a high pitched whimper and he stops, breaking the kiss.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking down on me, mesmerized by the sight of my flushed cheeks and dilated pupils with the fucked out expression I'm already giving him. "Yes keep going" I pant out and pull him back down into a kiss, trying to muffle my gasps and moans against his lips.

Once he's bottomed out he stops, enjoying to warmth of my walls and grunting when he feels how hard I'm clenching around him. "Fuck, are you alright?" he asks, turning his full attention to me, pushing away his urges and making sure that I'm feeling good too.

"So big, I'm sorry just gimme a sec" I pant and he chuckles, placing a soft pecks on my lips. "We'll take it slow" he says and after a couple more seconds I tell him to move. He slowly pulls out of me the slightest bit and pushes back in, inching further and further out making his thrusts go deeper every time.

"Fuck you're so tight" he grunts, biting my shoulder as a way to drown out some of his sounds of pleasure. He's finally able to pull almost all the way out, leaving just the tip in and he looks down at where we're connected and curses under his breath before he thrusts back inside of me, bottoming out and knocking the air out of my lungs.

He settles into a faster pace than before, growling in my ear how good I'm making him feel. "Fuck I've been dying to do this for so long. You drive me fucking insane, making me feel so fucking good. You're so perfect for me" he says, praising me and driving me utterly speechless, not being able to think straight and the only word that falls from my lips over and over are his name muttered amongst other incoherent noises that only encourage him to keep going.

My walls flutter around him and start getting tighter, a clear sign to him that I'm close and he coaches me through it. "I know, I know" he mutters, his forehead resting up against mine as our breath intermingles, getting closer and closer to that high.

"I can't I can't" I cry out, squeezing around him and making him curse, a few tears streaming down my face "It's okay, you can cum" he says and at that I tip over the edge losing myself and forgetting to be quiet, making him throw a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries.

"S-so close princess" he stutters out and I nod, letting him fuck me through my high and he's cumming soon after, smashing his lips on mine, not trusting himself to muffle his own cries.

He continues doing shallow thrusts into me until he's spent, both of us panting and overstimulated and he pulls out of me making both of us hiss at the feeling before he plops down on his back beside me.

We lay there for a second, catching our breaths and when I glance over at him I realize that he's already been looking at me and without saying a word we both bust out laughing.

"Did that really just happen?" I question, flipping over on my side to face him. "Yeah, um I guess it did" he chuckles nervously, running his fingers through his hair. "What's wrong?" I ask, scared that he might've regretted it. "No nothing's wrong! You're perfect, this was perfect I just feel bad about doing this all wrong" he says, overthinking things just like he told me not to.

"Hey, this is us we're talking about. Nothing ever ends up going the way it's supposed to. I don't regret doing it this way. Do you?" I ask, hoping his answer will be no. "I don't regret it I just wish I could've confessed to you properly. You know, asking you out on a date and all of that stuff" he says, more shy than anything.

"Jungkook we've known each other for twenty years. I think we're past doing things properly. Plus for what it's worth" I pause and whisper in his ear, "I'm in love with you too" I say and the next second I'm back on my back with him on top of me again.

"You're just dying to get fucked again aren't you?" he growls, against my lips making me laugh at his change in demeanor. One second he's a shy insecure Koo and the next he's Jeon Jungkook ready to fuck my brains out. I wouldn't want it any other way though.

"Maybe" I tease and and he trails a hand up and down my inner thigh. "What do you mean maybe? Hmm?" he says trailing kisses down my neck this time leaving big smooches making so much noise with each kiss leaving me writhing around, laughing and trying to push him off from how ticklish it is.

After we've both calmed down he gazes down at me, taking in all my features before gliding his eye down my torso to where we're pressed against each other.

"You ready?" he asks, trailing his finger up and down my slit making me shiver at the process. "Still so wet for me" he groans, kissing me and playing with my clit making me squirm. "Please" I breathe out and he lines back up before looking up at me. I nod my head and he looks back down, pushing just the tip in and noticing how I tense up.

"Still sensitive?" he asks, running a hand up and down my side, giving me kisses trying to make me feel more comfortable. "A little. Just go slow" I say and he nods, pushing into me inch by inch taking care to read my reactions and slow down when my breathing picks up until he's bottomed out.

He kisses me on the forehead and rasps a chant of praises in my ear. "So good for me. You're doing so well. You feel so good. You were made for me" amongst other things that give me a fluttery feeling in my stomach and making me let out breathy moans in response.

"Can I move?" he asks and I take a deep breath before nodding and he takes my words from before so seriously. Rocking his hips back and forth so carefully and making my mind melt, feeling every inch and whining when he hits that spot.

"Right there?" he asks, hitting it again and he takes my gasp for breath as a response, getting high from how good I feel wrapped around him and all the reactions I couldn't hold back even if I tried. This pace feeling more intense, more intimate.

As we reach our highs, one soon after the other I find myself slowly losing consciousness and he kisses me until I fade away, loving how slow and lazy they get as the minutes pass by.

He pulls out of me once I've slowly drifted off leaving me mewling in my sleep making him lose his mind and wanting to go again but he holds himself back and chooses to laugh at how adorable he find me. Lazy and fucked out with a small pout on my lips making him somehow fall even more in love with me.

He knows I should pee but he'll let me rest for a bit, going to the bathroom to clean himself up before coming back to watch me sleep before ultimately cleaning me up, knowing that I'll hate the feeling of waking up messy more than waking up to him taking care of me.

I whine in my sleep when he dabs the warm towel around and on my center, apologizing and doing his best to hurry up but still making sure to be gentle with me. Once he's almost finished is when I finally come to and start to open my sleep ridden eyes.

"I'm sorry I had to wake you but you should really go pee before we go to bed" he says and I hum in agreement, taking a second to wake up before reaching out my hand, a nonverbal plea for him to help me up which he does so graciously.

Luckily he has an ensuite and so I don't have to worry about covering up but I still end up grabbing his shirt and slipping it on before having him help me to the bathroom, legs still feeling wobbly as a result of what he did to me.

He laughs at my efforts and decides to scoop me up instead, plopping me down on my feet and leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him to thankfully grant me some privacy, we're close but not I'll go to the bathroom in front of you close.

I sit down and take a second to clear my head, trying to process everything that just happened.

I just slept with my best friend who has been in love with me for years and I finally admitted to the both of us that I have been too and now...well now what? I take a deep breath and finish up, standing up and flushing to toilet before going to wash my hands, gasping at the sight of my mascara running down my face, it's not a lot but still.

"Why didn't you tell me I looked like this?" I whine, catching him in the middle of changing the sheets. "What's the problem? You look hot" he says nonchalantly. "More like a hot mess" I groan, helping him finish up making the bed.

"The fact that I made sure you look freshly fucked is hot" he says, coming up to me and grabbing me by my hips, pulling me into him and planting a smooch on my pouty lips that I eventually relax and deepen the kiss into a slow sensual one.

"No, not again" I say breaking the kiss and stepping back. "How did you know I was gonna-" "We might not have done this before but that doesn't mean I don't know what you're up to" I say, turning away from him and going back to the bathroom, making sure to sway my hips a little bit to taunt him.

"Keep acting like that and you won't be leaving this room anytime soon" he growls as I slowly close the door leaving it open just enough for me to stick my head out. "Is that a threat?" I ask playfully, loving the reactions I'm getting out of him. "That's a promise princess" he rasps leaving me widening my eyes before closing the door quickly and quietly behind me, still close enough to hear his dry laugh in amusement.

After washing my face and using a new toothbrush I found in his drawer I climb back into bed and he pulls me into him immediately, leaning over me and placing his phone on his bedside table and notice there's somewhat of an unreadable expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask, leaning back to look at him, worried that something might've happened. "Nothings wrong I just think you're gonna get mad at me if I tell you" he says, laying back down and pulling me closer, making it harder for me to look at him but I pull back again.

"Why would I get mad at you?" I ask, now even more suspicious. "A few of the guys heard us" he mumbles and I jump up almost falling out of the bed in the process. "What do you mean a few?" I ask, horrified at the thought. "All of them..." he say, wincing at the thought of my next reaction.

"All of them?!?!? Jungkook you said no one could hear us up hear!" I whisper scream, blushing at the fact that we got found out so easily. "Well everyone but Yoongi. He was the first one to knock out but I'm sure the guys will end up telling him" he relays, mumbling the last part.

"Jungkook" I scold, hitting his chest a few times. "Hey we're adults and we didn't do anything wrong. It's their fault for being perverts" he says, rolling his eyes at the thought.

"What did they hear..." I ask just above a whisper as if the walls had ears. "Nothing too crazy just the bed creaking a bit and some muffled voices" he says and at the I craw under the covers, trying my best to disappear.

"Hey what's the matter" he chuckles trying to pull the blanket off of me but I keep a strong grip on it. "Just leave me here to die" I groan and he laughs again. "Come on it's not that serious" he says, trying to pull them off, this time succeeding.

"Nothing serious? You just told me that your bandmates, that mind you I just met tonight-" "Well technically it was yesterday..." he cuts me off. "Not the point! You're telling me they not only heard us having sex but it was after the both of us swore up and down we were just friends? Jungkook I'm never gonna be able to face them" I say, grabbing a pillow and laying down on my back, burring my face in it.

"Just do it, put me out of my misery" I plead, my voice muffled while I ask him to smother me which he does so for about ten seconds before letting up after I start making noise. "You were really about to kill me weren't you?" I say, sitting back up and hitting him with the pillow before he grabs it and throws it on the other side of the bed and out of reach.

"No...but I do like the idea of breath play" he grins and I tackle him, making him fall on his back and trapping his wrists against the mattress. "This isn't funny Jeon this is serious" I scold and he laughs, enjoying how completely and utterly mortified I am.

"How did they even find out?" I groan, rubbing my temples and sitting back, still straddling his waist. "Taehyung was looking for a bathroom and woke Jimin up to help him find it and when they heard us Jimin woke Hobi up who tried to wake Yoongi up but he just groaned out a cruse leaving Hobi waking Namjoon up who hesitated, but still ended up waking Jin up" he lists off making me cringe more and more as the list goes on.

"That's it, I'm staning Seventeen. My bias is Mingyu and my bias wrecker is Hoshi. Here's my Army card and my light stick" I say, holding out two empty hands and he swats them away, refusing the offer

"Hey! Why out of the thirteen of them does my best friend need to be your bias? Am I not enough?" he pouts. "You're enough but that doesn't mean I can't pick a bias. It's not my fault all your friends are hot" as soon as the words leave my mouth he flips me on my back, glaring at me with a jealousy I've never seen from him.

"Come again?" he growls. "No that's alright, three's good enough for me" I say, teasing him and using an alternate meaning instead. "Ha Ha you're soooo funny" he says with a fake laugh, rolling his eyes at me. 

He gets off and leans up against the headboard, letting out a huge sigh and running his fingers through his hair. "Hey you know I'm just teasing you. You're the only idol, no, the only man I need in my life alright" I say, pulling his face back towards me and kissing him, soft and sweet and he tries to deepen it again but I pull away leaving him groaning at the denial yet again. 

"Nope bed" I say, tapping him twice on the chest and turning around, giving him my back. "Come on please" he whines, cuddling up close and rubbing his already semi hard against me. "I'm tired Jungkook" I say, pushing his hips off of me and he pouts burying his face into my neck. 

"Can I put it in? I won't do anything" he says against my skin, placing a couple kisses here and there leaving me hardly any sanity to say no. "You're into cock warming huh?" I chuckle and he hum in acknowledgment. 

"Come on please" he asks, rubbing it against my ass again until I finally lose the mental battle I'm having. "Fine but I wanna sleep Jeon so no funny business" I say and he quickly takes off the boxers he had thrown on and lifts up the shirt I'm wearing and eases it inside of me, nothing stopping him since I have nothing on underneath. 

I whine a bit at the stretch, this being a different angle than before and he kisses my neck to distract from the pain. Once he's settles in he takes the strong hand he had gripping my hip and slides it up my waist, grabbing one of my boobs and sigh, comfortable and ready to pass out. 

"Who said you could touch me like that too?" I ask and he shushes me and goes quiet, quickly drifting off to sleep. 'This man is unbelievable' I think to myself and try to ease my mind, breathing and trying to distract myself from the fact that I have Jungkook's dick inside of me while he's happily asleep behind me with his big tattooed hand around my breast, occasionally squeezing it in his sleep. 

After coaching myself through it and mentally blocking it all out I eventually drift off to get some well earned rest...

~~~~

"Jungkook, y/n breakfast!" is the next thing I hear, Mrs. Jeon calling us to come down and it takes everything in me to not ignore it and fall back asleep. "Jungkook" I say sleepily, still in a fucked out daze with my senses coming back to me one by one and remembering that I still have his dick buried deep inside me. 

"Jungkook your mom made us breakfast" I mumble out and all I'm left with are his soft snores and his hand squeezing my breast, still very much asleep. I take a deep breath and try to figure out my options here and decide to give him a not so rude awakening, fucking myself back against him leaving him stirring awake, letting out breathy moans still not fully conscious of what's going on. 

Once he starts to come to he slides his hand down to my hip, mumbling my name sleepily against my skin. "You're not playing fair" he says, moaning into my ear and only making me need him even more. "They called for us to come down for breakfast" and at that she echoes what she said before leaving Jungkook groaning, hating the thought of stopping. 

"Be there in a minute" he yells, trying to keep his voice level. "That hurt" I complain, scolding him for yelling in my ear. "You'll get over it" he says and bites down on my neck before gripping my hip again. He takes over, thrusting harder into me leaving me covering my mouth, staying quiet as a mouse knowing that for sure anyone could hear us. 

After both of us have come down from our high Jungkook give my shoulder as kiss and slips out, both of hating the loss of contact but knowing we need to stop. He gets up and brings me a warm damp towel and cleans me up before throwing me some new clothes to change into. 

"Can I borrow a hoodie too?" I ask and he turns around, placing it on the bed next to me. We take turns going into the bathroom and straightening ourselves up and I shrug the hoodie on at the end, throwing the hood up, pulling the drawstrings and tying them tight leaving him laughing at the sight. 

"What?" I ask, glaring at him. "You look ridiculous" he snorts and I roll my eyes leaving the bathroom and going back into his room, "I'd rather look ridiculous than show everyone downstairs what you did to me" I say, plopping down on his bed and waiting for him to put a shirt on although I would very much prefer he didn't. 

"It's fine don't worry about it. All the guys already know" he says, throwing on a hoodie on as well after noticing how cold it is. "Yeah but what about your parents! There's no way in hell I'm letting them see this" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and mentally praying that I'll sink into the floor to avoid this interaction all together. 

"They already know that I've liked you for the longest time so it was only a matter of time until this happened" and my jaw drops at the thought. "Your mom knew too? How many people knew before me" I ask, scared of what the answer might be. "Pretty much everyone that I'm close to. Even your parents knew" he says giving me a crooked smile.

"My parents knew?!?!" I gasp in total disbelief that this is happening. "It's not my fault you're oblivious" he say and I wack him in the arm leaving him laughing at, from his perspective my continued adorable reactions. 

"Let's just go downstairs and have breakfast alright. I promise you everyone knew this was gonna happen and they all have been very supportive of it for the longest time" he says, guiding me up and out of his room. "You know this isn't making me feel any better right?" I pout and his only response is placing a kiss on my lips before running downstairs leaving me behind. 

I take a deep breath and follow slowly behind him into the most embarrassing breakfast I'm sure I'll ever have.

"Good morning sleepy heads" Mrs. Jeon greets us as she places a bowl of strawberries on the table along with the other incredible looking food already set out for us. "Good morning" I say and plop down on the seat next to Jimin and across from Jungkook. 

"Did you guys sleep alright" he asks with a knowing smile leaving me sinking further down on the seat and covering my face. "I don't wanna talk about it" I mumble and he laughs but leaves it at that. It doesn't stop the amused glances from the rest of the group and the not so subtle teasing along with it though. 

"You alright there y/n you look kinda cold" Tae says as I take a drink of water making me choke, Jimin tapping on my back as I cough through it and try to catch my breath. "Yeah just a little" I say and glance over at Jungkook who is clearly loving this. 

He winks at me before reaching for my plate and adding some food to it, knowing what I like and don't like and putting the perfect amount. 

You know, I really am oblivious now that I think about it. He's always done stuff like this and has always taken care of me and wants to make sure I'm okay. I guess I always just chalked it up to friendship but again, I'm clearly just oblivious.

~~~~~

As the breakfast continues it goes from harmless teasing to comfortable conversation and soon we're all getting ready to head off. 

Once Jungkook and I are back upstairs I go into his room with the intention of gathering up my stuff but he has other ideas and presses me against the door, kissing me breathless. 

"Jungkook we need to get going" I groan and he kisses me once more before backing away. "Okay I just can't help it" he says, sad as if he had gotten his gameboy taken away. "I'm sure you'll live" I laugh and he rolls his eyes before getting a bag for me to put my stuff in and making sure I find everything. 

"Here" he says, throwing me my bra he found that had some how ended up the opposite side of the room. "Hey!" I yell and he giggles at my reaction before running out and heading downstairs. 

"Is y/n ready?" Jin asks as he looks back up towards the way that Jungkook had just came from. "Yeah she'll be out in a second" he says and Jin nods before smacking him upside the head. 

"Hey! What was that for?" he yells, making all the guys laugh at the interaction. "I told you to behave yet you did the exact opposite" he scolds, reminding him of the warning he gave us before we went upstairs. 

"Yeah well it kinda just...happened" he says shyly. "Uh huh" Jin says, rolling his eyes at him and walking out the door with a few other members. "I just hope you were careful" Hobi says putting a hand on my shoulder. "Hyung" he whines, dragging the word out leaving Hobi giggling on his way out to the car. 

"You gonna be ready to head out?" Namjoon asks when the others have already placed all of their stuff in the trunk. "Yeah but I'm gonna head back with y/n. I'll have a staff member pick me up from her place later" he says and Namjoon gives him a suspicious look before nodding and heading out as well. 

When Namjoon is just walking out is when I just start coming downstairs. "Oh are you guys all heading out?" I question surprised to see them go so soon. "They're gonna get going but I'm gonna drive back with you. Well as long as that's okay with you?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck again, I swear that's my favorite thing he does. 

"Sure, you can drive back with me" I say giving him a soft smile making him light up. "Awesome! Lemme just go say goodbye to mom" he says hurriedly and rushes to go find them with me following slowly behind. 

"You guys taking off too?" she asks, giving me a hug after letting go of Jungkook. "Yeah I've got a lot of work to do and need to rehearse before I meet up with the artists again this week" I say, pulling back and giving her a soft smile. "Well don't work too hard and make sure to keep an eye on him. And for heavens sake Jungkook ask her on a date already" she teases, whacking Jungkook on the arm. 

"Mom" Jungkook whines and I smile at the interaction. "Don't worry I'll keep him in check" I say and she chuckles while Jungkook glares at me. 

"Where's Mr. Jeon?" I question not seeing him anywhere. "Oh he had some errands to run but I'll let him know that you said goodbye" she says, placing a soft hand on my arm. "Yes please give him my best and thank you so much for everything! Hopefully we'll see each other again soon" I say and she nods and starts to walk us out. 

"I'm sure we will, you've gotta make sure to drag him along with you" she says, whacking him on the arm again leaving him rubbing the area, no doubt a bit sensitive from being thoroughly abused this morning. "I will" I say and we finish up our goodbyes at Jungkook's house and are soon finishing up at my parent's house as well. 

"Ask her out on a date already Jungkook I want some grandkids" my mom not so subtly whispers. "Mom!" I whine, surprised that she would be so bold to say something like that. "Honey you're not slick I promise. I could only imagine the damage that hoodie is hiding under there" she says with a wink. "MOM!" I yell and Jungkook giggles, oh how the turntables have turntabled. 

"Don't worry I've got it all under control" Jungkook says, giving my mom a hug and she's quickly shooing us out, reminding us to drive safe. "Hey toss me the keys" Jungkook says leaving my brows furrowed together but doing so all the same. 

"You wanna drive?" I question and he nods his head happily. "Yeah I don't get to do it often so I like to do it when I can" he explains, sinking down into the driver's seat. "You know that really makes me regret my decision" I say worriedly, doing just the same. "Oh come on I'm a great driver" he says, and I cock a brow at him. "Uh huh" I say, emphasizing each syllable and he rolls his eyes at me, starting the car and backing out of the driveway after we've both put our seatbelts on. 

We wave goodbye to my mom one last time and then we're on our way back to Seoul. 

"You know you better not make me regret this" I warn after we've been driving for a while making him look over at me. "Regret what?" he asks, turning down the music that we've been listening to. "Letting you take my virginity" I say and he swerves slightly. "Hey be careful!" I scold and quickly regains control of himself again. 

"You what? You mean to tell me that a fine ass, driven, mature and independent woman like you was a virgin?" he says, shocked at the thought. "Well it's the fact that I'm so driven and independent that that anything like that was put on the back burner. Plus how am I gonna find a regular guy attractive when I'm surrounded by idols all day?" I say and he sighs and rolls his eyes. 

"Don't get jealous" I taunt. "I'm not jealous!" he refutes. "Oh so you wouldn't care if Taehyung gave me his number?" "He did what?!?!" he says, swerving again when he goes to look at me. "If you're gonna keep doing this when I say the slightest thing then I'm gonna need you to pull over so I can drive" I say while holding onto the handle above the door. 

"It's fine, I'm fine" he says and takes a deep breath, continuing on our drive and the car goes silent for a while. 

"Did he really give you his number?" he mumbles, clearly still jealous. "No, but Hobi added me to the group chat" and he groans at the thought of it. "Great! Now I'm gonna have to pay more attention to what's going on in there" he whines and we continue on our journey laughing and teasing and singing and making fools out of ourselves the whole time. 

I guess some people really are meant to be together. Who knew that that quiet little kid drawing with sidewalk chalk on the playground would be the answer to my forever... 

The End... (lemme know if you guys want an epilogue hehe)

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[spookyrea]

Seems untrue (but I know I do)

Drabble: Woken from a deep sleep by an emergency alert, you and Loki help each other get suited up to save the world.

Loki x gn!Reader

Title from Djo's "Mutual Future (Repeat)"

You awoke to the sound of buildings crumbling. Car horns blared below, creeping up the thirty-seven stories between you and the city street, and FRIDAY’s automated voice declared that you were experiencing a Level Three Domestic Threat.

“All available Avengers personnel please head to your pre-determined muster stations and await further instructions.” After a few more grating sounds from the emergency alarm, FRIDAY restarted her spiel. “Emergency alert, all staff: a Level Three Domestic Threat has touched down in Manhattan. All available Avengers…”

Still sticky with the last cobwebs of sleep, you scrubbed at your eyes without opening them. "Go away."

Loki laughed and kissed your forehead. “Come along, darling. We have a world to save.”

“Level Threes are only regional. At best we have a state to save.”

There was something decidedly more relaxed about him these days. It was as if the knowledge that someone loved him unconditionally had relinquished him from his great insecurity. The feral stray that Thor had dragged in with him a year ago might have snapped or sneered when you looked at him, but now Loki smiled, and sighed, and hauled you out of bed to your feet with only a slight mockery. His mouth curled with a quiet contentment, and he kissed your forehead again.

“How are you already dressed?" You grumbled.

"I'm alert. I don't sleep through Level Three emergency alerts."

Your bedroom was oppressively bright, flooded by the midday sun; a quick glance at your phone told you it was past noon. Sandwiched between the usual deluge of texts and emergency alerts, Natasha had sent you a single message:

 : (

Loki's fingers were cold where they snuck under your top, peeling it over your head before shoving your tac-shirt into your hands. While you worked on pulling your head through the compression fabric, Loki worked the knot in your pyjama shorts loose. You had to lean your weight on his shoulder in order to disentangle your legs, still a little bleary-eyed, before you managed to wriggle your lower half into a pair of cargo pants.

You hummed. “Turn around?”

Loki obliged, already tilting his head to give you better access to his hair. You pulled it out of his face and secured the longest curls – which, following an incident with a fire-breathing cat in Prague, had just recently regrown long enough to tie back – into a low ponytail.

FRIDAY turned the television on for you to a local news broadcast. Cell phone footage showed what appeared to be a giant metal snake winding its way down the streets of New York. You shoved your feet into your boots, which Loki tied magically with a wave of his hand. 

You gaped at him while he opened the door for you. “You could have done that this entire time?”

He shrugged. “I like helping you get dressed. Manually.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, bumping him with your shoulder on the way out. Loki corralled you inside the elevator, then hit the button for your muster stations - you at muster point B on floor twenty, and him at point D in sub-level three. You leaned against the wall and watched him pull his helmet on; this one was quite simple - more a visor than a helmet - and only covered the top half of his face. Two gold plates jutted out beside either cheekbone like blinders, and a third plate cut down the centre of his face, allowing you only a glimpse of his pretty face through the eye slits. Two small, rounded horns curved backwards in a near circle, ending in sharp, mean points.

You flipped one of his leather harness straps so it laid flat against his breastbone. There were six sheaths on the harness, each occupied by a dedicated knife -- except for one. “You’re missing Jawbreaker.”

He made a noncommittal sound and tapped the holster at your hip. “No I’m not.”

“Loki. You need weapons just as much as I do.”

“Yes, but they look so much better on you.” He tightened the wrist strap on his glove. "Regardless, she likes you more."

(She did like you more, but you were starting to suspect that all of Loki’s knives preferred you. You wondered if they were actually sentient, or if his feelings for you were infatuating his poor weapons with you.)

The doors opened to floor twenty; Steve was already waiting beside Natasha and Clint, who looked just as exhausted as you felt. Loki gave your hip a squeeze, then dropped his hand. You kept Jawbreaker.

The doors had almost closed before Loki halted FRIDAY with a shout. You patted your pockets; knives, gloves, comms device... "What did I forget?"

Loki tipped his helmet back. Framed by a tangle of curls and handsomely in love, he crossed the hallway, looped one arm around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss.

(Well, more like he pulled you in to press a grin to your face. He could hardly drop the smile to achieve more than a chaste brush of his mouth over yours.)

When he drew back, he was beaming. “Save the world for me, alright?”

You shoved at his shoulder. “Go.”

You would spend the rest of the day picking through debris, brushing soot and pulverized sheetrock off of your teammates. For all of your complaining about an abrupt wake-up call, the quiet truth was that it never got easier; no matter how many times you stormed a battlefield, you never felt anywhere near confident. You just had to pretend, and hope beyond hope that you would make it in time.

Loki's eyes betrayed a similar anxiety. But then, he had been a warrior once, and a would-be tyrant after, so he steeled himself with a smile that spoke of a thousand battles won and a thousand more to go and pecked the corner of your mouth for luck. Jawbreaker hummed appreciatively at your side.

The elevator doors shut on him, stood at mock attention for Steve's sake, and then he was gone.

Natasha sidled up beside you. “Ew.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s like you’ve domesticated him.”

“Sometimes," Clint supplied, "I wish I could turn off my eyes instead of my ears."

Your chest thrilled, watching the spot where Loki had disappeared, half caught in a daydream where the doors would re-open so he could kiss you one more time. "Let's get this over with," you said breathlessly. "I have a boyfriend to ravish when this is over."

[radio-ghost-cooks]

happy valentine's day!!! @s4turnpunk

hey so for some context for anyone who isn't Joey: we made a character based on the Slab species from Doctor Who and we paired him off with the Stig.

anyway.

tags: oc x stig, stickers, Stickers, those are different tags, it's just so fluffy, italics are thoughts, tw falling from a tree, they're fine, helmet bumping as a kiss

The entire crew was running around like a bunch of headless chickens, scouring high and low in search of the Stig and Stickers. Stickers, who was going to be billed as Stig's cyclist cousin, was somehow just mildly weirder than Stig. Mildly. At least Stickers showed emotions. Stig normally just stood there, and if he wasn't just standing there, he was attacking things. Stickers, on the other hand, was a little ball of energy. And stickers. Somehow, he could make that motorcycle helmet of his seemingly emote just by looking at you in a certain way. At first it freaked some of the crew out, but they got used to it after a while. They were both supposed to be on in half an hour, but they were nowhere to be found. Great. Dandy. Wonderful.

     If the crew had looked about a mile into the woods thay surrounded the test track, they would have found Stig and Stickers with several sheets of star-shaped stickers and a pair of tweezers. But they didn't! The pair were blissfully undisturbed, surrounded by trees. An odd sight to find the Stig in, honestly. This wasn't Stiggy's idea anyway. Stickers had stumbled into a stationary store and made out with about 200 sheets of random stickers and he instisted on decorating Stig's helmet. Had it been anyone other than Stickers, he would have said no (and probably punched the fool brave enough to suggest it). But, it was Stickers.

They aren't really cousins. The fact that Stickers was always introduced as such made them both cringe. What they are is in love. They're also absolute dumbasses. The first time they bumped their helmets together (their version of a kiss), Stig nearly vomited in his helmet out of nerves while Stickers blasted "We Are The Champions" on repeat in his dressing room for the next three hours. Stickers's entire existance was a mystery to everyone including himself, but Stig didn't really care. He just loved Stickers from day one. Now, on day fourty-six, the two of them were sitting across from each other up on a low hanging branch, Stig leaning forward so the shorter racer could carefully apply a black star sticker just under his visor.

    The placement was much more purposeful than it would be if Stickers was decorating one of his own helmets. He just stuck a hodgepodge of things onto it until he ran out of room most of the time. There was still a slight theme to them, but nowhere near as neat as the way he affixed the simple black stickers to Stig's helmet. It was a miracle his hands weren't shaking given how thrilled he was when his boyfriend (his boyfriend!!!!) had agreed to it. Actually, it wasn't Stickers who was shaking at all. It was Stig.

He was wobbling back and forth like crazy, teetering on the branch before letting out a little surprised "eek!" and falling to the ground like a rock. Stickers sat there stunned, just staring at the other driver for a few moments before scrambling down the tree to kneel at his side.

Natutally, Stickers wad in a panic. He hadn't fallen from a particularly low branch; it was certainly high enough to break bones. "Oh," He thought to himself, "OH." It was from high enough to break bones?! This was not good. This was very much not good. It's not like he could just take Stig to a hospital! Who knows what they would do once they got their hands on him?! And first aid? There was no first aid guide for a genetically modified Sla-

Oh.

Stig chose that time to sit up in a flash and put his hands on the sides of his panicked boyfriend's helmet. Like asking him to take a deep breath. Right. He was being entirely unreasonable. They were both indestructable. A little fall wasn't going to hurt.

Stickers chuckled and slinged his arms around Stig's neck, sighing as he calmed down. Stig pulled him in closer and hugged him tight, shoulders drooping and relaxed. Stickers finally got a good look at his handiwork on Stig's helmet. Not too shabby, if he could say so himself.

He gently bumped his helmet into Stig's. "You look good."

Stig bumped back. "So do you."

[erodasfishtacos]

~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

please consider donating to my kofi - my work is FREE and it is a great way to show support!

enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning. 

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing. 

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job,  ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y��bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing  a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

-

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office. 

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention. 

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe. 

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play. 

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

--

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square. 

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code. 

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles. 

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms. 

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob. 

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads. 

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

 “He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.” 

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”  

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

-

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

-

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

 Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him. 

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

--

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor. 

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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[lordabovehelpme]

Lordy!! Congratulations on your milestone, this is absolutely amazing and so well deserved! 🥰 I saw that you had Paz on the list of characters you write for and I thought maybe 143 from the Smut Prompt List (“Bend over and spread your legs”) could be a good fit for him? 👀 Thank you so much for doing this wonderful celebration!! Have a lovely day ♥️

A/n: Dear Lord is this late- but this has slowly brought me out of my writers block! Thank you for your kind words and requesting May! I hope you enjoy!!! :) (I sorta went super unhinged with this one lol)

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ minors dni!!! f! reader, bondage, orgasm denial, handjob, face sitting, helmet sitting?, PIV sex, language, a singular spank

It’s so easy to rile him up. To creep through the cracks of his beskar and beneath the rolling muscles that rumble with strength. To flash a smirk his way and have him falling to his knees.

He’s always in control though. Big hands and even bigger heart pulling moans and mewls from your willing lips. His body a firm presence above you, his gruff voice a grounding anchor, his kisses addictive and pure sin.

His fingers pushing into you, tongue lapping over the skin of your breast, eyes locked onto your face, slack with pleasure, words dripping in praise. There you go mesh’la. So pretty cumming for me.

It’s all too easy for him to overtake your thoughts. To make your worries wash away. To fill your heart with love. To make your soul lift from your body and ground crumble beneath you.

He’s a giver. But you want him to be the receiver.

You had asked, been prepared to beg, “Please Paz, can we try?”

He’d let your words turn over in his head, watching behind his visor as you stared up at him through your lashes. Fuck.

But it was the want, the desire in your eyes that pushed him over the fence.

“Yeah yeah, we can try.”

He’s laid bare, his fists squeeze tight above his head, wrists cuffed to the bed frame, rendering his arms useless. Time has started to run long, to the point where he’s past counting minutes.

But he’s too stubborn. Too headstrong to admit how much he is enjoying this. Too prideful to let you know you’re making his thoughts meld together and teeth grind.

You’re atop him, thighs wide and showing him the glistening curls between them. His tongue swipes over his lip, eyes trained on your hand as it travels up from your navel to your breasts. You pinch your nipple, tugging on it and drawing a gasp from your lips.

His hips buck involuntarily, seeking anything to curb the desperation forming behind his movements. You’ve already made yourself cum once, head thrown back in bliss and only allowing him to watch, testing how far you can push him.

You relish in the way his biceps bunch as his hands pull against their cuffs. His breathing is loud, vocoder like static with each intense exhale. It’s making you feel confident… powerful.

Sliding back, you have to bite your lip as his head notches against your wet core. He groans and his helmet leans back, finding so much relief with a mere kiss of skin. But you want to play this out a little longer, a selfish part of you loving how he’s at your mercy.

You lift your hips and sit on his large thighs, nimble fingers trailing over his chest, leaving his red leaking cock untouched. Your fingers trace along scars and the lines of his body, and as you trail over the large recent gash across his side your eyes soften. Leaning down you press kiss after loving kiss to the healing skin.

Suddenly his breath is caught in his lungs, eyes wide as you kiss others, stripping him bare of any dwindling insecurity. Each loving kiss over torn tissue breaks away his stubbornness, revealing vulnerability that rolls over him in waves, making his skin pucker with goose bumps, and cock fill even harder.

It’s the realization that he’s putting himself completely in your hold, in your hands. He slowly eases into the feeling, into the world of not being in complete control, of letting someone, of letting you take his trust and run with it.

You’ve got him all bare except for the helmet atop his head and he’s never wanted it off more in his entire life. He wants to reach out and bring your lips to his own.

He calls to you, whispering your name with desire, hoping to entice you. Your eyes flicker up from his skin to the dark abyss of his visor, meeting his gaze.

“Kiss me.” It’s firm, he commands it, used to you following his ask. But he realizes his mistake when your lips curl up and you make no move towards him. The soft moment lost behind the mischievous twinkle in your eyes.

“No.”

The number of times you’ve been in his situation, where he’s tied you up and plunged his tongue into your heat just to pull away at the last second, all coming back to him in this exact moment. The times you’ve begged him, pleaded with him to touch you, only to fall on deaf ears.

This is your payback.

The metal cuffs clink together as he pulls, once again testing the strength of them.

Your hands drift to the sides of his helmet, and for a second he lets hope flicker in his heart, thinking you’ll give in, that you were merely teasing him. But it never comes.

You look down at him, hovering over his face, a sultry smile over your face and he knows he’s fucked.

“I’m going to make you beg.”

Shit.

He feels like he’s on fire, nerves alight and dancing as you touch him. You’ve pulled him to the edge, gotten it to the point where his balls start to draw up, only to stop and let the impending orgasm drift away.

His veins pulse, blood thundering in his ears. Your hand wraps around his shaft, pumping and pumping and pumping until he’s whining and something akin to a groan rumbles through his body. But each time you pull away; it’s maddening.

You climb up a little bit to let your soft lips sit against the shaft of him, coating him in your slick and his soul yearns to push into you, to feel the flutter of your walls as you accommodate his size.

“Let me inside, pretty.”

But you only slide against him, letting the tip drag against your clit, pulling soft mewls from your lips.

“Fuck.” He hisses, wrists aching from how hard he’s tugging at the restraints. “Come on mesh’la, you’re so wet. I could slide right in.”

He’s becoming unhinged, you both know it. It’s in his voice, in the waver between each breath, in the needy twitch of his cock.

You smile at him, letting one finger dip into your cunt, pumping a few times before drawing it from your heat. He watches with hungry eyes as you bring the coated finger to the base of his helmet.

“Do you want a taste?”

His heart jumps at the question, helmet nodding quickly, “Fuck, yes.”

His lips part, ready for you to plunge it into his mouth, to taste you since he can’t touch you. His mouth is practically watering as you get closer and closer, and pull back.

“Too bad.”

He growls, he should have known, it was too easy, too fucking simple.

An idea pops into your head because your eyes light up and your smirk grows wider.

Your hips lift and you start to climb up his form. He watches as your thighs jiggle with the movement, tits swinging, your cunt glistening. Maker, he wants to touch you. You climb higher and higher until you’re resting above his visor, looking down at him with that little smirk.

Then you push down and grind into his helmet.

He lets out a roar and the vocoder vibrates beneath you, causing you to whimper. His thoughts switch off, mind focusing on getting to you.

His nostrils flare, mouth parting in hurried breaths, he’s close enough he can smell you.

His legs drive into the mattress, pushing his hips up in an attempt to escape the binds around his wrists. His hands flex and pull and he grows even more feral when you reach down to grab his biceps for stability.

But you don’t stop, dragging your slick heat against the beskar, pushing yourself against him. “Fuck fuck fuck Paz, that feels so good.”

He throws his body weight to the right, hoping the jerk will rip the cuffs off, but they just pull back.

“Hey now, don’t hurt yourself.”

Frustration swells in his soul, making him more desperate. His hands pull hard at the cuffs. Maker, he could kill someone right now.

You lift and he watches helplessly as your hand trails down your body to your pretty little pussy. He watches as you circle your clit, mouth gaping into an “o.” Then you once again, push a single finger in, slowly pulling it out… teasing him.

You’re right above him, inches from his eyes, giving him a full view of your show. He can’t form words, his exhales becoming groans and growls as he pulls against his restraints.

But it’s when you push two fingers in and your slick drips onto his visor that he snaps. His jaw clenches and he pulls with all his strength, eyes locked onto the drop on his helmet. He lets out another booming roar and a loud creak echoes through the room.

Your fingers stop, eyes flickering up to the bed frame as the wood creaks and then snaps beneath the cuffs, letting him free.

“Shit.”

He rises, stomach rolling as he pushes up into a sitting position. “Yeah, shit is right.” You’re wide-eyed and he chuckles, a low deep chuckle, “You had your fun. Now bend over and spread your legs.”

When you don’t move fast enough for his liking, he grabs your hips and flips you onto your stomach. His cuffed hands rise to push his helmet off and when you turn your head to look at him you’re met with two pupils blown wide with lust.

You watch as he takes the cuffs off and delivers a sharp smack to your ass. A whine escapes and his large hands massage the stinging flesh. Instinctively you push back into his loving hold, but it doesn't last for long.

He slams into you, punching up against the soft spot deep inside that makes your eyes cross and breath hitch with a scream. His soul rejoices in being connected to you finally, to finally be able to touch you, to finally be able to pleasure you. There’s no time to recover, he’s too far gone, too far past caring, so he just pistons into you.

Your hands flail around, trying to find anything to grab on to. They fist into the sheets, your mouth falls open with moans and you can feel drool forming at the corner. His name falls like a hymn, repeating and singing to him, “PazPazPazPaz… fuck Paz.” You want to fight it, try to regain the control you once had, but you’re too far gone, too caught up in the feeling, so you just take it.

The room still buzzes with energy, but it’s softer. Maybe it’s because you're tucked into his side, maybe it's because his fingers rub into your hip, maybe it’s because he made you cum more times than you could count.

You turn to look up at him, and the sight makes your heart want to burst. His eyes are closed, caught in between falling asleep and trying to stay awake with you. He looks so peaceful.

Following the intense feeling, you swing one sore leg over his lap to straddle him. Then you take his jaw into your hands, leaning forwards to press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

His lashes flutter open and you’re met with the most beautiful brown eyes in the entire galaxy.

A smile breaks onto your lips and the corners of his eyes crinkle in response, his own telltale sign of a smile. Without saying anything, you press your lips to his and kiss him. He happily obliges.

This one is not the teasing faint press of lips you gave him earlier, or the feral needy ones he gave you, but rather one that speaks volumes. One that checks in with the other, letting one another know you each enjoyed it. One that is slow and yet still so passionate. But most importantly, it's one that blatantly says, “I love you.”

[omgreally]

I’ve been reading mandos intergalactic taxi service and UGH✨💕 the pining and fluff with the intimacy smut is just chefs kiss your writing style is amazing🤌🏽✨ I’ve been in such a Din mood lately, could your write like a confession drabble where the reader and din are pining for each other and din is dropping hints but the reader is like really not a hint taker lol pretty please with a cherry on top 😭💕 smut or fluff your choice I know you’d write it so well!!

BLESS YOUR HEART @liltangerineart and thank you! Next chapter of Taxi Service should be up tomorrow I hope!

In the meantime I hope you like this? Not a confession as such and more, uh, top!Mando than I intended, but he is bad at dropping hints. I like to think he would be very...straightforward 😎

Din Djarin/F!Reader - E - 1624 words - Oblivious!Reader, Infatuated!Din, frustrated yearning, angst and, of course, smut.

It's getting ridiculous.

He is a Mandalorian, one of the most fabled, the most feared warriors in the galaxy. Rumour and danger follow him as he charts a path through the galaxy that blazes bright, leaving behind myth and legend - people whispering things like 'I heard he killed a whole troop with his hands tied' and 'I heard he was eight feet tall, made of steel'.

He is a Mandalorian, who has never had to rely on anybody but himself - and yet here he is, sweating beneath his cowl whenever you brush too close, trying too hard to inhale the scent of you through his helmet's filters, memorizing the sound of your laugh.

It's like he's a foundling again - uncertain, insecure, nervous. And they’re not butterflies in the pit of his stomach - they’re bullets from an ancient slugthrower weapon, and he can taste metal at the back of his tongue whenever he tries to talk to you.

“Do you have someone, back home?” A clumsy overture, as obvious as it is stupid; Din winces beneath the helm but you don’t seem to notice - you just shake your head and shrug.

“No. Just me. I wouldn’t have left otherwise.” Loyal, he thinks, and the bullets in his stomach sting just that little bit harder.

He tries asking you more about yourself. How you became a bounty hunter. How many weapons you’ve handled. The different kinds of ships you’ve flown. Places you’ve been. But you never give up anything truly personal about yourself - you’re a cypher.

Maybe that’s why the Mandalorian finds himself strangely drawn to you.

He doesn’t know how to navigate this - not really. He has no experience with this kind of thing. It’s always been about the next quarry, the next job, and then it was about the kid, and now…

And now he’s stuck.

He wants to hit something, break something, feel the impact of his fists against flesh and bone. He settles for balling them up whenever you’re around, biting his tongue, and waiting til later to jerk himself off in pathetic, clench-jawed silence in the refresher.

“You slept late,” you point out the next morning as he emerges, stiff in more than one way, from his bunk.

“Couldn’t sleep last night,” he says, and he’s so tired, so frustrated that he adds, gruffly: “Bed was too empty.”

“Probably need more pillows,” you muse as you wander off to the kitchenette. “Cup of caf?”

“Extra strong,” he grunts as he leans a shoulder to the wall, and you’re oblivious to his glower.

“Coming right up.” A minute later, you press a mug into his hand. “I’ll leave you to it. No need to go hide, I’ll go find a bulkhead to look at while you take your helmet off.”

You grin at him, and he stares at you. You’re just about to turn away when he reaches up, and you go still, your smile slackening in shock as he thumbs the release latch under his chin.

The helm’s pneumatic seal hisses as it lifts, just enough so he can get the rim of his mug up and to his lips. He takes a long, slow pull, and while his vision is eclipsed by the rim of the helmet at the moment, he knows you haven’t left.

As he expects, you’re still there - staring at him as he lowers his helm back into place. Your mouth is even slightly open - lips parted - and he watches the dart of your tongue as you wet them before swallowing hard.

“I’m just...I’m just gonna,” you say, abortingly, and start to back away. You jump as your shoulder hits the hatchway. Din watches as you turn, hesitate, then hurry away, your shoulders squared defensively as if you can feel the force of his gaze on your back.

Alone, the taste of caf hot and bitter on his tongue, Din Djarin grins.

After that, he starts to notice. He starts to notice how tense you are when he’s close.

At first he’s not sure - but then, once, he deliberately brushes your waist as he moves past you in the cockpit to take the pilot’s seat, and you’re still standing there, frozen, when he glances back at you. You brush it off, but it happens again when you bump into him coming out of the fresher. When he reaches over your head in the kitchenette to fetch a ration bar from a compartment. When you lean over his shoulder to point out the coordinates to a refueling station. When he catches you yawning, falling asleep in the passenger’s seat.

“I’m going to hit my bunk,” you say, rising to your feet, your arms stretched above your head. Din turns slowly, and he catches the glimpse of a sliver of flesh as your shirt rides up. The words escape him before he’s even conscious of their existence.

“Want some company?”

Dank farrik, he’s been dropping hints and touches for ages - and he knows you’re affected by his presence, he’s sure of it now. They might be closer to butterflies for you, but his bullets are bouncing around in his gut right now.

“What?” you ask, half-laughing - as if it’s all some grand joke. “You gotta stop with the innuendo, Mando. I might get the wrong idea.”

“And if it’s not innuendo?” He’s flicked the ship to auto-pilot - on his feet - looming towards you. You’re caught in the hatchway, unable to step backwards to fall down the ladder, unwilling to turn your back. "If you've got the right idea?"

“What?” you repeat - licking your lips again. Your eyes are flicking back and forth from his visor to his hands. It’s almost like you're expecting a fight.

“I want to fuck you.”

The words are matter-of-fact but delivered in a low baritone, a gravelly rasp that lifts the hairs on the back of your neck. You stop breathing for a second - he can see it - and your leg twitches, just half a step backward - but then you swing it forward again, swaying towards him. Like he has you in his gravitational pull.

It’s all Din needs. He closes the distance between you, his gloved hands closing around your biceps, the leather worn and warm through your shirt.

He says your name, once, in a digital growl that curls your toes in your boots. And then it’s like an explosion - it all happens so quickly; there are hands and clothes everywhere and then on the deck, and in the aftermath you are in the Mandalorian’s arms, naked, your legs around his waist as he presses you up against the bulkhead.

His chestplate hits the deck - his flak jacket lifted above his head when you let him stop touching you long enough. You barely have time to appreciate the feel of his naked hands on your skin, cupping your breasts in his broad, smooth palms, thumbing your nipples all-too-briefly before he’s sliding down the zipper of his flight suit and baring a V of muscled flesh all the way to his groin.

“Mando,” you gasp as he frees his cock, as he maneuvers the throbbing, purpled head to drag through your slit. He finds you open and wet, lips parted for him, and he groans as he nudges against your fluttering hole. He doesn't hesitate.

He pushes in slow, for he’s a lot to take, thick and hard and the stretch is almost too much. You whine, your voice high and tight in your throat, and he soothes you with soft little noises and praise that makes you feel light-headed.

“Shhh, that’s it,” “You’re so fucking tight-” “Made to take my cock, mesh’la" and other words you don’t recognize. Eventually, he’s all the way inside you, his pelvis flush to yours, the scratch of hair at his pubic bone pressing into your mound.

You pant in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, a thin resin of sweat risen on your brow. “Move,” you order through clenched teeth, and finally you open your eyes to meet his visor and demand, “Fuck me, Mando.”

And he does - withdrawing his hips from the welcoming cradle of yours, his cock dragging back through you, and you can feel every ridge and vein before he’s spearing back in, jarring your back against the bulkhead. It’s a shock right through your system, and you can feel adrenaline flooding your veins, your blood pumping faster like you’re fighting for your life. You might as well be, for he does it again, and again, and soon he’s setting a punishing pace that hits against something soft and devastating deep inside you.

Your orgasm hits you like a blow you fail to dodge - winding you, knocking the air from your lungs - and for a moment all that matters is the blinding flash of pleasure through your nerves, the rolling wave that makes your cunt flutter in rippling spasms around the pulsing rod of his cock. He pins your hips with another vicious rut of his hips and then he’s coming, too, releasing into the impossible grip of your body, groaning with every spurt of spend he fills you with.

“Fuck,” Din summarizes, once you both can catch your breath - once your legs start to loosen, jelly-weak as he pulls out gently, lowering your feet back to the ground. He’s suddenly nervous - worried he’s fucked this up, done the wrong thing, lost patience and paid for it with your scorn.

But your smile is brilliant as you beam up at him - your face radiant - flushed and sweaty. You are beautiful.

“Next time, don't waste time dropping hints,” you tell him, and then you reassure him with a laugh, and the wonderful feeling of your arms around his neck.

For a while, he just holds you close. And for a while, the bullets in his stomach are gone.

[thefanficmonster]

An Impostor In Love

Sequel to ‘Love For The Faceless’ (’Body Reveal’)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Rae can’t stay mad at her best friends forever. Them being absolutely adorable doesn’t help her ‘pissed off’ act either. Y/N’s outing Corpse like she’s a human lie detector. Corpse is gushing about her every second word that comes out of his mouth. And the rest of the lobby are getting one hell of a kick out of the Among Us romantic comedy - An Impostor In Love

Requested but, once again, not in a typical way. I honestly wasn’t expecting all the positive feedback I got for Love For The Faceless (Body Reveal). I was star-struck! You guys are so amazing I have no words to describe just how much I love you all! Thank you for everything! This story is for all of you 🥰🥰🥰

“Mr. and Mrs. ‘Totally not dating’ have entered the call!“ Sean announces when I hop into the Discord call to play Among Us with the usual gang. I hear Corpse’s laugh from down the hall, bringing a smile to my face.

We’ve gotten used to playing in this arrangement, a few rooms away from each other, ever since we moved in together - Corpse is in his recording room and I am in our shared bedroom. When one dies, they go in the other’s room to troll them. I’m usually the one dead, but that’s besides the point.

“Hi everyone!“ I say in my typical cheery tone before kicking it done a few notches, making it an octave deeper just to say: “Hi Rae.”

The whole lobby laughs, they all know what I’m trying to do here. Everyone’s aware this is the first time Rae is in the same call and lobby as Corpse and I after you-know-which incident. Sure, I’ve been poking sticks at her, waving a white flag and admitting I was wrong several times by now. Who knew my sweetheart best friend could act so cold? I know it’s a front. I know she’s fighting to stay mad. There’s a ton of pressure on her to finally forgive us, but she’s been holding up better than I would be if I were in her situation.

I honestly felt, and still feel, slightly guilty. I know best friends are supposed to tell each other everything. They are supposed to be the first ones to know whatever’s going on in each other’s lives. And I know I broke one of the main rules of friendships, but the decision wasn’t only mine to make. I’m sure she understands where I’m coming from, she’s just giving me and Corpse a hard time.

“Hello, Y/N.” She replies, her tone strictly formal.

“Progress, people! Progress!“ I say joyously, the smile turning into a grin 

“Don’t worry, babe. We’ll get her eventually.“ Corpse reassures me as he’s done for the past week or two. He knew I wasn’t as unbothered by Rae’s anger towards me as I tried to appear - a pro and simultaneously a con of living with someone: they pick up on everything about you. You become as familiar to them as the back of their hand.

“I know, I know.“ I giggle, “She’ll cave.“

“Yeah, good luck with that.“ Rae has dropped the formal tone, now sounding like a stubborn child which is something I’m way more familiar with. I’ve dealt with her tantrums and childish outbursts - I don’t know which number it is, but it’s somewhere in the rule book of friendships - and I at least the approximate meaning behind it. 

Ken puts an end to our friendly, stick-poking, sorta one-sided banter, ushering us to start the game. We all oblige, muting our mics and getting our heads in the game as though we’re about to enter an actual warzone with upmost stealth.

To my dismay, the screen flashes ‘Crewmate’. I head out of cafeteria to do my task in Weapons, staying weary of anyone within my proximity. Once I’m done, I head on down to Shields and complete my task there as well. I cringe when I’m done, knowing my last three tasks are in Electrical. Like, the fuck kind of luck do I have?

I make my way through the halls, running into Sykkuno and we circle around each other a few times to show we’re safe before we each continue our own way. I enter Electrical and.....oh Felix is dead. And oh lookie who’s right there...

I report the body before the impostor can and we all unmute our mics.

“Found him in Electrical.“ I say nonchalantly, “Didn’t see anyone in there though.“ 

“Anyone sus?“ Sean asks

We say our ‘no’s and ‘I don’t know’s and skip the vote. I’m smirking to myself as I head back down to Electrical. Walking in, I see the same person as before - Rae. I stop dead in my tracks and we just stare at each other for a few seconds before she comes towards me, circling me twice, bumping visors with me and venting out of the room.

“You’re welcome.“ I mumble, smiling widely.

I finish my tasks and leave Electrical just as Corpse enters our bedroom, giving me this tired-parent look like he’s half disappointed and half amused. “You just threw the game, didn’t you? Don’t lie.” He raises his eyebrows, fully adopting his parent role.

I giggle, shaking my head, sending him the briefest of glances before my eyes fixate on the screen in utter shock - Sean just killed me. Oh, for fuck’s sake...

“I was gonna come clean eventually, but I guess they won’t hear it from me now.“ I shrug, lifting my laptop and setting it aside so Corpse can join me on the bed. I snuggle up to him immediately, drawn to him as though he’s a human magnet.

“Who was it?“ He asks me, running his hands through my hair in a soothing manner.

I frown, pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes, “Wait, how did you know I threw the game if you don’t know who I threw it for?”

He smirks, shrugging, “I didn’t know. You were smiling downright evilly when I came in so I just assumed.” He boops my nose. “And you ratted yourself out.”

I narrow my eyes at him, blowing some air out my nose - a gesture that has become my only way of showing anger towards him. I literally can’t even voice when I’m upset with him cause the grudge lasts like .5 seconds. I let him get away with more than he should.

Seeing as how I can’t argue to his statement, I lean back into his chest and pull out my phone to pass the time while I pretend to give him the silent treatment. Among my notifications is one for Rae’s stream. I smile and tap it, being taken to her YouTube channel and her live stream.

Just when the stream loads, Rae finds my dead body in Storage.

“Oh, nooooooo! Y/N!“ She wines as she goes over to it, “Sean must’ve killed her.” She reports the body and unmutes herself in game, “The body’s in Storage. I was on my way to call an emergency meeting cause I saw Sean vent in Security.”

“WHAT?!“ Sean exclaims in shock, “I didn’t! Rae’s lying. I swear I didn’t! I wasn’t even in Security!“

“Sean has been following me around this whole time. Just saying.“ Ken joins the discussion, throwing even more suspicion on Sean.

“We gotta vote someone.“ Charlie says, “Might as well be the most sus person at the moment.“

The voting results show all the little astronaut icons on Sean except his which is on Rae. Sean gets launched into space and the game continues. Having muted her mic in-game, Rae speaks up: “Y/N has been avenged. No one kills my best friend.”

I’m staring at my phone screen, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, a huge smile on my face. I take a glance at Corpse out of the corner of my eye and see he’s just as pleasantly surprised as I am.

“For those of you asking if I’m still mad at her and Corpse, the answer’s no. Actually, I think I was never mad. I was just in shock and a little hurt that I wasn’t made aware sooner.“ Rae says as she keeps wandering around the map, “Then I realized not talking to my best friend hurt more than the betrayal, you know. The only reason I still pretend is because it’s really funny to see her trying to soften me up.“ She laughs, “But yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without her or Corpse in my life. I love them both and love them even more together. My best friends are dating, I still can’t wrap my brain around that! They are sooo cute, you guys! I wish they posted more content of them together. I’m literally simping over their relationship! But shh, don’t tell em I said that.”

I laugh, overjoyed by what I just heard. I knew she couldn’t still be mad at us. I know she has every right to be, but she’s too sweet to actually hold a grudge against anyone ever.

I suddenly want nothing more than to give her an enormous hug and hold onto her for as long as she’d let me. I just now realize how lonely it feels to have never hugged your best friend because you haven’t hung out together in person. The only reason Rae now knows what I look like is because I sent her a full body picture of myself as one of my sad attempts to get her to start talking to us again. We have never met in person, and that thought kills me. It makes me impatient for this pandemic to end even more than before. 

“Told you there was nothing to worry about.“ Corpse’s arms tighten their hold on my body, pulling me even closer which I didn’t know was possible. The most fulfilling and endearing feeling - being in the arms of a loved one. Being held so close and so tightly that you feel like you’re untouchable. Like you two can’t be hurt by anything in the world as long as you have each other.

“Yeah, you were right.“ I sigh in content, putting my phone down and covering his hands with mine, our rings clinking quietly when they touch.

“As usual...“ he whispers theatrically with his lips against my hair.

I playfully roll my eyes, catching glimpse of the screen showing Rae’s demise. 

“Oh no, they caught her.“ I say, a bit disappointed she didn’t win and more than a bit responsible for her defeat.

I somehow manage to convince myself to get untangled from Corpse’s embrace and join the new round. I hear him groan as I settle my computer in my lap, unmuting my mic.

“See ya, kitten.“ Corpse kisses my temple, standing up.

“Oh my God, you two are too cute.“ Poki says sweetly, having heard what Corpse said to me.

“SIMP!“ Sean and Felix shout in unison causing the whole lobby to laugh. Corpse is as red as Rae’s avatar as he exists our room, running down the hallway.

“Ok, ok, ok. Hold on. I have to address this. I really hadn’t stepped foot in Security, let alone vented in there. Rae why were you lying?“ Sean’s voice cuts through the teasing directed towards Corpse and I.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Felix speaks up as well, making me break out in a nervous sweat, “Y/N, you literally saw Rae kill me, but you said you didn’t see anyone.“ He laughs, “Not gonna lie, I was a bit pissed.“

The call falls silent for about five seconds until Rae and I speak simultaneously.

“I was avenging Y/N.“

“I was helping Rae.“

Silence follows our statements, not for long though, as our friends break out in amused laughter.

“Fuck’s sake, you two make a good team.“ Sean says through genuine laughter which Rae and I soon join him in.

Felix and Sean and the rest of the lobby forgive us for throwing the game from both the crewmate and impostor’s side and we move onto another round. This time I have only one task in Electrical which I leave for last as always. I don’t feel like dying right from the get-go. I start by doing the card swipe in Admin and then the fuel task in Storage. As I make my way to Upper Engine, Corpse leaves Electrical, falling in step with me. I immediately get nervous, but still make my way to where I’m supposed to go, hoping he’d go his own way eventually. 

I stay wary of my boyfriend as I do my task, praying he won’t take my head off. When the task is finished, I find I’m trapped in the room with the doors shut. And Corpse right there. With every right and opportunity to kill me and vent. No one would know. No one saw us. 

That nervous sweat is back. 

I’m counting my last seconds of being alive.

And it happens...

A body is reported

“Oh than you so so so much! Corpse was gonna kill me in Upper Engine!“ I don’t let the person who reported the body speak, thanking them for my survival. “I was sure I was a goner.“

“Babe, come on now. You know I wouldn’t kill you even if I was an impostor. I love you too much.“ Corpse hurries to defend himself, “I’m following you around to keep you safe.“

I can tell he’s capping, but I have no concrete proof. He knows I’m onto him. His best bet is having me killed by the other impostor. He might have been capping the majority of his defense, but I know he won’t kill me.

“I’ll vote for myself because of that one.“ I mumble

The vote is skipped except the one vote I placed on myself and the round continues. I follow Corpse around the whole time, making sure he’s completing tasks - not that I can be 100% certain he’s actually completing them.

All is well until we walk into Admin and find Felix there, uploading data. Corpse, dead-ass, goes up to him and kills him, reporting the body right afterwards.

“IT’S CORPSE!“ I don’t give him a chance to start his brainwashing of the rest of the players. “Felix, this is my redemption for leaving your death unavenged last round.“

“Yeah, it’s me.“ Corpse laughs, that adorable laugh of his melting me despite the need to stay strong and carry out my argument, “Just vote me out so I can go troll Y/N.“

“Sounds like a plan to me.“ Ken says, the remainder of the crewmates, and the impostor probably, agreeing with him.

The votes are put in, all on Corpse obviously, and he is sent off into space. Not even five seconds later I hear his footsteps approaching. 

I look up when he pops his head in the room and says, “I have come to annoy you to death with my love for you.”

I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head. The things this man does to me are insane. It’s insane that I let him. 

It’s amazing, really. We’re amazing.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I pat the spot on the bed next to me, “I’ll allow it. But only cause I love you too.”

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis

[flightlessangelwings]

Can’t Deny You

Din Djarin x afab!reader (smut with no pronoun use, no y/n)

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, sex with feelings, blindfolds, slight cockwarming, mechanic!reader, the child being adorable, soft!Din

Thank you to @ollypopp​ and @we-can-be-himbos​ for beta reading for me!

~

The hull of the razor crest was quiet save for the soft clatter of the damaged blaster that you were repairing. The Mandalorian and the child were seated up in the cockpit together while you tended to your duties on the ship. A chance meeting months ago brought the two of you together, and the armored bounty hunter allowed you to travel with him to put your skills as a mechanic to use. Not long after, the little green child entered your lives and everything seemed to change overnight. A pair of unlikely companions became an unconventional family, even if neither you nor Mando ever spoke the sentiment out loud.

It also didn’t help calm your growing feelings for the Mandalorian to see him with the child. To watch someone who could easily kill anyone and anything handle the small creature with such care and tenderness was a sight that you wouldn’t trade for all the credits in the galaxy. He was always kind to you, of course, but to see him with the baby set something ablaze within you. You swallowed hard as you buried your emotions and focused on repairing the blaster in your hands until it was better than new.

Mando would be happy with this, you thought with a grin on your face as you thought about the man who unknowingly had your heart.

Satisfied, you set it on the weapon rack and cleaned off your hands before you made your way up to the cockpit. Your heart pounded harder in your chest with every step you took, and it wasn’t just because of how you felt about the Mandalorian.

The two of you had hardly spoken to each other in the past week after you and the child were almost taken by bounty hunters. You were a decent fighter, but you were no match for four big men, and they knew that. Somehow, they separated you from Mando and had you cornered in a dark alley, the child tightly in your arms. You were ready to protect him with everything, but fear still ran through your veins. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian got to you just in time.

The near brush with death was something you could live with, it was part of life with the Mandalorian. However, what happened on the ship afterwards was something that was on your mind ever since. And the Mandalorian seemed to not want to acknowledge what happened.

Quietly, you opened the door to the cockpit and you nearly teared up at the sight that greeted you. Mando sat in his pilot’s chair and the child lay curled up in his lap, sound asleep. He either didn’t hear you come in at first, or he didn’t bother to move as he stayed still to not disturb the sleeping baby. One hand stayed on the controls while the other cradled the child, and you noticed the way his thumb rubbed comforting circles on his side.

You stayed still in the doorway for several moments and just took in the sight before you. You wanted to commit every little detail to memory to look back on whenever you were in need of warmth or a reason to smile. A soft smile lit up your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. But, you decided you lingered long enough and you cleared your throat to get Mando’s attention, “Comfortable there?”

He turned his head slightly and you heard a short, soft laugh from through the modulator of his helmet, “The kid fell asleep,” he replied, not knowing what else to say. He couldn’t hold eye contact with you for long, or else the emotions he tried so hard to keep down would come bubbling to the surface again. Though you couldn’t see his face, he fought to keep his expression neutral around you; Mando knew his body language would give himself away regardless.

“I’ll take him down and get him settled,” you offered.

With a nod, he handed the child over to you and watched as you cradled him so carefully. His breath hitched in his throat as his gloved hands made contact with your bare ones for a brief moment, but luckily you didn’t hear it. Mando watched with tender affection as you turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the ship and he let out a deep sigh when he was alone.

Mando knew he couldn’t keep you at arms length forever, but he also had no idea what to actually say to you. The day from a week ago constantly played over and over in his mind, and although he was afraid for yours and the child’s lives, the events that happened on the ship afterwards were what dwelled in his mind.

It had started when you took the child to his bunk to rest after Mando saved you both from the bounty hunters. Though you seemed shaken, neither of you were hurt and for that he was very grateful. He didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to either of you. But as he watched you set the child down and tuck him in, Mando couldn’t keep the rush of emotions in check anymore. As soon as you closed the door to the bunk where the child slept soundly, his hands were on you. 

Mando knew from the look in your eyes that your thoughts matched his and before you realized it, he had you pinned to the hull of the crest. It was as if the balloon finally burst and all the tension between the two of you bubbled over and spilled over the surface. It was heated and heavy and desperate and everything you both needed. Neither of you had the time to fully remove your clothes, both too lost in your emotions and the heat of the moment to even care. You just needed to feel each other as you both came together.

Since then however, the Mandalorian barely spoke more than a few words to you. Perhaps he didn’t know how to face and deal with his feelings towards you. Perhaps you had the same difficulty too. 

But you couldn’t take it anymore. You thought about that night again as you tucked the child securely in the bunk and closed the door. As you turned back around, you resolved that once you got back up to the cockpit you would confront Mando about what happened. If it was a one time thing, you could deal with it and just keep your true feelings to yourself. It would just break you if Mando shut you out entirely.

This time when you reentered the cockpit, the Mandalorian turned around to face you. The two of you stood in a tense silence for several minutes before you finally let out a deep breath and broke it, “Din listen,” you used his real name, which you reserved for private and important moments and he sat up straighter at that, “I know you’ve been on edge since…” you shrugged your shoulder as you nodded to your side. Even as you confronted him, you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words out loud. The melancholy in your face was tangible as you continued, “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it and if it was a one time thing then so be it but I just…”

Din cut you off with your name, “Don’t,” he sighed as he already knew where you were going with the thought, “Don’t blame yourself. I’m...” his gaze dropped down to the ground, “I do care about you,” Din finally admitted.

Your eyes went wide as you gasped softly, “Din,” your voice was just above a whisper as you took a step closer to him. He stayed still as you reached out and tentatively caressed his arms just below the pauldrons on his shoulders. You felt him tense for a moment before he relaxed into your touch. As he welcomed your gentle embrace, your eyes stayed fixed on the visor of his helmet, “I care about you too. So much.”

With that, you carefully pushed him back so that his legs bumped the pilot’s chair. Most times, Din liked to be in control of the situation, but with you he felt comfortable enough to give that up and let you lead. Your hands slid up his arms and once they reached his shoulders, you gently guided him down to sit. Din looked up at you and saw the fire in your eyes, and the same feelings from that night a week ago flooded back. 

“Is this ok?” you asked in a hushed tone as you knelt down in front of him and placed your hands on his thighs.

“Yes,” he answered right away in just as soft a voice as he watched your hands slowly move up his inner thighs over his pants. Din’s breath caught in the back of his throat and his hands tightened into fists as he felt himself harden at just the thought of what you had planned.

And you definitely noticed the twitch in Din’s pants as your gaze drifted to between his legs. You carefully unzipped and freed his length and involuntarily licked your lips when it sprang free. As much as you wanted to kiss and lick his cock, you wanted to make sure this was what he wanted still and you glanced up at him with a pleading look in your eyes. Din tilted his helmet down to meet your eyes and he cupped the side of your face as he nodded once. Neither of you needed words to know what the other thought, and you communicated so well without a single word needed.

With Din’s permission, you closed your eyes and leaned your head into his touch for a moment before you bent forward and placed a feather-light kiss to the tip of his cock. A shiver ran up his spine at just the simple touch and he couldn’t help the low moan that escaped his lips. Where the first time you were together it was rushed and heated, this time it was slow and sensual, and neither of you complained about it at all. You wanted to take your time with Din, and you knew that he needed the relief from all the tension that had built up within him over the past week.

You started by licking a long, slow stripe up his length before you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock. You knew from before that he was well endowed, but to have his cock in your mouth was a sensation that you were not prepared for. It was as if you felt pleasure yourself from the pleasure you gave him.

Din’s low groans filled the cockpit as you bobbed your head up and down his length, and every time you moved you took just a little bit more of him in your mouth. When you pulled back so that just the tip was in your mouth, you swirled your tongue around the head a few times before you engulfed him completely again. Every time, the action pulled a moan from deep in his chest, and Din couldn’t help but move one hand to grip at your scalp as you worked him.

To be in your mouth was a pleasure unlike anything else Din had ever experienced in his life. From under the helmet, his eyes rolled back into his head as he gave in to the moment and surrendered himself completely to you. He whispered your name in pure bliss as he felt a warmth spread throughout his body the longer you sucked at his cock. Din knew that he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept going, but there was something else he wanted too before he came.

The Mandalorian used his grip on your scalp to hold you taut, and made you stop in your movements. Your eyes went wide with surprise as you pulled away from his length with a loud pop. Din froze for a moment at the sight of you on your knees in front of him with drool on the corners of your mouth from how eager you were to take him into your mouth. 

“Din?” your voice was hoarse from having his cock down your throat, “Is everything ok?”

“Ride me,” his words were blunt and the tone was soft, but just commanding enough to make your thighs clench.

You let out a soft gasp, but a smile soon graced your face as you nodded and shuffled to your feet. Suddenly overcome with embarrassment, your eyes darted down to the floor as you shimmied your pants down. You could feel his gaze on you, and your skin burned as you felt so vulnerable in front of him. When this happened the first time, you barely saw any part of each other. But this time you both took in as much of each other as you could. 

A thunk on the floor made you look up, and you realized that Din took off the chestplate of his armor so that you would be more comfortable against him. He held his arm out to you in a silent invitation, one that you eagerly accepted. 

Din held onto your hips as he guided you down onto his lap. Immediately, you felt his erection against your pussy and you whimpered at the sensation. You felt his fingers tighten against you as you rocked slightly against his cock, and you heard the soft groan through the modulator of his helmet. You shivered and moaned as his length rubbed against your wet folds. As much as you wanted to close your eyes, you fought to keep them open. You locked your eyes onto the visor of his helmet where you could feel his gaze on you, even if you couldn’t see it.

He said your name like it was a prayer and it ignited the fire within you. You shifted yourself so that you lifted your hips off his Din’s lap and you reached down and pushed your underwear aside. Din took the opportunity and glanced down at your pussy and he nearly choked on air when he saw how wet you were.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. Din couldn’t tear his eyes away from your pussy as he watched you line his cock up with your entrance. And he didn’t just mean your pussy when he said that, Din found every inch of you beautiful, and he wanted to take his time this time and savor every bit of you that he could.

Any words that you had in response were strangled when you started to lower yourself into his cock. Both of you let out low growls and murmurs of praise as Din’s cock slowly disappeared inside you. His head fell back against the chair as he exhaled heavily, but his grip never faltered.

“Fuck,” Din groaned.

Once you were fully seated on his lap, you rolled forward and collapsed against Din’s chest. The way he slowly stretched you out burned so good, and you never felt fuller. Without the armor, you felt the softness of his chest and you even felt his heartbeat against your head. You closed your eyes and smiled as Din wrapped his arms around you and just held you tight for several long moments.

You started slow and lifted your hips up just enough to hover over Din’s lap before you lowered yourself again. Both of you let out louder moans, and you soon picked up your pace. At first, you stayed against his chest and savored the way his heart pounded for you, but soon you lifted yourself up to meet his helmeted gaze once again. You looked at Din with half lidded eyes as you bounced on his cock.

Din savored the sight before him, but he found that he felt greedy for wanting more. He wanted to see more of you while he was buried deep inside you. After you pushed yourself upright, he moved his arms down to your hips once more and tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

Tentatively, Din lifted your shirt up just a few inches and paused to make sure you were ok with it. Even while he stayed buried inside you, he still asked for your permission before he removed your shirt entirely. You smirked and gave him a single nod as you leaned back and allowed him to remove it completely. 

In just your bra and your panties that were pushed aside, you never felt more exposed, and yet you felt safe and secure in the Mandalorian’s embrace. You stilled yourself as he ran his hands across your bare skin, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body. A whimper escaped your lips whenever he found a more sensitive spot and you arched your back when his hands cupped your breasts.

As Din kneaded your mounds, you rocked your hips again and watched with lustful eyes when you heard a low growl from deep within him. As you moved, you felt his hips meet yours and together you created this new dance of pleasure. You ran your hands across his chest again and you flattened your palm over his heart; you couldn’t get enough of how wonderful his heartbeat felt under your touch.

You were lost in the feeling of Din’s cock inside you, and it felt even more wonderful now that you took it slow with him. But, there was something else that you wanted still. Your brows furrowed as a look of sorrow flashed in your eyes.

“What is it?” of course Din noticed the brief look.

You sighed, but you couldn’t lie to him, “I want to kiss you. More than anything else, I want to kiss you, Din,” you couldn’t help the vulnerability in your voice as you confessed to him. You did not want him to break his creed for you; you would never ask that of him. But yet you wanted to feel his lips on yours and taste him more than anything in the galaxy.

Din couldn’t deny you, especially when he was buried in your warm cunt. He wouldn’t dream of denying your request, and if he was honest with himself, he wanted it just as badly. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation as you gently grabbed onto his shirt.

The Mandalorian leaned down to his side and tore off a long strip of his cape. The whine you let out at the shift made his cock twitch inside you. He would have liked to use something nicer and cleaner for you, because that’s what you deserved, but this would do for now. Besides, he didn’t want to lose his connection to you just yet.

You waited in silence as Din brought the strip of fabric up to your face. As he brought it closer, you closed your eyes and allowed him to fasten the makeshift blindfold around your head. Your breath caught in your throat as your sight was taken from you, but you didn’t have any fear. This was the one person you trusted more than anything, and you would lose any of your senses for him in a heartbeat.

As you clung to his shirt, you felt him shift as he reached up and slowly removed his helmet. Din lifted it halfway and paused as he waited for a reaction from you. When you were still, he took it the rest of the way off and set it on the control panel with a soft thud. That got a reaction from you, and you gasped but remained still.

Din reached for you again, and you sighed when you noticed that his hands were bare as well. The feeling of his skin against yours was an intimacy that was unlike any other, even with his cock buried in your pussy. You knew how much it meant to him to be this bare in front of you, even with the blindfold.

Slowly, he pulled your face to his and placed a soft kiss to your lips. Din lingered like that for a moment and just savored the softness of your lips on his before he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth as your lips parted for his tongue and he wrapped his arms around you once more.

This time it was Din who started the rhythm of pumping into you. You met his hips with your own and between the way your bodies rocked together and your tongues danced with each other’s, both of your climaxes were not far away. He sped up his thrusts when he felt you start to clench around him. As he kept one arm securely around your waist to keep you in place, his other hand snaked between your bodies to rub at your clit.

You broke away for air and your moans echoed within the cockpit as Din worked your body like he had been with you a hundred times before. His thrusts became more feverish like they were the first time you were together and you could tell that he was close. With your forehead pressed against his, you came with a loud scream, and you heard him moan your name as his own climax was right behind yours.

Din kept up his pace until you were both completely spent and with an exasperated sigh, you collapsed forward into his chest. You heard the low rumble of his laughter as you nuzzled against him. Din held you tightly against his body, as if he was afraid you would disappear if he let you go. Perhaps the memory of how he almost did lose you was too fresh in his mind. But you weren’t going anywhere. You had him and the child to look after. The ones you cared about more than life itself. Your family. 

“You alright?” he broke the comfortable silence as he rubbed your back in a soothing manner.

You chuckled against his chest, “I’m more than alright.”

It was quiet again as you both stayed connected. “Next time,” Din started hesitantly, “I want to taste you.”

A big smile lit up your face, “I’d like that, Din.” Who were you to deny him anything? 

~

Notes: So this idea randomly popped into my head and wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it. And as I wrote it, more and more feelings got poured into it lol. I love writing soft!Din so much too. I hope you all enjoyed this! Taglists are open as always, so let me know if you’d like to be added!

[emperor-palpaminty]

CAN WE PLEASE GET A PT 2 FOR THE 41 KISS PROMPT W REX OML I CANNOT IT WAS GETTING SO GOOOOODD 😭😭😭😭

ISKSKS I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT

i will most defs do that for you love! am glad you've enjoyed it! I don't remember the exact dialogue so I just... Made it up???? Whoops

Part one is here!

You felt Rex's attention shift to you but you stood your ground, eyes pinned on Krell, the brilliant green shifting against the ever-present darkness rolling around your former master. You could feel it now- the haze of evil, the fog of the Dark Side rolling around him like a mist in a wood.

The captian's blasters were out in his hands and he stood even with you, voice calm but authoritative. "General Krell," He said, calmly. "You're under arrest."

Krell took in the sight of it all- you with your saber resting easily in your hands, Rex standing next to you with his guns drawn, the soldiers moving around you. "Under what charges?"

"Treason against the Republic." Rex moved closer to you, and you shifted your saber, feeling the comforting hum in your fingers.

The men closed in, eyes only on the traitor. Krell's lips pressed into a sneer, and his fingers flexed. "I feared you would say that-" You heard the Force stir before you felt it. "Clone."

The men tumbled back, Krell's sabers whipping out, pushing troopers away. The clone closest to the window crashed through, shattering the glass, and tumbled out, screaming.

You grounded yourself, skidding backwards as the pressure of the force pushed you back. Your head lifted long enough to catch Krell jumping out the shattered window. You stood, running to the ledge and glancing down, Rex behind you. "Kriff," You breathed, starting down. "I'll go directly after him. You take the elevator-"

"Hey," Rex reached out, bumping your arm with his fingers. You turned at looked at his visor, trying to discern some expression, some emotion from that emotionless helmet.

Instead, he drew his hand back, nodding. "Turn on your comm. The second you see him, tell me and wait-"

"No more of your brothers are dying today, Rex." You exhaled, moving back towards the ledge. "Not under my watch." Your breath caught, and you jumped back, tumbling, feeling the air whiz past your ears. You landed heavy, ankles screaming, the impact absorbed by the Force that dwelled around you.

You stood and ran, activating your lightsaber. "Men!" You yelled at a group of 212th troopers. "With me! Don't leave my sights."

You led them into the forest, thick with fog, the plants casting a dim glow on the breath of the twilight. You led the mem, stepping slow, your senses muffled by ringlets of the force around you. "Rex," You said, softly to your comm. "He's close. I can feel him."

"Hang on, General. We're close to you."

You exhaled, softening your voice. "I'll take care of your men. Just get here quick." You tugged your wrist away, saber humming with life.

A man screamed in the distance. You turned, eyes scanning for the familiar haze of blue and green. The sabers moved in violent arcs, aggressive, just as terribly powerful as you remembered him being when you were his padawan.

You ran ahead of the men, who were close to your tail, and you lept upwards, feet planting against foreign fauna, saber swinging. You struck down, just as violent as you had been taught, and two blades rose to meet you.

He swung, the duo of blades moving brilliantly, and you danced between them, twisting and rolling. The clones were yelling at one another in the comms, debating to fire or not, to shoot or not, in lieu of hitting the Jedi that they didn't want to hit.

You tumbled back, your blade still humming, and you glanced up at him, the grey dirt coating your vision. You stood, shakey, hands readjusting.

"My Padawan," Krell sighed, moving towards you. The words suffocated you, and you exhaled, feeling in the force for him- that betrayal earlier, your Captain, was replaced with worry. "You could have been a great service to the dark side." He walked towards you in an arc, and you mimicked it, circling each other slowly. "Instead, you chose some lab-created flesh droid with a hive mind. Does he even feel? Does he know the... Love?" Krell laughed, the sound grating your ribs. "You love him? My padawan is stupid. How unfortunate."

You spun the saber, stopping mid-circle. You began approaching him, head-on, each step a pump of your heart for him, his brothers- Rex. Fives. Jesse. Hardcase. Tup.

You sprinted, hearing Rex's voice in your comms, but the wind rushed past you and blocked his words. Your sabers clashed, and you snarled. "And my master has forgotten one thing-" The presence of Rex closened, pulsed, the fear filling as he heard your blades, your voices.

"And what is that?" Krell leaned in, his blades locked against yours.

You smiled as Rex and his men pushed into the clearing, their voices talking about the many aggressive living plants around the two of you. Your boot hit the rubbery root, and you stepped on it harder, feeling the hiss of the plant under you. "You taught me everything I know."

You shut off your saber and ducked, rolling away from him, and the vines rushing to meet you caught Krell's leg and yanked him up.

The men shot, firing, as you moved back, watching the Krell seeing wildly. You moved back towards Rex, watching him especially, and you get the fear transition to pride, admiration, even, as the General's sabers fell and he hit the ground, unconscious.

"Brilliant, General," Rex exhaled to you, watching his men hurry to cuff Krell.

You nodded, knees shaking, and you deactivated your saber, hand pressing to your thigh. A slow groan escaped your throat, a subtle burn spreading. "Rex-" You hissed, collapsing.

Rex turned instantly, body stiffening as you fell. He ran to you, rolling you over and looking at your thigh. "Kriff." He hissed. "Medic!" The pain in his voice was physical, wet, thick, more so than the pain in your body.

You felt him tug your head onto his arm. "Rex," You mumbled, the pain coursing rapidly in your muscles. "I think- when I-"

"Shh. You're going to be okay- Medic!" Rex stood, tucking you to him, and running to the straggling group of clones. "She's been hit."

Your leg stung, and your head lulled back, eyes catching the blue blurs of Rex's helmet before darkness consumed you.

___

When you came to, you had a very strong craving for tea. Your body felt sticky, thick, and you groaned and sat up. You glanced around at the pristine setting- the medical ward, you presumed, still on Umbara.

You kicked your legs over the aide of the bed and grimaced, knees popping at the use. Your upper leg felt mended, but the sutures were bruising your skin. You settled weight on it and emitted a hiss, shuffling towards the shower.

"You're up," Kix called. You turned, glancing back at the irritated medic. "If the Captain knew you were up-"

"Kix," you whined, leaning heavily on the closest bed frame. "I'm fine."

He gave an irritable grunt, holding out a folded pile of clothes. "You'd better be. Go shower. Do not-" He tugged the fabrics from your hands and you hummed, reaching for them. "I repeat, do not pull at the bacta pad or get it soaked. Damp is fine. Wet is not. Good?"

"Loud and clear." You snatched the clothes away.

"I'd better tell the boys you're up. They've been anxious. Especially-" The medic stopped, stumbling on his words

Your feet bumped into the doorframe of the refresher. "Especially... Who?"

Kid glanced up at you, eyes almost mirroring the Captian you hoped for, and he said, gently, with a grin on his lips, "I think you already know who."

___

When you emerged from the refresher, toweling off your hair, you heard a sharp intake of breath. "You're awake."

Your eyes snapped up, towel abandoned in your hands. "I am." Rex's voice held the same tenderness that had planted in your heard since the most recent tea ritual, rubbing your heart raw with the coarse affection that was running you over, again and again. "Are you alright?

Rex started towards you, eyes blazing with a compassionate intensity. "You need to be in bed."

You smiled gently, raising your hands in mock surrender, fighting to keep the searing pain of your wound at bay. "I'm getting there."

Rex met you halfway. He stooped and scooped you up, gently, far in less of a rush than he had been when you were openly injured and walked you towards your bed. "You know better, general." He scolded, softly. You didn't complain, opting to wind your fingers behind the nape of his neck and press your face softly against his jaw.

The captain exhaled a shaky breath. His hold tightened momentarily as he stopped by your cramped cot, turning his head and lowering his cheek against your skin. Your fingers intertwined and you pulled back, looking up at his face. The rolling surprise spread on his lips, his eyes, as he turned his head more against you, sitting down on the cot, simply cradling you.

You threw your arms around him entirely and allowed Rex to hold you- you shook, quietly, sobbing softly. "I'm so sorry, Rex, if I had sensed Krell-"

"No, no," Rex squeezed you gently, rocking now, smoothing a hand in your still-damp hair. "The Jedi Council didn't sense it. General Skywalker or General Kenobi didn't sense it, either. You can't blame yourself." The hand in your tendrils of hair moved to your cheek, the gloved fingers smoothing over the war-roughened skin. "You have done-" A crack in the foundation of his words, and his shoulders heaved. "More. More than I could ever ask anyone."

You bumped your forehead to him, holding his jaw in both your hands. "And I would do more." Especially for you.

Rex nodded, his hold tightening as he pulled you in again. The two of you sobbed- perhaps because of the losses, the shame of that responsibility, or perhaps you realized the unconditional depths of your love for the other, and it was something- even worse, someone- you could never truly have.

[phantomwarrior12]

Difficult Adjustments (Chapter 2)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, PTSD (if I missed any warnings, let me know and they will be added)

Sweet Beginnings (Chapter 1)

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

"I want him."

Her words still echo through his mind as they make their way from Spider's lair. It's surreal - he's free.

Everything within surges with a sort of exhilarated thrill at the prospect of...anything really. But he must remain composed, if for no other reason than to ground himself in the sea of euphoria he's currently floating in.

He's free.

And she's beside him with every step. Their hands brush every so often with each stride - how he longs to take it.

Not yet. It isn't safe yet.

But as they emerge from the lair, Crow has a moment to take in the Tangled Shore. The soft breeze against his skin, that mangled sort of scent that reminded him that this was home.

"Now what?" Glint asks, hovering just over Crow's shoulder. Even his little light sounds uncertain and it brings him a modicum of comfort.

"I-I don't know. It doesn't feel real...Freedom." His own uncertainty slips into his voice as he pivots to look at her, "Why would you do this for us?"

She takes half a step closer, nodding solemnly as she speaks, "Because...you're a Guardian."

Crow watches her Ghost bob in agreement and he manages a smile. He suspects there's more to it than that but for now, it's answer enough. He casts one last glance over the Shore before nodding, "Then I suppose it's time to go."

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

"You're...sure this is alright?"

The Young Wolf bumps into him playfully as she moves past him toward the wall of the next building to continue her ascent through the Tower. She's grabbing onto poles and ledges and Crow is having some difficulty keeping up with her.

"It'll be fine! Besides, you've been in the HELM for awhile. You need to see the City some. We did promise to show you her sunset spot." Ghost supplies as Crow reaches for a ledge.

"But Osiris said not to leave the HELM." He protests feebly, making no move to act on his objections.

"We'll be back before he even notices." He assures him confidently before darting back to his Guardian.

"They must do this often...disobeying authority, I mean." Glint remarks, watching the Guardian before them.

"You might be right...but I suppose if anyone will get away with a stunt like this, it's her." Crow chuckles softly.

"And what about us?"

"What about us? This was her idea." He smirks, pausing to look at his companion.

"...hopefully Osiris sees it that way." Glint grumbles.

"We'll be fine, Glint. Don't worry so much. Osiris isn't like Spider...any punishment won't come at the cost of our lives." His voice softens. For a moment, the memories flare and his grip on the ledge falters. He snaps to just as he starts to fall backward.

"Crow!"

It's Glint who calls out but it's her hand that locks around his, tugging him back against the wall from above. Sunset darts upward, staring down the vibrant red visor before managing an appreciative nod.

She gives him another tug and he takes the signal to climb the last foot to the top of the building with her firmly holding his hand to keep him from falling. He clambors over the edge and heaves a sigh, "Thanks."

She elbows him lightly, the way she used to when they would spar. Before she helped him refine the speed of his attacks, he'd have the occasional...clumsy counter. It wouldn't look anything like a Hunter should be - lacking any prowess and swiftness. She's taking a jab at him with that elbow to remind him and he shoulders her back lightly.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh at the New Light."

She does just that, though he notices the subtle shake of her shoulders over the sound of her laugh. The wind is too loud, tossing their cloaks around them and the flags the billow along the otherside of the building.

He turns, his breath catching in his throat when he sees the landscape stretching out before them. Just beyond the Traveler, the sun has begun to set, painting the sky a myriad of crimson, gold and rose.

"...you weren't kidding about the view." He says softly as she steps up beside him.

Her fingers entwine with his and he barely has a moment to register her touch before she's pulling him over to the ledge. She wouldn't push him off - would she?

The thought is fleeting and vanishes as she takes a seat, giving his hand a light tug to encourage him to sit beside her. He does as she directs and his legs hang over the building ledge beside hers. Below them, the City draws their eyes out toward the wall and the valley just beyond.

"It's...beautiful," he whispers as the wind catches his hood and blows it back onto his shoulders. This is nice. This is...he could get used to this.

Perhaps it's a dangerous line of thought. Perhaps all of this will end very badly. But he will still have this moment at her side. Her hand entwined with his on her thigh and - her head is propped against his shoulder. Her hood is still up, her helmet still in place but she's leaning into him. He can't quite quell the smile that slips easily into place as he gazes down at her.

Some part of him wants to see her face, to gaze into her eyes beneath the Traveler and just get lost for a moment. The inclination to kiss her strikes him but he doesn't even know where to begin.

No. Things are fine as they are. He can hold her like this. He can enjoy her touch and her proximity - just for a little while.

"So...this is your favorite view in the City?"

She nods silently, beginning to absently trace the pad of her thumb over his knuckle.

When had she removed her gloves?

It's...a new sensation to him. To hold her hand, to feel the calloused skin of her palm against his. Her grip is firm yet gentle, warm and tangible and there. He never wants to let go. Perhaps that's why he squeezes, why he leans his head down against hers and just...smiles.

This is home now. 

"Enjoying yourselves?"

"Uh oh," Glint mumbles.

The chiding voice behind them startles Crow. His head snaps upward, the smile all but vanishing. But the voice doesn't belong to Spider and the Young Wolf radiates more annoyance than anything else beside him. Crow shifts, looking over his shoulder at the source and cringes.

"Guardian, I trust you have a good reason for taking our new friend on an escapade?" Osiris folds his arms over his chest in mild annoyance.

The Young Wolf shrugs, laying down on her back and looks up at him. Crow is vaguely aware of the the fact that she hasn't released his hand, but what surprises him the most is how nonchalant she is when she gives Osiris a wave.

"Would you believe us if we told you it was for sparring practice?" Ghost offers weakly, though amusement dances on the edge of his voice.

"No. I don't believe I would." 

"No one can see us up here," the Young Wolf says at last, "He's safe."

"That's not the point--"

"I can head back--" Crow interjects, already beginning to get to his feet. He doesn't want to be the cause of any trouble - trouble leads to consequences and--

She tugs him back down beside her, "I promised him a sunset. I'll bring him back in one piece, Osiris. Promise."

The elder Warlock looks at her skeptically, but her expression is veiled beyond her visor. Does she do that on purpose? Make herself unreadable so people can't argue? Can't see through whatever web she's weaving? Crow wonders how she's so calm all the time and it suddenly all makes sense.

Being the Vanguard's favorite Guardian, Shaxx's champion, Drifter's partner...it all gives her a certain degree of freedom - and she's capitalizing on it for his benefit.

Just as she played Spider.

He looks down at her for a long moment in awe before meeting Osiris's gaze, "Just until sunset?"

"...very well." Osiris relents with a heavy sigh, "Wear the mask if you go through the City."

"I will." Crow promises with a smile.

"On your way back to the HELM, go see Saint." The Young Wolf adds sternly, "He misses you."

Crow watches the Warlock pause, and he wonders if he detects a degree of hesitancy in his eyes before he leaves without a word.

"He and Saint are--?"

"Together," Ghost supplies, "Some say married, others say courting. Personally, our money is on married, I don't know anyone who would break time itself just to rescue a potential boyfriend. We've got a bet going with Drifter about who can find out the fastest what the truth is."

"Huh." Crow nods with a smile. "Didn't think Osiris had those kinds of emotions."

"He plays the stoic mentor, but he's got all sorts of emotions pent up in that head of his." Ghost returns with a bobbing nod.

"Right." He shifts his gaze back to her, but she seems oblivious. Her hold on his hand had loosened ever so slightly and she seems lost in thought. "Everything alright?" He asks tentatively.

Her head tilts toward him for a moment, as if she's looking right through him, as if he isn't even there.

"Guardian?" There's a sliver of concern easing in his voice. When she doesn't answer, he squeezes her hand and she jerks, snatching her hand back.

"Hey, it's alright," he holds his hands up and leans back. "Just me."

She stares at him for a long moment before her eyes drop. "Sorry," she murmurs.

"What happened?" He asks softly, lowering his hands.

"...just thinking," her head turns back toward the Traveler, "about how much has changed."

"Change is...good, right?"

"It is and it isn't," her thumb grazes the holster that houses her hand canon, the ace peeking out from beneath the strap over it.

His eyes drift from the weapon back to her visor. He can't say he's a fan of this line of thought, she sounds...full of regret, full of grief.

Crow slides a little closer, gently wrapping his arms around her and she goes rigid.

"In this case...it was good," he says softly.

He can feel the tension draining away as she returns his embrace, laying her head on his chest. "It is," she whispers.

Her embrace is tight and desperate, but he enjoys it all the same. It's her after all. His Hunter. His Old Light. He is at ease only at her side and he prays that never changes.

"So, how about that sunset?" Glint manages, drawing both Hunters' eyes to the Traveler and the sun descending in the sky.

Crow smiles, giving the Young Wolf a light squeeze, "Better than the Shore."

And she laughs.

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

"You were seen!"

"At that distance, in the dark? No.”

"Enough to put a name to a dead man’s face. The commander told Ikora. Thankfully, he passed you off as a hallucination.” Osiris rages and the Young Wolf looks visibly uncomfortable as a third party observer.

Crow narrows his eyes at Osiris, “An assassin was inside our walls. I had to do something.”

“This isn’t the first time an enemy has infiltrated the City, and it won’t be the last. Your concern is noted, but far from a crisis.”

“An attempted assassination isn’t a crisis?” Crow asks, staring at the elder Warlock incredulously.

“Zavala is quite capable of dispatching a lone Psion.” Osiris returns easily. He’s dismissive and Crow doesn’t appreciate being brushed aside so easily.

“He was distracted. Soon to be Lightless. If I wasn’t—“

“Unmasked?” Osiris interrupts, leaning forward, “Didn’t the Spider teach you that even small mistakes bring large consequences?”

His temper flares. Spider taught him a lot of things - mostly to be afraid. To bow his head and his knee and follow orders. To be submissive. To grovel and be wary. To be an animal and not a man.

But she changed that when she forced Spider to let him go. And he will never go back to the way that he was.

“I suppose you learned that chasing Xivu Arath,“ Crow bites back sharply.

He hadn’t - the glint in his mentor’s eyes when he shifts strikes him to his very core. When Osiris takes half a step forward, his fingers poised toward the Hunter in a point, “Choose your next words wisely.”

To his right, the Young Wolf looks between them. He can sense her uneasiness, the uncertainty all too evident in her stance. She doesn’t know who to side with, who to console and who to reprimand in that moment.

The tension triggers something in the back of Crow's mind. A nagging sense he'd gained from one too many conflicts with Spider. He knows when to relent. When to reign in his...insolence, as Spider often referred to it. 

It's what he knows and it seems a suitable response in that moment.

He was out of line with that remark and he knows that. But the alarm in his mind screams for him to smooth things over - his life is on the line, isn't it? His place in the City?

He shifts, avoiding the Warlock’s gaze but even across the table, the anger is suffocating. There is a shadow of shame in his voice when he manages to find the words - at least when he begins. “I should have kept my mask on, but I don’t regret acting. I still think Zavala’s in danger.”

Osiris seems to relax, stepping back to where he had been when he speaks. “That is why I’m embedding you as his bodyguard.”

“Is that…wise?” Crow asks, his own uncertainty slipping into his voice.

When the Warlock continues, it's as if his intent is to erase any semblance of uncertainty. It is strong and firm and direct. “We need to draw in their assassins, and a full security outfit is too obvious. Keep your mask on. Always. Do not speak. Can I trust you to handle this with discretion?”

He leaves no room for argument but Crow is grateful for the chance to help nonetheless. But this time, this time he’s acting under orders and it is sanctioned. He can follow orders - it’s what he’s good at.

“The utmost.” He says at last, his eyes flickering over to the Guardian standing at the head of the table before turning and disappearing into the Light.

It’s only a matter of minutes before the Young Wolf descends the staircase. From her gait, he can tell she’s more at ease with all of this - no doubt having had a conversation with Osiris that put her mind at ease.

Perhaps he should apologize to the Warlock for what he said, but, maybe that should wait until all of this is well and truly over.

She stops in front of him, her arms settling in a cross over her chest and he gets the sense she’s about to scold him. He jumps in quickly, hoping to avoid yet another lecture.

“My mask was in my hand. Stupid, I know, but I felt…safe. I thought I could just relax for a minute. It was a mistake.” Her head tilts, her shoulders sagging as if pitying him.

He gestures with his hand, trying to ignore her sympathy, “Osiris tells me the commander always talks about making the hard choice. Reveal myself or let him die. Whatever I chose, someone would still say I was wrong.” He throws his hands up in frustration but his voice softens as he continues.

“I’m sure you’ve lost people. Wracked your mind for how it could have been different. Too far away to act, but close enough to wonder. If you could have stopped it, wouldn’t you? No matter the cost.”

She straightens. Her head turns ever so slightly and he frowns. There is something there. Something in the way she shifts her weight from one leg to the other. In the way she uncrosses her arms and her hand settles over the hilt of her handcanon. There's something distant and grieving and he almost regrets mentioning it. But then it’s gone, as if she shoved it from her mind as quickly as it came to the forefront of her thoughts.

He suspects, given her reaction, it has to do with that cloak she wears. The ace matches the gun on her hip she'd instinctively reached for and he lets himself wonder, if only for a moment before continuing. 

“I’ve been at the mercy of something I couldn’t stop, without knowing why. Blind in a nightmare. I didn’t want to be a reason for more pain.” He admits softly, pain slipping into his voice and her hand settles on his shoulder. It’s her way of offering reassurance, her way of letting him know she is there and will back him no matter what.

He appreciates it more than she could ever know.

His hand settles over hers, eyes locking with her visor, “The next time they come for the commander, they’ll have to get through me. Mask or no mask.” A small smile slips into place along his lips beneath his mask, a shadow of amusement in his voice, “Just…don’t tell Osiris I said that.”

He hears a soft snort and she squeezes his shoulder gently.

“We won’t mention it,” her Ghost answers on her behalf and he nods.

“Thanks…you should probably get back out there.” Crow manages, suddenly very sheepish with how close she’s standing. The weight of her hand on his shoulder kicks his heart into a rapid thrum and he lowers his eyes.

But when she moves forward, he's not expecting it, he flinches back. The heel of his boot skids against metal and she retreats a step quickly, giving him space.

She was going to hug him. Nothing more.

Easy, Crow. He's still on edge from his argument with Osiris, still calming the alarms in the back of his mind. She's waiting, hands poised in surrender in front of her as if to try and look less like a threat.

She's never hurt him. Not even while sparring - at least not intentionally. A few bruises from hitting the ground but - she wasn't going to hurt him just now. She was offering comfort and he--

"I'm sorry," he manages after a moment, guilt flaring in his eyes as he catches his breath and tries to calm his racing heart.

"Don't apologize," she says softly, "I should have--"

He takes her hand and squeezes it firmly to silence her. Her shoulders sag in relief, her head tilts as she speaks.

"Are you alright?"

"I will be." He assures her. In truth, his hold on her is for his own benefit rather than hers. He doesn't associate her touch with pain or danger - it's safe. Their evening atop the Tower drowns the memories from the Shore and he can finally feel the tension in his chest begin to subside. "I'm okay."

She squeezes his hand in response, patiently waiting at his side as he collects himself. When he can bring himself to meet her gaze again, she takes a slow step closer. Her other hand lifts, poised in the uncertain beginnings of an embrace and she hesitates. His eyes drift from her arm to her helmet for a long moment before nodding.

Her arms carefully wind around him, he can feel her tension, how aware she is trying to be of every reaction. She's so gentle with him, always so mindful of what he's endured and how she can try to ease that pain. When she's close enough to hug him properly, Crow relaxes. He wraps his arms around her and tugs her a little closer for a tight hug.

This is better. 

His chin settles on her shoulder, his eyes searching the wall behind her as if grappling with the reality he's in right now. She's never hugged him before. Leaned into him, yes. Held his hand, of course. But never fully embraced him. He wonders what's going through her mind but she offers no clues with how tightly she's holding him.

This isn't just her offering comfort. This is thank you...for saving Commander Zavala. The Young Wolf rarely speaks, most of her words come through her actions and he's...getting better at reading them.

He can't help but smile, can't help but give her a squeeze and lean his head against hers. He can feel her fingers wound tight around the fabric of his cloak, clinging to him wordlessly. He doesn't want to decipher anything else right now - not her vice grip, not the racing of his own heart. He just wants to hold her, stay in this moment a little while longer.

But her comms have other plans.

They both hear it and as she starts to pull away, Crow fights the urge to tug her back...it's a short-lived battle because she notices the tension and reluctance in his arms and looks at him.

He stares into that visor for what feels like an eternity before she leans in. She rests her forehead against his, a soft Ghost slips from her lips and the cool metal vanishes.

He is grateful he's wearing his mask because his lips part in a silent gasp. Sunset connects with sharp emerald eyes and his breath catches. He's never seen her face, never looked beyond the veil.

"Guardian," he murmurs, his hand lifting to touch her cheek but he stops. Inches from her skin, his fingers curl and he begins to recoil.

This time there is no visor, no veil concealing the concerned flicker of her eyes from his hand to his features. It feels...unbalanced. She is usually the one safe behind a mask, with the roles reversed--

Her comm goes off again and she tears her eyes away from him to look toward her Ghost.

"Zavala is asking for you." He supplies softly, as if reluctant to interrupt their moment.

She nods, casting a glance toward Crow and offering an apologetic smile. She gives a light wave and pivots to leave but he catches hold of her arm. Her eyes snap up to his mask quizzically just before he drags her into a tight hug.

"Be careful," he whispers.

It isn't a request. It's a plea. He needs her to be alright. He can't lose her.

Not now.

Not ever.

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

"So, Caital's champion, huh?" Crow props himself at the top of the landing ramp of her ship. His arms are crossed, his eyes flitting along the interior of the ship and she tosses him an amused smile.

In the last few weeks alone, she's removed her helmet more and more often when she's around him - when it's just the two of them. He enjoys it a bit too much, finally getting to see just how expressive her features are. It's no wonder her helmet stays on when making deals, she can't keep those eyes in check. If she's not rolling them, they're studying people so intently they squirm. 

"You think you'll beat him with one super?" He continues to tease, trying to see how long it takes for her to laugh.

Instead, she throws a field blanket at him and he laughs. He picks it up, setting it back in its place and lingers not far from her. She's turned to shift some gear around and when she turns back, she nearly collides with his chest.

She narrows her eyes, glaring up at him with a mocking irritation.

"I'm sorry, am I in the way?"

"Yes, my Little Light, you are." She returns with a soft chuckle and his heart soars. 

"Oh, then by all means, I'll get out of your way." He smirks, starting to turn to leave when she pulls him back, proceeding to elbow him lightly as she squeezes past the Hunter to pick up the mask he'd left lying near the opening of the hold. Crow chuckles and rubs at his ribs, sunset drifting along her frame and finally settling settling her playful expression.

"Not without this."

He steps up to her, fingers gripping the mask just above her own and gives a light tug at it. Predictably, she doesn't relinquish her hold and Crow leans in a little closer.

"Anything else, Old Light?"

He is...tempting her. Intentionally. His face is inches from her own and all he can think about is kissing her - just once - to wish her luck, of course.

For a moment, he wonders if she'll take the bait. But then there's a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips and her fingers curl around the front of his cloak, pulling him down just enough to press a kiss to his cheek as her other hand simultaneously releases the mask.

He's stunned. He watches her turn nonchalantly and descend the ship's ramp. His hand lifts, touching his cheek with a sort of dumbfounded excitement as he smiles. 

Well played, Old Light.

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

She's propped against the wall beside his quarters when Crow finally returns to the HELM. Their secret is out. Zavala knows his face, they have an alliance with the Cabal and the Young Wolf - well, he watches her jolt to an upright position the instant she sees him, helmet vanishing as she approaches him.

He's tugged into a crushing embrace before he can utter a greeting and he smiles softly. He wraps his arms around her waist, "Hey, Guardian." He manages softly, his worry melting away in her embrace.

When she doesn't answer, he squeezes, "I'm okay." He tries to reassure her even as her fingers curl around his cloak and squeezes him back. Beneath his fingers, he can detect a small tremble, feel a subtle flare of solar energy against his fingertips. She'd been worried - it takes him a moment to process that. He's known she cares about him, known there was something there, but...this feels different.

Her hold is desperate, crushing. In the middle of the hallway, she is clinging to him as if he were life itself. He almost wishes she'd speak, voice whatever it is that has her so shaken but something tells him that won't happen.

"Do you want to come in?" He asks after a moment, rubbing her back soothingly.

"Can't," she manages quietly, "Have to check in with Zavala."

"Go check in," he whispers, pressing a kiss into her hair, "I'll be here when you get back."

She lifts her head, emerald drifting over his features and her hand cradles his cheek. Her eyes seem to beg for him to give his word, her thumb brushing along his cheekbone.

"I'll be here," he assures her, pressing a soft kiss to the palm of her hand,  "Go on."

For a second, he thinks she's going to kiss him. The way she leans a little closer, but her eyes drop and she nods reluctantly. One last brush of her thumb and she pulls away, her helmet transmatting into place and she vanishes into the Light.

He has an inkling, a vague idea what it is that's rattled her. Perhaps it's the same reason Zavala was so shaken when he saw Crow's face. They all know what or who he used to be. That much was confirmed that night Crow prevented Zavala’s assassination.

What he doesn't understand is why they all seem...reluctant. Surely who he was couldn't have been that bad - but then again, maybe he was. For a moment, he wonders if the Young Wolf stays as close as she does to him to act as a spy. It's certainly something the Spider would have done...but this isn't the Shore. The Vanguard doesn't operate like that, do they?

No. No, she's genuine. She always has been. He has no reason to doubt her now. It'll be fine.

Crow shakes his head and steps inside his room, closing the door softly behind him and takes off his cloak. He drapes the fabric over the chair in the room and takes a deep breath.

Glint materializes beside him, hovering as the Hunter trudges over to his bed.

"You should rest." His Ghost advises softly, "We had quite the day."

"Yeah," Crow collapses onto the mattress, draping his arm over his eyes, "I'll go to sleep when she gets back..."

"I don't think I've ever seen her that worried before."

Crow heaves a heavy sigh. "Neither have I. There's more to this, Glint. I can feel it. She wasn't just worried about the assassination attempt."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because she knows I can handle myself. She had this...spooked look in her eyes, same one Commander Zavala had when he saw me without the mask. There's a reason Osiris reacted the way he did after that night..."

"Maybe it's best you don't know. The Guardian says you're not supposed to know who you were in your past life."

"Maybe," Crow says softly, allowing his arm to settle beside him as he gazes up at the ceiling.

For all their words, who he used to be seems to be a fairly relevant deal - he's been killed far too many different ways for it not to.

He makes a mental note to ask her about it as he drifts off.

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

"The House of Light is here on Earth?" Crow asks, watching the Guardian clean her handcanon at his desk.

"Yeah. Ikora set a whole section of the City aside for them," her Ghost supplies with an edge of excitement. "Mithrax has offered his help in exchange for a sanctuary for his people."

"Misraaks," Crow says softly, correcting the Ghost as he steps up behind the Young Wolf. His hands settle on her shoulders, sunset absently studying her fingers deftly reassembling the weapon.

How many times has she done it with this gun alone? It's like second nature now. It's almost mesmerizing how her fingers move the mechanisms. But when they still, Crow looks down. 

She's gazing up at him, that curious glint in her eyes as she tries to decipher what he's after. 

"What?" He asks innocently and she quirks an eyebrow. Her head leans back just enough to lean against his torso and he can't quite quell the chuckle that slips out.

"Comfortable, are you?"

She smirks triumphantly - it seems she was after a laugh. He gently combs her hair back away from her face with his fingers, "Finish putting your gun together."

Her eyes close beneath his touch as if in spite of him. His eyes trace over her features, admiring the soft smile that plays at the corner of her lips, the peaceful ease that settles over her features. His movements are slow, soothing and he enjoys being the one she can relax around. It's a side of the Young Wolf he knows very few get to see. 

He adjusts ever so slightly, allowing him to bend down and press an affectionate kiss to her forehead. He lingers, her hand reaches for him and brushes along his cheek blindly. He laughs softly, drawing her eyes open at the sound and sunset locks with emerald.

He has missed being at her side, seeing her as often as he liked. But she heads into the Vex simulation nearly every day to put an end to the Night simulation. Tonight is the first time they've both been back in the HELM in weeks. Crow has been following up leads for Zavala with the Cabal. Now - now he gets her all to himself, if only for tonight.

"Finish building the gun," he says softly but sternly.

He starts to straighten up before her fingers hook around the back of his head and lightly tug him back down so they're face to face. An awkward position to be sure given that she's essentially upside down in her seated state.

Her eyes are all the challenge he needs. There's a cockiness, a smugness as they gaze up at him and he can't hide his smile. 

Or what?

It's what she's saying without actually uttering a word but her fingers are toying with strands of his hair and it's damn distracting.

He could drag this out, make a smart-ass remark about his Old Light's self-imposed bedtime but he doesn't feel like playing that game tonight.

So, he touches her cheek softly as he presses a kiss to her palm before meeting her gaze, "Because it's nearing sunset and we need time to reach your vantage point," he watches the cockiness give way to genuine excitement.

There's that child-like enthusiasm he's grown to adore.

She frowns slightly, almost like a pout when he releases her hand. It's short lived as she turns back to the gun and begins to put the weapon back together. Crow leans on the back of the chair, leaning his head against hers and just...watches.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world - being at her side.

He prays that never changes.

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

Bidding Farewell (Chapter 3)

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[spvce-cowboy]

hi!! i love all of your writing and was wondering if you’d do this prompt w din: 💕

being jealous! not to the point of it being unhealthy, just a moderate amount of cute jealously, in which their partner just laughs it off and gives them a kiss

THANK YOU ! <3 you must understand that cute protectiveness is my fav fav fav thing in the world, thank you for sending this in hehe

warnings: implied smut, overly indulgent on all fronts i just have a thing for pretty dresses okay

--

you think he buys you the dress because he notices the way it catches your eye in the store window. he doesn’t mention it to you after the fact, but he clearly notes the little sigh that leaves your parted lips in passing, or the way your gaze clings to it while the two of you pass by the shop’s window.

the village is nearly bursting at the seams with energy, the spring festival that would start that night is enough to have nearly everyone on the streets in preparation. at first Din was insulted to be hired on a security detail, but some lordling had slipped Karga enough cash to make it worthwhile for the guild, so here the two of you were. 

it’s been a while since the worst of your worries were the Sullustan rabbit pups that wriggled free of their pen that morning. you can’t say you don’t appreciate the reprieve.

the spring festival was set to begin that night, and the villagers seem more than ready to begin the celebrations. the town is the spitting image of a pastoral landscape, warm and illuminated with the colorful ribbons curving in sweeping arcs of color high above you. the blossoms are beginning to open, the fields already thick with tall green grasses. the livestock were fattening and the beginnings of the harvest were coming in--which meant that the market that you and Din had to weave through on your way back from the Town Marshall’s offices is a maze of bodies and stands.

the Town Marshall had finally told you and Din that it had been a long cold season. raiders had been coordinating attacks on their homes, killing those who resisted. the lordling only just got it under control in time for the festival to be hosted safely.

once the two of you are a safe distance away from the heavy-set Marshall, Din mutters something about the lord’s incompetency in not hiring him sooner. you roll your eyes, prodding his side with your elbow.

“he wants to be extra safe,” you mutter in return, shooting him a raised brow. “play nice.”

you think you hear him give a huff from underneath that layer of beskar and glass. he walks closer to you in that way he does when you know he wants to reach for your hand--or the small of your back, or your opposite hip--but can’t given the circumstances. you keep pace with him as the two of your weave your way back to the main pasture, and it’s then that you pass the window of the dress shop that catches your eye.

it’s a dull peach color, made of sheaths of long, fine fabric decorated with the smallest of embroidered flowers. two wide stripes of the material are fastened to the bodice and tied into flowing bows at the peaks of the mannequin’s shoulders, perfectly framing the tight, curved neckline of the dress.

least to say, you can’t really help the way you melt a little while looking at it. it’s absolutely beautiful and, more importantly, utterly impractical. it’s a shame, but that’s the life you signed up for. you don’t really think that much of it as the two of your part ways and go about your days.

so when you return back to the Crest and there’s a neatly bowed box on the bed, you can’t suppress the happy grin that overtakes your face as you lift the top of the box and reveal the neatly folded fabric of the dress from the window. in a moment of pure awe, you run the tips of your fingers over the thin material, delicately tracing the small flowers.

you are pretty sure Din is still out on patrol, doing his rounds in making sure security was up to par for the events tonight. you wish you could have thanked him before getting ready, but you hope the two of you could at least catch a glance of each other once the festivities began. you know he’d more than make up for the day’s necessary distance between the two of you once you returned home for the night, but it would have been nice to see him while you were fresh.

you get ready quickly, showering then stepping into the dress. you’re in the middle of trying to figure out the back’s fastenings when a gruff voice comes from the threshold of your shared cabin.

“need help with that?”

you look over your shoulder at your partner with a bright smile. he’s leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, the heat of his gaze readily apparent despite being hidden beneath that T-visor. 

“yes, please,” you face forward again so he can easily reach the fastens. wordlessly, he crosses the room to stand behind you. you ease into his touch as he pulls the strings closed with deft fingers. you think for a second before speaking up again. “thank you, for this. it’s beautiful.”

din hesitates after tying the last bow, you feel him graze his knuckles over the curve of your shoulder in a gentle caress.

“we’ll be late,” his voice is thick with something that makes it sound like he’s the one who doesn’t want to go.

turning to face him, you look up at your partner through your lashes with a smile. you think it’s in the way his hands linger as they drag over your sides that makes you want to play the tease for the rest of the night.

it’s a role you’re far too good at, anyway.

“sounds good,” you stand on your tip-toes to bump your forehead against his in your usual parting gesture. 

the festival is a whirl of bright colors and music and dancing. by the time the band starts playing the slow songs, you’re barefoot with the rest of the young women and twirling around the maypole fixed to the center of the pasture. there was a lot of cooing over your dress when you first arrived, and more than a few of your partners got a little handsy, especially once the drinks started flowing. nothing you couldn’t laugh off with a small roll of your eyes and a push.

you knew your were one of the safest people in the galaxy as long as that familiar glimmer of beskar is at the corner of your gaze. you were really only interested in his hands, anyway.

it’s more than a little annoying when one of the lordling’s guards keeps approaching you for a dance. you oblige him the first time out of courtesy--he’s only a year or two older than you, and decent to look at, but you are much more interested in the group dances with the other women than the ones with the men that kept stealing your newfound friends away.

the crowd has been reduced to just adults, the children long since tucked into their beds, and the tone has changed accordingly. the guard approaches you for the third time that night, interrupting you and the girl trying to teach you the footwork of the slow song being hummed by the band.

the guard isn’t even able to open his mouth before Din materializes by your side.

“you should listen when she rejected you the second time,” his voice isn’t necessarily sharp, but it certainly isn’t friendly. “leave her be.”

“it’s the spring festival,” the guard snorts with a sneer, his eyes still raking up and down your body. you feel the heat rise to your cheeks as his gaze catches on the dress’s daring neckline. the guard’s tone goes sharp with the way men can get when they think they’re in the presence of a similarly belligerent companion. “if she’s gonna be a prude then she shouldn’t’ve--” 

Din takes one step forward.

it’s a small movement, almost unassuming--certainly unrecognizable to anyone still dancing--but he somehow manages to make it drip with promised violence.

the guard balks almost immediately, stuttering an apology before retreating. Din takes another step forward, as if to follow him, but you reach out your hand to stop him. he does so immediately, turning back to you.

“are you okay?” he lowers his head to speak to you quietly. he doesn’t let go of your hand, just rubs his thumb along the length of your palm. no matter how long the two of your have spent--traveling the galaxy, tangled in sweaty sheets, sharing meals, falling asleep against the other’s chest nearly every night--he still manages to render you breathless. 

“yeah,” you murmur, longingly looking up at him, still unsure what level of public affection he’d be willing to display while on the job.

as if in answer to your unspoken question, Din wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against his body as he lovingly nuzzles the brow of his helm against your forehead. it’s somehow infinitely more intimate than any kiss could have been. 

“have fun,” he tells you as he pulls away, retreating with no more than a brush of his curved knuckles against your cheek. you lick you lips, wanting nothing more than to take his hand and march him straight back to the Crest--or, well, straight back to your bed, that is. or any bed. even one of the pallets of hay tucked in the alleyway would’ve been fine.

instead, you turn back to your cohort, dance with the tittering girls until your feet hurt and a sheen of sweat glazes your skin.

the night is one of laughter and flowers and bright bursts of light. and when the band stops playing, Din is there to lead you home. he’s there to sweep you off your feet in a bridal carry once the two of you enter the empty stretches of the street. he’s there as you giggle and peck the side of his helm in appreciation, leaning your cheek against his shoulder. 

you’ve never been luckier. you know that for sure.

[inkformyblood]

kept on running

Commander Cody Week Day 07: Missing Perspectives @commandercodyweek

Pairing: Cody & Rex, Codywan

Summary: In the quiet after the battle, Rex goes to find Cody.

“Hey, vod.” Rex’s voice was barely louder than a whisper amidst the ever-present rumbling of the engine, a constant vibration like a gigantic beast, and the faint bubbling of the bacta tanks tucked along the back wall of the room. It woke Cody in an instant, his eyes snapping open and staring out at the fragmented grey of the medbay before his gaze focused, trailing along the bright paint on Rex’s armour to his exhausted grin.

“You should be asleep,” Cody murmured, but still carefully moved back along the narrow cot, drawing back the blanket to make a space for Rex to slip into. 

The air of the medbay bit at Cody’s bare skin and the shiver rattled through him like an earthquake, as Rex slipped out of his remaining armour with practiced fluid motions, stacking it in the small hollow in the wall. It felt strange without his armour or his blacks on  — the fabric having been cut away hours before beneath the careful supervision of Helix to expose the constellation of bruises forming over his ribs. 

“It’s been a day.” Rex’s voice cracked as he spoke, a vast undercurrent of unspoken worries struggling to break free past his iron control. Cody’s heart twisted in his chest, regret flooding his chest and drowning the words he wanted to say. 

It wasn’t fair, this life they had been sentenced to, this war they had been born to fight.

The cot groaned beneath Rex’s weight as he curled up next to Cody, one arm tucked awkwardly into the space between them as the other was thrown across Cody’s hip, carefully steering clear of the heavy bandages around his chest. His eyes were dark, half-shadowed and gleaming like the edges of deep space as his gaze searched Cody’s face. 

Cody bit back a grunt of effort as he moved, the muscles in his arm contorting just shy of pain as he moved to cup Rex’s head — offering his arm as a pillow — fingers working into the rough hair at the nape of his neck. 

“You don’t have to carry it all alone, Rex’ika,” Cody murmured as Rex’s eyes slowly drifted closed, their chest rising and falling in unison. 

“I know,” came the reply, half-lost as Rex yawned, curling into Cody’s chest even further. “You don’t either.”

Rex’s short hair scratched at Cody’s throat, but he accepted it gladly, tipping his head back to settle his chin on top of Rex’s head. His breath was warm and damp against the base of Cody’s throat, carrying with it the familiar scent of caff and ozone from the blasters that clung to everything. 

He was struck with how tall Rex had gotten. Cody could remember, as clearly as if it had been yesterday, how easy it had been to scoop Rex up — all compact limbs that were too big for him still — and settle him on his hip whenever the other clone had begun to fall behind. Alpha-17 had called him ‘gar’prudii’ and the moniker had stuck for the longest time. Wherever Cody went, Rex wasn’t far behind, a little blond shadow peering out from behind Cody’s legs and ready to interject himself into whatever argument on his behalf. 

Cody couldn’t even remember what one particular argument had been about, only that Alpha-17 had moved to clip him round the back of the head — the motion slightly harder than it should have been — before quickly aborting the action to instead scoop Rex up, swearing up a storm as the younger clone had kicked the exposed spot on his ankle. 

“I see that he’s taking after your style,” Alpha-17 had laughed despite himself, limping a few steps back as he threw Rex back into Cody’s waiting arms.

Cody sighed, feeling the weight of the burden he had carried for so long press him into the mattress. It took some effort to move enough to press a kiss to the crown of Rex’s head, moving in fractions in order to not disturb his sleeping brother, but it was worth it.

Footsteps moved across the medbay beyond the curtain, careful and hushed, but almost rhythmic in time with the rumbling of the engines. The thin curtain revealed the vague outlines of another clone, and moved back silently at Helix’s touch. He stopped for a moment, fingers knocking against his grey-patterned helmet in silent apology, before checking the data readouts. It was impossible to read his expression given that he almost never removed his helmet, but Cody studied the slant of his shoulders, tried to read the glowing letters reflected on his visor regardless. 

“I’ll make a note you’re both here,” Helix murmured, his head tilted in a way that reminded Cody of a smile, before letting the curtain fall once. 

Cody listened to his footsteps move away once more, the noise rising and falling in time with the beating of his heart, unaware that sleep had overtaken him inch and inch until he was broken out of that slow fall by another movement. 

“Sir, you’re meant to be on bed rest,” Cody hissed, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of Obi-Wan. He could only see the faintest movement of pale cream fabric, but heard Obi-Wan’s low chuckle, his hand impossibly warm as he smoothed it over Cody’s shoulder. 

“I wanted to check on you, cyar’ika,” the man murmured, leaning forward so Cody could see him. Each and every time, Cody thought that the next look would be the one that didn’t rob him of his breath, that didn’t cause his heart to beat fast, and everytime came away bewildered and overjoyed. 

Above them, the monitor flashed in warning, and Obi-Wan laughed once more, his grin threatening to split his face in two at the implication. 

“Sir.” Helix’s admonishment carried like a sigh, his footsteps trailing over into the steady beat of a tapped foot like a ticking clock. 

Obi-Wan curled over Cody to kiss him. The angle was off, barely allowing them anything more than a brief whisper of a kiss, Obi-Wan’s beard scratching against the corner of Cody’s mouth, but Obi-Wan’s grin was warm against his lips. Drawing back, the Jedi kissed Cody’s temple, whispering something he couldn’t quite catch before moving away. 

Cody shivered, the movement transmitting into Rex who only moved impossibly closer, nose bumping into the lines of Cody’s throat. Drawing the blanket up exposed his feet to the bite of the night air — Rex’s legs curled with his feet tucked next to Cody’s knees — but it was bearable as Cody tucked the blanket carefully around his sleeping brother. 

“Night,” he whispered to no-one in particular, and let himself fall into sleep once more, content and warm and loved.

[zapsalis-d]

Bombshell: Chapter Four — Reminisced

bombshell’s masterlist || main masterlist

Summary: While you welcome your Mandalorian guest into the palace as he awaits the repairs to his ship to complete, you find yourselves unknowingly drifting closer to each other despite your many disputes.

Word Count: 4.3k

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After preparing yourself in your quarters, you just so happen to bump into Din on your way to the dining room. Neither of you uttered a word to each other, the entire walk there spent in a tense silence. You couldn't seem to form any words that wouldn't spark an argument between you two, and that was the last thing you needed at the moment. It would make this lunch more awkward than it already would be, that's for certain.

Once entering the dining room alongside the beskar-clad Mandalorian, you're instantly greeted by the prince of Tasseth as he stood from his seat and stepped towards you in greeting. You knew what he was looking for after so long without seeing each other — it had been a couple months since he took off to take care of his own responsibilities. He leaned in for a kiss, aiming for your lips though when you shifted slightly he had no other choice than to place one on your cheek instead. You weren't in the mood to pretend-kiss, after all. Especially not in front of Din. If he didn't know about your marriage already, he must have realized right about now.

Stealing a brief glance back at him, you noted the way his visor trailed around anywhere that wasn't on you or the prince. Your heart dropped, shattering into a million pieces at the thought of you causing him to feel bad. You wanted nothing more than to assure him that you didn't love Declros at all, that this was simply an arranged marriage you didn't even accept, that the baby was his...

Maybe you were thinking about it too much. Perhaps he didn't even feel anything towards this — that he was solely averting his gaze to give you guys your privacy.

You shook the thoughts out of your head, stepping towards the dinner table alongside the prince as your mother welcomed both you and your Mandalorian guest. Your mind wandered back to why your mother even suggested for Din to come over and eat, knowing full well your past with him. Not to mention she detested him; so, none of this made coherent sense.

The three of you sat at the table, Din taking the seat directly in front of you and right besides Declros — which may be a bit uncomfortable for him... actually, this entire lunch must be out of his comfort zone. You had no clue why he even accepted. If it were just to see you for an extended amount of time or if he — being the respectful man he's always been — didn't want to refuse the offer and make your mother feel bad about it. If the latter were the case, you would've told him it didn't matter, that your mother wouldn't have been offended if he declined.

Well, too late now.

As always, you spent most of the time in complete quietude while eating from your dish. No, more like devouring it. You couldn't help it. You're pregnant, eating for two. Well, your hunger wasn't exactly the only reason you kept silent. Partly because your mother and the prince wouldn't quit rambling off about Tasseth, Rainoh, all that political planetary crap you didn't give a kriff about.

Poor Din spent the entire time having to listen in on their boring conversation and watch the rest eat while he couldn't, due to his Creed. Perhaps that was the single reason the queen had invited him over — to make him suffer for returning. If that were true, that was a horridly loathsome plan you wished you had known and alerted Din about it before he came over. While Din made the blood boil in your veins and made you want to yell at him at times, you wouldn't ever desire this for him. He didn't deserve that. Your mother couldn't seem to understand it.

Though when the conversation was directed to him instead, you knew that made this situation even worse for him. "Why haven't you eaten, Mandalorian?" Your mother questioned, the familiar taunting lacing her tone especially audible. She recognized exactly why he couldn't eat in front of them, and you finally concluded that her shrewd intention of requesting him over was only to bring misery to him. "Is the cooking bad? Not your taste?"

He shook his head before politely declining, "I'm sure the food is just fine. But it's forbidden for me to remove my helmet in front of others. I can't eat right now."

The prince raised a brow at his statement, peering over at the fully-armored Mandalorian. "Really? Not even someone you truly love is allowed to see your face?"

Tension filled the air at the question. You knew the full meaning behind that question, you and Din both did. Declros undoubtedly knew about your past with Din, and you suspected he was in on this little plan the queen had as well. You visibly gulped, your eyes lowering as you leaned back in your chair, only wanting to sink away into your seat, and certainly Din felt the same from the overwhelming pressure laid on him.

He only responded with a shake of his head.

Yet the prince wasn't quite finished with his questions. "Not even in the case of an emergency? What if the only way to save someone was to remove your helmet?"

Now he crossed a line there.

"Well!" You interrupted once noticing Din beginning to struggle in finding a response, while also hoping to change the conversation. You couldn't put Din through this — he didn't have to answer Declros, nor did the prince have the right to even question his Creed. Your gaze met with the black visor of Din's helmet before you continued, "Lunch was great! I think the Mandalorian is needed back at the ship's hangar, correct? I believe the repairs are completed by now — if not, then the repairmen must be close to finishing."

Lies. That ship was in terrible condition, it would take rotations to fully fix. You hoped Din would pick up on your intent to get him out of this situation instead of assuming you were chasing him off again.

Din nodded in approval, "Yes. I should check on my ship right now. Thank you for the invitation, though."

"That's fine. If the repairs aren't quite finished yet then feel free to take one of our rooms," your mother suggested.

Again, being strangely hospitable. Very unlike her.

Maybe she had something further planned than to simply bother the Mandalorian here at the table. Hopefully, Din noticed her suspicious act and wouldn't accept.

"Thank you," he said as he stood from the table. "But I'm sure I'll be okay in my ship."

You shared a quick glance with him before he dismissed himself, walking out of the dining room. You let out a breath and pushed your empty plate previously filled with food away from you, indicating your full stomach. "I'll be resting in my quarters in case either of you need me," you stated before briskly standing from the table and leaving as well.

Though instead of heading towards your room, you walked towards the gates — to Din. No matter how many times you told yourself this was a bad idea, you couldn't seem to control yourself as you continued through the halls, hastily attempting to catch up with the Mandalorian before he exit the palace. You weren't sure what impulsed you to do this but it was all on your mind now.

Once meeting up with him just before he reached the gate, his visor turned to face you as if expecting an explanation for your little pursuit. You struggled to find an excuse to speak with him, finally settling with, "Can I at least walk you to your ship?"

The two of you continued stepping closer towards the gates as you spoke. "I appreciate it but no, it's okay."

You were downright disappointed at his response, and couldn't help but feel a certain annoyance towards him. "I see your stubbornness hasn't change either," you muttered loud enough for him to hear. In an instant, you closed your mouth, wanting nothing more than to take back those words.

He stopped in his tracks in front of you, causing you to halt as well and almost crash into him. You stared up into his dark visor, a menacing glare plastered all over your face. With the tilt of his helmet, you could tell you ignited yet another argument. "We're gonna do this again? Continue arguing until I'm gone and  you never see me again?"

You sighed, dropping your glare and attempting to take control over yourself before you said anything else you would regret in the future. "No, Din. I don't want to argue anymore, I'm tired of that. But I need to know one thing," you paused while thinking over your words correctly. Sucking in a sharp breath, you continued. "Did you... get sick of me?"

The quiver in your voice didn't go unnoticed. He didn't respond and you could tell he was taken aback by your accusation. "Just tell me," you shrugged your shoulders. "It... it doesn't matter anymore, honestly."

Of course it mattered to you. Or else you wouldn't be on the verge of breaking down into sobs right now.

It seemed like he was calculating his words for an eternity, and eventually you gave up with a shake of your head. "Forget it. You can head back to your ship, I don't care."

You pulled away from him, continuing the opposite direction only for him to call your name. You halted upon hearing his voice, your head whipping around to face him in hopes of him having an answer. Though when he couldn't seem to find a response, only standing there with a certain slump to his shoulders you recognized when he was at a loss for words, you turned without looking back this time.

His footsteps were heard as he made his way towards the gates, and suddenly you felt a sharp breeze find its way towards you. You shivered, furrowing your brows as you spun around to find the source of the piercing wind blowing into the palace. That's when you noticed the powerful snowstorm hailing down on the planet of Rainoh, Din standing in front of the open gates as his cape swished from side to side due to the violent gusts.

The guards immediately closed up the gates, denying access for Din to leave. Yet he continued insisting, despite the obvious signs of a dangerous storm that could put his life at risk. There was a certain urgency in his voice as he let the guards know about the importance of him returning to the ship, yet they didn't let him through.

You sighed as he continued quarreling with the guards. Reluctantly, you stepped over to him. "Mandalorian," you called. He froze for a moment upon hearing your familiar voice, before his visor shifted to face you. "Come with me."

As you spun around, from the corner of your eye you caught the hesitation in his stance before he decided to follow. He trailed closely behind you as the two of you walked in complete silence, only the sound of your footsteps audible as you led him down the grand hallways of the palace. Once arriving at the entrance of your room, you twisted the knob to open up the door and reveal your quarters. "Come on," you gestured for him to enter when you noticed the way he paused. "You'll be able to see your ship from my balcony if that'll help."

He then stepped inside before you closed the door behind him. By the way his visor trailed all around your room, you could tell he was reminiscing in certain memories made in this exact place. You let out a quiet sigh, shuffling past his armored figure to get to the glass balcony doors. Since snow was now teeming down, it was impossible to be able to stand outside for even five seconds before being completely covered in the white substance. Good thing was, you had a little something installed whenever you were found under these circumstances.

With a push of a lever found on the side of the doors, a tinted glass began appearing as it lowered itself from the top of the balcony to the bottom, until it surrounded the entire place. Now that the snow no longer blew inside, it was safe to open up the balcony doors. The two of you stepped outside, "You can't be at your ship right now, but... at least you'll be able to see it from here, if that's any consolation."

He frantically searched for signs of anything wrong occurring at the ship which looked totally fine to you. The repairmen seemed to have had to evacuate for the time being, until the storm eventually passed away. Your thoughts were surrounded by questions about what the hell he was even hiding in that ship of his that was so important. Though you assumed you would never find out.

"Thank you," he finally said after a moment of quietness.

With a nod, the two of you lifted your heads to watch over the grueling snowstorm ahead of you. Another period of time without speaking took over, the thick tension once again returning and filling the air between you two. You glanced down to your toes, your mind racing to come up with some sort of conversation starter to end the awkwardness enveloping you. Just as you opened your mouth to say something, you're interrupted.

"I was never sick of you."

Your eyes remained glued to your shoes in an attempt to keep the tears forming in your eyes from being visible to him.

"I'm sorry... if my actions made you believe that. I'm not the best with words, and... feelings — that sort of stuff."

Biting your lip, you now remember full well how he could never seem to share his emotions willingly to you. Now you just felt guilty for accusing him of that, your gaze lifting to meet with his T-visor. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even mentioned that."

"Don't worry about it."

You managed a soft smile to form on your lips before you both directed your attention ahead again. This time, during your quietude, it felt slightly more comfortable.

In your peripheral vision, you caught Din stealing a glance down at your belly again. Then, "How long 'till you're due?"

Automatically assuming he was speaking about the baby, you responded with, "Halfway through already. Should be another five months left."

"You know the gender yet?"

You couldn't help the gentle grin appear on your face at realizing Din showed an interest towards your baby, despite him having no idea it was even his.

"Nope," you answered. "I decided to keep it a surprise until its born."

"I'm happy for you."

There was a tinge of regret, and gloom in his tone only you would be able to pick up through the heavily-modulated voice. You wanted to tell him, so bad. But you couldn't put him through that — he was going to have to leave anyway. If he knew the baby was his, it would make it even more difficult for him. Whether you wanted to believe it or not, it was in his best interest for him to not have that sort of knowledge.

"Thank you," you beamed up at him.

Then you felt it.

A flutter, coming from your womb. Your baby was moving inside of you, and for the first time ever you could actually feel it. It was a euphoric moment, and you couldn't help but let out a short gasp upon realizing it. Your fingers moved to your small, swollen belly in an attempt to perceive it with your own hands.

"What? What's wrong, are you alright?"

A gloved hand was placed on your shoulder, and your eyes flickered to the man who tilted his helmet in concern for you. You chuckled at the thought of him immediately assuming the worst when he heard your surprise.

"No, nothing! I just... I think I felt the baby moving, for the first time." Softly, you grasped Din's free hand and brought it down until it was placed over your belly for him to feel it for himself. "Can you feel it? It was right here."

The flittering continued in that same spot, though Din didn't seem to be able to notice it. "I can't feel anything," he answered, the disappointment in his voice audible. You could tell he was intrigued about it when he shifted his hand around in an attempt to find the source of the fluttering, and you couldn't help but find that... endearing.

"Nothing at all?"

He shook his head.

That's when he removed his glove, revealing the tanned skin on his bare hands and wrist. He repositioned it on your stomach, his other hand finding its way to the small of your back. Oh, how you longed for his bare touch like this... his hands were constantly warm in comparison to yours, and you recalled a time when you would take that as an excuse to hold his hand. It wasn't like he minded either.

"What about now?"

"I think..." he froze for a second, attempting to feel the baby in your belly still moving around. "I think— yeah, I feel it!" The exhilaration in the way he spoke and his soft chuckled caused you to giggle eagerly along with him.

Here he was getting excited over a baby he had no clue was even his own.

You gave him a bright look as you stared into his visor for a moment, and you knew he was smiling widely back at you beneath the helmet covering his features.

He deserved to know.

There was a moment of hesitation before you opened your mouth to say something, to tell him that he was going to be a father. But you couldn't. And your mouth shut closed immediately after. You couldn't put him through that... the idea of you and Din living a felicitous life along with your baby together was impossible, and it had to be erased from your mind completely. Because it won't ever happen — it never will. The two of you had your chance before. It wasn't taken, and there's nothing that can be done about it now.

Averting your gaze as soon as you found your emotions were getting the best of you, you looked ahead over at the storm that had recently passed away. Din pulled his hands away from you, covering his bare hand with his glove. "The storm's over," you observed. Classic Rainoh. One second it'll be snowing like crazy and the next thing you know, everything's calm again.

"I'll head back to my ship, then."

You nodded, turning to at least walk him out your room if he wouldn't allow you to do so towards his ship for whatever reason. You stopped in front of your door, "Since you couldn't eat back at the table, do you want me to send something over to your ship?"

"I've got enough back in the Crest for now," he assured. "But thank you."

"Alright," you said. "Just let me know, then."

Just as you were about to open the door and allow Din to exit, someone knocks on the other side and you retract your hand in an instant. Your eyes widen upon hearing the prince calling your name, the blood draining from your face realizing there would be a huge misunderstanding if he caught Din in your room. Sure, you could explain with all honesty that he was here purely to watch over his ship, but whether he would believe it or not was the problem. Given your past with the Mandalorian bounty hunter... it would absolutely cause some suspicion.

Cursing under your breath, you shot a panicked glance over at Din. His stance gave away his unease as well, his gloved hand involuntarily hovering over the blaster in his holster from pure instinct. You mouthed a 'what do we do?' just as the prince called from the other side again, causing you to respond with, "Give me a second, I-I'm changing!"

The two of you desperately searched around the room for a solution, an alternative exit or some sort of... hiding spot. That's right -- the closet! Why couldn't you have initially thought of that? You could recall the countless occasions when Din took cover in that closet as soon as any sign of your mother approaching was heard.

Din seemed to consider the same idea when he raced over to the closet, reaching to close up the door and completely conceal him from within. Biting back a nervous giggle, you begin lifting your hand to greet the prince only for something else to cross your mind, causing you to freeze in spot.

You had originally informed the prince that you were changing into a new set of clothes, yet you were still in the dress worn at the table.

"Kriff!" you whispered under your frustration. Hastily, you opted to change into the usual  comfortable attire worn when you rested. Which, you had to admit, was odd with the Mandalorian in your closet. Of course, he had seen you plenty of times before... but that was ages ago. Things were simpler back then, now it's all just a complicated mess.

Another knock. "Are you alright in there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" you grunted as you struggled to pull the fresh set of pants up over your waist.

Maker, you needed new clothes. Pretty soon, you wouldn't be able to fit in any of them.

Finally done with your changing, you stepped towards the door and met with Declros, a grin plastered on your lips in an attempt to conceal the apprehension weighing down on you. You hoped you weren't giving him any cause to feel skeptical. "Hey."

"Love, I'm leaving to Tasseth now," he stated. "Just needed a quick goodbye from you before I left."

"Oh," was all you could muster in your nervousness. You blinked a few times, searching for something else to say. "Well then, see you next time you return. I'll be waiting."

He started leaning in for a kiss again, and you internally groaned. Yet this time you didn't object and unwillingly gave him a peck on the lips, attempting to fight back a disgusted look. The last thing you wanted to be doing right now is kissing him. "Rest well," he said right before walking off.

Closing the door, you allow a breath you didn't realize you were holding in escape from your lips. For a second, you remained quiet while waiting for the receding footsteps of the prince to disappear before allowing Din to come out. "It's clear, Din."

The closet door slid open, revealing his beskar-clad figure as he stepped towards you. "Just like old times, huh?" A barely audible chuckle was heard through his vocoder.

You couldn't contain your laugh, still tinged with edginess due to the previous moment. You agreed, "Just like old times."

Turning, you opt to unlock the door only for you to be interrupted again.

"Wait."

Your head whipped around to face Din, an expectant look on your face. He seemed to calculate his words carefully, his visor trailing around the room for a moment before locking on you. "You can come over to the Crest," he offered. "If you'd like."

You shook your head, "It's fine, Din. If you don't want me there for whatever reason--"

"No, no," he took a hesitant step closer, his hands vaguely fidgeting together. "I... It's not that I don't want you there, it's the opposite, actually..." A crackle from his voice modulator was heard as he let out a frustrated breath. You reached out for one of his gloved hands, gently caressing his knuckles to urge him to go on. Despite your internally screaming at yourself to pull back your hand, that you'll end up making this more burdensome than it already is, you couldn't seem to do so.

"It's been a rough few months," Din admitted, causing you to give him a sympathetic look. "At least... come over once before I have to leave."

"Of course," you grinned softly while staring into the darkness of his visor.

With a nod of his helmet, you allowed him to leave this time. A small wave was directed towards him while dismissing him, and you shared one last glance before he walked away. You found yourself watching him for a while, his visor turning to face you for a split second right before turning a corner and disappearing from sight. Closing the door, you held a gentle smile on your lips as you climbed into bed for some well-deserved rest after the unexpectedly surprising day that wasn't quite over yet.

You weren't sure what to feel anymore. Sometimes you and the Mandalorian couldn't seem to get along at all, your quarreling continuing nonstop. While other times... it almost felt like that love between you could return if you allowed it, like it was actually possible. Almost. The both of you knew that was out of reach -- you were married now. Anything between you two, no matter how much you desired it, wasn't feasible. So if he wanted to see you one last time before he left Rainoh, then you would gladly oblige. But that's all. You couldn't risk it any further, you were bound to get hurt -- the both of you would.

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Tags: @remmysbounty @ginger-swag-rapunzel @theamuz @tillytheslytherin

[venusandromedadjarin]

Vows

Ch. 17, A Glint of Beskar

18+, smut, implied infertility, DID I MENTION SMUT, oral fem!recieving

He holds the ring in his hand, unmoving as you stare down at it, your small gasp echoing through the cockpit. The visor is tilted towards you, letting the silence blanket the room. Din finally grasps your hands and slowly kneels in front of you, watching as tears fall down your face. “Y/N, please say something,” the modulator barely catches his quiet pleading. 

“Yes,” your whisper is barely audible as you drop to both of your knees in front of him. “A million times, yes.” The tension in his shoulders immediately dissipates, the streaking stars making his Beskar shine as he looks at you through the visor. Taking your left hand, he starts to slip the ring onto your finger before stopping and looking down.

“This,” he whispers, “is made from my armor. The men don’t wear rings, we won’t have a ceremony with friends. When I give you this, we’ll repeat the words together and it will be our union. Are you sure you want this?”

You stop him from sliding it the rest of the way onto your finger by standing up and you hear his breath hitch as the visor snaps upwards to look at you, “Din, come here.” He takes your hand and stands to his full height, glancing down at the pram as he does so, almost like he knows what you’re about to say. “I want to marry you under these stars, and I want to kiss you after we say the vows. Will you let me?”

“Yes,” he breaths out. Din takes your hand again and slides the ring into place. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”

You grasp his hands in yours and look into the visor, hoping to make eye contact with him, “We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors.” Your smile makes his knees weak, and he tries to stop his tears as he breaks away from you to grip his helmet. On instinct, you close your eyes as you hear the hiss of the helmet disengage, then the clank as it’s set down somewhere. 

“Riduur,” Din’s strong hands come up to gently grasp your face, his thumbs swiping at your own tears, “open your eyes, my love.” 

The memories of the little boy you knew as a child would never do the man, standing in front of you, justice. You can’t help but study every feature of his face, every curl adorning his head, the way his lips part as he looks down at you and he holds his breath. His brown eyes stare back at you, wide with anticipation and nervousness and love, the tears streaming from them glistening in the blue light. His tan skin glows in the starlight and his hair falls haphazardly onto his brow bone, the scruff on his chin turning grey in some areas. You reach up to stroke your thumb across his cheek, and he stiffens at first before leaning into your touch and giving you permission. His eyes close at the movement, and his breathing evens out as his arms encircle your waist and pull you towards him. One hand comes up to weave into your hair at the base of your neck and your own eyes close as his lips come down to meet yours. Your hand moves to entwine with his hair, the other one resting on his bicep. Though he’s kissed you countless times, none of them compare to this. 

Even with your eyes closed, you can see the blue and white streaks of hyperspace. His tongue darts out against your bottom lips and you sigh, parting yours for him. Your tongues dance around each other as he deepens the kiss, pulling you even farther into him and at some point you feel the heat start building in your core. He feels it too, because you feel Din harden against you, his cock nudging against your stomach. “Mesh’la,” he whispers against your lips, pulling away to catch his breath. You breathe heavily against him, the Beskar on his chest digging into your breasts. “Please.” His pleading makes you ache and you sigh again, the sound making his cock twitch against you. He reaches down to click the buttons on his arm to move the pram, and it floats toward the hull. Once it’s gone, Din grasps your jaw and gently forces you to look up at him, “My beautiful wife, let me show you much I love you.” You gasp as he kisses you swiftly before dropping to his knees, the Beskar clanging against the floor. He looks up at you with those brown eyes, and you feel the heat pool between your legs as he lifts your shirt up, moving your hands to hold it against your breasts, “Don’t move until I say so.” 

You nod, your lips parted and swollen as you grasp the shirt against your chest. Din lets his finger tips graze against your skin, and you realize he hasn’t even taken his gloves off. The movement causes goose bumps to raise along the trails he traces. He lays a few wet kisses against your stomach, before turning his attention to your boots. After discarding them, he grips your waistband and pulls your pants and underwear down, helping you step out of them. The cool air makes you shiver and the fact that his face is so close to you while you’re slick with desire makes you moan. He runs his fingers up your inner thigh, causing your breath to hitch and he looks up at you, his eyes dark with want. Din pauses his movements against your leg, only to drag his hand down until he wraps his fingers around your ankle and lifts your leg so that it’s hooked over his shoulder. The Beskar digs into your skin as he leans forward to run his tongue through your folds. You cry out, almost dropping your hands from cupping your breasts but he tsks against you and whispers, “Don’t move, or I’ll stop.” You whimper when his strong hands grasp your ass, holding you in place, his breath teasing your clit. 

“Din…” you trail off when he leans forward again, slowly licking you and flicking his tongue against your clit, the bundle of nerves shooting electric sensations throughout your body. He lazily licks you, dipping his tongue in and out of your pussy before sucking on your clit, until you tremble against him. Finally, when the stars streaking above you mix with the stars you see in your vision, he pulls you even closer to him and snakes one of his hands between your legs from behind. His forearm presses into your ass as his fingers tease your entrance and you cry out again. He brings his other hand up to cup your breast under the shirt, pinching at your nipple as he bites at your hip. The leather of his gloves is rough and smooth all at the same time, making his touches extra sensitive against your skin. 

“You can touch me now.” Without hesitation, you drop your hands to grab at his hair gently. All of the sensations he is providing explode when his thick digit enters you, quickly followed by another and then a third. He curls his fingers just right, and you come undone. Trembling, you almost sink down but he holds you in place. As you finger fucks you through it, he moves the pilot chair with his other hand. He quickly pushes you down into it and removes his fingers, only to replace them with his mouth as he licks up your juices. The feeling of him sucking on your clit sends you over the edge again, the overstimulation making the second orgasm almost painful as it rips through you with white hot intensity. He doesn’t stop his assault on your clit until you’re a mess of moaning and heavy breathing, the trembling subsiding. “I believe I can give you one more, my love.”

“Din… fuck me,” you whine as you look at him with heavily lidded eyes. His chin is slick with your cum as he unhooks your legs from around his shoulders. Din sucks on one of his gloved fingers before biting the leather and pulling it off, quickly discarding the other one, too. He stands, looking down at you as he starts disengaging the armor. Slowly, he pulls it off, laying it down gently to the side. He knows the rate he’s going at is making you ache, and he watch as you reach down to try to give your aching pussy some relief. You moan when your fingers brush your clit, and he lets out a low groan at the sight of watching you. Finally, he discards his shirt, his tan and muscular skin slick with sweat and glowing from the stars. He drops his pants and kicks them off, his cock springing up against his stomach. You’ve felt the length of it enter you so many times, but this is the first time you’ve seen it and you gasp a little. He strokes the entire length of it, throwing his head back and letting out a low groan again, before reaching for you and hauling you to your feet. “Din-“

Your protest is cut short when he picks you up and pushes you against the controls. They dig into your back, but the pain makes your pussy throb as he reaches down to position himself against your entrance. You wrap your legs around his waist, his tip teasing your clit, and you look up at him, in awe of the man that’s looking down at you. He smiles, making your heart and pussy flutter, before dipping down to kiss you. With a thrust, he sinks inside of you, both of you moaning through the kiss. Din bites your bottom lip gently as he sets a slow, but deep pace. Since you’re still sensitive, the overstimulation makes your pussy clench around him and he throws his head back. You wrap your hands into his hair, pulling him back to look at you as you kiss him again. He smiles against your lips before you move to kiss his jaw line, his cheek bones, his nose, and finally his neck. As you suck at his pulse point, his pace picks up and you moan, the sound echoing through the space. “Look at me, mesh’la.” You do as he says and look up at him, fighting the urge to close your eyes as the tension in your core tightens, threatening to snap at any moment. He reaches his hand between your bodies, never breaking eye contact, to rub your clit and it sends you over the edge as you pant out his name, trembling against him. His hips still against you, and you feel him cum, shooting his seed into you. 

We will raise our children as warriors.

The vow rushes through your mind as he collapses against you, both of you breathing heavy and trembling. As he kisses your neck, you can’t help the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. 

Taglist: @greatcircle79​

[dearophelia]

combat, i’m ready for combat

long live :: seven of wands :: combat, i’m ready for combat

It's suddenly become very important that Hannah knows what her child faces when she jumps out of a shuttle.

“Zaeed suggested we do an Armax match,” Hannah says, over coffee.

“That's,” Olivia blinks and looks up, starting to approach morning coherency. “That's actually a really good idea.”

“Liv.” She'd been hoping Olivia would help her talk Zaeed out of it. While part of her knows that running through at least one match is the good and sensible thing to do, the rest of her wants to stick her head in the sand and pretend that reapers are just some nightmare that will fade away when she wakes up. They aren't, but that doesn't stop her from hoping.

Olivia swallows a mouthful of coffee and then covers a yawn. “It's a good idea. It'll help you feel comfortable shooting at things that are moving. Hopefully,” she starts a new sentence before Hannah can jump in, “hopefully you'll never have to. But,” she pauses, “I’d feel a little better, I know Zaeed would, and I think you would too, if the first time you had to hit a moving target was not the first time you'd tried.”

Hannah sighs. Zaeed would cancel if she really wanted and Olivia won’t push it if she asks her not to. But much as she doesn't want to admit it – they have a point. She can hit a stationary and labeled target pretty reliably, but in reality that isn't going to do her a damn bit of good.

***

Olivia uses her pass to book the Arena after hours one night. She's been using it for practice with her team, trying new tactics, weapons, and squad configuration. Armax is more than happy to let her have it after the incident with their scoring system.

Hannah watches in fascination as Olivia straps on her armor. She's seen her daughter in full battle gear before, but never watched the process. Boots, greaves, helmet, gauntlets, shoulders – all black with bright purple accents. Garrus helps Olivia with the shoulder seals of her chest piece and then she's in. Olivia shakes out her arms and bounces around a bit, making sure everything's properly in place.

She actually looks excited.

They're fighting holographic enemies. There's no audience, nothing real at stake. And yet Hannah's scared out of her mind. And her daughter is grinning.

Olivia cracks her neck and turns around. Her grin immediately vanishes – Hannah wonders just what expression was on her face to cause Olivia make an abrupt left turn like that – and she gives her a quiet little comforting smile instead. “I promise. No one's out there. They're not recording this. We're playing on bronze. We've,” she gestures to herself, Garrus, and Zaeed, “got you covered, Mom.”

That Olivia considers this playing is something Hannah thinks she ought to have examined by a professional. “Remind me why we're doing this?”

“Because actual reapers don't stand still in a shooting range with a target on their foreheads.” Zaeed comes up behind Hannah and kisses her cheek. Hannah leans into him a little.

“Be nice if they did,” Olivia says, rotating her shoulder. She got caught by a charging brute last week and she's still a little sore. “How's the armor feel?”

Hannah twists her torso. She's borrowing a set from Liara; Armax requires armor for all combatants and Olivia looked at her like she was nuts when she mentioned renting some from the arena. It fits a bit awkwardly – too tight in the shoulders, too loose in the chest – but it's so much lighter than the suit Ashley offered. She can actually move in this one without feeling like the local gravity quadrupled. “Strange.”

“You get used to it,” Olivia says and checks the capacity on her Black Widow.

Hannah's not sure she wants to get used to armor, but doesn't say so.

“Ready?” Zaeed asks.

Hannah blinks.

“You don't actually have to do this, Mom,” Olivia says quietly, taking a step closer so the two men know to keep their noses out of it. “Say the word. We'll cancel the whole thing and go get dinner.”

Hannah shakes her head and takes a sharp breath. “No. Let's do this.”

“You sure?” Olivia puts one gloved hand onto her mother's arm.

Nodding, Hannah settles her hand over Olivia's. “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Olivia gives her arm a little squeeze she can't feel through the armor and lets go. She stands next to Zaeed and Garrus at the elevator doors. “We're gonna be on Giant, which is a pretty big map. So if all else fails – run the other way.”

“That's your last piece of advice?” Hannah steps up onto the elevator platform with the others. The elevator rises into the arena.

Olivia shrugs and the map starts to load around them. “Works every time. Good hunting.” She taps each of the guys on the shoulder.

“Good hunting,” Garrus and Zaeed echo, giving Olivia and each other the same pat. They take off to set up on opposite sides of the map.

Hannah turns and again finds her daughter grinning beside her as the drone counts down to the beginning of wave one. “Am I going to hate this?”

“Probably,” Olivia says, and motions for Hannah to crouch down behind a crate. “Shoot at the stuff that shoots at you, run when we tell you, and it'll all be over in less than twenty minutes.”

Hannah takes a deep breath as cannibals start to spawn.

***

Three matches in and she gets the hang of it. It even starts being a little fun. The others rack up medals and points and headshots, but Hannah gets a little less scared, a little more willing to run out of cover, as they keep going.

“That doesn't count,” Garrus says as he and Olivia stand beside a smoking ravager corpse.

“Why not?”

“It doesn't have a head. You can't get a headshot on something that doesn't have a head.”

“Zaeed,” Olivia says into their comms, “we need a judgment call here. Oh,” she gently pulls Hannah back, away from the corpse. “Don't stand in ravager blood.” There's a look in her eyes that tells Hannah she tried that once and it ended badly.

“Did the arena record it as a headshot?”

Olivia pulls up the kill feed on her omnitool as the next wave starts to spawn. “No.”

“Then it doesn't count.”

“I got it right in the center circle thing!”

Hannah starts to fidget. There are enemies – on the other end of the map, but enemies heading their way – and these three are just standing around in the open arguing the validity of a headshot. She ducks behind a container.

“Doesn't count,” he repeats.

“Oh, stop,” Olivia scolds. She turns around and shoves her omniblade into the husk that had been hitting her. “Fine, the ravager shot doesn't count.”

As the others seem unconcerned by the banshee or the brutes headed their way, Hannah begins to realize just how easy they've been taking it. This – lazy enemies with grenades that hardly touch her shields, one banshee at a time – is not their reality.

It's not her daughter's reality, which stirs up something low and scared at the base of her spine.

“Make it harder,” she says when the match is over.

“You sure?” Zaeed asks.

Hannah nods. “Yeah.”

Silently, Olivia bumps it to silver.

A match later, Hannah has to watch from her visor's spectator mode as Olivia solos the back half of wave ten. A lot of things went sideways: Zaeed got slammed into the floor by a brute, Garrus got picked up by a banshee, and she got eaten by a cannibal before she had a chance to revive herself.

(It was for the better. She'd be useless to Liv anyway, probably a liability. They got all the devices activated, at least.)

The arena camera cuts to a front angle of Olivia, who doesn't look scared or even challenged while she works on the two banshees. Mostly she looks bored. Bored and a little hungry.

Olivia takes cover around a door and reloads her Black Widow. With a centering breath, she pops around the corner. In two final shots, both banshees scream and fall. She grins, blows imaginary smoke off the end of her rifle, and winks at Garrus as he stands up and dusts himself off.

This still isn't Olivia's reality.

Hannah swallows, hard.

She pauses behind the others as they get off the elevator after the match. “What does it look like when you're actually fighting?”

Olivia freezes and slowly turns around. “What do you mean?”

“When you're out there, fighting. What's it like?”

There's a look that passes between Olivia and Zaeed. It's a heavy look, a protective look, a we agreed not to tell her about this look, and it nearly makes Hannah cry.

“Tell me,” she insists.

“It's usually like gold. Sometimes the single-enemy platinum waves,” Olivia says softly. Her eyes briefly flick sideways – she's lying, understating reality to make her mother feel better.

“Can we,” Hannah's throat is suddenly dry and it has nothing to do with the exercise. She swallows. “Can we try that?”

It's suddenly become very important that Hannah knows what her child faces when she jumps out of a shuttle.

A look passes between all three of them this time, but it's less heavy, more calculating. Can we carry her through this?

Hannah's dead weight and she knows it, but as the seconds tick past, this becomes more and more something that she has to do. She needs to know that she can stand in front of the same things Olivia can. She runs a fucking bakery, but there's no way in hell she's okay with her kid being out there, trying to save a galaxy that seems hell bent on not being saved, when she can't even face Olivia's daily life when it's presented to her in a holographic combat simulator.

“I soloed Platinum a couple times,” Olivia says, breaking the brief silence.

Hannah hears the translation: we'll be fine. The two men shrug and nod in agreement.

“We can do gold, but in a couple days. I think we're done for the night.”

Without another match in front of her, Hannah realizes how exhausted she is. Olivia, Garrus, and Zaeed look like they could go a few more rounds, but they're career soldiers. She works out regularly, but she's not nearly in the shape they are. She nods as she turns her back to Zaeed so he can help her unseal her armor. “Okay.”

Hannah doesn't see the look on Olivia's face.

The one that begs him, Please talk her out of this, I don't want her to know.

[bopbopstyles]

6. Heartbeat

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 9.8k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK TO JOIN THE TAGLIST

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: welcome to the land of harry as a father aka the place of my death, i hope you enjoy your stay!

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

Y/N had told Harry she’d pick him up from the airport, but now that she was parking in the arrivals lot, she was wondering if that was the wrong choice. She’d managed to keep her news a secret since she had found out, not wanting to tell Harry over the phone when he was halfway across the world, but it had been horrible. They had never kept secrets from each other, at least, not ones like this, and it was eating away at Y/N from the inside. She didn’t even know how she was going to tell him yet. There were speeches she had practiced, about how it wasn’t necessary for him to be around if he wasn’t interested, that she would do it on her own—but she didn’t know if she wanted to do it on her own? None of them had felt right though, and all of them had ended with her in a pile of tears on her bedroom floor. Her hormones were out of control lately, emotions on a rollercoaster that she was permanently strapped in for.

But she had promised Harry, and despite her fears of telling him her news, she was truly excited to see him. It had been over a month and a half and she was desperate to see his face in person, to touch his body and confirm that yes, he was in fact, real. So she got a move on, not wanting to make Harry wait for her and risk being sighted in the airport.

She bounced up and down on her toes in the arrivals hall, keys jingling in her hand as she waited to see him. He’d probably have sunglasses and a hoodie on, a few suitcases rolling behind him that she’d have to somehow find space for in her trunk. The prospect of him turning the corner had her heart leaping in her chest.

And then there he was, a black hoodie and black sunglasses, two suitcases pulled behind him, curls peeking out from the edge of his hoodie. No one seemed to have caught on as to who he was, so Y/N went for it—she did what she had always wanted people to do when she arrived places. She ran through the arrivals hall, launching herself at Harry.

His eyes met hers when she was a few paces away and his face lit up, lips turning up in a smile, dropping both of his suitcases and opening his arms for her to fly into. Which she did, full throttle, tossing herself into his arms, chuckling at the way he staggered back dramatically. Their faces met immediately, lips on one another for an innocent kiss, desperation too much for the moment.

“Hi,” he said when they pulled away, eyes glinting under the florescents. “What a nice surprise.”

“Thought I’d give it a shot,” she replied, hopping down and taking one of his suitcases from his hand. “Have a good flight?”

Intertwining his fingers with hers, they walked through the arrivals hall. People may have recognized him, but maybe out of kindness they stayed away, perhaps noticing the two young lovers caught up in one another. “Long, but I slept most of the way. Wanted to be all rested up for my girl,” he said with a wink.

Y/N gave him a playful bump with her hip and led him to her car in the arrivals lot, listening to him jabber about the other passengers in first class and how terrible the food was. He was ready for a home cooked meal, he told her, one that he had prepared, and Y/N was fully prepared for that reality, having already gone to the grocery store earlier that day.

They managed to squeeze his suitcases into her trunk and she took the wheel, letting him put on some music as she pulled out of the spot and navigated traffic out of the airport. “Feeling any better?” His question was innocent enough, but for Y/N it set off alarm bells in her head. Had he found out somehow? And then the underlying question that had been keeping her up at night since she had found out: what would he say?

“Bit,” she told him. “What do you want to do now that you’re home?” She asked, quickly turning the topic of conversation back to him, but he didn’t notice. He just yammered on about wanting to go for some hikes, go to their favorite restaurants, spend time with her catching up on the movies he had missed. Jeff was mentioned, the idea of having some friends over, and the prospect of having Jeff anywhere near them right now was an anxiety attack that Y/N had managed to hold off and was perfectly ready not to have anytime soon.

The topic switched to music, which Y/N was perfectly happy with, and she played him the Phoebe Bridgers album that she’d recently discovered. He gave her his analysis, unpacking her favorite songs in the car. Then he shared his new favorite songs, a collection of indie songs she’d never heard and the Top 40s he was loving. They analyzed them together, unpacking the elements she had grown up attuned to—the synths and the perfection of a good bridge.

Before she knew it, she was swinging into the driveway of Harry’s house, punching the garage door opener clipped to her sun visor. As she turned off the car she heard Harry sigh next to her, a wide smile on his face.

“Home sweet home,” he said, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek. “Now let’s get these suitcases inside so I can get in the shower and get all these airplane germs off of me.”

Together they brought his cases inside, locking the garage door behind them and turning off the security system. Harry praised her plant maintenance skills as they crested the stairs, pulling the heavy bags into his bedroom. He flopped down on the bed, arms outstretched for her to crawl into, which she did gladly. Upon feeling his arms close around her, she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, a weight lifted off of her shoulders from a month and a half of being separated.

“Missed you so much,” he whispered into her hair, holding her close to his body. “So happy to be home with you.”

She lifted her head from his chest and swept her fingers across his jaw. “It wasn’t the same without you,” she told him. “No one being annoying while I try to watch TV.”

“Hey!” He said, tickling at her sides. “I’m perfectly wonderful. I just like lovin’ on you.”

Y/N snuggled into him and tried to let her fears from earlier subside. She’d tell him after they made dinner, let him settle in a bit. “Go shower, you smell like plane,” she said, mumbling against his hoodie. “Want me to start anything downstairs?”

He shook his head, rolling out from under her. “Would you put my wash in though?” His eyes batted at her, as if he was a kid begging for a candy bar.

She rolled her eyes, sliding off the bed. “Yes. All of it?”

He nodded. He’d gone through a lot of clothes, obviously. So she unzipped his suitcases, unpacking his clothes and separating out the colors, making two tall piles of all his things. She made a separate pile for all the bits that needed to be dry cleaned for him to drop off tomorrow while she was at work, and took the darks into the laundry room downstairs, starting a load. Upstairs, she heard the sound of the shower and Harry singing one of his songs like the menace he was. Her eyes fell to a bottle of wine on the counter that she had pulled out for him earlier, and she remembered that she, now, couldn’t drink.

Fuck being pregnant, she thought. All she wanted was a nice big glass of wine.

But she left it be and instead lit one of his favorite candles and turned on their playlist in the speakers, letting the sound fill the house. Before long, Harry was coming down in the stairs in sweats, hair wet and floppy on his head in the way she thought made him look so young and sweet, utterly cuddly and lovable.

“Cravin’ a good bowl of pasta and some veg, how ‘bout you?” He said, making his way into the kitchen. A glass from the cabinet was pulled down, sat next to the bottle of wine she had glanced at earlier, and a question over his shoulder. “Want some?”

“No,” she said calmly. “I’m okay. And yes to dinner, sounds lovely.”

His eyebrows furrowed at her answer, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled some veggies from the fridge and grabbed a cutting board, musing to her about how he wanted to get some new towels while he prepared their dinner. As he cooked, the thought of Harry as a dad crossed her mind. An evening like this, but a baby in the mix. It wouldn’t be so bad, she decided. He’d actually be probably amazing, actually. The only problem was that the perfect moments wouldn’t be all of the moments.

Their conversation flowed easily over dinner, Y/N’s belly full from the food and the laughter from Harry’s terrible jokes. She cleared away the plates and together they washed up, Harry bumping his hip into hers as he dried the dishes. With every moment that passed, the knot in her stomach tightened at the thought of having to tell him, of breaking his fantasy of what the next few years of his life might hold—of his entire life, really.

He refilled his glass of wine and together they made their way to the couch and when they sat, Harry pulled her into his arms, cuddling her close. This was the moment, she realized. It made her stumble, trying to find the right words to tell him this kind of earth-shattering news.

“Harry,” she said, voice cracking with nervousness. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Harry’s body tightened immediately—she could feel it happen against her. “What is it?”

She straightened up, pulling herself from his embrace. She needed space if she was going to do this, the ability to think properly, and being that close to Harry made it impossible. Did she just spit it out? No pretext, just tell him? This was the part she always stumbled on, how to phrase it. But, she thought, there probably wasn’t a handbook on how to tell your boyfriend this kind of news. Especially when it’s not planned.

“Love?” He prompted, worry written all over his face.

“I—fuck,” she said, stomach seizing in worry, “I’m…” She couldn’t get the words out, they were sticking in her throat and she couldn’t find them and she wanted to tell him but she was so fucking scared of what he would say.

Harry reached out, taking her hands in his, the hard calluses of his fingers brushing over her skin. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. Whatever it is.”

Her eyes met his, and she just decided to go for it. No dancing around. “I’m pregnant.”

Harry’s eyes widened, whole body stilling. In his grip, her palms began to sweat, the nerves running through her body like a train. They just stared at each other, the news sinking in for Harry probably in the same way as it did for Y/N—the utter panic seizing him. The questions swirling around faster than he could process.

But he didn’t say anything. Just stared at her. And she didn’t know what the fuck that meant. “I know it’s a lot,” she said, the words rushing out, trying to fill the silence. “But we have options.” She used the same words as her doctor, she realized. “I’m still early enough to terminate if we wanted to, or we can do adoption, although I doubt Jeff would go for it, and I’m also happy to do it on my own.” The last one was the one that she’d given the most thought to, and she was actually okay with the idea. Having a child on her own, being a single mom. Wasn’t in the books, but it wasn’t a bad outcome. “I know you’re busy and just starting your solo career so a kid isn’t really great timing, so I can do it and you can like be in their life, I guess? Whatever you want—I’m not, I’m not expecting anything, I guess is what I’m trying to say.” The words came out like a freight train, barreling through the silence between them.

But Harry’s answer blew her straight out of the water. “You—on your own? Fuck no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not doing that.”

“You—what?”

“Y/N,” he told her, squeezing her hands. “I’m not letting you raise my kid on your own.”

The words almost made it worse because she realized once he said them, she almost wanted him to say sure, raise it on your own. Because it would be easier. “Harry,” she said softly, slowly, trying to figure out how to say this, “I’m not sure if…I want you to do it with me.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” His words cut like ice, anger clear in his voice, hands wrenching from hers as if she was on fire.

“I don’t know if I want to raise a kid with you,” she said, trying to make it as plain as possible.

The hurt in his eyes burned her to her core. All the joy in his face gone, as if a cold wind had come by and slapped him in the face. And it pained her, but it was also the best thing for her. To be able to do it on her own terms, her own pace, her own place even. “Why?” When he spoke, it was broken, a whispered question.

She bit her lip, the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill over. “My dad’s a musician. I know what it’s like to be a musician’s daughter and it fucking sucks most of the time. I saw it destroy my parents’ marriage, saw it destroy the marriages of my dad’s friends. I don’t want to put my kid through that,” she told him, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I want to be a good mom, and I don’t know think that means having you in the picture.”

Harry launched himself off of the couch, standing up with his back to her. All of a sudden, Y/N saw his shoulders shaking, the raspy sound of his cries, and she realized he was crying. She’d made him cry. Made him sob, from the sound of it. And it broke her into a million pieces, the remaining bit of her heart that she hadn’t ripped out the moment she had to tell him that she didn’t want him around for their child.

“Harry—“

“No,” he said, whirling around so she finally saw his face, the tears streaming down his face like waterfalls, red and puffy eyes. “You do not get to sit there and try and comfort me right now. You just told me that you don’t want me to be in my kid’s life!” His voice had reached a scream, the sound echoing in the room.

Y/N tucked her knees up to her chest. She knew it was going to be hard, but she didn’t expect it to be like this. Did she expected him to accept it, maybe? Be relieved? But from looking at Harry now, she didn’t know how she could’ve ever thought that. He looked devastated, utterly destroyed, as if the rug had been ripped out from under him. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice soft. “I just…”

“Y/N,” he said, struggling to stay measured, “obviously this is ultimately your decision. But I am the father, and more than anything, I’m your boyfriend. This isn’t like some one night stand—I’m—“ His voice broke, tumbling over the words. “I’m in love with you. And you’re having our baby. And I feel like you’ve completely shut me out from making any kind of decision. Like you just decided without even considering what I might want.”

“I prioritized myself,” she said, voice stern. “Because I have to carry this child for nine months. I will be there, every single day, for the rest of my life, raising this child. It will be me, Harry, not you, who will be the parent at every school function, helping with homework and dealing with nightmares. Because you will be gone half of the time. So I’m sorry if I had to put myself first, if that feels like I shut you out. But trust me when I say that I did consider what you might want.”

“But you decided that what you want is more important.”

“Not what I want,” Y/N corrected, “but what I need. What my child needs.”

“Our,” he said, cutting her off. “Our child. ’S not your child, it’s our child.”

His words stopped her dead in her tracks. He was so insistent, staring her straight in the eyes, not moving from where he stood. “Yes. Our child.”

With an exhale, Harry ran a hand through his hair, his rings glinting under the soft lights of the living room. “I understand your fears. I want you to know that. I’m fucking terrified too,” he said, a soft chuckle falling through the tension, “but I don’t plan on fucking off around the world and leaving you here to care for our child. Y/N, I want a family more than anything in the whole entire world. More than my career, more than everything.”

They’d never really had this conversation, she thought when he said those words. She knew he wanted kids, but she never knew where they ranked in his ambitions. How high up they actually were. She had assumed, she realized, that he would act the way so many others did. But Harry, he was different.

“I want to raise our child with you,” he continued, voice straining as the tears continued to fall down his cheeks. He brushed at them with the back of his hand and Y/N wished she could dry them for him. “I want to do this with you. If you don’t want me to, then I’ll respect that. But I’m not going to let you—our child—go without a fight.”

Y/N exhaled, his words hitting her like a ton of bricks. He wanted their child. He wanted to be a father, to raise a kid with her. “Are you—are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said immediately, no pause, intention clear in his tone. “Never been so sure in my life.”

“This isn’t something you get to go back on,” she reminded him. “Like, this is the rest of your life you’re committing to.”

“I know.” His voice was devoid of any doubt, just sureness, and it managed to chip away at the hard edge she’d been latching onto in an attempt to make the hardest choice of her life—pushing him away.

She looked down at her hands, the chipped blue nail polish there from Friday night when she’d been having a whole lot of deep thoughts about this conversation and the future. “Harry,” she said softly, “I’m terrified of this.”

A hand drifted through her hair and she looked up, seeing Harry crouching in front of her, eyes level with hers. “I know, baby.”

“I don’t know how to be a mom. I’m not ready.”

“Me either,” he said with a sad smile. “But we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

Slowly, she nodded and Harry exhaled, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, tears ripping through her again. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He gathered her in his arms without a second thought and Y/N folded into him, shame and regret leaking from her like a faucet. “I forgive you,” he said with a kiss to her temple. “Raising a kid with me is definitely not going to be the easiest thing in the world. That’s not your fault, and you wanting to do what’s best for our kid, even if it means me not being around? That shows how fierce of a mom you’re going to be.”

His words stirred something in her. Mom. She was going to be a mother. “You think so?”

“Going to be fucking incredible, baby.”

“You’re going to be a dad,” she whispered, looking into his green eyes, which were still red and puffy, but the sad look was replaced with one full of excitement, joy. “Gonna be a good one, too, I think.”

He smiled at her, cupping her cheek in his hand. “With you at my side, don’t know how I couldn’t be.”

Harry sat down in the pink plastic chairs, rubbing his hands on the his pants, and Y/N dropped into the seat next to him. Seeing Harry Styles in an OB/GYN clinic was quite possibly one of Y/N’s favorite things she’s ever seen. He was peeking at the women’s magazines, reading the articles about pregnancy intensely in a way that made her restrain from giggling. He even made conversation with the receptionist, asking her about her day and making sure that the appointment would be completely safe for the baby, which of course, it was.

When she made the appointment she asked to be scheduled at a time when no one else would be in the waiting room, and they managed to succeed, the seats completely empty when Harry and her walked in the door. They hadn’t decided how—or when—they wanted to announce her pregnancy or if they even wanted to. They were both deeply private people and the idea of blasting their personal lives on social media felt horrible, so they wanted to avoid it for as long as possible.

They also hadn’t told Jeff and the rest of Harry’s team yet. Harry told her he wanted to wait until he heard his child’s heartbeat, felt the reality of having a child, before he launched into that conversation with his management because it wouldn’t be an easy one. So the last thing they wanted was Jeff finding out Y/N was pregnant through paparazzi photos of them going into an OB/GYN clinic.

“Have you ever been to an OB/GYN clinic?” She asked him, propping her elbow up on the arm rest between them.

He snorted. “Why would I?”

“Dunno,” she said with a shrug. “Thought that might explain why you seem not to be overwhelmed with the amount of modeled vaginas and uteri around you.”

“That what those are?” He asked in mock surprise, pointing at the one next to them. “Well fuck. Just thought it was art.”

Y/N had to hide her face in his shoulder to keep from laughing too loudly, and when she poked her head up, Harry was looking down at her with a grin. “Glad you’re here,” she said, chin resting on his shoulder.

He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Me too, baby.”

“Gonna hear your other baby,” she said with a chuckle and Harry just looked like he had won the lottery. It was this reason that Y/N was becoming more and more okay with the idea of raising a child with Harry with every passing day. He was just so happy all the time—there was a new bounce in his step and he was utterly obsessed with picking out baby clothes. The morning after she had told him, she went downstairs to find him sat at the dining table, browsing some websites for baby clothes, selecting an entire wardrobe for his child to outfit them for their entire first year. Y/N had to physically hide his wallet and remove his computer from his vicinity to get him to stop.

Harry pulled her into his body and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You know I’ve always dreamed of doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Hearing my baby’s heartbeat.”

She kissed the exposed skin at the top his shirt at the base of his neck, hoping it would encapsulate the feeling of love radiating through her body because she truly didn’t have the words.

“Y/N?” She looked up and her OB/GYN, Dr. Crawford, stood in the doorway. Harry stood up immediately, the excitement flowing through him obvious to anyone with eyes. He held her hand as they walked down the fall to the exam room, not minding that her hand got a sweaty from the nerves. There was something mildly uncomfortable about Harry being with her at an office where she usually went to get her birth control and yearly exams, but Harry didn’t seem to mind at all. He somehow fit in, made her feel at ease, lessened the nerves with his silly jokes and tickles to her sides when she looked too intense.

“So,” Dr. Crawford said once they were settled in the exam room, Y/N on the table and Harry sat in the chair closest to her, knee bouncing up and down so fast Y/N had to lean over and stop him. “I got your results from Dr. Terrell—seems like you’re eight weeks along, now more like nine. I estimate conception was in mid September by that approximation.”

Y/N looked over at Harry, his eyes crinkling up at the edges, his thoughts probably the same as hers. “When you were home,” she said, the memory of their reunion strong. Of course it was then—she was so caught up in Harry being home she wouldn’t been surprised if she had missed a day of her pill altogether.

“And are you the father?” Dr. Crawford asked, pointing her ballpoint at Harry, a questionnaire attached to her clipboard.

“Yes,” they both said at the same time, Dr. Crawford giving them a warm smile.

He reached out a hand to Dr. Crawford as if she probably didn’t know who he was. Although maybe it was better if her OB/GYN didn’t know that the father was an international popstar? Y/N couldn’t really decide. “Harry,” he introduced himself, leaving his last name conveniently out.

“Pleasure,” she answered, shaking his hand. “Now, I’m assuming we want to meet your baby today?” Harry reached his hand over to hers, fingers interlinking as they both nodded. “Wonderful. Y/N can you lift your shirt for me?”

She rucked up the edge of her oversized t-shirt and Dr. Crawford brought over the same device Y/N had seen on TV—a transducer, her OB/GYN informed her as she lathered a cold gel over a section of her stomach. “Okay,” she said, pressing some buttons on the machine, “give me a second to find your little one.”

Harry’s eyes drifted to the screen, squeezing her hand as they both listened closely to try and hear their child’s heartbeat. The screen was grainy, lines and pockets that Y/N tried her best not to trick into believing was her child. Dr. Crawford moved the transducer around on Y/N’s lower abdomen, searching for the right spot. Panic seized Y/N the longer they waited for the heartbeat, questions swirling in her head—was there something wrong? Was the test wrong—was she not pregnant after all? Or worse—was there something wrong with their child?

And then, a solid thudding sound echoed in Y/N’s ears, and her vision immediately swam as tears welled in her eyes. It was her child, her baby, the little being she was carrying inside of her. She looked over to Harry, and he was full-on crying, wiping his nose on the hem of his sweatshirt as he stared at Y/N in awe.

Dr. Crawford suddenly sighed, and Y/N tore her eyes away from Harry to look up at the screen, where she could see, faintly, the outline of a fetus. “That’s our little Peanut,” Harry whispered to her, bowing his head so it rested on her shoulder, them both looking at the screen. “They’re real,” he said, his tears wetting her shirt and Y/N was crying as hard as him now, the sight of her child up on the screen jerking at every fiber of her body.

Peanut, Y/N thought to herself. Harry already had a nickname for their child.

“That’s them?” She asked Dr. Crawford, barely able to see the screen because of the tears.

“Yes,” her doctor replied, “that’s your baby."

Y/N turned and tugged at Harry’s face, suddenly feeling the overwhelming desire to kiss him, needing him to anchor her to the world and remind her that yes, this was real. His hands cupped her chin delicately, lips meeting. Their foreheads rested against one another’s as their tears flowed, the fact that they were actually going to be parents settling in.

“Can I—can I take a video?” Harry asked Dr. Crawford, looking back up at the doctor, pulling Y/N from their personal moment. “Want to be able to let my mum hear the heartbeat.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Let me turn up the sound.” She pressed a few buttons, and suddenly the thud of her child’s heartbeat was all Y/N could hear. She closed her eyes to the sound, letting it take root in her brain. Her hands drifted to where the transducer rested on her belly, careful not to get too close as she cupped her stomach. Perhaps it had been the anxiety over telling Harry, but she hadn’t really touched where her child was growing yet. The concept hadn’t really settled in—in fact, she had tried to avoid thinking about it because it stressed her out so much.

But now it was a reflex.

“I’ll take some pictures for you to keep,” Dr. Crawford said, pressing a button and shifting the transducer slightly. “I’ll go grab these for you,” she told them, “and then we can talk about what the next few weeks will hold.” She pulled the transducer off of Y/N’s belly, wiping off the gel, and then stepped out of the room giving the two emotional parents a moment alone.

“How is it,” Harry said, voice raw with emotion, “that I’m already so in love with them?”

Y/N pushed a strand of his hair off his forehead and wiped a tear from his cheek. “I know what you mean,” she whispered. “It’s so visceral. I can’t even explain it.”

He bent his head to hers, sighing as he shut his eyes against her skin. “I love you. I know this wasn’t the plan, but I’m so happy I don’t even know what to say.”

Her fingers swept at his neck, massaging his skin, knowing he loved the feeling. “I love you too, H.”

That night, they laid in Y/N’s bed, Harry having decided to stay for a few days while they processed everything, and stared at the photos Dr. Crawford had given them in the office. Y/N was curled up on Harry’s chest and he thought that he had truly never experienced a more perfect moment. The mother of his child curled into him, head on his chest, while they looked at the photo of their unborn child.

“Due in June,” Harry whispered. “They’re going to be a summer baby.”

“Thank god,” Y/N mumbled into his skin. “Between me in January and you in February, I truly don’t think I could handle one more Winter birthday.”

Harry laughed, her head bouncing on his vibrating chest. She managed to make every moment a little bit brighter, and feature he loved so deeply about her. Neither of them could be serious for too long, and it kept them laughing all the time, much to the annoyance of their friends when no one got their inside jokes.

He gazed at the photo of his child, his brain barely able to wrap around the fact. He had known for days, and yet he still woke up in the morning and forgot. When he saw Y/N he always remembered, but there was this second in the morning where he forgot and he hated it. He was going to be a father and he wanted to soak up every single second, revel in the reality that he was starting a family. And maybe it didn’t happen the way he would’ve planned it, but that didn’t make it any less special or exciting. Plus, his child with Y/N was going to have insanely good music taste.

The thought that he couldn’t get out of the back of his head was the fact that he was supposed to be going on tour in March. A world tour longer than the one he had just finished, from March to July with basically no breaks. As of right now, he wouldn’t even be in town for the birth of his child. And he wasn’t going to have ten days off to visit Y/N or see his mum. When he looked at his schedule earlier in the day, he had only found one substantial break—ten days in May, nestled between Japan and Argentina. That wasn’t how he wanted to do fatherhood—he wanted to see Y/N for every single second of the day, to see her belly grow and her body change, to talk to his child every night before bed as he had done last night, Y/N giggling above him. He wanted to be present, mentally and physically. He wanted to be there for the birth, at the utter bare minimum, and with the schedule he was going to miss that too.

He also knew that there was no way in hell he was going to be able to put on the kinds of shows he wanted, do the press he usually did, with a pregnant Y/N back in LA waiting for him. It wasn’t the world tour he wanted to put on, the kind of show he wanted to bring to the fans. Harry was a go big or go home kind of guy, and half-assed shows wasn’t going to cut it.

But he had no idea how to balance the two. How did he be the kind of father he wanted to be, but also the kind of musician he loved being? As much as he wanted to ask Y/N, he was scared she’d be frustrated, pointing out that this was exactly what she was afraid of. He needed a game plan before he could really talk to her about it, but that involved talking to Jeff, and he wanted to do that with Y/N there. He wanted Jeff to know that they were a family, and decisions that affected Harry were decisions that affected Y/N and their child.

So who did he talk to, then?

He didn’t have all that many friends with kids. And those he did have, most of them weren’t musicians—they were like James, people who worked in the same city as their family but traveled for work some. Not people whose entire careers were based around being gone for extended periods of time.

But, he realized, he had Adam. Adam, with multiple kids. Adam, a musician who toured—and had toured with Harry. He knew how Harry was, what kind of shows he needed to deliver, the demands of his particular brand of fame.

He glanced down at Y/N and saw her eyes were shut, arm still resting over his abdomen. Soft sighs fluttered from her lips, a sweet smile on her face—even in sleep, she was beautiful. Even more so, somehow. Harry leaned over and flicked off his light, resting the photo of his little Peanut on the bedside table so when they woke up in the morning, it was the first thing they’d see.

In the morning, Harry made Y/N pancakes and gave her a kiss goodbye before grabbing his phone, desperate to talk to someone about the thoughts raging through his head. He could barely sleep last night, the questions and scenarios like a bad movie rolling through his brain—what if he missed the birth? What if he missed the first kick? What if Y/N hated him for it, and made good on her original request—for him to not be in the picture? What if he missed out on the opportunity to be a dad?

That thought had him scrambling for Adam’s contact in his phone.

“Hello?”

Adam’s voice rang through the line and it eased an anxiety Harry had had weighing on him for days. “Hey man,” he said, settling into Y/N’s couch where was set up. “Need your advice on something.”

He heard a rustling, probably Adam sitting down and settling in for what he knew would be a long conversation, as were anytime Harry asked Adam for advice. “What’s up?”

“I need you to keep this a secret. Like, tell no one about this—literally not a soul knows except for you, me, and Y/N. Not even Jeff or my mum.”

Adam exhaled, probably understanding the gravity of it if Harry hadn’t even told Anne. He told Anne everything, which he had been told on multiple occasions was not the type of behavior common in 20-somethings men, but it was how he was. Maybe it was a product of leaving home early, or of the fact that his mum was truly his best friend. “You’re kind of freaking me out, mate.”

“You swear?”

“Of course—swear I won’t tell anyone. Not even Emi.”

Harry breathed in, then out, and then he just spilled it: “Y/N’s pregnant.”

Adam was quiet for a beat, and then, “Wow. How do you feel?”

That was the one question Harry could answer confidently. “I’m so happy that Y/N keeps telling me too stop smiling or she’s going to get me checked out,” he said with a chuckle. “Did you feel like that with Silver and Spike?”

“Yeah,” Adam said, “like my heart was going to pop out of my chest.”

That was exactly the feeling Harry had right now and hadn’t seemed to dissipate. “So, I’m happy right? So happy. But I’m also losing it—I told you about Y/N’s rule, the stuff we’ve worked through, all that. And now we’re going to have a baby. When she told me, she said she didn’t know if she wanted to raise a kid with me—because of my job.”

“Fuck.”

“I talked her back from there,” Harry explained, standing and beginning to pace, bare feet hitting her wood floors. “I told her how I wanted to be present, how it was more important than my career. But, now I actually have to make the decision, because we’ve got a tour scheduled until July and the baby’s due in June. And,” he added, “if I had it my way I would be here the whole time. I want to be here for all of her pregnancy—it’s my first kid, Adam.” His voice broke as he said those words, the reality of what this could become hitting him. “I need to experience that. And I have no idea what to do.”

Adam didn’t say anything, but Harry knew he was still there because he heard Silver talking in the background, Emi’s voice telling her to give Papa some space, which pulled on Harry’s heart. He wanted that so badly—to have someone call him Papa and crawl up his legs, demanding attention. “You haven’t talked to Jeff, yet, right?” Adam finally asked.

“No.”

“Good. Wait until you’ve got a plan of attack—you want to be really clear about what you want to do.”

Harry nodded, leaning onto Y/N kitchen island, eyes studying a crack in the countertop he hadn’t noticed before. “That was my thought too. ’S why I called you.”

“Well,” Adam said, “I’m not going to pretend like my situation was anything like yours. Completely different can of worms. But, I’ll say this—I understanding your desire to be there. I missed bits of it with Silver but got it all with Spike and it made me wish I had been there for all of it.”

“I don’t want cancel tour though,” Harry said, words heavy in his heart. The idea had him heartbroken—all of the disappointed fans? He couldn’t do that.

“No you don’t,” Adam agreed. “But your baby is due in June, so you’re going to have to cancel the US leg at the very least. You’re going to have to tour, at least for part of it. You’ll miss stuff, but that’s the way it works. There’s no way you could be around Y/N all day anyways—she’s got work, you’ve got work, you would miss things either way. But it’s different to be completely gone and it’s going to be brutal for both of you.”

“You’re really not helping,” Harry muttered, the panic resurfacing in his chest.

“Sorry,” Adam said, “I’m trying. Would Y/N go on tour with you?”

The thought flickered through Harry’s brain. It was an idea. One Y/N would probably put up a fuss about, not wanting to leave her office and friends. “Maybe for bits of it. But she works full-time and bloody loves her job. It would be hard for her to do fully remote, I think, especially halfway around the world.” “So that’s an option. As for cancelling the US dates, you can just reschedule them shows for later—maybe beginning of 2019.”

“I’m supposed to be recording then.” He’s got another album to write, after all. An album that had a strong feeling was going to be very different than anything he had done before.

“I—fuck. I mean, maybe you’ll just have to fully cut them, just do refunds.”

Harry sighed. It was, perhaps, the best he could do. Not nearly enough, but it might be all he could do. “Fans will never forgive me.”

“You’ll have to explain,” Adam reminded him. “If they know why, I don’t think they’ll hate you too much.”

He hoped not. He loved his fans and in a normal situation he would never cancel shows like this. But this wasn’t a normal circumstance. “I’ll have to talk to Jeff. He’s going to kill me.”

“Hey,” Adam said, voice softening, “he won’t. He’s going to be frustrated, sure, but not with you—more with all the people he’s going to have to call. But that’s his job, not yours. Your job is to be a great boyfriend, a great musician, and now, a great dad. Which you’re going to be. Promise.”

“Thank you,” he said, words catching in his throat. He didn’t even know he needed to hear someone other than Y/N say it until Adam did. “Needed to hear that.”

“Happy to remind you anytime,” Adam told him and Harry thought about how lucky he was to have friends like him around. “Now, I’ve got to go take Silver to a sleepover—call me if you want to talk more, though, okay? I’m around.”

“Thanks mate,” he said. “Say hi to everyone for me.”

“Harry says hi!” Adam called to his family, and Harry smiled at the yells of “HI HARRY!” that echoed through the phone. “They say hi. Talk later, man.”

“Bye,” Harry said, ending the call. He stood up straight, his hip resting against the island, and considered what Adam had said. She’d take some convincing, but Y/N might agree to go on tour with him. He didn’t know how good it would be for her to travel that much—he needed to get that checked out—but it was worth a shot. As far as canceling the shows, it would be painful, but he firmly believed it would be worth it.

He hadn’t lied to Y/N when he told her that her, their child, their life, was more important than anything. It was, which was why experiencing pregnancy with her was at the top of his list. He would do anything to be with her for it, whether he had to move tour dates or mountains—anything for her.

Motown was playing when she opened the door, the smell of something spicy hitting her nostrils immediately. Harry stood in her kitchen in her favorite apron, a towel over one shoulder and a glass of wine on the counter in front of him. He was cooking for her, dinner ready and waiting when she arrived home from work. The thought hit her like a ton of bricks: this was the life she had always dreamed of with her significant other. The simple moments of them making her dinner, of them taking care of her when she needed it most. And after today, she really needed it.

“Hi, baby,” Harry said, turning down the music so she could hear him. He wandered over to her as she slipped off her coat and shoes, arms winding around her. “How was your day?”

“Shitty,” she replied, pulling away from him. “Need to go change out of my clothes.”

“Sounds good. Dinner will be ready in ten.”

Y/N pulled off her clothes and replaced them with a soft sweatshirt and leggings, before making her way into the bathroom to take off her makeup. Eyes exhausted from staring at her computer all day, the words on the screen running together by the time she left her desk, she took out her contacts and slipped on her glasses instead, a sigh of relief leaving her body. Now she felt like she was home.

In the kitchen, Harry was plating up their food, a glass of water in a wine glass waiting for her that made her miss alcohol so much—not even in a way where she needed it, the concept of a nice glass of red wine just sounded utterly delectable.

“Made you salmon and a bunch of veg,” Harry said, pressing a kiss to her temple as she passed him in the narrow kitchen. “Was readin’ that book you have ‘bout pregnancy and saw how important it is to eat good.”

The thought of Harry sitting on her couch reading What to Expect When You’re Expecting brought a smile to her cheeks that she desperately needed after the day she had had. He had become a bit obsessed with fatherhood in the few days since she had told him the news, and each time he mentioned the new research he had been doing, it reminded her that the fears revolving through her brain all day might very well be misplaced. Maybe Harry would be able to be the kind of present father that she needed and Harry wanted to be.

“So,” he said, settling into the seat caddy-corner to her, their plates in front of them. “Tell me about this shitty day of yours.”

She took a bite of the salmon, giving him a thumbs up when he asked how it was. “Started with me having to run out of a meeting to vomit,” she began.

“Oh no,” he said, knowing full well how much she hated vomiting and how tired of it she was.

“Yep.” She cut into one of the roasted sweet potatoes, the question of how Harry learned to cook so well crossing her mind as she took a bite. “And then I got the call that the big deal I’ve been working on fell through—the company decided to go with another agency. I haven’t even presented our final plan yet—didn’t even have a chance to prove myself. I don’t even know how they made the choice, but to have done it without even seeing the final product sucks.”

Harry reached over and slipped his hand into her, giving it a tight squeeze. “’S not a reflection of your work, love.”

“I know,” she reassured him, “but it’s hard not to think it anyways.” She took a sip of her ice water, eyes falling to his red wine with longing. “But then one of the interns mentioned some trend on Instagram that I knew nothing about and it made me feel old. And then Jamie asked me if I wanted to get drinks after work and I had to make up an excuse and he looked so sad. So it was a shit day.”

The look on her face was so heartbreaking that Harry just wanted to squeeze it right out of her. So he took his hand and pressed his thumbs into her cheeks, squeezing them together, trying to make her giggle like she usually did when he did this. “You’re really, really fuckin’ cute, Y/N,” he told her and to his delight a blush fell over the tops of her cheeks. “And you’re also wicked brilliant. Anyone who thinks otherwise, or makes you feel like you’re not, is an idiot. And you are most definitely not old.” He turned his chair and pulled himself towards her so his knees were touching the side of her chair, allowing him to press a delicate kiss to the fabric covering her shoulder. “You hear me?”

She nodded, picking up her fork to resume her dinner. “Thank you, H.”

“For what?” He pushed a strand of her hair behind her shoulder so it didn’t get in her food when she took a bite.

“Picking me up,” she said, eyes meeting his. “You’re good at it.”

He pecks the tip of her nose, smiling when her face scrunches up at the action. “Easy to do when you’re so bloody wonderful.” With that, he scoots back to his place at the table, letting her eat in peace. He filled the conversation with jabber about his work for the day, his calls with his team and the interview he did for a radio station. When Y/N was like this, she wasn’t all that talkative, preferring instead to mull about in her head and process all of her thoughts, but when she was ready to chat she came out in full force.

That happened after dinner, when they were tucked up in her bed, both reading. Harry was working his way through a non-fiction book about World War II, doing Dunkirk having piqued an interest for him, and Y/N was reading a copy of the New Yorker that her dad had given her when she saw him last. Suddenly, she nudged his neck with her head, demanding his attention.

When he looked down at her, she was all doe-eyed and warm, her mind having finally gotten itself out of the spiral it was in. “Sorry I was in a mood,” she said. “Hormones are fucking with me.”

“S’okay, button,” he said, kissing her forehead gently. “Sorry I got you pregnant and got you hormonal in the first place.” He meant it as a joke, but Y/N stilled against him and he immediately knew that wasn’t how she heard it. “Joking, Y/N,” he told her. “I love that we’re havin’ a baby.”

She set down her magazine and propped herself up on her elbows, Harry dropping his book too so he could focus fully on her. “Are you sure, H? If you’re being serious, I understand, you know. You don’t have to pretend. I don’t want you to pretend just for my sake.”

Harry exhaled. “How many times do I have to tell you, baby? I’m so excited to be havin’ a family with you I can’t even contain it. Nearly blurted it out to Jeff today in excitement before I remembered what we agreed on.”

“You might need to tell me a couple more times,” she told him honestly. “For some reason, my brain is having trouble wrapping its head around the idea that you want to be doing this.”

“C’mere,” he said, opening his arms so she could fold into his body. “I’ll remind you whenever you need, okay? But please, Y/N, please believe the best in me. I love you, but sometimes the doubt you have in me breaks me.”

Her fingers crawl up his biceps, fingers trailing around the outline of the heart tattooed there. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” She pressed her chin into his chest, a soft smile bringing him to his knees for her. “I wanted to talk to you about something, and I’d like you to keep an open mind.”

Her fingers stopped tracing his tattoos and her eyebrows furrowed. “What is it?”

“I talked to Adam today,” he began. “I told him we were havin’ a baby.” Before she could berate him for breaking their promise, he forged on, because that wasn’t the part he wanted to talk to her about—he already knew she was frustrated with him for it. “I needed his advice on how to approach the 2018 tour. Whenever we talk to Jeff I need to have a plan before I walk into that room, and Adam’s my only friend who has kids and knows intimately how I tour.”

She considers his words before opening her mouth. “Was it helpful?”

“Mhm,” he murmured. “He had a couple suggestions, some which aren’t possible, some which are. The main one was that you join me for part of the tour. I know that you have work and you probably can’t do it, but I already have to cancel the entire US leg because it’s in June when little Peanut is due, so I probably can’t ask for other breaks. And I have no fucking idea what to do, Y/N.”

Y/N scrambled up, swinging a leg over Harry’s waist to brush the tears that were spilling from his eyes. His heart was beating so fast, the fear of what she would say eating him alive. “Hey, hey, I’m here, okay? We’re going to figure this out.” She was so calm, collected, the opposite from what he expected. “Can you breathe for me? I want to have this conversation, but I can’t do it if you’re crying, H.”

Harry gulped, trying to get his breathing under control. “I—yes. Okay.” He listened to her breathing, the sound of her heartbeat, letting it anchor him.

“Better?” He nodded, and she smoothed his hair back before speaking again. “So. Me going on tour with you?”

“Yeah. What do you think?”

She sighed, her fingers fiddling at the collar of his shirt. Without even thinking about it, Harry found himself curving his hands around her stomach, right where his baby was, the action having become an impulse in the recent days. “H, I can’t travel when I’m over 34 weeks pregnant.”

Harry let out a sharp exhale, the frustration evident in the way he hung his head. “Fuck.”

“Maybe…Maybe I could take off a few weeks at the beginning? I’ve got the vacation time saved up.”

His head perked up at her proposal, eyes wide. “Really?”

She nodded, hand coming up to grip the back of his neck, her fingers massaging into the base of his skull. “I want to make this work and if that means taking some time off so we can be together, that’s what it means.”

The prospect of her on tour with him, her and their baby on tour with him made his heart flutter, the images of her, wildly pregnant, hanging out in his dressing room before shows, watching from the wings while he performed. Her hands carding through his hair while he took naps backstage, them shagging in his hotel rooms, cuddling on airplanes and tour buses. “I like that idea,” he said, bending down so he could press a soft kiss to her abdomen. “Quite a lot.”

“I kind of like it too,” She murmured, giggling when Harry left a lingering smooch to her belly button. “I’m sorry, baby about having to cancel tour. Know that isn’t what you want to do.”

“Rather be here than anywhere else,” he said, nudging at her cheek with his nose. “Y/N, I want you to know, I would never have picked to tour right now if I would have known.”

“I know,” she murmured against his skin. They were cuddled up in each other, her arms around his neck, his face buried in her shoulder. Harry didn’t think the desire to be close to her like this would ever leave him. He just desperately loved being as close as possible, holding her, petting her skin, feeling her breath on his skin. “I know I put a lot of pressure on you and that’s not necessarily fair of me, but—“ “Hush,” Harry said, lifting his head so he could look at her. “You’re right to, okay? I want to be the best dad I can be, but you know how easily I get caught up in my work. Don’t want to do that. Just as I need to remind you how much I care, sometimes you may have to remind me that you’re my world. Can you keep doing that?”

She nodded, a soft press of her lips to his eyebrow that had him gripping her hips, the tenderness like fireworks in his brain. “What do you think Anne is going to say when we tell her?”

Harry chuckled, the panic in her voice evident. “She’s going to be so happy I bet she’ll cry. Been wantin’ a grandchild for ages now. What about your mom?”

“She’s going to have a conniption fit,” Y/N said with a laugh of her own. “But then she’s going to cry too.”

“No wonder we’re such softies,” Harry said, tickling at Y/N’s sides, the sound of her giggles in his ears making him smile.

She leaned back, squirming away from his hands. “Speak for yourself. I’m serious, not a softie.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry lifted his hands, smushing her cheeks together and peppering kisses all over her. “Say that again, baby. Dare you.”

“Fine!” She pulled his lips into a kiss that left him breathless, his desire for her never waving. “Love you, my big softie.”

“Love you too. Now let’s go to bed, gotta make sure Peanut gets his beauty sleep.”

Y/N rolled off of him and let him pull the duvet cover over their bodies, cuddling up next to him. “What about me?”

“Don’t need it,” he said with a swift kiss to her forehead. “Beautiful no matter how much sleep you get.”

He feel asleep with Y/N’s head on his chest, arm slung over his torso, and Harry wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. The girl he loved, a baby on the way, and a career he adored. He ran his fingers up her spine, watching the smile flutter onto her lips in her sleep, and let his eyes wander to her belly. You couldn’t tell that she was pregnant yet, but to Harry, knowing that she was carrying their child inside of her, she had never been more beautiful to him.

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NEXT CHAPTER COMING JULY 22ND @ NOON CST