#Cube Best Management | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sometimesanalice · 1 year

Text

Bedside Manner

Summary: You were expecting the perfect summer afternoon with the Daggers, but when a game of dogfight football takes a turn for the worse, you’re left with a bleeding head and an aching heart. And it’s up to Bradley to show you his bedside manner.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: A little angst, a little pining, and two idiots in love.

It’s a perfect summer afternoon. Well, almost.

The sun is high in the sky and the steady salt kissed ocean breeze keeps it from being too uncomfortably hot. The coolers are filled with beers and sodas and a few pink cans of rosé that Coyote had brought. And the beach blankets were littered with open half-eaten family sized bags of chips and cubes of bright pink watermelon and containers of various dips and ziplocs with sun warmed and mostly melted chocolate chip cookies.

“You guys, really, I’m fine,” you state as adamantly as you can given the circumstances.

Sure, you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your throbbing, bleeding head. Sure, you are a little afraid to put your full weight on your left ankle and already dreading the long walk back to your car.

But it’s fine, you’re fine. Everything is…peachy. Or it will be as soon as they all stop looking at you like you’re about to crumple to the ground like some 1920’s silent film starlet from on the silver screen.

Nat has that deep pinch between her sharp brown eyes. Jake’s lips are pressed together in a firm white line. The rest of the team stands hovering around you in a misshapen semicircle, all sandy and sweaty, and wearing the concern painted across their faces.

All except for Rooster, who can’t seem to look at you at all.

“Clearly, you’re not,” Phoenix says flatly, clearly unamused by your attempts to minimize the situation. And you wish that just this once she could have let this go and follow your lead. But then she wouldn’t be Natasha Trace.

Your best friend since middle school had always been the most capable and sharpest person in the room and you loved that about her.

Normally.

But not so much when her keen assessment of you keeps you from being able to slink away quietly without fuss.

“No, seriously. It’s just a little scratch. It’s not a big deal.” It sounds feeble even to your own ears. Trying to hold back a wince when the way you shake your head makes starbursts bloom behind your eyes.

You could have dealt with the pounding in your head if it weren’t for the relentless burning of your ankle that was only making things worse. One or the other would have been easier to manage, but both vying for your attention as the pain pulses with every heartbeat was miserable.

The sun was too hot, the kids frolicking the ocean were too loud, the sunscreen on your skin felt too greasy. All you wanted was a shower and your bed and to forget this whole day even happened.

You look around the group trying to gauge how successful your efforts are, but it’s clear that no one seems to be buying your brand of poorly performed bullshit. You wanted to crawl into yourself like a hermit crab, protected by your own shell, as six pairs of eyes all looked on at you sympathetically, while the pretty brown ones you wanted to see the most were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and trained down at the ground.

It was supposed to be a fun day.

You’d woken up that morning absolutely giddy about trading spreadsheets for sand and sunburns and sea salt tangled hair. Your cheery, new swimsuit already laid out and waiting for you from the night before.

There was something thrilling about hooky on a Friday with all of your favorite people that made you feel all kinds of young and free. Well, hooky for you. They’d been given the day off after a month of intensive training and testing of some new defensive software. They all deserved the break and you were more than happy to tag along.

You were always the good kid in school, never skipping, never missing a class. You’d felt like a rebellious teen as you crafted your ‘out of office’ email, a smug grin on your face like you were getting away with something. Even though you’d earned the right to use that PTO whichever way you wanted.

The anticipation of a snow day from your childhood school days had nothing on the intoxicating promise of a beach day on a golden summer Friday.

The team must have felt the same way too because the group chat the night before had been chaotically amusing. The excitement was palpable enough that you’d almost think you all lived in some landlocked state rather than San Diego, where it felt like all roads led to the beach whether you wanted them to or not.

Somewhere between the string of all capitalized sentences and exclamation points with a few well-chosen emojis scattered throughout, Natasha had managed to wrangle everyone in enough into sorting out who was responsible for bringing what. There wouldn’t be another veggie platter incident, not on her watch.

You’d felt bright and effervescent as you’d pulled into the parking lot, your eyes reflexively seeking out a blue Bronco that hadn’t arrived yet. With a beach chair over one shoulder and a beach bag over the other and a packed cooler bag in your hand, you’d made towards the multicolored sprawl of blankets and the striped peaks of the umbrellas, where you were met with the smiling faces of shiny happy people.

Some of the boys had rushed over to help you carry your things and added your offerings to the communal pile of snacks and sunscreen and bottles of water. It had been easy to fall into conversation with everyone as you set up your own little patch of paradise and shimmied out of your frayed cut-offs. Natasha had given you a wolf whistle and you’d laughed as you give her the finger.

And hour and a half later with an easy grin on his face, carrying a case of beer and two big Ziploc bags stuffed with what you learned later were homemade cookies balanced on top, was Rooster.

You’ve had plenty of beach days with them but every time you saw him in those damn denim shorts he always seemed determined to wear, regardless of how impractical they were, your mind still went a little fizzy as you took in just how well they clung to his thighs.

He’d taken the ribbing from his squad in stride as he unboxed the beers and added them to the collection already chilling in Bob’s bright yellow cooler. You were trying- and failing- to read your worn paperback book when he’d surprised you by plopping his things next to yours on your oversized towel and stole a chunk of juicy watermelon off of the plate balanced on your lap.

“Hey, book worm,” he grinned as he popped it into his mouth, “How’s my favorite girl doing?” That smile of his getting bigger when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Hi, Rooster,” you’d said looking at him from over the top of your sunglasses with an amused smirk.

And if your cheeks felt warm, it was from the sun and not the teasing tone of his raspy voice.

When he’d shrugged off his shirt to apply the sunscreen you’d brought with him in mind, the wink he’d shot you went straight to your head like champagne. The sun highlighting his impressive abs and sculpted shoulders didn’t help either as he took great efforts to cover his chest and stomach with the lotion. He had to be doing it on purpose, because he’d kept rubbing it in well past when the white hue faded. But who were you to complain? Melanoma was no joke.

“You wanna help me out?” he’d asked turning his back to you, looking over his shoulder. You’re pretty sure that he’d been flexing because he’d looked impossibly broad, every defined muscle standing out for eyes to map out and explore.

You’d been at war with yourself, because while your eager hands were desperate to touch him, you also knew that once you ran your hands along his solid frame that you’d never want to stop. That you wouldn’t be content until your fingertips had traced every inch of him.

You had been blessedly and devastatingly spared the choice.

“I got you, Rooster. My hands are already all sunscreen-y,” chimed in Bob, who had just finished rubbing his own freshly applied layer. “Wouldn’t want it to get on her book.”

You were only half relieved to be off the hook, while Bradley on the other hand was still looking at you expectantly, almost hopefully, still with the white and yellow bottle of sunscreen partly extended towards you.

“That’s so sweet of you, Bob-” you’d started.

“Yeah, so sweet-” Bradley grumbled under his breath.

“I appreciate you sparing my pages the sunscreen grease,” you’d said shooting Bob a smile, choosing to ignore Bradley’s comment completely. “Plus, your hands are bigger than mine. You’ll have him covered in no time.”

Bradley looked between you and Bob before he passed the bottle to the other man, shaking his head a little in defeat. You’d giggled to yourself as you wiggled your book at an openly brooding Bradley, and then leaned back on your elbows to observe the way the attentive WSO made sure to carefully and thoroughly cover Bradley’s entire back.

Respectfully, of course.

Behind your sunglasses you’d admired all of Bradley’s bulk compared to Bob’s lithe grace. But in your defense, they were standing right in front of you and you’d already reread your book at least five times in the past, so it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the scene in front of you had been.

“You look awfully comfortable over there,” Rooster called out with a raised eyebrow.

“Just taking in the view,” you’d teased back.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” he huffed as Bob finished up, giving him a thanks, man before tossing you back the bottle of sunscreen. He’d nudged his sunglasses down his nose and pinned you with his gaze, “Let me know if you want me to get your back. My hands are just as capable as his.” Even in the high heat of summer, the way he’d looked at you sent chills running along your arms.

You felt the way his keen eyes traveled from your face, down the deep-v of your swimsuit and along the swells of your breasts, and down your legs to your freshly painted toes. His mouth had ticked up in the corner then left you reeling and your heart pounding away in your chest as he’d strut off to go join Fanboy and Coyote by the mountain of snacks.

And that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. You never knew if he was just flirt-y or flirt-ing.

You hadn’t had a crush in ages, but when Nat had introduced you to her team five months ago, the man with the sunkissed curls and surprisingly attractive mustache had immediately caught your eye.

And as you’d gotten to know him, it had only gotten worse.

Not only was he very nice to look at and could make you laugh until your sides ached, but he also he had depth about him in a way that most men your age didn’t. You liked talking to him and listening to his stories. You liked learning his perspective on things. You liked being around him.

He made you feel interesting and special and funny and seen. You’ve never felt as comfortable in your own skin as you did when you were around him.

Rooster would send you flirty winks, give you less than subtle once overs, and could flash you such devastating slow grins that they’d have you trying to catch the butterflies they released in your stomach for hours after you went home.

But he’s never made a move.

If only he wouldn’t play hide and seek with his true intentions.

You felt like you were still waiting on some small clue whether he was serious or not. You didn’t know if he was just having fun with you or if he was into you and it was more than just friendly banter. It would be so much easier if he’d straight up tell you one way or another.

Needless to say, you’d let Nat be the one to help you with your sunscreen a little bit later. The idea of Bradley’s big hands on you, gliding along your sun-warmed skin and under the crisscross straps of your swimsuit, was too much for your hummingbird heart.

The sun climbed higher into the sky as the butter yellow midmorning transformed into a Midas-touched golden afternoon.

The squad had been able to reserve a fire pit and the plan had been to stay until the sunset. An endless summer day stretching out before them like a cat. They had nothing but time.

Clusters of people came together and split apart like a kaleidoscope as some went to take a dip in the ocean or raid the cooler and snack spread or go for a walk along the shore. Changing and shifting with the direction of the wind, going where the mood took them.

And for a peaceful moment, it had been you with your book and a napping Bradley sprawled out next to you on your towel with his arm flung over his eyes. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, almost but not quite touching. The sound of his soft breaths and the waves their own kind of lullaby as you contentedly read your book, turning your pages quietly to not disturb the man next to you, as the droplets of the Pacific dried on your skin.

You still don’t know how you got roped into playing a round of dogfight football with the Navy’s best and brightest. You were more of a corn hole or ladder toss kind of girl, but Coyote had all but thrown you over his shoulder and dragged you out before you’d agreed to participate, conceding your defeat.

You were on a team with Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy against Nat, Rooster, Payback, and Bob. A few plays in and you had been getting the hang of it. They’d all been making sure to take care to go easy on you even in the chaos of two teams playing offensively and defensively at the same time. You were more than a little out of breath, but you were having fun.

Before the next snap, Mickey gave the most impassioned pep talk you’d ever heard, “Fuck luck, we don’t need luck. We gotta fucking win.” You had been about to laugh, but then you’d seen the looks on Jake and Javy’s faces and decided against it. Curious about the other team, you’d glanced over only to see Rooster looking back at you.

The calls had been made, the blur of plays in motion as people whirled and dodged and sprinted.

You’d just lobbed the ball to Javy before darting around Nat when a big, solid body collided with you. Hard. You’d felt the twinge of your ankle twisting in the sand right before the force sent you flying in the opposite direction you’d been headed.

The impact had been jarring. The air knocked from your lungs.

Where you should have been met with a mouthful of gritty sand, instead your head had connected with the rough surface of a partially buried rock. The low, thick thud reverberating throughout your whole body.

You’d been so stunned that you didn’t even register you were even on the ground until you heard the chorus of oh fucks and holy shits and goddamns and jesus christs over the ringing in your ears.

The game coming to an immediate and conclusive end.

For how many empty bottles and cans were sitting collected in a trash bag off to the side of your beach set up, they had been surprisingly quick to act as you blinked blankly, trying to clear the spots from your vision.

It was a silent ballet of efficiency as they instinctively fell into their roles, much like you imagined they did the sky. Everyone stepping up and then stepping back as they did their part, like the ebb and flow of waves.

Nat had carefully poured some fresh water from a bottle on your face to remove the sand that clung to the sweat and sunscreen on your skin. Then Jake had wordlessly passed her his clean spare shirt he’d jogged of to get to help stop the bleeding after Javy checked on your pupils to make sure they were the same size. While Bob stood off to the side holding your warped sunglasses in his hands, as if he was hopeful they could still be salvaged. Mickey and Reuben had been waiting in the wings giving you space, ready to help if they were needed, but not wanting to not crowd in.

And from the corner of your eye, you’d caught Rooster standing a couple feet away with his hands in his hair looking absolutely wrecked.

“Bradley?” you’d tried, even though his name stuck to your teeth. But he’d just shook his head at you before turning away slightly, like he couldn’t look at you, which made your heart sting as well.

They only allowed you to move to sit up after they were content with the answer to their questions- What day is it? Friday. Where are you? San Diego. What else hurts? My ankle and my pride.

It wasn’t until someone hauled you up from underneath your armpits that the throbbing and stinging and aching settled over you. The pain seeping and spreading through muscle and bone like an inky oil spill.

It’s still an almost perfect summer afternoon except for the fact you hate everything about this.

You hate the way they’re gathered around you with too many pairs of assessing eyes pinned on you. You hate that you’re the reason the game of dogfight football came to a definitive and abrupt end. You hate that you’re the reason their carefree and fun afternoon off has turned into this.

There’s a pressure building behind your eyes, the hot tears of hurt and frustration and embarrassment are clamoring to be released. You have to bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

And it doesn’t help that you’re the type who’d rather lick your wounds in peace.

You just need to get back to your car and you can figure things out on your own from there. You just need a moment to yourself.

As you open your mouth to argue your case again, Jake puts his hand up and stops you before you’ve even had a chance to start, “I hate to break it to you, sugar, but you’re not fooling any of us.” He says it gently, but gives you a pointed look at the way you’re leaning heavily on your right leg to keep the pressure off of your left ankle.

“That head wound is not a little scratch. Just like your ankle isn’t just a little puffy, when it’s twice the size it should be. You need to go to the Emergency Room,” Nat says, final and resolute. A lifetime of friendship has taught you not to argue when she has that look in her eyes, the one that says try me, I dare you.

They all talk over you as they figure out who is the most sober of the group after your suggestion to call yourself an Uber is immediately shot down. Drinks are being counted on fingers, and memories are searched to make sure every sip and bottle and can is accounted for.

Your eyes drift over to the man who is still actively avoiding looking at you, even as he talks to everyone else on the team. You aren’t paying too close attention to what he is saying, but you can hear the short, clipped staccato of his words.

Bradley’s shoulders are tinged a little pink even though you know for a fact that you had purposely passed him the 65 SPF. His eyes are hidden behind his dark green tinted sunglasses, but you don’t need to see them when you can read his body language better than any book.

His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, the tendons in his forearms flexing and shifting, like he is squeezing and releasing his fists from where they’re tucked under his biceps. Everything in his body looks coiled tight and strained, so at odds with the easy going and loose-limbed man you know him to be.

You don’t realize just how much you’ve zoned out until Natasha has to say your name a couple time before you pull your gaze away from Bradley and back to her.

“Ok, it’s settled,” Nat informs you, “Rooster’s going to take you.” You barely nod your head in acknowledgement when she tells you, because it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach now too.

“It’s the least he can do,” Jake drawls.

“That’s not fair-” you start, defensively.

“Fuck off, Bagman-” Rooster snaps.

The rage in his voice shocks you, you’ve never heard that much heat from him before. There’s none of the teasing tone that usually underscores their banter. Jake puts both of his hands up placatingly like my bad, folks and Javy just shakes his head and sighs.

And this time when you look at Bradley, he is finally looking back at you with a deep furrow in his brow. His jaw is clenched tight, that muscle ticking and jumping, as he takes in the way you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your forehead.

Not exactly the way you’d hoped he’d be looking at you when you put on your new blue and white striped swimsuit this morning.

The one you’d bought because you wanted to make him look.

Just not like this.

With everything sorted the rest of the team trickles away a smattering of take cares and get better soons and let us know if you need anythings. But not before Mickey hands Rooster his stuff and passes Nat your bag and sandals. He gives you the gentlest of squeezes on your shoulder before he leaves to join everyone else back on little part of the beach you all had claimed before things went to shit.

Your group of eight now downsized to a trio.

Bradley is quick to roughly pull on his tank and shirt, and Nat fishes out your car keys from your bag as she waits for him to slip his shoes on. When he’s ready she passes it to him and he silently slides it over his arm.

Nat bends down to help gingerly glide your feet into your sandals, “I’ll grab the rest your things and drop them off at your place and then one of the boys will drop off your car later. We’ve got it all covered, ok?”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say quietly, trying to hold back a wince as she slips the left one on, your ankle pulsing in tempo with your heartbeat.

“Best friends don’t say thank you, they just do,” she says matter-of-factly as she stands. It’s the same thing you’d told her after you’d dumped a carton of strawberry milk on Carly Radke for outing Natasha your freshman year in high school. It was only time you’d ever gotten detention, but it had been worth it.

“They just do,” you repeat with a small smile.

You’re so grateful that your friendship with her is one that has spanned years. That you’ve been able seen one another grow and change and come into their own, but that you haven’t outgrown each other. She’s the person you want by your side and having your back. There is no one quite like Natasha Trace.

She turns to Bradley and you watch him stand a little taller under her sharp eyes, your straw tote still dangling from his forearm.

“You good?” Nat asks him with a look in her eye that you can’t place. And you’re reminded that even though she’s your best friend, that he has also earned a spot as one of her closest friends. Their relationship built over years and experiences that you could never fully understand. Different, but just as deep.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her. I’ll take care of her,” Rooster promises with a stiff nod, as he gives her his word. It might have made your heart beat a little faster if you didn’t feel like such a burden. That it’s simply a twist of fate and three less drinks than everyone else for the reason that he’s the one to look after you. That he’s the one stuck with you.

“I know you will,” she says softer now, patting his shoulder, “Keep me posted.” Nat presses a kiss to your cheek and gives you an encouraging smile then heads off to go rejoin everyone else.

You watch her go with longing. The cheerful beach set up with its colorful blankets and umbrellas looks more like a desert mirage now. The sweet coconut scented potential of what the day could have been now forever out of reach.

And then it’s just you and Bradley and the sound of the waves and cries of seagulls.

The two of you silent and motionless.

You feel one wrong move and the fragile attempt of the stiff upper lip you’ve cocooned yourself in will crack open and all the soft parts of you will seep out into the sand beneath your feet.

His expression is shuttered closed as he bends a bit like he is going to pick you up.

“Woah, buddy, what are you doing?” You’re squinting into the sun as you look at him. You’d step into his shadow to block it, since you’re now in need of a new pair of sunglasses, but that would mean moving to the left which isn’t an option with your ankle.

“Buddy,” he grunts under his breath, slipping off his sunglasses and carefully putting them on your face, being mindful of stinging scrapes and wad of soft cotton you’re holding to your head. “They’re definitely going to have to run concussion protocol on you,” he mutters more to himself than to you, “I’m taking you to the Bronco and then we’re going the ER, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, Rooster,” you grit out, even rolling your eyes hurts, “But I don’t need you to carry me.”

Everything about this was excruciating and embarrassing enough without him being the Clark Gable to your Vivian Leigh. Maybe you could lean on him and hop over to his car? Like a six-foot-one pair of crutches with good hair.

“Take a step without wincing and I’ll think about it,” he says firmly, pointedly calling your bluff. There’s an expectant look of go on then, whenever you’re ready on his face. Because he knows he’s right, and you do too.

You don’t even bother to make a move, but the way your lower lips wobbles speaks volumes.

“That’s what I thought,” he says quietly, almost like pains him to be right.

He bends a little to hook his arms around your knees and back to lift you up, and this time you let him. Your free arm automatically wrapping around the back of his neck. And he starts off towards the winking windshields of the parking lot.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to be wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, how good it would feel to be pressed closed against him. And now you are and it’s nothing like you’ve imagined, because there isn’t anything sweet or swoon-worthy about how you ended up in them. You’re his duty, you’re not his desire.

All your sandcastle hopes have been washed away by the tide.

You’re so frustrated. You’re frustrated by the day, by yourself, by him.

This time you can’t blink back the tears that well up in your eyes. They flood through your tear ducts carving hot trails down your sun-tinged cheeks.

You want the Bradley from earlier.

The one who stole your watermelon with warmth in his eyes.

The one who dozed next to you in the sun like a cat, his features soft free of the tension he now holds in his shoulders.

You want your Bradley.

The one who’d whispered cheeky comments in your ear whenever the team got into lighthearted tequila fueled arguments about things like whether a hot dog was a sandwich.

The one who’d always go up to the bar with you on busy nights at the Hard Deck and make sure you didn’t get bumped into on the way back to your friends with your freshly refilled drinks.

You’re aching, aching. Everywhere.

For a brief moment, as you swipe at your tears, you’re happy for the throbbing in your head and ankle, so that way you don’t have to think about the stinging in your heart.

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting,” Rooster says gentle and low as you sniffle, but you can hear the thickness of the words in his throat. The term of endearment is the sweetest of nothings, making your tears come faster. Where it should ease the heartache, all it does is make you angry at yourself for giving your emotions away. “We’re almost to the Bronco. It’s ok, we’re gonna get you taken care of, I promise.”

We.

You wanted that with him.

You want to press both of your hands to his cheeks to make him look you in the eyes to ask him is it going to be you and me together? You’ve been a fool for love before, but you didn’t know if could take another hit-and-run with your heart.

The salt of your tears makes your cheeks feel tight and itchy as the summer breeze dries them on your skin.

Bradley carries you like you weigh nothing, but cradles you like you’re the most precious things he’s ever held. He’s mindful of any dips in the sand and gives wide berth around the college kids playing volleyball close to the entry back to the parking lot.

When he reaches the Bronco, he sets you down gently, making sure both of your feet are planted on the asphalt before letting go of you to unlock his car. He tells you to wait a moment when you move to open the passenger side door.

“I never know when I might get called up for an emergency deployment, so I like to have some extra clothes just in case,” he explains as he digs around in the backseat, pulling out a pair of gray athletic shorts.

“Oh.” And you realize you’re still just clad in your striped swimsuit. “Thank you for sparing me from the hospital germs,” you say lightly, an attempt at a joke to break the ice. One that doesn’t land, since instead of cracking a grin he just presses his lips together in a firm line and nods.

Bradley crouches low in front of you and you put a hand on his shoulder for balance as you lean against the Bronco, still trying to keep as much pressure off your left ankle as possible as you step into them. He’s looking up at you and even through his sunglasses perched on your nose, you swear his brown eyes get a shade darker as he eases the shorts up your legs. You’re touched by the effort as he ties the strings in a lopsided bow, even if things are feeling tense between the two of you.

“Think this’ll be easier,” he mumbles shrugging off his light blue button up. You’ve always liked this one, with its soft pastel pink and minty green watercolor prints of net fishermen and hula girls and palm trees.

He holds it open for you, helping you thread your arm through it, and then takes over holding Jake’s now ruined shirt to your head so that you can get your other arm past the sleeve. It smells like him, citrus and amber. Your fingers brush against each other when you reclaim the makeshift bandage, and he adjusts his shirt so that it hangs over your shoulders just right.

It’s an awkward kind silent as Rooster helps lift you into the Bronco with his strong hands around your hips. He is all smooth efficiency as he buckles you in with a click. You pass him back his sunglasses the same moment he hands you your tote bag, and it almost feels like a hostage exchange.

He says nothing as he hauls himself into the driver’s side. The car rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition and a cheery song from the 80’s station on the radio comes on. Bradley quick to turn the volume down low. His thumb brushing your shoulder as he sets his hand on the back of your seat to look behind him as he carefully backs out of the spot.

It’s never felt this strained with him before.

It’s so painfully obvious that the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. You can almost feel the wall that’s gone up around him. The white noise of the radio drowned out by the hum of the road as he drives in near silence.

Your day has been most effectively ruined by a chunk of sedimentary rock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still recoup what’s left of it.

He could still have the perfect summer afternoon.

He could still go back to your friends and their perfect beach set up and laugh with them as Coyote keeps accidentally setting marshmallows on fire. He could still catch the bold oranges and soft pinks of the sunset with all the satisfied contentment he deserved to experience.

“You can leave me and go back, you know. I’ll be ok if you just want drop me off and then head back to the beach,” you say looking down at your fingers as you trace the stitching of his leather seats.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you glance over at him. The vein in his neck is standing out boldly against the column of his throat.

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who would leave someone at the ER alone?” he asks, his voice rougher than sandpaper.

“No. No, of course not,” you say emphatically, “That’s why I’m giving you permission.”

“Permission?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

“Yes, permission,” you say, clipped.

You’re giving him an out, why doesn’t he get that?

He heaves a big sigh and grunts. “Is it… Would you rather have Bob- with his big hands- here instead?” Bradley asks, frustration leaking out around the edges of his words.

“Bob with his big hands?” you repeat baffled, “What does Bob have to do with anything about this?”

“That’s what you said earlier, sweetheart. I’m just citing the source. Or I can call Phoenix? Or…” he pauses glancing at the t-shirt pressed to your head, “Or even Seresin. Once we get you checked in I can call any of them an Uber or something, and they can be there with you, if you don’t want me.”

“No, Rooster, I don’t want anyone else.” You wince at the implication and hope it doesn’t read into it further than the current situation to two of you are wading through like quick sand.

“Ok, good,” he grumbles.

“Great,” you lob back.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white, “Then where is this even coming from?” The action makes his thick forearm flex in this most delicious of ways that you’d appreciate more if you didn’t feel the anger simmering low in your stomach.

“It’s pretty damn clear that you’d rather be back there, Rooster. Or literally anywhere else right now.” You flip down the sun visor with more force than it deserves, regretting that you gave him his sunglasses back when the bright California sun in your eyes turns your headache into a full-blown migraine.

“Of course, I’d rather be anywhere else!” he says hotly, tossing his sunglasses back in your lap, “Do you think I like that you’re hurt and that we’re on our way to the hospital?” You shove them on your face with an angry huff.

A car speeds by blaring their horn as they pass by.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” he grunts but speed of the Bronco doesn’t change, “Asshole.”

Bradley’s driving five miles under the posted limit, and you know for a fact he religiously drives at least ten miles over. And his turns have been smoother than butter, as if he is trying not to jostle you anymore than you’d already been today.

You are so tired of this hot and cold thing that he’s doing. His words and his deeds weren’t going hand in hand. He keeps giving you the cold shoulder, but is also so in tune with your every movement and need.

Gingerly, you angle yourself in your seat to look at him better, resting your tired left arm on the back of your seat and taking in his strong profile.

“Why are you being like this?” you demand, waving your free hand in a vaguely in his general direction.

“Like what? I’m not being like anything,” he retorts, making the same vague hand gesture as you did a moment earlier.

And oh, if that doesn’t fill your chest with hot indignation. That low simmering anger has turned into a full roiling boil as you shift in your seat trying to get your ankle in a position where it doesn’t hurt.

“Seriously, Rooster? I can feel tension rolling off of you in waves. You’ve been like this since everything turned to complete shit on the beach. I didn’t mean to ruin your day, I’m just trying to figure out how to make things better,” you bite out unable to keep things bottled up anymore.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Are you kidding me right now? You think you ruined my day?” He glances from the road to you and back again, his brown eyes wide and searching.

“Yes?” Or so you’d thought until you’d seen the shock written all over his face, but now you weren’t so sure. It’s like you’ve dumped ice water on him instead of simply calling him out. “I feel like you’re taking it out on me and I don’t know why.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rooster swears under his breath, shaking his head. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart. I’m mad at myself, because I ruined your day. I should have been more careful, I should have been looking out for you. It’s not like you’re hard to miss in that swimsuit.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment, but you choose to ignore it.

Misery drips from his words like spilled ink off a page. You knew he was upset, but you didn’t realize he was upset about that. That he’s shouldering this fluke of fate as if it is his burden to bear. Some of the anger you’ve been feeling leaves your body like the tide washing out back out to sea. You’re still upset at him for how he has been acting up until this point, but you’re not mad at him about that.

“Bradley, no. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, an accident I’m responsible for,” he says hoarsely, rubbing roughly at his forehead. “God, I can still hear the sound it made when you hit that rock and it makes me feel sick. I would give anything to undo that moment. I need you to know that.”

He is being so hard on himself and your heart squeezes, this time in sympathy rather than hurt. He didn’t place that rock in the sand, the both of you were victims of circumstance.

“It could have happened to anyone. It could have been anyone,” you press delicately, trying to get him to hear you, shifting in your seat again still uncomfortable.

The sunshine bounces off of his slumped shoulders as he sighs raggedly.

“But it happened to you and it’s my fault. You’re bleeding, you’re in pain, and you’ve been crying. And it’s because of me.” He reaches down with his right hand and lifts up your leg so that you can rest it on his thigh, some of the ache alleviating immediately. He asks quietly, “That better?”

“Yes, thank you,” you murmur. He looks so upset, and all you want to do is curl into his lap. You want to hold him and you want to be held by him. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

You expect him to move his hand back to the steering wheel, but he keeps it on your leg. His thumb stroking your still slightly sandy shin. Your cheery toenail polish at odds with the color blooming around your ankle.

Bradley’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, “Yeah, I do. I know that. But I still blame myself.”

The Bronco rolls to a soft stop at the light. There’s enough traffic that you know you’ll be here for a bit, and so does he since he turns in his seat to look fully at you. You take his sunglasses off, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt that rests above your heart, so nothing stands between his brown eyes and yours.

“So, you’re going to keep beating yourself up over it and icing me out? Making me feel worse? For what, Bradley? Because you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s not fair to me or to you.”

“Shit,” he mutters, his left hand running through his curls. “You’re right and I’m so sorry. I’ve been in my head feeling so damn guilty that I’ve been such an asshole. Can you forgive me?”

You’re about to answer him that when a horn startles you, making you jump in the leather seat. You see the light is green, the car that had been in front of you is gliding through the intersection passing under a blue sign pointing the way to the hospital.

“Bradley, the light.”

The car behind the two of you honks their horn again.

“They can wait. This is important, you are important. Do you forgive me?” There’s an underscore of need that punctuates his question.

“Yes, of course,” you say easily and sincerely. There’s so much remorse in his eyes, you would have forgiven him with that look alone.

“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief. And then he smiles at you for the first time since the beach and that ache in your heart is completely soothed, bandaged by that soft way he is looking at you.

Atlas no longer, he can simply be Bradley.

He takes his foot off the brake and by some miracle he’s able to make it through the light before it turns red again. You can see the tall structure of the parking lot near the hospital poking out above the line of the treetops.

The destination is closer than ever, but there are still things on your mind.

“And you aren’t an asshole, Bradley. But your bedside manner could definitely use some work,” you tease with a smile of your own.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to show you my bedside manner, but you keep holding me at arm’s length,” he groans dramatically.

The idea of experiencing Bradley Bradshaw’s bedside manner makes you feel all kinds of weak in the knees, even as you’re seated in his Bronco with your leg propped up in his lap, his big hand skating up and down along your shin comfortingly.

“How can you even say that with a straight face? You’ve never made a move!” you exclaim incredulously, “I was even the one to ask for your phone number, if you remember.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I hit on you all the time,” he argues with your favorite brand of Bradshaw banter, “I’ve been waiting for you to give me the green light, sweetheart.”

“I thought you were supposed to be pretty and smart,” you smirk.

He barks a laugh and the last tendrils of all the tension and all the pressure that had been swirling around you like a marine layer evaporates.

“You saying I’ve had the green light this whole time?” He looks over at you with a boyish smile, you like the way you feel when he looks at you like this.

“What I’m saying, Bradley, is if you’d have actually asked me out I would have said yes.” You press your toes into the muscle of his thick thigh and immediately regret it, wincing as pain ripples around your ankle.

He makes a sympathetic sound deep in his chest, “Sounds like I’ve been an idiot.”

“A very pretty one,” you allow, leaning your aching head back against the back seat.

“At least there’s that,” he concedes good-naturedly as he pulls into the parking lot, turning on his blinker for a spot opening up near the entrance to the Emergency Room by some twist of fate, one that’s in your favor this time.

Bradley pulls into the empty spot and kills the engine turning to you. He gently eases your foot back down onto the sandy floormat of the Bronco and leans into unbuckle your seatbelt.

He’s so close now looking up at you from under his eyelashes, and your breath catches in your throat. He moves closer, you can see the bits of hazel that surround his pupils. Your eyes flutter close and you tilt your head up, lips parting at the anticipation of his kiss.

There’s no holding back the noise of dissatisfaction you make when his lips press a tender kiss to your cheek. You lean into him wanting to feel, wanting him to give you more. His warm breath coasts over your skin as he chuckles. You can feel the way his lips are pulled up into a smile.

“I’m a gentleman, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls away, his eyes lingering on your lips. “My mom raised me not to go for the kiss on the first date. Or ones with head wounds and potential concussions.”

“Some first date,” you lament jokingly, looking in at the fluorescent lights awaiting you inside the hospital. You’d rather skip over this part entirely, but you’re ready to be done with holding Jake’s shirt to your head. “Nothing like insurance cards and scrubs to really set the mood.”

“Mmm. How about this, after we’re done here, I’ll take you through whatever drive-thru you want-”

“In-N-Out,” you cut in without a second thought. The novelty of it still hasn’t worn off on you, even if the fries are terrible.

“Ok,” he grins, “I’ll take you through in In-N-Out and get you your number two combo with mustard and grilled onions with a vanilla shake.” He pauses waiting for your nod of approval, looking more than pleased with himself when you acknowledge he got your order right.

“I like the sound of this so far,” you hum.

“Well that’s good. Since it’ll be our first date, I want to set that bar high,” he says giving you a wink. And there are those butterflies again, this time you don’t try to catch them with a net. They’re free to flutter around as they wish.

“If you really want to impress me, you’ll also take me through the McDonald’s drive-thru for their fries,” you muse.

“Done.”

“I was kidding,” you laugh, shaking your head at him disbelievingly and thoroughly charmed.

“Well, I wasn’t. So after we get you fed, give or take some fries, I will bring you home. I’ll get you whatever you need, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. Think you might be on crutches for a bit, sweetheart,” he says softly, playing with the ends of your hair. “And then in the morning, if you’re up for it, I’ll take you out for breakfast. Or bring you breakfast. Whatever you want. We can call that date number two.”

“And then you’ll kiss me?”

“And then I’ll kiss you,” he promises, offering you a crooked pinky finger. You beam and you wrap your own around his.

He slips out of the driver’s seat leaving you to contemplate the terms of his offer as he rounds the front of the Bronco. The nurses are going to get an eyeful of him in only those snug jean shorts and thin white tank. You make a mental note to avoid looking at him if they have to connect you to a heart rate monitor, he doesn’t need to know the effect he has on you. Not yet anyways.

“I have counteroffer,” you announce turning your body towards him as he opens your door for you.

“Let’s hear it, baby,” he says with a grin that almost makes you forget how bad your head and ankle hurt, “Shoot.”

“We still go to In-N-Out, but then in the morning you make me breakfast in bed with some of those famous Bradshaw pancakes I’ve heard about,” you say, as he steps in between your legs, “Seems like a good way to work on that bedside manner of yours.”

“I think you’re going to like my bedside manner, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

You tilt your head at him, taking in the sunkissed strands in his hair and the affection in his eyes, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Guess we will,” he rasps.

Rooster drops another sweet kiss to your cheek, whispering for you to stay put, and then he struts off towards the automatic doors of the Emergency Room. Leaving you alone with the butterflies in your stomach and the hope in your heart.

You dig your phone out of your straw tote and check the time, doing the math in your head.

There are a few messages from Nat and other people on the team already checking in, but you know you’ll have time to reply to them later as you wait with Bradley sitting by your side.

You look up and see he’s got a wheelchair now and is making his way back to you, wearing a soft smile on his face just for you.

Only seventeen more hours until you get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw and you can’t wait.

You’ve got that forever feeling about him.

Oh, oh, oh.

Thank you for reading! Rock on. Oh that joke was schist, I'll see myself out.

This was written as part of @roosterforme's Rocktober Playlist! You can check out all the other great submissions here!

The song that inspired this story was Paula Abdul's "Straight Up"

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

4K notes · View notes

mirohlayo · 28 days

Text

SUCH A SIMP

( The monegasque driver has no problem showing himself to be particularly affectionate with you )

warning : fluff, charles spamming you with messages (but it's cute)

note : race week again bby

word count : 2.2k

Oh. It's funny how the monegasque who seems so confident turns into a real man unable to breathe properly when he's away from you.

A young woman who has only just taken her first steps in the incredible world of F1. You were able to apply for the red team, the italian Ferrari team. A great and majestic racing team whose name demands respect and recognition, especially for Italians. And you had just joined these motorsport gods in F1.

Finally, you are not in charge of the most difficult and relentless job either. You were recruited as a new social media manager, certainly with a lot of tasks to carry out, but undoubtedly a little less important than those of the racing engineers and strategists. However, the media is a source of content that fans of the sport love and your ultimate goal is to create the best videos and content possible for Ferrari.

So little by little, you appeared in the Ferrari motorhome. Your colleagues were starting to remember your face and your name, and after a good three weeks on the job, a lot of things had radically changed.

Firstly, you had integrated well into the Italian team. Good relationships and understandings with your colleagues. And secondly, and not least, a new form... of friendship - if we could describe it that way - was formed between you and the famous Monegasque Ferrari driver. Charles Leclerc.

The young man found himself curious about you, interested in this young new woman of his age who, despite the difficulty of the work, completed the tasks required in no time, a fairly perfectionist quality. It must be said that we can clearly see that she really likes this job. And this had intrigued Charles, who often found himself looking for the young brunette.

With the support of his teammate Carlos, who pushed him to take the plunge to try to approach you, Charles ended up introducing himself to you - as if you didn't already know him in this environment. He approached with a shy, almost nervous smile, while he could not hide his completely admiring, almost affectionate look. He struggled to form his sentences, far too dazzled by your sublime beauty and presence.

You seemed quite shy and reserved at first, and that was the case in everyday life. But that's what made you so charming, and Charles felt his heart beat harder and harder every time he managed to make you smile or laugh, a blush that appeared on your face and that he loved more and more.

You blink suddenly, as you start walking with your shoulders straight again in the paddock. You were so lost in your thoughts, remembering how this friendship between you and the driver had blossomed, that you hadn't noticed that the Ferrari motorhome was right in front of you.

The automatic doors open as you enter the small cube, shyly greeting the employees and your colleagues. “Hey, Y/n.” Carlos smiles at you kindly, happy to see you there. You hadn't set foot in the paddock for 2 weeks already, the team had offered you the opportunity to work remotely. You jumped at the opportunity, the chance to spend some time with your family during the week.

“How were your two weeks away from us? I bet you missed us” He winks at you, knowing deep down that a part of you was eager to get back to work there. "It was great. I got to enjoy a little bit with my family." You smile sincerely, remembering the activities you shared with your parents. “But it’s true that I missed working within the stable itself. And then, I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

Carlos' smirk is evident, his arms crossed over his chest as he smiles more and more. You raise your eyebrows slightly, intrigued by his reaction. "Is something wrong? Did I say something funny?" Finally, he chuckles weakly as he shakes his head. “I’m just thinking about how a certain man here was also very, very excited to see you again” He purses his lips, narrowing his eyes, leaning down to your ear so he can speak in a low voice.

“And although I really like you Y/n, that man isn’t me. Besides, I’m sure he’s currently complaining about how much he misses you.” He stands up straight and gives you another wink, followed by another smirk. You feel your cheeks heat up, blush violently. You try to look away, embarrassed.

You know very well who Carlos wants to talk about. You wanted to deny it, to tell yourself that it wasn't true and that it was only your conscience playing with you, but after Carlos' words, all these questions seem true. "Come on, go. You must have a lot of work, just like me. See you later, Y/n!" Carlos pats your shoulder as he walks further behind you.

You don't know how long you stood there in the middle of the motorhome floor, but long enough for you to think about what just happened. Carlos is always honest, and when he saw you in the presence of Charles, he did not hesitate to make some embarrassing remarks to you, like that the monegasque looked at you with hearts in his eyes or that he particularly liked to seek physical contact with you.

These remarks made you blush and Charles always seemed to become embarrassed, more shy than before as he begged Carlos to leave you alone. Because the Monegasque driver knows that his teammate is aware that he has a weakness for you. More than a weakling, he's literally a simp for you. But he really doesn't want you to know.

Or rather, he would like to but he's afraid of rushing you or of you not feeling the same way. After all, three weeks might be too early for you, but for Charles it was enough to make him completely lovesick for you.

You finally come to your senses, and after checking that your face is no longer completely red, you sit comfortably on the chair in your office. You finally got to work, responding to the last email you missed. A notification vibrated your phone, and glancing at the screen, you saw Charles' name.

You really wanted to continue working seriously, you had promised yourself to get back to work but the notification and the message from Charles were running through your head. So, despite yourself, you grab your phone and open your messages to click on the driver's message. Your gaze softens as you read it, your heart racing.

Charles Lec

I heard you finally arrived to the circuit. can't wait to see you again, miss you y/n :(

see you at the 11 o'clock meeting

The message makes you blush again, more lightly this time. But just with a simple message, Charles knows how to make your heart beat and put you in all your moods. He is charming, funny, and caring. Of course you had to fall in love with him. And Carlos' words said earlier secretly gave you hope. Hope for something deeper.

You were about to respond, but your eyes drifted to the messages he had sent you earlier in the month, specifically during your two weeks of remote working. And reading the messages, that's where Carlos' words took on their full meaning.

Charles Lec

07/06

i just learned that you are remote working, that's why I didn't find you at the paddock

i'm sad that you're not here but you also need to rest during these two weeks :(

miss u a lot

09/06

hello you ;) hope everything goes well.

i don't know if you saw the qualifying but I'm starting the race p11

the race will start soon, I hope you can still watch it

can't wait to see you again, gorgeous

still miss u

12/06

it's not race week but I would have liked to spend these few days with you but you work and you must surely enjoy your family

eat well and don't stay up too late, pretty girl

have a good day :))

14/06

i miss u y/n

i feel like it's been forever since I last saw you

I have already planned a few little things to do when you come back, call me back when you can :)

15/06

hello youu

In 1 week I'll see you again but I can't wait any longer

i think I'm gonna die if I don't talk to you right now

can i call u please? :(

16/06

i did a little workout today and I will continue next week

we see each other again in less than a week and all I can think about is that

take care sweetheart

miss you a lot lately :(

not just lately, miss u always, every single minute of the day

Everything seems to fit together like a puzzle. So Carlos was telling the truth, the man who is so eager to see you again is definitely Charles. Come to think of it, he texted you almost every day. To tell you how much he missed you and that he wanted to see you again, not forgetting to add a few pet names here and there.

This kind of revelation changes everything. Your feelings, the way you think and behave. You were still surprised at the idea that Charles could potentially love you the same way you love him. But there is no doubt about it, after everything that has just happened in a few minutes. And you didn't know if you were looking forward to going to the meeting or not.

But there you are, in front of the door to the small interview room. And as you enter, a little late, almost everyone is there. You can feel several eyes on you, but one is undeniable. Charles is there, sitting, his gaze completely glued to you, totally absorbed and attracted by you alone. He follows you with his eyes, completely in love, while your angelic beauty completely takes his breath away. Oh, he missed your face so much.

You move towards your chair, painfully avoiding meeting his burning gaze. But after all, it's impossible. Why would you want to avoid him, when he certainly feels the same way as you.

So, calmly, you sit down, you take your pen between your fingers, and taking a deep breath, you end up laying your eyes on him. You meet his gaze and there, time seems to stop for a moment. His eyes burn into your face, and your breath catches. But a shy smile, which ends up widening, takes its place on the driver's face. And, shyly, you smile back.

And during this meeting, you couldn't help but glance at each other a few times. And in Charles' head, everything was panicking. He wanted to hold you in his arms and never let go. He wanted to spend every next minute by your side, making you smile and laugh until you lost control. He wanted to stay for hours admiring you, listening to you speak with your sweet voice. He was finally able to live and breathe properly.

The meeting ends, you take a strangely long time to put away the few things you had brought with you. And Charles strangely seems to take care to say goodbye to each of the people who leave the room. So that in the end, you find yourself alone in the room. No one speaks, your gaze each focused on the corners of the room. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Charles finally approached you.

So close, that he ends up wrapping his arms around your waist, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. You practically melt in his embrace, as you return the favor, your hands gently caressing his back. “I missed you so, so much.” His voice is muffled. You giggle weakly, and just that little laugh melts Charles' heart.

"Carlos informed me that a certain person here was very eager to see me again, hmm?". Your shy nature wasn't the type to tease people, but seeing Charles like this made him absolutely adorable and you couldn't help but tease him a little. He groans, because he knows that as soon as he meets Carlos again, he will make him understand that he, on the contrary, will never look forward to seeing him again. But for now, he's just enjoying the moment.

"If it's to be able to stay in your arms like this, then yes I assume that this person is me. And now that you are here, you are certainly not going to leave me." And in an overconfidence, he pulls back just enough to place a soft, long kiss on your cheek, while his hands gently squeeze your hips. The sudden touch makes you jump slightly, and your face doesn't fail to show your embarrassment as it turns a pretty pink.

Which absolutely makes Charles laugh, totally captivated by you. But he absolutely didn't expect you to kiss him back, on his cheek already crimson from the contact of your lips on his skin. The room is suddenly filled with giggles, while the two secret lovers, or rather the two idiots in love who see their relationship blossom into something more beautiful, remain there for a while longer, in each other's arms.

And Carlos, who wanted to make his way into the room to collect his Ferrari cap, had observed everything from the doorway. A huge grin on his face, he finally rolled his eyes, amused. “Such a simp.” He whispers these words, which, without a doubt, perfectly reflect reality. Because yes, Charles is just a simp for you.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

930 notes · View notes

milf-harrington · 11 months

Text

i read a fic yesterday (return of the king) where Steve swapped with Eddie at the last second at the end of s4 and ended up being the one who died and had to be left behind and then he came back as a vampire and it just got my brain TICKING.

So role-reversal AU where steve is the one who comes back basically kas-ified as is the common trope with eddie, but where eddie goes to steve, steve goes to robin.

lets say, for funsies, that they managed to kill vecna and max only ended up hospitalised for a broken elbow and a twisted ankle (from falling on it), so everyone has the time and space to grieve.

Steve’s death hits Robin the hardest because he was her person. He was her i-wish-we-could-just-merge-into-one-being. Her ride or die. Her soulmate. And he’d been taken from her, torn apart and left to rot in the very world he’d tried so hard to protect her from.

The others give her space to let her mourn quietly in her bedroom, dressed in steve’s clothes and listening to his music like if she just tried hard enough she could still merge them together and let him use her lungs to breathe, her heart to pump his blood, her head to share his thoughts. that she could single handedly go from a me to a we.

And then, one day, Robin starts acting weird. She doesn’t know the Wheeler’s phone number and on her way to find it in the phone book, she found the Munson’s first, and when Eddie picks up it’s too a very chipper Robin asking for a lift to the shops where she proceeds to buy an alarming amount of red meat and refuses to answer any questions.

And she’s just- happy. She’s weird and happy and keeps calling Eddie to ask him about Dungeons and Dragons lore and if he can take her to the library or to the butcher and if he can let her borrow his jumper please? I get cold easily. And then she just keeps stealing clothes, from everyone. Sometimes she asks, sometimes she’ll just take a jacket off of the back of a chair and act like nothing happened, sometimes she just sneaks off to go rooting through washing baskets.

Then comes the day she invites Eddie over, probably a week or so after her initial journey into Weird-Ville, nervously rambling about nothing right up until she closes the front door behind them and runs into Eddie’s back because Eddie’s just spotted Steve-fucking-Harrington peering at him from around the corner.

Apparently, a not-exactly-dead-anymore Steve crawled through Robin’s window one night and has since taken up residence underneath her bed.

“He was kinda- not all there, at first.” She tells him, chopping a steak into cubes and dropping them into a blender. Steve, winged and fanged and tailed, leans against the counter and watches her with sleepy eyes. “But we’ve been working on it.”

After the initial pants-shitting shock of having her dead best friend re-appear as a creature of the upside down, Robin had simply accepted it and moved on. Happy to have Steve back no matter what it looked like.

And what it looked like was blending raw meat, and reading together in the bathroom to bring back his ability to talk, and stealing clothes for the veritable nest Steve was building in her closet. The next step in her plan to re-domesticate her best friend, had been to introduce him to another person: Eddie, evidently.

Steve promptly spends 5 minutes being a feral little creature, scenting Eddie within an inch of his life like he’d done to Robin, and then attempting to plant him in his nest like a little ornament.

Just. idk. feral kas!steve seeking out robin for safety, who slowly re-introduces him to his humanity and then his future boyfriend.

#stobin #platonic soulmates #also a bit of #steddie #as a treat (for me)#monster steve harrington #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #this has been plaguing me all day #fic ideas

2K notes · View notes

otkuhotgirl · 2 months

Text

─── 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒 .

# with black leg sanji.

returning earlier from the crew’s usual strolling through the newest island, you’re startled to witness sanji viciously lapping his tongue at a stolen tangerine. pitying his position, you allow him to have a taste of the real thing.

⎰ & afab!reader. smut (mdni!). oral. slightly sub!sanji. he eats you out like he’s starving. no y/n used.

W.C: 3K

when you decided to announce an early retreat to the sunny, much too dizzy to withstand the island’s scalding heat and deciding the most suitable course of action would be to seclude yourself within the cooler walls of the ship, the last thing you had expected was to find sanji in such a compromising position.

minutes previous to that encounter, you were quite frustrated. the shore town was a beating heart of commerce and people, filled with opportunities to find useful acquisitions to oneself. you were looking forward to a shopping-filled afternoon; to observe nami’s wits in action — her bargaining that was nothing but diplomatic theft — and listen to chopper’s ramblings about the books he managed to find. of course, the midday sun and its ruthless warmth had ruined it all, meaning that a day of privacy with sanji was the second best thing.

he had been the one assigned to watch the ship while the rest of the crew explored the town. considering the high temperature and his never-ending will to be of use, you had no doubt that the cook could be found in the kitchen, slicing up fruits to prepare delicious cocktails. hence why you followed the scent of tangerines, growing slightly puzzled. he was one brave man — or a suicidal one, you could not quite decide — for picking up nami’s tangerines when she was not around.

you should have knocked, truly. it was a mistake not to have done so. but you hadn’t cared much for courtesies whatsoever, eager for a refreshing beverage and perhaps the chance to share a pleasant conversation with the cook.

upon entering the kitchen, you were expecting to be met with ice and diced fruit, yes, but not under those circumstances.

half a tangerine was placed on the counter, as well as a glass cup with a singular and melting cube of ice. sanji busied himself with the other half of the fruit, swirling his tongue around the middle, his chin dripping with its juice, which caused you to clench around nothing; your legs forcing together as you observed the scene without a word.

after hearing the opened door, sanji froze in place, moving his head to catch a glimpse of the intruder as though he was experiencing the most terrifying seconds of his life. his shoulders slumped with a temporary sense of relief as he noticed your figure, before his entire frame threatened to burst up in flames out of embarrassment.

you cleared your throat, forcing a rough snicker in an attempt to lighten the shared atmosphere. then, finding yourself a seat, you grabbed the tangerine with one hand, placing the other on your chin. “having fun?”

although not aflame, sanji was as red as that one clown-pirate’s nose, averting eye contact as he placed the tangerine on the sink and searched for a cigarette. it became clearer that he had no courage to meet your eyes, stressing over the consequences of that endeavor. your glance, however, was tethered to the positioning of his fingers above his half of the tangerine, noticing polished and short nails, the well maintained hands, for a cook of his caliber could not indulge in carelessness.

the saliva sent to your dried throat was a fuel to a forest fire, rather than a soothing rain to a desert. your treacherous mind flashed sinful scenarios of those fingers. your juices of pleasure tainting them, warmth enveloping its skin as he curled them close to your sweetest spot before shoving his fingers into his mouth, loyal to his personal code of never wasting any food—

“pearl of my life,” he began at last, sounding a bit hesitant, yet calmer. “i can explain.”

sanji’s voice grew rougher due to the cigarette between his lips. inhaled nicotine that traveled past his vocal chords to settle on his lungs before he expelled them through his nostrils. you found yourself at a loss for words, wondering how one could differentiate the intonation of desire from the consequential coarseness of smoking. was there even a difference? oh, how desperately you wished to find out.

the cook seemed to have misinterpreted your silence, all of the sudden growing anxious, searching for a lighter despite not having finished his first cigarette just yet. luckily, for the both of you, the oven filled in the gaps with a repetitive beep, informing that the dish he had prepared was set to be served.

the scent of one of your most favored desserts danced around the talons of smoke from sanji’s unfinished cigarette. he smashed the tip of it against the ashtray, and hid his hands from your luscious eyes with the kitchen gloves. sanji had to bend to remove the sweet treat from the oven, offering you a clear sight of his butt and the powerful muscles of his thighs, strained against the fabric of his pants. as if hypnotized, you observed, with a certain hunger — for both the dish and the cook — as he then moved towards the counter.

sanji, at last, faced you. “a bargain, mon sirène.”

you raised an eyebrow with an expression of pure confusion, having your next words swallowed by hushed explanations as sanji’s composure crumbled, no longer bearing the weight of your silence. he knelt and encapsulated your hand with his, assuming a pleading tone.

“i thought i’d have a tad more time for myself, you see. at first, i was merely preparing you something sweet, planning to welcome you back with the luxury you deserved, but then my thoughts trailed entirely to you—”

sanji cleared his throat, the gears of his mind turning as he searched for a better explanation. “we’re discovering more of the new world, and oh, my golden star of the open seas, not a thing will ever be able to diminish your brightness and influence over my beating heart—”

“sanji,” you voiced softly.

“but, you see, what if a lady ever so happens to reciprocate my passion and desires? how could i live up to what she deserves? by training, of course—”

“sanji.”

“and oh, well, i meant to prepare tangerine cocktails to ignore those thoughts. but the fruit does resemble a woman’s intimacy—”

“sanji.”

“or so i heard. from zeff. i never had the honor of verifying it myself—”

“sanji!” you interrupted his ramblings, caging his face with your hands, not at all surprised by the high temperature of his skin.

the cook was a passionate man, with a heart that had been dipped in molten gold; filled with nothing but love and the urge to please. but you hadn’t fallen prey to fantasies of his embrace due to bashful flirting, well-pondered gifts and delicious dishes. though those were of aid, sanji, while clueless, managed to become the center of your affection because of his endless kindness, the infinite will to help those in need, those alluring and prestative eyes that never failed to brighten up in your presence.

processing his previous words, and the reasoning behind the decision to train his tongue with a fruit, you felt as though a sharp blade toyed with the fragile skin of your heart. the mere thought of witnessing his care delivered to someone else — a stranger at that — was both vexing and painful. for a second, under the burning and expectation-filled glance of his, you struggled to maintain your thoughts linear. what was needed for him to keep his attention focused on you, and you alone? the answer came with such easiness that you felt a bit ashamed.

sanji squeezed your hand, as if to tether your mind to the instance at hand. with a clear of your throat, you offered him a sympathetic glance.

“i’m not zoro,” you told him, aiming for a reassuring tone. “embarrassing you for the sake of having the last word isn’t something i’m interested in. if you want me to keep this interaction a secret, i will. no bargaining needed.”

he observed you as if the moon was kept in a pendant wrapped around your neck. for a second, your very name escaped from your mind.

“i have always known that you were as kind and merciful as a heaven sent angel. i’ll make sure to return the favor.”

oh! you were surprised that he caught on your desires. sanji was observant, but you were obstinate to a fault and thought that your behavior had been one of composure. well! at least you wouldn’t have to take the first step. he’d be the one to slide down the material of your shorts and panties and guide your hand to his blonde hair and—

sanji got up and moved towards the dessert, scanning the kitchen for the scarce fine cutlery in order to serve the sweet with a noble-worthy decoration. you shoved the revolt that surged due to the distance, mouth agape in both embarrassment and bewilderment. without a second thought or an ounce of patience, you gathered up the courage to act.

“you know, sanji,” you hummed. his sudden straightened posture made you feel a bit wicked, for he behaved as though a deer caught in the woods at the intonation shift of your voice. “if you wanted to practice, you could’ve asked me.”

the cherries he was carefully piling up on the plate crumbled like a house of cards. his nervousness was palpable. sanji turned his head towards your figure, face adorned with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“mockery isn’t a kind act, my seastar,” he said, voice strained. “but i would have forgiven you for committing even the most violent crimes.”

you blinked, straightening your posture. a bit disheartened, for he seemed unable to believe that you were capable of nurturing a genuine desire for him.

“sanji, i mean it. it would be my pleasure,” literally.

sanji shifted his entire body, facing you with certain hesitation. his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as his glance trailed to your lips; then to your breasts; then glued to your crossed legs. his pupils dilated.

with careful steps, as if fearing that a sudden move would tear him from what he believed to be a dream, sanji approached you. the cook breathed in, trembling with nitid nervousness and excitement.

“how do we—should i kneel? i don’t—”

somehow, both his innocence and lack of experience managed to soothe your own nerves. although sanji seemed a wreck, your confidence grew as you tapped a finger on the dining table.

“would you mind if i sat on it?”

he flushed immediately. “what?”

sanji then noticed his error, clearing his throat and gripping a fistful of his hair with an apologetic expression, almost as if expecting a reprimand.

you merely smiled instead. “i can sit on your ‘it’ later, but you should learn the basics first.”

he nodded with fervor, observing with certain desperation as you sat on the edge of the dining table, parting your legs with ease; beckoning him closer.

sanji remained glued in place as though a statue, stunned to a fault. “would you get on your knees for me?”

his reaction was immediate, and the sound of his bones meeting the wooden surface of the ground made you wince for his sake. if the impact caused him pain, sanji didn’t express it. instead, he crawled closer, his breath fanning above your thighs.

“don’t feel forced to do it,” he stuttered at last, offering you the chance to halt.

“this is the part where you remove my shorts,” you instructed instead, and his fingers eagerly worked to unbutton the piece of clothing.

with a raise of your hips, you aided him in the task at hand, watching sanji drool at the sight of your drenched panties. it was endearing, but the lack of contact was maddening.

“you’re allowed to touch me.”

“where?”

“everywhere.”

he placed a careful hand on your thigh. with a groan, your fingers encouraged him to squeeze the tender flesh, and so he did. sanji approached your clothed cunt, his hot breath fanning above the sensible spot. you shivered in anticipation, gripping the blonde locks of his hair with non-thought strength.

before you managed to apologize for the harshness, sanji moaned, latching his mouth to your core. his tongue lapped at it as though a beast, carrying nothing but desperation, with no regards for the piece of cloth that separated you both. you let out a yelp of surprise, breathing heavily at the contact.

“sanji,” you whined, pressing his nose to your folds. “the p-panties.”

he understood it well enough, moving his face afar, nimble fingers tugging on the straps. you raised your hips to help him, and watched as sanji sniffed the material before shoving it inside his back pocket.

sanji trailed his eyes to your cunt. a broken whimper tore through his throat. “where is it?”

“what?”

he flushed, pressing one of his fingers at your slick entrance. you shuddered, and his face inched closer, a temptative kiss pressed to your middle. sanji’s visible eye caught on whatever he seemed to be searching, and his tongue followed-in-suit. he circled the muscle around your clit, slowly, as if testing out the waters.

you tugged on his hair. “faster. use your fingers as well.”

he hummed, sending a wave of vibrations through your core. an involuntary noise escaped your lips once sanji inserted two of his fingers inside. removing your hand from the one he had above your thigh, you gripped his wrist, correcting the angle.

“it’ll hurt less for you,” you explained, and sanji hadn’t even answered, too lost on your pussy to pay your words any mind. he was reacting to your instructions due to mere instinct.

sanji’s lips closed around your bud, sucking on it before he used his tongue to lap at your folds, moving it up and down. you arched your back, controlling the speed of his wrist until sanji caught on it himself, dominating the field.

as he moved his jaw, you felt the roughness of his goatee caressing your warm flesh. “scissor it.”

he obliged, alternating his movements. sanji removed his fingers until the nails, only to insert them again with your desired speed. he curled them inside, exploring your intimacy with his touch while he busied his mouth with your clit and folds.

the hand once placed on his wrist returned to the counter’s edge. you gripped it without much thought, eyes trailed to sanji’s face in between your legs. he interlocked his free fingers with yours, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your palm — aching due to your previous grip —, coating your hand with saliva as well. your juices dripped down his chin and glistened on his nose.

“don’t hurt yourself, bien-aimée,” sanji whispered, tears of glee pooling in his pleasure-wide eyes. “hurt me instead.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the protest melted into a broken moan as sanji spat on your cunt, replacing the fingers inside with his tongue. he whimpered at the taste; his thumb drew circles around your clit, while the longer fingers busied themselves with your folds.

your legs trembled, and your fingers tightened on his hair. sanji’s mewl of pleasure lost itself within your cunt, his thumb pressing harder on your clit as he plunged his tongue deeper, angling his head as if he was trying to devour you.

“l-left,” you told him through a broken moan, seeing stars when his tongue managed to reach a particularly sweet spot.

you felt the built pressure that indicated the nearing of release. sanji parted his face from your cunt for the briefest of moments. softly, as if handling a luxurious and delicate piece of golden cluttery, sanji grabbed a fistful of your thighs with both of his hands, dragging your body closer. your back met the wooden surface of the dining table, and before you managed to ground yourself, sanji had guided your fingers back to his scalp, allowing you to force his face into your pussy.

two fingers stretched you as he bit on your clit, soothing it with his tongue afterwards. you arched your back against the table, toes curling with pleasure.

“so good,” sanji moaned with desperation, his voice mingling with the wet sound of his fingers working on your cunt.

you felt him hump against nothing, nose teasing your folds, and kicked his sides meekly, searching for his dick. sanji caressed your ankle before guiding it to rest on his shoulder.

“ma belle,” he mumbled, kissing your leg, dragging your essence through your skin. “don’t worry about me.”

he fastened his pace, sucking on your inner thigh as his fingers led you to the heavens. you saw stars. your eyes rolled and your mouth parted to give way to a scream, yet your voice failed. somewhere amidst that cloud of pleasure, you caught the sight of his figure towering over your own, one hand grabbing your breast as he pressed his lips against yours. sanji’s tongue invaded your mouth and the taste of your essence, combined with the movement of his fingers, led you to the edge.

your climax came accompanied by a broken moan, diligently muffled by sanji. again, he knelt, removing his fingers lick at your leaking hole, swallowing as much of your cum as he could. you squirmed due to the overstimulation, tugging on his hair to force his face away from your cunt.

“too much,” you whispered, observing the ceiling while coming off from your high.

sanji’s clean fingers caressed your cheek, and he supported your weight once you gathered the will to sit. he pressed loving kisses to your neck, mumbling compliments against the skin. your eyes landed on his softening cock, the wet patch indicating that he came undone.

you tugged at the waistband of his pants, beckoning him closer. your fingers toyed with the zipper, and sanji shivered, his hand trembling where it laid above your hip.

“there’s no need to repay me, mrs. princess,” sanji voice out softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “it was enough a pleasure to get to touch you, and your dessert—”

“i want it,” you interrupted, grinning with newfound confidence. “and besides, it’s your turn to teach me, isn’t it?”

sanji had to resort to a tangerine before tasting the real thing. luckily for the bananas, you managed to dodge the same fate.

— 🐈‍⬛ : this was actually supposed to be about teaching him how to kiss. and then i had ten tangerines for dinner and thought “waiiiiit it does look like a pussy” and boom, 3k words. i ended it with humor because i need to be funny at all times, otherwise i die. it’s a medical condition!

#one piece x you #one piece #op #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece smut #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #sanji #op sanji #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #sanji smut #sanji imagine

508 notes · View notes

aajjks · 6 months

Text

Darkest Hour: Prisioner (m)

synopsis. Who was really the prisoner? Him who was behind bars? Or you? Who couldn’t even escape him, even now

pairing: yan!prisoner!jk x fem!gf reader.

warnings: YÂNDÈRÈ MÄTÜRÊ, DÄRK, öbsëssïön, STÖCKHÖLM SYNDRÖMÈ, ünhëälthy öbsëssïön, pôsessïvènèss, côntrôl, gúïlt trïppïng.

note. FEEDBACK IS NEEDED! ENJOY.

I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR IRL, THIS DOES NOT REPRESENT JUNGKOOK OR BTS IRL. DO NOT ROMANTACISE THIS BEHAVIOUR.

[GIF NOT MINE, IT BELONG TO OWNER, CREDITS TO THEM]

Your heart aches looking at him, his backis facing you as he is sitting on the old dirty bed, was he blankly staring at the walls? The walls that were the same thick grey stone as the dwellings of the region,

But instead of a wide window with a flower box there was a mean barred opening with thick metal bars and no glass. The weight on your chest was heavy. As your gaze travelled further, you felt suffocated.

The prison cell was a hollow cube of concrete, one way in, no windows. In there you could have no idea how much time had passed or even if it was night or day. It was totally disorientating by design. Given enough time a person could forget their own name in there. The isolation was total and the stimulation was zero. No sound, no light, no furniture or cloth of any kind. It was all an inmate could do to feel the cool walls, but even they were smooth.

pity, regret, guilt, frustration. The emotions embraced you like a second skin. In the time period of six months, this was your third visit. But this visit felt heavy.

This time... you had come here with a purpose. This time... without the overwhelming urge to see him.

This time with the urge to end this madness for once and all.

It was like this was written in the stars above to occur. your heart felt like someone had put thousands of bricks onto it. You were feeling guilty for what you were about to do.

This was just the weight of the guilt for your next step that would change yours and his life forever..

Maybe for the worst. This needed to be done nonetheless, you needed to overcome this incessant throb in your heart, you wanted it to stop, it wouldn’t.

But you needed to Do this for once, and all you need to end this.

And you will even though it’s not going to end so smoothly.

You knew it wouldn’t. You weren’t hoping for it. Because, after all. You were the reason why he was here in the first place.

You were reason behind your lovers imprisonment. “J-Jungkook. It’s Y/N..” your fingers wrap themselves around the metal bars, the voice from your throat barely managed to escape.

But he heard it.

The culprit turned around to look at you, and your heart skipped a beat, clenching tightly inside your chest. “Y-Y/N! M-My Princess!”

With teary eyes, you watched your lover as he jumped out of the bed and with shaking steps he came closer to the metal bars as much as he could. His long slender fingers wrapped around the bars tightly, you could only see his face barely. But the tattoos on his fingers made you recognize him. The ink on his knuckles being his only signature that could help you identify him in the dark hour.

“Y-Y/N! You’re finally here!” Hearing his voice in a tone so vulnerable made your heart break, you could tell that he was trying to hold back a sob. Jungkook tried his best to at least be able to hold your hands in his but was unable to because of the steel cuffs that held them captive, and the wall of the bars between him and you.

“Y-Yes Jungkook..” you finally look up to see him and your heart almost exploded in surprise. “Jungkook?! You’re cuffed?” To say you were surprised would sum it up. Your eyes widened to see that.

Only silence was your answer in return. Your heart was turning inside of your rib cage. You knew what this meant really well. Gripping on the rusty bars, you looked at him with your eyebrows farrowed and jaw clenched. “Y-You tried to escape,” horror took over you.

jungkook lowered his head, the darkness covering his face. You could only see his dark curly locks. “I-I just m-missed you.” Jungkooks shoulders were shaking, his voice breaking, tears falling. “Look at me jungkook...”

The crying man lifted his head up to look at you with glossy eyes and a red nose. “I-I love you Y/N.... I cant bear to live without you a-anymore. This squared box is starting to feel so suffocating... I want to be with you again Y/N... I can’t live without you..”

His words tugged at your heartstrings. The weight on your heart felt even heavier. He loved you so damn much and you were being so selfish. He killed him for you.

You were the reason.

“Y/N... there’s not a day where I do not shiver from the thoughts of you forgetting about me... or finding someone else. I cry day and night, only in your name... you’re my everything, baby.” Jungkooks gaze was holding so many unsaid emotions in them. His eyes were swimming in longing.

“I-I can’t bear to lose you.” Jungkook confessed, his voice was breaking constantly, coming closer to the bars, he cried. “I love you so damn much, princess. I can do anything to be with you.” The way he was speaking these words was starting to get passionate.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Jungkook cooed at you, while you cried softly. “No Y/N.. my sweetheart, don’t cry please..”

Seeing you like this broke Jungkooks heart into a million pieces. He wanted to see you happy always,

But with him only.

The way his heart was thumping inside of his chest made it very clear that jungkook’s plan was working. “I-I love you too Jungkook..” the way you called out his name made his eyes almost roll back to head in pleasure. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you, princess.” Jungkook had to be careful with the each word that escaped his mouth, his effect on you couldn’t falter.

He wouldn’t let it..

Waiting for your response was even more frustrating than when he was caught the day for murdering that cop, the handcuffs were the only witness for his crime, in front of you.

“Y-Yes jungkook I will... I’ll always wait for you. I love you.”

Oh... how happy just was he feeling... jungkook wanted to jump upside down. He still had you wrapped around his fingers. “My princess! Fuck I love you so fucking much... no one can love you as much as me.. didn’t I prove that to you?” His tone had transitioned from dark, gloomy to excited like a child getting his favorite food.

“My dad will get me out soon- baby just wait for me will you? I only stayed here just so I could redeem myself- my father has contacted our family’s lawyer.”

The psychotic man chuckled like a maniac. You just gave him a smile, of course- he’s connected. They practically own this country.

“Fuck,” he cursed, licking his bottom lip.

“baby I love you more than anything in this world... and you know it.” Jungkook presses his face against the bars.

You smiled at him again in way that he felt for a moment that he was at the gates of the heaven. Even he actually deserved to burn in the deep, agonizing flames of hell.

“I’ll be out soon Y/N, I promise. Wait for me...”

And you know that he will.

954 notes · View notes

whirlybirbs · 24 days

Text

— BURNER CELL ; 2 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: after a week of silence, you finally text dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 1.3k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, cancer mention, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this stole all my concentration. siri play emo boy by ayesha erotica ← previous | the tag

It's the kind of week where, aside from class, human interaction isn't really on life's setlist.

It's also the kind of week where you rediscover making a meal of raw cookie dough straight from the package. Your econ textbook might have a stranglehold on you, but you make enough time to scarf down a few globs between chapters — after all, who needs protein or fiber when you're sure this five-year master's program will kill you first?

Your head hurts.

You slump against the counter, refilling your water bottle.

It's late now — and you can feel the quiet woes beginning to wane as you blink at the clock. By now, your friends are probably on their second or third drinks. You turned the invite down when they asked yesterday. Nuri tugged on your sweater sleeve and pouted the best pout she could manage, but you didn't budge.

I've gotta finish this paper, I'm sorry, Nur'.

You roll your jaw as you shut the faucet off, wandering to your freezer to wrangle some cubes from the tray. You bend it slowly, deep in thought. A few pop out, and you idly drop them into your water bottle with a twang.

You're staring at your phone. It's by your computer on the counter.

...You never did text Dabi.

You told yourself it was for the best — after all, you weren't looking for a catastrophic derailment of your life at the moment. Things are good. You're two semesters away from finishing University, your family's bakery back in Kyoto is doing well, and Dad's chemotherapy seems to be working. Things are good! It's almost fall, you've managed to stick to your monthly budget, and Mizu settled in happily to your new apartment.

No four-day poop strike like the last time you moved.

The large tuxedo cat in question ambles through the kitchen — brushing against your leg and letting out a long, low mrrooow.

Things are great!

You shouldn't text Dabi.

But... even if you did, it's not like it'd be the end of the world, right?

Wait, could he figure out where you lived from your number...?

You could use one of those anonymous texting services. Then, it wouldn't even be your number. Just some fake string of digits that allow you to satiate the bizarre curiosity that's been swirling in your head for the last week.

You're sure the novelty will wear off.

He's probably not even going to respond.

You're telling yourself this is stupid as you begin to set up an account with the service — the app boasts privacy, andunlimited calls and texts... You can't help but feel a little strange as you finalize your account.

It's done.

You import his contact with two taps and stare at the blank screen.

...Now what?

Are you really going to do this? I mean — he's a wanted criminal. He's a member of the League of Villains. If anyone ever found out you were in contact with him, you'd be toast. You'd have All Might kicking your door in and demanding to look through your phone and that mental image is enough to make you cringe. Say goodbye to your degree, goodbye toyour future as Sakura Flour's owner, and goodbye to freedom. You're sure the Safety Commission would place you on some watch list for the rest of your life, and frankly, your tweets are already questionable. You don't need more scrutiny.

...So, there are two options.

Delete his number and move on... or don't get caught.

You shouldn't text Dabi.

...But, you do.

Truth be told, he isn't shocked to see that cute Nuri girl hanging on Giran's arm again. The Broker seems pretty into her — the guy even mentioned something about taking her to a nice dinner during the week as a congrats on passing some big test. Dabi can't blame him. She's cute. Looks good in red. Not his type, but he can appreciate it from time to time.

However, Dabi is a little shocked that you're not a part of the group cheering in Giran's VIP section. There's bottle service being ordered, laughter, dancing, and a gaggle of pretty, five college girls — and none of them are you.

His lips twist into a scowl.

He decides he's leaving; his piss-poor drink is tossed back, and he dumps a bill down for the bartender before tugging his hood up and sucking his teeth.

He never liked this club anyway.

He's crossing the threshold of the back door, stepping into the damp and dark alley, when the phone in his back pocket buzzes. Someone's smoking a Marlboro by the dumpster. The familiar smell makes Dabi's fingers twitch.

He's tryna quit.

He tugs the phone from his pocket, no longer bothered by the splintered glass screen. His battery is at 13%. This fuckin' thing barely holds a charge anymore.

The number on the screen isn't one he knows.

Dabi's passcode is unnecessarily long. His phone clicks open as he narrows his eyes and shambles towards the opening in the alley. He doesn't know this number. He has everyone's cell memorized that he needs. Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Jin, Compress, even Giran. He doesn't keep contacts. Doesn't work when he's ditching phones all the time. He's got his noggin. That's good enough.

The text is one word:

hi.

Dabi's squinting at the text when another buzzes through.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:48pm sorry, this is bar girl

→ dabi ; 11:46pm thought u were never gonna txt me ur girlie nuri is here where r u

There's no way.

Your phone buzzes three times from its far place where it sits face down on the counter — you just walked away from it, hellbent on distracting yourself while you waited out the potential reply. You go rigid in your kitchen.

Did he seriously text you back immediately?

You purse your lips, then slink towards the phone. It buzzes again.

→ dabi ; 11:47pm c'mon don't leave me hangin pretty

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the string of replies. He has read receipts turned on like the psychopath he is.

You lean back against the counter, chewing your cuticle as you let out a ragged sigh. Nuri is with him? Or... No, they said they were going to that club you hate.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:4pam oh, are they at the bar?‎

Dabi's fingers move fast.

→ dabi ; 11:49pm nah in downtown club tropical or whatever the fuck it's called

You snort a little.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:49pm i hate that place. their drinks suck.

Dabi has started making his way back to their hideout — back to the shit box apartments they're renting above Kurogiri's bar. He's slow, idly texting as he weaves through the crowds of nightlife in Kamino Ward.

→ dabi ; 11:50pm a girl after my own heart where r u ur dodging my question u on a date or smthng????

He's insistent, you'll give him that. You cross your legs as you lean back against the laminate counter and chew the inside of your lip.

He's typing. It starts, then stops, then starts again.

When you start typing, the bubble disappears.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:50pm nah, got a huge paper to finish uni student, remember? sorry to disappoint

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ur missin out giran got bottle service him and nuri looked cozy

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:51pm not shocked she thinks she can fix him

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ooooo love when that happens poor girl

Typing...

→ dabi ; 11:51pm u think u can fix me? :p

The emoji makes your face break into a smile — it's so... not what you expected.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:52pm nah i'm not stupid

→ dabi ; 11:52pm just busy.... really lame of u tbh coulda been fun

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:52pm wasting cash on mid drinks is the opposite of fun

→ dabi ; 11:52pm i meant seeing me

Oh, what the fuck.

Why does that text make your face feel hot? Why does that text make you feel like you're not texting the League of Villain's #1 Arsonist, but some cute boy from class? He's not a cute boy from class. He's a danger to society.

You're glad you don't have the opportunity to reply. Your phone is buzzing in your hands, the haptic feedback lighting the neurons in your brain on fire.

→ dabi ; 11:53pm gtg phone is gonna die have fun with ur paper u loser hope u get a good grade or whatever i'll txt u later

You shouldn't have texted Dabi.

But you did.

#burner cell #mha dabi #bnha x reader #bnha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagine #touya x reader #touya x y/n #dabi x y/n #this is ridiculously fun i love these two haters

219 notes · View notes

milkteabinniechan · 5 days

Text

†Dancing With Shadows - Minho

MINORS DNI 18+ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: vampire! Minho x fem! reader

summary: Loneliness. Isolation. The only place a modern-day vampire can blend in is a dark, crowded nightclub. Minho has learned how to live without temptation, until you ask him to dance...

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, biting, predator/prey dynamic, character d3ath (sorry)

a/n: this one is definitely more scary than romantic. Minho has been a vampire for a long time and unfortunately you weren't able to survive this encounter. Next week will be more fluff I promise!

Did you know that the decibel level that can damage a human ear is 85? That's it. The average decibel level of a night club is 90 decibels. The decibels of a human’s scream is 120. This nightclub is pushing 88.7 at the moment. The bouncer looks annoyed. The bartender looks exhausted. And this is just a Tuesday night. This place gets a lot more out of hand on the weekends. But the weekends get too crowded for me. Crowds of people ask too many questions.

Why are you so pale? How old are you exactly? Why are your hands so cold? When humans drink, they have a tendency to be a bit nosy. But on a Tuesday, the crowd is small. The humans keep to themselves and their friends. That's where I fit in. Alone. Unassuming. Just a guy at the bar.

“Do you want to dance?”

You were very unassuming yourself. Not a particularly remarkable human being. Nothing about you screamed confident or powerful. You actually seemed a bit out of place here. This place of loud music and flashing lights. I knew one thing for certain however. You smelled absolutely incredible. A smell that only my heightened senses could pick up. This wasn't a perfume or a type of shampoo. This was a scent that shot straight through my lifeless body into my cold, unbeating heart. Damn you. You poor little thing. What do I do now?

**************

You liked this dive bar. During the day it was filled with greasy men in trucker hats that teemed around a single pool table or a single girl. But at night, the owner would turn the lights down and the music loud. Everyone blended in when the lights were low. You always enjoyed the night time. The cool air, the stars, the sounds. You even liked the people. That's when he caught your eye. Slumped against the bar, avoiding eye contact with everyone that passed him by. Mr. Cool Guy, huh? We'll see. You quickly made your way over to where he was posted and gave him your best flirtatious tone. How could he resist?

The two of you made your way to the dancefloor as soon as a new song was about to start. The beat started low and began to build. Like the Earth was literally rising around the two of you, Mr. Cool grabbed your waist and pulled you in. He was freezing. You were burning up. As you pressed your body into his, you worried you might melt him like an ice cube in the Sun. But he continued to dance with you. His moves were fluid and ancient. Like he had all the time in the world to learn every dance style ever created. He was talented. He was exotic. And you didn't know it yet, but you were completely under his spell.

You gripped his hand in yours and whispered softly, “come with me.”

He nodded as you pulled him off the dancefloor and into a darkened corner. You backed yourself into where the two walls meet and let his tall, slender frame cage you in. You looked up while he looked down, the two of you lingering in a heated standoff for what felt like an eternity.

“What's your name?” You finally managed to ask, your voice no more than a whisper.

“Does it matter?” He answered. His thumb brushing along your bottom lip.

You thought about the question for a moment. Does it matter? echoed in your head as you melted into the sensation of his thumb pulling and rubbing against your bottom lip and then your top.

“...No, it doesn't.” You responded without warning. Not even you were sure where that answer came from.

“Good girl.” He said, his voice taking on a more sinister tone.

You fluttered your eyes closed as you felt his lips press into yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle. Almost loving, like the two of you had been lovers in many lives before this. The nightclub seemed to crumble away at your feet and you felt like you were floating. Not floating in the happy, romantic sense. Floating in a way that felt like you could fall at any moment and no one would catch you. That you would fall and you would die. And this handsome, mysterious, terrifying stranger would be the one to blame.

His hands snaked up your sides and tangled into your hair. His tongue pushed its way inside your mouth like it belonged there. Your tongue followed suit and danced around his open mouth. Soon the euphoric feeling of floating gave way to a sharp pain. You snapped your head back and brought your fingers to your tongue to feel a deep cut. Fresh blood coated your fingertips as you looked from your hand to the mystery man. His smile changed from one of flirtation to one of malice. His teeth gleamed in the flickering floodlights above you revealing two impossibly sharp canines dripping with your blood. Your eyes grew large and wet with unshed tears as your brain tried to make sense of what was happening. All of your senses were heightened and your body was trying to protect itself as you tried to break free from the wall. But the handsome stranger was too quick, pinning your wrists against the hard brick. His smile grew more menacing as his lips inches closer and closer to your neck.

“Well, I didn't want you to find out this quickly. I wanted to have a little more fun with you first, but here we are. Oh well. At least you'll taste good.”

A deep chuckle pierced your eardrums louder than the music. A laughter that guaranteed that this was going to be your last moment alive. You screamed loud. The loudest you had ever screamed. It was all you could think to do.

But your screams fell on deaf ears as the music around you boomed and blasted. The last sensation you remember is sharp teeth sinking into your flesh like tissue paper. Like your human body was nothing more than a midnight snack for some unholy creature. Some godless abomination that laid its sights on you. It was all a waiting game. A predator that had already found its prey and just enjoyed the sight of it dancing around before he devoured it.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star

181 notes · View notes

standfucker · 9 months

Text

Gremlin Reader Headcanons - Straw Hats, Whitebeard Pirates, Heart Pirates, Kid Pirates

CW: shenanigans, tomfoolery, and hullabaloo

Straw Hats

You and Luffy are BEST BUDS. You butted heads when you first met just from being a bit too similar, but now you understand each other like no one else.

“Quit eating stuff off the floor!” Nami snaps as you and Luffy reach for a cube of steak that fell from your plate. “Five second rule,” Luffy says. You both smack at each other’s hands, but he ends up maneuvering and grabbing the meat first thanks to his stretchiness. You respond by shoving his entire hand, still holding the steak bit, into your mouth. Luffy shouts, then laughs. Nami yells, “Y/N, ew! That’s even worse!” “You don’t know where that’s been,” Zoro adds. Luffy screams for real when you bite his hand, but he also lets go of the steak, so it’s a win. (It was yours in the first place.)

While your bathing habits are better than Zoros, it’s not by much. If you’re a girl, expect Nami to literally drag you to bathe with her and Robin. She’ll wash your hair for you if you promise to stop using soap bubbles to give yourself a beard and call yourself the “Saponicus the Bath Wizard.” At least Robin finds it funny.

Also, if you’re a girl…you put Sanji through it. Rather than getting a broom to shoo you from your perch on top of the fridge, he tries to coax you down with sweet words and sweeter foods. Instead of yelling at you for eating off the floor, he’ll wash off whatever fell for you. If you try to eat a piece of what he’s cooking, he’ll simply make you a small side plate to tide you over. To Sanji, your weird habits are endearing. But if you’re a guy? He’ll just kick your ass.

If you occupy that odd space in between genders (or lack thereof,) however, the poor cook does not know how to deal with you. After much stumbling over the subject and at first treating you how you most closely present, he ends up finding a neutral middle ground that makes you both happy.

You play with Franky a lot. You like to climb him like a jungle gym–he’s just shaped so perfectly for it. Sometimes you’ll sneak up behind Franky, jump and reach around to boop his nose to surprise him and change his hair. Every now and then he anticipates your strikes and catches you by the arm, holding you off the ground as penance for your crimes. You swing and wrap your legs around his rectangular arm to retaliate, and he’ll wave his arm to try to jostle you. It’s all fun and games until you get flung off the ship.

Once you discovered how light Brook was, you realized you could pick him up. This led to you plucking him off the ground at random and using him as a jousting lance with which to harass Zoro. Brook started to wisen up to that gleam in your eye, using his cane to keep you at a distance or jab you lightly.

Whitebeard Pirates

There are a lot of crewmates, and you manage, somehow, to be the most feral of them all. Marco calls you “the ship’s pet, Y/N” as a joke.

Unless it’s snowing, you go barefoot everywhere. The soles of your feet have thickened considerably, and you occasionally entertain your brothers by showing off how you can stick safety pins through the very bottom layers of skin. This leads to Marco yelling at you to stop playing with sharps, and that you’re going to accidentally hurt yourself.

Poor Marco has to look out for you often, especially because you do things like get into wrestling matches with the biggest crewmates. You don’t have the size to do much, but if you get pinned, you cheat by biting your opponent. This usually worked for you until you cracked a tooth on Jozu, earning a stern “I told you so” from the first division commander.

Ace is a reformed gremlin and so takes you under his wing. You remind him of Luffy, so he’s quite fond of you compared to the rest. The two of you bring out the worst in each other’s bad habits, indulging the other. If you two are ever spotted together and giggling, the others know to be concerned, as you’re certainly up to something, usually pranks.

The only person who can get you to behave is Whitebeard, and he doesn’t bother most of the time, feeling it better for his children to “sort themselves out”. But he’s not wrong–the crew takes care of you no matter what mischief you get up to.

“I bet you can’t steal Vista’s hat,” Thatch challenges you and Ace one day. You’re always well-mannered toward Thatch, because he’s in charge of the food, but that doesn’t mean you guys won’t challenge each other to dares. “I bet I can steal it before Ace does,” you immediately respond. Ace protests fiercely, and the game is on. Ace takes a straight-forward approach, sprinting down the deck like he’s going to run past Vista, leaping into the air, and going to swipe it off. Vista blocks his hand with a raised arm. “What are you doing?” Vista questions. “Nothing,” Ace says, jumping again and promptly getting grabbed by the arm and tossed aside. This repeats, with Ace making big, energetic attempts to steal that hat and getting thrown around instead, over and over with no success. You wait until Ace has calmed down, then approach Vista. “Can I tell you something?” you ask, motioning him to lean in closer. Vista’s smart enough to know why you want him to bend down, but his reflexes are quick, so he leans over anyway. “Yes?” You stick your fingers up his nose. Vista makes a muffled, indignant shriek, flinching. Completely caught off guard, he’s too slow to stop you from snatching the hat off his head. “Run!” Ace screams, and you book it with Ace joining at your side. You wave the hat and yell, “Burn it, Ace!” mostly joking. “I’ll gut you both!” Vista shouts, hot on your heels, drawing his swords as he chases you two down, the sounds of your crazed laughter echoing through the deck. Marco sighs and gets ready to heal you again.

Heart Pirates

You would tire out Law, but you’ve been a part of the crew for so long that he’s used to your antics. Really, you tire out Bepo, who’s in charge of keeping you in line.

The Polar Tang has a ventilation system to keep airflow and environmental controls during dives. You like to crawl into the vent shafts for fun and because they’re a cozy, private space away from everyone else. Whenever no one can find you, Law locates you on the ship and uses his power to teleport you out. You’ll be napping peacefully, shirking your duties, and suddenly you’re falling through the air and onto the floor in front of your captain–whoops, busted.

Once you tried to steal Law’s hat as a joke. He removed your hands for the rest of the day, stating you’d lost hand privileges.

“Aw, but Captain, your hair looks so nice,” you whined, and Law’s cheeks turned pink. “You’ll get your hands back tomorrow,” he ignored your statement and tossed your hands into a sack, tying it shut.

After that you had to mop the Polar Tang by biting the mop handle, which your crewmates said you took to way too easily.

You’ll sometimes leap onto Bepo’s back, gently tugging on his ears–they’re so round and cute. Resigned, he just supports your legs and lets you. When you can’t resist and end up biting his ear, he yelps, then states that you remind him of the folks from his home island of Zou, and finds it almost soothing.

You, Penguin and Shachi have an ongoing prank war. It’s one you all keep contained so that it doesn’t reach Law, but is otherwise ruthless. Shachi’s been pantsed by you so many times you’re pretty sure you’ve seen every pattern of underwear he owns, but it’s his fault for letting his guard down so frequently. None of you are safe falling asleep first around the others lest you get your face scribbled on, hence your habit of napping in the air vents.

The Polar Tang doesn’t get visitors, but very rarely will gain a new crewmate. As one of the first handful of people recruited, you liked to make noises in the air vents and had certain newbies convinced the ship was haunted. It didn’t help that you told creepy stories of ghosts of people who died deep underwater, where the ship was currently sailing through… Ikkaku always chided you to stop freaking people out.

Though most would expect Law to get annoyed by you, he actually takes comfort in your antics. You’re consistent, at least, in a chaotic world. He can always count on you to keep spirits up and to keep the rest of the crew on their toes.

You’re settled in an air vent with a flashlight and a book one day. You hear a muffled “Room,” from somewhere, then Law appears next to you, having to hunch over so he can fit. “Oh, hey, Captain,” you say. “You know,” Law says, “I think you’ve actually got the right idea. Some days the Polar Tang, despite everything, feels too big... Some days even my quarters feel too big.” “Is today one of those days?” you ask as Law inspects the vent walls. They’re clean–likely your doing–which surprises him. He nods. “You should try taking a nap. It’s very cave-like and cozy here.” “Do you just lay out on the metal?” he questions. “Yep. But if that’s uncomfortable for you, well…” you pat your lap, completely nonchalant. Law studies your face. You give him a cheery smile. He sighs, and stretches out. It’s more comfortable this way. He rests his head on your lap. You continue reading quietly, angling your book and the light away from Law’s face. He adjusts slightly and deflates, relaxing. Right before falling asleep, he takes off his hat.

Kid Pirates

You fit right in with the Kid pirates. No one gives you so much as a second glance for most of the things that you do. For the most part, your level of gremlin behavior is not that much more intense than some of the other crewmates.

Though Kid/Killer/Wire will pick you up by your jacket hood when you act up too much. You retaliate by pinching the offender’s nostrils shut. This leads to you getting scolded, but you start laughing because they talk with a “congested” voice. Eventually you get threatened with being thrown overboard, which finally makes you fall in line.

You’re good with electrical work. Aside from using a stun gun in battle, you like to take the little metal creatures that Kid makes and soup them up with lights and sounds. Usually you just add glowing eyes and fins as an accent, but sometimes you use your powers for evil: once you added a timed speaker to a doll that went off in the middle of the night, scaring the bejesus out of the sleeping crew.

Killer is strict about not eating food before it’s ready, but it doesn’t stop you from trying to snack on ingredients. You’ll sneak into the kitchen (poorly–you are not quiet) and try to swipe food when you think he’s not looking. Killer will see your hand reach up in his peripheral vision and feel around the countertop. He plunges a knife into the countertop inches from your fingers, making you freeze before slowly withdrawing. However, you know he would never actually stab you, so you never really give up.

You’re really good at making Kid laugh with your antics. He doesn’t even realize it until much later on in the time he’s known you. You and Kid are watching Killer cook one day, steaks sizzling beautifully on the pan, and more raw meat is piled on a plate on the table before you, waiting for its turn. “Why does raw meat look so appealing?” you say. “I kind of don’t want to wait for it to cook.” “I’m not feeding you raw meat,” Killer says. You open your mouth to make the obvious lewd joke, but Kid shoots you a look that says don’t. You close your mouth. “I know what you mean,” Kid says. You both look at the raw steak. The filets are ruby-red, glistening, with cream streaks of fat that promise to melt once on the pan. “I just want to bite into the whole thing and shake my head like a dog,” you voice your thoughts. “Then do it,” Kid says offhandedly. You pluck a raw steak from the pile, sink your teeth in, and do exactly that, growling as the steak whips from side to side. Kid bursts out laughing, caught by surprise, while Killer snaps out your name, far less amused. As Killer scolds you, Kid thinks about how impulsive you are and how often you make him laugh like that and how much he likes you. And then it hits him–wait, oh god, oh no. You’ve taken the steak out of your mouth and are laughing at yourself, and you look so nice when you’re smiling oh NO. Kid’s gone red in the face while you try to appease Killer. “My mouth germs will burn off when you cook it,” you argue. “That doesn’t matter. You’re going to get sick,” Killer grumbles. “Don’t do it again.” “Okay, fine…Hm? Kid?” you tilt your head at him. “You okay? You look a bit flushed.” “Shut up! I’m fine.” Kid says defensively. “Okaaay, moody. Sheesh, sorry for caring.” And that just makes it worse, because Kid’s now also realizing you do actually care, don’t you? Bringing him things when he’s holed up late at night in his workshop, bothering him when his mood’s down and he needs to be distracted, helping him oil the parts of his metal arm and laughing it off when you get covered in grease. “Don’t get all sweet on me, you little punk.” Kid mutters. “You’re right. I ought to stick to salty things. Like Killer’s mea–” “STOP.”

#one piece imagines #one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #eustass kid x reader #trafalger law x reader #zen writes

462 notes · View notes

joeyb1989 · 2 months

Text

accidentally* - joe burrow

word count: 6.2k

pairing: joe burrow x reader

warnings: smut, fwb, small angst, love triangle, fluff, cussing

a/n: okay i decided to split this up into parts because im not sure if i want this to be a series yet or not LMAO. i’m not sure how many parts there would be, but right now there’s at least one more part planned. the next part should be out within the next week or so. also if some of this looks familiar, remember i posted a sneak peek a few days ago. i hope you all enjoy 💕

edit: after starting to write the third part of this series, i decided to change the timeline a bit. the series now starts before OTA’s (which are taking place during April for the sake of the story) instead of training camp.

——

April 2024

“Well if it isn’t my favorite media manager,” Joe smiled at you, waving over the bartender.

You smiled at the much taller quarterback, who was now sitting next to you.

OTA’s were starting the following week and Coach Taylor wanted the team and staff to have fun before the season began.

“Well if it isn't my favorite quarterback,” you teased.

You’d been working for the Bengals for as long as Joe has played for them. On your first day, you had a little incident – which introduced you to the dirty blonde.

Flashback to your first day

It was your first day working for the Bengals media team. You were so anxious about your first day. You were fresh out of college and felt intense pressure on you to succeed. You had only been in the facility for 30 minutes and you were already wishing the day was over. Not that you hated your job already, you were just so nervous.

You had been in a meeting with the rest of the media team – which you had just learned is a frequent thing – when you had to rush across the facility to get all the equipment that would be needed for the practice that day. As you rounded a corner, you were hurrying and not paying attention until you felt your body collide with somebody else’s. You look to see that you spilled your iced coffee on a very tall, and very fit man’s white t-shirt.

“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry,” you apologized, picking up the plastic cup and ice cubes off the floor.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said, helping you pick up the rest of the ice.

“I wasn't looking where I was going,” you both said in unison.

You both laughed before he extended his hand to you, “I’m Joe.”

“I’m Y/n,” you smiled, shaking his hand.

You had heard a couple of your co-workers gossiping about the rookie quarterback named Joe. They said that he was handsome but you never imagined him to be this handsome.

“You look awfully pretty to be a football player,” Joe said with a smirk

Your cheeks heated up at his compliment, “I’m the new media team intern.”

“Ah, that makes more sense,” he laughed, “make sure to get my good side out there.”

“I’ll try my best,” you giggled

“I’ll see you around, Y/n.”

“I’ll see you around, Joe,” you said, making your way to get the camera equipment.

End of flashback

After your and Joe’s little mishap on your first day, it sparked something between you two. Both of you had just gotten out of long-term relationships just before you met, so by ‘spark,’ you meant friends with benefits; even though both of you always felt something more.

“Will you put her drinks on my tab?” Joe asked the bartender.

“You don’t have to do that,” you smiled

“But I want to,” Joe smiled back.

After talking for about 20 minutes about anything and everything while drinking many rounds, you both were hammered.

All of a sudden, Joe loudly gasped, “We should play darts!”

“Okay,” you chirped, “Let’s do it!”

Joe led you over to the dart board, where he was destroying you.

“Joeeee, I never was very good at darts,” you whined

Joe smiled before walking behind you, “Let me help.”

His large left hand was on your hip, your back was against his chest, and you could feel his cock on your ass. His right hand guided yours, which contained a dart, to the board, getting you 20 points. Your breath hitched when he leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Has anyone told you that you look absolutely sexy in this dress.”

Even though you and Joe have hooked up a bunch of times, you swore you could have seen a twinkle in his eyes.

“Mmm, no,” you say, “just you.”

“I don't believe you,” Joe chuckled. “You’re the most gorgeous woman in this place,” he whispered. His words were so sweet that you literally thought you died and this was heaven. Your stomach filled with butterflies at his words. You turned around in his grasp, his arms going around your waist as your hands landed on his chest.

“I think you’re the most handsome man here,” you smiled

You leaned forward and captured his lips in a sweet kiss before it heated up. His hand fell from your waist to your ass as you sucked on his bottom lip. You two pulled away for air when he bent down to whisper in your ear again, “Let’s get out of here.”

20 minutes later

“Oh my g- god, Joe!” you moaned as your orgasm washed over you. After leaving the bar in an Uber, Joe spent some time worshiping your body and eating you out like you were his last meal once you arrived at his place

He continued lapping your juices up as you came down from your climax. Once your breathing returned to normal, he leaned over the top of you, pressing feather-like kisses to your jaw.

“Are you okay?” he asked

“Mhm,” you smile, “but I need you inside of me.”

His eyes grew darker and filled with lust at your words. At the speed of light, he pulled his jeans and boxers down.

Now that he was free, you look at his thick and pulsing cock. Precum was dripping out of his tip as he lined himself up with your core. No matter how many times you’ve seen it, his dick is always mesmerizing to you

He teased your slick folds with his tip, chuckling when you became a whimpering mess under him.

“Please Joe,” you whined

“Please what, baby?” Joe asked with a smirk

“Please, fuck me,” you moaned

That was all Joe needed to hear before he sank his cock into you. You both moaned at the sensation of being balls-deep inside of you. “Let me know when it’s okay for me to move,” Joe said as he peppered kisses on your forehead. Joe was always sweet with you while fooling around with you. You always wondered what he was like with girlfriends if he was this sweet with his fuck-buddy.

After a couple of minutes, you gave him the okay to move. His thrusts started slow and gentle, afraid he might hurt you. He soon quickened up the pace, his tip ramming into your cervix with each thrust.

“You are so. fucking. tight.,” he groaned, punctuating each word with a rough thrust.

“Joe- oh my- don’t stop!” you moaned, your hands moving to send scratches down his toned back.

“Y/n,” Joe moaned into your neck, “You feel so good, baby.”

You pull on Joe’s curls, guiding his head so that your lips meet for a sloppy kiss.

After one particularly rough thrust, his cock grazing your g-spot, you felt that unmistakable feeling in your belly building up, begging to be released.

“Joe… I’m gonna cum-” you moaned into his mouth

“Fuck, me too,” Joe moved his hand down to where you two connected, rubbing soft circles on your clit.

You were practically screaming when you came for a second time. After a few more rough thrusts, Joe shot his hot load into you, before collapsing onto your chest.

Once you both came down from your highs, Joe pulled out of you and got up. He headed for the bathroom, coming back into the bedroom a couple of minutes later with a wet washcloth. He cleaned you up before crawling back into bed. He pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead delicately.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Joe yawned

“Goodnight, Joey,” you smiled.

The next morning

The bright sunlight seeped into the room from Joe’s window. For a minute, you were confused about where you were until you remembered the events of last night. Feeling weight on your chest, you look down to see Joe with his head on your chest, his curls falling over his forehead. His arms were wrapped loosely around your waist. You brought your hand up to his curls, lightly brushing them out of his closed eyes until he began to stir in his sleep.

He slowly opened his eyes, meeting your gaze as a small smile made its way onto his face.

“Good morning,” he smiled, rolling off of you after pressing a kiss to your cheek and walking into his closet. He comes back a moment later with an old t-shirt of his and a pair of sweats. “I figured you would want to change into something more comfortable,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” you smile at his effort to keep you as comfortable as possible. As amazing as sex was with Joe, the aftercare was even better.

“I’m going to go start breakfast,” he smiles, stepping into fresh boxers and sweatpants.

“You don’t have to do that for me-” you say

“But I want to,” Joe interrupts you, echoing his words from last night

“Okay, I’ll be down there in a minute,” you sigh, playfully rolling your eyes. He nods and sends you a sweet smile before walking out of the room.

You sigh again, thinking about the conversation you had with Joe last night. Not once has Joe ever complimented you like that. People say that drunk words are sober thoughts, so were his words last night how he really feels? Or was it all of that tequila he drank?

“Ooooh, something smells nice down here,” you smile at the smell of the delicious breakfast Joe is making, “What is it?”

“Breakfast burritos,” he smiles, “There’s scrambled eggs, roasted potatoes, shredded cheese, avocado, turkey bacon, and salsa.”

“Yum,” you say, “That makes my mouth water just thinking about it,”

“I also know you like to have coffee every morning, so I made you some,” he smiles while handing you a mug, but it turns into a grimace, “I hope I didn't make it too sweet for you.”

You take a long sip of the hot drink, smiling because it tastes just the way you like it, “It’s perfect, Joe, thank you.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, furrowing your brows. “How do you know how I like my coffee?”

“I could say that I could tell when a certain someone spilled it on me, but you make it every time you’re over here.”

“Oh my god,” you cover your face with your hands, “that was the worst day of my life.”

“Wow the day you met me was the worst day of your life? Thanks, Y/n,” Joe joked

You playfully roll your eyes at him, “I didn't think you paid that much attention.”

“Go sit down, I’ll bring the burritos over in a sec,” Joe smiled before you did his bidding

You two exchanged some small talk over the heavenly burritos Joe prepared.

“How’s rehab coming along?”

Joe sighed before speaking, “Pretty good, I’m excited to get back out there.”

‘Yeah, well, in my opinion, you’re looking great out there,” you smile

“Thanks, but who knows how the season will go,” Joe sighs

“Joe..” you began but stopped when Joe gave you a don’t-go-there look. Joe always hated opening up to you about his struggles, so you let it go.

His house fell quiet again, your eyes going wide when you made a realization. “Joe,” you say, “Did we use a condom?”

Joe furrows his brows, thinking for a moment before his eyes go wide. “No.. uh we- we did not…”

There were a few quiet moments of panicking between the two of you before you spoke up again. “Hey, it’s okay… I’m on birth control,” you tried to soothe, even though your anxiety was out the roof.

“That’s not 100% accurate though, right,” Joe questioned

“Neither are condoms,” you state, matter-of-a-factly

Joe nods his head, running a hand through his hair. A few minutes of silence go by again before he speaks up, “Alright, so we should be good?”

“Yeah,” you smile

“Alright,” Joe nods, “We’re good.”

Eight weeks later

Spoiler alert: things were not good.

A couple of weeks after your and Joe’s drunken hookup, he very kindly explained to you that he started seeing someone and wanted to see where it went. You understood completely. Joe wasn't yours and you weren't his, so why wouldn't you understand?

As you were reviewing the new intern’s work, you felt your phone buzz from beside you. You pick it up and see a text from your mom.

Hey sweetie, are you feeling better?

She was referring to the fact that you have been dealing with on-and-off nausea and fatigue for the past couple of weeks. She has been bugging you to go to the doctor about it, but with being too busy with work lately, you haven't gotten the chance.

Yep, a bit. I should be alright to come to the cookout tonight though :)

Is your period late?

What?

Check your app.

You closed out the messages app and navigated to find your period app. Your heart drops when you see that your period is, in fact, late. Even worse, you scroll to see that the day you had sex with Joe was when you were ovulating.

Fuck.

Mom, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it to the cookout tonight.

A few hours later

After clocking out of work, you drove straight to the nearest drugstore to pick up a couple of pregnancy tests before driving home.

Now here you were, sitting on your bed with your leg bouncing up and down, a pregnancy test upside down on the bathroom counter, a timer on your phone counting down the seconds until your life could change forever.

You couldn't be pregnant. No way. You had always been so safe when it came to sex. In fact, this was the only time you and Joe had not worn a condom. ‘I’m never drinking alcohol again after this,’ you think to yourself.

You were pulled out of your trance by your timer going off. You flipped your phone over to turn it off, slowly standing up and walking into the bathroom. Your hands start shaking as you pick up the plastic test, your eyes immediately darting to the word ‘Pregnant,” indicating that you will be having a baby in just nine months.

Your mind immediately goes to Joe as you choke out sobs. He is already under so, so much pressure and you would hate to add to it. He was doing so well too. He was bouncing back quite well, and he seemed so happy. You didn’t want to ruin it all for him, but he has to know that he has a baby on the way.

The next day

After thinking about it the rest of the day, you decided the best thing to do was not bombard him at the facility. So, here you were standing on his porch, the positive pregnancy test in your purse, about to change the man’s life forever.

After knocking on the door, you thought about darting off the porch and speeding away in your car but didn't have time to even think about it until the door swung open.

“May I help you?” A short, blonde woman asked, your brows furrowed at her until it hit you.

Haley.

Flashback to your first time at Joe’s house

You were standing in Joe’s living room, him getting you a glass of water in the kitchen. You notice all his pictures on his TV stand, looking closer to see a short, blonde woman kissing his cheek at an LSU game.

“That’s Haley,” he gave a closed-lip smile.

The first night you and Joe hooked up, you two blabbed to each other about past relationships; Joe a little more than you.

“I’m still sorry for what she did,” you say

“You didn't do anything,” he says

You look back at the seemingly sweet girl in the picture frame. Even though you and Joe barely knew each other, he was still one of the sweetest guys you’ve met. You couldn't imagine how someone could treat him the way she did.

Not only did she cheat on him, but she cheated on him during Heisman weekend, in Haley and Joe’s hotel room. Even though Joe found out, he stayed with her until right before his first training camp.

“You don't deserve that, though,” you rub his shoulder.

“I meant to throw her pictures out, I’m sorry you saw them,” he said

“No I get it Joe, take your time,” you smiled

End of flashback

“Hey, uh… is Joe home,” you questioned

“What do you need him for?” she asked.

“We work together and there’s an urgent work thing that I need to ask him about,” you lie

“Well, he’s not home. I’m his girlfriend, I’ll tell him you stopped by,” she fake-smiled

“Okay, thank you,” internally rolling your eyes at her.

So much for telling him today.

The next day

“Come in,” you say after you hear a knock on your office door

“Hey, I heard you wanted to see me,” Joe smiled

“Hey, yeah… sit down,” you said, trying to prepare yourself for the conversation you’re about to have.

“What’s up,” he questions

“Joe… I don’t know any way to sugarcoat thi-” you say

“Then don’t,” Joe interrupted, “Just tell me.”

You look at him for a few moments, trying to find the courage to say those two words.

“I’m pregnant,” you whisper, avoiding making eye contact with him

His jaw drops open, “You.. yo- your- and I- I’m…?”

“You’re the father by the way, which maybe you picked up but I can’t understand your stuttering,” you nervously laugh

The room falls silent again for a few moments, both of you still in shock

“Are you… keeping it,” Joe questions

“Yeah, and don’t feel any pressure at all. You can be as involved as you want,” you soothe

Joe just sat there, staring off into space, trying to wrap his mind around everything.

“Y/n.. I just need a bit to think things over, I’m sorry…” Joe says, getting up and walking out of your office.

Later that night

You were reading a magazine about everything expecting mothers should be doing when you heard a knock on your door. You open the door and are surprised at what you see.

“What are you doing here,” you ask

“Can I come in,” Joe questions

“Of course,” you step aside to let him in your house.

“I’m here to talk about the baby,” he blurts

“Okay, go ahead,” you gave a small smile

“I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier. It just all came as a shock and I didn’t know how to handle it. I mean you know me, I’m not ready to be a dad. Even if this definitely wasn't planned, I’m not walking out on you or our baby,” Joe rants

You smile before walking over to him, engulfing him in a hug, “Thank you, Joe. But you are going to be a great dad.”

“I’m sure you saw Haley when you came over yesterday,” Joe said

“Yeahhhh,” you drag out. You’ve made your feelings about her very obvious to Joe before.

“I told her about it and she isn't exactly… thrilled,” Joe grimaced, “but she wants to stay with me, so.”

“Okay…?” you furrow your brows

“I just wanted to tell you so you would know,” Joe sheepishly smiled

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I have my first appointment in a few days, you are welcome to come if you would like.”

“Consider me there,” Joe says, pressing a kiss to your forehead

A few days later

“Hey, Joe,” you smile

“Hey Y/n,” Joe opens your car door for you

“Are you excited to see our little one,” Joe smiles, jogging to the driver’s side of the car

“I am, I didn't know you would be,” you say

“How come,” Joe asked, pulling out of your driveway

“I don't know, I just feel like I’m forcing you to take me,” you mumble

“Y/n, I would do anything for y- the baby,” Joe paused, “I’d do anything for the baby, so you aren’t forcing me,” Joe squeezed your hand reassuringly.

Ever since you told Joe about the baby, his whole attitude towards you has changed. He’s seemed happier to see you, he’s texted you every day, checking up on his little guy or girl growing inside of you. He even offered to take you to the appointment. Not that Joe wasn't nice to you before, it was just different.

——

Pulling into the doctor’s office parking lot, Joe turned the car off, letting out a sigh. You noticed him playing with his wristbands, something he often did if something was bothering him.

“Joe, what’s wrong,” you question as you meet his gaze.

“I’m fine,” he said, even though his eyes told you otherwise. You didn't have time to respond to him as he got out of the car and jogged over to your side, opening the door.

“You know I’m pregnant, not incapable of opening a door, right,” you tease

“Please, you know I’ve opened doors for you before I got you pregnant,” he smiled

“I guess you’re right,” you playfully roll your eyes.

After checking in and waiting in the waiting room, you see Joe fidgeting with his wristbands and bouncing his leg up and down out of the corner of your eye.

“Joe,” you say, placing your hand on his thigh, “seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles but sighs when you raise an eyebrow at him. “Just nerves.”

“You can talk to me about it if you want,” you soothe, rubbing his shoulder

He looks into your eyes a moment, before running a hand through his hair. “I’m scared that I’m not going to be a good father, Y/n.”

His words shocked you. In all the time that you’ve known Joe, he’s never been one to open up with you on that level

“I mean, I’m in such a good place with the wrist, and I’m so excited for the season, but what if I’m not around enough for it,” Joe confessed

“Joe, I should be due in March. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be done with football in February. You’re going to be an excellent father too, you are caring and compassionate. You do everything you do with 120% effort, I expect nothing less than your role as a father too,” you smile

“Thank you Y/n,” Joe smiles, grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Y/n,” a nurse calls

“That’s us,” you smile, signaling for Joe to stand up.

——

“Okay, this gel might be a little cold,” the ultrasound tech warns

After talking with your doctor, you and Joe were now in the tech room, about to see your baby for the first time.

“There it is,” the tech smiles, directing the screen towards you two. Both you and Joe choked up at seeing the baby. There was nothing like seeing the baby and hearing its heartbeat that you both made. The baby on a screen in a cold lab room will soon be a little Y/n or a little Joe running around.

After finishing up the ultrasound, the tech printed out the ultrasound and gave you the pictures. “I’ll give you two a minute,” she smiles, walking out of the room

“I can’t believe we made that,” you say looking at the pictures of your little baby.

“I know,” Joe choked out, tears running down his face.

You turn your head to look at him, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears off his face. Your eyes drop down to his pink lips, wanting nothing more to press yours to them; but you can’t. Instead, you just bring him in for a tight hug, while he presses a kiss to your forehead.

20 minutes later

“So wait,” you say, popping a french fry into your mouth, “You think that aliens are already here?”

“Absolutely, I mean… I’m sure that if they are smart enough to visit us, then they are smart enough to cloak themselves from us so we can’t see them,” Joe replies, sipping his milkshake

“Mmmm, okay,” you giggle

After your appointment, you and Joe saw a 60’s themed diner down the street that neither of you had tried. Somehow the conversation drifted from the baby to aliens.

“You’re not gonna see aliens on an iPhone, Y/n,” Joe scoffs playfully

“I guess you’re right,” you smile

“You know I am,” Joe teases

“We need to go back to talking about the baby, Joe,” you laugh, “I don’t even know how we got started on the aliens.”

Joe nodded, “Okay, okay… so we made the agreement that you would move in with me once the lease on your apartment is up, right?”

“Yes, and I should be five-ish months by then,” you nod

“I have the space for your room and a baby nursery,” Joe said, “in case you were worried about that.”

“I know Joe, the only thing I’m worried about is Haley,” you said

“Rightttt,” Joe grimaced

Flashback to when Joe told Haley

“What do you mean pregnant,” Haley screamed, “Joe, I don't even know why you would associate yourself with that slut!”

Joe was headed to your apartment to talk to you after he stormed out of your office earlier that day, but wanted to tell Haley first.

“Haley, don’t talk about her like that. I was the one that didn't use protection,” Joe tries to calm her down

Haley scoffed, “What the fuck do you mean, Joe. She is literally trying to baby-trap you!”

Joe rolled his eyes, “Haley, I know this is hard for you to-”

“No, you don’t, Joe! I mean how could you do this to me,” Haley said

“Haley, I understand that this complicates a lot, but I want to stay with you. I’m heading over there to talk to her,” Joe stated

“Like hell you are,” Haley said, trying to grab his car keys out of his hand, “As your girlfriend, I don't think you should see her anymore.”

“I can do what I damn well please,” Joe raised his voice, slamming the front door behind him.

End of flashback

“How is she coming along,” you ask, taking a bite of your cheeseburger.

‘She thinks I’m at practice right now but instead, I’m with you because she doesn't want me seeing you,’ Joe thought

“She’s not too happy, but she will come around,” Joe smiles

“Good, good,” you smile, “We also agreed that we will see each other two times a week outside of work so that we can get closer and you can build a relationship with the baby, right?”

“Yeah,” Joe smiles, “I’m glad that I’m having a baby with you, Y/n. Anyone else wouldn't put in this effort to make it work.”

“Of course, anything for you the baby,” you smile

Joe ponders for a minute before speaking up, “How about we have dinner with Haley soon? I know you two haven't officially met. Maybe it will help her get more comfortable with the situation.”

‘It’s a good thing Joe loves her,’ you think to yourself

“I think that’s a great idea, Joe,” you smile, not because you’re happy to see her, but because you know it will make him happy.

A few weeks later

“Gold or silver jewelry,” you ask your sister, Abby, who came over to help ease your nerves.

“Silver,” she replied, standing next to the doorway, “You gonna be okay?”

You take a deep breath before replying, “Yeah, I’ll be alright. Just nervous.”

Tonight was the scheduled dinner between you, Haley, and Joe. Your nerves have skyrocketed over the past couple of days. Tonight was a big deal for the future of your and Joe’s co-parenting plan, as well as the baby. Haley was, rightfully, upset when she found out about the baby, but from what you heard about her, you know that she was more upset than Joe let on.

The current plan was for you to move in with Haley and Joe in two months. She was already living with him because Joe found some way to love the monster of a woman Haley is, despite everything she has done to him.

“That dress really shows off the bump,” your sister smiles at your growing three-month bump. Even though it was barely there, you loved nothing more than seeing it poke out in certain clothes.

“Are you staying here while I’m gone,” you ask while stuffing your phone, lip balm, wallet, and keys into your purse.

“No, I’m gonna head out when you leave,” Abby answers, “I need to head home and finish packing for my trip this weekend.”

“You can stay here and watch reruns of Keeping Up with The Kardashians if you want,” you say, knowing your sister would want to postpone packing for as long as possible

“I’ll think about itttt,” your sister replies, both of you knowing she is definitely staying.

“Okay, well I got to go grab dinner with my ex-situationship – aka my baby daddy – and his toxic girlfriend that probably wants to claw my eyes out,” you laugh

“Y/n, it’s going to be okay. We all know that you and Joe are going to be together before that baby comes out of you anyway,” Abby soothes

You stop dead in your tracks, “Abby… what?”

“Y/n… literally the way you just talk about Joe shows me how you feel about him. I mean you two have so much in common, you work together, and I mean you’re having a baby together. I know he feels the same way you do. He opens up to you, he literally treats you like his girlfriend, and the effort he’s putting in for the baby. He can say it’s for the baby, and it probably is, but it is also for you. Sure he has a girlfriend, but it’s only a matter of time before he realizes that he deserves the love you can give him,” your sister says.

Was Abby right, do you have feelings for Joe? Ever since you two met, Joe has always been a great friend and a sweet lover. As time went on and the more you two hooked up, it’s like he disappeared. He was still kind and gentle, but it was like he shut off. He would barely talk or open up to you, but that all stopped when you told him about the baby. He kept his promise to you about coming over twice a week; in fact, he was coming over more than twice a week. Even though this situation wasn’t ideal, it felt like you two were heading in the right direction. Even if you did have feelings for him, there was no way he felt the same for you.

Flashback to last week

“Ja’marr is Daddy’s best friend, but you can’t forget the others either. Justin, Sam, and Nick. You’ll get to see us all play football together, pumpkin,” Joe talked softly to your small bump. This was the fifth day he was over in a row.

Ever since you two went to the ultrasound together, Joe started to call the baby, ‘pumpkin.’ He said that the baby needed a nickname since you two still don’t know the gender.

“Mommy and Daddy are so excited to meet you. I can’t wait to-” Joe said, getting interrupted by the alarm on his phone. Joe sighed as he turned the alarm off, obviously disappointed. Joe sat up straight and looked at you, “Gotta go to practice.”

“Then go, we’ll be okay,” you smile, “You can come over after if you want.”

“I’ll have to see if Haley will let me,” Joe sighs, rubbing a hand over his face

“What do you mean let you,” you furrow your brows

“She doesn't like how much time we’ve been spending together, but she doesn't control me. I’m going to see my baby, and you, Y/n. She’s just going to have to accept that,” Joe said

A small smile pulled at your lips as you nodded, “Well, we’ll be happy to have you over any time. You need to get going though, Cincinnati needs their quarterback.”

Joe’s smile faltered at the mention of practice, making you raise an eyebrow. “Joe, it’ll be okay. Our pumpkin won’t be here for another 29 weeks. You have time to make it up to it.”

“It’s not that, Y/n. I’m just… nervous for practice, I guess,” Joe sheepishly smiled, “I know what people are saying about me and the injury. I just… I feel like I got this far for nothing. What if the people are right?”

You gave him a small smile, holding his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “It’s okay to be nervous, Joe. I mean, you did have a season-ending injury last season, but you need to remember that you are Joe fucking Burrow. You can do anything, and I mean anything, you put your mind to. You rehabbed the wrist like an actual beast and it’s time to show the world what you can do.”

Joe pulled you into a tight hug, being careful of your bump. “Thank you,” he whispered against your ear.

“Go get em, Shiesty,” you giggle

End of flashback

“Abby, you’re delusional as hell. Enjoy your trashy TV show, love ya!” you say as you walk out of your apartment.

You wanted nothing more than for Joe to be yours, but that was so far out of reach that you shouldn't even dwell on it.

——

“Hey, Y/n,” Joe smiles as you meet the couple in the parking lot of Jeff Ruby’s.

“Hey, Joe,” you hug him as you can feel someone’s eyes shooting daggers at you.

“This is uh… Haley,” he said motioning towards the blonde woman.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, officially,” you smile, extending your hand out towards her

“Yeah, so nice,” she fake smiles, grabbing your hand and yanking you forward, nearly pulling you to the ground

“How about we go eat,” Joe says, trying to break the tension.

——

About 45 minutes later, Joe was laughing at something you said, while trying to not choke on his water.

You thought the evening was going nice, the three of you were exchanging small talk; well more like you and Joe were having a great conversation and Haley was just… there.

“Do you remember the one time we walked in on Ja’marr and one of his women of the month,” Joe laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. How could I forget? I’m like permanently traumatized,” you join Joe in laughing

All the laughing and giggling came to a halt when two hands smashed on the table, you two looked over to see Haley, smoke practically coming out of her ears.

“Joe, what the fuck are you doing,” she asked, obviously annoyed

“What do you mean,” Joe questioned

“Joe you dragged me here so that I would feel more comfortable with this hag moving in, but it is making me feel worse. All you two have done is talk and talk and talk to each other about something only you two would understand. I am your girlfriend Joe. I am the one you go home to. I am the one who is there for you. I get that it’s all exciting right now, she’s still relatively thin and beautiful, but wait until she blows up like a balloon and you want nothing to do with her, she rants before looking at you, “Y/n, I hope you know that once that baby gets here, he will want nothing to do with the baby. You’ll be all by yourself in our house. Which, that is if he doesn't kick you out.” She smiled evilly

The table fell quiet, neither of you wanting to make eye contact with one another. Even though her words were just simply out of rage, it didn't mean that they didn't hurt. You were so scared that Joe would stop caring about you and your baby. Apparently, by her rant, she feels the same way. Your eyes started to get misty from her raised voice, your hormones, and your fears.

“I’m… uh gonna go home,” you muttered out

“Y/n, don’t go,” Joe pleaded

“No, you two have your thing. It was stupid of me to come between you two,” you walk out of the restaurant, tears streaming down your face

Joe tried to take your hand, but you pushed it away. He turned back around to see Haley sitting there with a satisfied look on her face.

30 minutes later

When you got back home, tears were streaming down your face. You walk into an empty apartment, which means Abby must’ve left at some point. You put down your purse and take off your sandals, about to head upstairs to change when you hear a knock on the door.

You walk to the door, slowly opening it, shocked when you see Joe. You wipe the remaining tears off of your face before speaking up. “What are you doing-”

Joe cuts you off by putting both hands on either side of your face, backing you up a bit as he smashes his lips onto yours.

~ to be continued ~

part two is here!!

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #bengals #joe burrow bengals #joeburrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic #bengals fic

368 notes · View notes

her-power · 2 months

Text

beg (joseph quinn x fem! reader)18+

warnings: language, strong sexual content, lots and lots of making out, bathroom fool around. It’s not that explicit (edit: it’s horny, whoops lol, there’s an unexpected belt restraining 😵‍💫) it’s playful, funny, but minors, stay the eff away.

summary: you run into JQ at a karaoke bar (I know, there’s a theme with these 😂) and drunkenly tell him that you wrote smut about him. he begs you to show him and he’s very…interested.

word count: idk, lots of words 🫠

You were drunk.

You didn’t mean to get this drunk, but there was something about the energy of a karaoke bar that made you want to get loaded. You had just finished singing Bohemian Rhapsody, and had received a roar from the crowd of people who sang along with you, and lots of clapping. Your friends wanted you to sing more, but you needed a break. And some water. You saunter over to the bar, asking for a glass of water which you chug down. Probably not the best idea, but you were thirsty, and it felt like it was thousands of degrees in the building. You took three ice cubes out of the glass and pop them in your mouth, cooling yourself down.

“Your Freddie Mercury dance moves was quite impressive.” A soft, English accented voice reaches your ears and you glance up at the man standing next to you. You gasp, an ice cube sliding down your throat causing you to choke a little. His eyes are wide and he’s almost laughing. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to make you choke.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You manage to breathe out.

Joseph fucking Quinn was standing next to you.

“I’m sorry, that was rude, hi…you are…wow. I must be really drunk cause there is no way you’re standing next to me.” You suppress a giggle and he chuckles.

“Nope, I am a real.” He leans against the bar, twirling his beer bottle. “You good? No more choking?”

“Uh…” you laugh, blindly searching for the bar stool which he scoots behind you and you sit. “Need to sit down for this, why are you in the most rural part of town at a hole in the wall karaoke bar?”

He laughs. “Been filming a movie the next town over, got some nice beaches down this way. This seemed like a good place to be unrecognizable.”

He meets your eyes.

Gods, he was beautiful.

You blush and look away. “Came to the right spot, it’s dim, dreary, smells like piss and shame. I don’t think my friends know where I went.” You glance around the bar, spotting your friends sitting at the table in the corner, drunkenly crying. Yeah, sitting right here feels much better than that, you think.

“My favorite kind of place.” He giggles. “What are you drinking?”

“You…NOPE…wow. Intrusive thoughts won, I’m so sorry.” You put your palms over your face and he laughs loudly. “Ughhhh, this is not happening. I’m making a fool out of myself in front of such a beautiful man. I used to be so good at this.”

“I think you’re being pretty adorable.” He says close to your ear and you almost yelp. He giggles at your behavior and you tell him you’ve been drinking bourbon all night. He orders you a drink and your hand shakes as you bring the rim to your lips.

“Easy, love. You don’t need to be nervous around me.” He nudges you with his shoulder and you relax a little.

“How do I know you’re not like Ted Bundy? Hmm?” You smile at him, taking a sip of his drink.

“Do I look like a serial killer?”

“Ted Bundy didn’t.” You counter and he smiles.

“Touché, but no, I’m not here to kill you.”

“Oh yeah? What are you here to do to me?”

Foot. In. Mouth. You’re gonna make him leave, you’re gonna make him go away by just being a fucking creep.

“What do you want me to do to you?” His voice is low, and your heart beats rapidly as you stare at him with your mouth hanging open. He smirks at you, gently taking his finger and lifting your chin to close your mouth, and winks.

“Oooookay…we’re flirting. This is…okay. Why do I feel like I’m in a setting of one of my stories?”

“Stories?”

Fuck me.

You groan. You need to learn to stop talking to yourself in public, because shit like this happens and you spill secrets you’re not supposed to spill. “Huh? What? No…I mean…nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Friends don’t lie.”

“Oh we’re friends? You don’t even know my name.”

“So tell me.” He turns towards you, your elbows are touching and his eyes are staring deep into yours, they subtly glance down your form and then meet your eyes again. You bite your bottom lip, smiling and tell him your name. “Okay, now we’re friends.”

“I’m not telling you what I said.” You laugh, sipping your drink. He looks at you shocked and the way he moved his head back was comical, you choke on your drink again.

“That is very rude and not fair.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, I wrote a story about you awhile back.”

He points to himself and smiles. “What kind of story?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Oh but I do.” He slides your bar stool closer to him. “Whisper it.”

He’s so close to you, you can smell his cologne and the subtle aroma of beer on his breath. You just stare at him, not answering him. “It’s naughty isn’t it?”

You look away from him, and blush. He gasps excitedly. “Show me!”

Your eyes widen. “What?! No way! It’s embarrassing and it’s horny.”

“Even better.”

“No.” You lean into him and smile. He groans, draping his arm over the back of your chair.

“What do I have to do to get you to show me?” His mouth is so close to yours. You wondered what his lips felt like. You had imagined it, clearly.

“Beg for it.” You smile and he laughs.

“Is that what I do in your story? Beg?”

A tingle forms in your belly at the way he said that and you blush. “I’m just kidding.”

“What if I’m not?”

“Okay, you need to settle down.” You laugh, playfully pushing him away and he giggles. “Can’t believe I’m flirting with you right now, this is insane. I have to pee…watch my drink.”

He smirks, sliding your drink next to his and placing his jacket over the back of your seat. Your legs immediately start shaking as you make your way to the bathroom, your friend Stacey is coming out of the bathroom as you open the door.

“Hey! We’re going, do you need a ride?” She asks you.

You glance back at the bar. “No, I’m okay. I can take an Uber home.”

“By yourself? I don’t know if I feel right about that.”

You gently pat her face. “I’ll be fine. I don’t really wanna share a ride with you all crying about what happened on Love Island.”

She laughs. “Shut up, I know. I hate myself too. Okay, please text me when you get home. Don’t go home with any strangers.” She kisses your cheek.

“Yes, mom.”

Ha, if only she knew.

Although, was he a stranger?

Yes, dumbass.

But, a highly known stranger.

Not in the middle of nowhere USA.

You push open the stall door, quickly do your business and wash your hands. There was no one else in there with you, and you took a minute to look over yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed from the embarrassment of telling him you wrote a sex story about him, and also the fact that he was so…flirtatious and sexy. You adjust your high waisted jeans and pull your black cropped tank down. As of lately; you have grown to love your body and its shape, but you were suddenly feeling self conscious sitting next to a celebrity.

The door to the bathroom opens and you glance up in the mirror.

There he was. Smiling. Comedically tip toeing into the bathroom, locking the door while you stand there stunned.

“What are you-“ His hands are on your waist in a flash, and his soft lips press against yours, sweetly, gently. His hands go into your hair and a sigh escapes you, you almost fall backwards but he wraps his arms around your waist tighter, holding you to him. Your hands go to his chest, and you gently push him back, your lips falling away from each other with a smack. Your eyes dart back and forth from his eyes to his lips and he’s grinning at you.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t wait any longer.” He tells you and you still cannot find words.

He was a good kisser.

Maybe you could show him your story, but that could wait. You wanted to kiss him again, so you did. His tongue glides into your mouth and you groan, pushing your body against his, bumping into the wall, almost falling over the trash can. His hands find your thigh and squeeze gently, lifting you up delicately and your head slams against the automatic paper towel dispenser.

“Ow!” You laugh loudly as the paper towels come out behind you, vroooooom.

“Oh shit I’m sorry!” He pulls away from your lips quickly and holds your head. You laugh, holding his face and kissing him again. He smiles against your lips, his hand grips your waist and you sigh, moving your hands over his back, down past his ass and you pull his waist flush against you. He groans against your mouth, and lifts you on the bathroom counter. You didn’t care how gross this counter probably was, you just wanted to be close to him. He pushes himself between your legs and you could feel his hardness through his jeans. His lips find your throat and you gasp when he gently bites on your sensitive skin. His hand glides up your soft skin, over your bra and your nipple hardens as his palm grazes over your breast.

“Mmm…we should…stop…” You whisper against his neck.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispers, his tongue flicks out over the vein at your throat and you moan, clawing at his back.

“No…but…not here…somewhere else.” You gasp.

He pulls away from you and smiles sweetly, kissing you again and helps you down from the counter. You unlock the door, surprised to see that no one was waiting to kick you guys out and as you exit the bathroom he takes your arm and pulls you to him, kissing you deeply. Your back hits the wall and you smile against his lips, his hands fisting through your hair.

“Yeah, get it girl!” A woman says as she makes her way to the bathroom and the two of you pull away laughing. You take his hand and take him to the outside patio, you patted yourself down to make sure your phone and wallet was still in your jeans. You find a vacant picnic table and sit on top of it, shaking the nerves out of your hands as you stare up at him. He smiles, his dimples showing and you blush.

His hand cups your face and you lean into it, he kisses your lips softly and sits down on the bench beneath you. You smile, opening your phone and go to your word document app. He lights up a cigarette and you cringe, holding the phone towards him.

His eyes light up. “Is this it?” And you nod. He giggles, his eyes scanning the first few paragraphs. “Wow, you’re a really good writer…oh…” he meets your eyes, his wide and playful. You blush looking away from him and he laughs, his hand gently squeezes your knee. “This is…horny.” His hand squeezes your thigh and you have to suppress a moan that is about to escape.

“He puts his mouth on your…whoa…whoaaaaa…” he meets your eyes again, his face is flushed. “It’s hot, is it hot? I’m sweating. If I read anymore I’m gonna take you on this table.” He hands the phone back to you and you giggle, covering your face with his hands. He stands over you, the cigarette dangling from his lips. You take it from him, inhale on it, and pull his face towards yours.

“Breathe in.” You tell him, as you exhale and the smoke comes out, your lips barely graze and he inhales, stepping back a little letting the smoke glide out of his lungs.

He blushes and smirks at you. “That was in there wasn’t it?”

You nod, biting your lip, handing him the cigarette. He smiles large, snuffing the cigarette out in the ashtray. He moves towards you, curling a piece of hair behind your ear. “You wanna get out of here?”

You stare into his eyes and nod. He grins, and as you’re about to open your Uber app he puts his hand over yours. “No need, I have a driver.” He nods to the back parking lot and you see a black livery car with a driver in the front seat. “Just tell me where to go.”

So, you tell him the direction to your house. You had snuggled up against his chest on the car ride, his hand softly rubs your shoulder and you pull up in front of your apartment building. He tells the driver to head back to the hotel and will call when he needs to get picked up. He follows you up the stairs to the second floor and you turn on your lights. You shut and lock the door, blushing again.

“Why do you keep blushing?” He teases, gently cupping your cheek.

“Because you’re in my apartment and have been kissing me all night.” You sigh. “And I’m confused on why out of all the beautiful women in the bar, you sought me out.”

“Well, none of those other beautiful women could sing Bohemian Rhapsody like you did.”

You roll your eyes. “If you were ten minutes earlier you would’ve seen my rendition of You Oughta Know.”

He laughs. “Now that would’ve made me beg for you.”

You’re not even all the way into your apartment before he’s kissing you. He practically drags you blindly into the living room and into the wall. He pushes his body against yours, kissing you deeply, his hands going over your belly and up your shirt. You gasp, gripping onto his forearms as he kisses down your chest, pulling your shirt over your head. His lips glide down your stomach until his on his knees, licking just above the button of your jeans and he pops the button. He gazes up at you, and your head falls back against the wall as he pulls your jeans down, and you step out of them. He grips your thighs, kissing them softly and his hands caress your backside. He pulls down your underwear and your entire body trembles, and you groan as his mouth goes on you like he was starving. You grip at his hair as he feasts on you, still pinching yourself because there was no way this was real and that he was doing this to you in your apartment.

His fingers glide inside you as he continues his feast, and you moan loudly, your body almost sliding down the wall but he holds you up with his free hand. He tells you to come in his mouth and your entire body reacts to his voice and how he curls his fingers deeper inside you. You tense up and you scream in pleasure loudly, holding onto the wall for support as you clench around his fingers and he moans against you. He pulls his fingers out of you and glides back up your body, kissing you passionately. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lifts you, you direct him to your bedroom and pushes open the door with his foot and he falls backwards on the bed, taking you with him. His hands move up your back as he kisses you and unhooks your bra, it falls down your arms and you toss it to the ground, straddling him and he bites back a moan as you scoot yourself back, pulling off his jeans. He sits up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head and you run your hand over his slightly toned tummy, crashing your lips against his. You couldn’t wait any longer for this, you end up pulling him out of the hole from his boxer briefs and you immediately lower yourself down on him.

A broken moan escapes you as he fills you up and his head falls back against the pillows. You rock your hips against him, your body trembles as his lips catch your nipple in his mouth and he gently bites down, you gasp loudly.

“Do you want me to beg?” He groans and you whimper as you rock your hips faster. You moan, a soft laugh escaping you and you nod. You move off of him, moving up his body like a snake and you kiss him deeply. You take his hands, holding both of them above his head, reaching down to take the belt you had on your jeans. His eyes light up and he giggles.

“Oh, we’re doing this.” He says with a chuckle, biting his lower lip.

“You’re an actor.” You smirk, wrapping the belt around his wrists and attached it to the bars on your headboard. “Act.”

“What if I’m not acting?” He clasps his hands together in the restraint.

You smirk, gazing down at him. “Even better.” You meet his soft lips, straddling him, and you could already tell he was getting frustrated because he couldn’t touch you. Your hand glides down his abdomen, over his hips and over his length. His lips buck and his eyes flutter close, a soft sigh escaping him.

You kiss his chest gently, running your tongue over his nipple and he groans. You meet his lips again, grinding your hips against his and reach down to touch him, you grip him hard and then stop.

“Please.” He whispers, almost whining.

“Please what?” You ask, smiling against his cheek, taking his jaw in your hand, turning his head to look at you and a seductive laugh comes out of his mouth with your forcefulness.

“Keep touching me.” He says, moving his face to kiss your lips. “I’m begging you.”

You grin, wrapping your hand around his length and fist him slowly. You lean down to kiss his neck and he moans as your hand picks up speed and his body is arching. “Let me fuck you.” He groans, struggling again. You meet his eyes, gently kissing him as your other hand reaches up to untie the belt from the headboard. His hands come down so fast, the belt goes flying and he’s taking your face in his hands, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he forces himself on top of you. He hooks your leg around his waist and pushing himself inside you hard. You moan loudly as he rolls his hips, the sensation of his speed and his pelvis grinding against you was causing you to feel so many different things at once. His noises were loud and so were yours, beautiful harmonies of two feral beings just needing to feel something.

Your orgasm was approaching fast and he could feel it too, so he slows down. Rocking into you slowly, gently, his lips soft against yours. His hands gently go through your hair and you didn’t know what was hotter: him taking his time with you or how animalistic he was moments ago. A whimper escapes you as you feel your orgasm approach, his breath was hot against your lips as your head falls back, and you’re holding onto his back as you come, this orgasm so much more powerful than the last one and he comes soon after you. His sounds deep, raspy, beautiful.

He lays with his head on your chest, catching his breath and you run your fingers over his hair. He looks up at you, cheekily grinning. “Now, that was a smut story.” He laughs loudly as you giggle, pushing him off of you and he falls to the floor with a thud. His head pops up as he looks at you, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Now it’s your turn to beg.”

the end

#joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #Eddie Munson

215 notes · View notes

obsessedwrhys · 3 months

Note

Hey so how do you think rise donnie would deal with a magical crush who is very chill with his tech and magic ramblings. He is in the room when April asks magival crush “is he bothering you? He can be a bit insufferable sometimes. He can’t just let things go and just accept magic as is”. And crush is like “oh. I don’t mind it. I mean, everyone thought rainbows were magical. They still are, but now you know how they work. I kind of like watching his big head try and figure this stuff out”?

A LOVE BEYOND LOGIC

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ just lots of fluff and flirting (I went overboard with the flirting), reader does get hurt but it's just minor, used of (Y/N) but only once, I hope this is a good read ☹, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★

It was another normal Tuesday for everybody in the lair, like always, you found yourself sunk into the bean bag your best friend plus boyfriend, Donnie, personally installed in his lab just for you. Well how he manages to become your boyfriend is a different story.

It all happened so fast, you were both blabbered about magic and science and suddenly he's pouring his heart out for you. What's more surprising is that this ain't exactly your home realm. You're pretty lucky enough to have score yourself a bunch of friendly people willing to let you stay at their place, not to mention be fine with your whole magical fiesta.

Anyways, you were concentrating on the game in your phone until you hear Donnie let out a frustrated groan. Curious, you looked to see him struggling with what seemed to be his next hopeful project. It's just not looking too hopeful right now.

"You okay?" You asked and his gaze darts towards you. He waves his hand dismissively.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I must have gotten the formula wrong" He said and at the same time, he walked over to the other table to check on his notes. You put your phone away before getting up to approach him.

"Can I help?" You asked.

You then stood beside him, your eyes examining how his hands are placed at both sides of the notebook as he has his head focused at it in the middle. His brows were slightly furrowed from trying to figure out what went wrong. Even with the stress, you can't help but find the concentration on his face somehow making him appear more attractive.

"No... no... I wouldn't wanna trouble you with this burden..." He muttered almost like a whisper since his mind is already preoccupied with focusing.

"Watching you torture yourself with this is already a burden" You joked and he couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"You're right, I'll try my best to figure this out sooner" He shoots you a sweet smile before walking off to the table in the center that has his project on top.

"Maybe after this we can go exploring. You said you wanted to visit the museum right? If we're lucky enough, I can shut down the surveillance so we can go in undetected, it'll be like the place is ours" He said, putting on his safety goggles as he continues on his work. You couldn't help but feel all giddy inside just hearing him remember you telling him that a few days ago.

You clear your throat, calming yourself.

"That'd be awesome. I don't know if you know this but I can detect old magic in artifacts. Connecting with them makes me stronger" You grabbed an unfinished rubix cube from his shelf and began to play with it as you made yourself float. Even with your body levitating a few feet above him, he didn't mind but was more focused on the task at hand.

"Huh... is that why you're so eager to go? To make yourself more powerful?" He said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Not entirely, I did say I wanted to explore it with you" You said and just hearing you say that, he tried to bite back a smile, a sense of pride swelling up in his chest.

"Gaining power and spending time with me? You're awfully greedy. Are all magical beings like this from your realm?" He playfully teased and you couldn't help but let out a humoured scoff.

"Too bad it must just be me" You responded and it made him laugh to himself while shaking his head.

"What else should I be aware of about your powers?" He asks and you hummed as you thought it over.

"Well... my powers get crazy strong when I feel a strong emotion. Whether it be sad or anger. Somehow being overwhelmed can 'cause me to lose control" You said and it automatically caught his interest.

"Lose control?" He repeats while putting on gloves before using the angle grinder on the metal.

"Huh... I can understand why... the heightened emotions you feel can create a swirling vortex of energy that can overwhelm your conscious control, making it easily for you to lose any sense of control over yourself, it's almost inevitable" He asserted like he always does when he's invested with every new discovery about your magical abilities.

"Really? Are you saying that's a bad thing?" You raised an eyebrow as you finally landed beside him, at the same time Donnie stops using the angle grinder and puts it aside. He pulls over his goggles, letting it rest just above his head.

"Not exactly, there are other emotions that can also work... Magic is no different than science. There's always a different formula available to replace the other" He said, twisting some screws onto the machine and once he's done, he turns it on before stepping back to see it on and working.

"And maybe sometimes... different is better" He smiled, satisfied with his success. He then turn to look at you who seemed puzzled, in your hand holds the rubix cube you have yet to finish.

"I'm sort of getting it but what other emotions is there that doesn't involve me turning into a raging monster?"

"There is one... an emotion that makes you feel calm yet overwhelmed at the same time... but you'll have to fall"

"Fall?" You watch as he goes to the other side of the room to grab a handkerchief to wipe his face clean.

"Fall in love... can't be hard right?" He looks at you, his eyes warm like it'll be enough to melt you. The way he stares at you makes it seem as though you're the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. You blush as you let out an awkward chuckle.

"Love? Are you saying that because half of the movies we watch, the main character happens to win in the last minute against the bad guy because of the power of love?" You joked, trying to hide the fact that your heart is beating faster than it would.

"This is purely science. I don't recall any movies using that trope" He says and you couldn't help but tilt your head, your brows raised in disbelief.

"Beauty and the Beast"

"Hey he was cursed by a witch"

"Tangled"

"That was more about cutting her hair"

"Uh Hero? Frozen?!??! Every freaking Christmas movie ever created?!?!!" He stares at you, silent for a second and you can see from his face that he's thinking it over.

".... you had me at Frozen. Ah alright, you're missing the whole point of all of this" He approaches you and you can't help but try to at least avoid the effect he's having on you.

"What I'm trying to prove here is that maybe you can try focusing on that emotion. Maybe it can even save you out of a messy situation one day. Who knows?" He crosses his arms, a confident smirk on his face. You roll your eyes with a smile of your own.

"You and your science talk. I do appreciate it but sometimes it's a wonder you haven't talked my ear off" You joked and it makes him laugh once again.

"Oh please, my voice is not irritating, at least not compared to yours"

"Excuse me??"

Right as you finished talking, April enters. She stops in her tracks as she awkwardly shifts her focus from Donnie's face to yours. Sensing the clear look of annoyance on your face, she decides to step in between in whatever conversation you two are having.

"Hey now, I've been gone for only a few hours and you guys are already trying to tear each other down" She laughs half heartedly. Clearly sensing the shift of emotion in the atmosphere, Donnie shrugs as he chooses to walk back to his station.

"Oh well, and uh (Y/N), you should go with April. It's almost evening and you usually eats at this hour. I'll find you later" He says with his back turned to you. Not really caring much about it, you also shrug before turning the other way.

"I was gonna go eat anyways" You said but deep inside you could feel that flutter of emotion again. Without much complain, you decided to go to the kitchen to April, the rubix cube still in your hand.

You're seated at the chair and toying around with the cube that you failed to acknowledge the concern look on April's face. She hands you your plate of food before taking her seat beside you. It was when you both started eating that you finally notice. But before you can ask, she beats you to it.

"Are you okay? I saw your face back there and it seemed like you guys were arguing. Is Donnie bothering you again? I know how far he can go trying to experiment on you" She said and her words nearly caught you off guard. You're aware of her concern about your safety but you weren't sure she would be THIS concern. Especially directing it towards Donnie.

"Wait no we weren't arguing just now. He just said some stupid comeback at my joke. Besides, what makes you think he'd do that?" You asked and she turns to look at you as if your question was a dumb one.

"Um, hello? He's Donatello. The 'Magic is not a real thing' Donatello... Did you forget how he was trying to have you join his crazy experiments when you first got here??" She said and you couldn't help but laugh a bit from how unreal the situation you're in.

"Okay first of all, he doesn't hate magic. He's just amazed about it you know? It's like giving a baby their first taste of sweet candy"

"You're comparing him to a baby now?"

"It was just a metaphor"

"Fineeee!! But how is he okay with letting you hang around in his lab? Doesn't magic and science not work together?"

"Oof if that was the case then people would think that thunder and lightning was a sign of God's fury from above"

"Okaaay... you have a point but... why do you like hanging around in his lab? It doesn't seem to be your cup of tea" You look at her and you see a teasing grin on her face.

Oh boy.

"His lair is... quiet... it's comforting"

"Ah yes... the sound of him drilling for hours is very relaxing. Not to mention the loud noises of his hammer! Wh-What a paradise!!" She says while ending up laughing at her own sarcasm. You let out a defeafed sigh.

"Okay maybe I happen to enjoy watching him work. It's exciting!! Do you see the way he puts things together?" You said with pride that you failed to notice the smile on your face.

"Uh huh" She looks at you and its clear that she doesn't buy it one bit.

Minutes later after you both are done eating and chatting about your everyday lives, you found your way back into the lab.

As expected, you found Donnie in his chair and seemingly working on his next project. Seeing how busy he looks, you decided to just go back to your place on the bean bag... but the sound of your footsteps caught his attention. His eyes slightly perked up as he swung around in his chair to look at you.

"You're back so quick...?" He said, his tone coming off surprised.

"Yeah... why? Do you need some alone time?" You took a step back and he quickly got to his feet like he's trying to stop you.

"That's not what I meant... uh I need to ask you an offer" He then leaned his back against the table and from the way his eyes is struggling to maintain eye contact with you, you could tell it wasn't anything good.

"Do you mind if you could used your powers to give my machine a boost? I need to make sure if it's resistant from getting fried easily" He looks at you, his gaze making him appear hopeful that you'll be fine with that... and honestly why wouldn't you be?

"Sure, just tell me how much is too much" You walk over to the machine displayed on the center and he mirrors your action. You stand side by side as you gently place your hand on top of the core.

"How about we start with something small and we'll work our way up from there?" He suggests which you nodded in agreement.

Just like that, you activated your powers and at the same time made sure you weren't using too much of it. In relief the machine didn't blow up but was running just fine. Almost at the same time, You and Donnie exchanged thankful smiles when turning to look at one another. With the first stage cleared, you decided to up the heat a bit.

"ZZZzzzz" The machine buzzes a bit from the increased intensity of your powers but surprisingly it's still intact and working right.

"Alright... moment of truth..." You grit your teeth anxiously... then activated the full force of your powers.

⌁KRRRRK⌁

Almost like a flash, you could feel surges of electricity coursing through your vines so due to your instincts you quickly pulled your hand away cause of the pain. And for the machine it was now overloading but somehow still functioning. Before you could even do anything, Donnie is already by your side with a med kit in hand.

"Are you okay? I know you're an enhanced being but still that must have hurt" He places the kit on the table and opened it to take out anything you needed.

"Just a small wound" You said, showing him the tiny burn on your pinky. Instantly he's already treating it with the petroleum jelly.

You don't say anything but choose to watch him tend to your minor injury. From his body language you could tell that he was very focused on not hurting you in the slightest. Soon after he wraps a clean bandage loosely around your pinky, he looks at you with a wave of warmth on his face. How he looks at you so softly is making your heart beat like it did not long ago.

"So... are you still up for our visit to the musuem?" He asks and you chuckle in disbelief.

"Seriously? You're not gonna even explain why you invented this thing in the first place? Not after my effort of helping you out?"

"Oh that? I wanted to surprise you but since you asked, this is gonna be our one way ticket to shutting the surveillance off. Just stick this bad boy into the breaker and the cameras are out" He picks it up and effortlessly puts it into the back of the truck, you follow him not far behind.

"You built all that just to spend one night with me at the musuem?" You tilt your head and he freezes in place, his back facing you as he stands at the back of the van.

"Uh... yeah... why not?" He rubs his neck awkwardly. From that you could tell that you've somehow made him flustered. You laugh and the sound of you laughing made him turn around out of curiosity.

"What are you laughing about?" He said despite the movements of his lips beginning to form a grin.

"Nothing nothing..." You look at him, a smile still present on your face but soon you show him your pinky, the same one he helped bandage it up for you.

"Kiss it to make it better?" You said with your hardest attempt of making puppy dog eyes. He shakes his slightly out of amusement.

"Only because you asked" He takes a few steps forward and carefully holds your arm by the wrist before guiding it towards his lips. He kisses it delicately and while he does so, his eyes are remained locked on yours. The intensity of his gaze made you blush that you couldn't help but look away.

"There... is my baby done whining now?" He said with his hands now intertwined with yours. You roll your eyes as you let him pull you into his embrace.

"Yeah yeah... let's go to the musuem now smarty pants" He chuckles at your response with his arms wrapped securely around you, his fingers tracing gently down your spine.

"Should we watch a movie after we get back?"

"Frozen?"

"Perfect"

#GAAAAAAAAA #WHERE THE HELL CAN I WATCH THE SHOW FOR FREE #tmnt #fluff #x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #donnie tmnt

181 notes · View notes

surielstea · 7 months

Text

Strings Attached

Based on this request.

Pairing: Helion x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader has had a crush on Helion for awhile now but feels inadequate when compared to the partners he brings to bed.

Warnings: fluff | Suggestive | Slight angst

3.3k words

The giggling in the room next to mine has me fighting back from hurling my guts out.

Helion was with yet another female tonight— perhaps multiple based on the sound emitting through the walls. Some part of me felt anger, everyone who was interested in the male seemed to get the chance to roll in the sheets with the High Lord while I sat in my room alone, trying to ignore the obnoxious thudding of the headboard against the connecting wall.

I put a sound shield over his room for him, he seemed to forget half the time which left me restless and annoyed.

Finally, at peace with the quiet, I release a soft sigh and my head comes down onto my pillow. The brunette that he led into his room tonight was particularly gorgeous, with long dark locks and beautiful caramel-colored skin. She was from the Summer court, cousin to the Day court. She looked like she'd been bathed in the sun, like not a single cloud had ever settled over her.

I was from the night court.

Born in the hewn city and fleeing the court entirely when Amarantha was defeated after those long years Under the Mountain.

It was noticeable I didn't belong in this court, this palace, the libraries, or the shops. I'd get looks of all sorts from strangers or other court members who thought it best for me to return to where I came from.

Helion made me his second in command after a few years of serving as his emissary. I've been with him for nearly a decade now and my feelings towards the high lord have yet to fizzle away. He's my best friend, yet I couldn't help imagining something more than just being on the sidelines, I wanted to be looked at the way he gazed at potential partners, wanted to be touched, and loved the way the females rave about as they're leaving the palace.

In between thoughts I manage to slip into a gentle sleep, a light slumber that I could easily be startled from. The large bed felt empty like I was drowning in it, like I needed someone next to me to make sure I didn't fall through the mattress.

________

I was standing at my workbench, bright light shining down onto my most recent invention. I peered through my magnifying glass at the inner mechanics, making sure all the gears shifted with each other as they spun. I've been fiddling with the small device for a while now but haven't been able to get it just right. "Let's try this again," I mumble before pressing the button atop the small cube. It makes a quiet beep and my brows shoot up. "Testing," I say into the microphone of the cube.

"You're so smart, starlight." A familiar voice makes me jump and I whirl around to face the High Lord. "You'd make the perfect high lady for this place." He hums and I flush, taking my eyes away from the handsome male and back to my invention. He walks over to me, the warmth of his skin radiating onto me. "What is it?" He tilts his head as he peers over my shoulder.

"A recording device," I say, glancing at him— which I realize was a bad idea because, Cauldron, he was so close. "If it works, we'll be able to start recording audio to put in our libraries for people who can't read," I explain and a soft smile curves his full lips.

"Genius." He hums. "It's not finished yet." I wave him off and press the button atop the recording device and set it down.

"Did you need something?" I turned to him fully, he wasn't wearing his crown or any golden jewelry, just glowing dark skin contrasted with his clean white robe. "I can't pester my favorite emissary?" He arches a brow, and my heartbeat quickens.

"I'm your only emissary." I remind him, cleaning up my workspace as he toys with a pair of miniature tweezers, his calloused hands seemingly too large to even hold the tool. "That doesn't mean you can't be my favorite." He mumbles, concentrating on picking up an even smaller screw from the desk with the tweezers.

"Helion," I pluck the tool from his hands and he pouts dramatically at me. "I was only going to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner, but you seem busy." He knocks on the wood as a farewell and takes a few steps away. "Wait," I look to him. "I could eat." I shrug and a wide smile spreads over his sharp features. "Follow me then."

Helion leads me down the halls of the palace, I still marveled at the beauty of this place despite living here for nearly a decade now. The high ceilings held up by large pillars, the floor-to-ceiling windows putting the Court outside on display in a decoration of its own, the crystal clear lake that spreads on the right side of the residence reflects the moonlight right onto the white palace, making it reflect and shimmer like a sun.

"Amilia?" Helion calls as we enter the long dining hall lit by golden chandeliers and tall, skinny candles. "Yes, my lord?" A kitchen maid scuffs into the room with bright green eyes and large voluminous curls. "I have a guest joining me for dinner, we'll need the table set for three." He informs and the maid bows her head with a soft smile. "Right away Lord Helion." She turns on her heel and shuffles towards the kitchen. "Thank you!" The male hums as she disappears behind the swinging doors.

"Three plates?" I ask curiously, coming up to his side. "Not just us?" I say and he looks at me with raised brows. "I have another courtier coming to meet with me from the Dawn court, but I'd be happy to cancel so it's just us." He offers and I shake my head, hair swishing with the movement. "That's alright, I won't disrupt your schedule." I brushed him off, even if a buried part of me felt disappointed. It's been some time since I had some alone time with Helion, he always seemed to be busy as High Lord— or spell cleaver.

I walked over to the table and took up the seat I always sat in, directly beside the head of the table, where Helion planted himself. A maid came over and poured both of us glasses of white wine. I thank her and she nods before skittering away.

The doors to the dining hall open and both Helion and I look up to spot a butler accompanying a gorgeous female clad in lilac and rose-colored robes that draped over her full frame in long sweeping motions. Her deep brown hair was combed up into an intricate style, and the golden bangles at her wrists clanked against each other as she walked in like she owned the place. "Lady Basu." Helion stands with a polite tone. "Please, my lord; call me Imara." She begs of him in a delicate voice. Is she the courtier from Dawn?

"Then you can call me Helion." The Lord gives her a seductive smile. I was going to need more wine.

Dinner was utterly delicious if it weren't for my need to hold back gags every time the two in front of me obnoxiously flirted, I watched as she noticeably stared at him while wrapping her perfect lips around her fork. They weren't even discussing anything pertaining to the courts, perhaps I was blinded by jealousy but what was the point of this female being here if she wasn't going to mention where her court lies with alliances?

"Amilia?" I call the maid, neither of them notice but the female shuffles over to me with an inquisitive expression. "Can I have some more wine?" I ask her. She nods her head and pours the pitcher until my glass is full again. "You know what, I think I'll just take this." I reach for the decanter and her brows raise slightly but she allows me to have the pitcher before I put it down onto the table. Helion looks at me with creased brows but I don't say anything.

"Are you enjoying the food Imara?" The high lord hums. "I've had better things in my mouth." She teased and I nearly choked. "Is that right?" Helion's reply only makes me drink deeper from the goblet, chugging down the rest of the liquid until I'm refilling the glass again.

The flirting grows so insufferable that I have to take a deep breath to control myself from yelling at them to keep it in their pants or take it to the bedroom. So instead I stand up, grabbing my wine glass, my chair loudly scraping against the floor.

"You okay?" Helion looks to me concerned. "Fine, just tired." I brush him off. "I think I might turn in early," I add and he only nods. "Sweet dreams, starlight." He hums. "Good to meet you Imari," I give her a wave. "You as well." She smiles at me even though she's been glaring at me all meal like I was a threat, as if Helion would ever choose me over some drop-dead gorgeous female offering herself so openly to him.

Helion's fingers intertwined with mine and I look at him curiously, his warm hand somehow heating the entirety of my body right down to my very bones. "Get good rest, alright?" He smiles sadly and I get the feeling that he wasn't originally going to say that, that he’s holding back.

"I should be the one telling you that." I joke as I drop his hand but he doesn't laugh, instead, he looks at me with something tender and wanting, that gaze that makes butterflies awaken in my stomach. I ignore it, giving him a nod before spinning on my heel and walking towards the doors, thanking the cooks and maids on my way out without another word.

______

My hangover was pounding into my skull as I stood at the kitchen counter, peeling an orange as my negligent breakfast. Luckily the morning was quiet, the bird’s song flowing in through the open windows, goldfinches perched on the aspen trees outside.

I hum along to the familiar tune with a gentle smile at the tranquility of it, everything going so smoothly until the smell of ginger and honey floats into the room and I know Helion has entered.

"Starlight," He grins widely as he approaches, his hands behind his back like he's hiding something. I narrow my eyes at him skeptically, wondering what it was he kept tucked away from my vision. "How are you so awake?" I sighed with a slow blink. "It's daytime," He looks to the window. "Should I not be awake?" He arches a brow. I shake my head and return to peeling the rind from my fruit.

"Have a good night?" I tilt my head. "Eh," He shrugs and I scoff, a small smile forming on my lips at his dissatisfaction, something like precedence blooming in my chest.

"I have something for you." He bounces slightly on his heels and I look at him unamused, my migraine slowly fizzling away as he gazes at me. "Do you now?" I tilt my head and he nods, pulling his hands from behind his back and revealing a small black box meant for jewelry. "I felt bad last night, you seemed upset so I got you these at the markets this morning." He explains before cracking open the lid of the velvet box and revealing a stunning pair of earrings. A clear sunstone gem framed by gold plates, the stone dangling from a golden clasp.

My brows raised as I looked between him and the expensive gift. "Helion I can't take this," I shake my head. "Sure you can." He urges me. "You can’t just give me things because I'm the slightest bit upset." I sigh, taking the box from him. "Sure I can." He reiterates and a small smile forms over my features. "Thank you," I say, taking the earrings out of their box right then and there before sliding them into my earlobes.

He smiles and tucks my hair behind my pointed ears. The male grins cheekily and I look at him, with stained cheeks. "What?" I cross my arms over my chest. "You're the most beautiful female I've ever seen." He states proudly. I chuckle and tear my gaze away from him, his expression falls. "I'm serious, you are." He nods his head and I only shake my head and continue to peel the tangerine.

"No, I am not." I toss the rind in the trash, trying to ignore the fact that the air in the room has gotten noticeably thicker. "Do you think I'd lie about such things?" He seems genuine which only makes me want to laugh more.

"You lie to me all the time." I shrug and he looks at me like I've gone crazy. "Nonsense, name a time." He commands and I roll my eyes. "Just yesterday you told me I'd make the perfect high lady for the day court." I remind and he twists his lips to the side. "That doesn't sound like me." He shakes his head. I deadpan at him before removing the small invention I've been working on from the pocket of my dress and pressing the button on the bottom.

"Testing," My voice emits from it, louder than planned and all too close to the microphone. "You're so smart starlight," another voice sounds from the speakers of the cube. "You'd make the perfect high lady for this place." It quoted and I glared at him before turning off the invention and putting it back into my pocket. "It works!" He says excitedly and I glare at him.

"Alright fine, so I did say that but still; I didn't lie." He argues and I huff out a grumble of curses. "I'm a truthful male." He drones as I return to picking the spongey white excess along with the fruit of my orange. "No, you're a flirt," I grumble. "Can't I be both?" He shrugs and I shake my head. "No, not if you're telling me I'm the most beautiful girl you've ever seen whilst bedding females ten times prettier than me." I defend and his jaw falls slack, slightly taken aback at my prepared remark. "But they're not prettier than you." He admits and I avoid his gaze that seemed to be analyzing every move I made.

"Stop lying." I grit out and he releases a sigh, his arms coming to either side of my waist, trapping me between his muscular frame and the counter.

"I'm not. You're out of my league." He says breathlessly as if he couldn't believe it. I turn to look at him, my brows pulled tensely. "Then why can't I be one of them?" I utter and he blinks. "One of what?" He asks, his dark brows quirking together. "One of the females you take to bed, if I'm. So beautiful then why haven't you shown it?"

The look on his face was pure shock, his ears perked up at the sound of vulnerability coming from me. I begin to grow embarrassed at what I just confessed.

"Starlight," He sighs, looking down at me with remorseful eyes. "Those partners mean nothing, there's no emotion. I'm simply admiring an art piece, there's no strings attached." He explains and I wait for him to tell me whatever art I am isn't good enough.

"I don't want that with you." He confesses and I swore my heart stopped.

I look up at him with tears welling in my eyes. I wasn't ready to confess and didn't have the confrontation skills to tell him how I truly felt. I swallow thickly and nod. "I understand," I mutter, dipping my head down. His large hand comes up to cup my cheek, tilting my head back and forcing my gaze back to his. "I want the strings attached, with you, is what I mean." He explains and I blink a few times to make sure the make that stands in front of me is real.

"What are you saying?" I need clarification, what does that make us, what can I bear to him without showing my soul in its entirety?

"I'm saying that I want you, for a lot longer than just a night." His hand slips from my cheek to curl around the back of my neck, his thumb stroking along my jaw. "Helion," I warn and his eyes are soft, this is real, he wants this as much as I do. "I know it's unprofessional but—" He begins to argue and I lunge upward, slinging my arms over his shoulders and planting my lips onto his.

He stumbles back, his other hand coming to my hips as he immediately kisses me back. I smile against the feel of it. Gods, he tasted like honey. I pull him closer, his chest pressing into mine as I balance on my toes just so I can reach up to him. He hums against my lips before pulling back with a knowing smile. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," I admit and his eyes gleam with pure affection.

"I have some idea." He reassured me before dipping down again and this time taking my mouth entirely, my lower back pressed against the counter behind me, his hands dipped down, sliding along every inch of my body until finding purchase at my thighs and hoisting me up onto the counter, my legs immediately wrapping around his torso as he pried my mouth open with his tongue and I allow him to explore every inch, I've dreamed of this, fantasized of this. Every male I've ever been with never amounted to what could've been with Helion, and now I have it and I was never going to give it up.

My hands go into his hair, dragging through the black locks as he presses his wanting hips into mine. I begin to work at the top of his robes, dipping it off his shoulder. He backs away with a restrained movement. "We can wait." He pants out. "We can go slow," he reassured, staring at me with every ounce of self-discipline he possessed. "I don't want to wait," I shake my head. "I need you now," I add and a smile curves his lips— then a soft gasp releases from his lips, looking at the center of my chest with creased brows.

A sudden sort of devotion overwhelms my body and I look down, spotting a golden string, sprouting from my abdomen and tethering directly to his. "Mate," I mumble, the only thought racing through my head. My body heats at the realization and when he pulls me into a kiss this time it's pure adoration, in every movement he holds utmost love and respect.

"You're my mate," I mumble into his mouth and he nods with a smirk on his lips. "Wait—" I say and he immediately rears back. I turn to look beside me, the freshly peeled orange untouched on its plate. I pick the fruit up and split it into two. "Eat." I hold the tangerine out toward him. His expression turns into something tender and he takes the fruit, taking no time to consume the citrusy fruit, handing me the other half and beckoning me to eat too. I smile and peel one slice off and pop it into my mouth.

A sudden smell of arousal takes over the space and as soon as I swallow down the slice his lips are on mine, his hands pulling me closer, kissing me deeper, harder. He tasted of citrus and that fact fueled every nerve in my body. Mates, we're mated. His tongue enters my mouth again and the mating frenzy seems to take him full throttle. He winnows us into his quarters, carrying me towards his bed.

Something told me we wouldn't be leaving this bedroom for weeks.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glam-targaryen @going-through-shit @fauxdette @impossibelle @amara-moonlight @webecheesy-blog @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogersbarnesxx

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #fanfic #sarah j maas #x reader #request #helion spell cleaver #helion acotar #helion x reader #high lord helion #helion x you #day court #writing #fanfiction #acowar #acosf #suriels tea

346 notes · View notes