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gloomwitchwrites · 1 month

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secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌

Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.

I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst

Word Count: 2.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.

He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.

Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.

It’s bloody fucking brilliant.

Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.

With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.

He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.

They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.

You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.

You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.

Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.

He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But he does. Because why not?

Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.

You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.

Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.

Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.

Your…son.

Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.

He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.

“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.

Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?

The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.

“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.

He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.

It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.

“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.

Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”

John Price

John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.

He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.

Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.

Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.

John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.

He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.

Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.

John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.

If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.

He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,

“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.

Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.

John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.

“You have the wrong number, bud.”

The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”

“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”

John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.

“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.

This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.

And each month is fucking agony.

When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.

But fuck it. He’s here.

Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.

John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.

The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.

“John,” you breathe.

He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.

“Is that—”

“Yours?”

Fuck.

John glances up into your eyes and swallows.

You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.

“It is,” you confirm.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.

But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.

He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.

Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.

But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.

Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.

In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.

It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.

You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.

You are fucking pregnant. With his child.

It’s growing in your belly.

Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.

It’s fucking painful watching you like this.

He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.

But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.

Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.

Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.

He has to play this right.

He has to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”

Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.

The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.

Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.

He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.

That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.

Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.

But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.

Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.

He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.

It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.

Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.

Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.

“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.

Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”

Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”

The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.

Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.

Is that?

No. Can’t be.

His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.

There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.

But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.

You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.

“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.

“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.

You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.

“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.

“Is that?”

“It fucking is.”

“She’s fucking pregnant.”

Johnny swallows. “Aye.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.

But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.

You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.

You’re staring right at Johnny.

And he’s staring back.

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flowersforbucky · 3 months

Text

acquainted

bucky barnes x reader (undercover stripper reader x undercover bodyguard bucky)

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (male and female receiving), vaginal penetration, language, strip club setting, creepy dude being a piece of shit, violence and a brief mention of blood, protective/possessive bucky, reader is afab, no use of y/n, touch her and die trope, Bucky might have a slight lingerie kink... 18+ only!

word count: 3.3k

author's note: wow okay this kind of got away from me. this is probably the filthiest thing i've ever written. felt my heartbeat in my pussy while writing this. hope you enjoy!

The pulsating fuschia and lime green strobe lights illuminating the club had been making your eyes throb for the last three hours. EDM plays so loudly that you're surprised blood doesn't trickle down from your ears. Not to mention the suffocating combination of cheap perfume, body odor, cigars, and booze that permeates the air makes your empty stomach churn.

If you never step foot into another nightclub when this is all over, you'll consider yourself lucky. Not just any nightclub - one of New Orleans’ scummiest strip clubs.

Five goddamn nights of this operation and not a lick of progress.

Your objective was simple - obtain proof that the owner was operating a sex trafficking ring out of the club, and then call for the back-up squad parked a block away. So far, you had not been able to acquire any kind of definitive proof. No hints of anything shady going on behind the scenes, and you had yet to even see the owner make an appearance at any point since the mission began.

Everything seems as above board as a strip club can be.

One last night, you compromised with Fury. One last night and if it went as the last few have, you were done, and he owes you a few days of paid leave for putting you through this.

“If you don't stop picking at your garter belt, it's not going to have any sequins left.” Bucky's low voice murmurs through the communication device placed discreetly in your left ear.

“If you don't stop watching my every movement, you’re not going to have any unbroken toes left,” you threaten lightly, taking a sip of your drink - just a Shirley Temple, to keep up appearances. “Shoes like this could do a lot of damage.” You glance down at the pointy heels of the black velvet stilettos.

“Is that not my job?” he counters. You don't have to look over at where he's standing in the corner of the room to know he's smirking. “To not take my eyes off of you?”

“Then do your job. Watch me. You don't have to make comments on my sequins to do that.”

“Alright, alright,” he concedes. “I'll be over here, admiring your sequins from afar. You won't even know I'm here.” The com line clicks off before you can retort.

Except you absolutely would know that he's here. Just as you have the previous four nights of this mission - painfully aware that he's here, tracking your every movement in the skimpiest outfits you've worn in your life, doing the most provocative dances imaginable, and flirting with men that you wouldn't touch with ten foot long poles in real life, all while he keeps to the sidelines in case something were to go wrong.

Keeps to the sidelines and just watches you. Even when one of the dancers approached him to ask if he'd be interested in a private dance once he's off the clock on the first night on the job.

Even when there's gorgeous, topless women crawling on the stage and all but humping the pole in his direct line of sight.

He isn't here to look out for them, of course. He is here solely to keep you safe if things were to go sideways. But you had assumed you would have caught him sneaking glances at the dozen other women at least once by now.

It's almost your turn to go up on stage. You've performed a solo set every night so far, and you still feel every bit as nervous as you did the first time.

You enjoy dancing, actually. In the comfort of your own room, when listening to music alone. When you go out with friends, occasionally. When you took ballet lessons as a child. This, however, was leagues out of your comfort zone.

“The creep from a couple nights ago is back,” Bucky's voice is a strained whisper in your ear.

“Gonna have to narrow it down a bit for me, Barnes. You could be referring to at least half of the men in here right now.”

“Sitting in front of the stage, to the left,” he mumbles back. “He's wearing a red wife-beater–”

“See him,” you interrupt, your eyes zeroing in on the short, stout, beady-eyed fuck who had been thrown out of the club night before last. One of the other security guards on duty chucked him out when he repeatedly got too handsy with one of the girls who had been giving him a lap dance.

“Fantastic,” you huff under your breath, as you finish touching up your lipgloss and reapplying the iridescent baby pink body glitter across your chest. “Just in time for my dance.”

You get up from your seat at the bar and adjust your lace bustier and thong as the announcer calls your stage name.

“He won't lay a finger on you,” Bucky assures you as you're walking up the steps of the platform.

There's a weak round of applause and a few whistles as you take your place on the center of the small stage. You give a vague nod in the direction of the DJ’s booth to indicate you're ready for your song to begin.

An upbeat but sensuous synth-pop song pours out of the speakers throughout the room and you begin to sway your hips.

You're hyper-aware of the fact that you can see Bucky making his way closer to you, away from his position in the back of the room. He settles when he's just a few tables behind the man in the red wife-beater.

There's an eruption of butterflies in the pit of your belly at how close he is. Each night prior to this, he has kept to lingering around the exits and the far wall towards the back of the club. Now, he's close enough that you can actually see his eyes following every languid movement that your body makes around the pole.

“Take your fucking top off!” a grating voice bellows from the audience. “We want to see your tits.”

You don't have to look to know who the voice belongs to. You decide to ignore him, hoping he would stop if you didn't give him any attention. You go to wrap your thighs around the pole again, preparing to spin–

“Did you not fucking hear me?” he shouts even louder this time, audible to everyone over the roaring music. “I said take your fucking–”

A flash of movement in your peripheral vision causes you to freeze around the pole. You turn your full attention to the ruckus, just in time to see Bucky fisting the man's greasy, shoulder length hair and pulling his head back. The music comes to an abrupt pause.

“You don't fucking talk to her like that,” Bucky snarls. “In fact, you don't talk to her at all, you don't look at her, you don't even breathe the same fucking air as her.”

The man is thrashing around, trying and failing miserably to get out of Bucky's grasp.

“Let me go you fucking–”

He doesn't get to finish his sentence before Bucky snaps the man's head forward, sending his face crashing into the granite tabletop.

The instantaneous pool of blood that contrasts so starkly against the white stone snaps you out of your fear-stricken trance.

Bucky pulls his head back up, forcing the man to look up at him.

“It's not my fault she refuses to show off those perfect–”

You all but jump off the stage - miraculously not breaking an ankle in the six inch heels - and rush over to where Bucky still has the man's hair yanked into his fist.

Just as Bucky is beginning to shove the man's head downwards again, you place both of your hands on his chest, gently but effectively shoving him backwards. He immediately releases his grip on the man as the other few security guards on duty arrive to detain the pervert.

“Hey, hey,” you place your hands on his biceps, trying to turn his attention to you and away from the man who he's still glaring after, as he's hauled off by security. “I'm fine, yeah? Everything is fine,” you try to assure him, though you're not sure your shaky voice sounds very convincing. “He's just a creepy, entitled asshole.”

Noticing that Bucky is shaking beneath your touch, you rub your hands up and down his arms in hopes of calming him down.

He finally meets your gaze. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares at you as he takes a few deep breaths.

“Go get dressed,” he orders you calmly after a moment. “I’m getting you the fuck out of here.” You want to leave too badly to even think about objecting.

You make a beeline for the changing room, where you throw on a sweater and force your pants over your heels, not even bothering to change out of the lingerie and stilettos.

Bucky's waiting for you right outside the door as you sling your duffel bag across your shoulder.

“How mad do you think Fury will be that we are abandoning our positions?” you ask in a hushed tone as Bucky ushers you through the club, his metal arm wrapped around your waist.

“Not as mad as I am that he's had you doing this bullshit for no reason for almost a week now.”

You and Bucky exit the club as quickly as possible, ignoring the curious and confused stares of the other dancers and security guards. He guides you down the block, then through an alleyway where his motorcycle is parked in a heavy silence - other than the obnoxious clanking of your heels against the pavement.

Bucky straddles one leg over the seat of the bike, taking his place in the driver's position and then hands you the helmet.

“Wait,” you pause before putting it over your head. “I'm starving.” Your stomach growls, as if on cue. “Can we stop and get some take-out?”

He looks at you incredulously. “I just shattered that guy's nose and likely severely concussed him and then just dipped. Our cover is essentially blown, don't you think we should get back to the motel room and lay low until the morning?”

“There's a Chinese place open late just a few blocks from the motel–”

“If I say yes will you put on the helmet and get on the bike?”

Taking that as a win, you slide the helmet over your head and hop on behind him. You wrap your arms securely around his midsection in a tight hug and he takes off down Bourbon Street.

You spend the drive trying to ignore the thought that of all the times you've ridden on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, you don't remember him ever feeling so tense beneath your touch.

Half an hour later, you're lounging on the rickety motel bed, stuffing your face full of sweet and sour chicken and vegetable fried rice while Bucky fills Sam in on what happened over the phone.

He sits in one of the small chairs at the singular table in the corner of the room, his posture rigid. He answers all of Sam's questions with clipped, one-word responses as he massages his temple between his thumb and forefinger.

He hangs up the phone, refusing to meet your gaze. Instead, he pretends to be interested in the episode of Family Guy playing on the old motel TV.

“Your egg rolls are going to get soggy,” you tell him, pushing the to-go box across the mattress towards him.

“I don't have an appetite right now,” he says, picking up the box of food as he stands. You grab his bicep in your hand as he begins to walk past where you're sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” you say, stopping him. “Everything's okay. Really. Don't let that guy get to you–”

“A little late for that, don't you think?” He snaps, pulling his arm from your grasp. You sit back, too stunned by his reaction to know how to respond. You just stare after him as he crams his take-out box into the motel room's mini fridge.

“I shouldn't have reacted so harshly,” he says after a moment, still facing away from you. “I couldn't stop myself. He spoke to you that way, and I could have killed him and not thought twice about it. Probably would have if you hadn't intervened.”

He turns back to you. You're frozen in place.

“Do you know what that's like?” He asks, taking a step closer to you. “To feel like you aren't in control of your own body? To be so irrationally protective of someone that you'd kill for them without a second thought?”

You feel like all air has been stripped from your lungs. He's just inches away, staring down at you from where you sit on the edge of the mattress. The way he's looking at you makes your skin feel like it's on fire.

“Because that's what you do to me. That's how you make me feel.”

Heat pools between your legs.

“Come here,” you say - it sounds more like a question than a command.

He closes what little distance is left between the two of you, and pulls you up from the mattress by the tops of your arms so that your body is flush against his.

His mouth hovers over yours - not quite making contact, though you can feel his breath fan across your skin.

He takes his flesh hand and cups the side of your face with it, his thumb trailing across your bottom lip. His metal hand wanders down your back until it reaches the curve of your ass - grasping your cheek in a firm hold and squeezing until his touch borders between pleasure and pain.

“This is what I wanted to do to you every time I saw a man so much as glance in your direction in that club,” he whispers against your mouth. “I thought about bending you over the stage and making them watch me take you right then and there, but they didn't deserve to see that.”

“They aren't here to see us now,” you murmur as you bring your hand to cup the noticeable bulge of his jeans, eliciting a hiss from him. “So what are you going to do now?”

There's a dark grin spread across his face. He pushes you, softly but effectively, back down on the bed. You scout back a few inches on the mattress, and then bring one of your feet up to remove the stiletto heels that you'd completely forgotten to take off upon returning to the motel with your haul of Chinese food.

“Oh, no,” Bucky laughs lowly. “I want you to keep those on. I've grown to like those quite a bit.”

Your cheeks warm in both arousal and bashfulness. You begin to push your pants down your thighs as Bucky kneels on the ground and helps you maneuver the fabric around your shoes. The sweater that you threw over your bustier goes next.

You're left in the lingerie set that you wore at the club.

“Call me jealous,” Bucky sighs as he begins trailing sloppy kisses up the insides of your thighs. “Call me possessive, call me crazy..”

You lay back down against the scratchy comforter as Bucky gets closer and closer to where you're aching to have him the most.

“But I don't want anyone seeing you like this but me.”

He pulls the already soaked lace material of your thong to the side, exposing your cunt.

He licks up your center torturously slow, causing you to let out a sharp exhale. He repeats the motion, and then locks his lips around your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, fisting your fingers through the short brunet strands.

He eats you until you're a mewling and squirming mess beneath him.

You come hard, clenching your thighs around his head and riding his face through your orgasm.

“Stand up,” you instruct him as soon as you can think semi-clearly.

He obeys without any hesitation. The warm glow of the singular lamp in the motel room highlights the way your slick coats the lower half of his face.

You get up on your hands and knees before him and he lets out an audible groan at the sight in front of him. He bends down enough to kiss you - cupping your face in both of his hands and tipping your head up to give him a better angle to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moan into the kiss - the ache between your thighs reappearing already.

He removes his hands from your face, unbuttoning his pants while still kissing you.

You pull away to help free his cock from the confines of his boxers. Your mouth waters at what's directly in front of you. He's impressively long and girthy, with a thick vein running up the side.

You pump him a few times in your hand, swirling your tongue around the pre-cum dripping from his slit. He's already putty in your hands - groaning above you and placing his metal hand around the back of your neck to keep you where he wants you.

After you've run your tongue up and down his length a few times, you spit on the tip of his cock and massage it over the entirety of his shaft before taking him as far into your mouth as you can in the first go. He throws his head back, moaning your name.

You feel him hit the back of your throat and you gag before pulling back.

He curses under his breath, nudging himself slowly back towards your throat again.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises and you moan around his dick. He gradually increases the speed at which he pumps himself into your mouth, obscene noises echoing off of the thin motel room walls.

When he pulls out, you feel drool running down your neck and mascara-tinted tears leaking from your eyes.

“You're so gorgeous like this for me,” he tells you, and despite knowing that you look thoroughly fucked out, you believe him. “Will you turn around?”

You do as he asks, turning around on your hands and knees. You lower your chest down to the bed so that your ass is angled upwards.

“Jesus Christ,” he grunts under his breath. He grips your hips with both of his hands, yanking you to him. His erection juts against the cloth of your underwear.

He tugs them aside once more, giving him access to tease your slit with the head of his cock. You rock backwards, grinding against him. He brings his flesh hand around your stomach and reaches down to rub your clit as he begins to slowly fill you from behind.

He pauses for a moment once he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust to the fullness of him before he starts fucking into you.

The combination of him slamming into you at such an intense angle and massaging you so perfectly has your climax building shamefully fast.

You grunt his name, bouncing your ass to meet his thrusts. “I'm gonna come,” you mewl, knowing he's on the verge of doing the same as his movements become uneven.

One, two, three more pumps and you can feel your pussy clenching around him as you come together.

You pull off of him, collapsing onto the bed and rolling onto your back. He crawls over you, propping himself up on his arms above you.

“You know,” he stares down at you, his eyes trailing to your breasts that are now spilling out of the black lace bustier. “As much as I hated every second of that mission, I do hope I might get to see you in some of these outfits again.”

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist!!!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine

1K notes · View notes

thewispsings · 3 months

Text

locked in a closet | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x landos bestfriend!reader

summary: lando norris locks his two bestfriends in a broom closet in hopes that they’ll stop hating each other.

liked by, oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 438,626 others!

lando.jpg: how can i get my bestfriends to stop hating each other?

view comments below!

oscarpiastri: you can’t.

lando.jpg: ☹️

oscarpiastri: you can pout all you want. We will never get along.

lando.jpg: why must you break my heart 💔

user1: it’s been a whole year lando…i don’t think they’ll ever get along

user2: NEVER SAY NEVER

user3: oscar this, lando that, can we talk about how good y/n looks?? 🙄

yourusername: THANK YOU!! nobody appreciates my beauty anymore 😒😒

oscarpiastri: what beauty?

yourusername: die?

user4: LMAOO

yourusername: maybe if, he who should not be named, wasn’t so annoying, we could actually get along!

oscarpiastri: i’m not fucking voldemort you can say my name

yourusername: o-os🤮c-ca🤮🤮🤮🤮 no i just can’t.

oscarpiastri: oh and i’m the annoying one??

yourusername: yeah! you are!

oscarpiastri: @/lando.jpg control her.

lando.jpg: guy please, can’t we all just get along 😞😞

yourusername: how would getting along with he who should not be named, benefit me??

lando.jpg: it would make me really really happy 😁😁

yourusername: i couldnt give less of a shit about your happiness lando

oscarpiastri: see? She’s a horrible friend, me on the on the hand would never be so mean to you.

yourusername: you told lando he looks like big bird two days ago?

user5: for two people who hate each other, they sure do talk a lot…

danielricciardo: why do they even hate each other so much? 🙄🙄

lando.jpg: oscar spilled his drink on y/n the first time they met. he refused to apologize. she refused to forgive him.

yourusername: you forgot to mention that my shirt was $300 😐😐

oscarpiastri: FIRST OFF who in their right mind buys a 300 HUNDRED DOLLAR SHIRT???!?!? and SECOND OFF, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!! I refuse to apologize for something that wasn’t on purpose.

yourusername: this is why your mom loves me more.

oscarpiastri: she does NOT.

nicolepiastri: …

oscarpiastri: MUM????

yourusername: i know that’s right.

user6: oscar and y/n would be so cute together if they stopped being so IMMATURE

user7: they should just #kissandmakeup

user8: me patiently waiting for the enemies to lovers 🧍‍♀️

user9: you’re going to be waiting a LONG time…

charles_leclerc: i think it’s time to give up on the idea them being friends mate 😢

lando.jpg: I SAY WHEN ITS TIME

user10: charles is just sick of getting caught in the crossfire 😭

user11: OMG IM NOT THE ONLY ONCE WHO NOTICES THAT ???😭😭😭

user10: NOO I DID TOOO!! it’s like every time oscar and y/n are having a glare-off charles somehow ends up right in between them

user11: AND THEN HE JUST STANDS THERE LIKE 🧍‍♂️

maxverstappen1: just lock them in a room and let them fight it out 🤷

lando.jpg: wait a damn minute…

yourusername: LANDO NO.

oscarpiastri: absolutely not.

— y/n has posted new photos!

liked by, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alex_albon, and 502,528 others!

yourusername: p2, and now movie night in max’s movie theater <33

view comments below!

user12: cutting oscar out of the photo is DIABOLICAL WORK 😭😭

user13: oh to be y/n l/n :((

user14: y/n is literally living the DREAM

user15: the way y/n made SURE you could see that she cut oscar out of the photo

yourusername; i have no idea what you’re talking about ?? 😓😓

oscarpiastri: get off your phone and watch the movie 🙄

yourusername: stop staring and me and watch the movie 🙄

user16: clock it y/n!!!!!

landonorris: did you really have to crop out oscar?

yourusername: yes!

user17: landos trying so hard 😞

user18: they’re all having a movie night 😞😞😞 ??

user19: I SHOULD BE THERE 💔💔💔💔💔

maxverstappen1: this movie is so funny!!

yourusername: it’s brokeback mountain?

maxverstappen1: and it’s hilarious! 😂

user20: MAX WATCHING BROKEBACK MOUTAIN ??!?!??

user21: max thinking brokeback mountain is funny is so him??

charles_leclerc: this movie is so sad 💔💔💔

yourusername: yeah charles we all see you crying :(

user22: charles crying over brokeback mountain is SO HIM!!

user23: is everyone just in there phones during the movie?? 😭😭

oscarpiastri: nope! just she who should not be named 🤷

yourusername: the unoriginality is disgusting!!

maxverstappen1: i’m going to, as the kids say, expose everyone. @/oscarpiastri has not stoped staring at y/n all night.

maxverstappen1: @/yourusername hasn’t stopped staring at a photo oscar on her phone.

this comment has been deleted.

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris has eaten 2 whole pizzas.

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc is crying like a baby.

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo keeps awkwardly laughing at the worst moments.

maxverstappen1: @/georgerussell63 keeps taking photos of his abs

maxverstappen1: @/lewishamiliton is secretly wiping away his tears

maxverstappen1: @/alex_albon has been whining about missing ‘his lily’ all night

maxverstappen1: @/carlossainz has gotten up to pee 10 times in the past HOUR

maxverstappen1: and @/logansargent has been hugging a teddy bear for the past 2 hours.

maxverstappen1: that’s what you ALL GET for not having MOVIE THEATER ETIQUETTE AND BEING ON YOUR PHONES.

yourusername: damn okay….

alex_albon: can you go get me my jacket in the closet? i’m kinda cold 🥶🥶

yourusername: yeah sure? 😭

user24: something’s brewing..i can feel it.

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri can you go get me my beanie in the closet? my ears are cold

oscarpiastri: yeah sure

— 3 minutes later!

— 7 minutes later!

— 2 hours later!

— y/n has posted new pictures!

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, and 629,628 others!

yn.jpg: max’s door didn’t stand a chance against MY muscles 💪(ft, jimmy the cat♡♡)

view comments below!

user25: oscar in the likes?????

user26: wait a minute…

maxverstappen1: don’t worry i won’t make you pay for it 😚

yourusername: you locked me in a room with oscar. i wasn’t paying either way.

maxverstappen1: FINE. 😒😒😒

user27: did she just…say oscar name?

user28: in the whole YEAR oscar and y/n have known each other, y/n has NEVER said his name WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

user29: something happened in that closet

landonorris: hello, i am lando norris, and i would like to publicly apologize for locking my dear friends (especially yn) in a closet. it was stupid and inappropriate of me. i hope to gain back their forgiveness.

user30: did y/n make you do this?

landonorris: no… (yes pls help she’s locked me in my room and won’t let me out)

yourusername; i’ll let you out once you’ve learned your lesson.

oscarpiastri: nice kitty.

yourusername: thanks!

georgerussell63: um, what the fuck is this?

charles_leclerc: maybe management took over oscar’s account?

oscarpiatari: no? it’s me?

charles_leclerc: oh! then what the fuck is this?

user31: something DEFINITELY happened in that closet. why are oscar and y/n actually being civil????

landonorris: i don’t know but it’s scary.

yourusername: do i have to confiscate your phone too?

landonorris: no! Sorry i’m learning my lesson 😞

carlossainz: hahaha 😂lando is such a loser

yourusername: do i have to take your phone to carlos? 🤨

carlossainz: NO, no i’m sorry 😔

user32: is it finally happening?…the enemies to lovers we all wanted 💔💔

user33: your telling me landos plan actually worked and y/n and oscar are being civil now ??

user34: dare i say…oscar and y/n would be a cute couple

danielricciardo: why are you and piastri being cool with each other?

yourusername: isn’t this what you all wanted??

danielricciardo: yeah…i guess we did…didn’t we?

landonorris: I KNEW IT WOULD WORK!!

yourusername: you’re still in trouble, come give me your phone.

landonorris: okay 😞

— oscarpiastri has posted new photos!

liked by yourusername, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 727,918 others!

oscarpiastri: second date, kinda nervous. (she taught me that)

view comments below!

landonorris: second date and already making it instagram official? You’re so whipped 😒

oscarpiastri: didn’t you want us to get along better?

landonorris: yeah, GET ALONG, not GET TOGETHER 😒😒

user35: GET TOGETHER??? EXCUSE MEEEE

user36: THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS!!! IT HAPPNED IT FUCKING HAPPENED. FUCK EVEYONE WHO TOLD ME I WAS DELUSIONAL FOR SAYING THIS WOULD HAPPEN. GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT?? ME! I WAS!

user37: did i just step into a parallel universe where y/n and oscar are dating? because what the actual fuck is going on

maxverstappen1: 😨.

user38: SEE!! EVEN MAX IS ASTONISHED

user39; the period after the emoji is KILLING ME 😭😭

georgerussell63: Is that Y/n????? @/charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: no? it can’t be?

yourusername: it is

charles_leclerc: AHHHHHHH

georgerussell63: AHHHHHHHH

user39: we did it ladies and gentlemen…after one whole year, the enimies to lovers has finally happened 🥲🥲🥲

landonorris: WE??? NAH BABY ME!! ALL ME!!

yourusername: heart heart

maxverstappen1: 🤨

lewishamilton: 🤨

georgerussell63: 🤨

landonorris: 🤨

logansargent: 🤨

charles_leclerc: 🤨

schecoperez: 🤨

danielricciardo: 🤨

carlossainz: 🤨

yukitsunoda0511: 🤨

fernadoalonso: 🤨

totowolff: 🤨

mclaren: 🤨

yourusername: OMG HE BOUGHT ME A REPLICA OF THE SHIRT HE RUINED, I FORGAVE HIM OKAY???

user40: only the seconds date and he’s already posting her?? oh he’s obsessed.

oscarpiastri: well, yes!

user41: 3 days ago they hated each other so much??? what happened???

yourusername: i’m a really good kisser

user42: DO YOU GUYS TGINK THEY KISSED IN THE CLOSET???

user43: maybe we do have lando to thank…

. . .

notes: one of the longest smau’s i’ve done! reminder that comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated <33

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 social media au #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff

2K notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 3 months

Note

YES WE NEED DAD!CHARLES

baby leclerc - cl16

it’s father’s day so perfect excuse to write some dad!charles. i hope you like this tooth rooting fluff

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 288,986 others

yourinstagram my job in the paddock is wife ❤️

view all 8,028 comments

username1 ICONIC

francisca.cgomes my queenie ily 💕

↳ yourinstagram love YOU

↳ username2 the best WAGS

charlesfan1 im still not over the fact that charles is married (i know it’s been more than a year)

scuderiaferrari We love Mrs. Leclerc ❤️

↳ charlesfan2 just fell to my knees at walmart

charlesfan3 she really won in life

username3 drop the hair routine

iamrebeccad 😍

↳ username1 ferrari wags >>>>

lilyhme you mean MY wife

↳ yourinstagram absolutely 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ alex_albon Do something about this @/charles_leclerc

↳ charles_leclerc We’re doomed mate, sorry

leclerc_pascale Ma belle fille 💕💕

↳ yourinstagram je t'aime maman !

↳ charlesfan1 WHY AM I CRYING OVER THIS INTERACTION

charles_leclerc Love of my life ❤️

↳ charlesfan1 CRYING

↳ charlesfan2 SOBBING

liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and 1,153,959 others

charles_leclerc Lovely time out in the track. Let’s go back home to the wifey now ❤️

view all 25,478 comments

charlesfan1 BABYYYYY

charlesfan2 THE CAPTION 😭

username1 i’ve never seen a man flex that he’s married this much

maxverstappen1 Whipped

↳ landonorris Don’t be jealous Max

↳ username2 CLOCK HIM

charlesfan3 WHEN IS YN GOING TO BE IN THE PADDOCK AGAIN??

↳ charlesfan1 seriously it’s been a month

francisca.cgomes MY wifey

↳ charles_leclerc Do I even bother? @/pierregasly

↳ pierregasly It’s a lost cause

↳ yourinstagram don’t be jealous of me and my wife 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ charlesfan1 😭😭😭

username3 bring yn back to the paddock

yourinstagram my hubby is so 😍😍😍

↳ landonorris I feel so single right now

↳ charles_leclerc ❤️love you

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 5,027,337 others

charles_leclerc We can’t wait to meet you, baby girl ❤️

view all 45,826 comments

charlesfan1 OMAHSKSHSUAYA

charlesfan2 IM STILL SCREAMING

lilymhe 🫶🫶🫶🥲 my heart

lewishamilton CONGRATULATIONS beautiful family already

username1 I KNEW IT

charlesfan3 can we talk about how casually charles dropped that information on the interview 😭😭 like SIR

↳ charlesfan1 and how he was trying to contain his smile while he was talking IM SOBBING

pierregasly CONGRATULATIONS MY FRIEND 👏👏

schecoperez Welcome to fatherhood Charles !

charlesfan4 HOLD ON BABY GIRL ??? THEY’RE HAVING A GIRL ?????

↳ charlesfan2 ALREADY DYING OVER GIRL DAD CHARLES

↳ yourinstagram we don’t know what we’re having yet (it’s going to be a surprise) but charles insists we’re having a girl !

↳ charlesfan1 IM CRYING WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION

↳ charles_leclerc It’s called fatherly instincts 😘

↳ charlesfan2 AHHHH

scuderiaferrari We can’t wait to have a little Tifosi running around the garage ❤️

↳ charlesfan1 crying once again over the thought of charles bringing his kids to the races

georgerussell63 Can I be godfather?

↳ maxverstappen1 No, I am

↳ pierregasly You wish

↳ arthur_leclerc I’m the brother, It’s me

↳ charlesfan2 IM SCREAMING THEY’RE ALL SO

oscarpiastri Congratulations 🫶

charlesfan5 i’ve been weeping over this post and the comments for an hour now

redbullracing We make baby sized redbull jackets

↳ username1 REDBULL ADMIN WILDING 😭

↳ charles_leclerc Never.

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️❤️

joris__trouche Whoever said they wanted to be godfather, just want you to know that I won

↳ username2 😭😭😭

leclerc_pascale 💕💕💕💕

francisca.cgomes LOVE YOU BOTH 🫶

landonorris Uncle Lando is ready to babysit

↳ charles_leclerc Bold of you to assume I’ll let you babysit my kid

↳ landofan1 HEEEEEEEELPPPP

danielricciardo Beautiful news, you will make the cutest family

lilyzneimer 🥺

mclaren Papaya is a great color for a nursery 🧡

↳ charles_ leclerc NO

↳ landonorris YES

lorenzotl My baby brother is having a baby, I feel old

yourinstagram squish is already so loved by all of their uncles and aunties 🥺🥺 i love you all

↳ charles_leclerc Her* we’re having a girl 🥰

↳ yourinstagram STOP THIS

charlesfan6 this comment section is a rollercoaster

liked by charles_leclerc, iamrebeccad and 502,188 others

yourinstagram the last few days 💌 the hubby is glued to the bump whenever he’s home, squish and i watch races together and i swear i can feel them jump when charles talks on the screen, we miss you papa @/charles_leclerc 🤍

view all 9,644 comments

username1 this caption just killed me

username2 THIS IS SO CUTE

charlesfan1 IM SOBBING ACTUALLY

lilymhe 💗💗 cutest family ever

scuderiaferrari Little Tifosi in the making ❤️

↳ mclaren They can always become Papaya

↳ charles_leclerc Never, we settled it

↳ username1 not the admins fighting

carlossainz55 Sending you big hugs from me and Rebecca 🫶

charlesfan2 CHARLES GO BACK TO YOUR PREGNANT WIFEEEE

francisca.cgomes I’m coming with sweets for you and baby leclerc 💕💕

↳ yourinstagram this is why i love you

username3 they still don’t know what they’re having ahhh

↳ charlesfan3 but i bet charles keeps insisting it’s a girl

maxverstappen1 Don’t worry, I’m making sure to give him all the girl dad tips along with Checo while you’re home

↳ yourinstagram we don’t know if it’s a girl stop it 😭

↳ charles_leclerc It’s a girl ❤️

↳ username3 omg girldads max checo and charles

landonorris So, about godfather again?

↳ pierregasly No

↳ arthur_leclerc Give it up

↳ alex_albon It’s not happening

leclerc_pascale l'attente est presque terminée!

↳ charlesfan1 OMFG SHE SAID THAT THE WAIT IS ALMOST OVER THE BABY MUST BE COMING REALLY SOON

↳ charlesfan2 YELLING

charles_leclerc I miss you so much, my girls ❤️

↳ charlesfan3 he’s NOT giving up

↳ yourinstagram why do i even bother

↳ yourinstagram we miss you too 💗

liked by maxverstappen1, yourinstagram and 7,836,377 others

charles_leclerc Welcome to the world, our precious girl ❤️

Words cannot express the overwhelming joy and love I feel holding you in my arms for the first time. Becoming your daddy is the greatest gift life has given me, and I promise to cherish and protect you every single day. Thank you to everyone for your incredible support and well wishes during this special time.

PS: Father’s intuition is always right 😉

view all 72,368 comments

charlesfan1 OH LORD

charlesfan2 I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES AT WALMART

username1 baby leclerc is here 🥺🥺🥺

georgerussell63 Baby Leclerc is so loved by so many already 🤍

lewishamilton Congratulations to your beautiful family, wishing you all the happiness in the world ‬ with your little girl 🫶

↳ username2 THIS IS SO SWEET OMG

charlesfan3 HE WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG 😭

charlesfan4 CHARLES IS A GIRL DAD AHHHH

schecoperez Enhorabuena Charles! Parenthood is a wild ride just like a race weekend. Enjoy every lap! Welcome to the club

maxverstappen1 Can’t wait to take her under my wing and make her world champion

↳ redbullracing Redbull gives you wings 😉

↳ charles_leclerc NO

arthur_leclerc I’m the happiest uncle ever ❤️

francisca.cgomes I’m still crying. Baby Leclerc we love you so much 🤍

charlesfan5 FERRARI PRINCESS IS HERE

scuderiaferrari A future Ferrari champion in the making? 🤔 Wishing you all the happiness and joy in this new chapter of life!

↳ username1 they got the serious admin for this one

carmenmmundt What a precious blessing. Sending lots of love to you two ✨

oscarpiastri Congratulations 🧡

charlesfan7 THIS IS THE MOST PRECIOUS CAPTION EVER

danielricciardo Aww, mini Leclerc! Congrats mate, can't wait to see her in a little Ferrari jumpsuit

carlossainz55 So happy for you my friend, you’re going to be the best dad for the little princess ❤️

↳ iamrebeccad We love you so much, baby Leclerc

pierregasly Wow mate! Time really flies, I’m so happy to see my childhood best friend become a dad 💙

↳ username1 this is so wholesome

username4 I WONDER WHAT HER NAME IS

alex_albon I read this caption to Lily and she started sobbing, we love you a lot in this household, baby Leclerc

joris__trouche I love my goddaughter so much 💗

↳ maxverstappen1 When was that settled?

↳ pierregasly I would also like to know

↳ arthur_leclerc I’m really offended right now

↳ charlesfan1 HEEEELP

mlnmarta Baby Chiara is ready to play with her little cousin 🥺

↳ charlesfan2 AHHH BABY CHIARA AND BABY LECLERC TOGETHER

landonorris UNCLE LALA MODE ON LOVE YOU ALREADY PRINCESS LECLERC

↳ landofan1 😭😭❤️

↳ maxfan1 stop P will get jealous

yourinstagram your love and support have made this journey truly magical. thank you for being an amazing hubby and father already. we're so grateful for you 🤍

↳ charlesfan1 THATS IT. IM CRYING AGAIN

↳ charlesfan2 this family is the purest thing ever

↳ charles_leclerc Thank you for everything ❤️

2K notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 3 months

Text

Cart Girls & Curly Q’s

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke has a crush on the cart girl

notes: for once, i feel like i didn’t really struggle while writing luke. this probably isn’t one of my best works, but i loved the idea and i’m so glad i was able to try to bring it to life. hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.” with Luke and maybe a cart girl at the golf club close to the summer lake house?

[3k]

Most of your friends absolutely hate going to work in the summertime. They hate being stuck in an office or storefront all day, no chance to enjoy the high UV and prime lake hours.

You, however, never wake up dreading your work.

During the cold, Michigan winters, you work as a bartender at your college’s local bar. You attend your classes in the morning, do your homework in the afternoon, then clock into your shifts at night. You have the routine down to a science.

During the summers, though, you found a job as the cart girl at the uppity country club closest to the large community of expensive lake houses you drive by every morning.

The tips are amazing, and getting paid to drive around in the sunshine and watch attractive men play golf all day is what you call a small piece of paradise. Not to mention you’re off by five o’clock every day, allowing time to join your friends and family out on the boat for night swims and evening rides.

Today was especially good, with it being one of the hottest days of the summer, your sales were sky high.

You’ve already had to restock your beer cooler three times this morning, and it’s barely even noon.

Your boss has really been pushing the sale of liquor, so you inform every group you pass about your buy a double, get a single shot half off deal, but nothing calls to a man more than a cold beer on a hot golf course.

Many of the men you’ve served today have given you a tip simply because you’re out working in the heat, delivering beers ‘like an angel’ one middle aged man told you, handing you an extra ten.

You just laughed and told him thank you, pocketing the cash. You always loved weekend mornings, locals and vacationers alike all over the course, upping your sales, and as a result, your tips.

As you’re leaving the club house after yet another restock, you see a group of guys that you assumed were around your age.

They were being loud, but not obnoxious, as they piled into two carts and sped their way out to the course, eager to get their game started.

You wondered when you would see them, having been told not to bother people until they’re at least on hole two. Apparently, people get mad when you try to sell them alcohol in the middle of their first stroke.

Making your way around your normal path, you start at hole eight and work your way in a circle until you get back to the clubhouse, the later holes being your big money makers. People are either celebrating their lead or mourning their loss at that point, wanting a drink either way.

You sell a few shots, making your boss happy no doubt, but run out of beers for the fourth time that day around hole sixteen. You stop and offer to each group after that, selling a few more liquor items, but were mostly told to come back when you had beer again.

Flying down the cart path, you see the same group of guys from earlier around hole seven, one out of the group flagging you down as you speed by.

You slow your cart down to a stop and they walk over to meet you, grabbing their wallets from their carts as they approach you.

“Sorry, boys, out of beer. On my way back to the clubhouse now to restock if you want to wait a few,” you tell them once they’re within ear shot, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“Well, do you have anything you can sell us? I’m getting beat pretty bad out here and need a pick me up. Don’t really care what it is,” a brunette pleaded.

You tell him about the shot deals, and he hands you his I.D., requesting a double shot of crown and ginger-ale before turning and asking his cart buddy what he wanted.

“Jack, what do you want?” he calls over to a guy that looked similar to him, thinking to yourself that they could be brothers.

He explains the discount to the other brunette, saying he’s already paid, just to pick what he wanted.

After viewing the second player’s I.D., your brother theory is confirmed by their matching last name.

Jack, you learned, asked for a simple, funnily enough, Jack and coke.

“Alright, gentlemen, anything else I can do for you?” you ask, turning to face the last member of the group.

You make eye contact with a tall, curly-headed boy, noticing the pink tone of his cheeks when you catch him staring at you.

“Anything for you, curly Q?” you ask him, taking note of how attractive he was. You always play up the flirting a little when you find a player on the course attractive, figuring it’ll help your sales while simultaneously allowing you to have a little fun.

His cheeks turn an ever-deeper shade of red when he realizes you’re talking to him, freezing up and averting his eyes. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot, but you find his shyness endearing.

“Nah, Lukey here isn’t old enough, is he Quinny? Still got a few months till you can drink with the big bros. Isn’t that right, Luke?” the brunette named Jack slaps who you’ve now learned is Luke on the back.

You let out a chuckle, witnessing the deadly glare Luke shoots at his older brother.

“Don’t worry, they picked a cart girl that isn’t even old enough to drink, either. Won’t be able to drink the concoctions I make until next spring,” you tell him, hoping to alleviate a little of the embarrassment you caused him.

“Oh, wow,” is all he utters out, bringing out another laugh from you.

“Alright, well, I’ll let you boys get back to your game,” you tell them, walking back over to get back into your cart.

You ride off, thinking of the tall, curly brunette the whole time.

Three hours later, you’re tending the clubhouse bar.

When you came back in for restock, your boss told you it was too hot for you to keep your role as cart girl all day, insisting you switch out with one of your coworkers.

You weren’t too upset with the trade off, now in air conditioning but still getting tips from buzzed players after their game, either nursing their loss or celebrating their win.

The clubhouse gets busier as the day goes on, people dipping in for a quick cool off after playing eighteen holes in the heat.

“Hey, new body down on the end. Care to get it for me?” your co-tender, Brady, asks you, the two of you working in tandem.

You nod at him as you finish pouring the beer in your hand, walking down to the other end of the bar.

“Hey, player, what can I get for ya?” you ask the stranger, not looking up as you place a coaster in front of the patron.

“Just-Just a water, if you don’t mind,” he asks, slightly stumbling his words.

You look up to see the curly brunette, Luke, from earlier.

“Oh, it’s you. Curly Q,” you say, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice.

“Name’s Luke, actually,” he tells you, the redness from earlier returning to his cheeks.

“Yeah, I remember. Just think Curly Q fits you better,” you smirk at him, placing the glass full of water on his coaster. “I’m Y/N.”

He mumbles a small thanks, taking a sip from the glass.

“Anything else I can get for you?” you ask him, glancing down the bar to see if any new customers have sat down.

He stares at you, his eyes caught like a deer in headlights.

You wait patiently for an answer, letting out a small giggle when he just continues to stare at you.

“Alright, well I’ll let you think about your answer and be right back,” you laugh as you start to walk away.

“Wait!” Luke startles you, stopping you in your tracks. “Uhh..do you…come here often?” he stutters out, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Your eyes shine at him with amusement. “Well, I work here, so I think I’d have to say yes,” you respond, smiling.

Luke peeks one eye open at you, seeing your amused expression and sighing, letting his body sag.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I asked that,” he runs his hand through his curls nervously.

You rest your arms on the bar in front of you. “Ehh, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, scrunching your nose as you shake your head.

Luke gives you a nervous smile, sliding his water towards his body and running his finger around the rim of the glass.

“I’m sure you talk to all kinds of idiots like me when you’re serving drinks, huh?” he asks, making your face fall a bit at his defeated tone.

You stand a little straighter. “Nah, not really. Most of the idiots I talk to are just old and creepy, not my age and charming,” you tell him, finally earning a laugh from him.

His laugh was more of an amused scoff, but you already want to see the shy smile that makes its way onto his face afterwards, again.

“Yeah, cause a guy that asks you if you come to your job often is the epitome of charming,” he looks up at you.

“Well, it’s kept me here talking to you so far, hasn’t it?”

Luke blushes, making you think the man in front of you is unable to go two minutes without his face turning red.

“Yeah, I guess it has,” he casts his eyes towards his lap.

“So, Luke, you a local or here on vacation?” you ask him, glancing down at the quickly clearing stools. You know Brady is getting all of your tips right now, but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot.

“Well, a little bit of both. Technically on vacation because I live in New Jersey now, but my parents have owned a lake house here since I was a kid, so I claim the title of a local,” you finally get him to loosen up a little, his body language relaxing. “Plus I went to U of M for a little while, so I’ve spent quite a bit of time over in Ann Arbor.”

“Ahh, a city boy,” you tease, grabbing a glass to wipe down, making it look like you’re at least partially doing your job. “Why’d you leave Ann Arbor?”

“Got a…uh…job offer in Jersey,” he tells you cryptically, eyes darting around the room.

“‘A uh…job offer?’ What are you, in the mafia?” you ask him, mimicking his words and poking fun at his nervousness at telling you about his job.

“Well, not quite,” he starts, laughing a real laugh this time, causing you to mentally record the sound and store it in your brain. “I…ahhh…I play hockey up there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Like, professionally?”

He sinks back into his seat, looking like he wants to hide.

“Yeah. For the New Jersey Devils. My brother, Jack plays for them, too,” He tries to pass some of the attention off of himself.

“Wait, you and your brother both play in the NHL?” the impressed tone of your voice gives Luke a little boost of confidence.

“Well, both of my brothers, actually. But Quinn plays for the Canucks up in Vancouver. Jack and I are both in Jersey, though.”

You let your mouth hang open at him, not being able to hide your shock.

This earns another laugh from Luke.

“What kind of superhuman DNA do your parents possess?” you ask him.

“Not sure. We’re still being studied as we speak,” Luke leans closer, whispering like he’s telling you a secret. “The big wigs in the NHL haven’t found out yet that they grew us in test tubes in their basement.”

You let out a laugh so loud that you gain the attention of several men on the other end of the bar, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Luke leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face as he sees your embarrassed expression.

“Hey, Y/N, you gonna come help me do your job or what?” you hear Brady yell, annoyed that he’s been working the whole bar alone for the past ten minutes.

You roll your eyes while still facing Luke, removing your hand from your mouth and turning your head to respond. “Yeah, don’t get your club all bent, I’ll be right there.”

Luke’s still smiling at you when you turn back to face him.

“Guess that’s my cue to get back to my job and quit talking to cute boys sitting at the bar, huh?” you spew, realizing what you just said a second too late.

Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, his back straightening in surprise.

You pause all movements, staring at Luke.

“Uhh…anyways, gotta go do my job. Y’know, the thing I come around often for?” you make a call back to Luke’s attempt at a line earlier, hoping it take some of the attention off of what you just said.

Luke chuckles at you. “Yeah, I need to go meet back up with my fellow lab rats, anyways,” he tells you, reaching for his wallet, placing a twenty down on the bar.

“You do realize water is free, right?” you tell him, sliding the bill back to him.

“Yeah. Figured I’d try to make up for the tips I caused you to lose, though,” he shrugs his shoulders, standing from his chair.

“Nope, I’m not taking your money. Feels like you’re just paying me for talking to you,” you tell him, holding the money out towards him and shaking it around, trying to make him take it.

Luke shakes his head at your stubbornness. “C’mon, just take it. Your coworker collected all kinds of tips while you were over here.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, leaning over and grabbing Luke’s arm, placing the money in his hand.

“I need to do something, though. I feel bad causing you to lose out on money that should’ve been yours,” he insists.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you make it up to me,” you start, watching him try to lay the money down again and shooting your arm out, preventing him from doing so. “By giving me your number,” you decide to be bold.

Luke goes still. “Uhh, y-yeah. Sure,” he snaps out of his momentary freeze, fumbling for his phone, handing it over to you.

You put your number in his phone, sending yourself a text before handing it back with a wink.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Luke asks, pushing his stool in.

You nod your head yes, turning to go back to your job duties.

You turn back around after you take a few steps, seeing Luke walking away with his back turned.

“Hey, Curly Q!” you call after him, causing him to turn to look at you. “I get off at five, in case you were wondering,” you shout towards him, flashing a smirk before you walk away.

Luke smiles and shakes his head, making his way towards the other side of the clubhouse.

You watch his figure as he moves across the room, stopping to make small talk with a man, shaking his head before joining his brothers at a small table on the restaurant side of the clubhouse, picking up his menu and browsing the food selection.

You smile to yourself and go back to stacking glasses.

As you’re transferring a new stack of clean glasses to the cooler under the bar, you hear someone call your name from above you.

You stand, rattling off your typical greeting to the new customer.

“Someone named Luke asked me to give this to you,” he tells you, handing you the same twenty-dollar bill Luke had tried to hand you a few minutes prior.

You pick up the bill as the stranger walks away, looking down at it before raising your head and looking for the curly headed culprit.

You meet Luke’s eye, raising a brow at him while lifting the paper money, pointing at it.

Luke shrugs his shoulders and grins from across the room.

Months later, when you’re attending your first ever Devils game in support of your newly titled boyfriend, you watch him skate out on the ice for warm ups, making a bee-line to the seat he provided for you.

He looks at you in his Jersey, a sight he pictured from the moment he first saw you on the golf course last summer, wondering how he managed to impress the pretty cart girl he embarrassed himself with, what feels like so long ago.

Your smile took up your entire face as you waved at him, excited to finally see him play in person. He smiles back, pointing down to the ground, asking if you wanted a puck.

You nodded your head yes, watching him pick up a puck and take the cover off of a small cut out in the plexiglass separating the two of you.

When he slides the puck through the hand sized hole, you grab onto his glove, replacing the puck with a piece of paper before pushing his hand back towards him.

He looks down at his hand, confusion written all over his face. He opens his glove, looking down at his hand, his head snapping up to look at you once he realizes what you had done.

“There’s your tip, hot shot!” you shout at him through the glass, smiling in amusement, seeing the same twenty-dollar bill from the first day you met him resting in his red glove, never imagining that the nervous, bumbling boy sitting in front of you at the bar that day would make you feel like the luckiest girl in all of Michigan, and now New Jersey.

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arieslost · 5 months

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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with

anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔

1:30 am | ln4

you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.

“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”

“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.

something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.

now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.

which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.

“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.

“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.

“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”

“yeah, if you want me to.”

“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.

you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”

“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”

“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.

“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”

he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”

“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”

“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.

“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.

“stop laughing then!”

“you stop!”

naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.

“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.

“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”

“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.

a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.

“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”

“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.

“ooh, lemme feel.”

“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”

“not my fault you’re weird and british.”

“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”

“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”

he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”

you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”

you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.

word count: 790

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo

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whytheylosttheirminds · 4 days

Text

LUNCH

(rafe cameron blurb)

pairing: waitress!reader x rafe cameron

content: smut, 18+ minors do not interact!

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

You usually liked your job. Being on your feet all day sucked, and some of the members here were assholes, but they were rich assholes and you never left without your purse overflowing with tips.

It only took a few weeks of waitressing at the Island Club’s restaurant to learn what kinds of things had you clocking out with pockets full of twenties and fifties. You weren’t even from North Carolina originally, but you adopted a sweet, southern drawl to match your fake smile. When you were back-of-house waiting on food for your tables, you’d drop the act, fucking around with the cooks and swearing like a sailor, immediately codeswitching to an angelic southern belle when you were back on the floor.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” the old men would say when you dropped off their burgers.

“You’re welcome, hun,” you’d say to their face, followed by “get fucked, creep,” once your back was turned.

Somehow, the younger guys were even worse. At least the older men had some subtlety, but the twenty-something, trustfunded Kook boys that would come in had absolutely no tact, and they tipped like shit.

Today, none of your work friends were scheduled with you, your new manager had laid into you about your dress being too short for a professional environment, and to top it off, you were working a double. You were actually considering quitting when a herd of local boys came barrelling into the restaurant, fresh off of making fools of themselves on the golf course - all swagger and no skill. You groaned when they sat themselves in your section.

You had absolutely no patience left in you. Instead of your usual chipper greeting and the list of today’s specials, you arrived at their table snapping, “you’re supposed to wait to be seated.”

The guy closest to you looked up under the shadow of his Titlest hat, a smug glint in his eyes as he said, “y'know, you’d be prettier if you smiled. You’d make a lot more money too.” His buddies erupted in laughter, as if he’d just brought the house down with his wit.

You were so fucking done, not even caring if you lost your job.

“Eat me,” you bit back at him. A casual flick of your middle finger in his face as you spun and sauntered away. He watched your hips swing as you left.

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Your dress was bunched up around your waist and apron thrown on the club’s bathroom floor. He kneeled behind you as your nails dug into the marble countertop. Fingertips digging into your ass cheeks, he shook his head back and forth rapidly, dragging his tongue all over your pussy. His pornographic slurps made you whimper helplessly, so incredibly frustrated and turned on. He turned his hat around backwards so he could get deeper.

His big hand came down hard on the side of your thigh with a loud thwack. There would be a red handprint at the hem of your dress when you returned from your 15-minute break. If your boss wasn’t pissed at you before, you were in for it now. But you were too fucked out to care, forgetting all about your bad shift. You let him devour you, your whole body shuddering with every precise flick of his tongue against your clit.

He nibbled at the skin of your inner thighs as he hooked his fingers into you skillfully, drunk on the sound of all the pretty profanities that flowed from your lips.

You came so hard he had to hold you up against the bathroom sink, your knees shaking as you struggled to pull your panties back up. He stood behind you, wiping his mouth sloppily with the back of his hand. He caught your eyes in the mirror, smiling arrogantly at your bright red cheeks and smudged makeup.

“Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Your legs wobbled as you walked back to the table with only his drink on your tray. His friends were already getting up to leave, complaining about how long their food was taking. You'd forgotten all about their orders. He took the cold glass from you with a wink, throwing it back before following his friends to the door.

“You gonna pay for that?” You scoffed.

“Put it on Cameron!” He called back.

You rolled your eyes.

Maybe you’d keep this job a little longer.

#rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe obx #obx smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron blurb #rafe fic #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine

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asidian · 4 months

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I've seen a lot of really excellent analysis on Charles' reaction to Edwin's confession, but there's a huge aspect that I haven't seen talked about at all yet. And that is, namely:

Charles Rowland is a people-pleaser.

Doesn't seem like there's a connection there, does it? Have a seat, my friends. Let me break this down.

The show lays the groundwork for this aspect of Charles' personality early. It's one of the very first things we learn about him, in fact. He's kind and agreeable and helpful, and he's always, always smiling. When Crystal insults him, he laughs it off. When Crystal and Edwin fight, he scrambles to diffuse the situation. He calls himself "a good sort of a chap," and it's important to him that he is.

In episode 3, we find out why. At home, love was always conditional for him. He spent his entire life trying to please his father, and he confesses to Crystal that no matter how nice he was, or how good at sports, it was never enough. That's how Charles sees the world. If he can make people happy, he might actually be good enough for them to love him.

Not only didn't he earn his father's affection, he didn't even manage, in his own eyes, to clear the low bar of being good enough to earn the privilege of not being hurt. And his mother, he says, was "quiet." From the flashback we see, she never stepped in for him or defended him. However hard he was trying, it wasn't enough to get her to intervene on his behalf.

So who else does he have? His "friends"? The ones who literally murder him when he steps in to stop them from doing a terrible thing? The act he put on wasn't enough to win them over in the end, either. However friendly he was, however personable, they turned on him and left him for dead.

Then he meets Edwin.

And when he meets Edwin, he's at his absolute lowest. He's not smiling and putting on a show, for once. He's in a corner of an attic cowering while he slowly freezes to death. But here comes Edwin, offering him kindness, and company, and comfort.

All these things that Charles has spent his whole life chasing, trying to be good enough to earn? Edwin just gives them to him.

Of course he stays with this boy. Edwin is there when he's lost in the dark, shining a light to guide the way. Edwin has seen him unsmiling and afraid, not a shred of his usual act in place, and Edwin has offered him kindness anyway.

So they begin their time together. And what are the things Charles will pick up on almost immediately?

Edwin says right away that he's spent ages in hell. He's plainly had an awful time. He doesn't know how to handle people anymore, but Charles, he knows how to be amiable, how to smile, how to offer levity when things get grim.

So he does. He falls back into what he thinks Edwin needs, the way he always tried to be what his father wanted to see. In the very first episode, he tells Crystal, "I try to be extra happy for all of us, don't I? And I do a pretty good job."

He doesn't ever discuss his own trauma because these boys are terrible at communication, but more than that. He doesn't ever bring it up because he's busy being the support he thinks Edwin needs.

And importantly, Charles doesn't have the self-reflection skills to realize that's what he's doing. Crystal clocks him with shocking accuracy, three episodes in. "He's been hiding it from you," she tells Edwin. "Probably been hiding it from himself." She's spot-on here: when Charles doesn't want to examine his own emotions, or can't face them, he shoves them down under a smile and he carries on pretending.

But that's not the only thing Charles will have picked up on from Edwin.

It's blindingly obvious that Edwin is bad at people. He's terribly repressed. He's from a culture in which emotional honesty and physical affection were not valued or encouraged. But more than any of that, Edwin has his sexual awakening during the events of the show. Before then, he is absolutely clueless about his own wants.

So we have a situation where a consummate people-pleaser who has spent his entire life learning that he has to earn affection finds his way into a friendship with the first person who ever saw him with his mask down and gave him kindness anyway.

Of course he stays with this boy. Of course he wants to keep this.

And what's the best way Charles knows to win someone over? Well, by being what he thinks they want.

So, out come the smiles, for Edwin's sake as much as his own. But more importantly, out comes whatever Charles thinks he needs to perform, in order to keep what is the single most important relationship in his entire life and afterlife.

At this point, Edwin has shown zero romantic or sexual interest, not just in Charles, but in anyone at all. He doesn't especially seem inclined to dating, or to romance, or even to physical affection.

So Charles takes his cues from Edwin, and the cues are very firmly, for thirty years: this boy doesn't have a glimmer of interest in him, not that way.

Fast-forward to the events of the show. Fast-forward to a staircase in hell, where they are being chased by a literal demon. Suddenly his best mate, who he has spent thirty years with, who is his most important person in the world, is saying that he's in love with him.

Of course he needs a minute. Of course he has to sort that through. Any feelings he has for Edwin are things that he has spent literal decades firmly ignoring in the scramble to try and earn affection by being what he thinks Edwin needs him to be.

Because Charles is a people-pleaser at heart. And he may be dreadful at self-reflection, but he is aces at hiding things from himself.

#dead boy detectives #payneland #edwin payne #charles rowland #edwin x charles #dbda #dbda spoilers #meta commentary

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simpjaes · 6 months

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jungwon being amazed when reader begs to be titty fucked 😇😇 ik jungwon loves boobies, he just gives that vibeeeee

*gasp*

mdni wc: 1.1k tags: they're best friends and jungwon has a staring problem. reader doesn't beg but she definitely encourages it....he fingers her hahahaha[imcrying].........

jungwon, the shyest best friend you've ever had struggling not to stare every single time you wear a shirt that shows the curve of your bust or the cleavage of them.

countless times you've swatted at him, called him a perv, told him to go find a girl to sink into before he makes it weird-- and countless times he hasn't fought you on it.

countless times he's just kept staring. and staring. and nearly drooling.

especially when you sleep over, wearing that fucking tank top. Such huge tits, he shouldn't have been shocked when he woke up and loomed over you, seeing a glimpse of your perky and pretty nipple. Honestly, he's sure that your tits have fallen out of that tank top mid-sleep hundreds of times, at this point you're probably just wearing it so he feels embarrassed for looking, right?

Absolutely right.

Now, weeks after the tit-falling-out-of-your-top incident, you decide to push a little. After all, you love Jungwon with everything in you. It's what any best friend would do...maybe.

"You wanna fuck them?" You ask off handedly, watching as your best friend, once again, won't stop staring.

"Wha-"

"Just kidding," You wave him off, turning on your heel and walking towards his kitchen. You stop short of the entrance though, and turn back to face him. "Unless...?"

It's cute, really, how he basically throws himself back into his bedroom at the mere thought of seeing the head of his cock peek through your tits as he fucks them.

You're not serious though, right? You're just fucking with him again.

Oh, but you're so serious about it. As you walk back into his room with a glass of juice, you make a point to play with the strap on that same tank top.

"You want to." You dead-pan at him, clocking his desires at face value. "And I'd let you."

He watches as you shrug, those same dainty fingers teasing him with the strap of your tank top.

Watching, staring again. Is this why you didn't wear a bra today? Is this why he can practically see how hard your nipples are through that tank? Is this why you turned down his air conditioning?

"Stop fucking with me." Jungwon starts, forcing his eyes away from your tits and trying to look up at your face. "It'll be weird."

"Not any more weird than seeing you stare twenty-four-seven."

Ah, there goes his cheeks. Flushing before reddening at your words. His cock twitches between his legs at the way his mind races through images of doing just that with you.

But...you're his best friend.

"Wonnie, you're thinking too hard about it. See? Look." You chuckle, setting your glass down on his bed-side table and lifting the tank top off of you.

He's in shock when they bounce out, fleshy, heavy. Huge fucking tits. If he's ever stared before, he's only doing it harder now as he rubs his legs together, clenching his ass and pushing his growing cock up and against the inseam of his pants.

You, on the other hand, aren't typically this bold. You've never really been afraid to show your tits but Jungwon is right in worrying about the fact that the two of you are best friends.

The way his mouth falls open though? The way he rubs his legs together? The way you can see his cock twitching?

If anything, he's just a guy who loves some tits, and you happen to have him. It won't be weird....hopefully.

"See?" You repeat your words in a softer tone, feeling more seen than expected. "It's easy."

He slowly nods to you, moving his hand between his legs and pressing his palm down. He releases a seethed moan, eyes squinting as if he's in some sort of pain.

If anything, it's reluctance.

"It'll be s-so fucking weird." He finally manages to stutter out, still pressing his palm against himself, still shifting his eyes between both perked up nipples.

"Not any more weird than watching you practically jerk off to me-" You admit, rubbing your own legs together now at seeing your best friend act so...horny.

After all, yeah, he stares. Yeah, it's cute. But this. Why is he turning you on now?

And those words are really all it takes to have Jungwon standing to his feet and dropping his pants, cock hanging heavy and begging to be slid between your tits.

He's leaking when he does it, gently helping you down to your knees in front of his bed, and there, he sits with his cock in hand, unsure of what to do next.

You chuckle at him, as if the two of you haven't already made it weird. You hold both of your breasts up and rub one of your nipples along his length, collecting the precum until it's dribbling out even more.

His hips press up on instinct, fucking nothing but moaning all the while until you take it upon yourself once again to lean forward and nestle his cock between them.

And he just doesn't stop moaning, hands shooting to the outer cups of your tits and pressing them firmly together before fucking up again, and again, and again. Until he's panting rather than moaning, until his brain spirals into that of wondering how the plush sensation wrapping his cock right now is just as good as having it squeezed by a wet cunt. in other words, it's definitely weird but he also thinks no other pair of tits would feel this good against him. And he makes it a point to prove to you. Proving it by cumming within minutes, spurting his cum all up your neck with trembling hands struggling to hold your tits through it. You're in awe, really, seeing your best friend get off for the first time. It doesn't really pain you to stick your tongue out to catch some of his cum, though it seemed to shock him quite a bit as seeing you do it. And by shock him, you mean it seemed to turn him on more because you thought you'd caught the last of his release. No, oh no no. He kept cumming, repeatedly spurting out more and more up until he's entirely spent and flopping back on his bed.

You're quiet when you stand and hover over him, ignoring the swell of your clit and the thick wet sliding between your legs when you move. "Too weird?" You ask gently, slowly crawling onto the bed with him. He blinks up at you, glowing with his post-nut bliss and shakes his head. "Somehow, no." He smiles. "So...then..." You pause, your own face heating up. "You wouldn't be opposed to...yknow.." He feels you grip his hand and run it down your body, straight down between your legs. What he wasn't expecting was for you to like it enough to get this fucking wet over it. And when he looks at you quirking a brow, it's easy for him to offer you some release. Fingers plunging into you from under your shorts, smiling at you like he always does.

#enhypen smut #jungwon smut #enhypen hard hours #ask #anon #hardthots

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cheoliehansolie · 5 months

Text

The Hoodie

Summary: Wonwoo learns something interesting about you wearing his hoodies.

Word Count: ~2.8 k

Pairing: fem reader x Wonwoo

Warnings: Implied smut and a bit suggestive

an: I'm finally back after accidentally taking a break for a month. Thank you guys for waiting patiently <3. As always, if you liked reading this, please reblog or leave a comment. If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask and we can be friends 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist.

---

You woke up to the soft rays of sunlight filtering into your room through your blinds. Waking up to the warmth of sunlight on your cheeks had to be your favorite part of spring. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, you shock yourself with how early you’ve woken up on a Saturday.

Normally you’re one to sleep until you absolutely need to get out of bed on the weekends, but today you’ve somehow managed to wake up at 7:30. Feeling proud of yourself, you decide to take this as your sign to be productive and to spend the day finally cleaning your apartment.

This past week had been hectic with work and the semester coming to an end that you barely had time to sleep, let alone clean your space. So, your apartment had been looking like a tornado blew through it for a while now and it definitely was not helping your mental state.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you shove your blanket from off your figure and force yourself out of bed. What? Just because you woke up early and decided to be productive in your head doesn’t mean that it’s not hard to get out of bed, especially when the mornings are still cold.

You rush into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and shower to warm yourself up. Once you’re done with your shower, you put on a pair of leggings and your hoodie (yeah, definitely yours and not your boyfriend’s).

As you’re tying your hair up into a ponytail, you make your way out of your room and into the living room. You immediately groan seeing all your college papers on your dining table which is serving as your makeshift desk, the trash on your kitchen counters, and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

Seeing the amount of overall filth in your living space, you were extremely tempted to just go back to bed and pretend you never had plans of cleaning, but you knew that if you didn’t clean your apartment now, you never would. So, you grab your phone, blast your cleaning playlist, and get to work.

—

It took you basically all morning just to clean your kitchen and it’s safe to say that morale was at an all time low. You collapsed onto your couch out of exhaustion and hunger. You hadn’t expected it to take so long to clean so you thought you could just eat breakfast after cleaning.

The second your body began relaxing on the couch, you heard a knock at your door. You laid there silently hoping that the person at your door would leave, but less than a minute later the knocking continued.

You let out a groan of frustration as you force yourself off the couch and make the trek to the front door less than a few feet away.

You swing open your front door, a frown still on your face. It takes you a second to register who’s at your door, but when you do, you’re left confused.

Wonwoo stands in front of you dressed casually a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tee shirt. You notice in one hand he’s holding a white plastic bag, which you can only assume contains take out.

“Wonwoo? What are you doing here?” you ask as you wrack your brain trying to remember if you had plans to see each other today.

“You weren’t answering any of my texts so I decided to stop by and make sure everything was okay.” he explains as you step aside letting him into your apartment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I spent the past few hours cleaning. I haven’t been on my phone since I got up. I didn’t mean to worry you.” you say with your lips slightly down turned and eyebrows furrowed.

You felt bad for making him worry to the point that he felt the need to come to your apartment.

“Hey, it’s fine.” he says softly, noticing how upset you looked at yourself. “I wanted to see you anyways, so you not answering gave me an excuse to see you.”

Once Wonwoo took his shoes off, he finally registered what you looked like. His lips almost immediately turned up into a small smile as he realized that the hoodie you were wearing was none other than his own. He noticed the subtle flush in your cheeks, the thin sheen of sweat creating a film over your skin, and the way strands of hair were falling out of your ponytail.

Noticing the fact that Wonwoo was just silently standing in your entryway, you ushered him deeper into your apartment. Honestly, you had noticed his eyes wandering over your figure and you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by the current state of your appearance. You and Wonwoo had been dating for about a year, but something about the way he looks at you makes you feel the same way you did during your first date.

“So, whatcha got in the bag?” you asked, looking pointedly at the plastic bag in his right hand.

“Oh, this? I picked up lunch from your favorite place. I thought you might’ve been sleeping or something when I texted you so I thought it would be nice to bring you some food.”

“Aww, thank you so much babe!” you exclaim in excitement. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and I’ll just grab us some plates from the kitchen?”

Wonwoo gives you a nod as he makes his way to the couch. He places the bag of food on the table in front of him and he watches as you walk around the kitchen grabbing plates, utensils, and glasses of water for the two of you. He can’t help but coo every time you tug at the sleeves of his too large hoodie to grab everything.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask once you’ve joined your boyfriend on the couch.

“No reason. You just look cute in my hoodie, that’s all.” he says, a small smile of endearment grazing his lips.

You feel yourself flush at his statement and pull your hair out of your lopsided ponytail as an attempt to distract yourself from how flustered Wonwoo still makes you even after how long you’ve been dating.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation to more neutral territory.

Wonwoo can’t keep himself from smiling a little wider at your flustered state, but he decides to take pity on you and drops the subject. Just this once, though.

Soon enough, conversation flows easily between the two of you as you share your meal together. Before you know it, the plates in front of you are empty and there lies another thing left for you to clean. Just as you’re about to get up to clean the small mess in front of you (it merely is a drop of water in the ocean of a mess your apartment is), Wonwoo beats you to it and is stacking the dirty utensils in his hands.

“Wonwoo, I can clean it.” you whine when he motions for you to stay seated as he continues cleaning.

“You can rest on the couch. Didn’t you say that you spent the entire morning cleaning?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I -” before you can finish your sentence, Wonwoo cuts you off.

“No buts! You looked exhausted when I got here. The least I can do is clean up the mess I helped make. Besides, I’m not called the dishwashing fairy for nothing.” he says with a smile.

Before you can protest, Wonwoo gives you a pointed look and you realize there’s no way that you can change his mind so you collapse backwards onto your couch letting him do whatever he wants.

You’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time today with the soft clattering of dishes coming from the kitchen serving as white noise. You’re suddenly aware of how warm you feel and you feel as though you are overheating.

You had spent the day either distracted by cleaning or distracted by Wonwoo that you didn’t realize the rise in temperature in your apartment. It was finally spring time and as much as you loved it, you despised how it would be so cold in the mornings and evenings but warm in the afternoons making it almost impossible to dress appropriately without freezing in the morning or melting in the afternoon.

Feeling sweat prickle on your skin, you decide the only thing you can do is change out of Wonwoo’s thick hoodie into a thin, flowy tee shirt.

When you get up to go change, Wonwoo can see you from your kitchen sink a few feet away and he’s instantly curious as to what you’re up to.

“Where’re you going, love?” he asks from the sink as he continues to scrub the plate in front of him.

“I’m gonna change into something thinner. It’s too warm to be wearing a hoodie right now.” you say as you stop at the entryway of your kitchen to respond to him.

“Why do you need to change for that, though?” he asks, taking his eyes off the plate in front of him to glance at you with his confused eyes.

“I just told you, I’m overheating.” you say, confused as to why he’s confused.

“Can’t you just take it off here?”

You feel heat rush to your face, and you’re now feeling warm from embarrassment.

“Well… I would but…” you trailed off, hoping that you would just disappear or he would drop the subject.

“But…?” Wonwoo asks, having finished washing the dishes and giving you his full attention.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Just say it quickly, it’s like ripping a bandaid off. you think to yourself.

In one breath, as quickly as you can, you say, “I would but I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

It takes Wonwoo a second to understand what you said, but when he does, less than ten seconds after the words left your mouth, you’re already in your room with the door closed behind you.

Wonwoo feels his cheeks heat up as he realizes that this entire day, including the past hour plus that the two of you spent together, the only thing separating your top half from the rest of the world was his hoodie. He originally thought you looked so cute drowning in his hoodie and while he still does, this new information changes his entire perception of the time you’ve spent together.

Meanwhile, you were pacing around your room silently screaming at yourself. I can’t believe I just told him that I was both shirtless and braless under his hoodie. Why would I do that? What if he thinks I’m weird? Or worse, what if I made him uncomfortable?

Letting out a defeated groan, you force yourself to push all these worries out of your head. You decide that you can’t hide in your room forever, mainly because you know Wonwoo would come looking for you at some point. So, you change into a loose fitting shirt, take a deep breath, and step out of your room.

Your eyes immediately search the kitchen to see if Wonwoo is where you left him, but he’s not there anymore. You wander deeper into your apartment and you find Wonwoo sitting on your couch, casually scrolling on his phone.

You don’t think he notices your presence and based on how calm he looks, you feel hopeful that he either a) forgot the conversation happened or b) didn’t think it was as much of a big deal as you made it out to be in your head. But when you sit on the other end of the couch and Wonwoo drops his phone to the side to look at you with a knowing smirk on his face, you realize that you were so, so, so wrong.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Wonwoo asks with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you respond, feigning innocence and looking anywhere but your boyfriend sitting a few inches away from you.

“Really? Because I seem to recall you saying that you weren’t wearing anything under my hoodie today.”

Your face flushes for the thousandth time today and you can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Listen Wonwoo, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. That wasn’t my intention.” you say, looking into his eyes earnestly.

“Wait, why are you apologizing?” he asks you confused.

“Because it’s obvious that I made you uncomfortable earlier.”

“Babe, I don’t know why you would think I would feel uncomfortable by it. The only reason I didn’t respond was because I was just a little shocked, that’s all. If anything, it’s kinda hot now that I know that you’ve been walking around with nothing underneath my hoodie.”

Feeling embarrassed by assuming that Wonwoo was uncomfortable and by hearing his true feelings, you grab a throw pillow from your couch and bury your face into it.

“I can’t believe I embarrassed myself in front of you twice in one day.” you mumble into the pillow.

“Hey, this can’t be as embarrassing as when you tripped over Vernon’s bag and ended up spilling your drink on Mingyu’s lap.” Wonwoo says.

“I thought we all agreed to not bring that up anymore.” you whine as you hit him with the pillow in your hands.

“I’m just saying, you’ve done more embarrassing things in your life than telling me you're naked under my hoodie.”

“Wow, thank you so much Wonwoo. I feel so much better about myself.�� you say sarcastically.

“Aww, babe I’m sorry.” he says as he reaches for your hands.

“Forget it.” you say, faking annoyance as you get up to go clean off your dining table turned desk.

“Babe.” Wonwoo whines as he rushes behind you and grabs your wrist.

Before you know it, Wonwoo tugs at your wrist pulling you close into his chest. Your breath hitches at the boldness of his actions and you peer up at him through your lashes to see what his next move is.

He removes his hand from your wrist and gently raises your chin so he can look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry babe.” he says.

When you’re about to open your mouth to tell him it’s fine, you’re silenced by his lips on yours. Deciding that you actually had nothing to say, you choose to melt into the kiss instead.

Once the two of you part for air, you say “I guess you’re forgiven.”

“You don’t sound too confident about your answer.” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Maybe I’m not confident in my answer. What’re you gonna do about it?” you challenge.

“Then let me make it up to you in a different way.” he says as he pulls you into another kiss.

It’s safe to say that you didn’t get any cleaning done for the rest of the day.

—

When you go over to Wonwoo’s place for movie night a few weeks later, Wonwoo is more than happy to see you wearing one of his hoodies you’ve taken from him.

While the two of you are cuddling together on the couch, Wonwoo can’t help but let his curiosity get the best of him. When you’re engrossed in the movie, Wonwoo takes his hand that was resting on your thigh and brings it up to the hem of hoodie loosely covering your frame.

This grabs your attention and you turn to him to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed. But Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the screen in front of you and it makes you wonder if you were just imagining things. Deciding that you were just being weird, you turn your attention back to the screen.

When Wonwoo notices that your attention is on the movie again, he takes that as his sign to move his hand again. He slips his hand under the hem of the hoodie and he slowly inches closer and closer to your chest.

Although your eyes were trained on the movie playing in front of you, all of your attention was on Wonwoo’s hand slowly grazing your skin as he made his way up your body. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hand gently graze your bare breast and you turned to face Wonwoo.

He looked at you with a smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Something told you that you wouldn’t know how the movie would end.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut

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daistea · 4 months

Note

Since you take requests, would I be able to ask for something with Mithrun and Kabru with like a reader that's kind of dense with social cues/hints (especially if they're romantic)?

(I had people confess their love to me, and I still didn't get it till they put it in very clear terms)

(it's probably the 'tism, but I digress. )

I think it's potentially an absolutely hellerious dynamic since Kabru always plays 5D chess with every social interaction. As for Mithrun, I think it's funny to think how the other canaries would just be repeatedly hitting their head on the wall because their captain won't say it straight and they just don't g e t i t.

Ps: I absolutely love how in-depth all of your understanding of characters and their personalities are, and I just hxfhxdvgudts.

This blog just brings me so much joy

Yaaa!!

“Iᴛ’s ᴀ Dᴀᴛᴇ” Kᴀʙʀᴜ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Mɪᴛʜʀᴜɴ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

gn reader

5000 words ;P

Warning: reader is very oblivious. Like incomprehensibly oblivious (for the lolz)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

♡ Kabru ♡

- Kabru has had little flings here and there throughout his life. He treated every partner with respect, of course, but Kabru wasn’t particularly looking for love. He doesn’t dislike the idea of love, it just hasn’t happened yet.

- So, when Kabru starts to genuinely fall in love with someone, it’s a new feeling. He’s observant enough to recognize what it is.

- Unfortunately, the person he’s falling in love with is you.

“He’s been unusually quiet lately,” Holm remarked. Who he was remarking that to remained to be seen. Mickbell didn’t care much. Kuro had other things to worry about. And Rin had already made the same observation three times earlier that day.

The first floor of the dungeon was always crowded, and Kabru’s ears were usually open for anything that could be of use. The leather armor merchant to his left had recently raised his prices. The cobbler to the right was in an argument with an older lady over the shape of a patch he’d made on her favorite boots. And Holm was concerned about Kabru’s recent lack of observations; as concerned as Holm could be.

“Is that really such a shock?” Kabru sent Holm a smile over his shoulder. “I’m not exactly a chatterbox.”

But he was aware of himself enough to know that his behavior lately had been odd. He was usually so good at hiding it, too, but the comfort of his friends seemed to lower his walls. Without realizing it, Kabru had spent their latest dungeon expedition sighing to himself, staring at walls, and missing the details of important things. On the third floor, they’d encountered thieves. His party always relied on him to clock the intentions of approaching adventurers— thieves tended to be overly familiar, friendly, and a bit too eager— but Kabru’s mind was elsewhere. The thieves attacked, and it had genuinely taken him by surprise. The fight wasn’t hard, but Kabru’s lack of preparation set off alarms in Rin and Holm’s heads.

“You’re not,” Rin agreed. Her brow furrowed and she got that cute little line on her forehead again. “However, you’ve really been out of it.”

“Have you been thinking about that person again?” Holm asked.

That person. That person? Kabru knew a lot of persons. The whole first level was filled to the brim with persons, half of them being his acquaintances. Kabru had zero desire to admit that he knew precisely who Holm was referring to, though, and decided to keep his gaze straight ahead as he weaved through the crowd.

When he didn’t respond, Mickbell laughed, “Yeah, he’s thinking of them alright.”

“Heat?” Kuro asked.

Mickbell scoffed from his place on Kuro’s shoulders, “Tall-men don’t go into heat! At least I don’t think so. But they catch feelings, like a cold. Kabru’s caught a cold.”

“Not sneezing,” Kuro mumbled.

“A feelings cold, I mean! The worst kind.”

That was one way to put it. Kabru couldn’t help but sigh as he led the party towards a quieter spot in the corner. Once they were out of the sea of people, he leaned against the stone wall and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t have feelings, I’m simply curious,” he said.

Curious. Right. Mickbell sent him a scrunched up, narrow-eyed look that was reminiscent of constipation. Yet, Rin interjected before the half-foot could say something heinous. “What’re you curious about, particularly?” She asked.

“Good question,” Kabru folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head in thought.

What was he curious about? You held so many secrets. You had this look in your eyes that drew him, a look that reminded him of a room in his mother’s house. She always told him to not go inside. Her rules only made him want to turn the knob even more. And when he finally did disobey her and go inside, all he saw were boxes full of ceramic unicorn miniatures. Still, the rush of satisfaction he’d felt at finally knowing what was in there couldn’t be matched. That’s what he wanted to do to you, open your door and take a peek.

Or, perhaps a ‘peek’ was an understatement. He wanted to meticulously inspect every inch of your mind with a microscope, to know the atoms unseen by the human eye, to be intimately acquainted with every molecule you possessed.

“He’s zoned out again,” Holm muttered, ripping Kabru out of his thoughts.

He looked up, eyes widening at the observation. Holm was right, he was zoned out again, staring at the dirt on the floor and contemplating you.

He forced a smile, “Don’t worry about me, really. I’m just preoccupied. It’s that person, I simply want to know their intentions.”

“Intentions for what?” Rin asked.

For everything. There was no simple answer.

“Oh hey,” Mickbell glanced over his shoulder. His voice was flat as he scanned the room, “There they are.”

Kabru followed Mickbell’s gaze, a straight line that led directly to you— all lines seemed to lead directly to you lately. His heart clenched in a way that was both unpleasant and addictive. Without realizing it, he pushed away from the wall and began striding toward where you stood.

“Wait,” Rin grabbed his arm as he passed. Kabru blinked, looking down at her and waiting for her to speak. She met his eyes and frowned, “I think you’re going to be disappointed. They’re not as mysterious as you think they are.”

Nonsense. You were incredibly mysterious. Kabru could tell you had secrets, layers. He dreamed of pulling them back one by one.

“They couldn’t disappoint me,” he sent Rin a smile that he hoped was reassuring— he knew it was, he’d practiced it in the mirror and on other people all the time.

“I think they will,” she argued.

“They won’t,” his smile faltered just the slightest. Rin didn’t usually get involved in Kabru’s… hobby. Did she know something he didn’t? He decided to not ask outright, accepting the challenge of figuring out the meaning behind her concern on his own.

Rin let go of his arm and Kabru was free to go. His mind switched elsewhere, onto you, and before he knew it he was already slipping through the crowd of bodies to reach you.

You were in front of the vegetable seller’s stand, inspecting a lumpy potato. Kabru knew the vegetable seller was cheating on his wife. Usually, he’d try to get more out of the man, digging deeper simply for the sake of knowing. Yet, you stood there, beautiful and mind-consuming. What did Rin mean by ‘I think you’re going to be disappointed’? Kabru was rarely disappointed with secrets.

“Hey,” he raised a hand as he neared. You looked up from the potato and returned his smile. There was that look in your eyes again, that closed door he desperately needed the key to.

He loved crowds. He loved the hundreds of voices. He loved listening to each one and assigning them meaning, picking apart their words, filing them away into neat little categories. Yet, the crowd might as well have disappeared. All he saw was you. All he wanted was you and your words and your thoughts and your fears and your goals and your likes and your dislikes and your intentions and your—

“Oh hey,” your voice cut through the wants like the slash of a sword, “Kapru.”

Kapru.

His brows furrowed and he plastered on a polite smile— also practiced in the mirror. “It’s Kabru.”

“Right, sorry,” you shrugged.

Were you playing with him? Were you sending your pawn out, a piece that you expected him to take for the sake of a larger, more powerful move? Was it bait?

“How are you?” He forced himself to ask, though he could hear the weakness in his voice. He desperately hoped you wouldn’t notice.

You only tilted your head in thought, “I’m fine. Just buying potatoes.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” Kabru said. It was a lie, you saw him last week. “My party and I are about to go back to the surface to restock. We could grab a drink if you wanted.”

“Why?” You asked.

Why? Why? Kabru couldn’t say why. He wouldn’t say why. ‘I want to take detailed notes on every word you say, every gesture, every breath’ wouldn’t be helpful to his cause in the least.

“Because we’re friends,” he slowly explained. Again, there was that hint of weakness lacing every syllable. He wanted to tear his voice box apart and reconstruct it in a way that wouldn’t falter every time he saw you.

But you didn’t seem to notice. “Alright,” you sent him a smile that made his heart clench.

Alright. Kabru’s smile relaxed, “Alright,” he echoed. “It’s a date.”

‘It’s a date’ was a common saying, of course. But it still held implications, it still held desires, it still signified something more— At least to him it did.

You remained unphased by it, though. Usually, when Kabru said that, there would be a laugh or blush or the widening of eyes. You gave him nothing of the sort. No flirtatious looks, no intention-laced smile, no flicker of recognition.

“See you then,” was all you said.

Rin was wrong. You couldn’t disappoint him. Opening your doors and peeking inside your mind would be so satisfying.

- You go on several dates with Kabru without realizing they’re dates.

- After one date when you make friends with the next table over and invite them to join your meal, introducing Kabru as ‘my friend’ and not ‘the man who is courting me’ or ‘my boyfriend’, he begins to wonder…

- Do you not realize that these are dates?

Kabru knew he had the tendency to stare, but he usually kept that urge locked away for the sake of masking. Always masking. Always aware of his surroundings and the people and the words and the looks.

He kept his staring urge hidden at first. Yet as time passed, as you went on more dates, he couldn’t help himself. He had to stare. He had to drink in every detail of your face, coveting it all as a desert wanderer would covet water.

And you didn’t seem to mind. You would give him this look sometimes, a look he couldn’t quite decipher. It was a mixture between affection and confusion and bashfulness. It was his favorite expression of yours and never failed to put butterflies in his stomach.

Kabru knew he was falling in love. He wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he’d never been truly in love before. At night when he forced himself into bed, he stared at the ceiling and mused on the future you had together. Neither of you had said anything to make the relationship official, but was that even needed? It was obvious that you were together— to him, at least.

Kabru held your hand as he led you through the crowded streets. Once you caught up to his side, he placed his palm on the small of your back. He wasn’t much for PDA, but it was a necessity when traversing the island together. He didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.

Once you were in a more quiet spot, he sent you a smile, “I have to ask, I’m too curious; What’s your favorite date that we’ve had together?”

You thought for a moment, “Hm… I would have to say last week. It was a Thursday. I like Thursdays anyway. I think it was the 7th? Yeah. June 7th, Thursday. That’s a good date, it’s a bit cool outside and all the flowers are blooming. But if I had to say which one was my favorite, I think it would be April 18th. I’m not sure that we spent that date together, though.”

…Okay.

Like the sunset rising over the mountains, it began to dawn on him.

Were you stupid?

No, you weren’t stupid. He had seen you in the dungeon before, how you fought and strategized and reacted. You couldn’t be stupid.

Then what? Were you playing hard to get? Were you teasing him? Was this a move on the board, your Knight piece pressing forward to continue the assault? Kabru needed to know.

He kept his hand on your back but his gaze straight ahead. “That’s nice,” he said. It wasn’t nice, actually. “What about when we hold hands? Do you enjoy that?”

You shrugged, “It helps us keep track of each other as we go through a crowd.”

“But I hold your hand even when we’re not around other people.”

The face you made betrayed your true thoughts. “Yeah, it seems like your hands are cold a lot. You really should start keeping gloves with you.”

“...Do you think I’m holding your hand because my fingers are cold?”

Another flash of confusion, another furrow of your brows. “Why else would you hold my hand?”

The sun rose completely over the mountains and the daytime, clear and bright, engulfed his world.

You had no clue.

- This stresses Kabru out immensely.

- He starts taking notes. He has a special little book just for you. A lot of the pages are filled with scribbles and question marks.

- He makes a plan on what to do. He’s going to up the ante, he’s going to make his feelings so clear that you can’t ignore them or be oblivious even if you tried.

- He starts getting more touchy. He kisses your forehead often. He kisses your knuckles. He’s around you all the time, every chance he gets. He tells you you’re beautiful. He says that he wants you to meet his mother. He talks about your future together.

- You say, “Oh, your mom? Cool. You think we’ll get along? I’m always up for making new friends.”

- “You want a future with me? Well, I’m free next Wednesday.”

“I like you,” Kabru was breathless and wide-eyed. His hair was a mess from how often he’d run his fingers through it. He was disheveled and hadn’t slept the entire night.

You glanced up from the book you were reading, “Oh? Cool, thanks.”

He sent you a look. “No, I mean I love you.”

“Yeah,” you flipped a page in the book, “love you too.”

“You do?” Hope bloomed and unfurled like a spring flower. Kabru felt his cheeks grow warm, a fire igniting within him.

“Yeah,” you said lightly, “I love all my friends, of course.”

That spring flower suddenly wilted. The fire was doused by a cold bucket of water in the form of your words. Kabru wanted to scream and bang his head against the wall.

“You don’t get it,” he hissed through clenched teeth, fingers tensing as he leaned forward, desperate. “I’m in love with you. This is really hard for me to say, but I think you need to hear it like this. I love you. I love you. I love you…” Somehow, his cheeks went even hotter. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed his embarrassment, “I-I… Sorry. I just need you like I need oxygen. I…”

You snorted, “You don’t need me to breathe, I’m a person not an organ. You’re breathing right now just fine.”

He was not breathing just fine, but that was beside the point.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Kabru said. He could hear how strained his voice sounded.

You watched as he walked away, rounding a corner and disappearing from sight. Then he screamed. It sounded like he also kicked something, a crate or box maybe.

How odd.

- When it finally gets through your head, he’s actually a bit satisfied by your embarrassment at it all. Yes, please do acknowledge your obliviousness. Please do apologize for treating his love confession so casually. When you do so, he feels as if he could melt from the relief.

- He still wants to bang his head on the wall, though.

- And he’s spent a lot of nights screaming into his pillow.

- Kabru continues to play 5d chess with you, just simply out of habit, but you’re playing Hungry Hungry Hippos the entire time. He still finds himself trying to pick apart your actions and responses, but he’s learned how to take things at face value when it comes to you. It’s a difficult adjustment, but one he’s willing to make.

- He starts to learn, take more notes, observe your behavior. For dates, he lays it out carefully. You two are going to do this specific thing. Why? Because he would like to see you happy, and hold your hand, and kiss you. Why? Because he loves you. Now you get it.

- You’re fascinating actually. Genuinely, he starts to adore how your brain works. He wants to pick it apart and hold the pieces up to a magnifying glass.

♡ Mithrun ♡

- He does not care.

- Be as oblivious as you want, that’s not going to stop Mithrun.

- The Canaries, however, are going insane.

“How’s it going with them?” Pattadol asked. Her hands were folded in front of her in that polite way, the way that told Mithrun that his second in command had something on her mind. Pattadol thought she was subtle. She was not.

And he knew precisely who she was referring to. Might as well give her an answer that’ll satisfy her curiosity, lest she keep asking questions.

“Fine,” he answered, “just fine.”

Yet, Pattadol’s brow furrowed. Not a good sign.

“Just fine?” She asked. Her voice went up a pitch. “It’s just fine? Really?”

“Really.”

She unlaced her fingers and spread out her hands as if gesturing to something, but all that surrounded them was Mithrun’s under-decorated living quarters. There was really nothing to gesture at besides the wooden cabinets and the bed. Mithrun waited, aware that she was picking through her piles of thoughts— probably thoughts mixed with screams of frustration— to find the right words.

Finally, Pattadol forced a shaken smile, “It’s clear to anyone that knows you that you’re in love with them, Captain.”

That was what she decided to say? It was a bit blunt for Pattadol’s usual style. Mithrun only shrugged, “Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty obvious.”

“So why haven’t they noticed yet?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I want you to be happy for once!” Pattadol snapped, but she then took a deep breath, “Sorry, Captain, I didn’t mean to sound that way. This is hard for me, talking so openly about these things… But it’s so frustrating to watch.”

Mithrun could understand that. While he personally wasn’t frustrated by the circumstances, he knew that the Canaries couldn’t stand watching his interactions with you. It wasn’t a big deal in the long run, in his opinion. They’d get over it.

“Thank you,” he answered.

“Do you have any ideas on how we can do that?”

“Do what?”

Pattadol’s eye twitched ever so slightly. Her fingers tensed like claws, and Mithrun felt the corner of his lips turn up in a barely-there smirk. But genuinely, he wasn’t sure what she referred to. Did she mean the part about him being happy, or the part about you being oblivious? She should’ve been more clear.

“About…” she hesitated. Obviously she wasn’t sure what she meant either. She then nodded as if deciding, “About everything. About the obliviousness, your happiness, etcetera.”

He didn’t know what the etcetera referred to, but didn’t care to ask. “You don’t have to do anything,” Mithrun assured her as he leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. The wood creaked slightly from the movement. Everything on this boat creaked, as was the nature of boats, he guessed.

“I would like to do something,” Pattadol nodded, determined. “We all would.”

A shrug, “Alright. Then do something.”

- Pattadol, over-achiever and top student and certified Girl Who Cares Too Much, takes that as a challenge.

- Cithis only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- Fleki also only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- And Lycion also also joins because he thinks it’ll be funny (though he does care on some level. Not really about you, but about Mithrun. And it’s painful to watch.)

- Otta is forced to join.

- The attempts are weak at first, like dipping a toe into the water to see how cold it is. Mithrun only has so much patience for interference with his life, so they have to be smart and tread carefully.

- Pattadol gives Mithrun a hint. “There’s some pretty flowers growing beside the road over there. You should give one to them!”

- “What would they need a flower for?”

- Mithrun asks that on purpose. He knows precisely what he’s doing. Yes, people generally like receiving flowers, he knows that. But he also believes that flowers are useless gifts.

- “Then what present do you suggest?” Pattadol asks.

- Mithrun has an idea. He gets you soap. Everybody uses soap (hopefully) It’s a useful gift, and if he gives you the same kind he uses then he’ll get some weird sick flicker of pleasure from having his scent on you. (He wisely chooses to not say that part aloud.)

You held the little bar of soap in your hands as if it were an injured baby bird you found on the ground. Yet your feelings towards it were far from protective or empathetic. This soap said something. It had a mouth and it used it to scream.

You met Mithrun’s flat gaze, “Soap…”

He nodded, “Yeah. Soap. It’s a gift for you.”

For you?

Mithrun continued, “It’s the same kind I use. Smells the same.”

It felt as if you’d swallowed a handful of pebbles and they all had gotten stuck in your throat. “Do you… think I’m stinky?”

You cursed yourself for even asking that. What a useless question. Obviously, he thought you stank! He gave you soap! He was trying to tell you something, being subtle and polite for once! Usually Mithrun would just say it bluntly, but he’d been working on his desires lately. Perhaps he’d also decided to embrace societal expectations? You weren’t sure. But soap. Soap!

You didn’t notice how Mithrun tensed. You didn’t see him quickly blink several times and tilt his head. You didn’t see the slight widening of his good eye. “No, I—“

“I’ll go use this right now,” you interrupted, “I’ll go wash away my stench so you can finally stand to be near me.”

Despite the horror, you were a bit proud of yourself. You’d taken a hint, maybe you were getting less oblivious.

- In your defense, a bar of soap is a weird gift.

- Alright. Mithrun admits it, he needs help. He’s not so prideful anymore that he won’t admit that he doesn’t know what to do.

- Pattadol is really triumphant about that but does her best not to show it.

- Plan B: make it so obvious that you have no choice but to realize his feelings.

“This has to be the most physically uncomfortable I’ve felt in a very long time,” Mithrun said as he tugged at the ends of the fancy, over-decorated blouse the Canaries had put him in. “I honestly prefer Cithis’s frilly dresses.”

Which was saying something. Mithrun had a preference? That was a good sign.

“It makes you look handsome,” Pattadol said.

“The only thing it makes me is itchy,” he corrected.

The Canaries had somehow found a blouse— not a shirt or tunic, a blouse— that made Mithrun feel something other than indifference. He usually didn’t care about what he wore, as long as it was comfortable, but the clothes they’d stuffed him into were offensive to human-kind, like vegan bacon.

It had a big frill on the front and puffy sleeves. It was somehow both too flowy and too tight at the same time. The trousers weren’t much better, digging into his legs. And the shoes…

Mithrun didn’t want to talk about the shoes.

It was clear to him that Fleki and Cithis had only contributed to the outfit because they thought it would be amusing. Good for them, he supposed. Pattadol seemed to genuinely like it, Otta looked horrified, and Lycion was in some in between state where he wanted to show pity but couldn’t quite stifle his giggles.

“Remind me again what the point of this is?” Mithrun asked with a sigh.

“We got them to agree to a date!” Pattadol said, grinning, “I said outright ‘it’s a date’ so there would be no confusion. I made it clear that the date was with you. Now, if you show up looking like a million gold with a bouquet of flowers, they’ll get the hint.”

Mithrun did not want to do that.

Mithrun rarely wanted to do anything, but this just felt wrong. In his opinion, the relationship between you and him would develop naturally in a way that fit both of your personalities. He didn’t mind waiting for you to realize his intentions, he had time. As long as you didn’t fall in love with someone else, and didn’t stop him from staring at you or touching you, then he wasn’t in a rush.

But since the Canaries insisted, seeming to think that this was the right course of action, he would go along with it. Maybe it would be an utter disaster and Pattadol would realize that she knew very little about relationships— especially a relationship involving Mithrun. He was aware enough of himself to know that it wouldn’t be conventional.

With his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and the ridiculous outfit on, Mithrun entered the restaurant Pattadol had chosen. He found you immediately. You sat in a chair with your elbow on the table and your ankles crossed, waiting.

Mithrun held a bouquet of pink roses as he approached. You lit up when you saw him, but your brows then furrowed.

“Where’s Pattadol?” You asked.

His stride faltered, “She isn’t coming.”

“Oh,” you shrugged, “well since she set this up I assumed she’d be here.”

Why would she be here? It was a date Pattadol had set up for you and Mithrun specifically.

You probably didn’t know it was a date, he realized. Pattadol thought she’d been clear by saying ‘it’s a date’ but failed to realize that that was just a common phrase among people and meant nothing to no one.

Calm, he slid into the seat across from you and watched as you raised a brow, “What’re you wearing?” You asked.

“My team picked it out for me.”

“You look like you’re part of an opera or a ballet, like you’re about to stand beneath a balcony and start spouting poetry to your lover.”

That was a good description, actually. Those were the words Mithrun had been looking for earlier when he saw himself in the mirror.

He nodded, “Yep.” Then, wordlessly, he held out the bouquet to you.

Your eyes widened, “For me?”

“I’m handing them to you, aren’t I?”

Gingerly, you took the flowers and held the stem of the wrapped bouquet with both hands as you inspected each petal.

A flicker of surprising satisfaction ran through his chest. You liked the flowers. It made sense, most people liked flowers, even if he didn’t see why.

You dipped your head down toward them presumably to smell them, but your lips then parted and you dug your teeth into the nearest rose.

Mithrun froze.

You chewed on the rose, your nose wrinkling in disgust. You gave the flower a good shot, a proper taste, but it didn’t take long until you grabbed a napkin and spit up the pink slobbery mess into it.

“Sorry,” you sent him an apologetic smile and tried to hand the bouquet back to him, “they don’t taste that good, and I don’t think I could season or cook them in a way that would help.”

Mithrun knew he was staring. He knew he was making a face, slightly tilting his head down, intensity in his eye. The kind of face someone made when they were internally screaming.

He was not internally screaming, but he was thinking— about you, how your brain worked. And how it was so damn charming for some reason and all he wanted to do was kiss you until he was all you could think about.

He wanted something. The feeling was sweet, a shot of adrenaline, one of Fleki’s drugs. Addictive. Like the slow drip of honey. He could survive off that want for ages.

Wordlessly, Mithrun threw the bouquet over his shoulder to get rid of it. Judging by the gasp that followed, it probably hit someone in the head.

Loving you was as natural to him as breathing.

- Mithrun decides to not let the Canaries interfere any longer. He was wrong earlier in thinking he needed their help. He doesn’t.

- Also, watching them go insane over your obliviousness and his lack of communication provides a good bit of entertainment.

- When he finally decides to give into that all-consuming, new, exciting desire and kiss you, your response is, “But I wasn’t casting a spell, no reason to try and stop me.”

- God, he adores you.

- He takes kisses whenever he wants them, with no care about what you think his intention is.

- After a certain kiss that involves tongue and teeth and fingers digging into your waist, you start to openly wonder… Are you in a relationship with Mithrun?

“Yes,” Mithrun didn’t even glance up at you, remaining unphased by your rather serious question, “We’re in a relationship.”

He continued to jot down notes about a monster he saw, as if he’d just casually answered a question about the weather. ‘Is it going to rain today?’ ‘Yeah looks like it.’

You gulped, “How long?”

“A year now,” he kept writing. Truthfully, he’d been expecting this. A flash of disappointment crossed his mind; there goes one of his hobbies, watching the Canaries have a crisis over his love life.

You buried your face in your hands. Mithrun stopped writing and patted your head as if comforting a dog.

- The Canaries are pleased that this is over. But actually, they’re going to have to watch you not realize it when you’re engaged to the Captain.

- At your wedding you’re in regular clothes. Someone asks why and you say “Mithrun told me we’re going to a wedding. He didn’t say it was ours.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

#dungeon meshi #asks #mithrun #delicious in dungeon #mithrun of the house of kerensil #mithrun x reader #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi x reader #kabru x reader #kabru #kabru of utaya #x reader #reader insert #my writing #gn reader #oblivious reader

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starsinthesky5 · 2 months

Text

sweetest surprise || joe burrow x reader

description: a confusing and uncomfortable few days results in the sweetest surprise :)

a/n: an unplanned fic before I get back into YAIL and YBWM! this one was on the ML for a while so I decided to get into it on my very lengthy drive home from texas so this is definitely not my best writing since I was half asleep when writing half of this but i hope you guys like it regardless :)

the fic jumps around a bit to certain moments so hopefully it’s easy to follow!

warnings: language, mentions of sex

word count: 14 k

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November 21st

You felt a set of soft and delicate lips pepper featherlight kisses around your face, the lips felt extremely cozy and warm like you were being touched by a cloud-like plush blanket. You slowly opened your eyes and were met with your husband towering over you, a cheeky grin on his face as daylight filled your once-dark bedroom.

“Someone slept in,” he laughed.

You turned your head to the side to see the time, the clock reading 9:32 am, 2 and a half hours past the time you were supposed to get up. You slept through the early alarm you had set to get up and make Joe his usual game-day breakfast and prepare for the game as you were busy the night before with your friends. Not to mention you and Joe were hosting a family dinner party after the game and the house was an absolute mess.

“Oh my god, I don’t know how I slept in,” you say as you sit up quickly, but maybe a little too quickly as you feel dizzy all of a sudden. You reached for your head to stabilize yourself, the room slightly spinning as you tried to gather yourself.

“Hey, you okay?” Joe asked as he grabbed your hands and sat down in front of you.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Just felt a little dizzy,”.

“Does your head hurt?” he asked as he moved your hair out of your face, his voice laced with concern. “Do you need water?”.

“Nope, I think I just sat up too fast,” you nodded. “I’m good on water though, thanks. Sorry about sleeping in, I don’t know how that happened. I was supposed to make your breakfast and you’re probably starving right now and you have to leave in a little bit,” you said as you looked down at your hands that he was rubbing with his soft fingers.

“You don’t need to say sorry, you deserve to sleep in once and a while since you sacrifice your weekends for me & football,” he chuckles.

“Yeah but now everything is thrown off since you don’t have anything to eat, there’s only a few hours till kickoff and I don’t even know what I’m wearing, and we have family coming over after the game and the house is a mess,” you say, your breaths getting shorter as visible panic sets in.

“Woahh, let’s breathe for a second,” Joe says, now rubbing his hands on your thighs to help calm you down which always worked. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I grabbed us breakfast on the way home from the team hotel, you can wear one of my Bengals hoodies and leggings because you look beautiful in everything and don’t need anything flashy to show that you’re my biggest fan, and I asked the housekeeper to come over while we’re at the game to clean up for the dinner tonight because I knew it would be a lot for you to juggle by yourself,”.

You sat there and stared at Joe for a few seconds, still unable to fully comprehend how he always managed to fix your problems with what felt like just the snap of his fingers. He’d always been able to easily ease your worries no matter how big or small even when you were dating, and now that you were married that hadn't changed. Joe had been the perfect boyfriend to you for many years and now was the perfect husband, you were truly the luckiest woman alive because you had someone so thoughtful and sincere by your side.

“Thank youuu,” you said as you moved closer to him and pulled him in for a tight hug. “I don’t what I would do without you,”.

“It’s a good thing you don’t need to know what you’d do without me. I’m always here,” he smiled against your head.

“Mmm, you’re the best,” you say as you melt in his arms. “I don’t know why I feel lazy and weird this morning,”.

“We all have those days. I’m sure you’ll be fine by tonight,” he says as he rubs your back before pressing a kiss to your lips. The warmth radiating from his body makes you feel ten times better already.

“I hope so,” you yawn. “What’d you grab for breakfast?” you ask as you pull away from the hug.

“I got us some muffins, fruit, and smoothies from that bakery you love downtown by the stadium,” he says as he gets up from the bed, putting out his hand to help you up.

“Oooo yum,” you chirp as you get up. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, just need to freshen up,”.

“Yes ma’am,” he says as he presses another kiss to your cheek before getting up and walking out of your bedroom, a nice bounce in his step. At least one of you was having a good morning.

You walk into the bathroom, pee, and then make your way over to the vanity to brush your teeth. After you brush your teeth, you take a good look at yourself in the mirror, noticing how your face looks more tired than usual—matching how you felt—and then you notice your stomach sticking out a little through your semi-tight sleep shirt.

“I knew I shouldn’t have had those two milkshakes yesterday,” you murmured as you rubbed your hands over your seemingly bloated belly. “Bloated is not a cute look,”.

You make your way down the stairs a few minutes later, watching Joe as he takes out the food from the bags and sets everything up on the table. “I got you a pumpkin banana muffin, a mixed fruit bowl with berries, pineapple, and mangos, and that Pacific Sunrise smoothie you like,” he smiles as you walk closer to him.

“All my favorites,” you grin as you lean across the table to press a kiss to his lips. “Such a good husband,”.

“Only the finest variety for the best wife in the world,” he said as he popped a piece of pineapple into his mouth.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing those words come out of your mouth,” you smile.

“And I’ll never get tired of saying those words,” he winks as he pulls your chair out for you.

You both sit down at the table with your breakfast and start to dig in. You finish up your bowl of fruit first and then move to the smoothie as you and Joe talk about the game and the dinner later.

“My mom and aunt said they’ll bring over some food for a potluck-type thing. I checked the fridge and we have everything for hamburgers and hotdogs so we could probably use the grill,” he said as he took a sip of his smoothie.

“It’s freezing tonight so maybe try to make them inside,” you say as you take a sip of your smoothie, your face immediately scrunching up in disgust.

“Yeah, that’s probably a better idea…Are you okay?” he says as he looks up and notices your face.

“This smoothie tastes awful,” you cough as you push it away.

“I thought it was your favorite?” he asked as he picked up the cup to read the label.

“It is, but this tastes so bad for some reason,” you reply. “Here, you take a sip,”.

Joe nods before taking a sip of the fruity smoothie, the taste seeming normal to him as his face stays the same. “It tastes like how it usually does to me, Tropical and a little Citrusy,” he says as he places the cup back down.

“It just tastes strange, I don’t know why,” you gag as the aftertaste is even worse than the initial taste.

“Maybe try the muffin?” He asks as he passes it to you. “You need something more than just fruit inside of your belly since I know you usually don’t eat much during the game,”.

You nod and take a small bite of the muffin but you immediately put it down as it tastes just as bad as the smoothie. “That tastes bad too,”.

“That’s weird, you eat this all the time and it’s never been weird before,” he says as he inspects the muffin. “I don’t see anything wrong with it either,”.

“I’ve been getting this same order from that Bakery every week for the past 4 years and I’ve never been grossed out by it before,” you frown. “I don’t understand why it tastes like rotten eggs to me and not you,”.

“We can put them in the fridge and see tomorrow if it tastes better. Maybe it’s just your tastebuds or something,” he says as he gets up to put them inside the fridge.

“We can try but I don’t know how my tastebuds are going to change in 24 hours,” you giggle.

“Well clearly they changed since the last time you had the smoothie and muffin so let’s try it again tomorrow,” he smiled.

“Whatever you say, Doctor,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes.

A few hours later - Paycor Stadium

There were about 20 minutes till kickoff and you were settled in the Burrow Suite with the family and a few other close WAGs. You grabbed a coffee and a bag of pretzels to snack on throughout the game since you barely had anything for breakfast this morning. The coffee was to help you stay awake since you woke up tired and were still feeling it hours later and you didn’t want to be groggy during the family dinner tonight. You listened to Joe and opted for one of his crewnecks and a pair of leggings for today's game, a little more lax than what you’d usually wear on game days but you were comfortable so that’s all that mattered.

“Sounds like a weird morning,” Jess said after you told her how your morning went.

“Oh, for sure. We all know I never sleep past my alarms so I don’t know what that was about and the breakfast thing was weird too,” you say as you pop a pretzel into your mouth, your stomach feeling a little weird as you sit there and watch the pregame preparations with your friend.

“Hopefully you’re not sick or something. Can’t have you missing the annual WAGs party next week now that it was finally my turn to plan it,” she says as she pats your leg.

“I hope I’m not sick. I don’t want to miss the party since I know how long you’ve been planning it for and that’s too much to handle right now since we’re getting into a crucial spot in the season. If Joe got sick right now, I would never be able to forgive myself,” you say as you squirm in your seat, feeling more and more uneasy as the seconds go by. You barely took a sip or bite of your breakfast this morning, so you couldn’t understand why your stomach was acting up.

“I’m sure you’re fine. We all have days like that,” she says.

You let out a laugh, “Joe said the same thing,”.

“Sam says that to me every time I have a bad morning,” she giggled.

“They really are the same person just in a different font, aren’t they?” you ask as you stand up to get a good look at the field to see if you can spot Joe, but as soon as you do, your stomach feels like it does a backflip and you feel a wave of nausea come over.

You reach for your stomach, wrapping your arm around your belly in an attempt to make yourself feel better. Jess notices and stands up next to you, “Y/N? You good?” she asks as she places her hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t know,” you say as you swallow. “I feel nauseous all of a sudden,”.

“Here, take this water,” she says as she reaches for her water bottle. Before you could grab it, you felt a burning sensation in your throat and a cramp in your stomach, a sure sign that you were about to throw up. You put your hand over your mouth and run out of the suite and down the hall to the bathrooms. You swing open a stall and crouch down as you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You hear footsteps behind you a few seconds later and then a hand holding your hair back, Jess must have walked in.

“It’s alright, just breathe,” she says as she rubs your back with her free hand. A few moments later, you flush the toilet and sit down on the floor to process what just happened.

“Here, I grabbed you water and some paper towels,” she said as she turned around to grab the things and hand them to you. “I think I have some mints in my bag so I’ll be right back,” she says as she gets up.

“T- Thanks,” you mumble as you wipe your face with the paper towels, taking a few deep breaths before you slowly get up and walk over to the sink to rinse your mouth out before taking a few sips of water. You look in the mirror and take a few more breaths, examining your tired face while trying to hold yourself together.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you whisper to yourself.

A few hours later - End of the game

“Are you okay?” Joe asks as he engulfs you in a big hug after he walks out of the locker room. You were a little surprised that he found out so quickly but then you realize Jess must have told Sam and Sam must have told Joe and now you had to deal with Mama Bear Joe. Whenever you got sick he would baby the hell out of you even if it was something as minor as a cold or headache.

“I think so,” you mumble against his neck. “I didn’t throw up again, thank god. But I still feel a bit shaken up,”.

“You wanna cancel tonight’s dinner?” he asks as he rubs your back before pressing a few kisses to your forehead.

“No, definitely not. We’ve been meaning to have them over for a while and I would hate to cancel last minute like that,” you say as you pull your head out of his neck.

“Okay, then let’s go to the doctor real quick,” he says, his inner Mama Bear peeking through.

“Joe, No,” you say as you shake your head.

“Y/N, you threw up,” he said.

“I’m going to be fine,” you laugh. “It’s not like I passed out or something and I don’t even think any doctors are open since it’s Sunday afternoon,”.

“The team Doctors should still be here,” he says as he moves his head to see if he can spot them.

“I know you’re worried but I’m fine. No need to bug anyone about it,” you say as you move your hands to cup his face, moving it back so that he is looking into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes softening out of concern for you.

“Positive,” you assure.

“Okay,” he nods. “I wonder what made you throw up? It can’t be breakfast since you barely had anything to eat,” he says as releases you from the hug. He moves his hand down to yours and starts to lead you both back out to the car, hand in hand like usual. You’d always wait for him outside the locker room after a game so you could walk back out together to debrief. You both tried to keep post-game talk to a minimum once you got home especially if it was a bad game, so you got all of it out on the walk to the car and the drive home.

“I honestly have no idea. I had two milkshakes yesterday but I don’t see how that would’ve made me throw up a day later, you say as you look up at him.

“Two?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up as he gives you a look of confusion.

“I was craving milkshakes, Okay,” you laugh. “And before you judge me, let me remind you that you ate 5 slices of pizza in one sitting after the Divisional game last year,”.

“I was hungry,” he laughs.

“And I was craving sweet treats,” you pout.

“Okay, Fine,” he retreats. “If it wasn’t the shakes then maybe it’s a stomach bug? That could also be why you felt tired all day and slept in this morning,” he says as he squeezes your hand.

“I guess we’ll find out in a few days,” you sigh. “I hope it’s not a stomach bug because I don’t want you to get sick too,”.

“I’ll be fine,” he smiles.

“I don’t knowww,” you tease. “I think I’ll have to pause the kisses for a few days so I don’t give whatever I have to you,”.

Joe whips his head around and glares at you, “No fucking way,”.

Joe would die if you stopped kissing him. He could not go about his day without a good morning kiss from you and he could not sleep without a good night kiss from you, they were his favorite things. You remember your first kiss with him and how insatiable he was once he felt his lips against yours, needing to feel them against his all the time.

“It’s cute how you’re still the same 20-year-old that can’t go a day without a kiss from me,” you say as you softly push his shoulder.

“Maybe don’t have the softest lips in the world and then I’ll stay away,” he jokes as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

“Sorry, no can do,” you giggle.

“Then I guess I can’t say away,” he grins as he leans down and presses a big kiss on your lips.

“You’re probably going to throw up tomorrow,” you smile against him.

“I’ll pay that price if it means I get to kiss my girl,” he says before pressing another kiss to your lips.

After the Family Dinner

The Family Dinner went smoothly since your nausea died down and you could finally eat something without feeling like you were going to throw up again. You still felt a little tired but managed to push through as entertaining conversations with family members kept you awake. Now, you were sitting on the bed after your shower and were waiting for Joe to come upstairs after cleaning up. You offered to help him since there was a lot to clean up but he insisted that you went upstairs and relaxed a little after the weird day you had, so that’s exactly what you did.

You were scrolling on your phone when you heard the bedroom door close. You look up and see your adorable husband trying to catch his breath, “Told you I could’ve helped you,” you shrugged.

“Cleaning up after a dinner party is not for the weak,” he sighs. “I didn’t realize we were so messy and there were so many things all over the place. And then I had to get the trashcans outside before the downpour started so I literally had to run around to grab the bags and take them down to the trashcans,”.

“Aww, is my poor baby tired?” you tease.

“This is not funny,” he said as he gave you a look while taking his shirt off. “I could’ve slipped and fallen in the rain,”.

You went silent as you watched him pat his body with his shirt before tossing it into the laundry hamper, his muscular chest glowing in the warm lighting of your bedroom. Joe was built like a Greek God, the way his chest looked like it had been crafted from gold, and the way his golden hair and blue eyes always caught you in a trance.

“If he just bent me over right now–,” you thought to yourself, finding yourself in one of those trances again before you felt a sudden sensation of weight on you that pushed you back onto the bed, snapping the impure thoughts out if your head.

“Mmph, I missed you today,” Joe said, his entire body on yours right now.

“I literally saw you the entire day,” you giggled as you moved your hands into his hair.

“I know, but I feel like we barely saw each other at the same time. My mom had you occupied for the majority of the dinner and we didn’t get any alone time,” he sighed.

“Alone time?” you questioned. “Alone time for what?”.

“For this,” he says as he kisses your lips, slowly deepening the kiss as you feel his warm tongue enter your mouth. You let out a soft moan when you feel his hands slip under your shirt, his big hands rubbing your plush skin. You open up your legs a bit more to accommodate his big body as you suck on his lip and pull him closer, his hands now moving up to your bare chest. You wrap your legs around his waist and move your lips against his in a way that you know drove him crazy, slowly switching back and forth between his top and bottom lip. You feel his hand massage your breast which would normally make you feel pleasure, but this time all you felt was pain.

“Ow,” you wince as you pull away from the kiss, his hands immediately stopping.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his face and body frozen at your apparent ache.

“Do that again,” you say to him, then feel his hand squeezing your breast again and still feel pain.

“Fuck, that hurts,” you whisper.

He slips his hand out from under your shirt and moves off of your body, “What’s wrong?”,

“My boobs feel so sore,” you whine.

“Is it your period?” he asks as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t think so,” you sigh. “I don’t know what’s up with me today,” you say as you slide your hands across your face.

“It’s okay,” Joe says while grabbing your hands and kissing them. “I told you this morning that we all have those kinds of days and I think that’s all this is. You might have just caught something from someone and are a little sick,”.

“I don’t know what kind of sickness involves these kinds of symptoms but I guess you’re right,” you say, not being able to come up with any other reason as to why you were having an off day.

“Just take it easy tonight, I’ll grab you some Tylenol and Water,” he says as he slowly gets up from the bed.

“But what about–,”.

“Nope,” he says, shutting you down as he knew what you were going to say. “Sex is not what you need right now,”.

You drop your shoulders and give him a pouty face which usually works, but this time it didn’t. “Joeee,” you grumble.

“Sorry beautiful, but I promise I’ll make it up to you when you feel better,” he smiles.

“How is it fair that you still get your kisses while I’m sick but I can’t get laid?” you say as you cross your arms and bat your eyelashes.

“Because one involves less tiresome actions than the other,” he winks as he walks out of the bedroom to grab you some things from downstairs.

You faceplant forward onto the comforter as you let out a loud groan, one that he could hear from the hall. “You’ll thank me later,” you hear him laugh.

You detested being sick. Not because you didn’t get to partake in certain activities, but because you felt like shit. You had never heard of a sickness that involved being tired, your taste buds acting up, throwing up, and having sore boobs. This was a strange combination of symptoms and it really was taking a toll on you and it would probably get worse.

But were you actually sick, or was this something else?

The Next Morning

You suddenly jolt awake from the feeling of your stomach churning and your body extremely hot all of a sudden. You unwrap yourself from Joe’s hold and run into the bathroom, feeling a burning sensation in your throat again and once again crouching down and emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You see Joe walk into the bathroom from the corner of your eye, crouching down next to you and holding your hair back while whispering sweet words to calm you down into your ear.

A few moments later you flush the toilet and wipe your lips with a piece of toilet paper, then fall back into Joe’s arms. “Mmm,” you whine as you hide your face in his chest as he rubs your back.

“Still not feeling better?” he asks.

“Mm, Mm,” you reply as you shake your head, a few tears falling from your eyes. You feel Joe shift around under you, then feel his hands around your legs and waist, slowly picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the couch, not a word coming from his mouth as he was doing this.

He carefully placed you on the couch, taking a few push blankets and setting them around you to keep you warm. He then brought over a glass of water for you and some anti-nausea pills and mints.

“Take these for now. I’m gonna heat up some soup for you to eat for breakfast and order some soup for lunch for you while I’m at practice so you can stay in bed all day. I’m also gonna stop at the pharmacy to see what other meds I can pick up,” he says as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank You,” you cooed.

“I love you so much,” he added after placing another kiss on your forehead. “You’re going to be fine, I promise,”.

“I love you more,” you smile as you kiss his cheek.

You watch as he walks over to the fridge, taking out the bowl of soup his Mom made for you last night to ease your stomach in case you felt nauseous again. You turn back around and pull the blankets up higher as you try to get comfortable. Although you hated Mama Bear Joe and the over-the-top antics, you loved when he would do these little things for you—as silly as it sounded. It was his responsibility as your husband to take care of you, but you still felt your heart explode when he would do so.

After eating the soup he made for you, Joe went upstairs to get ready for practice and then spent a few minutes with you on the couch to make sure you didn’t throw up again before he left.

He laid his head in your lap, your fingers playing with the soft strands of his hair as you felt his hot breath against your stomach.

“I really don’t want to leave you alone today,” he mumbled against your stomach.

“I know,” you sigh. “I’ll be fine though, don’t stress,”.

“I just feel bad that you’re sick and I can’t be here to take care of you,” he sighs.

You stop running your fingers through his hair which causes him to look up and meet your eyes, “Don’t feel bad, Joe. What my stomach decides to do when you’re not here is in neither of our hands,” you joke.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he says.

“I promise I’ll be fine. If I need anything I can call a friend or I’ll text you,” you smile.

“If you feel really bad, drive to the facility,” he says as he gets up from your lap.

“Don’t you think that’s a little too-,”.

“Drive to the facility,” he says again, giving you a look that tells you he means business.

“Okayyy, Mama Bear,” you joke as you kiss his cheek.

“Uhh, what about my lips?” he says as he raises his eyebrows. “I told you, I don’t care if I throw up,”.

You roll your eyes before leaning in and pressing two sweet kisses on his lips, feeling Joe’s smile through them both, and then a final one on his nose. “Bye Joe,” you say lazily, your tiredness peeking through.

He smiles at you and gets up from the couch, his gaze lingering on your face for a few seconds. He couldn’t leave you alone, he didn’t want to leave you alone. “Maybe I should stay,” he says as he sits down again.

“Joe,” you glare, now feeling a little annoyed at his overthinking.

“What?” he asks.

“Go to practice,” you say, purposefully lacing your voice with annoyance.

“No,” he denies.

“Joe,” you say, this time giving him a look that told him you were incredibly close to snapping.

“What if you throw up again?” he asks.

“I’ll take some medicine and drink water,” you shrug.

“And what if you get a fever or something,”.

“That’s what we have Tylenol for,” you laugh.

“What if you pass out?”.

He really wasn’t budging, was he? “Joe!” you yell, softly because you don’t like raising your voices at each other. “I love you, but please go to practice,”.

“Okay, Okay. I’ll go,” he says. “But if you need anything, and I mean anything, please call me,”.

“I will, I promise,” you smile, grabbing his hand and giving him a soft squeeze to hopefully ease his worries like how he did for you.

A few hours later

You stayed on the couch for about two hours so that you could fully digest the soup without doing anything to make you throw up again before slowly making your way upstairs to freshen up and take a nice long shower; the steamy warm water hitting your stomach provided much-needed relief.

You’re brushing your wet hair in the mirror when you see your phone light up from an incoming Facetime from your best friend. You pick up and prop your phone against the mirror before going back to your hair.

“Hey, Y/N,” she smiles.

“Hey, Soph,” you sigh, your voice heavy and tired.

“That’s not promising. You still feeling sick?” she asks.

“Threw up again this morning,” you say as you pursed your lips.

She stays silent for a few seconds, biting her lip and staring at you like you had two heads. “What?” you ask as you put the brush down.

“You know, the symptoms you told me you were having kind of sounds like something else,” she says.

“Sounds like what?” you snort, preparing yourself for another one of her wild theories.

“But I don’t know for sure because you’ve never mentioned it before,” she thinks.

“What?” you ask.

“Are you pregnant?” she grins.

You pause for a few seconds to let what she said register in your brain. “HA,” you yell a few seconds later. “That’s hilarious,” you say as you throw your head back.

“Y/N, I’m not kidding,” she deadpans, her tone making you stop laughing.

“Sophia, I can tell you for a fact that I'm not pregnant. I’m pretty sure it’s just a stomach bug,” you shake your head as you reach for your hair clip.

“Okay, but when was the last time you guys, you know,” she winked.

“Well, let’s just say we make sure to get our workouts in,” you say with a cheeky smile as you clip your hair back.

“Workouts?” she laughs. “Now I know what you mean to say whenever you tell me you can’t talk because you and Joe are about to ‘workout’,”.

A throaty laugh leaves your lips as you recall all the moments you’ve dodged your friend’s calls and texts with a “workout” excuse. Although, you did end up sweating and probably burning a few calories so it was pretty much like a workout.

“Anyway, hypothetically if you are pregnant and are having symptoms, you’d have to be pregnant for at least 4-8 weeks by now,”.

“Rightttt,” you nod slowly. Why were you even entertaining her theory? You couldn’t be pregnant, there was no way.

“What happened 4-8 weeks ago?” She asked.

“Uhhhh…,” you trail off, trying to remember anything significant. “My birthday was 5 ish weeks ago,” you say.

“Okay, so did you-,”.

“Oh yeah, we did,” you answered with a laugh even before she could finish asking the question, recalling that memorable night that had you sore for the entirety of the next day.

“Okay, have you been trying for a baby?” she asks.

You pause for a few seconds before recalling the conversation you and Joe had about this subject, “We haven’t been specifically trying but we talked about having a baby and everything a while ago and decided that it would happen when it was supposed to happen,”.

Flashback to September - A few days before the start of the season

You and Joe were lounging together on the couch, his hand in your hair, playing with the loose strands as you rubbed your hand along his thigh. You both longed for these calm and quiet moments when it was just the two of you wrapped up in each other's arms. This kind of one-on-one time would be significantly reduced once the season starts, so you both were making sure to get as much in as you could now.

“How do you feel about having a baby right now?” Joe asked, breaking the silence with something so deep and serious that completely went against the thought you just had of cherishing peaceful moments with just the two of you.

“Hm?” you asked as you turned your head to face him. “I thought we already had this conversation,”. You’d talked about the idea of wanting kids ages ago before you got engaged when you were talking to each other about your futures and although you had been married for over a year now, this was the first time the topic of kids came up as a married couple.

“Well, we did have this conversation,” he smiled. “But that was before we got married and it was just about if we wanted kids together. Now we’re married,” he said as he moved his hand to your stomach.

“Someone having baby fever?” you beamed as you pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Actually, I am,” he said, his face telling you he was being dead serious. “The thought of Baby Burrow running around the house sounds like a dream”.

“Really?” you question, a little surprised at his thoughts. You knew that Joe wanted to have kids with you at some point, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon since he’s still at an important point in his career.

“Really,” he says. “I love you more than anything on this earth and the thought of you having my baby makes me want to run around and scream. The thought of a little baby running around and screaming also makes me want to run around and scream,”.

You laugh at his childlike excitement then lean in to press a kiss on his pink lips, “I love that you’re so excited about having kids with me,”.

“Excited is an understatement, I’m Ecstatic. Having a baby has way more of an impact on you than it does me, so I wanted to see where you were at about it,” he adds.

“Well, we said we ideally wanted 2—one boy and one girl—but no more than 3 if another happens to come along. I think that still stands?” you ask.

“Yes, it does,” he nods.

“Wouldn’t things get too chaotic if I was pregnant during the season though?” you ask as you play with his fingers.

“If you were pregnant during the season, Baby B would arrive during the off-season so that lines up perfectly since I would be able to be around a lot more,” he said. “It would be a bit chaotic for a little because I would be thinking about you 90% of the time, but it’s better than having a baby during the season and you being by yourself,”.

“True,” you nod as you do the math in your head. If you got pregnant anywhere from now to December the baby would arrive between May and July, which would be perfect for you both.

“It’s all up to you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you for anything. If you’re not ready for that then that's okay,” he assured.

“It’s not that I’m feeling rushed, I just don’t want to rush you into anything,” you say. “I know how important these next few years are for your career and I don’t want you to feel like you have too many things on your plate,”. You wanted to have a family more than anything, but you also knew that what Joe was doing was incredibly important to not just him, but you also. If it was just the two of you for a few years, you wouldn’t mind, even if part of you wished it was the three of you.

“A family is a priority, not just something on a plate,” he smiles. “I told you that when I proposed too, remember?”.

Oh, you remembered all right. When Joe proposed, you obviously said yes. You couldn’t imagine spending the rest of your life with any other person, but you were a little hesitant about the idea of getting married while he was still chasing his first ring because you didn’t want to become a distraction for him when it came to his career. You felt awful for thinking that way, but once again, Joe fixed that with the snap of his fingers. He told you and made sure you knew that you weren’t just some “thing” in his life, you were a priority. You mattered to him more than football did and it would always be that way as football was transient, and you would always be there with him. You were his whole world.

When you first met, he knew instantly that he wanted to do everything with you. He wanted to be the guy who took you out on dates, showed you a love unlike any kind you had ever experienced, cleaned up your tears whenever you were sad, kissed you at every chance he got, and eventually be the man who proposed to you and married you. Lucky for him, all that happened. Now he wanted to take the next step, having a family with you.

“I remember,” you smile. “You made sure that I got that in my head,”.

“So just like you, a baby would become a priority. And I’d love to see my two favorite humans up in the suite watching their daddy play ball before he gets gray hairs,” he smiles.

“Their daddy? You mean the baby’s daddy?” you question.

He tilts his head and raises his brow, giving you a look that makes you throw your head back in a fit of laughter.

“Oh, I mean their daddy. We both know you use that name a lot in a different context,” he winks.

“Joseph Lee,” you shriek as you gently hit his chest while a blush creeps up your face. You stop laughing and stare at him for a few seconds, thinking about what life would be like with a little baby chasing you both around the house while calling you mama and dada. You could have a little family of your own that you would come home to every day. Endless mornings filled with laughter and precious moments as a trio, sleepless nights curled up with Joe in your bed as you stayed awake in case your baby woke up; a lifetime of love was waiting for you.

“Having a baby sounds amazing, Joe,” you smile as you tuck your head under his chin. “Being your girlfriend was fantastic, being your wife is like a dream, but being the mother to our child is the best thing that could ever happen to me,”.

“You’re going to be the best daddy to our little baby. I can’t wait for the day when Baby Burrow can see you out on the field, absolutely tearing it up and putting everyone on notice. I can’t wait for the day when they realize who their daddy is and see all the great things he’s done in his life,” you coo.

“Y/N..” he softly says, his heart bursting from your sweet words but also from the thought of all of that actually happening.

“The greatest thing I’ve done in my life is make you my forever,” his face turning a little red at the words leaving his mouth.

“Aww, Joe,” you say as your face turns into a pout, your heart now being the one bursting at his sweet words. “Everything you say makes me fall more in love with you,”.

“I feel the same way,” punctuating his sentence with another kiss. “We have all the time in the world to have a baby so there’s no rush obviously,” he smiles as he pulls you closer to him, resting his hand on your stomach.

“Agreed. Whenever Baby Burrow wants to come, it will,” you grin against his cheek. “We don’t necessarily have to try but we also don’t need to do anything to prevent it now that we’re open to it,”.

You feel his hand slide up to your chest, his other hand moving under your shirt and sliding up to the clasp of your bra. “Think we should get a head start on it?” he whispers in your ear, his voice incredibly husky and intoxicating.

“Sounds like a great idea,” you wink. “I’d hate for us to be slackers,” you say before you lean in and capture his lips in a kiss that ignited something inside of you both.

End of flashback

“Well, let’s look at the past few days. You feel tired, things don’t taste the same, you threw up twice and feel nauseous a lot, you’re bloated as hell, plus mood swings and cravings. Those are all typical pregnancy symptoms,” she nods. “How about your period?”.

You freeze when she says that, your face dropping and your body tensing up, “Fuck,” you panic. “I didn’t even check that,” you say as you grab the phone off the vanity and pull up your period tracking app. You sit down on the toilet lid and look at the calendar, your heart dropping when you see bright red letters that spell out “Late”.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling like your world just flipped upside down.

“What?” she asks.

“Ummm, I’m going to have to call you back later,” you say as you return to the FaceTime screen.

“Oh my GOD,” she screams. “Y/N holy shit-,”.

“Soph, I really gotta go,” you say as you get up and start looking through the baskets in the bathroom for any pregnancy tests.

“Okay, Okay. I’ll check in with you later,”.

“Thank you, I’ll call you later,” you say as you quickly hang up and throw your phone onto a pile of towels.

“Where are the tests when you actually need one,” you grumble.

After 10 minutes of searching every bathroom in the house, you couldn’t find a single pregnancy test so you decided to instacart a few tests to the house. You thought about going out and buying a few since that would be faster but you figured that word would get around town fast if Joe Burrow’s wife was buying pregnancy tests and if you actually were pregnant, you definitely were going to keep it a secret for a little.

You were now sitting on the floor of the master bathroom with a glass of water to calm you down, anxiously waiting for the tests to arrive. You were a little nervous even though you both knew you wanted this, but the thought of it actually happening was a little too real for you. You heard your phone ding across the bathroom so you immediately got up to check and see if it was a notification that the tests were here, but it was a text from Joe.

Joe: how are you feeling?

Anxious. You were feeling Anxious.

You: a bit better :) the soup helped

A lie. That was a lie. The soup did help though, but you did not feel better.

Joe: that’s good. i’m gonna swing by the store later and pick up some tums and pepto bismol tablets, you need anything else?

Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream would be great since that was what you were craving right now. But the weird thing was, you hated Mint Chocolate Chip. Was this a pregnancy craving?

You: mint choco chip ice cream would be nice

Joe: are you okay?

You: yeah.. why?

Joe: y/n, you HATE mint chocolate chip

You: i know but I feel like eating some right now. maybe it’s the stomach bug that’s craving it

Joe: so now the stomach bug is hungry?

You: seems like it

Joe: okay then, a tub of mint choco chip ice cream will be on its way in a few hours for mr. stomach bug

You: me and mr. stomach bug say thank you joeyyy

Joe: of course :) anyway, i gotta go back to practice. i’ll see you in a bit, make sure to drink a lot of water and eat the soup I ordered for you

You sent him a picture of you drinking a glass of water and as you were about to close your phone, a notification popped up that said “Delivered” which made your stomach do a backflip, but not the kind that made you feel like you were going to throw up. Instead, the kind that made you feel like your world was about to flip upside down.

“Shit,” you mumbled. You ran out of the bathroom and made your way downstairs to the front door to pick up the package, and then ran into the downstairs bathroom.

You ordered a ClearBlue digital test and a traditional First Response Test for the most accurate read. You spent a few minutes doing your business before flipping the tests upside down and setting a 3-minute timer. You sat down on the ledge of the tub, your leg bouncing up and down as you started to think about what would happen after you flipped the tests over.

If it was Positive, in 9 months you’d have a little baby in your arms and a family. A little boy or girl that you’d get to watch grow up and raise with the love of your life. Little hands wrapping around your fingers every night as you rocked your baby to sleep and adorable little laughs that would fill your quiet house every morning would brighten your day faster than a cup of coffee.

If it was Negative, there would be nothing. It’s not like you were trying hard to have a baby, but your heart would still hurt if all this anticipation and thinking was for nothing. You tried to not get your hopes up too much, but you couldn’t help but think about all the things that would happen if it was positive.

God, you wished it was Positive. You wanted to see that smile on Joe’s face when you told him you were having a baby for real. You didn’t want to have to tell him that you thought you were Pregnant but then found out you weren’t, that would break your heart again.

“DING”, the timer was up.

You took a few deep breaths before getting up from the ledge of the tub, walking over to the counter, and staring at the upside-down tests.

“Here we go,” you sigh.

You closed your eyes and flipped over the ClearBlue test. You slowly opened your eyes, the words reading “POSITIVE”.

Your heart skipped a beat at the words. Tears started to form in your eyes and your heartbeat increased, all at the same time. You quickly flipped over the Traditional Test, 2 bold pink lines visible on the slot.

You were Pregnant.

You dropped the test on the counter and broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face and your hands shaking. You were actually Pregnant. You were going to be a Mom and Joe was going to be a Dad. It was actually happening.

“Oh my god,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You pulled out your phone and took a picture of the tests, sending them to Sophia since she was the only one who was in on it at the moment. You placed your phone back down on the counter as tears kept falling from your eyes at the thought of actually being pregnant, your brain was in overdrive right now. In 9 months, you and Joe would become a family of 3. Your heart gushed at the thought of having a little baby of your own in your arms. Being a mother means experiencing and showing a different kind of love, and you can't wait.

How were you going to tell him? How were you going to hide this from the public? Was it a boy or a girl? So many questions filled your head, but all you could truly focus on was the fact that this was really happening.

“Holy shit,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes again. You look at yourself in the mirror, lifting your shirt and inspecting your belly.

“And I thought this was bloat,” you laugh through the tears as you rub your hands around the little bump that was forming.

“Hey little baby,” you say as you talk to your stomach. “I know you can’t hear me, but it’s your mama. Me and Daddy love you so much. He doesn’t know yet but you’re going to be the sweetest surprise,” you grin.

A few more hours later

You spent the rest of the day in bed, content and relaxed as you knew why you were feeling so off so you weren’t worried about it anymore. You spent a few hours scheduling your OBGYN appointment, researching some things that newly pregnant women should do and not do, and brainstorming ideas on how you were going to tell Joe. All the ideas you found seemed basic or overdone—none really sticking out to you—so you decided to wait a bit and see if anything popped into your head.

Currently, you were eating the soup that Joe had ordered for you while rewatching an episode of Stranger Things. He ordered you a Tomato Soup with a crisp grilled cheese sandwich, one of your favorite comfort meals, and go-to stomach bug remedy.

“Well now that I know that it’s not a stomach bug, I hope you enjoy this soup, Baby Burrow,” you whisper to your stomach as you hear the bedroom door swing open, prompting you to look up. You watched as a sweaty Joe walked into the bedroom, placing his practice bag on the floor before walking over to you.

“I didn’t even hear you come home,” you smiled as you paused the TV and placed your bowl of soup on the nightstand.

“How are you?” he asked as he sat down in front of you.

“Amazing,” you smile, feeling so much better after finding out the best news possible.

“Really? You seemed pretty low when I left,” he asks, incredibly confused at how your mood did a 360.

“I feel a lot better and way more energized than I did this morning. I took a nice long shower after you left and lounged in bed all day,” you say, trying so hard to not tell him the real reason as to why you were feeling better. “No nausea or anything,”.

“That’s great,” he smiled. “I’m glad whatever you have is passing quickly. You’re kinda glowing too,”.

“Mhm,” you lie. It in fact was not passing quickly and wasn’t planning on passing anytime soon. You look down and notice that he’s still in his compression shirt and workout shorts which is odd since after practice he would come home in a more home-like outfit, usually some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “Did you not take a shower before you left?”.

“Nope, I wanted to get to the store and get home as soon as I could to be with you,”.

He was so thoughtful, never failing to show how much he cared for you. The next 9 months were going to be perfect as you had the most extraordinary person by your side every step of the way. You pull Joe forward by his shoulder, letting his body cover yours again like last night as you melt back into the pillows.

“I’m super sweaty and you’re still not 100% better yet, Y/N,” he laughed. “I think this can wait,”.

“I have pure intentions,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. “And I can take another shower as long as I get my cuddles,”.

“You hate when I touch you when I’m sweaty,” he scoffed.

“Well, I guess I like it now,” you giggle as you press a few kisses to his cheek. Your hands travel down to his back, rubbing his soft skin through the thin fabric of his compression shirt

“In the 6 years that we have been together, you’ve never once willingly hugged me when I was sweaty and gross,” he says as he digs his head further into the crook of your neck. . It was true, you hated touching him when he was all gross and grimy, but you didn’t care right now. You just wanted him close to you, and now your baby as well.

“I just want you close, that’s all,” you smile.

“You okay?” he asks before he presses a delicate kiss to your neck.

“I’m great, maybe even a little over the moon,” you say as you bite your lip.

“Care to tell me why?” he says, pulling his head out of your neck and making eye contact with you. You could never lie to Joe; anytime you tried he could see you weren’t being truthful by just looking into your eyes.

Tell-tale eyes are what he called them, your eyes always gave it away. Your eyes gave away how you felt about Joe when you first met, which was that you wanted him more than anything on this planet. Your eyes gave away how much you loved him when he made one of your dreams come true by taking you on a trip to Ohio back in December when you were in college and driving you hours away to the beach just to see the snow falling, something incredibly weird yet breathtakingly beautiful. And now, your eyes were about to give away the fact that you were pregnant.

You break the intense eye contact and look up at the ceiling to avoid his eyes, the perfect lie popping up in your head, “I think Dylan is proposing to Sophia soon,”. This wasn’t really a lie but it was the perfect thing to hide the real reason why you were acting like this.

“Really? That’s great,” Joe smiled. “He’s a really cool guy,”.

“I know right? I remember in middle school when we would go on and on about our dream guys, our prince charmings, and I’m so glad she found hers,” you say as you move your hand back up to his hair.

“Did you find yours?” he asked, a solemn look on his face.

You gaze into his eyes for a few moments before leaning in and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss, “I found him and he’s even better than what I imagined,”.

“I love you,” he says against your lips.

“I love you even more,” you say as you pull his head back down to your neck, his arm moving around your waist. You feel him rest his hand on your stomach, completely oblivious to the fact that he is touching his child right now; the thought of that makes you smile even harder. You stayed like that for about half an hour before Joe insisted that he took a shower, even inviting you to join him but adding that there would be no funny business, but you said you would take a shower before bed so you could be fully relaxed.

You made your way downstairs, inspecting all the things he got you from the store. A variety of medicines–many of which will help combat the morning sickness you will be dealing with for the next few months–the icecream you requested, a box of dark chocolates (your guilty pleasure), a bouquet of baby pink and white tulips, and an adorable pink dinosaur holding a heart plushie. You smile at the treats he got for you before you feel a hand on either side of your hips and then a set of lips pressing kisses along your shoulder.

“Got you some things to hopefully make you feel better,” he mumbled against your skin.

“I didn’t even hear you come downstairs,” your eyes widened at the sudden touch, Joe laughing at your reaction.

“Put a bell on me at this point,” he jokes.

“Might have to,” you say as you turn around to face him, his hands still holding you in place. “Thanks for the goodies,” you smile.

“Of course,” he said as he leaned in for a kiss. “Although, I still don’t know why you wanted Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream. You always say it tastes like toothpaste whenever you take a bite of mine,”.

“Maybe it’s just my taste buds changing again? Everything I used to like a lot tastes gross, and everything I used to hate a lot tastes good,”. Part of that is possibly true, your taste buds could have changed a bit because you’re pregnant, but the ice cream was definitely the beginning of the strange cravings you were going to have.

“If that’s the case, maybe you’ll like crawfish now,” he smiled.

“Absolutely not,” you say, your face scrunching up in disgust. “I didn’t like it in Louisiana, and I sure as hell will not like it now,”.

“It was worth a try,” he said as he dropped his head.

You press a kiss to his face, feeling his scruff against your lips, before moving out of his hold and walking over to the cabinet to pull out a bowl for the ice cream. “Will ice cream make you feel better?” you laugh.

He looks up, contemplating for a few seconds before saying, “Ice cream and Mario Kart would make me feel better,”.

“Your wish is my command. Go sit down, I’ll bring you some ice cream,” you say as you pull out two bowls.

“Nope,” he says as you hear him walk over to you. “You go sit down. I will get us some ice cream,”.

“I got it,” you smile. You watch as he places his hands on his hips and tilts his head, this is his standing-on business pose and told you to not argue with him.

“Alright, Alright. I’ll go sit down,” you say as you throw your hands up.

“Good,” he says as he turns you around and lightly pushes you forward.

You sit down on the couch and turn on the switch to load up Mario Kart, one of your favorite games next to Smash Bros. You and Joe would always find yourself playing Mario Kart, and it all started on your 3rd date back in college. You get to the profile selection screen, seeing Joe’s ‘Mario’ profile and your ‘Princess Peach’ one which makes you remember when it all started.

Flashback to LSU

You were sitting next to Joe on the floor of his apartment, both your knees touching as you were heavily concentrated on the game in front of you. You were playing in the ‘Special Cup’ and were on your 4th map—Rainbow Road—and you two were neck and neck with each other.

“You’re going to lose slowpoke,” you smirk as you get in front of Joe, your competitive nature coming out.

“I never lose,” he smiles as he uses his boost to get in front of you, dropping a banana peel while he is at it causing you to spin out of control.

“Noo,” you whine as you repeatedly press the buttons on your controller to regain your form.

This was your 3rd date with Joe. Earlier he had taken you to the aquarium because you both were incredibly fascinated by marine life, and then lunch at your favorite taco place downtown. After, he invited you back to his place to watch a movie which then turned into playing Mario Kart once you saw his gaming stuff.

You met Joe through a mutual friend at a college party a few weeks ago, his intoxicating eyes catching yours from across the room but you were too nervous to make a move given who he was. Little did you know your best friend’s new boyfriend was good friends with Joe, so then you ended up meeting him for real. The first time you were face to face, you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes as they were bluer than the ocean. He made the first move, striking up an unusual yet entertaining conversation about whether pineapple belonged on pizza as you both were eating pizza.

You and Joe hit it off instantly as you had a lot of things in common and talking to each other felt so incredibly easy, you both wanted to sit there and talk to each other for hours and hours and would have if you were sitting someplace else. He was also the most gorgeous man you had ever laid your eyes on which made you want to get to know him in another type of way as well, but you kept that to yourself. Lucky for you, he asked you out on a date right after the party was over and naturally you said yes.

The 1st date went amazingly, then 2nd date was even better, and now you were playing video games with him in his apartment after your 3rd date. Joe was such a sweet guy, always paying attention to you and making it incredibly obvious that he really liked you. He thought you were the coolest girl he’d ever met and loved spending time with you because it always left him feeling more lively than he was before. You made him so happy.

You lean forward, your fingers rapidly dancing around the controller as you try to get ahead of Joe as you approach the final stretch of the map.

“How did you get so close so fast?” he said in disbelief.

“Told you, you’re a slowpoke,” you giggle as you pass him, the finish line in sight.

Joe scoffs and leans in, his fingers beginning to move around the controller rapidly as he tries to overtake you, but you are too good for him.

“Aaaannnnd, I win!” you yell as you make it to the finish line before him, Joe arriving shortly after. You laugh as you throw your hands in the air, watching as the screen shows your character Princess Peach with confetti and balloons around her and a congratulations message on the screen.

“Damn,” Joe whispers as he looks over at you looking absolutely precious as you celebrate your victory. His eyes trailed down to what you were wearing: one of his LSU football hoodies. He gave it to you after your last date because he took you to a drive-in movie and it was a really windy night and you felt cold; the fact that you wore it again made his heart swell.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that, Mario,” you smile as you move your legs underneath you and turn to look at him, Joe’s character being Mario and yours being Peach.

“Peach always ends up with Mario. I’ll get you sooner rather than later,” he winks, sending shivers down your spine. Was he talking about getting you in the game, or getting you in real life?

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?” you say as you raise an eyebrow, giving him a quizzical look.

“Because,” he says as he leans in a little closer to you, your cheeks feeling hot all of a sudden. “Mario really likes Peach and it’s only a matter of time before Peach confesses that she does too,”.

You felt your heart skip a beat when he was speaking. He was talking about the two of you.

“How do you know Peach likes Mario? I don’t think she’s ever said it,” you say, playing along with what Joe was saying.

“Yeah, she’s never said it,” he shrugged. “But Mario can see the way Peach looks at him and acts around him. Peach’s eyes give it away, her tell-tale eyes,”.

You lean in closer just like he did, “What is it about her eyes that give it away?”.

“It’s the way her eyes are always twinkling when she’s with Mario. Every time he makes her laugh or smile he notices that her eyes start sparkling and twinkling and he notices that they don’t do that when her friends or someone else makes her laugh,” he says, moving a little closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours.

He was right. The way you acted around Joe was different than how you acted around others. With him, it was different. Good different.

“Well, Mario must be doing something to make Peach act like that. Eyes only twinkle and sparkle when someone is feeling strong emotions,” you smile as you gaze into Joe’s starry eyes.

“Exactly,” he nods. “She must be feeling strong emotions towards Mario,”.

“I guess she is,” you say short of a whisper, your heart rate increasing as butterflies swarm your belly. You liked Joe. You liked Joe a lot.

Joe felt his heart explode when you said that. “I like you,” he blurted after leaning in even closer, his face just inches from yours.

“I like you too,” you smile as you look down at his lips and then back to his eyes again.

You feel him lift his hand off of yours and cup your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “I like you a lot,” he said again.

“I like you a lot too,” you blush.

You see Joe leaning in more, your palms getting sweaty as you know what is about to happen, but you don’t let your nerves stop you. You leaned in as well and a few seconds later your lips were now touching. Joe felt himself melt into the kiss as your lips felt like clouds against his, so soft and warm. His lips felt icy against yours, icy but soft at the same time. The warmth of your lips was radiating onto his and he felt amazing.

You lifted your hand and stuffed it into his hair as he reached for your waist and pulled you closer to the point where you were practically in his lap; the kiss now getting deeper with no sign of stopping in sight.

A few minutes later, you both pull away for some air, a big smile on both of your faces. “Your lips are so soft,” he said.

“I’m glad you liked them,” you blushed.

“I told you I’d get you sooner rather than later,” he said as he peppered kisses along your jaw.

“I’m really glad you did,” you said as you pulled his head back up and leaned in to kiss him again, Joe falling back against the carpet and bringing you down with him as you both smiled into the kiss.

End of flashback

You smile at the memory and then suddenly a lightbulb goes off in your head. This was the perfect way to tell Joe you were pregnant. You could make Baby Burrow his or her own profile on Mario Kart and the next time Joe opened the game, he would see it. You still had that sweatshirt he gave you that you were wearing the day you told each other how you felt about each other and could wrap the Pregnancy Tests in the hoodie. It was the perfect callback to what really started it all for you both.

“Here you go,” Joe said, breaking you out of your trance as he handed you a bowl and sat down next to you.

“Thank you,” you smile as you press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You ready for me to beat you again?” you giggle.

“Please,” he scoffs. “I told you, Mario always gets Peach and not just in real life. You ain’t beating me for shit,” he laughed.

“Oh, it’s on,” you say as you take a bite of the minty ice cream, which actually tastes really good.

The next afternoon

Today went by pretty quickly, Joe left early in the morning for practice and you had a fairly normal morning until you threw up halfway through your light workout session. Morning Sickness was going to get old fast. You took a nice bath after to calm down your nausea and to unwind which definitely helped. When you looked in the mirror after your bath, you saw that your belly was peeking out a little more which would definitely be noticeable if you were wearing a skin-tight shirt so you opted for one of Joe’s hoodies since they were super baggy on you. You read online that most women won’t show until their 8th or 10th week, but first pregnancies are different and you can show pretty early on which you thought was your case.

Joe ordered you soup again for lunch which was just as delicious as yesterday’s, and now you were sitting on the couch trying to work on your surprise for Joe when he got home which was in about 20 minutes or so.

You had found the sweatshirt he gave you–his Louisianimals one–and placed the two pregnancy tests in the middle of the sweatshirt and folded it inward so that he would see it when he opened it. You then placed it inside of a gift bag and hid it on the side of the couch.

You opened up Mario Kart and made it to the profile screen, contemplating on how you should go about this. There was no general ‘baby’ character, but there was a ‘Baby Mario’ and ‘Baby Peach’ and since you didn’t know if you were having a boy or girl, this was perfect. You made one profile ‘Baby Mario’ and named it “Baby”. Then, you made a second profile ‘Baby Peach’ and named it “Burrow”. Side by side they both read out “Baby Burrow” with the two baby characters.

“Hopefully this doesn’t make him think it’s twins,” you chuckle as you stare at the screen.

You hear the garage open, thanking god that this time you heard Joe come home otherwise the surprise would have been ruined. You quickly close up the game, switch the TV back to its normal screen, and then take a few breaths to ease up before he comes inside.

You watch him stroll inside, humming whatever song he was listening to in the car. He places his practice bag on the kitchen island before walking over to you on the couch. This time he was in sweats and a hoodie, meaning he took a shower before he left.

“Hey Y/N,” he said as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Hey, Babe. How was practice?” you smiled as you tried to contain your anticipation and excitement at what was about to happen.

“Really good,” he nodded before walking back over to the kitchen to grab water and some juice for you. “How are you feeling? I didn’t get any break time to check in on you,”.

“I’m good,” you said to him. “I felt a bit sick after my light workout but that’s about it,” you say, downplaying it because you didn’t want him to get worried again especially since the real reason for it is much sweeter than a stomach bug.

“You need any meds or anything?” he asks from the kitchen as he pours you a glass of pomegranate juice.

“No, I think I’m good for now,” you say as you play with the rings on your finger, you wanted him to hurry up so that you could tell him the big news as you were struggling to contain yourself.

He walks over with his water and your juice, handing you the glass before sitting down next to you and draping part of your blanket over him. “Thank you,” you say as you take a sip of the juice.

“Of course. My mom said pomegranate juice is the way to go with stomach bugs,” he said as he took a gulp of his water.

It’s also the perfect juice for pregnant women since it’s incredibly nuteritous and provides a lot of vitamins and antioxidants for you and the baby, but Joe didn’t know that.

“Something about Vitamins and Antioxidants,” he adds.

“Ohh, I know,” you smile, acting incredibly suspicious.

He looks at you, slightly confused at what you meant, but not bothering to dig at it. “So, what do you want to do this afternoon? I’m free the rest of the day so we can do whatever, nap, watch a movie…”.

“Mario Kart?” you ask, trying really hard to not give it away with your eyes and smile.

“Again? Even after you got your ass kicked last night?” he laughed.

“Listen, it was 1 bad cup! I’ve won many more than you can even count,” you whine.

“Okayyy,” he said as he placed his water down on the coffee table and grabbed the controllers. “If you say so but I better not get any sore loser talk if you lose again,” he joked.

“Deal,” you grin as you feel butterflies in your stomach while watching him turn on the Switch and load up the game.

“Here we go,” you think to yourself as you move the blanket off so you can easily grab the bag from the side of the couch where you hid it when you needed to.

The Switch turns on and Joe clicks the Mario Kart icon, passing you a controller before moving back into the couch and getting comfortable. The screen switches to the welcome screen and he clicks the play button, the screen now on the profile’s menu.

You feel the world stop, your heart stop, and your breath stop as you turn your face to Joe’s, carefully examining his expression.

You see him pause at the screen, his brows furrowing at the two new profiles on the menu and reading them over while looking at the icons above them.

“Baby…Burrow?” he muttered under his breath.

You notice the exact moment when he realizes what that means, his mouth slightly falling open as he turns his head over at you. You give him a smile before reaching for the bag you hid, pulling it up, and placing it in his lap.

“What–,” he begins to say before you interrupt him.

“Open this first,” you say as you nod to the bag you placed in front of him.

Joe quickly reaches into the bag and pulls out the hoodie, looking incredibly confused at why you were giving it to him. “Why are you giving me a sweatshirt?”.

“Open it,” you say as you place your hand on his knee. Tears started to form in your eyes as you watched him open up the sweatshirt, the 2 positive tests resting right in the middle of the logo on the hoodie. He picks them up and brings them close to his face, his eyes softening at what he was looking at and a smile forming on his face.

“Y/N, are you serious?” he asked as he looked over at you; his eyes were so incredibly delicate and glossy, and his lips curled into a beautiful smile. “You’re pregnant?”.

“Mhm,” you nodded, the tears now falling from your cheeks and down onto the couch. “Surprise,” you said in between tears.

“Oh my god,” he said as he looked back down at the tests before placing everything to the side and pulling you into him. “Holy shit,” he said as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his tears falling down and onto your shirt.

“I can’t believe it,” he said as he hugged you tightly. “We’re having a baby,” he laughed in between the tears. Joe felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest because of the news. He was going to be a dad, for real. And the most incredible woman he had ever met was about to be a mother.

“Are you happy?” you asked him, your tears falling even harder now.

He lifted his head and met your eyes, “I’m fucking amazing,” he said before pressing a kiss to your lips. “We’re going to be parents. You’re having our baby,” he said as he pressed a few more kisses to your lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,”.

“I love you,” you sniffle as you meet his eyes again, his eyes filled with a love that you’ve never seen before. Love for both of you, you and the baby.

“I love you so so much,” he said as he pressed more kisses around your face before releasing you from his arms.

He looked down at your belly and then looked up at your eyes again, you knew exactly what he was waiting for. You lifted your sweatshirt up, his eyes landing on your small bump.

“Oh my god,” he whispered as he reached out to touch your bump, but froze before his hand could lay on it. You saw his hesitation and took his hand and placed it on your bump, resting your hand on top of his.

“That’s our baby?” he said as he looked back up at you, your eyes twinkling and sparkling.

“That’s our baby,” you nod as you wipe your tears with your other hand.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your belly, your heart swelling at the adorable interaction.

“Hey little Tiger,” he said to your belly. “I know you can’t hear me yet, but it’s Daddy,” he said as he looked up at you again, a huge smile on your face. “I love you so much, Baby Burrow. Me and Mommy can’t wait to see you,” he said before pressing another kiss to your stomach and moving back up to you.

“This doesn’t feel real,” he said as he wiped his face before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed.

“When did you find out?” he asked as he looked at the tests again.

“Yesterday,” you said as you wiped your eyes again.

“So then the throwing up, tiredness, sore boobs, taste changes, and cravings are all..”.

“Pregnancy Symptoms,” you say as you nod your head.

“Damn,” he whispered. “I guess my Mama Bear antics were not helping since it isn’t a stomach bug,”.

“I guess not. But I love Mama Bear Joe and her antics and wouldn’t trade her for the world,” you grin.

“I’ll remember that because it’s about to get a whole lot worse for the next 9 months,” he laughed.

“I’m...No. We're prepared,” you say as you lean in for another kiss, this one a little longer than the others as you two enjoy each other's warmth.

“That was pretty clever by the way,” he said as he pulled away and pointed to the menu.

“You like it?” you ask as you bite your lip.

“Oh hell yeah. It’s a great callback to how it all started. Mario and Peach, but now with a Baby Mario or Baby Peach on the way,” he said as he recalled that afternoon in his apartment. “The sweatshirt I gave you too. You really thought it all out,”.

“I’m really glad you liked it,” you say as you feel more tears forming in your eyes. “And I’m so glad you’re happy,”.

He stared into your eyes for a few moments before carefully moving you closer to him so that you were in his lap. “I’m beyond happy, Y/N. I can’t wait to do this with you. I love you and our baby more than anything in the world,”.

“We love you too,” you smile as you drop your head to his shoulder, feeling his hand rub your back.

“In 9 months we’re going to have our own child running around,” he said, the thought still feels surreal.

“Well, I’d give it more time before little Tiger starts running around,” you laugh.

“Little Tiger has my genetics so we shall see about that one,” he smiled.

“I’m going to make sure that you don’t order any foam baby footballs,” you say as you pull your head out of his shoulder.

“Hey, I gotta teach them young so that by the time they’re 7 or 8 they have that future QB arm and love for football,” he said, slightly offended at your hesitation.

“We shall see about that one,” you say as you echo his words back to him. “No doubt about the love for football, but we’ll see about the future QB arm. Besides, what if we have a girl?”.

“Well, if we have a girl they have girl's flag football and I wouldn’t mind being an advocate for a girl's football team at whatever school Baby Burrow goes to,”. “Oh my god, we sound like parents,” he said as he rolled his eyes.

“I mean, we’re almost there,” you giggled as you moved his hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah, but we have 9 months. No need to get all parenty yet,” he said as he kissed a trail along your jawline and gripped your waist. “We’re still basically horny newlyweds since it’s only been a year and a half,”.

“Joe!” you shrieked, appalled at the words that came out of his mouth.

“Hey,” he said in defense of himself. “It’s true though. And I’m pretty sure you can have Sex while pregnant so we should be fine,”.

You drop your head back down to his shoulder before you both break out into a fit of laughter. “This is going to be an interesting 9 months,” you said.

“You can count on it,” he said as he rubbed the back of your head. “We’re going to have a lot of interesting firsts too,”.

“Mhm,” you nod. “First OBGYN appointment, first ultrasound, first heartbeat, first kick, first time baby clothes shopping, first time decorating a nursery, first time telling friends and family,”.

“God, I can’t wait,” he smiled.

“Me either. This is a dream,” you said as you pressed yourself closer to him.

“You are a dream, all of this is possible because of you,” he said. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest which made you want to cry again, he was truly happy.

“It’s only possible because I have someone like you with me,” you said as you kissed his shoulder. Joe was the best boyfriend, best fiancee, best husband, and now was going to be the best father. He was incredible.

“We’re going to be amazing parents, I know it,” he said as he thought about the next 9 months and then the many years after you would go through together as parents.

“Mmm, I can’t wait,” you squeal.

“I love you, Y/N, this was the sweetest surprise,” he said before he pressed a kiss to your forehead, both of you melting into each other’s embrace as you started to think about what the future was going to look like as a family of 3.

–The End–

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

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togrowoldinv · 3 months

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Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You find out about Natasha’s secret Instagram while she’s away on a mission

Note: Inspired by the romanoffthereal account Scarlett is definitely running lol. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

When you walk into the living room, you hear your oldest kids giggling. You smile at the sound, but your curiosity is piqued when you notice their attention is on a phone.

“What’s up?” You ask them. Ali drops her phone into her lap and they all turn to you. You raise a brow.

“Hi Mom,” she says. Her voice is sincere but her eyes don’t quite meet yours.

“Do I even want to know?” You ask, assuming it was something the kids wouldn’t want to spend time explaining why it’s funny.

The boys stand up as if on cue and excuse themselves with a little side hug to you. They’re getting older, but still remain sweet.

“Just ask Mama,” Ali says before running off too.

You shake your head in confusion. Why would Natasha know what they’re laughing at? She’s not even in town. A mission she didn’t want to go on pulled her away for a couple of weeks.

The rest of the day is spent trying to wrangle all of the kids. You don’t find anymore sneaky laughter sessions. Settling in for the night, you lie down and get on your phone.

That’s when you see your friend sent you a post on Instagram. It’s been a while since you opened the app, finding yourself way too busy with kids and with Nat not wanting too much of the family information online.

You open the message to see a picture of a Black Widow toy along with other Avengers. Before you even read the caption of the post, you read the message from your friend.

Is this your wife?

You furrow your brow in confusion. Clicking on the photo, you see the post is written in first person from an account named romanoffthereal.

Surely not, you type in response.

You examine the photo further and wonder if it really could be her. But surely she would’ve told you she made a secret Instagram. Right?

You try to sleep, but the cold spot in the bed next to you doesn’t help. You miss Natasha. Glancing at the clock, you decide maybe she’s getting up across the world.

Your contact photo of Nat always makes you smile. A silly selfie she took one day on your phone when you left it on the table. You click on it and wait for your wife’s voice to ring through.

Unfortunately she never picks up. You sigh and put your phone back on the nightstand. Sleep never comes around and soon it’s 5am.

You get up and start on breakfast for the kids. It’s a never ending process, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. The life you and Natasha have made is absolutely perfect.

As if she knows you’re thinking of her, Natasha finally calls you back.

“Hey,” you answer.

“Hi sweetheart,” she replies. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You sound upset. Plus, you called me in the middle of the night,” Natasha explains.

“You knew I was upset by me saying one word?”

“I’m a spy, baby,” she jokes. “And we’ve been married forever now. I have good news though.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“One second,” she says.

You wait for her to reply over the phone, but instead you’re met with the front door opening. Natasha walks in with a grin on her face.

Whatever fruit you were cutting is abandoned. You run over to her and hug her tight.

“It’s okay,” Nat says. “I’m back.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” Nat replies.

You kiss her lips and hold her tight once again. Soon, the kids wake up and everyone is so happy to see Nat.

By dinner time, she’s soaked up all of the love she can take. Nat escapes to some solitude to decompress from the mission.

You take her a plate of food to your bedroom. She’s sitting on the bed on her phone.

“So, I have a question,” you say. She narrows her eyes. “And I expect you’ll have an answer.”

“Okay,” she says, but comes out more like a question.

“Do you have an Instagram you didn’t tell me about?”

Natasha smirks. She’s been caught.

“Which one of those kids ratted on me?” She asks.

“Wait, it’s true?!”

“It was for fun,” Nat shrugs. “For the kids to laugh at. So who told you? Was it Jack? He never could lie to you.”

“It was not the kids actually,” you say. “Although, I did see them all laughing at their phone’s yesterday and Ali said to ask you why.”

Natasha chuckles and smiles softly at the fact that she made the kids laugh. She prides herself on being humorous, even in a nerdy way.

“My friend sent me the post though,” you say. Nat doesn’t smile at that.

“Shit, I thought I made it private.”

“No, baby. You know for a super spy, you’re really bad at using media,” you tease her.

“I’ll remember you said that,” Nat says, feigning seriousness.

You laugh and lean into her. Nat wraps you in a hug so tight you can barely breathe.

“I’ll delete it,” Nat says after a minute.

“The kids like it. Just have them help you make it private,” you suggest.

“Deal.” A minute later she adds, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” you reply.

“Mhm,” she hums.

You pull away from her just enough to look in her eye. She kisses you deeply. Her want for you is evident in her touch.

“The kids occupied?” She asks.

“I turned on a movie,” you say.

“Perfect.”

The two of you don’t waste a second getting reacquainted with each other. Life with her is perfect with her silly Instagram and all.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

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ihavethedreamies · 1 month

Text

Good Enough | Jisung

Park Jisung - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~6.3k [more than half is smut btw]

Pairing: Jisung x AFAB!Older!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Friends/Roommates-to-Lovers, Absolute Filth

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Summary: Jisung is tired of his noona treating him like her little sweet baby.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Noona, Sweetheart), Swearing, Very Dirty Talk, Kissing, Lots of Tongue, One Spank, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Rimming (Just a tad), Size Difference, Size Kink, Soft-Dom! Jisung (oof), Sub! Reader, Breeding/Creampie Kink, Overstimulation, Squirting, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill)

Author's Note: I had a mental breakdown while writing this lol. This might not acutally be the filthiest thing I have written, but it feels like it because of who it's for…for some reason. It's hard for me to believe that Jisung got so fucking hot, because I remember him sitting on Taeyong's lap, but he's a MAN now. i'll sit on his lap

P.S. FUCK

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"He's my precious."

"Your roommate is your precious?" Jisung heard voices creeping in from the living room. Groggily, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand, head peeking out of his blanket cocoon. He was still jet lagged after getting back from Korea, so it was about 3 pm.

"Yes. And he's not just my roommate-"

"He's your precious?"

"Yes. But! I was going to say he is my best friend…and my precious baby boy."

"Seriously? Isn't he only like two or three years younger?"

"My precious baby Jisung." He huffed at your coo, dropping his head back on his pillow in annoyance. For some reason his summer trip back home to see his parents triggered something in him. Jisung was suddenly extremely displeased with your relationship. He missed you horribly and you were pretty much the only thing he talked about. Once he was informed by his mother that he likely had fallen in love with you, he was…upset. More with himself at first for not realizing it, but then looking at how you two interacted, he got cranky. He was not your precious baby Jisung, he's a man dammit, had been for nearly four years. Did you see him that way though? Not even remotely. He was a step above a puppy, at least you accepted he was a human. But you constantly went on about how cute he was, and sweet, and 'a bean'; whatever than meant. You had even called him your son on a few occasions, and even though they were mostly in jest and unserious, now they really pissed him off. Jisung didn't want you to see him as your son (maybe give you one) but what really was bugging him barely made any sense. He had only heard you say it once, but it stuck in his mind…

"You realize half of the people on campus want to fuck him, right?" He was in his final year of college, and the only reason you were still in college was because you had stuck around to work for the IT department. Your friend's question was not news to him, but he was much too shy to go for any of the advances he had received. He was also much too in love with you, but he hadn't known that till literally the month before, but it made sense.

"Not allowed."

"Why?"

"Precious baby."

"He's not a baby, (Y/N). Not even close." You didn't reply for a bit, and he could vividly picture your distasteful expression.

"He might not actually be one, but he’s, my baby. My baby Jisung."

"(Y/N)." Your friend's annoyed tone was not nearly strong enough to match the levels he was feeling. Definitely not able to continue his nap, he sat up aggressively from his bed, kicking at his blankets before wrangling his comforter and throwing it onto the floor. Resting his elbow on his knee, he then rested his forehead on his hand, trying to breathe out his ire so he could leave his room without being visibly grumpy.

"My sister wants to ask him out."

"No."

"Why not?"

"No one is good enough."

"No one?"

"Nope, not even me." That was it, you said it. That simple thought was what really set him over the edge. You were the only one good enough, no one else could even be close to you in his eyes. Finally, the anger boiled over and he climbed off his bed, putting a sweatshirt on so quickly that he had to wrestle it in his haste. You kept the apartment so freaking cold… You must have heard him wrench his door open because your conversation immediately stopped. He stormed down the hall, even his socked feet were heavy on the laminate wood floor, so much so that when he came to the mouth of the hallway, you were looking at him with a shocked expression. You were sitting at the coffee table with your friend Hana, various papers spread on the surface while your friend studied for her graduate classes. Your green snake Squishmallow sat on your lap, and he wanted to grab it and throw it across the room, suddenly jealous with how close it was pressed to your chest.

"Ji?" It was clear you didn't think he heard your conversation, but Hana immediately realized, starting to gather her homework.

"I'm gonna go." She nearly shoved the papers into her folder and threw everything else in her bag.

"What? Why?" You turned back to her, and he then realized what you were wearing. Your slightly damp hair had moved out of the way, revealing the design on the back of your baggy t-shirt. It was his.

"Wait, Hana?!" You tried to get up and go after her as she dashed from your apartment, shooting Jisung a look as she shut the door. You had to shove the table to get up better, and even as you stood, you still clutched the plushie to you. Jisung exhaled harshly, storming forward and grabbing your Squishmallow and yeeting her onto the floor.

"Woah?! What'd she do to you?" You motioned to her with your hand, giving him a questioning look. You started to bend and pick her up, but his hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back up and toward him, making your balance falter. Your bewildered eyes scanned over his face, but you still had no anger in them. Not even annoyance. You couldn't get mad at your baby boy.

"Ji?" His big hand easily held your wrist, and you squeaked when he dragged you even closer to him, so much that you could feel his breath flutter your hair over your forehead. His brow was furrowed, lips pressed tight to each other, but he couldn't seem to meet your eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" Your other hand came up to brush some of your hair away from your face, only leaving it down to dry. Your fingers then moved to his face, trying to brush his bangs out of his eyes. Having you so close and seeing how far you had to reach made him realize how small you were. He was well over half a foot taller than you and he wondered how small you would look under him. When your fingers brushed his cheek, his other hand grabbed yours, easily swallowing it in his grip. Jisung held your hand, pulling it closer, and laid your hands over his heart. With his other, he yanked you the last little bit, so you were pressed to him, wide eyes rapidly scanning his face. Your head was tilted back, almost painfully so, still not recognizing what was happening. The hand around your wrist moved so his thumb could rub your skin till it pressed against your palm. Your gaze went to your hand then, shocked at how small it was compared to his, and you seemed to be registering how small you were compared to him in general. Did he really grow so much since you had met him four years before? Your gaze went back to his face, finally seeming to notice that his face had changed as well. Yes, he was still cute, but he had become devastatingly handsome, maturing into a…man. No, he wasn't a baby anymore, but you were in denial. Even then, pressed against him, even able to feel his toned muscles through his sweatshirt, you kept trying to convince yourself he was still your baby Jisung.

"Jisung?" You exhaled his name, so quiet that if he wasn't so close, he wouldn't have heard. Your eyes followed his when they flicked down to watch your lips move when you whispered his name.

"What makes you think you're not good enough for me?" His voice rumbled through you, its deepness shocking you for some reason. When had that happened? You were so thrown off by the pitch of his voice you barely registered his question.

"Huh?"

"No one else is good enough for me, because they're not you." His hand had dropped your wrist so his arm could wrap around you, and he pressed his cheek to the side of your head. He nuzzled your soft hair, the familiar scent of your shampoo soothing his anger some.

"What?" You stood still, stiff even, trying to process what was happening.

"I don’t want to be your baby Jisung anymore, noona. I just want to be yours." He was a bit surprised with his sudden eloquence, but he just chocked it up to all his upset burning away any shyness he had in the moment. The anger had faded, and he was just upset, tired again, praying in his head that you would get the fucking hint. Your hand, the one he let go, had rested on his chest for balance, then he felt your fingers clutch the fabric of his sweatshirt. With his fingers wrapped around your right hand still, he could feel that your pulse had quickened, and you were minutely shaking.

"Y-you…?" You swallowed hard, tongue running over your lips, mouth feeling dry.

"I thought I just had a crush on you. I don't. I love you." His softened voice floated right into your ear with how his head rested on yours. The back of your nose and throat burned as you swallowed hard, tears sparking in the corners of your eyes. When you hiccupped, sniffing, he flinched, pulling back from you. It was only just enough that he could see your face, his arm still around you, hand still in his over his heart.

"Noona." He sighed softly, dipping and kissing the corner of your eye where a tear had slipped down your cheek. Nope, that made it worse. You burst into tears, chest heaving, and he pulled you back into him. You were…dramatic sometimes. Cried easily. Too easily even. Jisung loved to tease you for crying at a commercial where a little girl brought a quilt out to her sheep in the barn close to Christmas. You also tended to cry around puppies.

"I-I…I-!" Your breath was heaving too much for you to really talk. His nose nuzzled your hair, and he kissed the crown of your head. You sniffed, taking a few deep breaths.

"I love you too." you whispered, if you spoke any louder your sobs would take back over. He didn't know, but while he was gone you were in a much similar situation. You went to visit your parents as well, but it was just an hour or so drive, not across the world practically. You missed him so much, and wouldn't shut up about him, but your mother knew you well enough to see read between the lines. Because it startled you, having romantic feelings for Jisung, you became even more dramatic with the 'baby Jisung' talk. He was your best friend, and so of course you loved him, but you couldn't admit you were in love with him. You were so worried about ruining your friendship that you just ignored your logical thoughts and pretended you hadn't fallen for him. Nearly fighting him when he pulled back from the hug again, you stayed pressed to him, not wanting him to see your face. Not only was it red from your blush, but it was also blotchy from your crying and your nose was close to running.

"Noona." He huffed a laugh, trying to get you off of him. You gripped his sweatshirt tighter.

"(Y/N)." Jisung was fully laughing at that point, partially from your actions and partially from how ecstatic he was that you loved him back.

"No."

"Noona."

"No." Finally, with a bit more force, he pulled back so you could see each other's faces. The warmest smile you had ever seen was on his face and you froze when he leaned in closer. His forehead bumped yours and his nose crinkled, cringing a bit at his own actions but it made you giggle, which made it all worth it.

"Since when?" you asked. He laughed bashfully, lips pursing.

"I didn't realize how bad it was till a few weeks ago while I was still in Korea. But…I knew before that. Something made me realize…"

"What?" You were shocked when his giddy but shy face fell into one of panic.

"W-what?" His face bloomed red, all the way to the tips of his ears and he tried to bow his head to avoid your gaze, but you could just look up into his eyes.

"Uh, well…" He cleared his throat, trying to pull back further but he didn't let your hand go.

"Jisung?" You pressed with a fake stern tone.

"I…had a dream." He faked a cough to try and hide.

"Yeah?" You were clearly not understanding that he was so reluctant to say what it was, because it was filthy. It even made Jaemin blush. The extreme embarrassment in his eyes when they finally met yours clued you in better. You stepped closer, a coy look spreading over your own face, and he took a step back. His hand was still holding yours though, so he wasn't that desperate to get away. He clenched his other hand into a fist, bringing it up and pressing his mouth to his forearm to hide his face.

"Was it something bad?"

"No! Uh…" With each step you tried to get closer, he backed up, till his back hit the wall.

"Was it naughty?" You teased, and he sneered at the cringey word. Your eyes, still a bit puffy from crying, were creased with amusement.

"Uh, I mean…"

"Do you we do something dirty?" Your head tilted up to look at his face as he tried to hide, fingers clenching yours jerkily, the digits desperate to wiggle.

"M-Maybe."

"What?" You smirked, trying not to giggle. You were always more open about sex stuff, not quite like Jaemin or even Donghyuck, but still more than him.

"No." He was throwing your method of deflection back at you.

"You know," you got up on your tip toes so you could whisper into his ear, "if you tell me, we can do it?" Your suggestion made his whole body freeze, blood turning to ice. He nearly gasped when his blood then rapidly heated, the sound of his pulse whooshing in his ears.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, needing to make sure because even just the slightest detail would reveal too much if you weren't. You nodded with a hum, then gasped when he switched your places, hand cupping the back of your head, so it didn't thud into the wall as he pinned you to it, his other forearm holding him up over your head. You could only blink in response, looking at the conflicted expression on his face.

"I don't want to hurt you." What the hell had he dreamt? You were dying to know.

"You won't." Jisung's eyes met yours, brow furrowed in worry.

"I could."

"You could, but you won't. Plus…" Your hands came up to mess with the strings of his hoodie.

"Sometimes a little pain can feel good." Jisung searched your face and saw the determination in your eyes. The hand on the back of your head dug harshly into your hair, tugging at your scalp and you gasped when his mouth sealed against yours. Your teeth clacked against his with the force of the kiss and you whined, trying to match his fervor. You couldn't. His leg nestled between yours, pressing close and against your core, and you had to stand on your tip toes. The fingers in your hair twisted the strands around them and he tugged harder, tipping your head back more, compensating for him looming over you. His knee hit the wall, his leg literally hitching you up an inch and you moaned at the pressure. Jisung snuck his tongue into your mouth then and your breath was rough out of your nose, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth. Panting hard, he pulled back, eyes searching yours. His arm against the wall moved down to your side, still holding him up but also pressing into your waist. The hand in your hair left, the tips of his fingers soothing the slight sting he left on your scalp, then cupped your jaw. Your face looked so small cupped in his palm and something carnal, feral, rose in him.

"You're so little, noona." Jisung's tone was nothing like you had ever heard from him. His hooded gaze focused on your mouth when his thumb easily pressed against your lips, his fingers still stroking the back of your head. You watched his brow quirk up when you took his thumb between your lips, sucking on it. You had expected a blush to erupt, for his voice to sputter and for him to pull back. No. He smirked.

"Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?" Your head had to tilt up once again when he pressed even closer, chest to chest, leg still wedged between yours. You wondered if you had soaked through your panties and thin shorts, and if he could feel it. Then again, he was in sweatpants, but you could feel the fabric clinging to your folds and he had only kissed you. Yes, his thigh was pressed into your covered cunt, but he wasn't moving you on it.

"Tell me?" you whispered when he removed his thumb, eyes focusing on the shine of drool left on it. If you didn't know him better, you would take his intense expression for anger, but even with knowing him so well, you couldn't read his face. Jisung slipped his hand off your jaw, fingers pressing to the back of your neck, thumb resting under your chin. His face came close once more so close his lips brushed slightly on yours as he spoke.

"I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk for the next three days. I want to fuck you so stupid you can't even speak, just whine and beg for more. I want to make you cum so much that your cute little pussy stings. I want you to swallow my cock and I want to cum down your throat." You were going to pass out, you were sure of it. With how quickly the blood rushed to your core, your head swam. Where had your sweet little Jisung gone? How long had he been thinking like that? He couldn't even meet anyone's eyes if sex stuff got brought up around friends. But his words were thick with lust, and they swam into your ears and fogged your brain like a drug. Your thighs twitched, body shuddering when a devilish grin spread over his gorgeous face. He wasn't cute right then; he was destructively sexy, and it took your breath away. You don't think you could ever see him as your sweet little friend again.

"What do you want, noona?" The pet-name even came out different, he said it with near reverence, the single word a one-eighty from the four words preceding it.

"I want…I need you to do anything you want to me." His grin fell, he groaned, and his tongue was back in your mouth. He could taste the candy you had been eating while you spoke those fateful words, eagerly circling your tongue with his. You keened a whining moan when the hand at your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing into your windpipe. Your breath hitched, somehow where he gripped it gave the same heady feeling without actually restricting your breathing. What stole your air was the pleasure you were feeling just from his kiss. Your hips jumped, desperate for some friction, grinding your covered pussy against his thigh. Helpfully he pressed into you more, lifting you against the wall more, the weight of gravity pulled you onto him harder. The arm at your side that had been holding him up moved, he was using his knee then for balance, and his fingers teased along the waist band of your shorts. You whimpered when his hand continued, sneaking its way into the back of your shorts and panties, the hot pads of his fingers meeting your slick folds. You shivered and took heaving breaths when he removed himself from the kiss. His other hand was still at your throat, but he released the light pressure, making your heavy breaths easier to control.

"You're soaked, noona. For me?"

"Fuck, yes, Jisung." Expecting a kiss when he moved closer once more, he gripped your jaw, tilting your head back, thumb hooking your bottom lip. You let him move your jaw, holding your mouth open, waiting for his next move. His grin broke when he let a glob of spit fall from his lip and into your awaiting mouth. Without needing a prompt, when his thumb left your mouth, you swallowed.

"Good girl, noona." Slowly, he pulled away from you and the wall, stepping back only enough that he could take his hoodie off. He went ahead and let his shirt underneath go along with it and your heart leapt.

"Fucking hell." You gasped, reaching forward to eagerly run your fingers over him. While he wasn't necessarily to the level of Jeno or even Jaemin, for having a dancer's body he still had muscle. When had that gotten there? He barely wore anything tight let alone without sleeves, so you had no idea. He felt a wave of bashfulness rising, so he took control once again, pulling your small hands from his skin.

"Off." He prompted and you grabbed the hem of his shirt you were wearing, and he finished the job, tossing it down the hall. Clicking his tongue at your bra, you started to reach around your back to undo it, but he beat you to it. With an easy flick, it snapped open, and you let it drop, wide eyes staring at him. Where the fucking hell had he learned to do that?

"Jaemin." He must have read your mind and that made plenty of sense. Not able to even process your next move, he scooped you up easily, pressing you back into the wall. You squeaked, wrapping your mostly bare legs around his waist, fingers digging into his shoulders, he was more or less eye-level with you then. He dropped you a bit, preferring you under him more, and his nose nuzzled under your ear. He felt the goose bumps rising on your skin against his, his top just as bare as yours. His hands once again buried under the waist band of your shorts, fingers so long that the tips slipped out the leg holes of your panties, cupping your ass perfectly.

"God, Jisung!" Your body twitched when his light nuzzles immediately turned into open mouth kisses, then he sucked hard, working the skin with his lips and teeth. Popping off of your neck, his tongue ran over the flesh, blood rising and pooling at the surface. The fingers on his shoulders tightened, the blunt edges of your nails digging into his skin, and his own hips jumped then. You had been trying to ignore the tent in his pants, but he grinded his hardened cock against your cunt, only a few layers of fabric between. Jisung seemed to be big in every way.

"You still on the pill?"

"Yes, why?" You shuddered once more as he licked at the third hickey he left, that one on your collarbone.

"I need to fuck you raw." He groaned as your cunt throbbed, easily feeling it against his cock even with the clothing barrier.

"Want to pump you so full, my cum's dripping out of you for hours." Your eyes rolled back as you whined, head thrown back. You squeaked when he jostled you up higher, those beautiful and surprisingly sinful lips sucking in a nipple. Sighing at the feeling, he wasn't pleased with the gentle noise, and so he nibbled the peak instead. You yiped like a dog (ironic since he was planning on fucking you like one), a little dazed by how high up the wall he had you. Despite the altitude, he seemed to be easily holding you up, though he was able to use the wall for help. When his mouth moved to your other breast, he smirked at the red and swollen nipple he left. Your body felt like it was on fire and you both still had your pants on.

"Can I fuck you raw, noona? Feel your pussy cling to my cock?" His mouth was at your ear again, having dropped you back down to an easier level. His dick hadn't even entered you and you felt too stupid to talk.

"Please." You mewled and your submissive tone made him groan. Jisung's hands left your shorts, shoving them down off of you as he partially let you go. Your feet dangled slightly as you toed off the last of your clothes, then you yelped as he slung you over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

"J-Jisung-!?" You yelped as his hand smacked your ass, most likely leaving a big red print on your skin. The sting of the spank sent tendrils of fire right to your cunt as he stormed down the hall toward your room, your bed bigger than his. You flinched at the slam of your door as he closed it, huffing as he nearly dropped you.

"Knees." He prompted, ordered, and your body instantly obeyed. Going down the rest of the way to the floor, you sat with your knees in an 'M', gazing up at him with big glossy eyes. You were trying hard not to gape at the bulge in his sweatpants, or to run your gaze hungrily over his bare torso.

"Go ahead, noona." He nearly laughed at your eagerness, quickly reaching for the waistband of his pants and pulling them off, his hard cock bobbing in the air before you. Your wide, enraptured stare on his dick gave him a rush of nerves and pride all at once. While you came to terms with your fate, he shoved his sweatpants to the side, and you shuffled forward. Whimpering, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, big and pretty like him. Swallowing your eyes met his.

"C-Can I grab something?" Your request threw him off, but he nodded, and you scrambled up and to your nightstand. Trotting back over, you stood demurely before him, holding the item out with both palms up. He took the little bottle from you, looking at it.

"Throat numbing spray?" His brow crooked and he looked at you, biting your lip with a giddy glaze over your eyes. It still had plastic wrap on the nozzle. Nodding once, you sank back to your knees, and he groaned low when you opened your mouth wide, tongue out.

"Why do you have this, noona?" His tone was slightly patronizing as he tore the plastic off, then spritzed the watermelon flavored spray into your mouth. Swallowing a few times, the dull sensation you could even register faded, leaving a very minute feeling in your throat.

"Guess." You giggled, hand wrapping back around his cock. Jisung buried his hand in your hair again, tugging hard to make you look back up at him.

"You've used it before?"

"I'm not a virgin, Ji." Your normal, casual tone didn't sit right with him in the moment, and he twisted your hair again, the stinging twinge making you moan softly.

"Only for me now?"

"Yes." You nodded to further emphasize your point, and his grip loosened. With a much softer hold on your head, he pressed you closer, letting you take over. Swallowing a buildup of saliva, your tongue swirled around the head of his dick, the salty taste of his precum eagerly lapped up. He was barely half-way in your mouth when the head hit your numbed throat, your jaw protesting some already. His eyes shut as he groaned, only fluttering open to watch you take his cock even deeper down your throat. The spray helped you not to gag, and you swallowed over and over, holding your breath, your nose pressing to his groin. Your hand fell, landing next to your other one as you pressed your hands to the floor. Pulling back enough that you could breathe, you twisted your head like a curious dog, eyes searing into his.

"Ready?" You moaned and his hands were back in your hair, hips jumping, burying his cock back inside your throat. Despite the numbing, tears sprung to your eyes, a slight gag leaving you. Holding still like a good girl, Jisung pumped his fat cock into your mouth and down your throat, breathing harshly through your nose when you could.

"Fuck, you feel so good, noona." He sighed, head thrown back, making sure not to use full force as he rolled his hips. Even with him holding back, you could feel the strength of his movements and you felt a puddle of wet forming on the laminate floor under you, cunt clenching around nothing.

"You better swallow it all, (Y/N)." He tried not to whimper, but he couldn't help it, letting you inhale deeply before burying his cock all the way into your gullet, pumping thick strands of hot cum down your throat. Your core spasmed, eyes fluttering as you eagerly swallowed over and over, the heat of his release warming your chest. When you woke up that morning you never dreamed you would be eagerly swallowing Jisung's cock as he came buckets down your throat. As the last little wave died, he quickly removed his still half-hard cock, brow furrowing with worry as you gasped for air. Tears were flowing down your cheeks, face red and messy, but you opened up, tongue out, to show him you obediently swallowed every drop.

"You're so fucking good, sweetheart." You gasped softly, the pet-name going straight to your needy cunt. Jisung used his index finger to gather the saliva and pre that had dripped down your chin, letting you lick it off.

"Get on the bed, it's my turn." As soon as his finger retracted, you stood quickly, albeit shakily and went to stand by the bed.

"W-which way?" His hands on your shoulders turned you to face the bed, back to him. With a shove, you fell onto the mattress, chest pressed to the surface, hips bumping the end of the bed. You then heard a light thump, and his hands were back on your ass.

"Fuck!" You gasped as his thumbs spread your soaking folds, blowing a stream of air against your fluttering core.

"Did you cum when I did, sweetheart?"

"Y-yes."

"Good girl." You could hear his smirk, then you cried out as you buried your hands into the sheets, his tongue burrowing into your hot cunt. Jisung easily held your hips still, his arm wrapping around the front of your legs, his free hand splayed over the small of your back. When his tongue left your pussy, it swirled over your clit, and he sucked it in once before running through the slit of your folds and wiggling back inside. He did this a few more times, eagerly drinking your slick.

"Fuckfuckfuck." You shuddered, not even able to warn him as your next orgasm hit, much stronger than the small one you had not even five minutes prior. He held you down as your body shook, gummy walls fluttering and throbbing around his tongue.

"You taste so good, noona." You nearly heard him lick his lips, pulse still whooshing in your ears.

"A-ah?!" You squealed when his hands parted your ass cheeks, his tongue moving up from your soaking cunt and swirling over your pucker.

"J-Jisung!?" You gasped harder, not sure how to feel about the sensation. Grateful you took a shower not even two hours ago, you still weren't really expecting his tongue to go from your pussy to your ass.

"Don't worry, noona. I just wanna taste today." He lapped over your pucker once more, then pulled back, huffing in amusement at your still twitching thighs. You were already tired, he could tell, but he was painfully hard again. Jisung's thoughts ran rampant as he tried to decide how he wanted you as he fucked you first. Your pose would do just fine.

"Hm, so wet, sweetheart." He stood so he could lean over you on the bed, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other hand leading his cock to run through your folds. You knew it was big in your mouth but feeling it at your entrance made you shiver. As the head of his cock started to breach your gummy walls, the burning sting made you sigh in delight, the heat of his skin scorching through you. Breathing hard, trying to relax, your cunt fluttered still as he buried deeper, slowly. His deep, low groan faded into a chuckle as he watched your pussy suck in his cock. At the last inch, he snapped his hips, filling you fully, head pressing into your cervix.

"Ah, FUCK!" You white knuckled the sheets, toes curling, forcing you to tip toe, his pelvis pressing to your hips. You breathed raggedly, getting used to not just the burn his fat cock forced from your walls, but the stinging pleasure the same burn forced through you. You hadn't been fucked in way too long, and you were already sure no one would ever feel as good as Jisung did right then. You had needed him, not just any guy, but him. That's why you hadn't tried looking for a date, your subconscious knowing you needed your sweet friend to rail you stupid. Jisung breathed hard as well, trying to let you get at least a little used to the stretch, but your sticky, wet heat felt too good.

"I need to move, (Y/N)."

"Please~" You whined, squealing with delight as he pulled back no more than halfway, then slowly back in. It was like he sucked the air out of you, then forced it back in, but his next thrust made you see stars. As he leaned over you, hips battering your ass with hard, shallow thrusts, his hands laid over yours, weaving his fingers through yours. The sweet move was overshadowed by his animal pace, your whimpers and squeaks just as feral. He was still trying to hold back some, but when he couldn't hold back a hard snap, he felt the same flutter as before and ground his cock into you as you came, spurts of slick coating his groin and balls as you squirted over him. Your shudders and pulses lasted nearly twice as long and when you finally laid still, he started back up himself. Your cunt stung slightly, not ready for the friction once more, but the pain just fueled the pleasure. Without the bed underneath you, you would have melted onto the floor, no strength left. Wanting to protest when he unwound your fingers, he fell forward, his bare chest to your back. Not too tightly, he wrapped his arm under you, across your collar bone, then chest, pulling you up just enough that the arm around you restricted you, forcing your elbows to your hips. Your nails dug into the fabric under your lower stomach, Jisung easily holding you up just a bit from the bed. His other arm also snaked around you, his hand laying over your lower stomach. You were sensitive there, more than most people, and just the pressure alone made you mewl. Jisung pressed harder, able to feel the bulge of his cock below your skin and as he settled into position, you realized why he was holding you so tight. He was holding you in place. His next thrust started with only the head of him inside, then he barreled his cock back into you, fucking you with abandon. You gasped, not able to even squeak or moan, mouth open in a silent scream, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth.

"Ji-Jisung-! Please, fuck!" You breathed out, your next orgasm washing over you, leaving the friction painful. The pain crested hard and fast as he continued to pound into you, fading back into pleasure. So much of your release and wet spilled from your fluttering cunt that it dripped onto the floor, down both of your thighs.

"I'm going to cum, noona. Fill you up, yeah?" He whimpered deeply, almost groaning, hips faltering just slightly.

"Yes, yes, Jisung!" He dropped both of you to the bed then, pressing you down into the mattress, gouging his cock as deep as he could, and pumping your protected womb and cunt full of hot cum. It spurted out in globs with your own cum, dripping a bigger puddle on the floor, the hard pulse of his cock even stronger as he filled you. Your vision blurred, ears ringing as you came once more, grateful that he stilled, actually really hurting at that point. Reveling in his full weight on your back, he then registered he was laying on you like that and pulled up just a bit.

"You okay?" He nuzzled the back of your ear.

"S-stings." You got out hoarsely.

"Ah." He winced with you as he pulled his still half-hard length from you, more globs of jizz and slick leaving your cunt.

"I don't think I'll walk for four days." You muttered. It took him a second to register what you meant, before he burst into laughter, pressing his sweaty forehead to your shaking shoulder.

"Good enough?" Jisung asked, making you hum.

"Fucking perfect."

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