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starsinthesky5 · 2 months ago

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nothing's gonna hurt you baby || joe burrow x reader

description: the first game of the season doesn't go as planned and it kills you to see joe like this. you can't help but feel deja vu...

a/n: ahem, is this thing on 🎤🎤. i'm backkkkk… after a much-needed tiny break (not planned just life getting in the way). this is a little something i cooked up! still working on "taste" which is a slow work in progress but that's the main next fic that'll be coming soon!

as always, thanks for reading & showing love :)))) i hope this wasn’t too much yapping and nonsense lol. the smut isnt my best because i wrote it while i was half asleep but i hope you enjoy it. there’s also plenty of song references throughout the fic (biggest one and the inspiration being this CAS song)

warnings: angst, fluff, smut. that's literally the whole fic :)

word count: 12.2 k

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You leaned back against the wall across from the entrance to the locker rooms, anxiously picking at a thumbnail on your finger as you waited for your boyfriend to come out so you two could go home. You were standing in your orange halter crop top with a little '9' embroidered on the bottom left side and matching white jean shorts with the same '9' embroidered in orange on the back right pocket. The '9' on your shorts was a little bigger than the one on your top which Joe loved because according to him ‘everyone knows who your ass belongs to’. His adorable possessive nature was always something you admired and appreciated. He was very secure in your relationship and knew nobody would take you from him, but that didn't stop him from ensuring everyone knew you were his at any chance he got.

You were also wearing orange stiletto knee-high boots which adds to the overall orange vibe of your game-day outfit. The theme was 'open in orange' so you were wearing as much orange as you could possibly make look cute. Your '9' necklace was the only piece of jewelry you had around your neck, and your wrists were decked out with bracelets given to you by Joe–each one even more polished and expensive than the previous one, and various rings on your fingers. Your favorite one, the beautiful promise ring Joe gave you for your 2nd anniversary, shined brighter than any of the jewelry you had on. It was a ‘secret garden’ inspired ring, one of your favorite books of all time.

There was a growing pit in your stomach as you stood there gazing at the large ‘B’ on the wall outside the locker room, a slow-burning sensation that started about two minutes into the game, and it was only getting bigger as the minutes passed by. By the end of the game, you were the most on edge you had ever been in your entire life.

Since this was Joe's first real game back after his wrist injury, your anxiety was already pretty bad by the time you got to the stadium. Your brain was swarmed with 'what-if?' scenarios and it was eating you alive. Joe, however, seemed the exact opposite of you. He was completely calm, normal, and focused like this was any other game. His peaceful temperament wasn't surprising since he had always been like this before every game but it also should've been expected since he worked through most of his emotions with you the night before and didn’t have anything left to get out. You on the other hand did a complete 360; you were so calm with him last night but right now you were on the verge of ripping your eyelashes out.

Flashback to the night before

You reached over to grab your glass of water, taking a big sip to help wash down the spicy chicken you were eating for dinner. You looked up at Joe as you were swallowing your water, noting how he was playing around with his food on his unusually full plate. You had been eating for almost 15 minutes and by now, his plate should be empty given how much of an animal he was once dinner rolled around.

“Not hungry?” you broke the unusual silence and asked.

Joe's eyes glanced up to meet yours, his cheeks burning because you took note of his behavior, which you weren't supposed to. “Uhh, not really,” he sighed as he placed his fork down and leaned back in his chair, his sweaty hands sliding up and down his thighs out of nervousness.

“You do know you have a game tomorrow, right?” you chuckled as you placed your fork down and leaned back in your chair like he was. “You need all the protein you can get,”.

“...Y- yeah, I know,” Joe mumbled after a few seconds of uneasy silence.

You instantly noticed the change in his body language at the mention of the game; the way his eyes fell down to his lap after his mumbling response, the way he started bouncing his left leg, his shoulders tensing up a little bit, the way he was constantly doing something with his hands as if he was uncomfortable, the way he was chewing at his bottom lip. These were all things Joe did when he was feeling anxious.

But why was he anxious?

“Hey, you okay?” you asked while leaning forward again, his body language making you worry.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he swallowed, still not meeting your eyes. He knew all it took was for you to get one look at his eyes to figure out he was lying and he really didn't want to burden you with his complicated emotions tonight.

“He’s lying,” you thought to yourself. The fact that he was avoiding eye contact with you was a dead giveaway. “Joe?” you said while lowering your head to get into his view.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice slightly trembling as he finally looked into your eyes.

“Why are you lying to me?” you said as your face dropped at the sight of his tired eyes and shaky voice.

“I’m not ly-,” he began to say before you interrupted him.

“Yeah, you are,” you interrupted. “I know you, remember. I know you better than you know yourself,” you softly laughed.

You weren’t wrong there, you did know Joe better than he knew himself and he was the first one to admit it. You knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly how to put his feelings into words even when he couldn’t do so himself, and exactly how to handle him. There was a reason why you were the only person he let into the bubble that he had around himself once football started back up. You were his shelter in the hurricane that became his life once he was back on the field and without you, Joe would be a mess.

Your response earned no reaction from Joe, he just sat there in silence and continued to bounce his leg up and down as he started to play with the wristbands on his wrist, yet another anxiety-related mannerism.

You let out a tired breath, “I’m not doing this, I can’t have him shut me out again,” you thought to yourself before scooting your chair back, walking around the dining table, and sitting down on the seat next to him. You turned your chair to face him and grabbed his hands, feeling the thin layer of sweat that coated his palms which made your heart hurt.

“Joe, it’s just us right now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, talk to me,” you said while giving his hands a soft squeeze. You were feeling deja vu right now, you found yourself in the same situation you found yourself in many times over the early months of the off-season, only then it was 10 times worse than it was right now.

Joe looked into your eyes, his body feeling heavy as self-doubt, anxiety, and fear crept into his mind. He was nervous about tomorrow’s game. Joe had never been nervous about a game like this and you were sitting in front of him, trying to get him to talk which you shouldn’t need to ‘try’ to do, he should be openly talking to you right now about his feelings. He always let you into the bubble, so why was it so hard for him to do it right now?

He realized that he was shutting down again, just like he had when he first got injured back in November. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, especially since coming out of it was a struggle that affected you both very badly. “I’m scared,” he choked out a few seconds later, trying his best to push through the wall he was unknowingly building again.

“Why?” you quietly asked as you felt your heart shatter because of the tone of his voice. You hated seeing him like this, it broke your heart to see him like this. You moved your hand up to cup his neck, the pads of your fingers were softly rubbing his tan skin which was a gentle action that you knew would calm him down.

“It’s my first game back from injury. An injury that could’ve easily ended my career. It should’ve ended my career,” he said while lifting his hand to wipe a stray tear from his eye.

“But it didn’t,” you smiled. “It didn’t end your career then and it won’t end your career now,”.

“How do you know that? I haven’t played in a real game since November. I haven’t gotten hit yet, I haven’t gotten sacked yet, and I haven’t been putting that much pressure on my hand. Tomorrow could easily be the last game of my career. Just one wrong move and-,”.

“No.” you interrupted. “You’re not doing that. Not on my watch,” you sternly said, trying to prevent him from getting too far inside his head about everything. Overthinking was his worst enemy.

“I’m being realistic, Y/N. Who knows if I’ll be the same Joe I was before,” he said while blinking away a few tears.

“You don’t need to be the same Joe you were before,” you soothed while continuing to rub his neck. “What you went through was unlike anything anyone has seen before, if people are expecting you to get right back to where you left off then they have no heart or brains. You’ll get to where you need to be, I promise. Things like this take time,” you added. “The Joe you are now is more than enough. You have grown in many ways that you might not have been able to unless you went through what you went through after November. You’ve worked on yourself and become more open, honest, and loose. You’ve put in the work on the field, in the weight room, in training, and even at home. You’re coming out of this a better person and a better player. A better Joe,”.

“I just don’t want to let anyone down. What if we lose tomorrow? With the slow start narrative getting louder and the aftermath of my wrist injury, this could be really fucked. This year is so important and I just don’t want to let anyone down; the organization, the team, the public, you,” he continued, his grip on your other hand becoming tighter. “I know I have a chip on my shoulder and have a lot to prove this year, but the thought of people not seeing that is killing me,”.

“You won’t let anyone down, Joe. And you could never ever fucking let me down, never say that again,” you said as you continued to rub his neck, seeing that he was getting more loose from your touch. “You’ve worked so so hard the past 10 months to get back to where you want to be and everyone and I mean everyone has seen that. I’ve seen that. Adversity always makes you better, it ignites that fire inside of you. That fire makes you who you are,” you said to him, feeling a little more comfortable yourself after seeing his body relax a bit. “Remember who you are. You’re Joe Burrow. Heisman winner, College Football National Champion, the first overall draft pick, one of the Top 5 quarterbacks in the league, one of the highest-paid quarterbacks, Ohio’s golden boy. You’re all of those things for a reason, Joe. You have it in you. You don’t need to be afraid or doubt yourself because you did all of those things, nobody else, just you,”.

You moved your hand over and wiped the tears that slowly were sliding down his cheeks before feeling Joe grab your hand and press a wet kiss to your palm. “I love you,” he sniffled. “I genuinely don’t know what I would do without you,”.

“I love you too,” you smiled before you leaned up to kiss his forehead. “Tomorrow is unpredictable, I will admit. But you control the narrative. You control what happens and what doesn’t happen out there. It’s just you and the football like it always has been. I know you and I know you’re going to kill it,”.

Joe gave you a small nod as he let your words sit inside of his head; you were right and he knew you were right. He did all of this himself, he single-handedly built his reputation and although there was an immense amount of pressure on him to maintain it, he knew that it was his reputation. He had control over his story, not anyone else. He didn’t need to work at anyone else’s speed except for his own. He knows the narrative that the media has been running with since November, that his career has been hindered by continuous injuries and he’s ’injury prone’. He knows what that title has done to the public's opinion on his career and rank as a player, but they don’t get to define him based on what they think. He is defined by everything he does himself.

It’s not their story, it’s his.

He reached out and placed his hand on your waist, gently pulling you from your chair and into his lap. You instantly looped your arms around his neck and pushed his head to the crook of your neck, this warm hug from you was the final thing he needed to fully calm his nerves. “You always know what to say to me,” he mumbled against your collarbone as you ran your fingers through his slightly grown-out frosted tips, his hands softly massaging your plush skin.

“It’s my job,” you chuckled. “I signed up for this when I met you at that football practice all those years ago and I plan on staying true to what I signed up for as long as I can,” you added before you dropped a kiss on his cheek, your mind calming down once you felt him relax against you.

“You better plan on it. I’m not letting you go anywhere,” he said as he pulled you in tighter.

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t want to go anywhere,” you giggled in his ear before pressing a kiss to it, then turning back to serious to finish off your little pep-talk. “I’m so proud of you, Joe. More than you’ll ever know. You’re truly the hardest working man I’ve ever met and you continue to amaze me with your dedication and determination every single day. Never think that you’re not good enough and you’re not who everyone thinks you are. You’re Joe Fucking Burrow. Never forget that,”.

“I won’t,” he sighed contently, finally at peace. “I won’t forget,” he said again before he pulled you closer and closed his eyes, getting lost in your palliative embrace.

End of flashback

You were so calm last night and now you were the complete opposite; you couldn’t figure out where and when things went south with your emotions. During the game, your brain was running a mile a minute as you thought of everything that could go wrong: Joe re-aggravating his injury, someone else on the team getting badly injured, and the team not being able to beat the slow start narrative. You were anxious, nervous, and deeply scared once the first quarter of the game started, and your feelings were validated when two minutes into the game Joe got sacked and fumbled the ball.

You remember your heart stopping once you saw him go down as this was the first time he had been hit since November.

“No!” you screamed as you shot up from your seat, your hand gripping the necklace around your neck as you looked down on the field and saw a bunch of large behemoths on top of him. “No, No, No,” you panicked as your breaths got shorter, your anxiety getting worse and worse as you saw flashbacks from the Ravens game in November. “Please be okay,” you thought to yourself as you were on the verge of tears.

Then you remember your heart dropping to your feet once you saw the ball come loose and even though he recovered it, this whole play left a bitter taste in your mouth since it was literally the first few minutes of the game and things were already not going as planned. Luckily, his going down didn’t seem to affect his wrist, but you could only imagine how it affected him mentally.

You thought that would’ve been the only sack of the game, but once again you were wrong. Each time Joe went down, you felt your heart stop. Each time he ran, your heart stopped again as you got flashbacks from early last year with his calf injury. Each time the camera panned to the sidelines and focused in on him, you felt like crying because you could tell the way the game was going was eating away at him by his facial expressions.

Every sack, every fumble, every drive that ended without scoring, and every turnover was killing you because the things Joe feared were happening even though you told him they wouldn’t. Seeing him flex his wrist on the sidelines and in between plays was the one thing that really did it for you. You didn’t know if this was just to keep his hand loose because he was feeling some tightness or whether this was because something was actually bothering him, your brain was in panic mode for the rest of the game.

“I hope he’s okay, that was ugly,” you thought to yourself before you jumped at the sound of the locker room door swinging open and snapping you out of your daze.

You watched as Joe walked out of the locker room, his eyes exhausted and defeated as he gave you a small ‘reassuring’ smile, however, it wasn’t very reassuring because his eyes gave his true feelings away in an instant.

You returned his smile with a smile of your own, opening your mouth to ask him if he was okay but before you could he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on your lips. He held it for a few moments as he melted into your touch which was the only relieving feeling he had felt all day before pulling away, entwining your pinkies, and leading you out to the car.

“That’s not good, he’s never this quiet when I come to meet him after the game,” you thought to yourself. If you didn’t say something first, he almost always did, but he wasn’t saying anything which was concerning. You stayed quiet as he led you out to the garage, your eyes not leaving his weary face for one second. You could tell he wasn’t okay, you could tell he was beating himself up over today’s loss.

A few moments later, he led you over to the passenger’s side of the car, an unusual move since you always drove the both of you home after a game. “I thought I was driving,” you gently said as you looked up at him.

“I got it,” he said with no emotion in his voice, dropping your pinky and looking into your eyes with his now cold and emotionless ones.

“But Joe I-,” you began to say but before you could finish your sentence he turned around and walked to the other side of the car.

“He definitely heard me,” you thought to yourself as you watched him open the backseat door and roughly throw his bag in, then slammed the door shut with a little more force than usual which startled you.

You let out a deep breath before opening your door and sliding into the passenger seat, your body stiff and frozen because of the way he was acting. You were scared to say something, scared to do something because you didn’t know what reaction you’d get from him, “He’s not doing this again, right?” you worried.

10 minutes into the drive home, you started getting agitated. He had yet to say anything to you, not even asking you if you were cold and if he should turn down the AC which he always asked you whenever you were in the car since he knew you got cold easily. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were practically turning white and his eyes were so locked in on the road in front of you that he hadn’t even noticed that you started shivering a little bit.

“Are you okay?” you finally broke the tension and asked, your bottom lip in between your teeth out of nervousness. Joe rarely ever raised his voice at you or got irritated by you saying something to him, but that didn’t stop you from getting nervous around him whenever he was acting like this.

You saw his jaw clench for a brief moment, your heart skipping a beat as you braced yourself for a potentially explosive reaction, but then you saw him unclench it. “I’m fine,” he said, once again with no emotion in his voice.

You gave him a small nod and then a few seconds later asked another question since he wasn’t budging, “How’s your wrist?”.

He let out a sigh, one that you could hear from his nose so it was definitely coming from a tired place, “It’s fine,” he said again, not giving you much to work with.

“He’s not fine, lying yet again. Maybe I could make him laugh? I need to do something to get him to loosen up” you thought to yourself, your brain scrambling to think of something to make him laugh even if it was for a brief moment.

“At least you guys scored a touchdown this time,” you smiled a few seconds later. “Even though you didn’t win the game, I’d say it was better than week 1 last year against the browns,”.

You studied his face carefully after you finished your sentence, searching for any tiny muscle movement that resulted in his lips curling up into a smile, but nothing. “Yeah,” he nodded, once again with no emotion. He then reached over to the center console, turning the knob for the volume up so that the once softly playing music was blasting throughout the car.

You felt your lip quiver and your eyes started to pool with tears as you continued to look at him, praying that he would look at you for even one brief moment, but he didn’t. “He’s doing it again,” you thought to yourself as you fell back into your seat. “He’s fucking doing it again. Just like he did after he got injured. He’s shutting me out,” you thought as you felt a tear slide down your cheek, your head turning away so that you were looking out the window so if Joe did happen to look over at you, he wouldn’t notice your silent tears.

Joe did look over at you. He was waiting for you to stop looking at him because he couldn’t look into your eyes right now, not when his brain was all over the place and he could regret the things that potentially came out of his mouth. He looked over at you when he saw you turn your head to the window from the corner of his eyes, his eyes softening when he saw your body shaking. You were cold. He always asks you if you’re cold, and this time he didn’t.

“I fuck everything up,” he muttered under his breath as he reached over to turn the AC down.

30 minutes later

After a car ride filled with deafening silence, you made it back home a half hour later and were pouring two glasses of water for you and Joe. He was sitting at the kitchen island behind you scrolling on his phone, still quiet as ever. You grabbed his glass and placed it in front of him, getting a peek at what he was looking at on his phone.

Media reactions.

Joe never looked at what the internet was saying about a game after it happened, it was one of his ‘blocking outside noise’ methods, so why was he looking at them?

“You really shouldn’t be looking at all that bullshit,” you said to him as you took a small sip of your water, the cool liquid feeling like a quiet unraveling of tightness within your body.

Joe was so focused on his phone that he didn’t notice that you were talking to him, the only things that he could hear were the voices of reporters talking about the team’s constant slow starts, his poor performance–saying that he played scared, rusty, and didn’t look like himself and that this team is constantly setting itself up for failure.

A video came up on his phone, an analyst was talking about his performance in today’s game, “We have to talk about Joe Burrow. He said he was ready, he said he felt great, and he said that this team was ready. But did that Cincinnati Bengals team that played against the Patriots today look ready? Absolutely not. Did the Joe Burrow who stepped out onto that field look ready? Absolutely Not. He looked scared, he didn’t look like himself. The lack of Deep Balls, the lack of throwing down the field. That’s not the Joe Burrow we’ve seen in years past. What’s truly going on in Cincinnati? Is there a deeper issue within that we aren’t seeing?”.

“They see right through me,” Joe thought to himself, feeling his eyes sting from the hot tears that were threatening to come out. He felt like the room was on fire, and there was invisible smoke. Nobody could really see what he was going through, all they saw was the burning room.

You felt your heart drop as you heard the reporter talk about Joe’s performance in today’s game, knowing that Joe was probably already criticizing himself and this was going to make it worse. “Joe?” you said a little louder, snapping him out of the dark haze he was stuck in.

“Hm?” he hummed as he looked up at you, noticing your pursed lips and worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” you asked again, feeling uneasy from the look he had on his face.

“...I said I’m fine,” he replied, his voice a little rougher than earlier.

You shook your head, “I know you’re not fine. Stop lying to me,” you said with a more rigid tone.

“I’m not lying to you. I said I’m fine. I don’t think it could be more simpler than that,” he rolled his eyes as he picked up his glass of water, taking a big sip.

“If you are really ‘fine’,” you say, making air quotes around ‘fine’, “Why are you looking at all that bullshit? You never look at any of that because you say it messes with your head,” you say.

“Because I can?” he scoffs, standing up from the barstool and walking around the island to place his water glass in the sink.

You take a deep breath, trying not to point out his snappy attitude because you know he isn’t in the right headspace right now. “Joe, seriously. I know you’re not fine but it’s just me. You can talk to me,” you gently say as you walk over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder but he quickly turns around and walks back over to where he was sitting to grab his phone which made your hand drop from his shoulder.

“I know you had a shitty game, I know you’re in your head about it, I get it. Trust me I do, but just let me-,” you begin to say as you walk over to him before he interrupts you.

“Do you though?” he asks. “Do you really get it? Sweet talking and hugs don’t magically make everything better, Y/N,” he says, his voice a little louder.

“Ouch.” you thought to yourself. “No. Remember, he’s not in the right headspace, Y/N. He’s not trying to be hurtful,”.

“I’m not saying that,” you say to him. “I know that doesn’t make everything better but talking to someone about your feelings does. You know that. You spent weeks working on that, remember?” referring to the therapy sessions he had this past off-season to work through the emotional and mental effects of his injury and just overall mental health.

“I know, but I said I’m fine. I don’t need to talk about anything, especially with you,” he said, his words feeling like a punch to your gut.

“Okay, what the fuck?” you thought to yourself. “What do you mean ‘especially’ with me?” you asked, your tone switching from gentle to slightly angry.

Joe stays quiet for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on the concerned look on your face. He knew what he was saying to you was most likely hurting you and you were coming from a place of worry, but he couldn’t control the things that were leaving his mouth right now. “I’m not doing this with you right now,” he shook his head and turned around, walking over to the stairs.

“Doing what?” you said loudly, following him over to the stairs. “I’m just trying to get you to talk to me but you’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be,”.

“How am I making this a bigger deal?” he grumbles, turning around to look at you. “You’re the one that won’t leave me alone. I’ve said that I’m fine to you like 5 times now,”.

“You’re making this a bigger deal because you’re shutting me out, again,” you say, feeling your cheeks burn with anger, frustration, and sadness. You and Joe hardly fought, and whenever you did, it broke both of you. You felt like absolute shit right now and you couldn’t even imagine how Joe was feeling.

“No, I’m not. You’re being unbelievable right now,” he rolled his eyes again and started walking up the stairs with you hot on his tail.

“No, I’m not,” you say, echoing his words. “You are shutting me out just like you did after your wrist injury. What happened to letting me in your bubble? Because right now it feels like I’m being pushed 100 feet from your bubble for no reason,” you said, your voice a little shaky as you tried to hold back your building tears.

“I’m not shutting you out, Y/N,” he said loudly, his voice even more rougher. “Just because I don’t want to talk to you about how shitty I did today doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out. I just don’t want or feel the need to talk to you about it,”.

“See, you aren’t okay. I knew you weren’t okay. You know you played like shit so you’re clearly not fine,” you huffed as you made it to the top of the stairs.

“Is that all you wanted to hear? That I played like shit? Okay, yeah, I played like absolute shit. You win. Now will you leave me alone?” he said, trying to hold back from shouting at you even though he was dancing on the line that separated shouting from talking loudly.

“That’s not what I want to hear, Joe. You know that,” you said, your voice cracking once you felt a hot tear slide down your cheek. “I just want you to talk to me about your feelings, especially after our conversation last night. I don’t want you to go through all that again because I know how hard you tried to move past this mentally. You shut me out before and dealt with all of this on your own, and I saw how badly it affected you. I don’t want you to do that again. I can’t see you like that again,” you cried, your body shaking as all of your built-up emotions from the entire day were coming out.

You wiped your eyes as you followed him down the hallway, both of you walking past your bedroom and heading toward his office. You made it to the door and watched him open it and step inside. You were going to follow him in, but he turned around on the doorstep which blocked you from going inside. “No,” he shook his head.

“But..Joe I-,” you cried harder.

“No. Just please go away,” he said, his jaw clenching again like it was earlier, but this time it stayed clenched. “I can’t deal with you right now,” he said, his words feeling like a stab to your heart now.

There was nothing behind those eyes now. He had built up that wall again, that wall you tried so hard to prevent from being built because you knew you’d never be able to get over it. The same wall that he had built back in November after his injury. He did it again. After working so hard to be more open and honest about his feelings, thoughts, and emotions, he went straight back to square 1.

“Joe, please,” you pleaded. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, if you just talk to me,” you cried more forcefully.

Joe stared at you for a few heartbeats, his heart-shattering at the sight of the state he had brought you to. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault; the game and now this argument. Deep down, he knew you were right, but he just couldn’t see it because the wall he had built was too high.

He was about to open his mouth to say something, trying to listen to you and talk to you about how he was feeling, but he backed down once he saw you start to shake. He saw your distressed face, your red eyes, your trembling lip, your shaking body, and your rapid breathing. He knew this was all his fault. If he unloaded all of his incredibly heavy, intense, and dreadful feelings on you right now, that would be so incredibly selfish of him.

Joe backed up in the doorway which made you think he was letting you come inside, but just as you were about to come in, he shut the door on your face.

You stare at the closed door for a few seconds, not processing what just happened. He really wasn’t letting you in. After all that, after everything he went through? After everything you both went through these past 10 months?

“Do you know how scared I was the entire game? Do you know how every time you went down my heart stopped? Do you know that I spent 5 minutes crying in the bathroom during halftime because I saw the look on your face?” you shouted at the door, your sobs getting louder. “I know this is hard for you but I’m here, Joe. I’m always h- here,” you choke out.

“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Joe shouted through the door, tears sliding down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut because he instantly regretted saying that to you especially with that harshness in his voice that he knew would hurt you.

You backed up from the door once you heard him shout at you, he never shouted at you, not even when you had arguments worse than this. You looked around the hallway, trying to collect your thoughts but there were none left to collect. You said everything that you could’ve possibly said to get through to him, what more was there left to say?

He wanted you to leave him alone, so you were going to do just that.

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone,” you whispered to yourself, turning around and walking to your shared bedroom, your sobs echoing throughout the house as you disappeared inside your room.

On the other side of the office door, Joe was sitting in his office chair, hot tears sliding down his cheeks as he was drowning with regret. He lamented saying those things to you, he doesn’t know what came over him. What was wrong with him?

“Why did I do that to her? Why the fuck did I do that to…her?” he sniffled. He knows his anxiety and fears are controlling him right now, but there was absolutely no reason for him to take it out on the one person who always is there for him no matter what.

“I fuck everything up,” he cried as he looked at a photo of the two of you sitting on his desk, a photo his mom took after he got his wrist surgery.

Flashback to November 27th

“Babe, can we go skydiving?” Joe laughed as he rolled his head against the pillow to look at you. He had just woken up from surgery so he was feeling the effects of the anesthesia, and boy were they funny. The things that were coming out of his mouth were nothing but lighthearted, pure fun. It was good to see him laugh and smile especially since how melancholic his attitude had been since he got injured.

“Absolutely not,” you said while giving him a serious look. “You are not jumping out of a plane as long as I am on this earth,”.

“But why not? They have parachutes,” he pouted. “I think it would be sooooo fun,”.

“This is the same man who hates flying. Can you believe it?” Robin laughed as she finished typing up a text to send to family members to let them know the surgery went really well.

“I know right?” you laughed with her.

“How long did they say I can’t do stuff with my hand for?” Joe asked you with his adorable wide-eyed stare.

“I think they said to have it in a sling for at least a month right now until your first follow-up,” you said as you brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“A month?” Joe dramatically gasped, his jaw dropping to the floor.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Sorry baby, you’re not Deadpool and can’t heal within 5 seconds,” you smiled.

“Wait, does that mean we can’t have sex for a month?” he gasped again.

“Joe!” you shrieked, your cheeks turning red because his mom was right in front of you both.

“Ah, wait. Loophole, duhh. You can just be on top which I know you love,” he winked while using his finger to point at you for emphasis.

“Oh my god,” you whined as you hid your face in your sweatshirt sleeves, hearing Joe’s mom break out into a fit of laughter.

“Hey, don’t hide your pretty face from me,” Joe pouted as he used his good hand to lower your hands that were covering your face. “Ahh, there she is. My beautiful, adorable, sexy-as-hell, fiance,” he said after you uncovered your face.

“Fiance?” you raised an eyebrow and asked. “Is this your way of proposing?” you giggled.

“No. When I actually do, it’ll be way more grander, sexier, and special than this,” he winked. “Like I’m talking maybe on the top of the Empire State Building, maybe in the middle of the football stadium, maybe at the top of the Eiffel Tower, maybe even while we go skydiving type special proposal. But I know I’m marrying you and I like the word fiance better than girlfriend,” he laughed.

“You’re insane,” you laughed as you dropped your head to his chest, feeling him cup your head with his good hand and drop a kiss on your head.

“I love you like a lot,” he giggled. “Like a lot a lot,” he giggled again.

“Ohh, I know,” you cheesed.

“You definitely don’t. I love you more than words can describe,” he smiled, you craned your head up to look into his sweet eyes before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Burrow,”.

After you pulled away you were about to get up from his hospital bed but his mom spoke up, “Wait, stay like that. I’m going to get a picture,” she smiled.

“Yesss,” Joe nodded. “I loveeeee pictures, especially with my fiance,”.

“You are really something,” you giggled as you sat up straight.

You moved your hair back and helped Joe scooch up in the bed before turning your head and pressing a kiss to his cheek, placing your hand under his chin as he had a giant grin on his face. His good hand was wrapped around your waist and was holding you as close as possible to his body.

You two were so happy. For once this past month, you were laughing, you both were smiling.

“Are you going to be my protector for the next few months?” Joe giggled. “Not let anything bad happen to me and my wrist?”.

“Oh, 100%. I am your nurse, personal bodyguard, and protector. Nobody is hurting my man on my watch,” you grinned again as you smothered his cheeks with kisses.

You both knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but as long as you were by each other’s side, nothing was going to hurt you.

End of flashback

“Nothing’s going to hurt me as long as she’s with me. I can’t keep pushing her away,” Joe whispered to himself as he snapped out of the sweet memory and wiped his tears.

2 hours later

It had been two hours since your fight with Joe so it had been two hours since you had last seen him. After going into your bedroom earlier, you spent about 10 minutes crying in the bathroom as you tried to change into some comfier clothes. You felt awful about the whole thing. The way you lost your cool a few times, the way he was talking to you, just everything–it was horrible.

You were currently sitting on the couch, sipping on some water and scrolling through some photos on your phone of the two of you. You let out a small laugh when you came across a silly photo of the two of you at a Hurricane Party you dragged him to at LSU. You remembered he was fully against the idea of going to a party during a hurricane, saying it was ‘batshit crazy’ and a ‘death wish’ but you managed to drag him along with you because you didn’t want him to sit inside and stress about the storm. In the photo, you two were standing on the deck of your friend’s house, the wind blowing so hard against you that Joe’s hat was flying away, and you with the hat you were trying to catch. His hand was tightly gripping onto yours and there were silly, drunk, lovesick smiles on both your faces as you were being soaked from the rain.

“We’re insane,” you sniffled, realizing how batshit crazy it really was to party during a hurricane.

As you were looking at other photos, you heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. You looked over at the bottom of the staircase, seeing Joe coming down in comfy clothes and wet hair which meant he showered and came out of his office at some point.

“At least he wasn’t in there for the entirety of these two hours looking at stuff from the game,” you thought to yourself.

Joe met your eyes as he walked into the room, seeing how red and puffy they were which was yet another thing that made him feel like absolute shit. He turned his head away at the same time you turned yours and walked into the kitchen, pulling out a glass from the cabinet.

He started pouring you a glass of water, adding a few ice cubes because he knew you loved to chew on ice after you cried. At first, he didn’t understand the correlation, but then you explained to him that the ice has this cooling effect that can reduce heat and swelling around the face that happens after crying for a while.

He grabbed the glass from the counter and slowly walked over to the couch, standing in front of you and holding the glass out. “Here,” he softly said, his voice just as heavy as yours which told you that he was crying too.

You slowly looked up at him, noticing that his eyes were also red and puffy. He definitely was crying too.

“Thanks,” you quietly say as you take the glass from him, taking a big sip and letting the ice cube float into your mouth.

“At least he remembered the ice,” you thought to yourself, appreciating the fact that he added them.

You start to chew on the ice as you see Joe plop down on the couch next to you, your body freezing up because you remember everything he said to you earlier. You knew he was coming from a place of anger and guilt, but it still hurt. Joe noticed you tense up next to him, because of him, and that felt like a knife to his heart.

You both stayed quiet, staring at the random re-run of an episode of Friends that was playing on TV, but your minds weren’t focused on what was happening in the show. They were focused on each other.

Joe felt his bottom lip start to quiver as his eyes once again pooled with tears, all of his emotions were coming out again. He fucked things up with you so bad tonight that he didn’t even know how to fix it. He hurt you. You were just trying to help him for his own good and he shut down on you. He shut you out. The one and only person that he let into his bubble. The one person he needed in his bubble.

His brain was already crowded with anxiety and fear regarding football, but this was the worst thing out of everything. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, he didn’t want to deal with this on his own.

You heard soft sniffles come from beside you so you looked over, your heart shattering again as you saw Joe on the verge of tears, his eyes so red and his lip trembling like he was trying to hold it together.

He didn’t need to hold it together, not around you. You knew that. You needed to make sure he knew that. “Come here,” you whispered to him as you put your arm around his shoulder and pulled him into your chest.

Joe immediately snaked his arm around your waist and rested his cheek against your chest, letting his tears fall from his eyes onto your pink tank top. You wriggled your hand into his frosted tip hair, scratching his scalp and pressing kisses to his head as he cried harder into your chest.

You hated seeing him cry, but you knew he was feeling a lot right now and he needed to get his feelings out and this was the best way for him to do it. “It’s okay,” you soothed as you rubbed his back. “I’m here,”.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m s- so fucking sorry,” he cried harder. “I didn’t mean to yell at you, I didn’t mean to say all of that horrible shit to you. You don’t deserve any of that, you were just trying to help,”.

“I know, baby, I know,” you said, blinking away a few of your own tears. “It’s okay,”,

“No, it’s not okay,” he said. “This is all so fucked up. I fucked everything up,” he sobbed.

“No, you didn’t,” you said to him as you continued to rub his back. “You didn’t fuck anything up, Joe. Everything’s fine,”.

“I did. I fucked up in the game and then I fucked up things with you. Nothing’s fine,” he sniffled.

“Listen, Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby. As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine,” you said to him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Like I said earlier, I’m right here. Just talk to me,”.

“...You’re right,” he sniffled, breaking through the mental wall he had built. “You belong in my bubble, I can’t keep you out of it,”.

“So don’t,” you said, pulling him in tighter.

“I’m scared,” he breathed out a few seconds later. “I feel guilty about everything. This game was supposed to be different. I was supposed to be different. I feel like all of this was my fault because I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was. This was my first game back and I played like absolute shit out there,”.

“Oh, Joe,” you said as your face dropped as well as your heart.

“I disappointed everyone. Most importantly, I disappointed you. Even after everything you told me last night, I couldn’t do it. Everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong and I didn’t do anything to fix it,” he said as a few more tears fell from his eyes.

“You didn’t disappoint anyone, Joe. Nobody expected you to go out there and play like you had a completely normal year. You went through so much with this injury, obviously things weren’t going to go back to normal in one game,” you gently said. “And you could never disappoint me. I told you, I know you. The public doesn’t know you like I do so they’re going to run with whatever bullshit they want as an explanation for why the game went the way it did. I know why things went the way they did, I’m not disappointed in you at all. I’m proud of you for going out there and doing what you did today,” you said as you pressed another kiss on his forehead and moved your hand back up to his soft hair.

“I just feel like I had the shinest wheels, you know? There was so much hype and fire around me when I first got drafted, but ever since then, I’ve just disappointed everyone. It feels like the wheels are rusting. I know what everyone’s been saying, and I get it. I would say the same thing if I was in their shoes. It’s been 5 years of nothing but injuries, slow starts, and coming up short. I feel like I’m falling behind everyone, everyone keeps getting better and I feel stuck. Right now, all of my cages are mental and that’s why I’m scared. If I keep doing this, I’m wasting my potential. I’m stuck as the ‘injury prone’ and ‘wasted potential’ quarterback,” he said, the vulnerability in his voice comforting you because it meant he was letting you in.

“I haven’t done what I promised to do when I got drafted, so why should people believe me when I say that I’m built for this? Why should they believe me when I say that this year will be different? And you know what? They don’t believe me, at least not anymore and I saw that today. They see right through me. Even I see right through me,” he said.

“Can you see right through me?” he asked you, looking up into your soft eyes.

“Yes,” you nodded, his brows furrowing at your response. “Not in that way though,” you added. “I see right through you because I know you. That’s why I knew you weren’t fine the second you walked out of the locker room. Remember, the media, the fans, and the public don’t see through you, they only see the surface level because they don’t know you. They don’t truly know how hard you work, how strong you are, how much passion you really have for this. They’re going to spew whatever bullshit they want because that’s what they do. If they were in your shoes, then they would know why these things happen and the reality of the situation. They can’t see through you, I promise. And as for the not getting better, you’re crazy if you think that. I saw you in practice, your throws have never looked better. You have never looked better, all this muscle and beefiness is a part of getting better. And like I told you yesterday, you control the narrative. You don’t have to be the ‘injury-prone’ quarterback, you can change it. Deep down, you know who you are. Don’t let these trolls and interlopers define you,”.

Joe nodded as he felt his breaths steady out and his tears start to dry up. “I played scared yesterday, and I don’t know why? I thought I was ready, you know? We weren’t supposed to lose that game,”.

“I know,” you sighed. “But you’ve gone through so much these past 5 years, it’s completely normal to be hesitant and nobody should be blaming you for this. Yesterday’s loss wasn’t just on you. You’re on a team, Joe. They didn’t play perfectly either and the blame shouldn’t only fall on you. You’re a piece to the puzzle, a big piece, but not the only piece. The media always wants to pin everything on one person. One thing that I admire about you is how easily you block out the outside noise, don’t change that. Block it out like you always do,”.

“This is game 1 out of 17. Don’t let this define you and don’t let the noise get to you,” you said as you used your thumb to rub the skin underneath his eye, wiping away the wet tear trails.

Joe nodded again, taking in all of the words you were saying to him. You were right, about all of it. He was so in his head about everything and so panicked that he couldn’t use logic and sense to think clearly. This was just one bump in the road as you explained. He had 16 more games to play and 16 more opportunities to show everyone what he’s made of.

“You’re right,” he nodded. “This was one game. I can take this, learn from my mistakes, and get better,”.

“That’s exactly what I like to hear,” you smiled after hearing him work through his complicated feelings. “You’re going to get better. The team is going to get better. If you want to fix the blaring issues, do it with a calm, collected, and cool mind. You’re called ‘Joe Cool’ for a reason. Live up to that name,” you giggled. “Don’t lose your cool, don’t lose your composure over shit like this. I know you feel awful about how things went today, but one bad game doesn’t define a player and doesn’t define the entire season. Things were rough, but you always, no, you will bounce back,”.

“Thank you,” he sniffled against your chest, his brain feeling like it had just been given a nice comfy king-sized bed and cloud-like blanket to sleep in for the night. You were the only person that could make him turn his brain off and he couldn’t thank you enough. “I think I just got panicked after seeing everyone’s reactions and seeing how things looked out on the field plus everything I was feeling yesterday made it worse,”.

“Of course,” you smiled as you gave his head another kiss before holding him tighter against you. “And I get it. Sometimes it feels like the walls are caving in but that’s why it’s always important to talk to someone when you feel that way. Bottling up those feelings only makes it worse,”.

“You're 100% right, Y/N. I’m sorry about earlier,” he said while looking up into your eyes again. “That was so fucking uncalled for. And I’m sorry for raising my voice, I was a dick to you the entire night,”.

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “You were a dick, I agree,” you began to say, earning a laugh from Joe which made your heart smile, “But you’re my dick and I know how to handle you,” you smiled, then quickly furrowed your brows.

“Wait, that doesn’t sound right at all,” you slapped your hand against your mouth after realizing what that sounded like, another laugh coming from Joe’s mouth.

“I know what you mean,” he smiled. “But seriously, everything I said was straight bullshit. You mean the world to me and without you, I really think I would end up in an insane asylum. You’re the single most important thing in my life and I appreciate everything you do for me. Don’t ever leave me alone if I ask you to. Like please, I can’t live without you. Chain yourself to my wrist if you need to,”.

“Noted,” you smiled. “Just don’t freak out on me like that again, okay? You worked so hard this past year to get out of that zone, break free from that dark cloud, and I don’t want to see you back there,”.

“I promise I won’t go back there and if I ever feel like I am, you’ll be the first person I come to. I’m never going to keep you out of the bubble again,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your chest. “I love you,” he said with another kiss to your chest.

“I love you too,” you smiled down at him. “I love you like a lot a lot,” you giggled, echoing what he said to you after his wrist surgery.

“You know, sweet talking and hugs do make everything better,” he laughed as he looked up at you with his child-like smile you loved to see.

“Oh, I know,” you winked. “But you still feel pretty stiff right now. Are you sure you’re 100% okay?”.

“I think it’s just all the tension that I didn’t get to release out on the field. And I guess everything that happened after made it worse,” he grimaced.

“Ah, that makes sense,” you nod, trying to think of a way to help him get his tension out because you knew if he didn’t, he’d be whiny all night about it. “How about some hot, post-loss sex to make you feel better?” you wiggled your eyebrows and asked.

Joe’s eyes jumped up to meet yours as he was a bit taken aback by your straightforwardness. “For real?” he asked as he got up from your chest.

“Mhm, the perfect way to get the tension and aggression out,” you said while licking your lips and giving him a sultry smile.

“I love you, so fucking much,” he growled in your ears before shooting up from the couch, snaking his arms under you, lifting you up, and leading you up to the bedroom bridal style.

“At least the wrist seems to be just fine,” you giggled as he quickly ran up the stairs with you.

Not even 5 minutes later, you two were mostly naked, on the bed, and attached to each other’s lips as if you had never kissed each other before. His lips moved against yours hungrily, signaling that he was feeling that way tonight and that you should brace yourself for what was to come.

You felt him pull away from your lips and start pressing wet, sloppy kisses down your body. “I thought we were getting right to it?” you asked him as you felt his gentle lips on your belly.

“Mmm, I gotta make it up to you first, then we can get to it,” he smiled up at you.

“But I said I-,”.

“Nope. I have to make you feel good first, you deserve it,” he winked before he continued to kiss down your body. You felt him attach his lips to the skin of your inner thigh, rhythmically sucking and biting which would surely leave a mark while his hands crept up to the waistband of your lace panties. He then moved his lips to press a kiss to your clothed core before pulling your underwear down, tossing it to the side, and then flashing you a devilish grin since he saw how you were squirming around on the bed because of the undeniable ache between your thighs.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur and the next thing you knew, Joe’s head was buried deep in between your thighs and your back was arching off the bed. “Joe,” you moaned as you felt him push you back down, the expert swirl of his tongue sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. “J- Joe,” you whispered, your head falling to the side as your eyes fluttered shut.

Joe couldn’t help but smile into you as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, the beautiful sounds coming from your mouth making his heart happy but also, his dick.

“Mmm, fuck..,” you whimpered as you gripped the silk sheets, tossing your leg over his shoulder and lightly gliding your foot along his muscular back. The sudden touch made Joe groan into your core which sent vibrations throughout your body, your heated touch feeling like fire against his cold frame.

He continued to lap at your drenched folds, all while his hands were tightly gripping your hips and massaging your plush skin. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you whispered with another loud moan following after as you felt his perfect ski-slope nose rubbing against your aching clit.

You placed a hand into his hair, softly pulling on the strands as you pushed him closer to your core and yet another moan came from your mouth. Joe lifted his head out from in between your thighs and looked up at you, “You’re extra vocal tonight,” he smirked, his lips and chin coated with your wetness.

“Shut up,” you whined before you pushed his head back down, a smile appearing on your lips when you felt him attach his lips to your bundle of nerves and flick your clit with his warm tongue. You felt yourself fading away, getting lost in the sensual supernova that was happening down below.

“...Oh my god,” you whined a few seconds later, feeling him thrust a finger into your core which pushed you closer to your orgasm even faster than before. “Don’t stop,” you said while pulling on his hair, your leg lightly wrapping around the back of his neck.

You felt him move his other hand down, his thumb resting on your clit as he rubbed slow circles around the bundle of nerves–this movement made you see stars. The combination of his thumb rubbing your clit, his finger thrusting in and out of your slick core, and his mouth going unhinged was making the imaginary band in your stomach tighten harder than it ever had before.

“I’m close,” you whimpered, your hips gently bucking at the jolt of pleasure moving through your body. “I’m..s- so…c- close,” you whimpered, this time a little louder because his thumb started moving faster around your clit. You then feel him add another finger into your core, your hips grinding against the bed as you search for any form of relief, but the only thing that could relieve you was taking his sweet time.

“Baby, please,” you begged, your eyes fluttering shut as your back arched off the bed again, his fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of your core while you felt a more extreme feeling begging to be released from inside of you. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, the feeling about to break through in just a few seconds.

Joe curled his fingers inside of your core and moved his mouth back up to your clit, roughly attaching his mouth to the bud and sucking you in a way that he knew drove you crazy. And then just a few seconds later you dropped back down to the bed as you felt yourself tip over the edge, his name falling from your lips like some seductive chant while you came undone. “Joe!” you screamed, tightly closing your eyes and feeling your entire body shake with the force of your orgasm.

Joe looked up through his eyelashes, watching you restlessly move around and hearing breathy moans leaving your beautiful mouth as he lapped at the juices of your intense–still going–orgasm. He was slowly getting more and more worked up as he watched you come apart, knowing he was the only man who had ever seen you this vulnerable and raw and was the only man who was going to see this.

A minute later you open your eyes, your chest heaving as you recover from the intense high that washed over you, “Holy fuck,” you panted as you saw Joe smiling at you, his lips and chin completely covered in your release, his face showing that he somehow enjoyed this just as much as you did.

“Did I just-,” you asked, feeling the soaked sheets below you, as you caught your breath. Your eyebrows shoot up in amusement as you watch Joe wipe his chin with his fingers before using his tongue to lick them clean.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “You did,”.

“Oh my god,” you said, hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment.

Joe let out a throaty laugh before kneeling on the bed again and hovering over you, then moving your hands off of your face, “Why are you hiding,” he smiled.

“Because I just…,” you said while biting your lip, his bedroom eyes making you want to pounce on him right that second even though you also wanted to run and hide for some reason.

“What?” he said while trying to hold back his cocky smile. “Squirted?” he asked while moving your hair out of your face.

“You don’t have to say it like that…,” you said while hiding your face again.

After all this time, you still felt shy around him. He’d seen your most embarrassing moments, your best and your worst. He’d seen it all. The fact that you felt embarrassed about this little thing was adorable and another reminder that you were the most precious girl he had ever met.

“Don’t feel embarrassed, babe. It’s not the first time and it’s definitely not the last time,” he softly said while leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I think it was super hot and super sexy,”.

“Really?” you asked while peeking out at him through your fingers.

“Mhmmm. Besides, I’ve seen way worse than this. Can’t forget the time I walked in on you fingering yourself while I was away at practice,” he grinned from ear to ear, as if he was proud that he made you so worked up even when he was away from you.

“Joseph Lee,” you screamed while playfully slapping his bare chest.

“Hey, it was a great show,” he shrugged. “I can still remember the sounds,” he said while clearing his throat. “Oooh, Joe. Ohhh Joe, fuck. Joe, ah… Joey!” he moaned as he mimicked you, all while laughing because he couldn’t be serious about it.

“You know, I don’t have to offer an outlet for you to release your tension,” you shrugged as you started to get up from the bed but felt yourself being caged in by your large boyfriend.

“Ahem, I don’t think that’s how this works, baby,” he shook his head. “Once you put something on the table, you can’t take it off,”.

“Oh yeah?” you teased. “What if I do?”.

“You don’t wanna know,” he whispered in your ear before slamming his thick cock into your dripping entrance with no warning.

“Joe,” you gasped, the sudden feeling of him stretching you out and filling you up so extreme and lively.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned as he threw his head back, his cock moving at an instantaneous pace. “That’s it…,” he said again but a little quieter while he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, the feeling of your warm walls wrapping around him so intense and special.

“Joe, fuck,” you whimpered as you felt his cock repeatedly slam into your cervix, his body moving against yours recklessly and roughly. His thrusts quickened as he moved deeper and deeper inside you, the sounds of your breathy moans getting louder with each snap of his skilled hips. He sported a euphoric look on his once-tired face, a sign that he felt relaxed and it was all to your credit.

The next few minutes were hot, steamy, and messy as he whispered filthy praise into your ear which matched the pure vulgarity that was happening between you two on the bed right now. His hard thrusts made it difficult for you to hold it together, your nails clawing at his tan back as you bit down on his shoulder and got lost under his touch. “You’re so good to me,” he moaned in your ear, his hand moving up and wrapping around your throat.

“Joe,” you struggled to moan, feeling his grip around your throat becoming a little tighter as the pleasure inside of you was rapidly building.

“Ah, fuck,” he panted as he picked his head up and cupped the back of your leg, and lifted it over his shoulder; this new position opened you up even more and made it easier for him to hit all the right spots inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpered, the sight of his lip in between his teeth and his thick body moving against you making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“I’m close,” you moaned as you looked down, moaning again at the sight of his shaft rapidly moving in and out of your slick heat.

“Fuck, me…too,” he groaned, his pace getting rougher and rougher as sounds of your skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room. “I love you,” he moaned loudly once he felt his cock start to twitch inside of you.

“Joe, fuck…please, I need to come,” you whined, his grip on your leg getting tighter.

“I know baby, I know,” he whimpered, “I’m almost there,” he added as he dropped your leg and moved his hand to the headboard, gripping it tightly as he used it as leverage to slam into you even harder. All the tension, all the aggression, it was all coming out in the most fruitful way possible. He was getting away from himself, and it was all thanks to you.

“Ah, fuck,” you screamed, feeling yourself on the brink of pleasure, stars filling your eyes as his pace remained rough and hard.

A few seconds later, you felt him shoot endless ropes of cum into your wet heat which were accompanied by another loud moan from him. “Fuck. Oh fuck,” he panted as he slowed his thrusts into you, making sure that his release stayed inside of you and that you reached your high.

“Joe, please,” you pleaded, needing to feel your high right this second.

“I’ve got you,” he said while giving you a lazy smile, his hand moving down to your clit and rubbing rapid circles around the sensitive bud as he slowed his thrusts even more. A few seconds later, you clamped down on his cock, arched your body up into him, and felt yourself let go for the second time tonight. “Oh my god,” you moaned before you felt him press gentle kisses all along your neck and eventually your face, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as your highs washed over you.

A few minutes later, you were both lying against the messy sheets, your head tucked into his chest as he played with your hair and once again apologized to you for how he acted earlier tonight.

“Joe, I promise, It’s okay,” you giggled. “You’ve made it up to me in more ways than one. The fact that I can’t walk right now is an apology enough,”.

“Okay, I’ll stop now,” he smiled. “Thank you for everything though. This and for everything you said earlier,”.

“No need to thank me, baby. I told you, this is my job. We’re in this together and I promise that nothing’s going to hurt you as long as you’re with me. Like I said to you back in November, I’m your protector,” you grinned.

“That you are,” he laughed, his body feeling loose and light under you for the first time all day.

“Thank god he feels better," you smiled to yourself. Joe was the most important thing in your life, having him relaxed, focused, and calm was all you wanted. He deserved all the happiness, success, and love in the world and you needed to make sure he knew that. Moments like this were going to happen all throughout his career, but they were controllable and you were a big reason as to why they were. He wasn't kidding when he said he needed you inside his bubble or he'd end up in the insane asylum. You were his safe haven, his place of tranquility, his calm in the storm.

“I love you more than anything, Joe. Everything's going to be alright, I promise,” you smiled up at him, then leaned in for another kiss before you felt him pull the sheets over you both.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he smiled as he nuzzled his nose against yours and leaned in for another kiss.

–The End–

part 2 is on the masterlist!

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #nfl imagine #joeburrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #Spotify

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celuere · 3 months ago

Note

Can we have a part 3 to the Not Enough/Sweet dreams Arlecchino x reader fic where Reader finds out she's pregnant and has to break the news to Arlecchino? Maybe some cute stuff about Arlecchino taking care of pregnant reader, just a bunch of FLUFF

Pretty please🙏🙏🙏

Anon if you’re asking SO nicely how could I possible decline…

To be honest I thought about this for quite a while because I am actually not that sure about how Arle would receive the news. I don’t think she would react in a negative way and just… dip out but I also don’t think like she would spin you around in sheer happiness (only if you‘ve been actively trying ofc but that’s not the case here). So I thought about a more neutral reaction, not knowing what to make of the news at first. But trust me when I say that I tried to make it as fluffy as possible without going too much ooc

Bu Arle taking care of her pregnant wife? Sign me the FUCK up.

pairing: Arlecchino x pregnant!reader

context: look at anon request!

cw: pregnancy, a bit angsty at the beginning, so much fluff that you’re suffocating in it, idk what else to put here tbh, not proofread!

Also I wrote the paragraphs shorter on purpose since I wanted it to have more of hc look than a full length fic!

Two. You connected a lot of things with the number Two.

For once there was your husbands birthday. 22nd of August.

Then there was the second Fatui Harbinger. Dottore.

You always put two spoons of milk into your coffee.

You have two eyes, two arms, two hands, two legs, two and so on.

You never connected any negative feelings with the number two up until now.

Two lines.

There were two lines on the paper stripe you were currently holding in your hand.

You weren’t shaking. You weren’t crying. You weren’t hyperventilating.

You just stared. Stared down at the positive pregnancy test as all you could hear was the thrumming of your own heartbeat in your ears.

You were pregnant. Pregnant from your husband. Pregnant from the fourth Fatui Harbinger.

Pregnant from Peruere.

You suspected it for a few weeks now. The frequent morning sickness, the headaches, the sudden exhaustion washing over you at the weirdest moments, not being able to keep certain foods down for a longer period of time.

You weren’t surprised, really. But you were afraid.

Would she be happy? Would she tell you to not keep it? Would she yell at you? Would she be ecstatic? Despite being married for a good five years now, the topic of pregnancy and a family outside of the Hearth never once came up in the thousands of conversations you already had.

You had exactly no idea how Arlecchino would take the news.

And that scared you to death.

To add more salt into the wound, your husband was currently not even present. She took on a mission in Mondstadt two weeks ago, only returning this upcoming Saturday.

So you‘ve got four days to come up with a plan on how to break the announcement to her. And you hoped with all your heart that it wouldn’t destroy your marriage.

Over the timespan of the next few days until Arlecchino‘s arrival, the children of course noticed your changed demeanor. The tense look on your face, your often exhausted expressions, how you often excused yourself to the bathroom after shared meals, they even noticed that you stopped wearing clothes that highlighted the curves of your body, exchanging them with a warm cardigan instead. They knew something was off but they couldn’t quite put their finger on it.

And Father wasn’t spared any details of it when she arrived late in the afternoon on a quite rainy Saturday. As a result, Arlecchino observed the situation for her own better judgement.

Your greeting was as usual, a soft kiss onto her lips while your soft hands cupped the outlines of her face with the exception of one thing.

Your weren’t smiling into the kiss like you‘d always do. But that was no reason for her to already draw a conclusion, so she simply went along with it, taking your hand into hers and lead you to the living room so she could tell you all about her little trip to the Nation of Freedom.

Furthermore she noticed how you stopped changing in front of her, even going as far as to lock the bathroom door when taking a bath, how you were always up much earlier than her, often leaving the dinner table as soon as you were finished with the excuse of „still having to go through some paperwork“.

It weirded her out just as much as it worried her. What could you possibly be hiding from your Husband?

On the other side of the coin, you were completely distressed. You had no idea how to tell her, when the perfect timing would be- just the thought about telling her caused your heartrate to increase unhealthily fast. And the bump that was getting more and more visible as time went on, it was getting incredibly hard to conceal it.

So now you where sitting next to your Husband at a fancy gathering of the Fatui, not daring to take off your coat despite Arlecchino‘s insistence.

You were sweating to death but there was no way in hell you‘d expose your bump like that so you just endured and declined the multiple wine glasses that were offered to you and stuck to your simple glass of water.

And that’s when it dawned on Arlecchino, every little puzzle piece slowly coming together as she watched you bring the simple glass to your lips.

The concealing clothes, not changing in front of her, how you avoided any kind of intimacy ever since she arrived, your distaste for certain foods and the sounds of you hurling up your guts in the morning.

How could she be so dense to the obvious? How did she not notice anything sooner? What on earth did go wrong for her to not think about the possibility of a pregnancy?

And for the first time in her life, the Knave felt something in her stomach sink. Was that nervousness? Guilt? Whatever it was, she hated this feeling. Wanted to rip it right out with her own hands and burn it to ash.

A family? With you? Sure, this particular scenario crossed her mind quite a few times. The image of you carrying her child, accompanying you to doctors appointments, waking up in the early mornings for a baby. Her own baby.

But was she fit for that role? Was she fit to raise this child with you? What if she turned out to be just as bad as Mother? What if she failed you during the pregnancy? These new paths opening up in her mind where so incredibly overwhelming for her, she had to excuse herself quickly for a quick breather of fresh air.

You knew something was off by stiffness in her voice before she left for the balcony, you were following her footsteps not a few moments later.

The cold evening air made the hair on your neck stand up, forcing you to pull you coat tighter around your frame when you strode up to her. She had her back turned to you, head leaned back to gaze upon the moon shining down at the both of you, her hair almost glowing in the moonlight.

„Peru-”

„When did you find out?“, her words were soft. Hidden with a slightly sharp edge but you knew exactly what she meant. You figured that she’d eventually find out on her own but you couldn’t help but feel that wave of anxiety wash over you.

„Around three weeks ago… four days prior to your arrival… Peruere, I… I tried telling you so many times but I simply couldn’t bring myself to- we never discussed the possibility of a family and considering your work in the Fatui- I simply didn’t want to put another burden on your shoulders…“, the tears formed very much on their own, the wind now stinging in your eyes.

„You think that my wife being pregnant with my child would burden me?“, she now finally turned around, her face was like nothing you’d ever seen. There wasn’t coldness edged into her facial features. Nor anger or irritation.

It was disappointment.

She was disappointed in you. Was she that bad of a spouse? What made you believe that she‘d be angry with you for something you were both responsible for? Seriously, was there ever a point in your relationship when she was truly mad at you? Sure, you had your disagreements like ever other married couple but your Husband was never angry at you. Anger makes one impulsive. You should know that best.

„Thats not how I meant it- but a child? Is that something you can imagine, is that something you truly want?“, the desperation in your voice cut deep into her heart. You must’ve carried these words with you for so long now, she should’ve acted sooner.

She finally took a step towards you, „Do I look appalled? Do I look disgusted by the idea? Am I even angry with you? My love, you tell me if I want to take this path with you.“, the worries from earlier still plagued her mind but that was a discussion for later. All that mattered to her now was to soothe whatever doubts you had.

„I… I don’t know… we never talked about this- you are often away on missions, what about your reputation, what abou-”, you words were swallowed up by her soft lips being pressed against yours, her hands sneaking around your back to pull you in closer to her.

The kiss was soft, so full of love and affection and suddenly it wasn’t nearly as cold as mere moments ago.

Slowly, she parted your lips, leaning her forehead against yours. A gesture she always did to signal you to calm down, that everything is alright.

„Tu parles trop…“

„You talk too much…“

She made no comment when her thumb gently brushed away a tear that silently ran down your beautiful face. The both of you just stood there in each others arms, not moving, simply just enjoying the presence of the other.

„I‘m sorry for not telling you sooner… I couldn’t- I just didn’t know how…“, the words came out barely as whisper, almost swallowed up by the wind.

„My sweet… what did I just tell you about talking too much?“, she gently squeezed your hands, getting a chuckle out of you that warmed her heart.

„So you’re not mad with me?“

„Do I seem mad to you?“

„No… No not at all…“, you both shared another soft kiss with each other.

„Then there is you answer. Now please… stop hiding from me…“, carefully, she shoved the coat aside to take a closer look and oh boy, you might just shoot her right there.

The cute baby bump might just changed her brain chemistry for the rest of her life.

A faint blush crept up on your cheeks at her reaction. It was unusual for her to loose her composure so easily, „the Doctor said I’m at the end of my first trimester… would you like to have a feel…?“, weird to propose to her again, but yes. You didn’t have to tell her twice before her warm hand carefully ran over your visibly swollen belly, she might just touched Heavens Gates itself right now.

There wasn’t any words being exchanged between you. There was no need for that. The softness in her eyes was all that you needed.

Over the course of the next weeks, you got to witness a completely new side of your Husband and loved this one even more.

Arlecchino immediately got you one of these long pregnancy pillows so we’re as comfortable as possible in your sleep, always making sure you weren’t laying flat on your back

You weren’t even allowed to carry your own bag anymore. You even had to convince her to let her walk up the stairs without her assistance, she was just fretting way too much about you, you were pregnant and not sick, right?

She made it part of her bed routine to apply and gently massage your belly with a special lotion that she went out of her way for to get it from Bubu Pharmacy itself, you didn’t even dare to ask about the price.

Can’t take her hands off of your belly for the love of it. The sight is just so admirable to her, thinking about the little life that grew up inside your tummy was just so- mindblowing to her so and when the first kicks start to set in… she is a GONER. Beyond salvation. Don’t even try to speak her.

Mandatory nap time. She did her research way before your pregnancy and knows how much of a toll this lifechanging process will have on your body so she lets you nap whenever and wherever you want and even sometimes tucks you into the comfort of your bed when she thinks you‘ve been active for way too long. You need rest. Lots of rest.

Stops leaving the house for mere paperwork or negotiations after your five months in, those are to be held now in her home office in case something might happen or you need her and if that happens to be the case- she quite literally drops anything for you.

Literally thanks you every chance she gets for bringing your daughter into the world, often wrapping her arms around you from behind, hands gently lifting up the weight of your baby belly as she plants soft kisses on your neck while telling you how much of a strong woman you are and how grateful she is for you the carrying out her baby. She is far gone your honor.

Did you every think to meet the Knave in a course about birth preparations on a Friday evening? Now you have.

Literally doubles the security in- and outside of your house, always having someone at your disposal and even arranging a team of nurses. That is of course only if you are comfortable with a bunch midwives swarming around you 24/7.

Her worst ever fear would be to miss the birth. Nothing sounds as horrific to her as making you go through the traumatic experience of giving birth without her presence, it drives her nuts to a point where she even refuses to leave you alone for more than hour in the ast few weeks of pregnancy

Of course buys you pretty pregnancy clothes that fit your taste, wether it be something to hide your belly or rather highlight it, she buys it all.

You literally can’t have a conversation with her without her ass mentioning her pregnant wife. Childe is so sick of her atp.

I‘m so down bad for arle being a goner for her pregnant wife. I can’t stress this enough.

#arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino x you #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #peruere x reader #arlechinno genshin #peruere #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #genshin #genshin women x reader

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formula-nyoom · 5 months ago

Text

Grid Dads

Summary: The Grid Dads, their Grid Kids, and their first F1 win

Sequel to Grid Kids

A/N: So originally the plan was for this fic to be told in the perspectives of the Grid Dads, but then I mainly focused on the section of Logan winning his first race and this just ended up turning into the Grid Kids winning their first F1 races and their Grid Dads being there to support them. Tried to keep the reader gender neutral for this one, though I apologize if a “she” or “her” slipped in. Logan’s is the longest because it’s the first one I wrote and I wanted to avoid repetition so Oscar’s and (Y/N)’s sections are a bit shorter. If you want to read just (Y/N)'s section, it's the last one.

Oscar

Triple header race weekends were never easy. The constant back to back of race weekends where there never seemed to be a time to breathe always hit heavy on the drivers.

And yet in the middle of it, Oscar was driving like it was the best race weekend of his life. Topping all three Free Practice Sessions, Oscar felt like Austria was going to be the best race this season.

And then he gets pole in qualifying for the first time.

Now, getting pole should be another good thing to add to Oscar’s already phenomenal weekend. But as the race drew closer and closer, Oscar felt like expectations were getting higher and higher. Everyone is expecting him to win, and while that is always Oscar’s goal during races, the high expectations were not helping his nerves.

“Are you nervous?” Mark asked him as Oscar was getting ready in his driver’s room.

“Yea…I’m starting on pole for the first time, why wouldn’t I be nervous?” Oscar said as he tied his shoes.

“I didn’t say you had to be. It’s ok to be nervous.” Mark said. “You’ve got a real shot at winning this race.”

“Unless someone passes me. Which is inevitable.” Oscar said. Mark stood up and placed his hand on Oscar’s shoulder, getting the younger driver to look at him.

“Then don’t let them pass you.” Mark said. Oscar scoffed.

“Is that the only advice you have for me?”

“It’s the only advice you need.” Mark said, patting Oscar’s shoulder before leaving the driver’s room. Oscar watched him go with confusion. He did expect Mark to give him a bit more advice, but then again Mark was always confident in Oscar’s abilities when he was on track.

Rolling into the P1 spot after the formation lap, Oscar took a breath and glanced to his right to see the scarlet Ferrari of Charles in P2. While McLaren have been able to keep pace with Ferrari throughout the season, it was unsure of who could be quickest on the start. Oscar didn’t need to be told that it had to be him, Oscar knew that. He also knew that if Charles passed him at the beginning, he had the potential of overtaking him later in the race as long as he kept pace.

“Don’t let them pass you.”

Oscar wasn’t going to let Charles get the upper hand.

Lights out and Oscar’s foot was on the pedal at lighting speed. He was able to pull ahead of Charles, but the Monagas driver stayed close to Oscar all the way into the first turn. Charles almost pulled ahead of him in turn 4 and 5, but Oscar was able to defend against him and when the first lap was finally over, Oscar managed to build a one second gap between him and Charles.

Oscar stayed in first for about 20 laps but his tires were starting to wear down and Oscar knew that if he pitted now with only a 6 second gap between him and Charles, he would lose the lead. Oscar would either need to build up a big enough gap on his wearing tires for him to be able to pitstop without losing P1…or a red flag needed to happen so his tires could get changed with no consequence of a time loss. But a red flag seemed almost impossible. Oscar started discussing with his engineer the possibilities of even a yellow flag happening so the time loss wouldn’t be significant, when his engineer’s voice came over the radio with exactly what Oscar needed to hear.

“Red Flag! Red Flag!” His engineer said. “Come to the pits. There is a car turned over in the middle of the track.”

“Are they ok?” Oscar asked. While the red flag was exactly what Oscar needed to keep his P1, it wasn’t something Oscar was wishing or hoping for, as red flagged crashes are serious matters. All Oscar was grateful for was that he was able to pit and change tires without losing his position, and he hoped that whoever was involved with the crash was ok.

But the race was going to have to be restarted. Which means it would give others the chance to pass Oscar going into the restart.

“You’re driving great out there.” Mark told him while everyone was waiting for the track to be cleared.

“Yea, but now I have to do it all over again.” Oscar said.

“You know what to do.” Mark said, patting Oscar’s shoulder.

‘Don’t let them pass.’

Oscar could do that.

A sense of deja vu hit Oscar as he watched Charles pull into the P2 spot next to him. The Ferrari driver somehow was able to maintain his position like Oscar had, and Oscar was going to have to do everything to make sure Charles stayed in P2.

The lights went on again

And then they were off. And so was Oscar and Charles.

Charles managed to get a bit of a jump on Oscar at the restart, with the two going side by side into turn one. But Charles ended up breaking late and Oscar was able to pull ahead, still in the lead.

Still in P1.

‘Don’t let them pass.’

And that’s what Oscar did. Everytime Charles tried to overtake, Oscar defended like his life depended on it while maintaining his speed. How he was able to stay calm and keep the Ferrari at bay, Oscar may not fully know. But Oscar was eventually able to see the checkered flag waving. And as he blocked Charles from overtaking him as they made it to the last corner, Oscar’s foot didn’t leave the pedal till he crossed that finish line.

“FROM POLE TO P1! OSCAR PIASTRI HAS WON THE AUSTRIAN GRAND PRIX!”

“You, Oscar Piastri, are a race winner! Congratulations!” Oscar’s race engineer said to him over the radio.

“Woooooo! What a race. That was a tough one, keeping pole the whole race. Wow.” Oscar said as he did his cool down lap and waved to the crowds as he passed by.

He pulled into the P1 spot and took his time undoing his steering wheel before he stood up and climbed on to the nose of his car. The McLaren crew at the barriers cheered as Oscar raised his fist in the air. Oscar jumped down from the car and was met with the sight of Charles who raised his hand up for a high five.

“Another Leclerc 1-2! You fought me hard for that win.” Charles said, bringing Oscar in for a brief hug.

“I was so worried about messing up. I couldn’t let you get by.” Oscar said. Charles laughed.

Oscar then turned his attention to the McLaren team at the barriers. Oscar ran over and jumped into their arms, receiving various pats and high fives. As Oscar pulled away, he saw Mark there, standing at the barriers with the McLaren team. Oscar went over and Mark pulled him in for a hug.

“What did I tell you?” Mark said as he hugged Oscar.

“Don’t let them pass.”

“And what did you do?”

“I didn’t let them pass.” Oscar said as he smiled.

“It was good advice if I do say so myself.” Mark said. Oscar rolled his eyes.

“I’ll make sure to come to you for more advice the next time I’m on pole.”

Logan

“Welcome back to Sky Sports. I’m Jenson Button, joined by one of my co-hosts Bernie Collins, and a welcome surprise: Nico Rosberg, who I usually don’t get to do this with.”

“Yes, it's very rare that Jenson and I get to host together.” Nico said. “But since I’m commentating the race this Sunday, I thought I’d fill in for one of your other co-hosts and spice things up.”

“I’m sure things will get spiced up this weekend as it is the United States Grand Prix!” Bernie said.

“Now there’s been an interesting development in the standings from the last couple races.” Nico said.

“Yea. There’s still a championship fight between Redbull, Ferrari, and McLaren. But the bottom field has had a sudden shift with Williams seeming to be closer points wise to Aston Martin and RB than they are to Alpine and KickSauber.” Bernie said.

“It will be interesting to see what the teams…�� Jenson’s sentence trailed off as his attention was drawn to what was going on behind him. 10 feet away and in view of the cameras, the young F1 drivers, Logan and (Y/N) were making funny faces or giving Jenson bunny ears. Jenson chuckled.

“Well it seems we’ve got a couple of trouble makers standing behind us. Sargent and (L/N) are photo bombing us.” Jenson said. Logan and (Y/N) burst out laughing at the act of them being caught. Jenson smiled, seeing the two young drivers finding amusement. He waved them over and their expressions morphed into partial guilt.

“Since the two of you are so keen to be on camera, do you two have any thoughts about the upcoming race? It’s a home race for you, Logan. Are you feeling confident?” Jenson asked, leaning his microphone towards Logan.

“Yea I’m feeling confident. I got my first point in Formula One here last year, though it was due to the disqualification of other drivers. I’m hoping that I can earn points properly this time and doing so at a home race would make it even better.” Logan said.

“I think he actually has a chance of getting a podium this weekend but he doesn’t believe me.” (Y/N) said. Nico scoffed

“You discount yourself too early, Logan.” Nico said. “Before we went on air, Jenson informed me of all the progress you’ve made throughout the season.”

“Really?” Logan asked, looking at Jenson with a bit of disbelief.

“I told him nothing but the truth.” Jenson said. “You’ve been making steady progress throughout the season, You scored your first points this season in Silverstone, and have been matching Alex’s pace with both of you scoring points for Williams in the last couple races. You’ve really been growing as a driver.”

Logan smiled. Sure, the Williams team has told him stuff like this, but it coming from Jenson felt sincere and genuine.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you guys have confidence in me. I’m gonna try my best this weekend. Maybe keep my elbows out, sorry (Y/N).” Logan said. (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Keep your elbows away from me, I’m gonna have to fight you for that podium.” (Y/N) said.

“Well we look forward to hopefully seeing that podium fight.” Bernie said. “We won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure your teams are waiting for you.”

“Sorry for interrupting your very important business of photo bombing us.” Jenson said.

“It was Logan’s idea.” (Y/N) said before she and Logan waved goodbye to Jenson, Nico, and Bernie before heading off.

“I’d like to see Logan on a podium. I think he could do it.” Jenson said.

“We’ve seen that when given the right car, he can really bring the points home. Everytime he gets an upgrade, his pace improves and luckily for him, Williams has brought the upgrades for this weekend.” Nico said.

“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see when the cars get going on the track.” Bernie said.

~~~

Logan took a deep breath as he slotted his car into the P9 spot and waited for the lights to go out. To say he was nervous was an understatement. This had been his best weekend overall this season with Logan being in the top ten for all three practice sessions and making it to Q3. But Logan’s done this dance before and he expects the other shoe to drop at any moment to ruin his so far amazing weekend.

“Radio check, Logan.” The voice of Gaten, his race engineer, resonates through his ear and brings him back into focus.

“Do you think Nico or Jenson are going to conduct the post race interviews?” Logan asked.

“Let’s get you on the podium to find out. I believe you can make it Logan.” Gaten told him. Logan didn’t smile but he felt his nerves lessen a bit knowing at least someone believed in him.

*Blink* *Blink* *Blink* *Blink* *Blink*

Logan breathed.

“IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

He wasn’t quick enough on the pedal and fell down to 11th in the first corner. Logan went into defensive mode to try and keep that position but on lap 12, his team gave him a crucial call.

“Box Box.”

“Sargent is the first to pit. Is there an issue with the car or is this Williams trying to strategize with their tires?” Crofty said from the commentary box.

“Pitting now puts Logan at the back of the grid. Seems Williams may be favoring Albon in this race.”

“Actually, if Logan is putting on the hard tires then Williams must think that he can go to the end because pitting now would give Sargent a massive advantage for when the other teams pit.” Nico said.

“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see if this gamble will work in the American’s favor.”

The pitstop did put Logan into last place. There was no time to doubt or think about how many overtakes he needed to make to get back into point scoring position as Logan focused on going forward and keeping the car on track.

He managed two overtakes before a collision happened.

“MAGNUSSEN AND ALBON MAKE CONTACT! BOTH OF THEM SPIN OUT AND INTO THE BARRIERS! ”

“His tyres locked up and he just couldn’t keep it together. That’s gonna be a safety car for sure.”

“Here we can see William’s strategy of pitting Sargent first and putting him on the hard was a good move. We can see that most of the other drivers are heading into the pit under the safety car, and this shoots Logan up from P18 to P10.” Nico commentated

“Safety Car. Magnussen and Alex made contact. Alex is out of the race. You are currently P10 with other drivers making pit stops now.” Gaten said over the radio.

“Is Alex ok?” Logan asked as he slowed his speed for the safety car.

“Alex is ok. We need to focus on the race. You are in the points now with some of the drivers in front having yet to pit and are on old tires.” Gaten told him.

The drivers who had yet to pit, did move into the pitlane, moving Logan up to P6. After a couple more laps, the safety car was called in and the flags switched from yellow to green.

“Let’s do some overtaking.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice as he started gaining on the car in front of him.

“Stroll .05 seconds in front. You have DRS. Go push.” Gaten told him.

“As we follow the Williams of Logan Sargent into Sector 2, he’s gaining on Lance Stroll. He goes for the outside AND OVERTAKES HIM AS SARGENT MOVES UP INTO P5!” Crofty exclaimed.

“That was a clean overtake. Lance didn’t even have the time to fight him.” Nico said.

“Good job. Let’s do that again at least two more times.” Gaten told Logan.

“Understood.” Logan knew that Gaten was intentionally not telling him what position he was in to not stress him out. But Logan could guess where he was in terms of current placement.

A couple laps later he was able to overtake Hamilton going into Turn 1, something Logan couldn’t help but smile at. He had just overtaken a 7 Time World Champion. That alone could have made Logan’s whole race. But now the question was, could he overtake another World Champion?

“Verstappen .08 seconds ahead. Push.”

Logan had never found himself in this position. The only time he saw Max’s rear wing was when he was letting him by to lap him.

But now…now he had an attempt at a genuine overtake on the man everyone always says wins.

“Sargent’s behind Verstappen! He’s within DRS range! Is he going to overtake the championship leader? Sargent goes to the outside, Verstappen follows and as they get into turn six, is the Williams going to make it past?”

Logan tried to go from the outside to the inside of the turn but he wasn’t quick enough as he pulled behind Max again. But as both of them turned into Sector 2, Logan knew he would have another chance.

“They’re going down the straight! Sargent’s again within DRS range! Is he going to be successful this time? He dives to the outside!”

Logan’s foot felt like it was glued to the gas pedal as his car drove right next to the Red Bull. engaging the DRS, Logan used that extra boost as his car sped past Max.

“SARGENT OVERTAKES VERSTAPPEN! I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Crofty exclaimed.

“Logan really treated Max like he was just another car to overtake, but I’m sure that boy is celebrating at the fact he just overtook both Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton.” Nico said, a smile on his face.

“Excellent job Logan. You are currently P3 with (L/N) in front of you. The margin between you two is 1.5 seconds. Let’s close that gap.” Gaten said.

“Copy. I did tell them I would keep my elbows out.” Logan said, a smile ghosting over his face for a brief moment.

“I’m glad to hear that Logan is enjoying this race. This really has been one of his best races.” Nico said.

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Nico.”

Logan was soon able to close the gap and got within DRS range of (Y/N). (Y/N) seemed more focused on making it past the corner, they didn’t see Logan until he was already past and speeding away.

“You’re doing amazing Logan. Piastri’s ahead with a 5 second gap. Let’s start trying to gain on him. 15 laps to go.” Gaten told him.

Though Logan didn’t need to wait long to try and catch up to Oscar.

“There’s a yellow flag in Turn 12 and we can see that Ocon has hit the wall. He’s not in a good spot and that will surely bring out another safety car.”

Logan had never been more thankful for a Safety Car as his and Oscar’s cars slowed down and Logan could see his best friend's rear wing clearly. He knew that a restart was imminent, this race wasn’t going to be finished under a safety car.

Logan actually had a chance at winning this race.

“Safety Car is coming in this lap. You will have the chance to attempt an overtake on Piastri, with (L/N) behind you.”

“Copy.” Was all Logan said. He couldn’t tell if his hands were shaking from nerves or the vibrations from the car. This was the highest he had ever gone during a Formula One race. Throughout the season, Logan was starting to believe that a win for him wasn’t possible. Yet as he stared at the rear wing of the Mclaren in front of him, Logan could almost feel the glory of a first place finish in his hands.

“The Safety Car comes in as the cars on track make their way to the start line…”

Oscar hits the gas.

Logan hits it faster.

Suddenly the Williams and the Mclaren are right next to each other–two best friends fighting for first place. Logan dives to the outside of Oscar’s car as they approach the turn…

“SARGENT OVERTAKES PIASTRI AND IS NOW IN THE LEAD!” Crofty exclaimed. A smile formed on Nico’s face as he watched the Williams car driven by Logan speed away from the Mclaren. The cheers from the crowd even reach the commentary box.

“What a brilliant overtake from Sargent. He made sure to really hit the gas on the restart so that he could bring himself close enough to Piastri for that overtake.” Nico said.

“With ten laps to go, let’s see if he can keep that lead.”

Logan tries his hardest to keep it together and keep the car on track. Anything can happen in a Formula One race. Knowing his luck, Logan is constantly expecting his tires to lock up, or for him to lose control of the steering and spin out as the laps tick down.

“Last Lap. Bring it home Logan.”

But reality sets in.

He just needs to make it past the finish line.

“If you don’t mind Crofty, I'd like to do the victory narration.” Nico said, his eyes glued to the Williams car he had been following throughout the whole race. The whole reason his smile has stayed on his face.

“Go right ahead Nico.” Crofty said. Nico took a breath.

“As he starts his final lap, we see the Williams car of Logan Sargent speeding by. After his car was taken away in Australia, he has been trying to prove himself to the team, to everyone, who said he had no place in Formula One. And I can say for certain that throughout this race, Logan has proven himself. He has shown Williams and everyone that he has gotten what it takes to be in Formula One, as he comes around the last corner. He got one point at this track last year and now he’s going for the win. The young man from Florida, the first American in Formula One in 8 years, has fought his way from the bottom, all the way to the top as LOGAN SARGENT WINS THE UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX!”

Nico’s smile grows as wide as it can go, as he watches the blue number 2 car cross the finish line. He sees Logan wave his fist in the air, celebrating his victory and Nico can practically hear the scream that the American driver must be letting out right now. He puts his microphone down, not caring that there’s still commentary that he needs to do as he leaves the commentary box. Nico wants to be there for Logan and see him stand on the top step of the podium.

“You did it mate! You won!” Gaten says over the radio. Logan can barely hear it over the sound of him screaming and the cheers from the audience.

“YESSSSSSS! COME ON! OH MY GOD!” Logan yells. He can feel tears start to well up in his eyes but blinks them away as he makes his way to Parc Ferme so he can park his car in the #1 spot.

Getting there, Logan sat in the car for a moment, taking in the moment that he had just won his first Formula 1 race. He closes his eyes and breathes.

“I did it.” He says to himself, before standing up.

He stands on the nose of his car, tucking his arms into him before spreading them out, like an eagle spreading his wings. He hadn’t been able to do this since F2. God did he miss this feeling.

As soon as he steps down from the car, he’s getting tackled from both sides. Oscar to his right, and (Y/N) to his left. This winning feeling felt even better at the fact that he got to share the podium with his two best friends.

“Congrats mate! That was a hard earned win.” Oscar says, patting his back.

“I told you you’d get a podium.” (Y/N) says, putting both hands on the side of Logan’s helmet and shaking him a bit. Logan laughs before batting his friend’s arms away.

He dives into the waiting arms of the William’s team, who hold him and pat his helmet like he just won the World Championship. In a way, Logan feels like he has.

There’s a couple more pats and shakes before a steward is directing him to a spot for the post interview and Logan’s smile grows wider as he sees Jenson’s the one to do it. Jenson wraps Logan in a big hug, one hand cradling his head close to his own and Logan can’t help but let a tear roll down his face.

“You were flying out their champ.” Jenson whispers into his ear before he has to pull away and Logan is handed a microphone.

“Logan…take it all in. You’ve just won your first Formula One race. How are you feeling?”

“It’s unreal, Jenson. That was a very nerve wracking race with the amount of overtakes I had to do. Throughout the week, I honestly didn’t expect that I would be winning this one.”

“I was on the edge of my seat the whole race. I felt like a proud dad watching you overtake both Hamilton and Verstappen.”

“You did say that you had hoped to see me on the podium. Glad I could live up to your expectations.” Logan said.

“You’ve done more than that, Logan. You’ve truly proven yourself as a Formula One driver. Soak it in, champ. You’re a Formula One race winner.” Jenson said. Logan can only nod and laugh as he takes it all in.

Yea, he’s a Formula One race winner.

Jenson knows that he shouldn’t, considering they’re on live television, but he can’t help but pull Logan in for one more hug before the next interview starts. Logan seems to hold on for a bit longer and Jenson would have given him all the time in the world to stay in this hug. But they have to pull away as Logan heads to the cool down room and Oscar takes Logan’s place to be interviewed.

Logan can still feel the adrenaline and he doesn’t think it’s going to calm down anytime soon. He jumps as someone’s hands land on his shoulders and Alex is suddenly behind him, shaking his shoulders before coming around to the front and giving him a big hug.

“You just needed to prove yourself and you did! That’s my teammate!” Alex said. Logan laughs. As soon as Alex breaks the hug and steps away, George is right in front of him, pulling him into his own hug before lifting him up into the air. Logan can’t help but hold on tighter as his feet leave the ground.

“I knew you could do it, Logs.” He says. Logan lets out a laugh as he’s placed back down on the ground.

“Thanks guys. I truly don’t know how I made it to the end.” Logan said.

“Rubbish. You made it to the end because you are a phenomenal driver.” George said, pointing a finger at Logan before patting his shoulder.

Before he walks out to the podium, someone hands him an American flag that he drapes across his shoulders. When he first joined Formula One, to Logan the American flag felt heavy, like he was carrying the country on his shoulders.

Now, Logan felt like he was flying.

“In 1st Place…Williams Driver: Logan Sargent!”

He takes his place on the top step of the podium and looks out into the crowd. Amongst the sea of Blue, White, and Orange, Logan’s eyes land on Jenson with Nico standing right next to him. They’re smiling at him with nothing but proudness in their eyes at the fact that their grid kid won his first race.

And to Logan, their smiles are the only ones that matter.

(Y/N)

It was the weekend of the Belgium Grand Prix and instead of being in the team garage, (Y/N) was standing at the VIP entrance, watching everyone that entered. Were there countless rumors going around that Sebastian Vettel would attend this race? Yes. Were they confirmed? Not really. Did (Y/N) believe them? If it meant the young driver could see their grid dad, then yes. That was the whole reason (Y/N) was at the VIP entrance, looking for any sight of the German World Champion. But it was getting too close to Free Practice for (Y/N) to stay, and thinking the rumors were false, (Y/N) turned around to head to their team’s garage.

“Off to go racing, honey bee?”

(Y/N) turned back around so quickly, they almost got whiplash. Standing there was Sebastian with a VIP badge around his neck.

“Seb!” (Y/N) exclaimed as they ran to the retired German driver and engulfed him in a hug. Seb chuckled as he returned the hug.

“I was starting to think that you weren’t coming.” (Y/N) said as they broke away from the hug.

“And miss you racing? That’s ridiculous.” Seb said. Someone next to Seb cleared their throat and (Y/N)’s eyes widened.

“Kimi!” (Y/N) immediately wrapped the Finnish driver in a hug, like they did with Seb. Kimi stumbled a bit but did return the hug.

To others, having two former world champions at a Formula One race is a welcoming sight with not much meaning. But to (Y/N), having their former mentor and grid dad here to watch them race meant the whole world.

“You came…” (Y/N) said to the two, voice wavering a bit still in disbelief.

“You called.” Kimi said. (Y/N) smiled.

“Why don’t you show us around the paddock. I’m sure it’s changed since we’ve last been here.” Seb said. (Y/N)’s face lit up as they eagerly grabbed both Seb and Kimi’s hand to start showing them around the paddock

~~~

Seb enjoyed being back at a Formula One race. Being surrounded by the same chaos he once knew gave him a sort of comforting feeling that stayed all the way to race day. And while Kimi wanted to stay in the VIP room to avoid all the crowds and cameras, Seb was down on the grid with all the other celebrities and reporters, walking along the starting grid before the race officially started. He was only able to speak with (Y/N) briefly before their engineer pulled them into a last minute strategy talk. So Seb walked the grid, saying hello to other drivers and previous colleagues as he walked past.

“Look it’s It's former World Champion, Sebastian Vettel.” Sky Sports Reporter Martin Brundle approached Seb during his pre-race grid walk. “How are you Sebastian?”

“I'm doing great Martin. How are you?” Seb asked.

“I’m doing well. It’s good to see you back at a race.” Martin said. “Are you rooting for any team in particular?”

“I'm here to support my grid kid.” Seb said with a smile.

“I’m sure the Ferrari garage is happy to have you back.” Martin said. Seb let out a chuckle and shook his head.

“I’m here to support my other grid kid, (Y/N).”

“Do you think they’ll do well today?” Martin asked. Seb smiled.

“I don’t doubt it. No matter what happens I’ll be rooting for them all the way.” Seb said.

After the national anthem was played, Seb was able to pull (Y/N) aside for a brief moment.

“Good luck. Be safe. Kimi and I will be watching from the VIP room.” Seb said before (Y/N) had to get in the car. He clipped the straps of their helmet, “Remember: Fight like a bull.”

“And sting like a bee!” (Y/N) said with a smile Seb could see peak out from the visor.

“That’s right!” The two high fived and Seb ruffled (Y/N)’s helmet as if ruffling the driver’s hair, before leaving to join Kimi in the VIP room.

Watching the race seemed more stressful to Seb than if he was the one driving it. He tenses anytime (Y/N) gets close to making contact with other cars or anytime they experience oversteering. But he cheers alongside Kimi after every successful overtake.

“(L/N) goes to the outside of Alonso into turn six! Are they going to make it past the Aston Martin? Going into the straight, (L/N)’s within DRS, they pull ahead and (L/N) speeds past as the younger generation leaves the older one in the dust!” Crofty narrates and Seb and Kimi cheer.

“(Y/N)’s got the pace to make it to first.” Seb said. Kimi only nodded as two mens’ eyes stayed glued to the screen. And Seb was right. Soon enough (Y/N)’s car was in P2 with only a 1 second gap between her and Carlos, who was P1. Seb and Kimi watched as the gap got smaller and smaller till (Y/N) was right behind the Ferrari.

“Come on (Y/N)...” Kimi mumbled. The sound in the VIP room seemed to deafen as (Y/N) attempted an overtake on Carlos. The two cars go into the turn right next to each other, wheels centimeters from touching.

(Y/N) pulls out of the turn ahead of Carlos and speeds off to take the lead.

“(Y/N) (L/N) is the new race leader!” Seb and Kimi erupted into applause as their grid kid took the P1 spot. But that didn’t make the stress go away, as there were still a couple more laps to go.

“Come on honey bee, bring it home.” Seb said, rubbing his hands in anticipation. And that’s what (Y/N) did. The gap they had built was enough that no car could catch up to them in the final lap. And as they crossed the finish line, Seb and Kimi cheered and applauded so loud, they were sure (Y/N) would be able to hear it from the track.

“(Y/N) (L/N) WINS THE BELGIUM GRAND PRIX!”

“P1! You are P1, (Y/N)! Congratulations.” (Y/N)’s race engineer said in their ear as (Y/N) almost burst into tears.

“YEEEEESSSSS! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO!” They yelled. They waved to the fans in the grandstands as they slowly did their cool down lap while trying to wipe tears from their eyes.

They eventually pulled their car into parc ferme and parked their car in front of the #1 board. Getting out of the car, (Y/N) beat their chest twice in celebration as they stood on the nose of the car before jumping down and running to their team, who gave congratulatory pats on the head and shoulders.

After the post race interview, (Y/N) started to make her way to the cool down room, passing other drivers along the way who gave their own congratulations to the driver.

“Congratulations, niño/a.” Fernando said as he pulled (Y/N) into a side hug. “I almost had you on that overtake.”

“Sorry that I had to pass you to be able to win.”

“Don’t apologize. Though if you keep winning, I may have to retire.” Fernando said. (Y/N) laughed and shook their head.

“Everyone knows that you’re going to be racing well into 2046 ‘Nando’.” (Y/N) said. Fernando chuckled and patted their shoulder one more time before leaving to meet with his team.

The race winning high was something (Y/N) didn’t want to come down from. As they kept making their way to the cool down room, (Y/N)’s smile continued to grow as their win felt more and more real.

And then there’s Seb and Kimi, waiting for them at the end. (Y/N) didn’t waste any time as they threw themselves into Seb’s arms and gave him a big hug.

“Congratulations, honeybee.” Seb whispered into their ear. “You’re a Formula One race winner.”

“I feel like I’m dreaming.” (Y/N) said as they pulled away from Seb and turned to Kimi.

Kimi didn’t say anything as he patted (Y/N)’s shoulder and pulled her into a side hug. That was ok. (Y/N) didn’t need him to say anything as she turned the side hug into a full one.

“Does this prove that you have to come to more than one race every season? I’m always close to winning when you’re here, Seb.” (Y/N) said.

“Actually, I think this proves that Kimi has to come to your races more often, as you always win when Kimi’s here.” Seb said, patting his friend on the shoulder. Kimi only smiled.

#formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #sebastian vettel x reader #kimi raikkonen x reader #logan sargeant #oscar piastri

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roosterforme · 9 months ago

Text

Smarter Than the Average Beer Boy | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: After months of attending your lectures, Bradley has honed his math skills beyond his wildest expectations. A night out with the boys reveals just how smart and endearing your husband really is, even when he has a hangover.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, drinking, oral sex, shirtless Beer Boy, 18+

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

Happy birthday to @cherrycola27!

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Banner by @thedroneranger Check out my masterlist

You were on your way to teach your last class of the day, and it was your least favorite one. When the class schedules were being organized for next semester, you planned on begging Dr. Rosenthal to let you trade this awful linear algebra class away for one of his calculus lectures. Because at least calculus was something to which you could add a little spice to keep your students interested, unlike this one.

Even though you already ate the snack your husband packed in your tie dye lunchbox, you were still hungry. You'd have to remind him to pack you something extra next Thursday. But as you were on your way to the lounge to quickly get something from the vending machine, you heard his voice.

"Sugar."

You spun around in your loafers and tweed skirt and saw your husband in full khaki uniform heading your way. "Beer Boy. What are you doing here?" you asked, giving up on the idea of a snack and heading in his direction instead. "I'm about to give a lecture."

"I know," he said with a smirk, voice all deep and raspy. "I got dismissed early, and I stopped at home to get you a snack. Thought maybe I could join your lecture tonight since I won't get to spend tomorrow evening with you."

You almost dropped your notebook as you wrapped your arms around his waist and propped your chin on his chest. "Are you my snack?" you asked as he leaned down to kiss you.

"Nor exactly," he laughed, holding up two small containers. "I brought you some homemade hummus and pita chips. But if you want to skip your lecture and head up to your office, I'd be more than happy to fuck you while I feed you."

"Tempting," you told him with a moan. He was always so sure of himself when he was with you, and it was a massive turn on. But when he grinned and started pulling you toward the elevators, you had to dig your loafers in. "I can't let my students down," you said with a little pout. "Come on. You can sit in the back and take notes."

"Nah. I'll just watch my hot wife in action. Take some mental notes that I can think about at the bachelor party tomorrow night."

You rolled your eyes as you took the containers from him. "You'll have so much fun with Jake and the boys, you won't even be thinking about me at all."

"Newsflash, Dr. Sugar," he whispered as you entered the lecture hall with his hand on your butt. "I'm always thinking about you."

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

Yes, it was fun watching you work. Your lectures were informative, and you were very passionate about the subject. You were also gorgeous, and Bradley wouldn't mind watching you do this all day long. And sure, he loved that you wrote a few problems on the board for your students to work through so you could eat the hummus and pita chips he brought. And yeah, he squirmed a bit in his seat when you winked at him from the podium as you licked your fingertip.

But the really interesting thing was the fact that Bradley was getting pretty fucking good at math now. If he could go back to undergrad studies, he might even choose it as his major instead of political science. Nobody ever really encouraged him to show off his smarts after his mom died. Well, besides you. There was something about the way you always recognized that he was intelligent that made him fall even harder for you. And since he knew what it felt like to live without you for ten years, he didn't mind watching you teach the same classes over and over. He just wanted to be around you.

When you asked if there were any volunteers to work through the problem, Bradley was able to follow every detail and come up with the correct answer from his seat. And when you finally ended the class, he went up to the front of the room and kissed your cheek right in front of the straggling students. "Any chance you can bring one of the homework sheets home for me to work on later this weekend?" he asked, stealing your last pita chip.

You looked up at him with adoring eyes, and it wasn't fair, because you knew what those little tweed skirts did to him. "You're really going to work on a problem set?"

"Yeah," he told you with a shrug. "Why not? This class was fun, and maybe you can check my answers and reward me?" he asked hopefully.

"If you want to be my top student, you better get them all correct." You ran your fingers along the front of his khakis as you picked up your notebook and started walking away.

"I'll be so good, Baby," he promised as he followed you out. He was planning on working on the problems on Sunday after he spent all day Saturday recovering from Jake's bachelor party. Tomorrow night was for the boys, but tonight he would be spending with you.

When he got you home, he boiled a pot of water for some of the homemade pasta he made and dried last weekend, and he started heating up some of his homemade sauce and meatballs. "This is so fucking sexy," you whispered, rubbing up on him in your tweed while you sipped a beer. "You are really good at feeding me."

He stole the bottle and drank some. "You're really good at everything else." When he tried to hand it back, you just shook your head and dropped slowly to your knees. He was already a little hard from all the tweed rubbing, but then you kissed his zipper, and his dick responded immediately. "Look at that. I didn't even have to do the math problems."

You grinned up at him while he sipped the beer. "Maybe this is just a little reminder for you to be good tomorrow night when you're out with the boys. No drinking and driving. No letting them get into fights. No playing beer pong without me. If you're good, then there's more where this came from."

Bradley was really enjoying the cold beer as you undid his belt and button before you eased his zipper down. "I'll be so good. I'm a hundred percent domesticated."

You moaned as his cock sprang free, and you rubbed your face against him. "I know." He was about to tell you he'd been that way since the two of you were college seniors, but suddenly all coherent thoughts left his brain. You were gently kissing his balls as you ran your fingers up underneath his shirt and teased his abs. "You're a very good boy."

His cock was throbbing and tapping you on the cheek as your tongue flicked out to taste him. "Sugar," he grunted before sipping the beer again.

"Hmm." You were looking up at him as your lips barely met his skin. "What should I do with you?" Somehow you were making Bradley feel submissive even though you were on your knees for him, and he tipped his head back and groaned.

"Fuck me up, Sugar."

"Gladly," you replied, and he felt your tongue draw a slow and steady line from his tight balls all the way to the head of his cock. Bradley watched as you took the very tip of his bouncing length between your pretty lips. All you did was hold eye contact as you sucked on him like he was a piece of candy, your fingers tickling the trail of hair below his belly button, and he was mesmerized.

"Those pouty lips will be the death of me," he whispered before sipping the beer again. "So fucking pretty." You sucked on him a little harder, and he clenched. Damn, you hadn't even taken him deep yet, and he was already eager. But he didn't care, because you already knew what you did to him.

Then you popped him free, rubbed your nose against his trimmed pubes before kissing his tip and said, "I love you." Then you grabbed him by the hips and let him slide all the way so he was tapping the back of your throat.

"Oh, fuck," he grunted, already thinking about you gagging on his cum. You shook your head slightly when he was deep, and tears filled your eyes as you sucked. Bradley gripped the bottle, his voice only a harsh whisper as he said, "That's it. That's it. Fuck."

A few more deep thrusts had you struggling, which was honestly so fucking hot to him. You were making desperate little sounds, but you bobbed on him until you gagged. And that's really all it took.

You moaned as he filled your mouth, and he ran his thumb along your cheek as you gently sucked every drop from him. "Show it to me," he whispered softly and you smiled as you released him. Slowly, you parted your lips and tilted your face up for him, showing off your cupped tongue full of his cum. "Beautiful."

Then you swallowed him down and kissed his drained balls once more before you stood and took the beer bottle from his hand. Casually, you took a sip like you didn't just leave him twitching before you. "Is dinner almost ready?"

He was still thinking about it the next night when he was out with all the guys. Jake was marrying Jessica in a month, and all he asked for was a night of bar hopping. Normally Bradley would have been very good at this, but he was thinking about the way he'd fed you bites of pasta while standing in the kitchen as you moaned over how delicious it was.

"Come on, Rooster, have a shot," Payback said, passing him some tequila. Just a few drinks would help him focus on the night with the guys. "Bottoms up."

But at first, the drinks just made him think about calling you to see what you were up to. Jessica was supposed to stop by the house to hang out for a while, and he wondered if she was still there. Maybe she left and you were already changed into his Grateful Dead shirt for bed. Maybe he could just get an Uber right now and go home and find out for himself. He'd slip right into bed next to you.

"Time for the karaoke bar!" Javy announced, and then Bradley had more shots in front of him before he ended up onstage, and he couldn't be sure where his shirt went, but oh well, it didn't really matter since his favorite shirt was at home with you, and it was suddenly time to sing.

But he did remember to text you and let you know he'd be home very late.

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

Having the empty house to yourself felt a bit like it did when Bradley was deployed. So in that respect, it made you a little antsy. But on the other hand, it was peaceful when you had Jessica over for some snacks and a glass of wine. It was close to midnight when a bunch of photos came through to your phone and hers.

"Oh no," she groaned as you scrolled through the images from Mickey. It appeared as though Bradley lost his shirt. Typical.

"They are a mess," you muttered, finally getting to one where the guys were physically holding Jake up. "You're going to have your work cut out for you tomorrow."

She shook her head but laughed. "I think I'll head home and wait for him. I don't know if he'll even be able to make it from the front door to the bedroom without help."

"Bradley doesn't look much better," you added as you got to the last photo where he was chugging a beer, the amber liquid dribbling down his neck and bare chest. "Oh Lord."

"Call me tomorrow and let me know how bad it is?"

"Yeah," you agreed, walking her to the door and giving her a hug.

And then you were met with silence again. You changed into Bradley's tie dye shirt and his robe that he'd had since college, but you weren't even slightly tired now. You glanced across the hallway to your office door covered in your own handwriting.

SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY

Working through an advanced calculus problem before bed would definitely help you unwind. You walked to your white board while you looked up a problem on your phone and then scribbled it down and got to work. Oh, this one was a bit tricky with lots of side math to complete first. The squeak of your marker was soothing, and by the time you got to your tenth line in the proof solution, you were yawning.

"Works like a charm," you muttered, capping the marker and heading back across the hall where you climbed into bed.

At one point during the night, you thought you heard Bradley stumble in the front door. "Beer Boy?" you called out, rolling over in bed.

You heard him slur, "It's just me, Sugar," followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening up. He'd come to bed eventually after he got a snack. You scooted back all the way to your side, preemptively trying to avoid him being a sticky, sweaty mess. You smiled and curled up, and you were back to sleep in seconds.

But he never did come to bed, as evidenced by the still crisp bedding on his side when you woke up again at nine. You stretched and climbed out from the pocket of warmth and reached for his robe before you went to search the house.

You started in the kitchen, thinking that being near the refrigerator might have been more appealing than the bed, but he wasn't there. You glanced out back and on the living room couch, but you didn't see him anywhere.

"Bradley?" you called out as you looked in the bathroom, but he hadn't even fallen asleep in the tub. You pressed your lips together as you poked your head inside your office and gasped. "Seriously?"

He was sound asleep on the floor, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and he was snoring loudly. An empty ice cream carton and spoon were next to his head, and it looked like he'd eaten a value sized bag of pretzels. There were a few more wrappers and a lot of crumbs on the floor, and you just gaped at him as he started to roll onto his side and look around.

"What the fuck? Why is it such a mess in here? I just cleaned on Wednesday," he groaned, hair sticking up at every angle. He tilted his head and looked up at you through squinted eyes. "What happened?"

You gave him an incredulous look. "Why don't you tell me?"

He continued to look around the room as he sat up. "I don't know," he replied, pushing the pretzel bag to the side as he cradled his forehead in his palm. "Last thing I remember is the guys making me sing Caress Me Down for karaoke. Where's my shirt?"

Your deep sigh should have been warning enough for him, but he looked down at his abs, shocked that he was only wearing half of his outfit. "Once again, Bradley, why don't you tell me?"

"Baby, how am I supposed to know?" he whined. "God, now I have a fucking hangover, and I can't think."

If Jake was also this bad at the moment, then Jessica might need a reassuring phone call later. Hopefully he hadn't destroyed the carpet in their condo. You needed to get Bradley into the shower and then put him in bed so you could clean up the floor, but your eyes caught on your white board, and you gasped. "Bradley."

"What now?" he moaned as he got to his hands and knees in the crumbs. "My head is throbbing."

Your eyes skimmed from the top of the board to the very bottom, and you started laughing. He was looking up at you, confusion swirling along his handsome features as you had to brace your hands on your knees while you gasped for air and cackled. "Beer Boy!"

"Okay, yes," he grunted. "I'm beginning to think I was actually the one who made the mess in here, but I'll clean it up. It's not that funny."

"Bradley!" you screeched, pointing to the board. "You solved my advanced calculus problem!"

Slowly and seemingly painfully, he turned his head to look and crawled closer to the wall. "I don't think so," he muttered. "I don't even know what all of that means." He was standing on his knees, and trying so hard to figure it out. "Holy shit, that's my handwriting."

"It definitely is," you said through your laughter as you gently combed your fingers through his messy hair. He practically melted against your leg with his big hand on your thigh below his robe. "I am... somehow really impressed by this? You got drunk, got a ride home at four in the morning, and then you solved an advanced math problem before you passed out on my office floor."

"Yeah, I'm impressive as hell," he whispered, kissing you through the robe fabric.

"You know... if you weren't so terribly hungover, I'd offer to blow you again like yesterday. Because this is something only my very best student would be able to do. And I love rewarding my best student."

You stroked his cheek softly with your knuckles as he stared up at you with parted lips. "Professor Sugar," he rasped. "I'm totally fine. Barely hungover at all."

"Are you sure?" you laughed. "You look a little rough. And you made a huge mess."

"Yeah," he replied immediately. "I'm great. Wanna join me in the shower?"

You bent to kiss his forehead and whispered, "If you think you can handle it."

"Hell yes," he groaned, trying three times before he was able to get to his feet. Then he took you by the hand, and you helped him down the hallway to the bathroom.

You pointed out the small closet on the way. "And when we're done, the vacuum cleaner is just hanging out right in there, waiting for you to clean up my office."

"Yeah, okay."

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

Happy birthday, Nik! When you mentioned this idea, it had me cracking up. I hope you enjoy it as a birthday gift one day early! Thanks @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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wttcsms · 2 months ago

Text

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | TWO

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn’t get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn’t just a pro soccer player, but also your ex’s rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

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pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 5.9k chapter synopsis the busier your schedule, the less time you can spend thinking about rin. the only problem is, you see something you can't unsee. nothing a bottle of tequila can't fix, right? (spoiler: tequila isn't fixing a broken heart) chapter contains partying and drinking to cope, diet culture author’s notes i have nothing to insightful to add rn, but send me any asks discussing this fic and i will have a lot to say LOL

From: [email protected] To: [USER EMAIL HIDDEN] Cc: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] + 3 others Subject: 6/19 — [NAME] [SURNAME] AGENDA Attachments: 📎 [6.19 AGENDA.pdf]

All —

Attached is the PDF copy of [Name]’s itinerary for today. Reminder that these times are STRICT. Stay on schedule.

Fumiko Gima

Get Outlook for IOS

Your first alarm goes off at 4:50 AM to what you assume is the noise they play on repeat in hell (By the Seaside, an Apple classic). After waking up, you roll over in your king size bed (the problem with always choosing to go big instead of just going home is the fact that when you’re all alone, the luxury of extra space just becomes empty space) to promptly hit the snooze button. You’ll allow yourself five more minutes of sleep (as a treat). When the second alarm you set up goes off at 4:53 AM (By the Seaside, once again), you scream into your pillow, and shut it off for real this time. You knew you weren’t going to give yourself the full five minutes, but it felt really good to trick yourself into believing that you would. You always start the day with this tiny disappointment; that way, no one has the privilege of being the first person to piss you off.

At 4:54 AM, you slide your feet into your Ugg slippers, readjust the loose straps of your silk camisole, and shuffle into your marble-floored bathroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes, brush your teeth with your pink electric toothbrush, and wash your face. By the time you’re done with your morning skincare, it’s 5:06 AM. You honestly can’t remember the last time you did your own makeup, but you bring your makeup bag with you anyway. If there’s downtime between shoots, you’ll post a faux-GRWM TikTok where you apply three miniscule dots of concealer on your seemingly already flawless skin and add a fresh layer of the brand new, limited edition Rhode peptide lip treatment that Hailey Bieber’s team gifted you. They also gave you twenty grand to do so, with a personal “hey girlie, would love to catch up with you one of these days!! life has been so hectic, sorry for not keeping in touch x btw, i just came out with a new shade of my…” text from Hailey herself. (You replied back with a “yessss, we need to meet up soon!! Also, LOVE LOVE LOVE the new shade omg 😍” — neither of you have any intention for planning a meet-up, and you don’t “LOVE LOVE LOVE” the new shade as much as you “LOVE LOVE LOVE” to deposit a fat check.)

You’re sliding into the backseat of the glossy black SUV parked in front of your driveway at 5:14 AM. Your chauffeur, Benji, holds open the door for you.

“Good morning, Ms. [Surname],” Benji never drops the formalities with you, except for when he’s lecturing you. Thank God he doesn’t own a smartphone; if he saw half the things Daily Mail wrote about you, his voice would be gone from scolding you so much. Even if he’s technically on your parents’ payroll and is paid to make sure you get to and from places safely, it still feels nice to have someone who cares about you enough to call you out on your shit.

The first stop is an exclusive, members-only pilates studio. If you’re home, you have to work out in the morning, no matter what. You like your routine. Out of all the things online magazines put out about you, it’s kind of embarrassing how the most accurate one is revealing how you stay “fit ‘n flawless even after going out every night.” Most people didn’t believe it. Rin got it, though. Rin would actually work out with you, when the two of your schedules aligned, and— Time to start your workout early! Nothing takes your mind off of matters more than focusing on the burn of your core and arms.

By the time you finish your private session, you’re walking out the studio with your puffy tote bag slung over your shoulders. Your body is still a bit damp from taking a quick shower but not drying off properly, and Benji drops you off at your first business stop of the day — ELLE Japan.

You smile brightly as the team of makeup artists surrounding you shower you with compliments. One of the girls brushing on your foundation tells you that you have really nice skin. When she goes in for a second layer, you almost consider rescinding the thanks you gave her.

The set is hectic, as expected. No matter how long these people have been in the industry, no matter how big the host is, something always seems to be going wrong. Apparently, there’s been a mishap over in wardrobe, and ELLE’s people are not very happy with how this is going to delay everything. With your hair and makeup done, there’s nothing for you to do besides sit down, be quiet, and look pretty.

Downtime is the last thing you want. You’re used to a busy schedule, but you convinced Fumiko to accept as many projects as possible. If you have to rank at the top of the list for celebrities who emit the most CO2, then so be it. You’ll pollute the whole damn planet if it means you won’t have a single second to be alone with your thoughts.

At 9:00 AM sharp, you go on your phone to inform your manager that the agenda is fucked. ELLE Japan is definitely going to push back this session with you for at least a good hour, which means Fumiko is going to have to explain to Your Style (the YouTube channel name for a famous fashion commentator who’s amassed nearly twenty million subscribers) why you’re going to be late for the Zoom debrief on what you two are going to talk about in an upcoming video. At 9:02 AM, you receive a text.

juli ᡣ𐭩: u know i love u

It’s two in the morning in Paris. When Juliette said she was going to visit her father, she said it was going to be a much-needed vacation — just something chill and lowkey, like going to all the designer stores and eating croissants on a balcony. Those were her exact words.

juli ᡣ𐭩: [photo attachment]

Somehow, from the neon strobe lights, bodies pressed against one another’s, and the way the image is blurry because she couldn’t get her phone to focus, it feels like Juliette’s “something chill and lowkey” morphed into club-hopping all over France. You roll your eyes with affection. You should’ve known her vacation was going to turn into this; as if Juliette would eat bread for pleasure — she’s been quoted for claiming that carbs are a necessary evil. She probably hasn’t even touched a croissant for the past week she’s been there.

juli ᡣ𐭩: showing u before TMZ posts it juli ᡣ𐭩: [video attachment] juli ᡣ𐭩: do not freak out. not worth it. juli ᡣ𐭩: ugh i knew this club sucked ass for a reason

You wait for the video to load. It’s almost as blurry and unfocused as the original image she sent, but you can tell she had to zoom in pretty hard to capture what she wanted. It’s two figures with a minimal amount of space between them. One of them is definitely a girl; she has the build of the usual French models. A thin, leggy brunette who has mastered the intricate art of Just Had Sex hair. Perfectly messy, but could never be considered sloppy. She’s wearing a sparkly, tight minidress. The fabric shimmers when the strobe lights pass by her body. The person she’s practically pressed up against is a man. Tall, lean. He’s leaning down, presumably so he can hear her better. When the video clip ends abruptly (someone bumped into Juliette, and the video ends with shaky footage and a loud “putain!”), you replay it. And replay it. And then you play it again, just for good measure.

Each time you watch the stupid video, you find something new to notice. Her red lips brushing against his ear. The way his hand hovers near her hip. The way you’re certain she’s smiling when she speaks, like the smirk of a victor. The exact same self-satisfied, smug grin you sport whenever you get a guy right where you want him. Upon every rewatch, though, one thing remains the same: you’re constantly fixated on him.

Right now, it’s two in the morning in Paris. You know that when you weren’t in this fucked up headspace you’re in right now, you’d be in bed, snuggled underneath your blankets, by 11:30 PM. You know that when you felt your best, you could be in bed, whispering in the dark to the person you felt safest with, at 10:00 PM (at the latest, because you both would have a busy day ahead and needed the rest). He likes sleeping early because he likes being well-rested.

So why the hell is Rin Itoshi at a club right now?

At 9:39 AM, ELLE Japan gets right back on track. Before your editorial shoot for a special anniversary edition of the magazine, they get you to sit down to do a video interview that they plan on posting all over their social media.

“This is a very special edition that will be coming out, and you are not only having the biggest spread dedicated to you, but you’re also going to be on the cover. Knowing this, how are you feeling right now, [Name]? This might be the most high-profile photoshoot you’ve done so far in your career, and that’s saying something. You have quite the impressive resume.”

The ring lights are shining directly in your eye. The stool they have you sitting on for this interview is uncomfortable, and you have to focus on remaining balanced. Your back is perfectly straight, and your hands are folded in your lap. You blink, and you see the video playing in your mind. You have God knows how much makeup caked on right now, and you still have a long day ahead of you. Rin is at a club right now. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl, and they’re basically grinding against each other, and he might just have forgotten all about you.

You smile brightly. At 9:40 AM in Japan, you let everyone know,

“I honestly think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been before in my life! This is a great way to establish a sort of, I guess, new era of my life and my career.”

You turn to face the camera directly, giving them a dazzling view of your pearly whites. “Not trying to rush the process or anything, but I am definitely looking forward to seeing how this will all play out in the future.”

You’re operating on autopilot for the rest of the day. The ELLE shoot wraps up close to noon. You forgo lunch, but knowing you and your tendency to skip meals, Benji refuses to start the car until you eat the lunch his wife packed for you. It’s light and refreshing — they want you to eat well, but they’re not cruel. Even if they want to bring you a feast of a nice, hot, home cooked meal, you’ll eat it out of obligation and then suffer the consequences on set when everyone asks why you’re so bloated. You don’t even taste what you’re consuming.

At 12:30 PM, you hop on the Zoom call and pretend to care about discussing matters such as the lack of personal style affecting the younger generations. Every topic is a trivial topic to you. The only thing worth dissecting is that damn video. You should’ve asked those twenty million subscribers to help you analyze that, instead of nodding along when the YouTuber starts going on a rant about how Shein and other fast fashion brands are ruining everything.

Late in the afternoon, you get another text.

kenyu: So the team wants to host a belated birthday party for me lmao. Team’s planning on having it at 10 tonight kenyu: Sending you the address right now

A party is exactly what you need right now. Endless drinks, no need for rational thinking, and you’ll be (mostly) surrounded by people who think models are all vain and vapid. No one there is going to expect a decent conversation from you, and with the state you’re in, it’s a wonder how all your sentences are even making sense.

You give Kenyu’s next message a like in response. You were expecting a club, but when you click on the address, Maps reveals that it’s residential. Rin is gallivanting around European nightclubs, and meanwhile, the best you can do are house parties. This is how the future is playing out?

At least even at your worst, people still think you’re on top of the world.

Maybe life without a man dragging you down and invading your space is for the best. After all, once you got done with all your professional obligations, it’s only eight at night. You’re used to going out with whatever makeup they did for you on set at your last shoot of the day, which is a shame. You have shelves full of makeup that’s been sent to you by different brands, and one of these nights, you plan on just messing around at your vanity.

You like living alone, you decide. You can leave all the lights on if you want, and no one complains about it hurting their eyes. You have full control of the thermostat. You don’t have to fight for counter space in the bathroom. Plus, no one can see how you’re living.

At 9:13 PM, you’re sprawled on the cool marble floor of your bathroom (squeaky clean thanks to the housekeeper you have come once a week), and instead of rewatching that dreadful video and subsequently crying, you had a quick retail therapy session. Your new Prada heels should be coming within the next two days.

You don’t get Benji to drive you. Nobody bats an eye at a rich girl having a driver, but it does seem kind of weird to have him drop you off at a party as if you're a tween girl getting taken to the mall. If the house is owned by one of Yukimiya’s teammates, surely it won’t be too awkward if you had to leave it there because you got too drunk to drive yourself back home?

Because — no offense to Yuki, you’re happy he’s getting another birthday celebration — the whole point of even going to this party is to get fucked up. You already know that Juliette had a point — if not TMZ, then at least Daily Mail will be all over Rin and that girl in the club. If that gets leaked, then you might as well have your own headline to combat his. Sure, lately you’ve been out partying, but that was with other models so it doesn’t raise too many eyebrows. Rin being caught at a club is basically him hard launching the breakup. You need to raise some speculation on your side of things, too.

you: can you get someone to pick up my car from this address tomorrow morning? you: please :)

When you see three dots appear, you smile for real. You can practically hear her sigh and see the shake of her head.

Fumiko Gima: Yes. Fumiko Gima: Be safe.

Aw, maybe your manager does have a heart. Right before you can send her a heart, she adds:

Fumiko Gima: Don’t stay out too late. You have your first shoot at 8 AM.

This is the message you give a heart reaction to. Maybe everything really is just business with her.

You suppose you can’t fault Fumiko for always seeming cold. She’s your manager, not your best friend.

In this industry, her honesty is refreshing. You normally find this to be the case, but you really feel it now when you step into the mansion and hear a cacophony of laughter swarming you from all sides. At every turn, there’s a celebrity with a drink in hand. Everyone’s leaning towards each other, as if they’re so captivated with the other’s words.

You see an actor leading a stumbling model up the spiral staircase. To your side, you see a baseball player chatting up the daughter of one of the baseball league’s board members. Upstairs, someone’s probably snorting a line off Yukimiya’s teammate’s bathroom counter. There are only three reasons why people in your social circle attend these parties: to get fucked, to get fucked up, or to make business deals. Considering the fact that you’ve been here for nearly five minutes and have yet to see a birthday cake — or the belated birthday boy himself — you’re pretty sure everyone here has lot the damn plot for the original celebration.

When you venture some more, you end up in the massive backyard. Some people are drunkenly making out in the pool, some people are watching them, and in a table in the corner, you spot a group of girls giggling and cheering as they all do shots. Perfect. This is exactly where you need to be.

One’s a model; you’ve seen her on a couple pages you flipped through in Harper’s Bazaar. You go up to the table and give her a bright smile.

“Hey, girl! Or should I say Miss Bazaar?” You greet her like how you think people would tease a friend. She’s not your friend; you don’t even know her name. You know she knows your name — everyone here does. And it’s because of the fact that everyone knows you that she lights up when she realizes you’re speaking to her.

A photo op with you guarantees that even if the headline coming out tomorrow is centered on you, she’ll still be in the frame. Daily Mail will add a caption naming everybody from left to right, and she’s planning on being the one captured right next to you.

“[Name]!” She squeals, giving you a quick side hug. “How have you been?”

All your friends, the grand total of exactly two people, know how you’ve been. You grin, pointing to the bottle of tequila they have on their table.

“After how this day has been, I honestly just need a shot.” You play it off like a joke, and as someone pours you one, you add, “Or maybe like five.” They all giggle before throwing back the tequila straight. They might think you’re joking, but this table full of strangers are the first people you’ve been honest with all day.

At 12:15 AM, they aren’t strangers anymore. In fact, you think they might be your best friends in the whole world. You don’t know the lyrics to the rap song blaring through the bass boosted speakers, but you’re laughing as you take another shot. The Harper’s Bazaar girl is doing another shot with you, but she has her phone in her other hand. She makes sure that the both of you are in the frame together, and a second later, she’s tagging you in an Instagram story you don’t bother to view. You’re not even following her.

“Okay, so out of all the guys here, who looks the most fuckable?” One of the girls leans on the table for support as she asks this question. You can’t help but notice how glittery her lipgloss is. Wow, even after all the shots she’s taken, there’s no transfer. Impressive. “I say Theo Sachs.”

“Who the fuck is Theo Sachs?” Harper’s Bazaar asks, and the whole entire table giggles. Honestly, at parties like these, laughing comes easy. In fact, you’re giggling right with them, even though you also have no fucking clue who Theo is. There’s just something so freeing in tequila-induced joy.

“Um, the host of this party?” Glittery Lipgloss says. “Oh my God, girl, he’s like, one of the players for Bastard.”

“The fuck is Bastard?” Another girl asks, adjusting her blue minidress.

“The soccer team!” Glittery Lipgloss is too drunk to be fed up, but you’re sure she would be rolling her eyes if she could.

“I didn’t know we had soccer players here. I only saw baseball players.” Blue Minidress frowns, before adding, “I would totally fuck one of the baseball boys, though. No preference whatsoever. Matter of fact, I could take the whole team.”

Harper’s Bazaar laughs. “What about you, [Name]? Who are you taking home tonight?”

Before you can think of something to say, Glittery Lipgloss groans. “Oh my God, she has a boyfriend.” She looks at you for confirmation. You don’t give her any, but thankfully Blue Minidress has her own insight to add to this conversation.

“So what the fuck does that have to do with her question? [Name], who are you taking home tonight?”

Nobody. Out of every party you’ve gone to this past month, you went back home, completely and utterly alone each and every time. It’s not even because nobody offered — they have — but because no matter how lonely you may get or feel, you don’t like strangers in your space. It took you three months of dating Rin to let him into the penthouse you were originally staying in, and that was with you being in love with him.

Once again, you’re saved from answering when someone behind you goes, “[Name]?”

You turn around, only to come face to face with Yoichi Isagi. On second thought, maybe this isn’t the rescue you thought it was. Drunk You can’t hold back your frown when you see him. He’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and chinos. He looks perfectly business casual and could pass off as an off-the-clock investment banker instead of the world class athlete you’ve heard he is. Then you let out a little snort of laughter, which only makes him look more confused. You don’t want to tell him that it’s kind of funny how normal he looks.

Not in a bad way. You’re surrounded by models for practically the whole day. Looking unattainably hot or having ethereal beauty is the one non-negotiable job requirement. Even Rin, with his stupidly long lower lashes and impossibly high cheekbones and his pretty boy resting sulking face, is serving standards some male models can’t achieve. Isagi looks like the type of guy you would have a crush on if the two of you were completely normal and attended regular high school together.

But that’s not the reality you’re living in. Right now, you’re getting drunk with girls you don’t know, and every night, you’re making headlines. He’s a professional athlete that everyone at this table would gladly fuck just for a chance to be declared social media’s favorite WAG of the Week. The both of you could have your pick of anyone at this party, but you refuse to let anyone in, and you think Isagi might be one of those intense athletes who only care about their sport.

If that’s the case, he’s doing every girl a favor by not pretending he can commit to anything but soccer. You know someone who could use a few pointers.

“Hi,” you mumble, and then you want to slap yourself because why the fuck are you acting like you’re nervous? But for some reason, you feel like you're a kid caught with their grimy hand in the cookie jar, like you’re doing something wrong.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Well, it’s Kenny’s birthday party. Of course, I’d be here.” You cross your arms against your chest, feeling like you have something to prove. Before Yukimiya became his teammate, Kenyu was your friend first. Like, real friend, not just someone you leave supportive comments on their Instagram post type of friend.

Isagi actually smiles when he hears that. “Funny. I think everyone but Yukimiya actually wants to be here.”

You sober up a bit when you hear that. “Yeah, I couldn’t find him anywhere.” Not that you looked very hard. The minute you found this table of girls, you didn’t bother exploring the rest of the mansion.

“He was upstairs with some of the guys. You know that he, uh, doesn’t really like these types of parties.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You don’t seem like the type to like these parties either.” If he was anyone else, you’d be saying this to flirt. You’re honestly not sure what your intention behind this comment was, either. You’re too drunk to decide if you wanted it to be an insult (some way to defend Yukimiya’s behavior?) or just you trying to make conversation for once (you’re not normally one for small talk).

“Caught me.” Isagi smiles easily. From now and thinking back to Yukimiya’s birthday lunch, Isagi is rarely not smiling. You wonder if he means it. Surrounded by people who only let you drink with them because being seen with you elevates their own status, you decide that the answer to that is a probably not. “I was about to head out before I thought I saw you, and I wanted to come by and…” For a second, he pauses to choose the right words to say. “Just wanted to see if it really was you.”

“Well, you saw me. Guess your business is done here.” Then you swiftly turn your back to him, as if to abruptly end the conversation. Instead, you’re drunker than you realize, and your heel ends up being wedged deeper into the grass than you expected, and you lose your balance. You think you might fall, which would be so embarrassing, but maybe not as embarrassing as what actually ends up happening.

What actually ends up happening is that Isagi is quick to wrap his arm around your abdomen, pulling you close to him as he attempts to keep you steady and upright. The girls looked shocked, but then they burst into another round of giggles, and since you’re not joining in the laughter, all you can think about is how annoying they are. You squirm around in his grasp, ignoring the whiff of fresh laundry you get from being all up in his personal space (not by choice!!!; he’s the one that pulled you in, after all!), and he releases you.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks you. It’s hard to glare at him when he looks so genuinely concerned.

“Never better.”

“Do you have a ride home?”

What does it matter to you? Is what you want to say.

“I’ll call an Uber.” You lie, hoping that this will end the conversation once and for all. Seriously, Isagi just killed the whole vibe of the party for you. You want to go back to drinking.

“But I thought you didn’t do Ubers.” When Isagi calls you out on your bullshit, you soften momentarily. You almost forgot that he heard about your weird thing of having strangers know your home address. Then, you go back to giving him the cold shoulder. Sometimes, it’s a warm and gooey feeling to be known. Right now, you want to drown your sorrows in tequila and be showered with fake affection by girls who probably don’t even like you sober. You didn’t come to this party to be known. You came here for revenge.

(You’re not going to acknowledge how drinking your sadness away isn’t necessarily showing up Rin, but for nearly an hour straight, you hadn’t thought about him, and that’s good enough.)

When you have no response to that (wit doesn’t come easy when you’re in the condition you’re in right now), Isagi looks at you imploringly.

“Let me take you home.”

You shake your head childishly, almost saying nuh-uh. “Just because you don’t like this party doesn’t mean I don’t like it. I’m staying right here.”

He finally frowns. “Fine. I’ll wait for you to finish up here, then I’ll take you home.”

“I’m with my friends right now. Leave me alone.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Which friend is going to make sure you get home safely? Yukimiya already left early.” Despite the two of you not knowing what the other is thinking, you both give wry smiles about that statement for the same reason. The party is still going on strong, despite the guest of honor not wanting to show his face and leaving early.

“These are my best friends.” You gesture to the trio of girls you know nothing about, besides the fact that they can keep up with your drinking habits. They all smile at Isagi, who waves back before turning his attention back to you.

“Really?” He asks. “What’re their names again?”

No one has anything to say to that, especially you. When the silence gets too awkward, Isagi clears his throat and also puts his foot down.

“I’m taking you home, [Name].”

You look at the trio of strangers you just spent hours with. Harper’s Bazaar shrugs, and the other two look away. The sting of not knowing who they are, despite them obviously having enough notoriety to be invited, makes your “best friends” not your friends anymore. Whatever.

“Fine.” You grumble, following Isagi to his car.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Is what he asks you as he signals to make a turn. The clicking of the turn signal is the only thing that fills the silence in the car.

No.

Sometimes, it’s fun in the moment, but that’s only when you’re drunk enough to trick yourself into thinking you’re having a good time. You’re more like Yukimiya (and — gross — Isagi) than they know; the whole “It Girl dominates the party scene” vibe you’ve got going on… It’s just bullshit that your PR team mixes together to get people talking. The high of being adored by everyone in a room vanishes almost immediately the minute you go home and wash off your makeup. In the bright lights of your bathroom, you stare at the sad, lonely girl in the mirror. It’s too dark outside for you to see anything out the window, but you lean your head against the cool glass, and before you know it, you’re waking up…

To Isagi groping you?

You’re groggy and confused and trying to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes, but Yoichi Isagi is definitely all up on you. You’re shocked, honestly. He looks like such a sweet guy! No wonder he was so pushy in getting you home.

He’s holding you in some awkward side hug, and he’s patting down your waist, trying to slip his fingers through the fabric of your dress, and finally, because he must be a novice-level pervert who doesn’t know the first thing about female anatomy, you speak up.

“Gross! You can’t even feel up a girl properly! No wonder you take advantage of drunk, vulnerable girls!”

“Ah!” He jerks back, shocked that you’re awake. Serves the pervert right. He should be backing up. You took a month of kickboxing classes (your modeling agency thought it would be the next big thing, since all the Victoria Secret models kickbox — they were wrong). “I-I wasn’t feeling you up!”

“Then why were your hands all over me?”

“I was looking for your key! You were asleep, and you looked like you needed it, so I just carried you to your door, but it’s locked.”

Oh. Likely story. You’re not letting him off the hook just yet.

“Obviously my front door would be locked, dumbass. Who doesn’t lock their house?” You point to the perfectly trimmed hedges by your door. “Key’s in the bushes.”

Since you’re making no moves to get down on your knees and rifle through the bushes, Isagi sighs and does it himself. When he holds up the key, you nod in thanks, take it, and then proceed to unlock the door using your fingerprint.

He blinks. “What?”

“What?” You repeat back, innocently.

“You didn’t even need the key to unlock the door!”

“Yes, Isagi. Modern technology is something, isn’t it?” And because you feel kind of bad, you offer him the chance to wash up before driving back.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Isagi says from the kitchen sink. You’re sitting on a stool by the counter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing bad.” He clarifies. “It’s just… Rin’s a pretty private person. We always wondered what his girlfriend must be like. Sorry.” He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands. “Ex-girlfriend, I guess.”

“How do you know that?” You’ve been racking your brain, wondering if Yuki spilled your secret accidentally. Or — even worse — Rin himself confirmed it. Rin never even told anyone explicitly that the two of you were dating, so it’s not plausible that he would go blab about the breakup.

“Well, I didn’t really know for sure until I drove you home that first time.” He admits. “I just thought you made a weird face when I mentioned Rin during lunch, and then you started acting funny afterwards. Just had a hunch, that’s all.”

Great. So, Isagi, who’s basically a stranger to you, could read you to filth. Is there anyone else that you haven’t been fooling? How embarrassing. Being perceived sucks.

You don’t say anything else. You can hear Isagi mumbling about something, and you make a half-hearted noise in reply, but you’re sleepy and drunk and coming to the realization that you can’t keep fooling everyone around for long. There’s no point in dancing around the topic of your breakup. It’s getting tiring, anyway.

It is pretty exhausting to be pining after someone who’s not coming back.

Because that’s why you’re trying so hard to keep the breakup a secret. Partly for pride, but mostly because… You’re hoping that after learning everything there is to know about you, Rin Itoshi wouldn’t go so far to cut you so deeply by leaving you. Right? He understood your level of loneliness like no one else, and he related to it. For the first time in both of your lives, the two of you suddenly found the right person to fill in all the empty spaces.

And then he left, and the emptiness just continues to grow in infinite amounts.

You groan as you move around, only to find that you’re moving on top of your bed. You’re tucked into your sheets, and your hair is splayed across your pillow. You turn your head and see a shadowy figure exiting out your bedroom door.

“You’re leaving, too?”

Your throat is dry, and the words come out small. You hate this feeling of hopelessness and vulnerability, and the figure pauses in his steps.

He hushes you gently. “You should go to sleep. You’ve had a long night.”

“Fine. Don’t stay. I don’t care.” You burrow yourself further into your blankets.

“Do you really want me to stay?”

At one in the morning, covered in the darkness of your bedroom, you turn every shadow into Rin Itoshi. You don’t know what you mumble in response, but you know that whatever you said, it’s directed towards him.

#yoichi isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x you #isagi x reader #one shot #fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #rin itoshi x reader #smau #series: if you feel like falling

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aemondsbabe · 11 months ago

Text

The Queen

summary: dairy/letters & lingerie kink || alicent stumbles across a secret of yours and is more than happy to make it come true

pairing: modern!alicent x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, pre-established relationship, dom!Alicent, sub!reader, queen honorifics used in the bedroom, lingerie kink, use of a leather crop, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, thigh riding, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.3k

a/n: happy day seven of 12 days of smuff!! i went into a fugue state and wrote 10 pages in 2 hours. the hold that olivia cooke has on me should be studied by science. anyway.

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @olliviacooke

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Alicent’s POV

She was humming, swaying her hips to a new album she’d downloaded earlier that week as she smoothly moved the duster along the wooden surface of your nightstand, careful as she guided it between the lamp and the small potted plant you loved so much. Getting a bit too into the music she was listening to as she tidied up your shared bedroom, though, she accidentally bumped against the growing stack of books on your nightstand.

“Shit!” Alicent hissed as a few went tumbling to the ground. Sighing, she bent down to grab them, half-heartedly cursing you for insisting on buying new books before you’d finished the ones you had.

“Huh?” She wonders outloud, pausing the music on her phone when she sees her name scrawled in your familiar handwriting. Her fingers brush over the soft, leather bound book as she picks it up, her lips pursing as she reads the words “Personal Journal” embossed on the front in fancy gold lettering. Her brown eyes widen and quickly glance around the room, despite the fact that she knows she’s the only one home. Biting her lip, she runs a finger over the spine of your diary, weighing her options. On the one hand, she knew it would be a horrible invasion of your privacy to look but… well, what if it was something important?

She shook her head at the thought. She wasn’t going to be one of those snooping partners! You already told her everything anyway, it’s not like there would be anything in your diary she didn’t already know! You were basically an open book, in fact, it was one of the things she loved most about you – your willingness to be so honest and transparent.

No, she thought, carefully setting the diary back on your bedside table, I’m not going to! I’m simply –

Okay, sue her. She’s only human and her name was right there! She’d make it up to you.

Glancing around one more time, she flipped open the leather-bound book, flipping through it to the page she’d spotted a moment ago. She found it pretty quickly and nervously bit on a nail as her eyes scanned over the page, noticing the date first. It was from only about a week ago. She read on.

I’m not even sure how to bring up the topic, it doesn’t really seem like something you’d just bring up at the dinner table? Like, “Oh, honey, yeah work was great today! Kevin from accounting is finally getting married, I know! Can you believe it? Oh. yeah, one more thing! Can you boss me around in the bedroom like a drill sergeant?” I mean, come on.

What if she isn’t even into it? What if she wants to be the submissive one? I don’t think Alicent’s totally vanilla, I mean, there have been so many sparks of… something. Sometimes she tells me to do something, usually innocuous like making sure the door’s locked before we leave or to get the laundry hamper from the closet but… God, the way she says it makes me shiver. And when she’s talking on the phone to someone at work? That authoritative voice makes me melt.

Sigh. I just need to find the courage to ask.

Alicent finally finished the entry and looked up from your journal, blinking as thoughts raced through her head. After a minute, she closed the notebook and placed it carefully back on your bedside table, just like it was before it fell off the table.

She could barely keep the smirk off her face as she grabbed her purse and keys and shut the front door behind her, a devious, delicious plan quickly forming in her head.

She knew exactly how to make up for her actions.

Reader’s POV

You sigh as you unlock the front door, quickly tossing your keys into the small bowl on the entryway table before kicking off your shoes.

“Babe?” You called, furrowing your brows at how unusually quiet the house was. Alicent’s car was in the driveway and normally she’d be playing music by the time you got home but today… nothing. You’re about to call out again when the sound of heels clicking down the hallway makes you stop in your tracks, your bag falls from your hand as your girlfriend finally appears from around the corner.

“Good day at work?” Alicent asks coolly, tilting her head as she leans against the doorway. Meanwhile, you feel dumbstruck as your eyes scan over her appreciatively, taking in every dip and curve as if you’d never seen any of them before. Your eyes skim over her outfit, a black, lacy bustier perfectly framing her chest, with a matching black thong clinging to her soft hips, fishnet stockings held up by an enticing garter belt, all the way down to black, pointed toe heels. She’d even taken the time to straighten her usually curly hair, smoothing it down into a clean, nearly intimidating style.

She smirked, brown eyes sparkling at your awe-struck expression, smiling when your eyes finally landed on her face; you couldn’t help but swallow when you saw that she was wearing that expensive red lipstick she only brought out for special occasions, the one you love so much.

Her heels click on the wood floors as she strides over to you and it’s only then you realize that she has something in her hand – a black leather crop. The sight of it makes your knees weak.

“I asked you a question, baby,” she says gently, locking eyes with you as she gently cups your cheek with in her hand, “It would be rude not to answer.” There’s a hard edge to her voice that makes you lose what little train of thought you had.

“I… uh,” you stutter, blush rising to your cheeks as you stare helplessly at her, fighting to keep your gaze locked on hers, “W-Work was good, yeah. Same as… as usual.” You finally finish, your chest already heaving as you rub your thighs together, desperate before you even know what’s going on.

“How wonderful,” she smirks and leans in, giving you a sweet kiss like she normally would, but today it has your head spinning, “What do you think of my little surprise?” She asks, though there isn’t really a question in her tone – she already knows your answer.

“I love it,” you breathe, hardly giving her time to finish speaking as you let your gaze wander over her yet again. “What, uhm,” you cough nervously, “What gave you the idea?”

She smiles again, shrugging; you nearly jump out of your skin when she softly runs the leather crop up the inside of your thigh, starting at your knee and stopping tantalizingly close to your core. “Just got the sense that maybe you’d be into it…” She says casually, like you’re talking about the weather, “Was I right?”

All you can do is nod your head, but that’s not good enough, apparently. Her eyes narrow and she wraps a hand around your neck, not too harshly, mostly just sitting it there but it’s enough to make you whimper in the back of your throat, breath catching as her perfectly manicured red nails just barely dig into your delicate skin. “I don’t think that’s the proper way to address me, is it?” She coos, a faux pout to her lips.

“N-No,” you say shakily, your eyes searching hers, “No… ma’am?” You try, inwardly cringing at how your voice squeaks.

She clicks her tongue like a disappointed mother, the sound going straight between your legs, as she fixes you with an intense stare. “Baby, you know how I sometimes call you princess?” She asks, smiling proudly when you eagerly nod, “Well, tell me. Who’s more in charge than a princess?”

Your throat goes dry and you swallow thickly, darting your tongue out to wet your lips before speaking. “T-The queen?” You ask softly, pride feathering out in your chest like the train of a peacock when she smiles and nods again.

“That’s right!” She praises, almost as if she was speaking to a child; perhaps you should be offended at her condescending tone, but, if anything, it just makes your heart beat faster. “The queen. Do you want me to be your queen today, sweet one?” Again, you nod, so she continues. “So, address me properly.”

“Yes, my queen.” You breathe the words, core clenching softly around nothing.

“Very good,” she praises, leaning in and lightly brushing her lips over the pulsepoint on your neck, “Do you want to keep being a good girl for your queen?”

“Yes, your grace, please.” You say with an eager nod, feeling like you’ll explode if she doesn’t touch you, or so something soon.

“Then be good for me and go to the bedroom,” she nods as she speaks, her big brown eyes looking directly into yours, “And strip.” She finishes coolly, leaving you no room to argue.

You nod quickly and practically leap down the hallway, blushing when you hear her giggling behind you. As soon as your feet hit the soft rug in the bedroom, you tug at your clothes, quickly shedding your sweater and work trousers before unclipping your bra and sliding your underwear down your legs, haphazardly shoving everything into the hamper because you just know she’ll say something about the mess if you don’t. Finally, not knowing what else to do, you stand by the bed, arms clasped in front of you.

She doesn’t make you wait long and you bite your lip in anticipation as her heels click slowly down the hallway, smiling shyly when you finally meet her gaze again as she enters the room. Just like you knew she would, her eyes immediately dart to the hamper and her smile widens when she sees your clothes from today resting on top.

“What a good girl I have,” she praises as she saunters over to you, her hips swinging enticingly as she moves. Without another word, she sits on the edge of the bed and gently places the crop down next to her on the bedspread, before she beckons you over with a crook of her finger, “You like your queen’s special surprise for you, huh?” She questions, tilting her head as she peers up at you, her hands resting gently on the curve of your hip.

“Yes,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to her cleavage before you can help yourself and it’s only then that you notice that she’s breathing nearly as hard as you are, a blush extending down her pale neck and chest, “I love it, my queen, so much.” You nearly whisper, dizzy at the thought that she might be enjoying this just as much as you are.

“Don’t you think you should thank me for your surprise, princess?” She asks coolly, smirk widening as she sees a look of realization in your eyes.

“Yeah, yes, please,” you nearly beg, already tempted to sink to your knees.

She smirks at your eagerness, all but laughing when you whine as she pushes herself back further, out of your grasp and into the center of the bed, making enough room for you in front of her. Again, she crooks her finger and you hastily follow after her, kneeling between her fishnet-covered legs. With another smirk, she silently spreads her legs, bending them at the knee enough that the heels of her shoes dig into the bedspread.

Something between a gasp and a whimper escapes your lips as you let your gaze travel down, between her legs, where you’re met with the shocking realization that the black thong she has on is indeed crotchless. Your eyes stay glued to her center, now beautifully framed by two strips of lace fabric; the sight makes you lick your lips without thinking, taking in the way her folds shimmer, even in the low light of the bedroom. Finally, you manage to rip your gaze away and lock eyes with her again, your blush deepening at the hazy look in her eyes as she leans back on her elbows.

“Go on, princess,” she breathes, that familiar, aroused rasp finally present, “Thank your queen.”

You spring into action, wrapping your hands around her soft thighs as you lean in, kneeling between her legs. Your eyes flutter as you look up the length of her body while you press soft, sweet kisses to the inside of her thighs, your eyes widening when you see her lean over and quickly grab the crop.

You jolt as she brings it down, smacking one ass cheek with it, not enough to hurt but enough to leave behind a pleasant little zing. “I don’t believe I asked you to tease me,” she admonishes, a playfulness to her tone still as her other hand brushes into your hair, red nails scratching soothing against your scalp, “Thank me properly.” She commands, guiding your head to exactly where she wants it.

You’re more than happy to obey and you press a kiss to the center of her folds, right on her clit, moaning against her as you feel it twitch against your lips. She lets out a breathy moan as your tongue licks a long, straight line up her center, right down the middle, before your lips gently seal around her bud.

Your eyes flutter closed again as you softly suck at her clit, moaning lowly in your throat at her familiar sweet taste. You move in just the way she likes, kissing and licking over her heat with a practiced ease, pride blooming in your chest with every moan, whine, and sigh of your name. You shake your head against her, attempting to bury your tongue in her twitching core as the tip of your nose teases her clit, your chin dripping with her when you finally pull back.

“Princess, fuck,” she breathes above you, head tilted down so she can watch as you feast on her, “Fuck me, come on.” She orders, giving another sharp little spank to your bum with the crop.

You do as she says, smiling as you flick your tongue over her bud while you glide two fingers through her folds, making sure to get them nice and wet before you slide them carefully into her, relishing the long moan she lets out as you do. You can’t help but whimper as her walls clamp down tightly, pulsing around your fingers as you crook them up in the way you know she loves, your lips sealing softly around her clit again, eyes fluttering as you watch her chest heave.

“Good fucking girl,” she whimpers, accentuating each word of praise with another slap of her crop against you, the pleasant sting you clench around nothing, “Make your queen come, princess, good girl.” She moans, tilting her head back as you redouble your efforts.

Your arm aches as you fuck your fingers into her, keeping them quirked up against that small rough patch within her, but you pay it no mind, focusing only on the hand in your hair and the taste of her in your mouth, your hips canting desperately in the air.

You flick your tongue against her bud once more, in just the right way, and it sends her over the edge with a gasp. You moan into her as the hand in your hair tightens and her walls rhythmically squeeze against your fingers, nearly tight enough to push them out. You move steadily, bringing her through her high as you have so many times before, only stopping when she finally goes lax against you.

You press kisses against her thighs and hips as she comes down, breathing heavily above you. Eventually, the hand in your hair tightens once more, and you sigh happily as she pulls you up.

“You did so good,” she praises softly, her voice breathy as she presses her lips against yours; she moans softly as your tongue licks into her mouth before she pulls away to trail kisses down your neck, “So good for your queen, my sweet princess.” You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut as you straddle her, one of her legs between yours.

Your eyes shoot open as she bends her leg, pressing her fishnet covered thigh firmly against your center with a knowing smirk. “Goodness,” she gasps, her beautiful brown eyes widening once she feels how wet you are against her, “I think you deserve a reward too, for treating your queen so well.”

“Please, holy shit,” you gasp, your hips already moving on her leg, the pattern of her stockings adding a delicious friction, “P-Please, your grace.” You quickly correct yourself when she brings her crop down once more, making your back arch.

“Good girl,” she whispers, mouthing at your neck. She lets the crop fall to the bed again as she cups your ass with both hands, guiding your hips as you move against her, “Take what you need, princess, you earned it.” She breathes, smirking as you shudder above her.

You nod mindlessly, swallowing thickly as you already feel the knot in your stomach tightening dangerously, each drag of your clit over her stockinged thigh sends shockwaves up your spine. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier as you get closer and she smiles happily, bouncing her thigh against your wet core in the way she knows drives you insane.

“My beautiful little princess,” she whispers, red lips ghosting over your chest, “Behaving so well for her queen.”

You fall apart once her lips seal around one of your nipples, sparks of pleasure bursting behind your eyelids as she carefully sucks the sensitive bud into her mouth, gently teasing at it with her teeth. Your body tenses up as your walls clench again and again, your fingers grabbing at the sheets as you gasp her name.

Finally, your eyes flutter open as your high subsides. Thankfully, you have just enough presence of mind to roll to the side, cuddling against her as your chest heaves.

“Holy shit,” you breathe through a small laugh, your face flushed as your eyes meet hers.

“So, you liked it?” She asks, a shy lilt to her voice now that both of you have had the chance to come down.

“Liked it?” You question, staring at her wide-eyed, “I… I loved it. That was incredible.” You breathe, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder, “Where on earth did all that come from?”

She giggles softly, a guilty look appearing on her face. “Promise you won’t be too upset with me?” She asks softly.

“Of course,” your reply is instant as you card your fingers through her soft hair, “Just tell me.”

“I was cleaning a few days ago, when I had that day off,” she explains, swallowing as you nod along, “And I… may have accidentally knocked your diary off the table and then got curious when I saw my name and… yeah.” She finishes, teeth biting at her lower lip.

Your face reddens a bit, instantly knowing which entry she must’ve seen, but you merely shake your head, about to tell her not to worry about it when she starts speaking again.

“I do feel really bad about it,” she sighs, continuing quickly, “I know it’s a breach of trust but I saw my name and then… I’ll make it up to you, I pr – !”

She gasps as you cut her off with a sweet kiss, shaking your head dismissively, “Consider it made up.”

“You aren’t mad?” She asks hesitantly.

“Mad?” You echo, laughing softly, “My sexy girlfriend bought ridiculously hot lingerie, and a riding crop, just to surprise me and fucked me to within an inch of my life and I’m supposed to be mad at her over a little diary?” Both of you dissolve into a fit of giggles as you finally finish, nuzzling happily against each other, “I think not.” You quip, smirking as your eyes search hers.

“Okay, yeah,” she says with a small eye roll, “I am pretty great, huh?”

“And oh so humble,” you laugh, pressing kisses over the curve of her shoulder before leaning back to smirk at her, “Your majesty.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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vamphrrr · 10 months ago

Note

Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

356 notes · View notes

wilbursprincess · 9 months ago

Text

Arranged Marriage With Princebur

Princebur x Reader

Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angsty towards the end :D

Hi Tumblr. I wrote this as a ‘crack fic’ (mostly just self indulgent) but was so proud I figured you all deserved it too :) If you’ve read parts 1-4 of my Princebur headcannons, then this is familiar, but if not, you’re in for a treat! This is very loosely inspired from one of my favorite books of all time, ‘The Giver Of Stars’ by Jojo Moyes.

Fic below cut!

When my parents sat me down one day, I knew the news couldn’t be good.

The king and queen of my country were getting older, and all the newspapers were talking about their son, Wilbur, soon to take over the throne, wondering who would be his bride. I’d seen him, a black-and-white photo adorning these articles, and secretly felt sorry for whoever he’d be forced to marry. The royal family was big on arranged marriages. How else would they get more heirs to the throne?

“We’re going to the castle for tea,” my mother explained briskly. “The queen was aware you’re her son’s age, and-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupt, gaining a sharp glare from my father. “You want to marry me off to a prince?”

My father smiles, though it’s far from warm. “Well, hopefully, if they take liking to you.”

“Have you considered I don’t want to be forced into a loveless marriage, just to be a vessel for heirs to the throne?” I say, both my parents’ gazes turning stony.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother snapped. “It’s a great honor to marry into the royal family. Wilbur’s a good man. Handsome, even.”

Sure. Wilbur’s handsome, if you like the snobby prince look.

“Go get ready,” my father adds, getting up from the table. “Wear your nicest dress, and try and do something with your hair. It looks like you rolled around in a barn.”

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” the queen simpered, giving me a watery smile. “You look lovely. Just like a future princess should.”

Lovely?

The corset my mother cinched me into was so tight, I couldn’t take a deep breath in, a trickle of sweat running down my back. My best shoes hadn’t been worn in over a year, and they were slightly too small, with a blister already forming on my heel. The heavy makeup caked on my cheeks and eyelashes felt thick. Maybe this was why all the royals looked miserable all the time.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, forcing a smile when my mother nudges me under the table. “These cakes are delicious.” That wasn’t a lie, however, my father had stopped me from taking more than one. Probably on the grounds that it wasn’t ‘ladylike’.

The queen forces another smile. “Our cooks here are very talented, dear. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you marry Wilbur. They’ll wait on you hand and foot.”

I force my face into what I hope is an impressed expression.

I might complain about the chores at home, but I’d be bored silly without them. What would I do, just sit around all day? And wait, wait, did she say ‘when’?

“Did you say, ‘when’ she marries Wilbur?” My father says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

The king nods. “We did. Your daughter is exactly what we’re looking for in a bride for our son. She has lovely composure, perfect manners, and we can tell Wilbur’s already taken a liking to her.”

I sneak a glance over at Wilbur, who gives me the tiniest smile. Begrudgingly, I had to admit he was vaguely handsome. Sharp jawline, refined features, slightly messy brunette curls, and sparkling deep brown eyes.

Maybe this won’t be too bad.

“They’ll make such perfect babies,” my mother adds, the queen nodding her agreement. Snatching my eyes away from Wilbur, I pick up my now-lukewarm tea to hide my embarrassment.

Nevermind.

“So it’s agreed?” My father asks.

The king smiles. “It’s agreed. We’ll get to wedding planning right away. Everyone loves a good royal wedding. It’ll bring the country together.”

I’d never seen such a ridiculous waste of money before. The newspapers were eating up any tidbit they could about the wedding, and all the headlines made me groan.

‘Wilbur’s bride-to-be rumored to walk down the aisle in a pure silk gown!’

‘The royal family reported to be buying the future princess an entire wardrobe of velvet and silk, complete with jewlery to match!’

‘Royal wedding to be decorated with thousands of roses!’

I did my best to avoid looking at the bold headlines on the papers that piled up on my kitchen table.

My parents were over the moon, helping me pack up my belongings in preparation for moving into the castle. Or, rather, they were deciding which of my belongings belonged in the castle.

“Why would you bring such an old dress? They’ll just buy you a new one.”

“Those shoes are dreadful. A princess should only be seen in heels!”

In the end, I ended up with just a suitcase of clothes, shoes, and the occasional personal belonging my parents let slide.

My mother decided to teach me all about how to raise children, complete with handing me a satchel of all my old baby clothes and teaching me how to pin a cloth diaper on an old teddy bear. She also had to give me ‘the talk’ about how I’d go about having these babies, which left me horrified.

“Don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “It’s natural. It’s how you were made.”

My father took it as his responsibility to teach me about royal etiquette. He’d once worked as a servant, and had decided it was up to him to drill everything into my head.

“No! Head up, shoulders back, heel-toe walking.”

“You sip tea with your pinky finger out! And stop slouching!’

Honestly, if they were sending me off to work on a farm, I’d be more excited.

“You may now kiss the bride!”

I force myself to stay calm as Wilbur’s rough lips brush mine, and the entire church errupts in cheers and applause. It was sealed. I was now a princess.

Wilbur offers me his arm, and I take it, letting him lead us back down the velvet-covered aisle. I force myself to relax and smile, waving elegantly to the people in the pews, just as my mother drilled into me.

He helps me into the shiny new carriage, drawn by two shiny white horses, flicking their braided tails. More velvet on the inside of the carriage, all the metal features pure gold.

“Is ‘congratulations’ appropriate?” Wilbur says, breaking the very tense silence.

I shift against the seat uncomfortably, the lace edges of my gloves chafing my skin. “I think so.”

“Well, then, congratulations,” he adds, slightly awkwardly. “And sorry.”

He’s sorry?

“What are you sorry for?” I ask, finally looking him in the eyes.

Wilbur sighs. “You didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did, actually, but you especially.”

The heavy silence is even worse when the entire country seems to be cheering us on.

“I promise I’m not that bad,” I offer, and Wilbur cracks a smile.

Neither of us speak for the rest of the ride, and when we arrive at the castle, two men dressed to the nines open the doors. I go to hop out, but Wilbur gently stops me.

“I’m supposed to help you,” he whispers softly.

Luckily, the photographers didn’t seem to catch my slip up, and I accept Wilbur’s hand to step out onto the grounds of my new home. My heels are hurting my feet, and I’m exhausted, but I fix a smile on my face and walk through the grand front doors.

“Well, happy wedding night, darling,” the queen says, kissing both my cheeks with a flourish and handing me a paper-wrapped package. “Just something to make tonight better for you both.”

I accept with a smile, trying not to think about what the package is, before turning and heading up the main staircase to Wilbur and I’s new bedroom.

Wilbur’s not in the room when I walk in, so I flop into the middle of the bed and cautiously unwrap the package. Something small and silky slips onto the sheets, and I unfurl the bundle to see a baby-pink, silk nightgown, the deep neckline and hem lined with lace. I hold it up to my body, seeing it barely reaches my knees.

The door opens, and I drop the nightgown, turning around to see Wilbur carrying in a massive amount of packages.

“Wedding gifts,” he explains, setting them down next to another huge pile I didn’t notice earlier. “Mother wants us to open them before we go to bed. And I have a suspicion-” he indicates a lot of tiny parcels. “-that I know what these are.”

Wilbur tosses them all to me, grabbing several himself before joining me on the bed to unwrap them.

“It’s shoes for you,” he says, handing me a pair of dainty red heels. “What’s in that one?”

I rip open the package and sigh. “A hat for a baby.”

He nods, opening the next one. “Some jewelery for you.”

“Baby shoes and socks.”

“An evening gown.”

“A baby blanket.”

“Some cufflinks.”

“Baby clothes.”

Wilbur gently stops me before I reach for the next one. “I’m detecting a theme.”

“Me too,” I sigh, showing him the nightgown. “Your mother gave me this.”

His dark eyes widen. “Thats…” he trails off, swallowing. “A nightgown.”

“Uh, yea,” I reply. “It’s a nightgown.”

Another awkward silence.

“Look,” Wilbur says, starting to gather up the gifts. “It’s been a long day, and we’ve still got something to do before we can get some sleep. I’ll clean up here, you go get ready, ok?”

Something to d- oh. That.

I nod, grabbing the nightgown and scrambling for our bathroom.

The nightgown is certainly… something.

It seemed far too inappropriate a gift from my now-mother-in-law, as I look at myself in the mirror. Everything is covered, sure. Just barely.

The lace scoops dangerously low in the front, raising dangerously high at the back, and is so thin, it leaves nothing to the imagination.

Now I see what she meant.

There’s a sharp tap on the door. “You ok in there?” Wilbur asks. “You, uh, ready for bed?”

“Yea, I’m good,” I lie. “Just, uh, putting on the nightgown.”

A solid 5 seconds of silence.

“Can I see?” Wilbur’s voice comes out a lot more desperate than either of us was expecting. “I mean, if it’s ok with you-”

When I open the door, his eyes widen, taking in every single inch of silk, lace, and skin. “You…” Wilbur trails off, eyes everwhere but my face. “It’s definitely a nightgown.”

My face burns. “It is.”

“You go get comfortable, and I’ll, uh, get ready.” He says, trying to sound casual.

The bathroom door shuts behind him, and I get into our new bed. The only upside is that our bed is massive, so it’s not like I’ll be spooning the guy every night.

I blink open my eyes as the bathroom door opens, and my new husband walks out in nothing but a pair of striped silk pajama pants, sitting low on his hips. He gets into bed next to me, hesitantly setting a hand on my thigh.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Wilbur murmurs, a caring note in his voice I hadn’t heard before. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

I feel a new but welcome warmth blooming in my chest, both from the pet name and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m ready.”

Imagining what would happen on the wedding night, and actually doing it, were two different things. Two very different things.

I expected him to do what he needed to do pretty quickly, roll over, and we’d both go to sleep. Something I’d just lie there through.

Oh God, was I wrong.

There was something otherworldly about our two bodies becoming one, so strange, but so welcomed. It made heat pool between my thighs, pleasure bubbling up between our entwined bodies.

I couldn’t tell if Wilbur was enjoying it, but the noises he was making… soft groans and whines. They were like music to my ears, adding to the tightening in my core, something I’d never felt before, but I never wanted it to end.

The spiral low in my stomach kept tightening, ecstasy running over my body as he kept rutting into me, tightening until it snapped. And when it snapped, radiating out from the apex of my thighs, it was like I was on cloud nine, floating in the clouds, far above the castle, the country, and the planet.

I’d barely recovered from the wave of pleasure that slammed into me when Wilbur lets out a loud moan, burying his face in my shoulder as I felt my inner thighs suddenly wet. The only sounds in the room were mine and Wilbur’s shaky breaths, trying to collect our composure once more.

“If that didn’t work,” Wilbur murmurs, panting. “Could we, uh, do it again?”

I’ve been living in the castle, married to my husband, and a princess for a month now. I still wasn’t quite used to it. Gone were the days I pitched in around the house and could come and go when I pleased. Now, I sat around in a castle, wearing lace, silk, and velvet dresses that made me feel frumpy. All there was to do was sit in the library and read. I’d loose myself in leather-bound tales, about far-off and imaginary lands, trying to wish myself to live between the worn pages instead of here.

“I’ve washed your nightgown for you, ma’am,” one of our housekeepers says to me, dropping off a loud of laundry in our room, thankfully interrupting the conversation the queen was trying to have with Wilbur and I. “I couldn’t quite get the menstrual blood out of it, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s no issue,” I reply, face burning as I take the neatly folded pile, avoiding the gaze I’m sure the queen was giving me. “Thank you.”

The queen shakes her head, continuing knitting something that looked, suspiciously like a hat for a baby. “It’s ok, dear,” she says, forcing kindness into her voice. “Maybe next month Wilbur will do his job.”

Wilbur snorts into his tea, making his mother give him a very stern look. We make eye contact over the rim of the mug, warmth blooming in my chest.

He’s on my side.

“That hat looks nice,” I say to hopefully break the awkward silence.

The queen grimaces. “It’s a sweater for a newborn,” she says briskly, making Wilbur hide his laughter with a pretend coughing fit. “Wilbur, are you ill? Why are you coughing.”

“I’m fine, mother,” he lies, gulping down the rest of his tea. “Why don’t you head down to the sitting room and let me and my wife spend some time together?”

She immediately brightens up. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says, packing up her knitting and giving me a wink. “Good luck, you two.”

The second the door shuts behind her, Wilbur groans, burying his face in his hands. “Does she only care about you as some sort of baby-vessel?”

I sigh, wringing one of my carefully-folded dresses in my hands. “I think so.”

Awkwardly, Wilbur leans over, carefully putting a loose arm around my shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think of you like that.”

Blinking up at him, I feel a heat spread through my face. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. “So the… blood, it means you’re not pregnant, right?”

I nod. Wilbur’s face, inexplicably, breaks out in a grin.

“That’s good news?” I question, and he nods. “But, your parents-”

He shrugs dismissively. “Look, I had about as much of a choice as you did. Just because I have royalty in my blood, it doesn’t mean I like it.”

“You don’t like being a prince?” I reply, shocked. “Whenever I see you in the papers, you seem to like this life.”

Wilbur laughs, shaking his head. “That’s called ‘acting’, darling.” The pet name makes my face flush, though it’s not unwelcomed. “And now I’ve somehow dragged you into this mess.”

“At least we’re both equally unhappy?” I offer. “I promise I won’t mention this to anyone else. We can get through this.” I hesitate before adding the last word. “Together.”

Nodding, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Together.”

“Wilbur, are you alright?” I ask, walking into our room a few nights later to see my husband sitting on the edge of our bed, looking pensive. “What happened?”

He sighs, patting the blanket as an invite for me to sit. “Mother’s been complaining to the staff about not getting her grandchildren yet. Apparently, she got pregnant with me the night she married my father, and saying I’m not living up to the family legacy.”

“Oh.” As much as I hate myself for it, my core tightens deliciously at the thought of Wilbur and I’s wedding night. “I’m sorry. I… parents.” I awkwardly finish.

“Parents,” he agrees. “So, uh, if you’re down, do you want to, y’know, try again?”

I nod immediately, a little embarrassed by how eager I look. “Sure.”

Wilbur awkwardly chews on his lower lip. “Did you… enjoy it? Last time?”

“I did.” I whisper. “Did you?”

He kicks his toe against the plush rug our bed sits on. “More than I should admit,” he murmurs. “I’ve read a lot of books in my years in this castle, so naturally, I’ve read about… that. If my parents knew I found those books, they’d be horrified.”

Surprisingly, I hear myself giggle. “Why would they be horrified about you reading about how to give them grandchildren?”

“Because those books don’t exactly see it as something for having babies. They see it as something to bring you closer to your partner, something that feels good.”

We’re both silent for a few moments.

“So, since you want to do it again…” Wilbur continues. “I know how to make it better for you. Do you still want to?”

I find myself nodding before the words even leave his mouth, reaching down to pull off my top. I’m left just in my bra and skirt, Wilbur’s eyes running all over my exposed skin.

“Can I take your bra off?” He whispers, cupping my breasts through the fabric. Even the hint of his touch makes my stomach tighten, and I nod.

His hand reaches around to my back, struggling with the clasp for a good few seconds before it pops open. Eyes wider than dinner plates, Wilbur rubs a thumb over my nipple until I groan.

“That’s good, right?” He asks anxiously.

“It’s good,” I reply, shimmying my skirt and tights down my thighs. “Do you want me to lie down, or-“

Wilbur nods, pulling off his shirt and reaching for the zipper on his pants. Just the motion of unzipping his pants makes the apex of my thighs throb.

When I look up again from taking off the rest of my clothes, he’s fully naked, chest heaving. I’d never seen him like this, and it’s not unwelcome.

“Tell me if this hurts, ok?” Wilbur whispers, tracing up my thigh and fumbling around a little before finding a spot that makes me gasp. His long fingers circle around and rub the little nub, the pleasure so intense my legs go weak.

“Oh my,” I manage to gasp out, that lovely tightening in my core getting stronger. “Please… don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, speeding up his touches and looking slightly smug at my blissed-out expression.

My hand grasps at his wrist so I can rub against his fingers, the ever-tightening spiral threatening to snap…

…And it snaps.

I close my eyes tight as I let out a long, low moan, hips bucking up against Wilbur’s hand as I ride it out, floating up in the clouds again.

“Safe to say that felt good?” Wilbur’s voice brings me back down to earth, and I’m disappointed when he pulls his hand back. “It’s going to get even better, I promise.”

While I’m still wondering how on earth he managed to do that to me with just his fingers, I feel him pushing himself inside me, everything so much more sensitive this time, and it’s wonderful. We groan in unison, his face buried in my shoulder.

“Can I move now?” Wilbur asks.

“Please,” I reply, wrapping my legs around his waist to steady myself. This lets him push in even deeper, putting pressure on the spot he’d been touching earlier.

Wilbur’s a lot less gentle this time, and a lot more vocal. A lot. Our hips snap together, and I let myself move with him instead of laying still.

“So good,” he murmurs in my ear, breath hitching. “So good, sweetheart.”

I wasn’t expecting another moment on cloud 9 for the second time in one night, but when the familiar feeling builds up again, I practically feel like I’m floating. It’s different than earlier, deeper and more intense, but just as welcome.

The second high is just as intense as the first, my back arching as I ride it out. Wilbur’s not far behind me, sighing as I feel my bare stomach suddenly wet.

“Sorry, I kind of…” he trails off awkwardly, grabbing his shirt off the mattress and wiping up the mess. “This is awkward.”

“You’re good,” I murmur sleepily, absolutely exhausted from the night’s activities.

Surprisingly, Wilbur cleans both of us up, climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest to cuddle.

“This ok?” He asks, and I sleepily nod.

He drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, wondering why exactly my arranged husband could make me feel things like this.

Life keeps dragging along. Wilbur seems more distant and secretive, hiding envelopes in his pillowcase and burning letters before anyone else can see them. My mother-in-law keeps insisting I join her for tea every afternoon, which essentially means being extremely nosy and overbearing for an hour or two, drilling me on everything from how I carry myself in public to her ever-lack of grandchildren. My dresses keep disappearing after I hand them to the staff to wash, Wilbur blaming it on his mother.

One evening, I walk into our bedroom to see Wilbur in his warmest coat, a suitcase open on the bed, and two envelopes sitting next to it on the bedspread.

“I’m getting you out,” Wilbur says, smiling at me with indifferent eyes. “I’ve packed you some casual dresses and shoes, stuff nobody will notice missing. There’s money in that envelope, and a letter to my friend. He lives over the border on a farm, and he’ll find a place for you.”

I expect to feel a wash of relief, getting my life back, but no. All I feel is a tugging at my heart, a pang of sadness.

“You’ve got 10 minutes. Grab anything else you need, and I’ll take you as far as the border,” Wilbur continues, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll sneak downstairs and wrap up some food for you.”

While he’s gone, I quickly glance around, slipping the books on my nightstand into the suitcase. Wilbur’s done a good job packing my things, leaving behind the gaudy dresses and tasteless jewlery, slipping in my most-worn dresses and comfiest shoes. I change out of my nightgown and slippers, packing them and slipping on a warm dress, boots, and my heaviest coat. Fat snowflakes were falling from the sky, a chilling wind rattling the windows of the castle. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“Here,” Wilbur whispers, making me jump and turn around. “I couldn’t get much, but there’s some bread and apples. It’s better than nothing.”

He closes the suitcase, grabbing the woolen cap off his head and pulling it over mine. “Wrap this around your shoulders,” he tells me, handing me the thick blanket off our bed. “If we leave now, you’ll be out of the country by daybreak.”

I do as he tells me, nestling into the blanket as he wraps a heavy scarf around my face. “Grab your suitcase, and we’re leaving.”

I watch, dumbfounded, as Wilbur pulls open the window and leaps onto the steep shingled roof. “I’ll help you,” he promises, taking my suitcase and my hand so I can climb out. I lean up to shut the window.

There’s no going back now.

We walk all night in the frigid, unrelenting wind. My face, hands, and feet are numb, and I can’t recall ever being this cold before.

His friend hasn’t arrived at the meeting spot yet, so we settle into the shelter of a massive holly bush to try and rest our weary legs. Wilbur takes off his coat, placing it over my lap, and wraps me in his arms. Finally, I let myself cry, the hot, salty tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re ok,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “Once you leave the country and forget about the past months, you’ll be ok. Your life is just beginning.”

All I can do is nod, continuing to sob into his chest. I couldn’t even begin to verbalise that the tears weren’t for our country or my old life, they were for him.

The time we spend in the shelter of the holly bush feels like an eternity. Just as the sun gives hints at appearing over the horizon, we hear the bumping of a cart, the snorting of a horse, and I know it’s time to go.

Wilbur loads my suitcase onto the cart, settling me down in the scratchy hay and nestling blankets around me. “I’ll be back,” he whispers.

I hear him and his friend exchanging a few words, the envelope being handed over, and Wilbur’s footsteps coming back towards me. To say goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, Wilbur, ok?” I say, trying to hold back the tears running down my cheeks. “What wil your parents say?”

“That doesn’t matter. Please, forgive me,” he begs. “Forget everything we did, forget the past months. I’m giving you your life back.”

He wipes away the endless flood of tears, kisses me on the cheek, and steps off the wagon. His jacket is still over my lap, and I press my face into it, his familiar smell washing over me.

The reins snap, the horse and cart rattling down the cobbled road, heading away. Away from my home, away from the castle, and away from Wilbur. Ahead? Whatever lay over the border. I had food in my suitcase and more money than I’d seen in my life. I’d find a way.

My eyes close, Wilbur’s face swimming over my closed lids, and I force the image away.

“Wait!”

I snap my head up as the cart rattles to a halt.

“Please, wait!”

It was Wilbur’s voice.

Dumbfounded, I watch as he comes running up the road, not slowing down until he reaches the cart, practically leaping into the hay and wrapping his arms around me.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he sobs. “Please let me come with you. I’ll leave my country, leave my chance at the throne, whatever it takes to stay with you. I love you.” His face is pressed against mine, slick with both our tears.

“Don’t leave me again,” I manage to say through my tears. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I never will,” Wilbur promises. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.”

The cart continues to make its way down the road, every step taking us closer to our new life. Our new home.

Wilbur and I’s new life is everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Once we made it across the border, we moved into a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods on a couple acres of farmland. Wilbur ended up sneaking my most valuable jewels into the bottom of my suitcase, which we promptly sold to afford some things for our house.

Coming from a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot, to living on our own in a one-room cottage was a shock, to say the least. Wilbur really stepped up, teaching himself to cook and clean so the housework wouldn’t all fall on me. With the money from the jewelry, we bought a bed, kitchen table, two chairs, and some linens. It was all we had, and all we needed.

I taught myself to farm fruit and vegetables, as well as bake bread and make jams out of our harvests. Wilbur bought a cow, thinking we could get a decent amount of meat from her, but got too attached and ended up naming her Daisy.

“It’s a real farm now,” he said proudly, stroking Daisy’s forehead. “But doesn’t she look a little lonely?”

The next addition to our farm was a chicken coop, laying us plenty of eggs for breakfast. At Wilbur’s suggestion, I bought some flour and sugar, and used some of the butter I made from Daisy’s milk and eggs from the coop to start baking bread and cakes.

I went to the market every week, selling my homemade bread, cakes, and jam, which brought in a significant amount of money. For now, our family was complete…

…Until Wilbur showed up one morning with a skinny stray dog, looking very proud of himself.

“She can guard the farm for us,” he announced, scratching her behind the ears. “She can eat scraps, too.”

Princess, as she came to be known, did not end up guarding the farm or eating scraps. She slept in Wilbur and I’s bed each night, licking the pan clean from dinner or chowing down on scrambled eggs that Wilbur made for her.

“This certainly beats the castle,” I murmured to Wilbur one night as we lay in bed, Princess fast asleep between us as the fireplace crackles.

He leans in to kiss my forehead. “It does. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

#princesswrites #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur x you #princebur #wilbur angst #wilbur soot smut #bursona smut #wilbur smut #dsmp smut #mcyt angst #wilbur mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt smut #princessfics

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dixons-sunshine · 6 months ago

Text

Punishment Enough | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: After Beth's death, Daryl took it out on himself. He hunted for the group, but refused to feed himself. One day, you've had enough, and you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: Post Terminus; Pre Alexandria.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, blood.

Word count: 3k.

A/n: Alright, here's yet another vamp!Daryl fic to add to the growing number. This was originally supposed to be a 1k word thing, but it got way longer than I had anticipated lol. (ALSO, yes, I know some things in this isn't factual to most vampire things we see online, but I took some creative liberty and wrote it in a way that I liked.) Anyways, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“This is getting out of hand,” your leader and friend, Rick Grimes, whispered to you as he watched Daryl disappear into the woods for the millionth time since your journey on the road began a mere two weeks ago. “He needs to feed. He's going to die otherwise.”

You sighed as you watched one of your closest friends disappear beyond the treeline. You continued your snail's pace of a trek next to Rick, the heat from the blazing summer sun beating down on you relentlessly. Your stomach grumbled with hunger and you were thirsty beyond belief, but you knew that it couldn't compare to the discomfort the archer was experiencing. You had eaten, even if just a little, a few hours ago, while he hadn't fed since Beth had died, which was at that point already two weeks prior.

You knew that if he kept that up, he would die within the next few dies, maybe even the next few hours. He was punishing himself, and soon, he would pay the price for it.

“Rick? I don't mean to interrupt whatever intelligent discussion you were having with miss Y/n over here, but Rosita and I have managed to locate a river on the map not too far from here. If you send two people down to replenish our water supply, we should be ready to move on with our trek in about thirty minutes.”

Rick stared Eugene down for a few moments. You were sure that he was going to turn down the offer, but to your surprise and great relief, Rick finally conceded.

“We need to rest anyway, so okay. An hour. That's all I'm willing to offer up,” Rick told Eugene. Your leader whistled to capture everyone's attention, and raised his voice to be heard clearly. “We stop for now. Eugene says that there's a river not too far from here. Tara, Glenn, you two go refill our water supply. The rest of you, get as much rest as you can. We move again in an hour.”

Everyone nodded and dispersed, leaving you alone with your benevolent leader. You eyed the spot you had last seen Daryl, all the sounds and sights around you being evaporated from your mind. However, you were startled when Rick snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, recapturing your attention again.

“How about you go after him and see if you can talk to him?” Rick suggested, lightly patting you on the shoulder in encouragement. “If there's anyone he might listen to, it's you.”

“No, he won't listen to me,” you denied, a sullen expression on your face. “If he won't even listen to Carol, what chance do I have of getting through to him?”

Rick pursed his lips, trying to keep the words that wanted to spill from his lips to himself. He couldn't betray his found brother's trust like that. He wouldn't. That was something Daryl had to tell you on his own time, even if it took years to do so. All Rick could do in that moment was gently urge you to go talk to the man.

“Believe me, I have a feeling that you might be able to break through to him. Just go try, please? I don't want him to die just because he blames himself for something that isn't his fault.”

You inhaled sharply, but ultimately agreed. “Okay,” you mumbled, handing your bag over to Rick, but keeping your compound bow and knife handy just in case you needed it. “If I'm not back by the time you guys need to move on—”

“We go on without you,” Rick finished for you, slinging your bag over his shoulder. “I know. Just go check on him. See if you can get him to drink from something.”

You sent your leader a small nod, and turned on your heel to disappear into the woods. You walked in the general direction of where you saw the archer disappear, soon finding yourself surrounded by trees and dirt. You kept your eyes on the ground, lazer focused on the faint tracks of the man you were trying to find.

A chittering sound from above you redirected your attention from the ground to the area of where you heard it. Up in a tree, on a branch low enough to reach if you jumped, you spotted a total of three squirrels, all sitting in a straight line as they went on doing whatever squirrels fancied as entertainment. They were blissfully unaware of your lurking presence, so it made it easy to line up the shot perfectly.

By some stroke of luck, the arrow found it's mark in all three squirrels. Proud and a little giddy at the prospect of food, you walked towards the tree and jumped to get your prey from the branch. Marveling at the kill you made, you almost missed the sound of a twig snapping in the distance. Almost.

On instinct, you dropped the arrow holding the three squirrels and loaded your bow with another arrow, turning around and releasing it in the direction of the sound. The arrow flew towards the walker, but the walker caught it with ease. Calming down and allowing your eyes to adjust, you could see that it was not a walker. Instead, it was the very man you were tracking down.

Daryl Dixon.

“If ya wanna kill me, yer gon' have to do a lot better than an arrow,” Daryl mused, walking towards you to hand the deadly object back to you. “Wha' the hell are ya doin' here?”

“Looking for you,” you stated matter-of-factly, putting your arrow away. You looked up into Daryl's eyes, but instead of finding the usual blue irises that you have grown to love, you found red coloured ones in their place. A clear sign that he was starving. “We're worried about you. Rick thought I might be able to talk some sense into you.”

“Dun' need someone to talk no sense into me,” Daryl grumbled, turning around to stalk away again. “M'fine. Dun' need no damn babysitter. Leave me alone.”

Picking up the dead squirrels from the ground, you took off in a jog behind Daryl to keep up with his speed. Even though he was only walking, his enhanced speed made his pace faster than the average human's, hence why if he wanted to, he could lose you with ease.

“Daryl! Daryl, wait!” you pleaded with him, finally catching up enough to grab his arm. “Daryl—”

“I said, leave me alone, damnit!” Daryl roared, spinning around to look at you. A furious glare painted his features, but instead of being met with fear, he was met with a stubborn glare instead. Well, he could give you points for that, but he wouldn't give in to whatever you wanted from him. “Wha' dun' ya understand? I dun' need yer concern or yer company. M'fine on my own. I've been alone for decades. Dun' need to change tha' now.”

“Daryl, you need to feed,” you explained as calmly as you could, trying to keep your anger in check. It wouldn't do anyone any good if you were to snap at him right at that moment.

“M'fine,” Daryl replied stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“Really? Because if you were fine, your eyes wouldn't be red right now,” you countered, motioning to his eyes. “Do you wanna die, Daryl? Because if you don't feed, that's exactly what's gonna happen.”

“Dun' need ya to lecture me, woman!” Daryl exclaimed loudly, waving his hand around in anger. “I know my own damn body better than ya do! I've been like this for a long time. I know when I need to feed and when I dun'!”

“Then why the fuck can't you see that you need to feed right now?!” you snapped, pushing Daryl's chest for emphasis. The man barely moved, his inhuman strength countering your attempts to sway him.“I may not be a vampire, and I may not know exactly how being one works, but I do know that you're either going to die, or lose control and hurt one of us. Is that what you want? Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't have to use all of your willpower to refrain from lunging at me and draining all of the blood from my body. Tell me that drinking my blood doesn't sound good to you right now.”

Daryl's silence only confirmed your suspicions. You scoffed and shook your head, taking one of the squirrels off the arrow and extending it towards the stubborn archer.

“Feed. Don't even think about saying no because I swear I'll fucking kill you.”

He knew there was no use of yelling at you anymore. What was the use of getting mad at you for caring about him? If anything, knowing that you did made him feel all funny inside. However, Daryl still shook his head in denial, refusing to take the dead animal from you. “Nah. Y'all need the meat to survive. If I drink the blood, my venom will taint the meat and then y'all can't eat it.”

“Taint the meat?” you questioned in confusion, furrowing your eyebrows. “I've seen you drink from a human before and they didn't turn. How's this any different?”

“Humans are different,” Daryl explained. “M'not gon' explain it to ya because I dun' even fully understand myself, but all I know is we dun' have control over our venom when it comes to animals. We do with humans. Tha's the most basic explanation I have fer ya.”

You nodded in understanding. You scanned your surroundings for a moment before your eyes fell on an empty can, and you had a lightbulb moment. You walked over to pick up the aforementioned object, before crouching down. You picked up one of the squirrels and, very carefully so that you didn't accidentally nick your finger, cut it in multiple places to drain it of its blood, into the can.

You could hear Daryl inhale sharply when the smell of blood flooded his nostrils. His already bloodred eyes darkened, and you could tell that his self-restraint was dwindling by the second. You had to make quick work of your activities, and fast, otherwise Daryl would lunge for the blood. And you didn't know whether or not the blood he went for would be the squirrel's, or yours.

Once the can was practically overflowing with blood, you hastily got up and pushed the object into his hands, some blood trickling over the edge and onto his hands.

“Drink,” you ordered him, leaving no room for argument.

Grumbling to himself, he brought the can up to his lips to slowly take a sip. However, as soon as that first drop of blood fell on his tongue, he drank the rest of it in hurried, messy gulps. Blood trickled down the sides of his mouth, and you had to resist the urge to bring your hands up to wipe the blood away.

In five seconds flat, the entire can was empty. Some colour returned to the archer's cheeks, and his eyes slightly changed from a deep crimson to a dull red. However, even though Daryl handed the can back to you as a way to say he was done, you knew it wasn't nearly enough. He needed way more than that, even if he wouldn't admit it. And, come hell or high water, you would make sure he drank more.

“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled, wiping at the blood and making an even bigger mess on his face. “Ya satisfied now?”

“Not even remotely,” you mused, picking up the three dead squirrels, one of which now had its blood drained, and offered one of them to him. “Here, take it. We need to head back and there isn't time to drain another one for you. Don't worry about one lousy squirrel. We'll survive.”

“But—”

“No buts, Daryl,” you cut him off, forcing the dead critter into his hands. You picked up your knife and sheathed it, before adjusting your bow on your back. You sent Daryl a look and walked off, calling to him over your shoulder. “C'mon. We gotta go.”

Cleverly sensing that there was no room for argument, Daryl followed behind you with a frustrated huff, shaking his head to himself at your stubbornness. However, your stubbornness was one of the many traits that made him feel drawn to you, one of the many things that made you perfect in his eyes. Well, it was perfect when the stubbornness wasn't directed towards him.

Unable to resist the urge any longer due to the taste he got from it earlier, Daryl brought the squirrel up to his mouth. He sunk his fangs into the dead animal and began to drink mouthfuls of the delicious crimson, his deep hunger not going away but being satiated for the time being.

“You need to stop this, Dar,” you began, shaking your head to yourself. “You need to stop punishing yourself. Beth's death isn't your fault. You need to know that. And you need to stop punishing yourself for it. Beth wouldn't want you to starve yourself. You know she wouldn't, so stop doing it, please. Blaming yourself for a death that wasn't even remotely your fault is punishment enough.”

Daryl drained the squirrel of the last of its blood, before withdrawing his mouth from the creature. He stared at you in wonder, walking beside you silently as he pondered over your words. He didn't believe that Beth's death wasn't his fault. He probably never would, but what he did believe was that Beth wouldn't want him to die. The girl voiced in so many different ways that she wanted him to live. And even though he felt terrible about her death, he decided that he would honour her. He would live because she couldn't. He would honour her by doing what she wanted him to do—he would live.

And, once he built up enough courage for it, he would honour her by following her advice and admitting his feelings to you.

The two of you walked from the treeline and back towards where the rest of the group rested. When the two of you made yourselves known, everyone looked up and shared similar looks of relief at the sight of the blood on Daryl's face and the drained squirrel in his hands.

Everyone except Gabriel, who looked at Daryl in disgust and fear, but was wise enough not to say anything. The last time he had voiced his obvious disdain towards the archer because of what he was, he was met with a punch from you and quite the amount of hateful words and glares from the rest of the group. It was clear that nobody would stand for anything but acceptance towards what Daryl was, and he appreciated that.

“Glad to see you're looking better, brother,” Rick voiced to Daryl, getting up to give his found brother a quick hug.

“Thanks,” Daryl thanked him, patting him lightly on the back before withdrawing from the hug. “She wouldn't let me not drink anythin', so ya really should be glad 'bout her. And she found y'all some dinner.”

“Sweet!” Carl voiced excitedly, eliciting a bunch of laughs from most of the adults there. “My dad found us a few rabbits, too.”

Rick took the squirrels from you with a grateful nod. “Seems like we're gonna be here for another hour or so. Let's cook these up, get ourselves regenerated.”

As everyone fell into their own separate conversations and Rick and Carl took it upon themselves to start a small fire, you walked over to a tree before sliding down against it, looking up at Daryl who had followed you there.

“M'surprised ya didn't offer yer blood to me,” Daryl told you, sliding down next to you.

“Why the hell would I do that?” you asked him in genuine confusion, staring into his eyes that were busy turning back to their usual beautiful blues.

“The ladies back at the prison always offered their blood to me when I couldn't feed on animals. Figured ya'd do the same.”

“Yeah, no. I like you and all, but that's not something you're gonna get from me anytime soon, no matter how hot you are,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Ya think m'hot?” Daryl asked in surprise, eyeing you with a small smile.

“I—shut up. Don't let it go to your head,” you mumbled, hugging your knees to your chest.

Daryl chuckled. “I won't,” he promised, looking over at you with a soft look in his eyes. “Thanks again. Fer the squirrel and the lecture. I know I said I didn't need it, but I did. So, thanks.”

You smiled and brought one of your hands up to rest on Daryl's knee, rubbing your thumb against it softly. “Of course. I'd do anything for you, Daryl.”

Daryl ducked his head in shyness. However, he couldn't help the way he felt about you. In less than an hour, you had managed to track him down, give him a much needed lecture, and made him feed on something. You truly were amazing to him, but he didn't know if you'd ever feel the same about him. The two of you were so vastly different, in personalities and species, so he wouldn't be surprised if his feelings were one-sided.

Unbeknownst to him at the time, however, you did feel the same. And that first night in Alexandria, you showed him exactly how you felt about him.

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misc-obeyme · 1 year ago

Note

heyyy!!!! It's for the Kinktober list \o/

Solomon and breeding kink please babes ❤️

Drink water, sleep 8 hours and eat three healthy meals a day!!! Luvoo

Hey there, anon!

Okay I already had a prompt for Solomon for Kinktober when I got this ask, but I was like listen. Is it really a CC event if I don't get more requests for Solomon than any other character? So now I feel like it's just tradition.

Also I can't believe I didn't include Solomon's pact marks in the other kinktober post I wrote for him! I didn't even realize until I'd posted it and then I was like how is it that I didn't mention them at all?? I'm so into it, it's ridiculous and yet... anyway, this gave me the chance to include them so I feel that makes up for it a little bit. One of these days I'm gonna write a smut fic that's like... about those marks 'cause they just do something to me.

Anyway, I did afab reader so hopefully that's okay! I also feel the need to thank you for telling me to drink water and so on. Those are all things I almost never do lol. Sometimes I eat three meals a day, but are they healthy?? No. They aren't. Right, sorry for the ramblings lol.

Thank you for submitting a prompt!

KINKTOBER 2023

AFAB!MC x Solomon

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: breeding, penetration (reader receiving)

You were on the sofa in Cocytus Hall in the middle of a heavy make out session with Solomon when you pulled away. Solomon let out a breath at the loss of your lips, but he didn't say anything. You met his eyes, saw the desire in them and the question.

You reached down deliberately to put your hand on his erection. Solomon closed his eyes and tensed, trying not to react to the feeling of it.

"We haven't even been doing this that long and you're already hard," you said quietly.

Solomon took hold of your wrist and pulled your hand up. He leaned in, his lips against your ear. "I'm sorry, MC. I guess I'm just that eager to breed you."

A thrill ran down your spine and you shuddered in his arms. Your reaction caused him to laugh softly against your skin.

"Ah, I knew it," he said. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

You flushed, but you couldn't exactly disagree. "So what if it is?"

Solomon laughed again. "You're so cute, MC," he said. "But you don't have to hold back. If that's what you want, all you have to do is say it."

You huffed. You tried to look away from him, but the close proximity made it difficult. You considered refusing to say anything else, but your own arousal was creeping in now and you didn't think you would actually be able to resist him.

You switched tactics, turning into him. You pulled your wrist from his hand and tugged on his belt buckle. You pressed your lips to his neck and said, "I want you to breed me, Solomon."

Solomon pulled you up off the sofa, his hands already moving beneath the fabric of your clothes. He removed your shirt, kissing along your collarbones as you finally unbuckled his belt. Your pants went next, soon followed by his cloak and shirt, too.

You paused now that Solomon's bare chest was before you. You looked into his eyes for a moment. He waited to see what you would do.

You ran your fingertips over his pact marks. He stayed still as you did so, patiently watching you. It wasn't as though you hadn't seen them before, but most of the time it was easy to forget they were there, hidden beneath his clothes.

Solomon allowed you to be mesmerized by them for a few moments before he turned you around and pulled you against him. Your back nestled against his chest. He still had his pants on, but they were open enough to let his cock free and you could feel it pressed against you. Solomon's lips trailed down your neck, his fingertips trailing beneath the waistband of your underwear.

You felt your body heat up and found yourself filled with impatience. If you let him, Solomon would continue to tease you for some time before finally giving you what you wanted. So you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You removed your underwear yourself, adding it to the pile of clothes on the floor. Then you put your knees on the sofa, bracing yourself against the back of it.

You arched your back and said, "Hurry up, I can't wait anymore."

Solomon made a groaning sound behind you, but you couldn't see him anymore. It was only moments before you felt him behind you. He kissed down your spine while reaching around to stimulate your clit with his fingers. You pushed against them, letting out a small moan as you sought more of that feeling.

"Solomon, please," you begged.

As you had hoped, that was enough to make him finally push his cock inside you. You were wet and ready, taking it in easily and moaning at the way it felt.

Solomon didn't hold back now. He had one hand on your hip and one hand on your clit as he pounded into you. The angle allowed for deep penetration and you felt your body unraveling with each thrust. The sparks of pleasure ran through your veins, the tension building in your legs and your back, your muscles tightening.

The hand on your hip moved up to rest on your back as Solomon leaned forward further. "You're so ready for me," he said, his voice heavy and shaking with his own impending orgasm. "I'm going to fill you up."

You cried out incoherently as you came, his words sending you right over the edge. Solomon seemed to anticipate this, both hands moving to hold your hips steady as you clenched around him.

Just as he promised, you could feel his hot cum filling you up as he came, your name spilling sweetly from his lips.

From then on, you found it was a simple matter to get Solomon to breed you. As he had said himself, all you had to do was say it.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me smut #obey me kinktober #obey me solomon #om solomon #solomon obey me #obey me solomon smut #om solomon smut #obey me solomon x reader #om solomon x reader #solomon obey me x reader #misc kinktober 2023 #misc writes #misc naughty times

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glorysbox · 1 year ago

Note

hi it’s me elias 🙏🙏 i had an idea for a bot I wanted to make but I thought it would be way better if you wrote it ‼️ because I read the one where you’re in the jeep and… well. ANYWAYS

my idea is basically you and Leon are long distance and you barely see each other except for a few times a year, you barely even get to call because you’re both really busy with work. it’s Valentine’s Day and you’re alone (obviously) but you really miss him. he’s not responding to your calls and it’s worrying you, maybe he’s found someone else?? then you hear knocking at your door and there he is!!!! he’s flown to see you for Valentine’s Day to finally spend time with you again. his intentions aren’t entirely sexual at first, he also just really misses you and wants to make sure you’re okay. but then he quickly realizes what he wants (and what you want.) it’s been SO long since the two of you have had sex. like years and he’s been thinking about it so much like all the damn time

you really don’t have to include all the stuff at the beginning but I just wanted to give you like the backstory ig for my idea so you can write it like. so that it makes sense. i’m really not good at explaining things so I hope this makes sense and also i love your writing

this ended up being so long... i'm sorry. right after i said i would only do 1-2k fics

leon x gn!reader (i wasn't sure if you wanted anything specific so i made it as neutral as possible!) wc: 4.6k... warnings: explicitly 18+, cumming inside, hurt + comfort, Leon's a little bit of a jerk unintentionally, make-up sex

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Leon.

You knew that you'd be alone. That he'd go on missions in foreign countries—dangerous missions—and that you'd be left wondering if he was okay or if he was even alive. But you still started dating him.

Because you love him.

Which is why today of all days is especially difficult for you. It's like the world is taunting you—everywhere you turn, there's an advertisement for Valentine's Day specials or a couple making out on the damn corner or a guy beaming as he walks down the street holding a box of chocolates and flowers in both hands.

You love Leon... but god do you hate Valentine's Day. It's one thing to only see your boyfriend a few times in a year, and it's another to be constantly reminded about just how lonely you are without him. Which is why you're currently sat on your couch, lights off, snuggled under the blanket that he bought you some odd few years ago. It still smells like him.

It's not something you've ever bothered to bring up to him. Just how lonely you are and how you miss him so often—he already has so much on his plate, why add more? That's what you tell yourself. Still, the feelings are starting to bubble over into... uncharted territory. Each time your phone buzzes, you find yourself excitedly grabbing it to see if maybe, for once... he'd call you on Valentine's Day. Or call you at all for that matter.

But he doesn't.

He never has.

He probably never will.

You really don't mean to be so upset about it... you knew what you were getting into. But still... at least one call a week, right? That's what he's promised you.

It's been two.

And it's far from the first time that he's skipped calling you. As much as it pains you to admit, there are more important things that he has to deal with—and as much as you want to be, you're unfortunately low on his priority list.

But again, you deal with it.

Because you love him.

Even if he doesn't always get the chance to call you on your birthday because he's so busy with work. Valentine's Day always goes the same. You're alone. Your boyfriend doesn't call you. You're left to watch the stupid, cheesy romance movies that you wish you could force Leon to watch and cuddle up with him on the couch like a normal couple would.

But... you're not a normal couple. You've long since accepted that... or, tried to. You've tried. Here you are, just as you have been for the past however many years, crying on your sofa as you imagine what could have been. What your relationship could be if Leon didn't have such an intensive job. It's not long before the tears start to flow freely down your cheeks.

The guilt eats you alive. You feel bad for wanting to demand some of Leon's attention. You feel bad for even feeling bad, for crying out loud. Even though, if Leon were here right now, you know that he'd comfort you and tell you just how appreciative he is of you for even sticking around for someone like him—a government agent with too much baggage.

"Damn it..." The frustration is evident as you speak to no one in particular—the noise coming out of your mouth more of a pathetic mutter than anything as you struggle to keep your emotions in check. Grabbing the remote, you very quickly turn off the scene in the movie where the two leads were about to confess their love for each other and share a kiss. God, you could use one of those right now. Being without Leon kills you. Not being able to feel his biceps around your body, squeezing the life out of you, kills you. Not being able to wake up next to him and see the way that he smiles when you're the first thing he sees opening his eyes.

It kills you so much, in fact, that as you trudge towards the front door after hearing a few short knocks, that you're not even bothering to mask your sniffles or the fact that you're feeling less than hot right now.

You hate Valentine's Day.

Opening the door with a sigh, you wipe your tears away with the back of your hand—again, not being exactly too mindful of the person who's at your front door. Cluelessness and a lack of situational awareness has always, truly, been your downfall. Of course. It's Leon. Now you're just feeling guilty again—having spent the whole day cursing him out in your mind only for him to show up at your door to surprise you.

"Are you..." You feel a familiar hand cup your face, the warmth of his calloused palm pressing and squishing against your cheek as Leon's fingers press into the soft skin. The sound of plastic wrap crinkling fills your ears; if you were to look up from your feet, you would be able to see the bouquet of flowers. Flowers. For you. From Leon. On Valentine's Day.

A part of you wants to jump into his arms. To plant kisses all over his face. To thank him for even thinking of you, even if what he's done is just the bare minimum. Another part of you just can't help but feel frustrated. Knowing that after this, after the one day that you stay together, he'll be called in to another other-worldly mission that leaves you up at night with knots in your stomach anticipating his next call to know if he's okay.

Leon's touch leaves goosebumps in it's wake. His thumb wipes the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, and then trails down to feel the skin of your neck. He can practically feel the heat radiating off of you.

"You're crying." A statement, more than a question. Your eyes are red, your pretty lips turned into a frown, and your red nose is enough of an indication of the truth. How are you going to get yourself out of this one? You really, really don't want to burden him with your feelings. You're happy, really. He doesn't need anything more on his plate.

"I...'m fine. Really, I'm just..." A sigh escapes your lips. An involuntary one. Looking up finally, you meet his gaze. Leon's icy blue eyes bore into your own, his brows drawn in and a taut frown visible on his lips. "Just was watching a sad movie." He hates to see you upset. Leon knows it's wrong of him to neglect you like this. But to see the effects of what he's done... to say that he feels horribly guilty and responsible would be an understatement. And he is responsible.

"A sad movie on Valentine's Day?" He questions, his tone slightly teasing as you step aside to let him inside of your apartment. Leon takes a deep breath—the scent of your apartment and warmth enveloping him, finally, after months. He always preferred your apartment over his... it feels like home, in his words. "I got you these."

You don't respond as he walks in your apartment like he owns it. You follow him as he makes his way into your kitchen, the silence thick and unbearable and equal parts uncomfortable. You missed him. Badly. And yet, still... you're finding it hard to open up to him right now. Maybe it's the years of bitterness of this specific damn day that are catching up to you. Leon opens your cabinet, taking out one of your mason jars to fill with water and put your hydrangeas in. As much as you want to appreciate them... and his presence, you find it hard.

"Leon, I—"

"I'm sorry." His voice cuts you off before you can continue; his tone low and just as apologetic. The mason jar full of baby blue hydrangeas is cast off to the side of your countertop as he makes his way towards you. The scent of his favorite aftershave (that he only uses to impress you) fills your nostrils as he breaches the distance between the both of you.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. I want to apologize. I need to..." His hands reach, gripping the skin of your forearms as he speaks. Leon sighs after a few moments, one of his hands reaching to run through his dirty blonde hair in a rare display of uncertainty from him. He's not good in these situations. "I haven't been the best." That's... certainly an understatement. And he knows it, too, judging from the look of guilt on his features.

Silence fills the kitchen for a few moments. Leon struggles to find the words that he wants to say—and he does have so many things to tell you. He wants you to know just how much he's missed you. He wants you to know how thankful he is for you always sticking around. He wants you to know how sorry he is for not being the boyfriend he thinks you deserve.

But... Leon was never really that good at expressing himself. Communication is one of his weakest points—he's closed off. Hard to read. But he's trying. Very hard, right now, just for you.

Because Leon loves you.

"I haven't called you. I'm sorry. I've been..." Leon swallows, shaking his head for a moment, as he then lets out a sigh. "There's no excuse. I'm sorry."

Eye contact with Leon is something that you've always savored. He's the kind of man that makes you weak in the knees just from the looks that he gives you. Of course, yes—that extends to this very moment. His eyes are full of so much... love, is it? Appreciation for you? Whatever it is, it's making your face turn redder and your heart beat faster and your hands clammier than they have ever been for the past year.

"I know you're busy, Leon... you don't have to apologize to me." The feeling of his hands running along your arms has you breathing a little quicker than before. "I'm not upset at you for it." You are, though. And he knows it. And he knows that you're just refusing to admit it because you don't want to stress him out any more than he already is, considering the state of his job.

Another long, tense silence fills the room as the both of you struggle to find the words to say. This isn't how he wanted your meeting after God knows how long to go—even though, realistically, after being neglected by him for so long... this was the only possible outcome. Still, he savors the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. He savors the pretty color of your eyes and the way you look at him so intensely that it makes his knees weak. Not that he would ever admit that last part.

"I love you. More than you know... I'm sorry." Another apology slips from his lips as he continues to feel the skin of your arms. The way his thumb rubs circles on your shoulder makes you want to explode and melt into putty right then and there. "I want to do better. To show you how much you really mean to me."

"How do you plan to do that?" The question comes out softly; the tone of your voice unconsciously sweet as you find the anger and bitterness seeping out of you by the second. It feels good. He's only touching your arm, and yet, it feels too good. You needed this. He needed this more than you did.

Leon, once more, is not a man very adept at communication. He keeps his feelings bottled up. A defense mechanism—he has to, in the line of work that he's in. What is good at, though, is showing you. You barely register it at first, the feeling of his lips on yours. It's so familiar yet alien at the same time. It's been so, so long.

His lips are soft as they're on your own. Leon's hands gently wrap around your body: one clinging to your upper arm, the other perched right on your waist. His favorite place to touch when you're kissing like this—something you'd nearly forgotten. You respond nearly immediately, almost instinctively, as your lips match his own. The tears that were just falling from your face ten minutes ago are long since forgotten now. He pulls away, much to your dismay.

"I missed you." Leon's lips are back on your own before you can respond; his touch and kiss sweet and soft and loving and essentially everything you've ever wanted for the past however long. He pulls away again, hovering over your lips. "I love you."

"I missed you more." You respond, gripping to pull him closer. He leans in again, the ghost of a smile on his lips at the way you quip back at him. These are the moments that he truly relishes in. Being inside of your warm apartment, feeling your lips on him, being able to touch you all over without having to worry about the constraint of time. Just being with you. If he had his way, it would be like this every day. He'd wake up next to you. Tell you how much you mean to him. Feel you. Every day.

"The thought of you is the only thing that kept me going." Leon says softly, his hands riding up your arms to cup your face in both of his palms. He places one sweet, soft kiss on your lips. Then another. "Knowing that I'd be able to come back to you one day."

The admission has you speechless—you think, at least. It might just be the way he's kissing you, the way he's guiding you closer to him and the way his lips are beginning to move with just the slightest bit more passion. You’re putty in his hands, and he's equally putty in yours.

It's not long before his hands start to... travel. He can't help it. Leon is a disciplined man. His job requires it of him; self control is an aspect of his personality that's saved he and many, many of the other people that he's come to work with. When it comes to you, though, he finds it... particularly hard to keep himself in check. It's evident in his restrained motions against you.

The way his hands flutter to your waist, squeezing the flesh slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough for you to not be able to ignore it's presence. His breath quickens, the warmth fanning over your face as you swear his pupils are blown further than you've ever seen them. He doesn't want you getting the wrong idea, though. He really did just come to give you some flowers and apologize... but it's you.

How can he not want to lose control?

Leon is a very selfless man... times like this, however, he finds himself to become increasingly selfish. "I love you," he repeats, his fingers running along the hem of your shirt. Cold fingers press against the warmth of your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as they travel further up your torso. "Let me show you how much I love you."

"In the kitchen?" The question comes out more teasing than angry, the breathlessness of your tone making Leon's grip on your skin tighten. There's no response for a few moments—not because he's ignoring you, but because he's focusing on placing wet, hot kisses on your neck and lining them just below your ear. He knows you're sensitive there. He breaks away from your neck for a few moments.

The way his eyes are trained on your own have your heartbeat quickening even faster; the lack of a response making you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You're not even naked, and still he manages to make you feel so exposed under his gaze. One of his hands begin to bunch up your shirt, not enough to fully reveal your body.

You try not to focus on his arms too much—try not to focus on the way the veins line the muscles that he's built over the years. You try not to focus on the protrusion in his pants. His labored breathing. The way that he looks at you.

"In the bed." he uses the hand gripping your shirt to begin to guide you down the hallway. Towards the bedroom.

Leon makes good on his promise of showing his love for you.

It's been too long since you've been with him like this. Back flush against the bed, shirt pulled up just under your chin, his hands roaming all over the soft skin of your body, squeezing on the sensitive flesh of your thighs. His fingers ghost over the fabric of your underwear for a few moments, eyes trained on your reaction as he relishes in the way that you squirm under him.

"Just as sensitive as I remember," he muses, his knuckle applying pressure slightly—a smile on his face as he anticipates your reaction. "It's been too long."

"Mm," You can only hum in response, the sound of your own pulse thrumming in your ears as your body unconsciously reacts to his touch. "Yeah. I missed you."

The two of you have said the phrase at least a dozen times by now—and yet, still, the meaning of it isn't diminished in even the slightest. You missed this. And he missed this more than you could ever even know. So many nights of him staying up late, imagining you pressed up against him. Imagining himself between your thighs.. hands pressed under his pants, eyes screwed shut as he reminisced on the sounds that you'd make.

Leon can't wait anymore.

He's toyed with you enough. Propping himself on his knees, slotted between your legs, he begins to pull at his belt buckle. Your breath is shallow, paused even as you watch him unzip his pants. He uses one hand, tugging on the button as the other reaches for you. Leon's fingertips ghost along the curve of your body, feeling along the swell of your hip, reaching to the indent of your waist. His hand presses into your chest, feeling the flesh below him—his fingertips pinching your nipple and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"Leon—" The sound of his belt and pants crumpling to the floor cut you off. You tremble beneath him, body taut and awaiting his touch. The tips of Leon's ears are pink as he wraps his hand around his shaft, breathing labored as his thumb swipes over the slit of his head—collecting the precum that very freely seeps in need for you.

It's big. Like the rest of him. Big enough that each time you two have sex, he has to press inside you slowly, slow enough so that you could adjust to the size. Still, despite this, he splits you open each time.

He lines himself up. Your thighs wrap around Leon's hips, hands perched on his arm that rests on your own. The blunt tip of his cock presses against you, smearing his precum as your back instinctively arches again upon feeling his touch. Leon's breath is very, very audibly labored.

"You okay?" The worry in his tone is evident as his cock spreads you open, slowly but surely slipping into you. Inch by inch. One hand grips onto the skin of your hip, keeping you in place as his swollen cock splits you open. You can't respond, of course. The way that he bullies his way inside of you leaves you all but breathless, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin of his forearm. All you can do is nod.

"Good," his eyes on you are full of nothing less than pure adoration, his voice raspy and low and full of desire. "You feel so good already."

You're caged between Leon and the bed. The scent of aftershave and his cologne engulfs you just as much as his body around you does, his lips hovering over yours ever so often as he whispers praises in your ear and tells you just how sweet you look under him and how well you take his cock. It's not long before he's fully sheathed inside of you, the imprint of his cock shaping your insides and filling you completely.

"You feel—" Leon sheathes the rest of his cock inside of you, the last couple inches pulling a drawn out whine from you as you take all of him. A groan escapes Leon's lips, his head hanging low for a few moments as he steadies himself and struggles to adjust to just how good and warm you feel wrapped around him. In the moment of respite, his hands roam up and down your body, dedicating the shape and the curve to his memory as he elicits whimpers from you by rolling the peaks of your nipples between his two fingers.

"Leon... please." He slides his length out of you slowly, a sigh to his voice that compliments the whine you let out at the overwhelming feeling of him slipping in and out of you slowly. He craves this; craves the feeling of you under him, the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him, the touch of your lips on his own. His obsession with you encompasses his thoughts every second.

"You're too good to me..." Rasp lines his voice as he looks at you underneath him. The way your hair is a mess, the expression of your face as he presses his cock back inside of you. The sight of your body, bare, for him. And only him. It's hard not to get lost in the feeling of you. The slow pace Leon sets only quickens with each passing moment, his hips snapping against your own as he makes a conscious effort to pull out all the way each time to slam his hips back and press inside of you.

The feeling is unrivaled; the sight of this handsome man—your boyfriend—sighing and groaning on top of you at the feeling of you around him. The way that he's splitting you open—his hips brutally pounding into you with all of the strength that he can muster.

Leon hungrily watches you. He watches the way your eyebrows are raised, the way your eyes roll towards the back of your skull with each particularly hard thrust inside of you. Watches the way your body ripples with each pounding of his cock into you. The way you look up at him, your expression so fucked out and pretty... it takes everything in him to not cum right then and there.

"C—can't—feels too good, Leon—" Your whines and moans come out in unintelligible babbles as the skin slapping sound reverberates in the small walls of your bedroom. Leon doesn't stop—he can't stop, even. The groans from his throat are low are raspy, each one sending a throb of need throughout your body.

"Fuck," His hands pull at your hips, lifting the bottom half of your body up slightly to better angle his cock as it slams into you. "Feel so fucking good. Needed this." The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust of his hips, the springs of your boxboard even creaking as he fucks you into the mattress. Leon is rough.

But you like it.

You like the underlying tender current in his movements, long for the way his hands pull as you and maneuver you as if you weigh nothing. You like the way you can hear the squelching sounds as he pounds into you. You're sure that he's going to leave little finger-pad shaped bruises on your hips by the time that he's done with you—not that you're actively thinking of it; too busy focusing on the mind-numbing pleasure that your boyfriend gives you as he fucks you harder than he ever has before. It'll be a reminder of the night you've shared together.

The pleasure is too much. It's all-encompassing, making your toes curl as Leon's eyes screw shut in response—head hanging low as he struggles to keep whatever semblance of control that he has left. It always seems to escape him when he's with you. Especially when he's with you like this: buried inside of you, making you remember who you belong to, and pulling those pretty noises out of your mouth that he touches himself to every night he's not with you.

Leon's memorized your body by now. He has to, to survive every night he spends away from you. Every crevice, curve, and every motion that you make. From the way your back is arching, the way that your hands claw at his own—leaving angry red marks—it's clear that you're close. The way that you squeeze around him, leak around him... it's obvious.

"Gonna cum in you," he states, doesn't say—doesn't ask, he tells. "And you're gonna take it all." There's nothing you can do but take it. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all down your neck—drawing back for a moment to place another right on your lips. He swallows up your whines, the noises muffled by his lips spurring him onward. His hips twitch, and stutter—but he keeps the pace. Leon wants to show you how much he loves you, remember?

His hips drive into you, burying his shaft to the hilt inside of you every time. It's almost like a game to him—fucking you as hard as he can—the prize being the sounds you make each time he impales you with his cock. You grip at his hands, pulling on them—pulling on his arms, the sheets below you—anything. Anything to ground you.

He doesn't stop. Even as you're whining his name, babbling about how you're gonna cum, even as you're arching and shaking under him as you cum around him—hard. Your hands and fingers are nothing to the feeling of being filled by him. Leon fucks you through your orgasm, his own voice shaky as he talks you through it. Telling you how beautiful you are. How well you take him. Telling you to keep squeezing his cock like that, because he's so close.

Leon's hips sputter and twitch, his pace faltering as he groans—deep and raspy—his balls squeezing as he empties himself inside of you. He presses his hips into you still, buried to the hilt so that not even a modicum of space separates him from you. Thick, hot ropes of his cum spurt inside of you. You can even feel him shaking from the intensity of his orgasm.

Still buried inside of you, Leon leans down, pressing his body on top of yours as he seeks out your warmth and the comfort of your arms wrapped around him. He almost doesn't want to pull out—and in another act of selfishness, he decides to linger in you for just a few moments. You don't stop him.

A comfortable silence befalls the room. Save for the sounds of your breathing, the room is quiet. It takes a few moments of riding out the aftershocks and gaining your conscience back (since he did fuck it out of you) for you to speak.

"I don't want you to leave." Leon knows that you're always sappy after sex. It's why he spends extra time cuddling you. Reminding you that you're the only one for him. That only you make him feel so much love. Your hands hug him tighter, bringing him even closer down on to you.

"Not leaving." He mutters, voice slightly muffled as his face is buried in the crook of your neck.

That's all you needed to hear.

#EXTRA LONG JUST FOR U ELIAS.#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #re #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy smut #writing #nsydfw #resident evil smut #leon scott kennedy x reader

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kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago

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BTS fic recs: November 2023

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post to let them know that they’re appreciated 💜 And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | 💜 (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐Friend or Fuck by @joonsmagicshop [8K] // knj x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 A drunken night leads to a good morning.

🗨️ I really liked this 🥺 Namjoon was just so sweet, caring and gentle with OC. Really loved it 👏🏾 but why, oh why did Jungkook have to cockblock them 😂 I wanted the smut alright! The build up was so good, I was slightly frustrated with the ending 🙈 yes I’m a slut for smut okay 🙈 I’m hoping for a part two ✌🏾🙏🏾💜

⭐Emotions of the Soul 💯by @oddinary4bts [36.6K] // knj x f.reader // idol!au, childhood/teenage lovers to s2l2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 When Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

🗨️ This is another masterpiece from Ella! She is incredible at writing idol!au’s that just feels so goddamn natural and real 👏 The way Namjoon is written is just perfection and OC with her struggles, and they are goddamn human, yes – and that’s one of the beautiful parts in it!!! 😭I also reminded me of my own teenage breakup (gosh I was stupid back then, but not because of the breakup lol 😂). Anyway, please go and read it! As with everything Ella write, this is another to add to my favorites 💜

Seokjin

Nothing this month 😞

Yoongi

⭐Workaholic 💯by @hobiwonder [10K] // myg x f.reader // “‘strangers” to lovers (I don’t want to spoil!) // 🥵😂🥰

📝 Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night.

🗨️ Wow okay, this was so freaking great! Like, what??? Incredible! A masterpiece! I really really loved it 🥺 everything was so fucking good, their chemistry, the tense build up ugh, so fucking good! 💯 ✨

⭐Little bit of your Heart by @yoongiofmine [wordcount loading…] // myg x f.reader, jjk x f.reader // exes!au, fwb!au // 🥵

📝 You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it?

🗨️ Yes here we go a new series from Ella! ✨ Yoongi already seems so done with Jungkook and they have barely spoken 😂 looking forward to how that develops 🤭

⭐What the Moon Saw + Stolen Tides 💯by @violetsiren90 // myg x f.reader // non-idol!au, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 In the words of the great Stevie Nicks, "Time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older too."

🗨️ This is just so fucking beautiful. Everything. About. It. Period. 😭 It is emotional, it is young love, and it is tender and loving - like, Yoongi is just so sweet. Their timing sucks, but thankfully Violet wrote a beautiful drabble to give the couple a lovely ending! 💜 Truly, please go read it, it is so good I was crying and felt so good after, it’s sweet – OKAY I’M SOFT I know.

Hoseok

⭐Flight 18 💯by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul. You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat. Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

Jimin

⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble 💯by @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰

📝 As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

🗨️ This is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves 💯

⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] 💯by @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵

📝 Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally.

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💯💜

⭐Flowers & Sex by @7deadlysinsfics [4.5K] // pjm x f.reader // fwb, f2l au, pwp // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 You’re in need of a warm body and a good fuck. who better than your friend park jimin?

🗨️ Just really cute 🥺 Hoseok (readers ex in this) is a douche though, like why did she have to go back to him ugh 🥴 but I like how the story developed and reader realized her feelings after she took her ex back. Loved Jimin and how he gave her flowers 💐 he was so fucking cute 🥺🌸

⭐Heaven with You by @acc3ssdenied [4.7K] // pjm x f.reader // friends to ??? // 🥵

📝 All good things happen after 2 am - at least, that was what you believed. Whoever thought it was a good idea for a group of twelve young adults to play drunk truth or dare obviously agreed with you.

🗨️ Oh this was some filthy smut 🥵 And that kiss with Taehyung was downright slutty – a really good pwp 🥵

⭐Have some Respect by @chim-chimmie [4.2K] // pjm x f.reader // school/college!au, teacher!jimin // 🥵

📝 Your teacher Park Jimin has had enough of you disrespecting him, so he taught you a little lesson.

🗨️ Okay, okay, I know the teacher x student dynamic is a touchy subject, and not always well executed, but hear me out, alright. This was so freaking sinful, like my soul needs to take a shower now??? 🥵

⭐Rush by @bangtanfanfiction [4K] // pjm x f.reader // idol!jimin // 🥵🥰

📝 After not seeing your boyfriend for several weeks, his latest performance definitely made something in you snap. And at a award show of all things.

🗨️ A good pwp with smut that is 🔥

⭐How Long? by @jiminniethemarshmallow [4K] // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 No summary!

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it’s still so fucking hot and filthy 🥵

⭐Turbulence by @yminie [9.3K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 On your first flight the cute boy next to you helps to sooth your nerves, and on the second flight he soothes something else.

🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this a few years back and I’ve actually read it multiple times, it’s just so incredible 👏🏾 the smut is freaking hot, and Jimin is just 🤯 well, he’s being a sweet fluffball, but then a smexy God 🥵 like wtf! The duality is insane! One of my favorites and I’m looking forward to rereading part two ✨💜

⭐Accelerate by @yminie [8.9K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Jimin comes to retrieve his jacket on the condition that you then accompany him for dinner, and you can bet he satiates every hunger.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

Taehyung

Nothing this month 😞

Jungkook

⭐Love à Trois [series; ongoing] by @letjungcoook7 [13.1K] // jjk x f.reader x pjm // slice of life, f2l+s2l, roommates!au, college!au, love triangle // 🥵🌩️

📝 You and Jimin secretly have feelings for each other, you both realize your dream of studying at the same college and sharing an apartment, but when financial issues start to arise, you have to seek a third roommate. and guess who fate sends your way? Jungkook, the same guy who took your virginity back in high school.

🗨️ This is really good! There’s two chapters up so far and they are really good! It’s so interesting to see the love triangle unfold. Really enjoyed this 🌸 It’s just getting better and better ✨ I really loved the backstory of how both Jimin and OC realized they had feelings for each other 🥺 so good and really looking forward to the next chapter 😍

⭐Sweet Obsession by @letjungcoook7 [2.5K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship, plussize!reader // 🥵🥰

📝 When a coworker starts to show interest in you, your boyfriend becomes jealous.

🗨️ Whaaaaaaaat 🥹This was so incredibly sweet and tender! As a plus-sized curvy girl, this was such a good and lovely read 💖 Another banger from Lua💜

⭐The Wedding Planners 💯by @gukyi [28K] // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 😂🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding.

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it was just a very funny and pleasant reread 💜 What I love about this is one, is definitely the slow-burn and the enemies to lovers aspect too. The banter between reader and Jungkook is just so priceless and reading how their relationship slowly unfolds and develops through the months of the wedding planning was just everything 💯 Hoseok and Yoongi’s personality in this also makes this fic truly amazing.

⭐Fragment of the Past (1)(2)(3) [series; completed] 💯by @ctrlsht [28.1K] // jjk x f.reader // patient!jk x psychiatrist!reader // 🌩️😈👻🥵

📝 You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

🗨️ Another first for me, with the thriller vibes and damn it delivers on that! It’s really, really good 👏 Pacing is really good and how we see more and more of Jungkook’s disturbing traits is just brilliant ✨If you want my full review of it, you can find it here (it does contain spoilers though!). And I really think you shouldn’t spoil it! Just go read it if you’re into the darker stuff, because my heart was racing so damn fast! This is the best thriller yandere au I’ve read to date 💜

⭐Lost on You by @letjungcoook7 [2.1K] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵

📝 You're just so obsessed with your boyfriend. you would do anything for him.

🗨️ Ehm excuse me Lua, mirror sex???? 🥵 Fucking hell that was a hot one, like I almost feel like I need to take a shower 😂 another banger from you! And the dirty talking too, aish 🥵 💖

OMG November has truly been an exceptional month! There was my 30th birthday of course, and then I received so my love for my series ‘friendcation’ that I was crying with all the beautiful words and reviews I got 😭 I am so thankful for every one of you, whether you interact with my fic recs or my own – thank you! 💜

Borahae 💜

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ambswoso · 1 year ago

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invisible string - leah williamson

hi lovelies.

basically i’m in the process of writing a leah williamson fic but it’s going to be on wattpad because no matter how hard i try i can’t write short fics.

it’s a friends to lovers slow burn with a hell of a lot of pining. i just wanted to add a snippet of a chapter here and see what everyone thinks.

it’s only a small snippet but i’ve wrote a lot more already.

“Hey beautiful.” I heard him down the phone.

“Hi, you okay?”

“Yeah just checking up on my girl.” I could hear his smile down the phone. “And i just wanted to tell you that I probably won't be here when you get back tomorrow.”

“Oh, why?” i frowned.

“Just got to help dec with some stuff tomorrow afternoon and evening, nothing special.” He brushed off.

“Okay, well let me tell you about what Sarina said in the meeting ear-” I started.

“Actually babe, I don't really have time to talk, I just wanted to let you know about tomorrow.” he said, sounding preoccupied.

“Oh, well I love you, I'll see you maybe tomorrow.”

“Yeah erm probably not. Bye baby.” and he hung up.

Taking a moment, I gripped the sink and inhaled deeply trying to get the feeling in the pit of my stomach to go away. Something felt off about that phone call, but something felt off in almost every other phone call we've had for about 6 months. I looked in the mirror and painted a smile on my face in case any of the girls were still in my room.

Luckily, Leah was the only one left.

“You okay?” she asked, as she put her phone down next to her on the bed.

“Yeah I'm fine.” I started to tidy up from where some of the girls had left cushions or cups. “I’m just tired, you know. Forgot how intense everything is here.”

I finally looked up to Leah’s eyes following me around the room. She was looking at me in a way only Leah did, a way that I didn't even have the words to describe.

“Can I just have a cuddle?” I asked her, my voice breaking half way through my question.

She didn't say anything, she didn't have to. She just held her arms out, inviting me in. I lay down virtually on top of her and wrapped my arms around her waist whilst hers went to my hair.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she whispered.

“No, can you just stay here for a minute?” I said, really fighting to hold back the tears I knew were brewing.

“You couldn't get rid of me even if you tried.”

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson #awfc x reader #awfc #lionesses #woso imagine #leahwilliamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson fanfic

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shuamorollss · 1 year ago

Text

Wishing we were more than friends — sim jaeyun x fem!reader

Going home with friends you easily get along with are fun, what isn't fun is to linger feelings for one of them. Already in a course to move on from your silly feelings... you would never expect that very friend you're trying to move on from, starts to develop feelings for you back.

romance, angst, friends2lovers, Italicized parts means flashbacks warnings— Jake kinda gives reader mixed signals, tension but idk if this should still be a warning lol, pls tell me if i should add more! 6.9k wc + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

author's notes— Thank you to my lovelies @haerinz and @luvistqrzzz for proofreading I love u both sm!! I wouldn't hv made this fic better without y'all's help <3 this is kinda inspired by some events that happened to me irl! it was cute to reminisce these memories so I wrote them down here HAHAHAHAHA

perm tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon

After school rolled by fast. The next thing you knew, you were walking home with Seeun, Tsuki, Sunghoon, and Jake.

You all lived in the same neighborhood, hence why you all have stuck together in order to get home safely, due to your hometown being a bit too far away to where you all go to school.

Adding to that, all of you are different people. Different tastes, different years, different cliques in school, yet all of you get along so well when united. Honestly, you absolutely cherish this bond and you never want this friendship with them to fade.

You have a good relationship with all of them, although you have one of a rocky road with Jake.

He was quiet, he never talks as much, and when he does, he only talks to Sunghoon.

You've had a conversation with him from time to time, it was rare due to the fact you had lingering feelings for the man, and that feeling caused you to be vulnerable whenever he's near, which affected your demeanor around him.

Only Seeun knew your admiration for Jake, and she never told a soul, thankfully.

This feeling of yours lasted for a while, until you promised to yourself (and to Seeun) that by the end of that very year, you'll be moving on from your romantic feelings for him.

And that's what exactly happened.

New years rolled around, and so was back to school sessions. Nowadays, you are able to talk to Jake normally unlike before. You were extremely proud of this development, considering you were head over heels for him nonstop for the past 4 months… You saw sides of Jake you wished you saw sooner. He was a funny guy, typically quiet at best, though when he speaks, he'll tell the craziest stories that'll get you hooked.

Even with the improvements on your friendship with Jake and the feeling of butterflies never seems to be present anymore.

Jake eventually found out about your past feelings for him though.

During a silly game of truth or dare.

"Alright! Who's next!" Sunghoon sneered, holding the bottle on the ground as he spun the bottle.

Everyone decided to come by to your house to cook and watch movies, though after the watch, they all decided to stay and have more fun. Thus, right at this moment, you all were playing the very harmless truth or dare game.

Everyone formed a circle, some of them hastily drumming on their thighs as they intensely waited for the bottle to land on someone.

As the bottle slows down, they all teased Sunghoon, who was beside you, and had the bottle almost landing on him. The intensity of the bottle moving at a snail's pace infuriates Sunghoon, cussing their teases off. Until he lets out a triumphant yell as the Bottle stops to you.

"Please thank you! Thank you bottle." Sunghoon teared up, as if he just won an academy award.

"So Y/N," Seeun started, and your heartbeat quickened, already expecting the question that would be asked.

It's Seeun, she knows your darkest secrets, you were so sure she'll step on the opportunity to ask about… Jake.

Seeun paused, her eyes widened to your direction.

"Just to make sure, is it okay if I get personal?" Seeun asked calmly, and you knew that she was definitely, totally, going to ask about what you expect her to ask about.

"Of course, I'll answer anything honestly, I swear." You retorted, giving Seeun a warm smile as everyone in the circle started breathing out deep 'ooh's as if you had just said something vile.

"Did you like anyone in our circle, and if you did, Who was it?" Seeun cheekily smiled

Truthfully, you were indeed confident in answering any questions even if it's personal. Maybe this might also be the time to finally confess your faded feelings to Jake, since you seemed to notice now that you were way too obvious back then, therefore Jake's reaction might not be so surprised by the time you mention his name in your answer, moreso, it would be a neutral reaction as if he expected it in the first place.

You ponder for a moment, looking at your friends in the circle intently, though your eyes stay at Jake for a few seconds, then back to Seeun.

"Yeah, I did like someone," The tone of your voice was assured, which made some of them let out another segment of 'ooh's and 'oh's, and some of them just widening their eyes, including Jake.

You sigh idly, "It was Jake…"

That name alone caused everyone to freak out, all the eyes and attention transferring to the man across you.

You didn't want them to take the wrong Idea, especially Jake, so you stood up in order to plead your case.

"To be clear, I USED to like you okay! I don't like you anymore." You reconfirm, Jake only nodded with a wide smile, and that was enough for you to calm yourself down as everyone else were still freaking out.

Jake shared his thoughts and reaction to your confession, and rest assured to you that he didn't feel the same for you ever, and that was enough for you to hear since this had encouraged your romantic feelings for him to dissolve completely, seeing him more in a platonic light.

After that silly confession of truth you had answered, said again, your friendship with Jake grew. Finally teasing and joking with him without having your heart flipping out by the mere sight of him, and of course, telling him stories.

You were content with that type of bond, and you were glad you were as equally close to all of them now, especially Jake.

That is…

until you two weren't.

Again.

5 months have passed since that truth or dare game, the normal still continued. You all usually go home together after school and when hungry the five of you always go to the mall and eat there instead.

Though during those days, you began developing a crush on a new guy, just a cute barista you knew at a local café. Joking about having slight interest in him to your friends was funny and tolerable, until it became a normal delusion for you to see him in that kind of light.

Those were also the days Jake started being distant to you, as if the old days relieved itself once again.

You had no idea why, but since you were too preoccupied with your new crush, you didn't think much of it.

A month later has passed, you completely had gotten over that barista crush you had, and now you were already studying for your final exams, though your mind was clouded with Jake.

You curse at your conscience. Scolding yourself saying that you're already over him way too long ago, and that you were so sure that his feelings never involved ever liking you back ever, even once.

So why…

Why did that night happen?

"Wow, Y/N," Jake speaks out softly, his eyes sparkling at the sight of your prom attire.

"Is it bad? I didn't have time to do my hair so I just went with this really lazy Elsa hairdo—"

"You're beautiful." He grins from ear to ear, in which you subconsciously mirror his expression. The silence was too loud for the air between the both of you. You were unable to move, as well as your eyes that didn't seem to look elsewhere other than his eyes.

He looked dashing with his tux, and you couldn't get yourself to tell it to him.

You didn't need to, Jake already knew just by the looks of you staring at him, there was no need for him to even ask.

He took a step forward and reluctantly, yet gently offered you his hand.

"May I have this dance… With you?"

You took a few seconds to answer, darting your gazes to his visage and down to his idly shaking hand in front of you.

You took a deep breath, placing your hand on his, and that was enough for Jake to know that you wanted it. You wanted to dance with him.

You walk with him to the dance floor, your eyes never leaving his figure, even when you two have already started to dance.

The way his hands were placed on your waist left you with a burning mark on your cheeks, most likely your whole body. Everything in your body felt like numbing out just by the bare of his hands. Your hands nervously snakes up to the back of his neck, and the stars in your eyes only showed up when the man was in view.

There was only silence between you, and it's not the silence you fear anymore. It was more of a silence you two were fond of. The sole fact that you two have never been this close before, and this dance being the very first time you get to feel Jake up close as this, made you feel warm and comfortable. The same thing goes for Jake.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you, he never wanted to anyway. All he could see is you and only you, and that's what made the atmosphere in your little couple bubble perfectly complacent.

"So…" Jake whispered, breaking the silence between you and him. Feet continues to dance through the rhythm

"So…?" You repeated, raising a brow confusingly.

"About the barista… Are you perhaps… over him?"

You chuckled, at the man's words. It was out of nowhere for him to ask about your past crush. You never considered this question and it didn't seem like he's curious about your feelings either… it's that this was the first ever conversation you're having with him after a few weeks of not talking.

You two still proceed to hangout due to being in the same friend group. Although, conversations were never present between you and Jake.

So him having these as his first words to you left you stunned, however you are not about to show him that. Given that you already stated that you have moved on from him… right?

"I'm very much over him. Why do you ask?" You tilt your head slightly due to curiosity.

"Good." He flashed a grin, staying silent after, realizing that he completely ignored your question.

You didn't want to keep asking and get him mildly annoyed, so you only stayed quiet.

Just how Jake wanted it.

The two of you continued to dance, it has been a few minutes and your feet still followed the rhythm of the song. You didn't seem to want to let go of him just yet, and so did he.

Jake was intoxicated by the smell of your perfume, inhaling then following that sweet aroma coming from your neck, as if he was attracted to it, leading him to lean his head on your shoulder.

Jake's eyes were closed, feeling the moment, as he squeezed your waist tighter, causing your body to feel against his.

You seem to lose control over your body. You felt like plopping down like a blob any minute. Despite that feeling, all it could do was just follow the steps to the rhythm of Jake's feet. Your eyes only stayed widened the whole time, feeling the warmth of his skin touching your bare shoulder was something you couldn't bear. You wanted to break down right at the moment, your heart was palpitating for the reason of your position right now.

"I'm glad." Were the very words Jake had said before his lip placed a peck at the side of your neck, letting out a faint gasp as that contact alone completely freezes your entire body. Jake stands back after, his eyes centered to his hand that was tenderly sliding down your arm and onto your hand.

"Let's go?"

You look at him and nod slowly as he holds your hand. following Jake out of the dance floor, guiding you back to your table and leaving you once he had finally taken you to your seat.

Then he never came back for you for the rest of the event.

You felt breathless, you were in a complete daze while reminiscing that thought. Leaving you frustrated for the reason of losing focus of your current studies.

"How else can I focus if all I could think about is Jake, Jake, and Jake?! " You groaned. Ranting endlessly to yourself, slumping your body on the soft mattress of your bed, completely surrendering your studies and promising yourself to continue tomorrow instead, by the time you get home.

You were babbling to the air for a good minute until your phone started to ring. Immediately picking it up to see Seeun's name calling.

"Hey? What's up?" You started.

"Sorry to keep this phone call short Y/N, but I'll text you more of the deets after. I'm not gonna go to school tomorrow because of an emergency and I was wondering if I could give you all my homework requirements tomorrow before you go to school? Just give it to Sheon please… Sorry for the bother I really am." Seeun stated, sounding petrified.

You quickly obliged to her simple favor thinking her situation must be grave since Seeun wasn't the one to skip classes whenever she pleases, so after the phone call, Seeun texted you once more of the details of her situation and why she couldn't come to school the next day.

School period ended early due to the heavy pour of the weather. Although even with the beneficial period cutoff, you didn't bring an umbrella. Only hoping that one of your friends has a spare, or could share with you.

You waited under a tree beside the gate of your school. now you're only waiting for the rest of the gang to come by… Though only one came.

"Let's go." Jake opened the umbrella, tilting his head in a direction where you all normally headed.

"Huh? Aren't we gonna wait for the rest?" You asked confusingly, looking back to the school in case you'd spot either Tsuki or Hoon.

"Sunghoon went home early due to an emergency, Tsuki just didn't go to school, and Seeun texted me saying to pass her excuse letter to her adviser… They didn't tell you?" Jake's perplexed expression intimidated you, you only knew Seeun's case although not the rest, so you only shrugged as a response and not by words.

So you'll be walking home with Jake… only. Just the two of you, in one umbrella.

Jake notices you being empty umbrella-handed, and so he walks closer to have you jumping in it with him.

"Come on, let's just share." He offered, in which you immediately accepted. You know he was Jake, though you were desperate to at least be kilometers far from school

A few walks far away from school, the two of you haven't said a word to each other. The awkward air you felt suffocated the most is present, and your muddled thoughts and memories, especially the time with him at the prom, didn't help you regain the confidence to break such an air… Though you had the gut feeling you had to at least talk to him, now that you're this close once again, reminding you of the distance you two had during the prom.

You winced at that memory, causing the other to look at you discerned.

"Is everything okay?" He asked timidly, stopping his tracks as his eyes focused on your disgusted expression.

"I-I'm fine, I just… remembered something super embarrassing." You reasoned, not wanting to tell him what really overcame in your head.

Jake slid it off and continued walking, it was another long series of silence between you and Jake once again.

You swore 2 months ago you were just nudging his arms because of his jokes… Why would you both feel this awkward and have your friendship with him regress after it was doing so well.

The next thing you knew, you two were already in your neighborhood, a few more walks until Jake reached his home, and then yours.

You thought to yourself that Jake would go home then pass you the umbrella instead, however to your surprise, Jake walked past the gate of his home which left you with questions.

"Are you walking me home?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Oh, nothing. I just thought you were gonna stop by your house and give me your umbrella instead, since my home is still a few more walks from yours."

"It's raining hard, you shouldn't be out here on your own—"

As he was about to end his sentence, a loud thunder struck and white lightning flashed the sky, causing you to shriek, holding the umbrella to cover you well from the pouring rain.

"Oh my god.." You muttered, Tightening the grip of the umbrella handle that Jake was also holding.

"Oh god— I'm sorry, let's get home fast please." You yell out in fear, your heart rapidly beating as if another flash of lightning and shriek of thunder was about to come by in a few seconds. Your fearful grip on the umbrella still stayed, as you started walking at a fast pace that Jake immediately catched up on, which goes on until you both have reached your home.

You both stood at the front of your porch for a short minute, you had no idea why Jake stopped his tracks, you only stopped for the reason that he stopped first.

and so without having much patience, you recklessly hopped on to the porch, partially getting yourself wet, even if your hand was still at the contact of Jake's umbrella handle. Before you moved completely to avoid getting more drenched from the rain, you felt another hand gently placed on top of yours.

Yet again— another series of silence as you two stare at each other's eyes. Jake slowly makes his steps onto your porch. The contact on the umbrella didn't seem to break, as the two of you transferred your gazes to where your hands were placed. You didn't want to let go, yet deep down, you were scared, your head was spinning to nowhere as his hand never let go of yours.

You began to conflict with yourself, your eyes slowly transitioning to a horrified state. A feeling you don't understand— a feeling so puzzling you don't even dare to question, having this whole ordeal with Jake is as just as confusing as your current, incoming, outburst.

"What… is wrong with you?" You let out, eyes welled up, and Jake only stared at your rapid change in demeanor. Your hand intensely retracts the hold on the umbrella as Jake's fingers automatically close the umbrella.

"Y-You're completely all over the place?" Your breath hitched, then facing behind from his view, your hands shrieked due to the heat building up your anger, than more so being it from the cold temperature of the rainy weather.

"I don't know… back then you were so fun to be with but now you have become so distant. I have no idea on how— or what happened that made you like that. I don't know if I did anything wrong or that made you feel uncomfortable in a way because If I did something— anything… I'm so sorry." You ranted, catching your breath as your eyes blazed onto the other, who remained quiet, drooping his eyes down to the wooden floor, unable to respond back.

"But… That one night, that one prom night…" You paused. Jake's head rises as he hears those very words from your tongue.

"You know damn well what I was talking about, do you?"

Jake's unresponsiveness didn't help calming down your systems. Instead, it made you more infuriated.

After a few seconds of silence, waiting for something, at least anything from the man, there was none.

You inhale the cold breeze from the continuous pouring rain just in front of you, as your hands subconsciously brush your hair messily in an infuriating manner. "I don't know what your intentions were that night. The way you asked me about that barista, Yeonjun? If I got over him… and that kiss— the way you kissed my neck? How?!— do you normally just do that to other girls…? 'Cause Jake I've been hanging out with you for the entirety of this school year and I've never seen you do anything like that,"

"Or maybe that truth or dare game? A lot changed after that game, after I confessed my old feelings for you. What did I do?— What happened to you? I assured you they were old feelings but a few months after that you started giving me signals, probably old me would've fan out to be honest... Were you just trying to relive my old feelings for you? Is it because you wanted my feelings to just stay attracted to you? Is that it? Because you are absolutely sick for that Sim Jaeyun… You don't know how vulnerable and conflicted I became when you started to change. I can't even grasp the situation or If I'm saying anything right because— I… don't understand you. One day you'll be quiet and wouldn't even say a single word to me, and then go I'm glad you moved on from mister barista and then leave me by the side and never come back? What was that? " Your voice echoed through the open porch. your words could easily be overlayed by the hard rain in the background yet they were loud enough for the man to comprehend. Every emphasis of the words and events you mention brings Jake back to his mind and recalls those memories that ever happened.

"I'm sorry." Finally a word from him, yet not something you had ever hoped for him to say.

Your comprehension of his response was him apologizing for doing any of the things you have just said. Cracking a part of your heart at the indirect confirmation of the man's intentions.

"I'm sorry..? You're sorry? Sorry?! "

"You're so fucking… fuck— selfish for that! You're nothing but a selfish freak who doesn't— who never thinks about others feelings. Only doing it for their own satisfaction and—"

"You don't know how vulnerable I am at the mere sight of you, Y/N."

You stopped mid sentence, stunned as your eyes darted to his standing figure. You take a few steps towards him, as if you wanted to hear his statement more clearly by the loud thundering climate.

It was at this moment that you realized that the following small thunders and big flashes of lightning didn't seem to startle you. All your focus only went to exposing your wholehearted antipathy to the other.

Jake's breath hitched the same as yours earlier on, it's like it was his turn to let out his jumbled feelings to you.

"There were no spare days where you didn't flood my thoughts. Day and night, Y/N, you were always present and I had no plan on stopping that infestation."

His dark eyes pierced through you, feeling the rush of the heavy wind kiss through your figure.

Despite his confession, you did not give the same treatment to how he was when you were on your outburst.

"Then why? Why would you do all that?"

"Because you told me, well— told us before that you stopped liking me by the time new years rolled around."

"You remembered the new years part?"

"Very much, yes,"

"Look, I didn't know my feelings would come to this. You were a fun friend, you were a great company, although I couldn't bear myself to be so near you after a few months."

"Why?" You whispered, eye furrowed at the confessions of the other.

"I always think that I might do something I'll regret." He takes a few steps backwards, the air between the both of you feeling as soothing as it was just suffocating and intense before.

"Like what?" You take a few steps forward, the same amount of steps Jake took.

"Y/N… stop" He took a few more steps backwards, rebuffing your ways on pushing him to answer your question.

You stepped closer and closer, and now too close to Jake, repeating the same question in an attempt to pressure him into bursting out his answer due to the stress and the annoyances of your nagging.

It was only a matter of time before Jake gave in, biting his lips in frustration as he felt his head heat up so close to combustion.

"goddammit Y/N." He aggressively grabs the collar of your blouse and proceeds to pull you 3 inches close to his face.

You swore you felt your heartbeat stop for a brief moment at the sudden contact of his nose onto yours. The way you felt his breath fanning over your lips, sensing the tense air he had been inhaling since he had stepped a foot on your porch.

It was only a matter of movement to have your lips connect yet Jake resisted the urge, releasing his grip from your blouse, causing you to limp backwards.

Your gaze at Jake with a baffled look, processing the thing that just happened.

It was hard to convince yourself that whatever that was, actually happened.

It was real, you felt it, everything.

There was silence. It felt like a wall being compressed and will mush the both of you into some sort of unrelenting concoction. Jake was too stunned about his own actions, turning around to storm off at the scene and probably forget that this ever happened.

As he took a few steps off the porch, you realized that you had enough with the distance, you felt so far away with Jake always running away all the time. Your mind was everywhere, especially the feeling of his face as similar as that again. You were desperate to know how he really felt for you, and you couldn't just let him walk away and watch again as his figure dissipated into the heavy pouring rain.

"Jake." You utter as you grip on his arm, spinning him around to face you as your hands snake up onto the back of his neck, tip toeing to reach the height of his lips, yet it was no reach. Even with what you had just done, you weren't about to kiss him anyway, you wanted to see how he'd react with your sudden motion.

It was only a matter of seconds until Jake attacked his lips on yours. It was an aggressive contact at first, sensing the desperation of his lips yet contrasting from his hands that carefully held your face as if it was glass.

You'd be lying if you said weren't desperate for it either, you had craved this type of contact ever since prom, it was only regretful to ever admit it personally. But now that you're fulfilling your most secret desire, most likely that this would be the time to embrace it.

God, you want him so bad.

Too bad.

The both of you lost the sense of surroundings, as you carelessly pushed him to the ramp of your porch as your lips were still intact. Leaving a quick gasp from Jake's end due to the startling feeling from the cold contact of his body.

The sudden hum coming from Jake's voice seized you to let go yet Jake didn't want your lips to part from his. Even with the force of his hands holding your face to him for much longer, he eventually gave in. Hands loosen the hold on your cheeks. You tensely took a few steps backwards as you started panting, your chest pumping in and out with Jake in unison, catching both of your remaining breaths and remaining comprehension from that predicament.

Your eyes pierced through Jake's gaze, your breathing is shaky, same goes for your hands… your body's frozen in place, all of these yet the reason does not ivolve the the cold temperature of the weather.

None of you exchanged any words. Instead, it was quiet, yet again, the area only filled with the small and loud droplets of the rain… It's merely raining anymore, as you only focus on him, hear him, and feel him.

Nothing makes sense at this moment. Honestly, you wanted to reach your senses to sense yet things just felt too out of the ordinary.

"Y/N, I'm sorry." Jake came through. Rushing for your comfort. Although you ran back with the presence of terror, opening your front door and slamming the door in front of him at the nick of time. You were speechless per say, you couldn't describe words, you couldn't speak out your thoughts. The sudden walk out suddenly sent Jake into a shock of panic.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, please— I didn't mean to—"

He proceeds to passively knock on your door repeatedly. He whispered a curse to himself as to resent the contact you two had shared. Biting his lips in pure regret at the mere memory a few minutes ago.

"Y/N please." The knocks still kept coming through.

You only stood against the door, paralleled from the man on the other side. You had no idea what course of action you were going to take. You were furious about the distance he kept himself from earlier, and then suddenly it was all gone because of a kiss. Yet here you are, setting up walls to him.

You didn't want any more walls or distance to grow, you wanted him to be forward to you and he'll do so.

Now, it's your turn to talk, before regret suffices.

"Shit. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry… I really am—"

"Jake," Your voice muffled against the door, which Jake had heard, immediately backing away at the click of the doorknob.

You twist the knob and pull it to see a distressed Jake in front of you. His doleful eyes locked onto your figure, waiting for you to tell him something, anything.

"I'm not… mad at you." you muttered.

Jake stood quiet as his look at you stayed bewildered.

"I was just startled… I didn't know what to do— or what to say." You plead, your eyes are red as it remains glistened.

No words came out from Jake, possibly dumbfounded by your response.

"When did you realize you liked me, by the way?" You asked out of nowhere, attempting to tone down the tension in your system from earlier.

"When you started talking about that barista more… and it's 'like'… without the D." He admitted it extremely easily, causing you to subconsciously let out a short chuckle unexpectedly at his last words.

"What?" Jake's brows furrowed at your uncalled reaction, his smile perking up at the sight of you smiling at him.

"You just said that so straightforwardly, it… it kinda caught me off guard."

"There's no point in getting nervous around you again, kissing you was my last straw."

"Oh, so you finally loosened your walls? "

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

The both of you shared the same laughter. Eyes showing genuine feelings of forgiveness. There was no need of words to let the both of you be reminded of anything, yet it still felt guilting.

"What if you become distant to me again?" you voiced your concern, the faint smile you had dropping almost at an instant at the thought of that question.

"I won't," The man only took deep breaths as he slowly took a few steps forward, stepping foot in your home. The tense air that compressed between yours and Jake made you shiver, it felt ticklish, although you concealed the feeling as you didn't want this distance to part with you.

"I like you, and even more than that,"

From his aggressive grip behind your head earlier to a much more gentle approach as he slowly wraps you in for a hug, chin laying softly on top of your head, and his hand transferring to the back of your hair, patting gently purely because he wanted you against him, he wanted to be the one to calm you down from his mistakes. His eyes in pure concern as if he had done so much unspeakable pain.

You, on the other hand, were extremely glad at his sudden action, feeling too content within his embrace. It was at this moment that you knew that you indeed love him too dearly, and you only hope for him to reciprocate these feelings similar to yours.

"And I'm grateful for myself to even say this so boldly to you, even if it meant breaking your heart."

It only startled you once more when the man had continued his words after a minute of pausing. The words coming out from lips breezed against your ear, making you hear the mumbled words almost clearly.

You sneered at his response, causing the man to change his expressions to mild uncertainty.

"Silly, you didn't break my heart… Well, kinda."

"I'll make up for it?" He offered, the warmth of his breath getting through to your scalp caused your body to briefly shiver at the feeling.

"How so?" You asked cheekily, transferring your gaze up to the toned down storm.

"Tomorrow, I'll pick you up?"

You stayed silent at his invitation, the other not having a quick peek of your reaction which led him to assume the worst due to your unresponsiveness.

"Or not… I'm sorry. Am I going too fast?"

With this realization, he parts his hand from your hair as he pushes himself from you unhurriedly.

Alternatively you quickly pull both of his arms back to your clingy embrace.

"No you're not. I just like being in this position with you right now," You muffled against his jacket, now having your warm breath fanning over the fabric of his cloth sent heat up to his cheeks, bringing his hand back to where it was before.

"Let's talk about dates another time… Let's focus about what everything is right now."

the clasp between one another was definitely at its high. It's something you don't seem to want to let go of, as if you're addicted. Now that you felt him like this more closer than before, you wanted this to go on eternally. Now that he's with you probably having the same exact feelings, you're not scared anymore. Not the distance, not the words, not his presence.

All of those became a comfort, and honestly, this was too good to be true.

As you drown yourself in your own dreamy thoughts, Jake's head transfers to the side of your head, tracing you out of a segment of your endless realizations, shivering you in the process due to the ticklish interval.

"How about you Y/N? Do you like me?" He questions.

You remembered daydreaming this moment every night during so many months back, that era of you hoping that someday it'll happen.

and every night you always reply and say the same words in the same scenario.

"I do, and more than just… like. I am insanely in love with you."

With just that, it had sent a critical hit on Jake's beating heart. He couldn't believe that you were still up to loving him again after all that he made her feel. Yet here you are, giving him a chance.

It still left a pinch of guilt within Jake for the reason of what he did to you that initiated your outburst of emotions from earlier. He was stunned to see that side of you and he wanted to never witness that side of you, ever.

It was at this moment that Jake would promise himself that he'd take care of you for the rest of his life, and that he wouldn't spare a single mistake of his to have you return to the feeling of heavy sorrow because of him again.

EXTRA:

"Where's Jake and Y/N?" Seeun asked worriedly. Standing beside the gate alongside Tsuki and Sunghoon as they watch crowds of students walk past the gate. Only waiting for their remaining friends to have their respective classes to be dismissed, yet it has been almost 30 minutes since they've been waiting and anxiety crawls up on their systems.

"I don't know? What if they didn't go to school today?" Tsuki responds, darting her eyes left to right inspecting as if both of you might be a part in the sea of students.

"If they didn't go to school, they would have told us." Seeun grumbled, tip-toeing as if she could spot you or the man anytime soon.

"Oh— Oh! Hey!—" Sunghoon halted one of the students who they knew to be your classmate. "Uhm, question, did Y/N go to school today?" Sunghoon asked, the student paused for a moment since the sudden question had startled him. "Y-Yeah, but she went out really early… Something about waiting for her boyfriend or something. Only from what I assume though."

"Boyfriend? " All said in unison as the two girls' darted their focus to your classmate. All three gave a concerned look as their brows remained furrowed at the abrupt revelation.

Sunghoon uttered a thanks as the student continued his path, still leaving all three of them in a state of shock.

"Y/N? and… boyfriend? " Tsuki recalled, still too stunned about what your classmate had said.

"What about Jake?— Oh hey! " Seeun's demeanor switches in an instant by the sight of Jake's classmate who he always walks out the school with before meeting up with them.

Seeun asked the same thing as Sunghoon, although now related to Jake.

"Oh, he's with that Y/N girl I'm sure, since I remember seeing the same girl who's waiting there to the one who hangs a lot with you guys here."

"Well… what are they doing in— Where?! " Seeun was at the brink of freaking out yet remained her decorum.

"She was waiting outside our classroom, probs waiting for Jake… That's all I know."

Seeun now uttered a thanks to him as Jake's classmate walked away.

There was a confusing silence between the air of the three friends for a few minutes. All dumbfounded by the fact about... anything, related to you and Jake.

The stray thinking lasted until Seeun spotted you and Jake talking and laughing at each other at a distance.

All of them locking their gazes to both of you with a menacing look. Which the you and Jake had caught on immediately, only locking their gazes back until the both of you stopped in front of them.

"Let me guess…" Sunghoon started, placing his fingers on his chin as if he was speculating (the obvious).

"Girlfriend, boyfriend. Boyfriend, girlfriend." He stated as he pointed to one of you respectively.

Your eyes grew wide, startled by their assumption. "Oh What?— No no no no! We're not..." You look at the man with red tinted cheeks beside you, signalling him to not feel hurt in your next words.

However, before you could continue, Jake's hand instantly pulled your shoulder closer beside him, letting out an nervous smile from you while Jake's smile stood calm and collected.

"We're not a thing!"

"Yes we are."

"Jake!"

"We'll end up being a thing anyway so might as well think in advance."

Tsuki, Seeun, and Sunghoon all widened their eyes as they held in their screams of surprise.

"Y/N!" Seeun welled up as she shakes your arm aggressively, creating fake crying noises.

"We were just gone yesterday and suddenly you two are in a relationship the next day?!" Tsuki exclaimed.

You and Jake only let out shy giggles at their reactions. It was funny to see them at this state yet you had to tell them what really happened sooner or later.

All of you proceeded to walk out of school as the three bickered about your relationship with each other. Seeun mostly, seeing the side of you which was so down for the so-called 'boyfriend'. All of their voices mixed badly inside your little friend group bubble as they all ask the same thing yet ask them so messily.

As this was happening, Jake's hand softly landed on yours as a secret invitation to hold his, which you immediately complied. Squeezing his hand in an attempt to tease him, letting out a small "ow." from the other.

"You better tell us everything, okay?" Seeun rambled. everyone simultaneously agreeing to Seeun's words and nagging you to tell them the whole story.

Well, they'll be in for a longggg walk.

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