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cult-of-husbandos · 9 months

Text

yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

5K notes · View notes

lovelyhan · 8 months

Note

Okay, you still have a spot. Great. I thought they'd be filled so, I didn't send anything lmao. Insomnia has its perks.

This is deeply self-indulgent and I'd love more Hao from you. So, hear me out, Minghao with a breeding kink. I feel like it doesn't get enough attention especially given how much that man gravitates towards babies lol. Like he and Reader visit Cheol's and see him with his new baby and, Hao's like oh, wait a minute. I think this is making me feel some type of way.

— terrified ⟢

minghao has a knack for keeping the things you tell him in mind. from your favorite brand of wine to how the idea of bearing children terrifies you—he remembers all of it. so your husband is in a bit of a crisis when he realizes that this newfound desire to start a family kind of clashes with something you trusted him to respect.

★ FEATURING; minghao x f!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 4.4k words

★ TAGS; idolverse, established relationship, hao trying (and failing) to play it cool about the wanting-to-be-a-father thing, brief discussion abt family planning, this is only a little sad bc hao has overthinkeritis, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ WARNINGS; mentions of pregnancy and childbirth but nothing too graphic

★ NOTES; i scheduled to post this when it hit exactly 12 midnight in rj's timezone just in time for her birthday :> (pls look away if i got the schedule wrong,,,) i'm not really back yet bcs this is a queued post, but happy birthday, beloved. i love you more than i can say directly, so i decided to just write a fic for you instead! hopefully, i can come back and torment you with every other seventeen member BUT cheol soon :3c

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, mating press, hao is just really feral in this yk

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz

★ MINGHAO TAGLIST; @haoxiaoba - @jeonride - @coffeestay - @hyvnae

In the height of his career as an idol, Xu Minghao filmed a certain piece of content where he was asked a normal question to which he responded with a slightly controversial answer.

"How many kids do you want in the future?"

"Oh, It's not me who'll give birth, so I can't be the one to decide."

It's a response that made waves on the Internet during the week the video was first posted—a reaction from both fans and casual netizens alike that Minghao definitely did not anticipate that he would receive when they packed up the set several months prior.

It's pretty much the logical answer, isn't it? Sure, he'd love to have kids someday, but the quantity isn't something he should decide on without his non-existent partner's input.

Minghao learns further down the road, when he finally meets and eventually gets together with you, that the number of children isn't the only thing that a couple should mutually agree on.

"I don't really want to have kids..."

You tell him this during a spontaneous date he deigned to take you out on. He just came back from a tour packed with a long list of stops and even if he should probably catch up on some sleep, he opted to have a picnic with you at the park because of how much he missed you.

Your cheeks are stuffed with a few bites of pie, thoughtfully chewing as you wait for Minghao's response to your sudden confession. If he didn't know you as well as he does, he wouldn't have sensed the waves of anxiety rolling off of you in waves—as if you're waiting for him to get mad at you for simply being honest.

Mingao heaves a quiet sigh before he pulls you into his chest—a tiny squeak caught in your throat after swallowing your food.

"Hey, that doesn't make me love you any less," he murmurs, pressing his lips on top of your head. "I know bearing children can be terrifying and painful, so I completely understand."

For a moment, your brow dips, a soft frown tugging at your lips. "I-It's not that I'm terrified... Okay, maybe a little. But—"

Minghao promptly silences your protests with a firm kiss on your lips—one that you find yourself easily melting into given the time and distance that's separated you until this moment. He smiles against your mouth, glad that you can be honest with him about things like this.

"No buts, if you don't want to have kids, that's alright," he murmurs before pulling away. "Maybe we can just get a dog. You're already close with Mingyu, aren't you?"

That makes you snicker. "You're so mean."

It's a brief exchange that Minghao doesn't really think about again for several years. After all, his career as an idol was at an all-time high. As much as he wants to settle down with you and start the next phase of his life, he's certain that he shouldn't step out of the limelight just yet.

But it doesn't take long for time to catch up with him.

One by one, his brothers are off to fulfill their mandatory service and the group's activities are at a momentary standstill. Those who were left behind go their separate ways for a while—Joshua expanding his solo promotions in the US and Jun taking up more brand sponsorships in China.

Minghao chose to stay in Seoul mostly for your sake, and the fact that this city is the only common ground between him and the rest of the boys. When Vernon and Seungkwan enlisted together, it was around the time that Seungcheol and Jeonghan came back with overgrown buzzcuts, while Joshua landed in Incheon for the first time in two years.

It was also the time when you and Minghao got married.

The event was celebrated among close friends and family with only a brief news article about the marriage of SEVENTEEN's The8 allowed by the company to circulate for a while. They did a good job at keeping things hush hush, and Minghao thinks it's only because it's been more than a decade since his debut that they're being so lenient.

But even if they weren't, nothing would stop Xu Minghao from making you his wife either way.

It takes a few more years for all thirteen of them to get back together again, but when they do, the first thing that Seungcheol does is invite everybody to his daughter's first birthday.

Minghao has met baby Suri a handful of times in the past. Seungcheol's wife visits them at the company from time to time, wheeling Suri's stroller into the practice room as her uncles all fawn over her until she's crying. For some reason, the only people the infant seems to tolerate are Jun and Seokmin.

It's pretty much the same scene during the party. Seokmin and Jun are the only ones allowed within a one-meter radius from Seungcheol's baby girl to prevent an incurable crying episode in the middle of the celebration. Soonyoung was not happy with the fact that he can't personally give Suri the little tiger plush he got for her, but Minghao thinks it's for the best.

But then, as everyone was finishing up with dinner, he saw you walk up to Seungcheol's wife with a familiar sparkle in your eyes. You're staring at Suri who's all dressed up for her party with a look of endearment—nearly gushing with how animatedly you're speaking with her mother.

Minghao doesn't think much of it. You and her have always gotten along for as long as he can remember.

What does catch him completely off-guard, however, is the fact that Suri is being handed into your arms and you let it all happen without much of a fuss.

Chan was in the middle of telling him about this martial arts move that he'd wanted to choreograph into a dance but as much as he wants to give the younger man advice, his gaze is completely glued to the sight of you with Suri in cradled against your chest.

It's one thing to see a woman holding a baby. It's another to see his wife do the same thing.

"Hao, look!" You quickly call him over when you catch his eyes in the crowd. "Suri thinks I'm worthy! It's been five minutes since her mom handed her over and she's still not crying."

The sight is so adorable that Minghao abruptly excuses himself from his conversation with Chan to rush towards you with clipped strides. His heart thunders inside his chest as you visibly dote on Seungcheol's daughter, and he isn't sure if he wants to give the feeling a name.

It eventually fades into a barely there throb in his chest when he drives back home for the evening. You quickly fill the silence with your attempts at looking at some properties in this newly opened residential area near the freeway and as always, your husband lends a willing ear.

"It's a little far from your company building, but it's much more spacious than our apartment right now," you chuckle, face alight with the glow of your screen as you scroll through the property's details on your phone.

Minghao hums before pulling over at a red light. "Hm? Isn't our place alright as it is? Why would we need the extra space?"

He half-expected you to answer with something along the lines of, so I can have more space to keep my book collection in or so you can have enough room to practice at home if you want to.

But all you do is let out an uneasy laugh, locking your phone before depositing it in the cupholder on the middle console.

"Y-Yeah, you're right. That was a bit silly of me."

The next time Minghao unwittingly makes the connection with you and the prospect of having kids is when Seungkwan's nephews are in Seoul for a couple of weeks.

While he and his sister are off to run errands every now and again, they typically ask Jun to watch over the kids because out of all the members, he's definitely the only one who can be trusted around children. Even more than those who are actual fathers.

But it just so happens that Jun is all the way in Shanghai to shoot for a historical drama, and for some reason, Seungkwan thought it would be a good idea to drop his nephews off at Minghao's doorstep.

"You're pretty decent with kids and your wife can take care of anything," Seungkwan praises while he ushers four year-old Hanjun into the room and eight month-old Jiren into your arms. "We'll be back for them after lunch!"

It's just as Seungkwan said though: Minghao is pretty decent with kids and you can take care of anything.

While waiting for lunch to cook in the kitchen, you both do your part in entertaining the children—Minghao pointing out different shapes and animals in the picture book from Hanjun's backpack while you quietly feed Jiren the baby formula that Seungkwan's sister prepared in advance.

So distracted with the sight of your soft gaze transfixed on the baby in your arms, Minghao barely notices it when the soup he's prepared starts to overflow from the pot. You scold him for being so distracted before he shuffles into the kitchen with his tail between his legs.

As he salvages what's left of the soup, Minghao tries to pull himself together. Sure, it's been a few years since you two tied the knot, but you made it clear years ago that children wasn't on the table when it comes to the two of you.

It's something that you both agreed on even before marriage, and Minghao isn't about to break your trust by saying he suddenly wants kids all because seeing them in your arms makes his brain short-circuit. He has more tact than that.

"Is it just me or are you acting a little weird?"

For some reason, you choose later that evening to corner him in the quiet of your bedroom. Minghao was just getting ready to sleep when you turned to face him with a frown.

"Weird how?" he wonders, praying that you wouldn't single him out like you probably will.

"I don't know, you were looking at me funny when I was giving Jiren his formula," you point out. "You only do that when you want something from me."

Your words make him sigh. Of course his wife would catch onto every nuance of his actions—even from his stare alone.

"And what do you think it is that I want?"

"Xu Minghao, we're already married. Cut the games and just tell me what's on your mind."

God, he really couldn't love you any more than he does now.

It takes several minutes, but you and your husband eventually migrate to the living room—cups of hot chocolate in hand as you patiently wait for Minghao to open up about something he's been keeping to himself for a while now.

He's rightfully nervous—hands clammy around the ceramic of the mug that matches yours. It's Game of Thrones-themed with a dragon's neck acting as a handle. You kept insisting at the souvenir shop that its selling point was the unique design, but Minghao was pretty sure you were excited by the fact that the printed text changes color depending on the drink's temperature.

With that memory suddenly drifting into his mind, the tension ebbs from his shoulders. Though he tends to forget, you're the last person who'll condemn him for what he's about to say to you.

"I've been thinking of starting a family with you," he admits—hitting his point straight to the roots. "But... I always brushed it aside because I know how you feel about kids. I don't want to force you into something you don't want."

It's in times like this where silence is more deafening than actual noise. It rings in Minghao's ears as you watch the steam rise from your mug and your husband lets himself stew in his anticipation, wondering how you'll choose to respond to his honesty.

Will you laugh at him? Will you be angry with him? It's a subject that the two of you rarely broach with each other, so he isn't quite sure how to handle whatever reaction you'll grace him with.

What Minghao never would've expected, however, is for you to crack him a relieved smile.

"Me? I thought you didn't want kids because having one would be detrimental to your career," you chuckle, taking the first few sips from your hot chocolate. "And you always kinda shrugged it off whenever I tried to ease the topic into the conversation."

"I did?" Your husband scowls. "When did I do that?"

"After Suri's birthday party? When I was showing you a couple of new houses?"

Oh. Oh.

"Shit," Minghao mutters, embarrassed. "I almost forgot about that. I'm sorry, love. It didn't occur to me because you said that you didn't want to have kids—"

"One time," you interject with a groan. "That was one time, Hao. God, can't a woman change her mind about wanting kids with her husband?"

He blinks. "But you said you'd be terrified."

"No, you said I'd be terrified. As an educated guess and to some extent, you're right. But it's not the having-a-kid part or the childbirth part that terrifies me, Hao." You let yourself breathe for a couple of seconds and it comes out shaky. Minghao has to resist the urge to reach out to embrace you.

"What terrifies me is becoming a mother."

The silence of the living room thickens when you say the words and Minghao feels his chest flutter with that same feeling from the first time he saw you cradling Seungcheol's daughter in your arms. Despite the questions swimming inside his head, your husband keeps his silence and lets you continue.

"Like, yeah, the pregnancy is going to be hell and god knows whether I'll even be alive after giving birth, but..." You hesitate, refusing to meet Minghao's eyes for reasons that elude him.

"Raising a child so they would grow up to become a good person is even more daunting to me... What if I accidentally teach them something wrong? What if they end up hating me because I can't keep up with whatever trends kids would come up with in a few years? What if they love you more than they love me?"

Minghao laughs airily. "Is that last part really a necessary measure?"

"It is," you insist before breathing out a laugh of your own. "Urgh, you get the point! It's just that... I'm not against having kids, but the responsibility that comes with raising one overwhelms me whenever I think about it."

"You know you're not in it alone, right? I'm your husband. Of course I'll be here to support you however I can," Minghao sighs before finishing the rest of his drink. "Whether you want kids or not, I'll go with either choice because I want what you want, yeah?"

"Yeah. I do know that. I think I've always known, but at the same time, I didn't want to tie you down," you murmur, tracing the handle of your mug with a small pout. "If we have a kid together, they might take up the time meant for your schedules. I never want to burden you like that..."

Your husband sets down his mug on the coffee table, carding his fingers through his hair with a disbelieving sigh. You were starting to fear that you might've annoyed him by accident, but when Minghao leans closer so that your eyes are leveled, you realize that is far from the case.

"Baby, our wedding rings are literally tattoos," he reminds you while reaching for your hand—pressing the inked fingers together. "I'm as tied down as I can be and you've never heard a peep out of me after all this time, yeah? So don't you ever think you or our future kids would be burdens to me."

Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Kids? Plural?"

"Hey, like I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, you want what I want," you interrupt with a roll of your eyes. "I get it Hao, you're a gentleman. But what if I told you I want you to fuck me on this couch right now and give me your kids?"

The wording is so crass that it could only be seen as a joke, except the reaction it incites from Minghao is leagues more intense than a mere joke would. The mental image injects a rush of corrosive want straight into his bloodstream and Minghao swears it makes him a little lightheaded.

Your husband lets out a shuddering sigh. quickly lunging after you to pluck the mug out of your grasp and safely place it on top of the coffee table. When you look up at him so prettily as he cages you on the couch, the sight makes his cock twitch with anticipation.

"Then I want that, too."

Logically speaking, you and Minghao can't just flip the switch and go into full babymaking mode after a heartfelt conversation and a bunch of impulsive decisions.

For one, you were still on birth control. It would take some time to wean yourself off it and you'd have to ask your doctor if it was safe to stop taking the pills at this point in your life.

Next was that Minghao and the rest of the guys are going to be preoccupied with their latest album—one where all thirteen men are back together after years of being separated. It'll go on for a couple of months and maybe a year if he's going to take their tour schedules into account.

And because he doesn't want to be absent in any milestone during your hypothesized child's life, you and your husband mutually decided not to actively try for a kid just yet.

But that doesn't mean you can't pretend.

"Fuck, baby, your cunt's gripping me so tight," Minghao groans, nearly hissing as he slides his cock against the velvety heat of your walls. "You want my load in you, pretty? You want to me to pump you full until it's dripping out of your pretty pussy?"

With coherence having long left your mind, you arch your back even higher as your husband continues to plough you into the mattress. "Y-Yes, yes yes! Hao, feels s-so fucking good!"

He chortles quietly and even with your cheek pressed against the sheets, you can still picture the smirk plastered on his face. "Pretty baby's in love with my cock. You just can't get enough of me, can you?"

"More," you whimper, the muscles of your pussy tightening around his length as he plunges in and out of your sopping entrance. "W-Want more, Hao. Need you to fuck me harder..."

Your husband is quick to comply with your wishes, gathering your hair with one hand while keeping your hips in place with the other. Minghao slams his hips brutally against yours, making stars dance in the seams of your vision as the head of his fat cock bullies its way into your leaking hole.

He's so deep, you can feel him prying your cervix open with a promise that you'll be filled to the brim if you behave tonight. And with all those years of being a professional dancer under his belt, it's no surprise that he's got enough stamina to wreck you more times than you can handle.

The first orgasm blindsides you completely. He'd just been whispering both sweet and filthy nothings into your ear when it washes over you like a tidal wave—inevitable, inescapable.

(Doing so fucking good for me, love. Taking my cock like a good, good wife. You'll take my cum just as well, won't you? Keep it inside so it'll take and you'll be swollen with my child. Then everybody will know you're mine.)

The second time it happens is mere seconds after Minghao's own orgasm. His thrusts have started to lose their practiced cadence and even if you've been in this situation countless times before, the euphoria that sings in your veins makes it feel like the first time all over again.

Minghao's cock twitches before his cum spurts in thick ropes inside your tight cunt—filling you with a warm sensation that has you biting down his neck to stifle your moans. The motion of his hips slows to a crawl as Minghao feels you clamp down on his length. Your pussy gushes around him with a delicious grip that brings him dangerously close to another orgasm with how good you feel around him.

"Fuck, baby," he swears, voice still hoarse with need despite the fact that he's fucking you into overflowing. "I love you. There's no one else I'd want to have a family with."

"T-There better not be," you say cheekily before Minghao is flipping you around so that you're lying on your back. The sensation of his cum dripping out of your ruined pussy makes your skin tingle with excitement, and the fact that his ravenous gaze is trained on your body isn't lost on you.

"Be a good wife for me and hold your thighs up," he whispers lowly and it takes you mere seconds to comply. "That's my girl."

You preen at his praise—no matter how pathetic it would make you seem. After all, if there's anyone who get reduced you into a cockdrunk mess, it's most certainly your husband.

Minghao doesn't waste any more time, he pumps his cock into full hardness for a few moments—refractory period be damned—before gliding the head of his cock against your slit. Your thighs twitch every time be brushes against your clit, making you cry out with desperation as he gloats at your misery.

"Minghao," you beg, trying your best to hold your thighs up just like he asked all while he's taking his sweet time admiring your pussy. "Fuck me more. Want you to fill me up even more."

"Needy little thing," he chuckles. "You want my kids that badly? If I fuck you too much, you might actually get pregnant, love."

"Don't care," you practically sob. "I want it. I want you. All of you—even your kids."

Fuck. He really, really fucking loves you.

Minghao needs little encouragement after that, gripping his cock tightly as he guides himself back inside you.

The new position makes it easier for your husband to pound into you—the weight of his thrusts pressing you into the bed with enough intensity to make the wooden enforcements of your bed groan from the effort he's exerting. He splits you open on his cock, spreading your folded thighs as far as he can as he drills inside of you with the promise of another load.

"So pretty and pliant for me," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your nose all while the squelch of your cunt with each pass of his cock echoes in the bedroom. "My perfect wife. You'll let me breed this pussy once all's said and done, won't you?"

You nod all too eagerly. "Yes, Hao! I'll let you use my pussy however you want. Just please make me come again!"

"So demanding," your husband sighs with a wicked smile as one of his hands trails between your legs. "Hold those thighs nice and open for me, love. You'll feel even better soon."

"W-Wait, I—"

Your protests quickly melt into a hiss of pleasure when Minghao applies ample pressure on your clit—lathering his fingers with your slick before tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub.

He knows you so well, been with you for so long, that Minghao already knows the ins and outs of your body. Your husband claims that making you come undone with his own fingers is a practiced art and that he'll never forget about it until the day he does.

So it's no surprise how quickly Minghao manages to make you unravel at the seams when he couples his intense thrusts with the added stimulus to your clit. You're creaming around his cock in no time—muffling your cries in the crook of your lover's neck as he fucks into you with the intention of filling you up even more.

"I love you," Minghao rasps as he tucks your head beneath his chin, pinpointing the height of his own pleasure. "I'll want no one else but you, baby. No one."

Shakily, through a haze of delirium, you manage to say, "I-I love you too, Hao. I'll always be yours as long as—f-fuck—you'll always be mine."

You twitch violently beneath the weight of Minghao's body and the sight of you so fucked dumb on his cock eventually pushes him over the edge. Your husband comes with a sharp breath, his white hot cum gushing into your pussy until it drips onto the sheets.

It's only when you've come down from that post-coital high that you realize Minghao is looking at you as if you hung up all the stars in the sky. You respond with a weak smack against his chest.

"Don't look at me like that," you grumble weakly. "I might think you're in love with me."

"Y/N, we're already married."

"I don't see how that's a problem."

As Minghao does the honors of cleaning you up after roughing you up all evening, you quickly realize that, really, there's no reason to be terrified at all.

Not when your husband will be by your side every step of the way.

⟢ end notes: i wrote this in a haze so if there are any technical writing errors, i implore you to just ignore them for my sake <3 happy birthday again to my soulmate, rj! i hope you enjoy your day to the fullest and i also hope you like this gift i wrote for you hehe ^\\\^ like hao to the reader, i'll always be w you every step of the way (i'm just a lil busy rn, so i hope you forgive me !!)

#seventeen smut #the8 smut #minghao smut #svthub #minghao x reader #seventeen fanfic #the8 x reader #full length fic 📚#lovelyhan #💭 request #💘 mutuals #rj 🍷#q: i always need queue 🐇

2K notes · View notes

captainfern · 1 year

Note

heyyy, how are youu? as I see your request are open so here I am again. I absolutely loved “About A Girl” it was perfect and exactly what I imagined so i’m back for seconds 😋

hear me out 🫵🤠✋ what if after a long mission the team gets a few weeks off, reader goes on a date, Price sees and gets jealous and since reader’s date is a bit of a jackass and gets reader uncomfortable Price intervenes and takes reader. One thing lead to the other 😉😏 and there’s a little of everything, heavy on the degrading praise and breeding kink from Price cuz he’s always wanted to put a baby in reader since he first saw her :((

(as you can tell i’m a big Price enthusiast 😈)

Something In The Way

Captain John Price x fem!reader

["Something In The Way" by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - read the request. price saves you from a bad date, then you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.4k • warnings - fem!reader, possessive!price, unprotected piv, breeding kink [you're welcome], praise, degradation [slut used like once], oral [f!receiving], lowkey dumbification, implied age gap but that isn't a problem for us obviously 🙏, this is basically a hybrid of my fics breed and lithium lol, strong language, an absolute arsehole of a bad date i'm sorry in advance

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When you get a few weeks away from work, sometimes you don't know what to do with yourself.

Acting like a proper civilian was kind of hard when you'd just spent the last few months eradicating a terrorist threat on the opposite side of the world. But, hey, you weren't complaining that Laswell awarded you with a break.

One of the first things you did was catch up with your friends. You all went out to dinner together, eventually turning towards the bar down the street. Here, you met this guy– he was really nice, and quite good looking as well– and you gave him your number.

A week later, brought you to today.

The guy from the bar, Lucas, had taken you out on a date. You were really excited– your friends hyping you up via FaceTime as you got ready a few hours prior. You took a taxi and met him at this really nice restaurant, where he greeted you at the door with a warm smile, and took your arm, leading you inside.

An hour and a half into the date, you wondered just how drunk you were when you gave this guy your number.

"So, you're in the military?" Lucas asked as the two of you finished up desert.

"I am, yeah." You replied. He'd asked that question twice already, but you were giving him the benefit of the doubt.

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, I never thought that women could join the military."

You paused, spoonful of crème brûlée halfway to your mouth. You lowered it. "What?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's such a masculine job when you think about it," Lucas said, swirling his spoon in the air while he talked. "I'm guessing you work with a lot of guys?"

"Yeah? Why should that matter?" You replied, placing your spoon beside your bowl. Your appetite for desert was suddenly gone.

He shrugged. "Just wondering. I bet you're popular on base, huh? I mean, if I worked with you, I'd definitely hit."

You scoffed. "You'd hit? Real mature, Lucas."

"Hey, don't get offended, Jesus," Lucas said defensively. "Surely you see where I'm coming from? It's not like I'm saying you're a fucking barracks bunny or anything like that–"

"Oh my god," you said, getting to your feet and snatching your purse off the table. The waitress arrived with the cheque, but paused when she saw what was unfolding before her. "Thanks for dinner, Lucas, but you just ruined it."

He got to his feet as you breezed past him, offering the waitress an apologetic smile. She returned it, and was quick to thrust the cheque into Lucas' hands, telling him he must pay before he leaves. You hid a grateful smile as you hurried out of the restaurant and into the night.

Outside, you felt yourself burning with rage. Who the hell does that fucker think he is talking like that? Cheeks burning, you pulled out your phone and attempted to dial one of your friends for an emergency pick-up.

"Hey, wait!" Lucas appeared behind you, walking briskly up to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "What'd I do?"

You shrugged his hand off your shoulder with a scowl. "I don't appreciate being spoken to like that, thank you very much." It was sarcastic and had a blunt bite. Good.

He shook his head, sneering. "Oh, so you're offended? What a surprise, a woman getting emotional over a joke."

You really wanted to slap him. Smack your hand across his stupid fucking face. But, you didn't. You bit your tongue, looking down at your phone and pulling up one of your friends contact.

"I just wanted to fuck you, anyway," Lucas suddenly said, making your eyes snap up to his. "Waste of my time, clearly."

You gaped at him. "Are you fucking serious? You're an absolute arsehole."

He took a step closer to you. "What? Isn't that what you let the guys at your base do? Spreading your legs–"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if you want to leave with your teeth still intact." A deep voice behind you, and you turned to see your captain walking towards you, cigar between his thumb and forefinger.

Lucas scoffed, giving Price a once-over. "What're you gonna do about it, old man? This doesn't concern you."

Price's other hand was in the pocket of his jacket. He moved his arm to the side, bringing his jacket away from his body, revealing a pistol strapped to a holster on his hip. He was quick to hide it beneath his jacket again as he stepped up beside you, arm brushing yours.

Lucas paled, backing away slowly. "Jesus, okay, fine, I'm leaving."

"Hold on," Price grumbled, beckoning Lucas forward with a flick of his cigar. An ember dislodged, sparkling through the air as Lucas took a hesitant step forward. "Delete her number."

Lucas pulled out his phone and quickly deleted your number. He showed it to Price, who simply exhaled a thick cloud of smoke into his face. Lucas coughed, eyes no doubt stinging, as Price leaned forward, speaking right next to his ear. You stood patiently behind him, not sure what he was even saying.

"If you ever talk to her like that again, or if you ever try to even contact her again, I'll fucking kill you. D'you understand?" Price uttered.

Lucas nodded quickly. Then, he yelped, cursing in pain, springing backwards and hurrying away without even looking at you. You saw him clutching his right hand, a circular burn mark branded on top. You cast a glimpse at Price, cigar still held tightly between his fingers. You smiled.

Price watched Lucas disappear before he turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You alright, rookie?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Price scanned your face. "You sure? He was a right cunt, wasn't he?"

You chuckled. "Yeah, he was."

Price took a drag from his cigar. "What's a pretty girl like you going on a date with a fuckwit like him for?"

You shrugged. "I think I was way to drunk when I gave him my number."

Price smiled at you, the air between you hazy with smoke. He looked at your hands, where you were fidgeting with your phone.

"You need a ride home, rookie?" He asked.

You shook your head. "Oh, no, I'm okay. I was just about to call my friend to pick me up. They should be able to come and get me."

Price just shook his head softly, taking another drag from his cigar, now near the end of its life. He dropped the crumbling remnants into the gutter, shifting his foot so he could crush it further into the pavement with the heel of his shoe.

"I'll take you home."

You shook your head. "No, honestly–"

"Come on, rookie," Price was already walking away from you. "Captain's orders."

•º•

In his car, you don't know what came over you. One moment, you were telling him about how the date went and the next, you were sobbing into your hands in his passenger seat.

You apologised profusely once you had calmed down, and he offered words of support from the drivers seat.

"I'm sorry, I just feel so fucking stupid that I let him talk to me like that." You said, tears in your eyes drying.

"You're not stupid, love. It's normal to feel like this."

You sniffed, hugging your arms around yourself. Price glanced at you.

"Why don't you come to mine for a bit? Don't want you being alone when you're feeling like this, rookie. You can have a drink if you want."

Slowly, you nodded. "That would be nice. Thanks, cap."

"John's fine, love."

You made a face. "No way. It feels weird calling you anything other than captain or Price."

Price laughed. "But John's my name!"

"I know," you laughed too. "But, still, it just feels strange. Like when I called Ghost Simon that one time, and Soap went absolutely apeshit at me."

"Alright, fair enough," Price smiled. "You can call me Price, then."

"Thank you." You remarked, and Price shot you a smile. He was glad you were smiling now.

•º•

"Damn, your house is so nice," you said as he let you through the front door, locking it behind you. "What the hell are you getting paid to afford something like this?"

"Not that much more than you, love." Price said, taking off his jacket and hanging it on a hook near the door.

"Bullshit." You laughed, kicking off your heels and following him into the kitchen.

He rounded the kitchen island, opening a top cabinet and extracting two glasses. Then, he gestured to the array of alcohol bottles lines up along a nearby shelf. You selected one that you were familiar with, and he poured you a glass. You thanked him as he slid it across the island to you as you sat down on a barstool. He poured himself a bit of scotch.

"Feeling better?" Price asked, taking a sip of his drink.

You nodded. "Yeah, thanks, Price."

"No worries, love. Couldn't let that piece of shit talk to my rookie like that, eh?" He took a long sip.

My rookie.

Your stomach fluttered with butterflies for a moment as you took a sip of your drink, trying to calm them. He watched you with kind eyes.

"What's going through that mind of yours?" He asked, pushing his glass aside and holding the edge of the kitchen island, leaning against it.

"S'nothing." You grumbled around the rim of your glass.

"Come on, rookie."

You sighed. Embarrassed, almost. Cheeks heating up, you averted your eyes. "Just, I dunno, thankful."

"Don't worry about it," he smiled. "Now... are you sure that's all that's on your mind?"

You should have nodded. Should have told him that, yeah, I'm fine, thank you. But, you gently moved your glass aside, managing to look at him. He cocked his head, waiting for you to speak.

"I just..." You were past the point of embarrassment now. "I'm just really thankful. You didn't have to bring me here. I really appreciate it."

Price watched you closely. He hadn't touched his drink for a while. He wasn't even smiling anymore. He knew.

For fuck sake, you thought, nervousness building in your stomach. Of course he fucking knew. And, to top it all off, the butterflies were back. Great.

"I want to, um, thank you... properly."

"Thank me?" Price uttered. "Rookie..."

You cringed as he got up and began to approach you. This is it, you thought, biting your lip. He was going to fucking berate you for being so inappropriate. I mean, come on– he's your fucking boss for crying out loud! What the hell were you doing?!

"Shit, Price, I am so sorry. This is so inappropriate," you rambled. "I should never have put you in this position–"

He stood behind you now. You were still sat on the barstool, but could feel the warmth of his chest on your back. He leaned down, chest brushing your shoulder blades, lips by your ear.

"Stand up." He whispered.

Here we go, you thought as you gingerly got to your feet. He was going to kick you off the task force.

He nudged the barstool away with his foot and it skidded along the hardwood floor. You jolted at the noise, before his front was pushing into your back and suddenly– really fucking suddenly– he was bending you over the kitchen island.

"You said you want to thank me? This what you had in mind, rookie?" He asked, low in your ear. "Wanted to thank me like this?"

You were speechless. But, you nodded. The butterflies in your stomach were raving now, and you felt your body beginning to heat up as he pressed himself against you: chest and abdomen hard against the curve of your back, his pelvis flush to your arse.

"Yeah? Naughty fucking girl. Wants to get fucked by her captain?" He had a firm grip on your hips, holding you to him. "Naughty fucking girl." He repeated in a growl, shoving your dress up your hips.

It was all happening so fast that half the time you forgot to breath. Your dress was hiked up your legs, bunched around your waist as Price took a step back to admire your backside. He hooked a finger around the waistband of your underwear and let it go with a snap. You jolted, still pressed to the cool marble of the island.

"These are nice," he commented, and you could hear his smile. "Planning on getting fucked, eh?"

You shook your head. "No."

"Fucking liar." He said, grabbing your underwear again. This time, he ripped them down your legs and you felt them drop around your ankles.

You knew you were turned on, but when the cool air of his kitchen hit your bare core, you felt like squealing. Your arousal was dripping down from between your legs, running down your thighs now, much to Price's delight. He ran a finger up your thigh, collecting the fluid, and you shivered.

"Dripping..." he drawled, smearing your arousal across your inner-thighs. "Needy slut you are, rookie, aren't you? Dripping for your captain."

You whined at him as he turned you around, your lower back slamming into the edge of the table. You wondered what the hell he was doing, but that was answered when he kneeled in front of you, taking hold of your thighs and lifting you like you weighed nothing. He propped your thighs over his shoulders as you leaned against the island, arms spread along the marble. You underwear was flung off of your ankle and vanished somewhere in the room.

He blew a puff of air onto your soaked core, and you felt your body begin to burn again at the way he had your body reacting. With a satisfied smirk, he looked up at you, beard brushing the soft skin of your thighs.

"Can I?" He asked. Why was he even asking?!

You nodded desperately, angling your hips forward and shoving your cunt closer to his mouth. He chuckled and allowed you to do so– pressing his lips to your clit and drawing it into his mouth. You tossed your head back with a moan, hand reaching down to push his head further into you.

He pulled back, though, causing you to whine.

"Hands on the fucking counter." He snapped, before drawing your clit into his mouth and sucking harshly.

You choked on a sob and forced your arms away. You felt his teeth skim your nerves and you bucked your hips, just as he moved away and licked a fat stripe down your folds. He did that a couple of times, making you a whiney mess above him, before he shoved his tongue into your leaking hole.

"Mmm-mygod," you mumbled around a whimper as he moved his tongue in and out of you. You could hear him doing it– lewd squelching filling his quiet kitchen, matching the tempo of your whines and whimpers. "Price, feels so good."

Price hummed against you, vibrations making you spasm around his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, clamping them harder around his head, resting firm on his shoulders. His nose nudged your clit repeatedly as he moved his tongue in and out of your cunt, and it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

It didn't take long at all before you were about to cum. Legs quivering against his strong shoulders, hips bucking desperately to meet the movements of his tongue, lower stomach tightening. You moaned loudly. "Price, please."

He didn't change his pace or movements, letting you pulse around his tongue as you came. He groaned into your cunt as your arousal flooded across his tongue, dripping out the sides of his mouth and running down his face. Your legs felt numb by the time he retreated with one last kiss to your swollen clit. You whined.

"Knew it'd taste this fucking good," Price mumbled to himself, but his words made your stomach flip. "Knew this cunt'd be so fucking good."

He carefully lowered you to the ground, your legs shaking. You sighed, bracing yourself against the island as he got to his feet, face dripping. Catching sight of beads of moisture rolling through his facial hair, you closed your eyes and whined, almost ashamed. But he didn't let you– he grabbed your face in one large hand and slammed his mouth onto yours. You could taste yourself, making you mewl, and you could feel your arousal now smearing across your face from his beard.

"Just so wet," He whispered against your mouth, tongue smoothing against yours before he pulled away. "Naughty girl you are, rookie. Letting your captain do that."

You hummed at him in response, a moan trapped in your throat. He shushed you, making quick work of pulling your dress over your head and discarding it on a nearby barstool. He then unclasped your bra, immediately drawing one of your nipples into his mouth with a nip of his teeth. You keened into him with a whisper of his name as he switched to the other, skimming his hands across them, massaging the soft flesh.

It ended all too soon, unfortunately, as a moment later he was spinning you around and bending you over the kitchen island. He was still dressed, but you heard the unbuckling of a belt and the sound of a zipper. After a moment, he placed his belt on the island in front of you, and you saw his pistol sitting in his holster. You whimpered when you looked at it.

Price chuckled darkly behind you, one hand on your hip as the other shimmied his pants down. "You liked when I threatened that fuckhead, didn't you, love? S'that what got this slutty cunt all wet?"

You nodded, skin hot.

Price tutted you softly. "Naughty, naughty girl, rookie."

"Only for you." You whimpered, and Price paused his movements behind you.

Then, he groaned, and you felt his warm cock press against the curve of your arse as he bent his body over you, draping his toned abdomen against your spine.

"Yeah, that's fucking right," he growled into your shoulder, pressing a kiss there. "S'only for me."

That definitely awakened something inside of him.

Leaning back, he grabbed hold of his painfully hard cock and began to drag the ruddy tip along your glistening folds. You moaned into your arm, resting them beneath your head. He grunted under his breath, snagging the head of his cock against your entrance, a schlick sounding through the kitchen.

"Fuck, listen to this pretty cunt talk," Price groaned, repeating the action with his cock and earning the same wet sound. "S'just begging to be stuffed full. Begging to be fucked."

You were burning up beneath him. You wiggled your hips, pressing your arse further onto him, and he gripped your hip tighter.

"Be patient." Price warned, drumming his fingers on the bone of your hip.

You didn't listen.

You whined, backing your arse against him. "Price, sir, I need it."

"You need it? Aw, my poor girl. My poor, needy girl, so desperate for cock," Price mused, running his cock along your folds again. "What do you say?"

"Please–"

"Please, what?"

"Please, sir, fuck, need you so bad." You sobbed.

"That's what I thought," Price uttered, pushing the fat head of his cock into your drooling cunt, stretching you out. "Needed this cock so bad, I know. S'all right, love."

He pushed deeper and deeper into you; your silken walls clinging to him, constricting his cock and making him sigh deeply into the skin of your back. Eventually, he was nestled as far as he could go with his hips flush to your arse and the head of his cock kissing the entrance of your cervix. You mewled quietly as he placed a few wet kisses along the column of your spine, hands massaging your hips.

"There we go, love, taking me so well." He whispered as he pulled out of you, tip resting at your entrance.

You were about to complain at the sudden emptiness, but he was thrusting all the way back in before you could get the words out. You choked on your sentence, gasping, as he slammed into you and began a pace that left you slumping against the kitchen island like a rag-doll, whimpering.

"I know, I know, just feels so good, doesn't it, darling?" Price cooed in response to your desperate whimpers. "Your captain's cock feels so good in this pretty cunt, doesn't it?"

Deliriously, you nodded. "Y-yeah, feels s-so good, sir."

He grunted in reply, slamming into you over and over and relishing in the way your walls sucked him in. He wanted to mould you to the shape of his cock. Ruin you for any other man. He wanted you to want his cock, and his alone. He wanted you.

He moaned deeply. "This cunt was made for me, love. Perfect, squeezing my cock so good. S'mine now, love. All mine."

You couldn't argue with that.

You'd never have thought that your captain could act like this. Animalistic in the way he rutted into your dripping heat, heavy cock dragging against your walls, head kissing the entrance of your womb. His hands were tight on the curve of your hips, groping and kneading the flesh as he pulled you onto his cock repeatedly, matching the gruelling pace of his thrusts.

He'd rendered you a babbling, whimpering mess– whining softly, calling his name, drunk off his cock. You let your mouth drop open, a languid string of moans falling from between your lips.

"Sir, m'gonna cum." You managed to say between airy moans, and he huffed in response, skimming his teeth down your spine.

"Cum for me, darling. Cum 'round my cock."

You did, with a loud moan that his neighbours may or may not have heard through the silence of the night. You spasmed around his cock, arousal flooding out of you and painting his lower abdomen and thighs in slick. You tightened around him and he groaned, sucking marks down the expanse of your arched back.

He redoubled his pace as you became pliant beneath him. You let him use you– fucking into your soaked cunt like he was starving for it. He was grunting and groaning under his breath, mouth still sucking bruises along your back, before he dragged his lips up your spine and rested his head at your shoulder.

His thrusts were losing rhythm as he neared his release. The movement of his hips was yearning– his need to cum stringing him rigid as he pounded into your tight cunt.

He was losing his absolute mind.

"Fuck, such a good cunt, so tight n' wet," he groaned into your shoulder. "Better than I imagined. So much better."

The needy rutting of his hips and the depth in which his cock reached inside of you was quickly pushing you towards another orgasm. It built fiery hot in your abdomen as he babbled into your shoulder, losing control of the dominant persona he had began with.

"Huh-hngh-fuck, yeah, that's it, darling, that's it, taking my cock so fucking well," his words were stringing together. "M'gonna cum inside, okay? Wanna fuck you full of me."

You arched further for him, taking him deeper. "Please, sir, cum inside–"

Your orgasm crashed over you and you whimpered his name, body shuddering, wetness dribbling down your legs. Price cursed quietly as you gushed around his cock again.

"Always wanted to fill this cunt. Wanted to– ah, fuck– wanted to breed you nice and full, rookie. Make it– hngh– take. Make you all pretty and fat with my kid–"

That made your cunt squeeze him extra tight, a new wave of arousal pooling between your thighs. In response, he groaned low into the crook of your neck and thrust his hips so hard you felt winded against the marble. The head of his cock nudged the plug of your womb as he came, a lot. Endless strings of warmth, filling you, overflowing onto the hardwood floor. He whined your name into your neck, sucking one last lazy bruise to the smooth skin.

"Good girl," he whispered, angling his head to kiss the juncture of your jaw. "My good girl."

•º•

"Morning, rookie, how was your break?" Soap asked as you walked into the barracks three weeks later.

You shrugged. "Not bad, actually. How about you?"

"It was good," he smiled. "Ghost n' I went up to Inverness. Beautiful part of the country, that is."

You smiled back at him. "That's really cool! Have you got any photos?"

He beamed as you dumped your bag onto the couch and slumped down next to it. Soap took a seat beside you, taking his phone out of his pocket. He opened his camera roll just as Price strolled into the room, hat on his head.

"Morning, Soap. Keeping well?" He asked, approaching the back of the couch and ruffling Soap's mohawk. "Need a bloody haircut."

Soap battered his captain's hand away, smiling. Then, Price was looming over you.

"Rookie." He said simply.

"Captain." You replied.

"Good break?" He asked.

Visions of the entire three weeks flashed through your mind– you and Price in his kitchen, his living-room, his bedroom, his bathroom, his pool, his fucking car. You were hardly ever home during those three weeks.

"It was a great break," you battered your eyelashes at him. "You?"

He pat your head gently, walking away. "The best break I've had in a while."

When he left, you followed his figure with your eyes. After a moment, you turned back to Soap, who was giving you a peculiar look.

You furrowed your brows. "What?"

"That was weird."

"What? No it wasn't"

"Mhm," he wiggled his eyebrows. "You have something to share, rookie?"

You rolled your eyes. "Not particularly."

"Oh, come on, lass."

"Nothing to share," you shrugged. "Unless you want to share the great time you had with Ghost in Inverness?"

You gave him a pointed look. He looked away, cheeks pink.

"Fuck off."

"Love you too, Soap."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #captain price smut #fem reader #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain’snirvana

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janaispunk · 2 months

Text

no one has to know what we do

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.

word count: 4.4k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.

It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.

Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.

It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.

You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.

But David — David is refreshing.

He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.

You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.

He’s not expecting you to reach out.

Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.

Because all he can think about is seeing you again.

It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.

Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.

He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.

Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.

And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.

He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.

Seconds after the first, another text comes through:

[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone

Fuck. Fuck.

His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.

He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.

The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.

His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.

“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.

He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”

“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.

Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.

“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”

His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.

“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.

“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”

You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.

“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.

You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.

“You don’t like me?”

He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.

The call disconnects with a beep.

You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.

His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.

“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.

“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”

Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.

“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.

“Probably not.”

You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.

When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.

Have fun last night?

From David, sent five minutes ago.

You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.

Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.

Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.

i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you

His reply comes almost instantly.

Who said you bothered me?

You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.

Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.

It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.

When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.

You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.

He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.

Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.

You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.

He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.

You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.

You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.

You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.

After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.

But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.

On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.

Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.

He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.

“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”

It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.

He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.

He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.

The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?

“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”

He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.

“Yes. Come on.”

He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.

He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.

So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.

You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.

He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.

He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.

You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.

“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.

“You want me to take care of you?”

You nod.

“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”

Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.

He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.

“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.

Slap.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.

Slap.

“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”

You gasp.

Slap.

“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”

It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.

He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.

He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.

You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.

No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.

He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.

He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.

When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.

“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”

He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.

You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.

One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.

“I thought I told you no begging.”

You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”

He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.

“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”

You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.

He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.

It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.

He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.

Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.

“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”

You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.

He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.

You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.

Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.

He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.

“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”

He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.

You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.

“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.

Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.

The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.

When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.

It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.

He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.

Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.

[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.

Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.

It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.

Maybe just one more time.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#janas fics #fic: wildest dreams #dave york x reader #dave york #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedrostories

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 4 months

Text

Wingspan

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Minors denied. Don't want me to write the list of all shameful things I wrote under the cut

Because I've spent whole week with sick 2 years old child, managed to get sick as well and I'm deprived of Azriel because last two months I'm writing only Heal me and as soon as he appeared on scene, this invaded my mind.. Honestly too many reasons to write something silly ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

"Okay, guys. You know why we are here," I started. "At first I'd like to thank you that you voluntarily signed up as subjects for this research."

"We compare our pricks whole life. It's our pleasure that somebody finally took it seriously and wants to write a whole book about it," Cassian teased, laughing hard.

Rhysand was trying really hard to keep a straight face the whole time, but after Cassian's comment he was about to lose it, and Azriel standing in the dark corner rather disappeared in his shadows after this comment.

How did I even get into this situation? Well, I knew how. It all happened because I was a passionate researcher. Too passionate for my own good.

It all started with mated Archeron sisters and Mor who wouldn't stop debating about this thing of a correlation of wingspan with the size of Illyrian male's private parts. It picked up my interest and I searched the entire library to find out more info about it. Utterly failing in the process, there wasn't a single mention. There wasn't even a proper documentation of their wings alone. So I took it upon myself to collect necessary data to confirm or deny truth of this rumour. I briefly mentioned it to Rhys hoping he could help me find enough subjects for the research. Which he did in surprisingly short time. And as if it wasn't enough he and his brothers signed up, too.

"That part I will leave to you. I hope I can count on you to deliver accurate numbers. If you try to cheat I'll have your mates to do it properly," I laughed, but I meant every single word.

"I'm sure Nes would be all for it," Cassian grinned proudly.

"As if Feyre wouldn't," Rhysand lost it. I had to laugh. I was afraid it would turn into something awkward, but with these two it was impossible. They were like kids, turning everything into a funny game.

I met Rhysand under the mountain. He witnessed the moment my ex betrayed me and when Feyre saved us all, he picked up my remains and brought me to Velaris to heal. In the end I decided to stay here. I buried love, lust and everything related to it as deep as possible and focussed on what I liked - research - occasionally helping inner circle.

"At least they certainly won't cheat," I smiled. "This research origins in their concern after all."

The three of us laughed so hard we cried. Only Azriel stayed silent hidden in his corner.

"And who will make sure Azriel doesn't cheat?" Cassian wondered.

"Why should I," Azriel stepped out from his hideaway, lowering a challenging gaze at me.

"I believe Azriel is the last one of three of you to use such dirty tricks to manipulate the results," I said, returning his gaze. "But if he does, I'll personally make sure he delivers true data."

His hazel eyes lit up with mischief and corners of his full lips slightly moved upward in a hardly there smirk. He wasn't so different from his brothers. More serious than these two? Certainly, but he could be playful, too.

"Okay, guys, let's get it done. Who is the first to show off the wingspan?"

This was the part I'd been looking forward the most. Illyrian wings, the most important subject of my research and to be honest, the main reason of this fuss. So sacred that sometimes even their lovers weren't allowed to touch them. Not that I could touch them by any mean. Boys only granted me to take measurements and a close look to make detailed sketches. Totally understandable given how sensitive they were.

All three of them took turns one in a time, helping me when my arms were too short. I took measurements of different parts of their bodies, too, just to be sure I have all I could possibly need to get accurate results. I wrote down numbers into my notebook, already amazed by the results.

"That's all for today. Thank you for your time. When can I expect the other data?"

"You can get them even right now, if you want, but I guess you don't want to see it, do you?" Cassian, always such a tease. I shook my head laughing.

"Would tomorrow morning be a soon enough for you?" Rhysand purred, flashing a smile. "Tonight we're going to have a lot of fun with Feyre."

"It would be perfect," I agreed. The sooner I was done here, the sooner I could go to camps to collect data from volunteers Rhysand had found for me.

Cassian and Rhysand left soon after, but ever-silent Azriel stayed behind.

He seemed to be so flustered and nervous while I was taking his measurements. Cassian was picking on him for that, but Azriel stoically ignored him and held still. It seemed he didn't even breathe. I knew he didn't like to be touched. It was the biggest of the surprises that he voluntarily signed up for this, so I was extra careful with him.

Ever since I met him, he was always very kind and considerate to me. However it took some time until he opened up. It's just few months since we started to hang out more. Not that I wouldn't like him. If I were honest, I would admit that he was very interesting person, I liked him a lot and he was so incredibly handsome. Too handsome to be real.

But that's exactly the way I wasn't suppose to think about him. I'm the type who falls easily and hard, and loves with all her being. That's why I was so devastated last time. Nobody could possibly love somebody like me. I'm unbearable in many ways.

Plus he is too high league for somebody like me. He can have anybody he wants and the line of prospects is long. Elain and Gwyn for example compete for his attention for years. Successfully. There's no way he would think of me that way. I shook my head to get rid of these self harming thoughts.

Turning I smiled at him encouragingly. Azriel cleared his throat, wings rustled behind his back. He did this often when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

"The camps.. are you planning to go there alone?" His deep voice always did this strange thing with my insides. And today was no different. I pushed the feeling aside, to the box of things I shouldn't think about and shut it closed.

"No, I believe last time Rhysand mentioned something about sending an escort. Mor is going with me, too."

"Okay," he nodded. His one word responses the were death of me. It was so hard to keep conversation going.

"Uhm.. So tomorrow? You don't have to hurry if it's inconvenient for you."

"Tomorrow is fine."

"Oh.. So.. uhm.. I'll see you tomorrow." Shadowsinger just nodded looking down at me a little longer than necessary and then finally he turned and left. I let out a long breath.

Next day Rhys came as the first one as soon as I entered my office. I guess he couldn't wait. Cassian stopped by as soon as the training with priestesses was over. I checked their results with their mates during the lunch break just to be sure the numbers are correct.

It was almost evening and Azriel was nowhere to be seen. I packed some of the stuff I needed to take to camps and took a look around. There was nothing else to keep me occupied, so I decided it's time to go home. I was about to open the door when a knock sounded. It was Azriel.

"You came," I greeted him with smile.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner. I was-"

"It's okay," I interrupted him. "You really don't need to apologise. I'm grateful you signed up for this."

He made a small noise and handed me a piece of folded paper. I took it and returned to my desk where I left the notebook with all data.

"Were you going to go home already?" he asked while I unfolded the paper.

"Yeah, you came just in time. One minute later and I would be gone." I looked at the number and froze. No way, this was certainly wrong. I compared it to the other numbers. Definitely wrong.

"Something's wrong?" he stepped closer, peeking down on me.

"What?" I was so immersed in my thoughts I didn't hear him. "Excuse me," I said boldly and reached for his crotch. Just to make things clear, I wasn't completely myself, otherwise I wouldn't dare to even think about doing so. In that very moment I was simply researcher and nothing else.

Azriel sharply inhaled, eyes widened, but he held still, blushing heavily.

"As I thought," I mumbled to myself releasing him. "Sweetheart, you were supposed to measure yourself when you are.. You know.. 'excited'. I really didn't think you would try to sabotage the research," I tried to joke to lighten his embarrassment. "With your .. equipment.. there's no reason for you to lose. I thought you are quite competitive."

He just silently looked to the side while the shadows danced around him as if trying to hide him.

"Or did you want me to help you with it?" I smiled teasingly. His head snapped up, hazel eyes finding mine. "Sit down there," I pointed to an armchair near the window. While he did as I asked him, I took a chair, placing it next to the armchair, facing the other side. I took the notebook, a towel and a tape measure I used the other day, and sat down on the chair.

I looked at him amused. From this angle I could see only his face and shoulders. "Go ahead. I won't look." With that I opened the notebook looking for the page, but he hadn't moved gazing up at me.

I smiled still leafing through pages. "Let me tell you a secret, okay? We have something in common, Az." I leaned closer to him as if it was really a secret I was about to reveal. "When I say I won't look, then I really won't do it." I looked straight into his eyes to make it clear that I meant it. "I can even measure you without seeing it. I don't need to touch you either. All I need is for this measure to touch you. That's all. So take your pants off and let me know when you are ready."

At this moment he was panting heavily, his pupils dilated. "Do you want me to chit chat you through it? Or do you prefer silence?" I added, arching a brow at him when he just sat there gazing. Finally he moved and I heard as his pants slid down. Azriel's gaze darkened, his eyes never leaving mine.

He swallowed, his broad chest heaving. "I'm ready" he rasped, his usually deep voice deepened even more. I'd be lying if I said it didn't effect me. Now it was my turn to blush.

I handed him the towel. "Cover yourself." I stood up slowly to give him enough time. I turned to him placing notebook on a small side table within arm's reach. I gasped when I looked down at him. My heart went crazy, running for marathon and I could only wish he didn't hear it.

Azriel sat in the armchair in full grace as if it was his throne, his bare legs with muscles on right places spread wide, towel crumpled in his fist. He grinned challengingly.

Okay, maybe we have more than one thing in common. I hate losing, too.

My mouth went dry and I was panting as heavily as Azriel. My head emptied. It took me every ounce of self-control to step between his legs, control my trembling hands and measure him. But I did it, I didn't break.

"Much better," I said coolly as I wrote results down. I collected my things, ready to leave.

"You want to leave me like this, Y/N?" Azriel growled lowly.

I made the mistake and looked into his beautiful eyes. I wasn't sure what I'd seen in them, but it dug out all forgotten feelings. As wave of lust washed over me I lost control over myself. I sat down on the armrest, my legs brushing his thigh lightly. I placed hands on his shoulders and leaned in.

"You are right. I should repay you," I whispered inches from him.

For a while Azriel watched me as a starved man. Slowly, very slowly he erased the distance between us, his soft lips colliding with mine. The moan that came out from his throat made me forget whatever happened after that.

When his fingers found a waistband of my pants and started unbuttoning them, it was like a cold shower. I broke the kiss, untangling my fingers from his silky dark strands. Eyes still closed, his lips followed after me. I squeezed his fingers in my hands and he looked up at me. I could see he wasn't pleased that I stopped him, but he didn't try to pressure me.

"This part of me is not on offer," I said calmly sending him a sad smile. There wasn't reason to be mad. It was my fault in the first place, I was the one to provoke him. "For you it might be just another one night stay that you forget all about very next morning, but I'm different." I stood up fixing my clothes. "I take male to bed only when I have feelings for him and vice versa." He frowned, ready to say something. "I'm trying to say.. for me it isn't just sex.. To do it, I need real relationship, real feelings, security.. Lust isn't enough. I'm sorry." I left quickly and he didn't try to stop me this time.

Next day early in the morning I left to collect data at camps. Work helped me to forget about that night, but as soon as I stopped, it all returned. The most scary thing was to return back to Velaris and meet him. So I extended my stay as much as possible.

Four months later I was sitting in a sitting room of River House, chatting with Feyre and Mor by the fireplace after the family dinner. I collected all data to get some presentable results and currently I was half through writing in down. (Just between us, the rumors have proven to be true. Larger wingspan equals bigger you-know-what)

It was few weeks since I returned to Velaris and so far Azriel was avoiding me as much as possible. When we happened to be in the same room, he didn't even acknowledge me, looking the other side. So much for my fear.

Did it hurt? As hell. He was my friend. The feelings he awakened that night also didn't disappear over night, haunting me down every spare minute I had. I pushed them deep down, but it was too late. I'd already fallen for him.

During our stay at camps, Mor found out that something must have happened before we left, but she'd never asked about it. Which I was very grateful for. I wasn't ready to talk about it.

Now she kept peeking somewhere behind me, biting on her lower lip, unusually silent. Something was obviously bothering her. I could ask her straight away, but I decided to give her 5 minutes to see if she would start to talk on her own. It took exactly 3 minutes.

"Uhm, Y/N, tell me. Something happened between you and Az?"

"I may have hurt his male ego. Why?" I replied as casually as possible.

"He keeps eyeing you and I know that look too well. He watched me like that for five centuries, but it's never turned into something so... Desperate?" She turned to Feyre. "What do you think?"

Feyre inconspicuously peeked behind me, too. "Yeah, definitely desperate. And sad. Rhys said that lately he isn't himself. As if something was wrong with him? Maybe bothered him? But he won't talk about it."

Mor nodded. I had the urge to turn around and see for myself, but I resisted.

"What happened?" Mor asked and Feyre leaned closer, eager for details.

"Well, he kind of misunderstood the situation.. and I told him.. that I don't do the one night stay thing.."

"He actually went after you?" Mor beamed lowering her voice.

"Not really. I might have provoked him a bit," I reluctantly admitted.

They giggled like small girls, looking at each other.

"Y/N, believe me when I tell you that you can't provoke him," Mor whispered enthusiastically. "Nobody is able to break him. He is like.. granite."

"There must be something more behind it," Feyre added. "You should go and talk to him."

"You should," Mor agreed. "He looks to be on the verge of total breakdown." She again peeked behind me. "Go. Right. Now."

They both gave me nod, stood up and moved to another chat group. I stayed alone, just like Azriel who sat in an alcove with window behind me. I inhaled deeply, slowly breathing out. I could at least give it a try. Standing up I took my glass and walked to him.

"Hey."

"Hey," he answered lowly. I hardly heard him. His face was as unreadable as usually, but his impossibly beautiful hazel eyes.. Yeah, they were right. He looked to be on verge of breakdown. Even his posture was all wrong. Slumped shoulders, hunched over, wings hanging down. The shadows hoovered around him like embodiment of his current mood.

"Everything alright?"

He nodded looking away. Ouch. He didn't want to talk with me. I probably hurt his ego more than I thought. I was lost for words. Did he expect me to apologise? I certainly wouldn't do that. I had every right to stop him back then.

Oh, male and their ego. Suddenly memories of my ex flooded my mind. And I got mad. Rage was the only emotion that never disappeared completely nor healed.

I turned around, ready to leave before I could take it out on the wrong person. Strong fingers wrapped around my arm, stopping me. They held me gently, but firmly. I looked back at Azriel and all the rage was gone instantly.

"Would you mind to it down with me?"

I couldn't speak, still shocked by the pain in his eyes. Just when I was seated in the alcove, he released me and sat back down, too. Silence stretched between us.

"I meant to say this much sooner," he started slowly. "I'm so sorry for my poor behaviour. I'm so ashamed." My fingers curled into fist, but I didn't dare to interrupt him. "I know you were just joking to make me feel better, to relax. I knew it even back then. I wish I could explain why I did it, but I can't. I was.. dick."

And how big dick. I had to bite down on my lip to stop myself. This was serious situation. But in all seriousness, he broke the records. Nobody had bigger than him.

"I should have covered with towel as you asked me. I shouldn't have stopped you. I shouldn't have kissed you," he whispered the last sentence. "I should even be sorry that I kissed you, but I am not. I wanted it. Really wanted. Still want it. I'm trash." He stood up quickly. I managed to pull him back down before he could run away. My pulse skyrocketed.

Waitwaitwait. Had he just said that he still wanted to kiss me? My rational part demanded answers. I had to solve this question before my reckless heart could come to own conclusion. I didn't need another heartbreak.

I looked deep into his eyes. I looked only for truth and nothing else. "Tell me, Az, why? Why do you still want it?"

He blushed fiercely and tried to look away, but I wouldn't let him. "Please."

"I..love you," he whispered and my heart stopped for second only to start racing at a crazy pace later.

I wasn't sure he really said that. That must be just my imagination, right? I gazed at beautiful, elegant Elain with big doe eyes sitting on the other side of room, laughing with her sisters. Yeah, I imagined it. But when my eyes slid back to him, he was gazing right back, tensed, waiting.

"I'm sorry. I think I misheard," I smiled nervously.

"I said.. I love you," Azriel repeated quietly, but clearly.

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't think. I couldn't. I just surged forward and hugged him. He stiffened for a heartbeat and then his strong arms wrapped around me and held me firmly. Another tear followed the first one and then another, until it turned into an endless stream. I felt a cool touch of his shadows. They hid us from prying eyes. Or so I thought.

World tilted to the side and we were in my office where it all had started.

"More private," Azriel whispered when I released him to take a look around, confused.

I quickly wiped tears away. "Oh." I still wasn't ready to talk. My head was a total mess. Love. Azriel just told me he loved me. And he was still waiting for my answer. But I wasn't currently able to put the words together to make even a simple sentence.

"Do you need water?" he offered, helping me to sit to an armchair, the very same armchair where he.. Nope, I couldn't think about it now. It would be too much.

What was the question? Ah, water.. Did I need it? I nodded anyway and he handed me a glass. I emptied it immediately.

Azriel watched me carefully as if I could explode any second. I was trying to find something to ground me and my eyes fell to the notebook. "Wingspan," I blurted. His brows furrowed. "You have the largest wingspan."

He huffed in amusement. "Do I?" Azriel took a step back, his eyes were sad again.

Maybe I was crazy, but I reached out and pulled him down on me. "I believe I still haven't repaid for your help."

He shook his head. " You don't have to-"

"I want." I cupped his cheeks between my hands. He hesitated searching my face, his body tensed above me.

Azriel slowly leaned down and kissed me. It was nothing like the last kiss driven by lust and desire. This kiss was careful, exploring. I pushed against his shoulder and we exchanged our positions.

Just like the last time, Azriel was sitting in the armchair and I was above him. I made sure there was space between us. I didn't want to provoke him, sex was out of the question yet. He knew it, too, and kept his hands on my waist.

I deepened the kiss and soon enough we both turned into a panting mess. Azriel's moan startled me.

"I'm sorry," he rasped.

I giggled. "You moaned back then, too."

"I can't help it," he smiled. Azriel leaned forward, keeping small space between us. He hid his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply again and again. "Touch them."

I swallowed. "What?"

"You can touch them," he spread his wings wide around us. "I've never allowed anybody to touch them. But now I want you to do so."

I was speechless second time today. Sacred Illyrian wings and he asked me to touch them. This was Illyrian way to say he trusted me. He trusted me even with his life.

I ran my fingers through his soft hair. "You know that.. there will be no sex today nor any time soon.." I hoped it came out as a joke. Truthful, but still joke.

He laughed breathlessly. "I know. That doesn't change the fact I want you to touch them. You said you want to repay me. So please.." He kissed the sensitive spot under my ear.

He got me there. If he only knew what he had called upon himself. I wanted to touch them, badly, but not only because they were his. I wanted it because I was the damn researcher which equals to a monster at times. I longed to feel the texture of the skin, to feel every single bone and muscle in them, everything.

"Are you really sure about this?" My attention was already trained on the beautiful enormous wings around me. This was his last chance to back out of this.

"Absolutely. So put those damn little hands of yours on them already," he rasped, landing another kiss to that sensitive spot.

He didn't need to repeat it again.

I gasped as tips of my fingers traced the soft skin around the bone. It. Was. Perfect. I expected them to be cold and rough to touch. Even though I touched him just lightly, I could feel every single muscle, even the smallest ones. The bone seemed to be so fragile and strong at the same time. Skin was so warm, stretchy and impossibly soft like baby's skin. I mapped every vein running through the membranes, his pulse drumming under my hands. I traced every scarred tissue I found, paying it extra attention.

I was so immersed into exploring his wings that I hadn't noticed what my curiosity did to Azriel until he came under me with a wall shattering roar. I winced, looking down at him.

His head was tilted back, eyes closed tightly. He was trembling and panting, his broad chest heaving heavily. Streams of sweat were running down the column of his exposed neck. His hands were fisting the material of armrests so tightly he almost torn it into shreds.

I couldn't believe I'd missed something so..amazing. Azriel was a piece of art in every possible meaning. My fingers traced the vein that bobbed out on his neck. He shuddered, his eyes slowly opened, looking up at me. Shadowsinger smiled weakly. "Only you can do this to me," his voice was hoarse.

I brushed away a damp strand of hair that fell to his forehead. My heart was beating wildly as I leaned in and kissed him slowly and deeply. His hands embraced me, pulling me closer.

"I love you," I whispered to his mouth.

I wasn't scared anymore. In this very moment I was more confident than ever that I would spend the rest of my life with this perfect male. Because he was mine and I was his.

#english isnt my first language #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #az x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #sarah j maas

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karinasbaby · 9 months

Text

෴ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 - 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 방찬

❛ 𝙒𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿 𝘿𝙊 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏, 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘾𝘼𝙉 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆 𝙈𝙀 𝙄𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙊𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘾𝘼𝙍 ❜

PAIRING: bang chan x fem!reader

GENRE: smut - oneshot (mdni) (17+)

WC: 4.4k

WARNING: chan is possessive,car sex, unprotected sex, mean?? dom chan, fingering, dacryphilia, degradation kink that turns to praise at the end, hickeys, making out, chan has a spit kink, slightly brat reader, breeding kink, creampie (don’t do this), chan has a spanking kink so reader has a “punishment”, pet names (angel/baby) and also (whore/slut), edging, chan is mean pt2, he also has a “sir” kink cuz. really filthy btw

SYNOPSIS: you couldn’t shake off the feeling of neglect from your boyfriend, you missed him and his body so dearly, what better way to reconcile and make up than missing hyunjin’s birthday party?

pecking chan’s lips before opening the door for the backseat left chris confused, yet he didn’t question anything. he knew how the small disagreement you both had a few hours ago in your shared apartment affected you both yet he didn’t bring it up deciding that it was best to discuss the issue after the party.

ah yes, the party.

hyunjin’s annual birthday parties that the entire city looked forward to every year. it was no surprise that his parties were the most anticipated ones throughout your entire university, hell even some students from other universities went as far as creating friendships with your university’s students just to get the chance of receiving an invitation.

you didn’t have to worry about whether or not you’ll receive an invitation, since your boyfriend also happens to be one of hyunjin’s closest friends.

which brings you back to the argument that took place between you and chris that undoubtedly was the reason why chris was gripping the steering wheel with his jaw clenched as he tried his best to focus on the road.

“so you’re still going to wear it?” chan’s voice coming out strained made you lift an eyebrow, he was still not looking at you either, why was he still so affected by it?

chan is a possessive partner, he didn’t like to have other dudes’ eyes raking up your body up and down when he was standing right next to you. he didn’t like it when other men came up hitting on you and you sometimes even flirting back with them just to get something out of chan.

he didn’t like it when other guys thought that they even had a chance with you.

yet nothing he did helped, the hickeys he leaves on your chest for other people to see the marks that so obviously wave flags of you being taken didn’t help. chan standing besides you glaring at people who are talking to you while gripping your waist tightly didn’t help. him turning down people who asked for your number from him didn’t help.

you clearly being a “femme fatale” and having men falling down on their knees at your feet for you was something chan didn’t really take into consideration, (which he should have since he ended up in the same situation)

it felt like he was getting disrespected as a boyfriend.

but being the polite and kind man he is, he never went further than threatening people of them not making it to see the upcoming day and always left it at that, on some guys it worked with them getting intimidated by his glare and nodding then proceeding to walk away, on others not so much as they scoffed at him then claimed that they could find someone better, which in turn makes chan scoff.

see, chan is in love with you. every part of you and in love with everything you do, you’re his everything and he always has the time of his life flaunting his beautiful partner to other people, loving to see other men glare at him after ogling you shamelessly for being blessed with such a perfect lover.

but when it came to guys crossing the line and believing they had a chance with you, that’s when chan decides to get involved.

and he already knows the outcome of the current situation that he’s in,

going to hyunjin’s birthday party meant people from other universities being invited, meaning that the possibility of men hitting on you tonight was endless, meaning that the skimpy mini dress that you wore to hyunjin’s party, clearly wasn’t the best choice.

but did you care? not at all.

not when you begged chan to skip this year’s party and stay at home after he spent the entire week working and studying, peppering his face with kisses just to convince him to stay at home and for you to spend time together with your lover, you missed him, your body did too.

yet chan refused, how could he miss his best friend’s once-every-year birthday party?

he has never missed one ever since their friendship bloomed so how could he now?

which is how you ended up with the plan of riling chan up till he finally gives in and spends time with you, for once in a week.

and maybe the plan of wearing a revealing dress in front of him and refusing to change to something different in hopes of pissing chan off to the point where he rips the dress apart and fucks you against the wall backfired when he walked out of the door of your apartment to shout “i’ll be in the car” to you.

but you still went along, you always win.

getting into the backseat where you proceed with the second phase of the plan, knowing that there’s no possible way chan will refuse you now.

looking at chan’s face through the rearview mirror, you smiled when you noticed he was still tense, he was still gripping the steering wheel with snow white knuckles, and was still avoiding your eyes.

chan was pissed.

“where’s the fun if i were to change into something boring?” you replied, busying yourself with applying yet another coat of lip gloss, not missing chan glancing at you,

“so you like it when men stare at you when you wear shit like that?” chan voiced out, anger clearly lacing his voice, he was fighting the urge to just pull over and fuck you on the side of the road because why the fuck are you answering him back right now?

“no, i like it when i look hot” you replied, smiling to chan widely once your eyes make contact in the rearview mirror, god how much did chan hate the way your smile made his heart flutter, you looked gorgeous. chan was seriously fighting back his urges to devour you right now.

“don’t look at me like that” he whispered, forcefully tearing his eyes from your playful gaze which made you smile wider, leaning forward making sure that your body is still visible through the mirror, enough to reveal even more of your cleavage, you angled your mouth next to his ear before whispering back to him

“like what?” chan glanced again at you through the mirror, of course he realised your lust filled eyes that were sparkling with a mischievous glint, he knew you were up to something, poking his tongue to his cheek he sped up the car, stepping on the engine to match the adrenaline rush that you’re giving him right now.

“you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, baby” chan teased, you chuckled when you noticed his eyes darkening, your plan was working wonderfully.

“keep your eyes on the road, babe” you responded, chan’s eyes unintentionally trailing back to the road for a few more seconds before his eyes locked on your moving figure in the back again,

why were you taking your straps down?

slowly, your fingers grazed your exposed chest and arm as you took down the strap of your mini dress, leaving the dress the pool around your waist and your breasts to come into sight for chan to glue his eyes too,

“what the fuck?” chan’s breath hitched when he saw you slightly lifting up your hips to drag the dress down, revealing that you’re not wearing any panties either.

you leaned forward to take off your shoes before the car came to an abrupt stop on the side of the road, “let the shoes stay on.” chan said, his voice coming out hard as he felt his own blood boil at the same time feeling the rush of his blood towards his lap.

“why did you stop the car?” you asked innocently, blinking up at chan with the most sincere and pure look in your eyes through the mirror, chan didn’t even look back at your gaze, instead he took his seat belt off to open his door before coming up to the backseat door,

watching chan crouching down slightly with a look of fury in his glowering gaze in the middle of an empty road because of the ungodly hour he’s driving along with the only source of light being from the moon has you squirming in your seat behind the window, thighs rubbing together to provide any sort of relief to the wetness that has settled in between your legs hours ago.

chan’s gaze never left your eyes, you could feel the anger, the lust and the longing behind his eyes, he might be furious with you but you know he missed you as well.

and then everything happened in the blink of an eye.

one moment chan was glaring at you through the window of his car, the next he’s pushing your body down against the leather of his carseat, discarding his black blazer to the trunk leaving him in his black button up that was tightly hugging his muscles in every corner of his body,

“such a fucking slut” chan grunted, his hands grabbing onto every inch of skin he can reach given the situation he’s in, while you moaned loudly when his fingers graze over your hardened nipple which only lead him to snicker

“please i’ve been waiting for you for an entire week” you cried out, relishing in the feeling of his hands gripping your waist tightly, his arm travelled down holding down your hips while his other ghosted over your core,

“my baby’s been waiting an entire week for me? i’m such a bad boyfriend for making you wait so long, angel.” chan feigned hurt from your statement, nodding your head to his words thinking he finally was going to give you what you’ve been waiting for, your body feeling warm under his hands as his fingers caressed your skin roughly.

scoffing at your agreement with his words, chan shook his head before gripping your chin to force you to look at his eyes, “and the best thing you thought to do was to undress like a fucking whore in the back of my car?” chan growled, his eyes filled with anger which made your heart skip a beat seeing his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes dark with his jaw clenched shouldn’t turn you on more already.

“i’m sorry i didn’t know what to do!” you replied back, suddenly feeling fearful yet excited as to what chan might do, after all angry sex with chan was rare yet amazing.

“open your mouth, it seems like i have to teach you a fucking lesson” hearing chan speak with so much fury laced in his tone made you obey to his every command, opening your jaw which lead to his hand to wrap around your neck, chan leaned down to spit in your mouth, staring angrily as his string of spit landed on top of your tongue,

tightening his grip on your throat, “swallow.” he ordered, you instantly closed your mouth to obey his command, leaving chan satisfied when he felt your throat swallowing under his hand.

“what a dumb fucking whore.” chan started, his gaze now reaching your eyes, eyes filled with so much lust, need and excitement that you almost made chan give in to please you for the whole night,

but then remembering your behaviour made him angrier than before, so what best way to take it out other than fucking you dumb till you can’t form sentences?

one of chan’s hands dipped down to your heated core, while the other stayed with a harsh grip on your neck, at one point your own hands went up to hopefully lessen his grip to no avail which ended up in you resting your hands on his, “baby, please!” you begged, feeling a slight veil of tears building in your eyes at the desperation, you’ve never been this desperate, and chan has never been this mean.

“so innocent now, are we?” chan taunted, his finger running down to play with your folds, his middle dipping into your slit finally coming in contact with your wetness which left you gasping, chan was trying his best to control his urges of pounding into you right then and there when he felt his finger sinking easily into your warm walls,

“so wet. what a fucking slut.” grunting out while feeling his boner growing uncomfortably hard at the sight of you helpless, wet and needy beneath him,

“fuck- please baby” you cried out, feeling his finger dipping teasingly in and out, his thumb deciding to settle on your throbbing clit just to apply pressure, ignoring the electricity jolting throughout your legs you clawed at his hands around your neck to quicken his movements, moaning when his hand trailed down to grope your breast while he started to slowly pump one finger inside of you.

“please what? please fuck me hard and put me in my place because i keep whoring around? please what? speak up, angel” chan got closer to your neck with each word, his fingers never once pausing as they only started to reach deeper and hit spots that had your legs twitch, your moans cut off any sort of response you were trying to come up with once you felt his hand twisting your nipple between his icy cold fingers,

lips coming into contact with your neck, biting down without a care to your moans of pleasure turning to those of pain, his thumb now moving in circles on your clit, dragging your orgasm closer and closer as you felt a knot tightening up in your lower stomach,

“i’m close- fuck-“ you breathed out harshly, whining when you felt chan instantly pull his fingers out of your heat, tears gathering at your waterline from your ruined orgasm leading chan to chuckle at your state,

“you were being a brat the whole day and you expect me to make you fucking cum? come on angel, don’t be this dumb” chan glared down at you, his fingers that were coated in your essence were brought up to your mouth, without chan saying anything and his glare being enough, you quickly opened up your mouth to have him shove his fingers harshly down your throat.

“suck.” chan demanded, moving his fingers around your tongue fast, tears were by now flowing freely down your cheeks, makeup ruined as you gagged around his fingers, “suck like the fucking whore you are.” he gritted his teeth, anger still prevailing in his body, head dropping low to leave bite marks on your chest, ignoring your muffled cries as he bit down on your skin harsh enough to taste the tiniest tinge of blood on his tongue, right beneath your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts, under the swell of your left boob,

he licked upwards, taking his fingers out of your mouth to replace it with his, his mouth landing on yours harshly as he passionately kissed you with his teeth clashing against yours, biting down on your bottom lip till you cried out from the pain.

chan’s hands suddenly left your body to flip you over, your hands landing on the leather seats to stabilise yourself, while chan was too busy lifting up your hips slightly to give him a clear view of your ass,

“let’s see now angel, your punishment.” chan spoke nonchalantly, one of his hands reaching to his back pocket to retrieve his phone while the other started to gently massage your ass,

“look at the time, angel” chan growled out, extending his arm to make you view his phone screen, a blinding “12:45” showing proudly on his screen, your heart dropped at what his punishment might indicate, “when did we promise to show up before the fight and everything else?” chan was closer now, him growling right next to your ear while his fingers were digging into your ass made your head drop against the leather seats,

“seven chan, we promised to go at seven.” you whined out when you felt his hand begin to massage you again, toes curling at the feeling of his icy cold hand rubbing against your warm skin while you felt his boner poking your thigh.

“how many hours late are we?” chan questioned, closing the phone and throwing it to the passenger seat while his hands were gripping the back of your thighs waiting for an answer,

“five and a half.” you croaked out, shivers taking up your body when you felt his hands ghosting up and down, inching towards your pussy just to go downwards again,

that was until you felt a harsh slap land on your ass cheek, moaning out loudly while fresh tears prickled in your eyes, you looked back to see chan massaging the skin that now held the print of his palm and fingers.

“what a bad fucking girl” chan grunted out, his eyes trailing upwards to meet your tearful filled ones, almost faltering when he saw you sniffing softly but remembering your safe word was enough to have him continue,

“count.” once again using a condescending tone, chan’s hand landed on your ass, the same spot burning like fire from his ruthless strength which only jerked your body forward against the seats before you dropped your head down to allow all your tears to run down your face,

“two.” you whined out, your mind felt like it was melting with chan’s duality of his aggressive slaps yet gentle caresses to your skin after his abuse,

“three” you almost screamed when his hand landed on your ass again, the pain mind numbing yet it went straight to your pussy, you were sure now with the amount of wetness that was pooling out of you with each slap, that chan’s seats didn’t make it.

“almost there.” chan encouraged, leaning his body towards you again to allow you to feel his breath against your shoulders and neck, his hand landed on your ass harshly again, making you arch your back against his touch, chan taking this as an opportunity to scatter kisses along your shoulders, half of his heart heavy with his punishment while the other was filled with excitement of finally fucking you after a week.

“four,” you moaned out, feeling chan’s tongue lick around the shell of your ear before biting your ear lobe, his hand by now was running up and down your spine in an attempt to soothe your body, before slapping your ass again for the last time, the sound echoing slightly inside his car, his heart swelling once he heard your small and weak “five.”

wasting no time chan lifted your head up to connect your mouths, his hands still busy with massaging the forming bruise on your ass, his tongue dancing along yours sloppily, chan didn’t care about the drool that was dripping down the corner of your mouth towards your chin, he only cared about the wet sounds reverberating in his car as he sucked on your lower lip, pulling away to only leave a short string of spit to connect between your mouths,

chan aligned his body towards yours after trying his best to lower his pants and boxers, his hands intertwining with yours while your head rested against the leather seats, anticipation building up at the thought of your aching pussy finally getting the attention it deserved,

feeling chan’s hardened tip teasing your entrance was enough to have your eyes rolling back, the knot in your stomach already tightening up horribly, the feeling of chan leaning down to connect his chest to your back, to rest his weight on you had you clenching around his tip, leaving him chuckling

“you’re so desperate, angel,” chan spoke in a condescending manner against your ear, getting only a whimper from you as a response, he slowly pushed his entire length inside of you, the two of you sighing in satisfaction once he bottomed out easily due to just how fucking wet you’ve been the entire day.

setting up a slow yet hard and deep pace, his thrusts felt like they were moulding your pussy to accommodate his length only, soft gasps and grunts echoed throughout the car as chan’s grip tightened on your hands, surely leaving bruises by now,

“you did so well for your punishment, angel” chan spoke gently, his cock still pushing against your walls, his thrusts deliciously deep while he busied himself with moving your hair to the side to expose more of your shoulder for him to kiss gently,

your throat by now had gone hoarse from your moans, broken mewls leaving your mouth as you felt him picking up the pace, sweat trickling down both of ur bodies, as chan rocked your body back and forth on his length, relishing in the way your velvety warm walls were accepting him warmly,

whereas you on the other hand had started gripping on his hands, nails digging to his skin to leave your crescent moon marks, tears continuously cascading down your glowing cheeks as chan’s tip kept kissing your cervix, his length rubbing all the spots that had you seeing stars while you felt the knot tighten, and tighten impossibly in your lower stomach,

pinching chan’s wrist to let him get the signal of your impending orgasm and not being brave enough to trust your voice to vocalise, chan chuckled slightly before pulling both of your arms to cage them against your lower back, holding down your arms as chan slowly moved back up on his knees his eyes welcoming the gorgeous sight of your back littered with his red marks under the moonlight and his cock buried balls deep in your pussy,

you moaned out when you felt him moving again, “f-faster please- baby i’m so close-“ you choked out, voice cracking with every moan that chan dragged out of your wrecked body, his grip tightened on your arms before questioning you

“that’s not my name, angel” your breath hitched when you felt another one of your orgasms get ruined when chan stayed still without moving, sobbing you cried out “s-sir! sir please fuck me p-please” chest heaving up and down chan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head at your desperate and pleading tone,

easily letting his grip go out on you, he quickly flipped you over to allow your tear-stricken face with wispy wet lashes and your blushing red cheeks to come into sight, his eyes racking down your sweaty figure before settling between your legs, quickly pushing his length back inside of your walls he wrapped his arms around your waist, he had to see you cum.

your own legs quickly caged him by the waist, your arms going to hold onto his shoulders for support while chan began pounding into you, removing your chance of moaning chan smashed his mouth against yours swallowing all your noises, his hips never faltering in movement as he easily reached your deepest spots yet again, both of you feeling sharp coils tightening in your abdomen, your climaxes right around the corner.

“fuck baby, i’m so c-close” chan almost whined, the feeling of your cunt clenching around him simply because of his words and the way he was talking to you never failed to almost send chan to the edge,

“you want that, baby?” he breathed out, speaking between his kisses and allowing his lips to brush against yours with every word he spoke, his eyes were glued to your face, the way your eyes had rolled back and you had your lip pulled tight between your teeth, while your walls were busy sucking the life out of him into you. so pretty.

“yes fuck! i want y-your cum so fucking bad sir!” you cried out, feeling your climax impossibly closer, chan picked up his pace while his tongue was licking up your neck leaving you breathless for his touch,

your legs tightened against his waist as your heels dug into his lower back, making chan hit deeper inside of you which made your entire body jerk in his hold,

“you want that baby? want me to breed this pussy? this pussy’s just mine isn’t it? god- i’m gonna fill you up so fucking good you’ll be dripping out in front of all those guys who keep fucking hitting on you” chan growled out, his own breath going ragged while you were just dumbly nodding to his words, thinking with your pussy not with your mind and your walls kept clenching around chan’s length

“i’m gonna i-“ you started out, voice getting stuck in your throat as you felt your long awaited orgasm finally wash over your body, high on euphoria your body was shaking between chan’s arms

“i’ve got you baby, so so good to me angel” chan was whispering sweet nothings into your ear as his own hips stuttered when he felt your walls gripping on him so tight it was impossible to move, he felt each and every spasm that was enough to have him settle into the deepest part of your cunt, with his tip pressed against your cervix, shooting up his load right into your womb.

“fuck- oh my god- ‘m so full-“ you cried out, your ears pounding when you felt chan grinding his hips against yours to ride you both out of your orgasms, your vision turning white when you felt him practically fucking his cum deeper into you,

your legs went limp as they turned into jelly and fell down from chan’s waist, your arms by now circling around his neck to lay him down on your chest, both of you breathing heavily and relishing in the afterglow of your incredible climaxes,

chan’s hands stayed wrapped around your waist while yours were running through his hair gently, he began to pepper kisses along your collarbone before his loving eyes met yours,

“you did so well angel,” chan praised, a small smile spreading on his face as he took in your state, with your hair disheveled and sticking onto your forehead and neck from the sweat and your entire face flushed an adorable pink, listening to your soft pants as you tried to regulate your breathing, chan could get used to this view.

“mhm” was all you managed to respond back as you closed your eyes to calm your aching body down, your boyfriend chuckling at your reply before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck,

“hyunjin’s going to be pissed” you suddenly spoke out, chan however did not feel affected by your words, “we can just attend his halloween party to make up for it” he whispered before pressing a long, loving kiss on your pulse.

“i love you” you whispered softly, gazing into chan’s eyes that were holding stars as he looked at you with an equal amount of love that you carried in you eyes,

“i love you too, angel.”

A/N: probably one of my most spontaneous works ever as i wrote this at 4 am yesterday but oh well, also pls ignore the way they were five and a HALF hours late and it was only five slaps we don’t have to talk about it, and in honour of skz winning a VMA here’s this !! anyways i don’t think i’ll release anything else till oct when i’ll (finally) start working on my heeseung oneshot <3 also thank u all sm for the love for 34+35 <3

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

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Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 3)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.4k words

Warnings: Language, fingering, oral (M receiving), unprotected sex, the start of some serious pining

Thanks as always to @agentstarkid ❤️❤️❤️

Series Masterlist

The entire ride to Leeds, Roy was silent. That wasn’t too unusual; he was never one to join in on the singing and chattering, even when he was a player. But today he pressed his head against the window and thought of nothing but a certain gorgeous racer.

Two weeks had passed since your two trysts at Silverstone, and Roy’s mind had been almost constantly occupied with images of you: throwing your head back as he devoured you, writhing beneath him, grinding on his lap, smiling at him in your racing suit, or being doused in champagne. There was also the image that kept coming back no matter how hard he tried to focus on work: you, lying in bed beside him when he woke up that Monday morning.

As promised, as soon as you were awake your mouth was around his already hard cock. After you’d swallowed everything he gave you, the two of you laid in bed for a bit, his arm lazily around your shoulder, chatting absently about upcoming matches and races and how you both thought those things would go; he was impressed with how much you knew about Richmond, and you were touched by his knowledge of your racing.

When his phone started buzzing with messages from Jamie, asking for the keys to his car so they could start getting ready to leave, he had reluctantly said goodbye to you, pressing a harsh kiss to your still swollen lips. His chest was tight the entire walk back to his room, where he only answered Jamie’s questions and knowing looks with grunts and mumblings of “Fuck off.”

And for two weeks, that tightness had made a permanent home in his chest.

It was still there as he walked down the halls at Elland Road, trying to focus on the upcoming match as he headed to the visitors changing room. He was being stupid; he should appreciate that he got to sleep with you, his absolute fantasy woman, and move the fuck on. Most guys would kill to hook up with you once; he’d gotten to be in your bed twice. He was a lucky man. He shouldn’t feel this fucking miserable.

“Holy shit, is that the Roy Kent? He’s here! He’s there! He’s every-fucking-where!”

Roy froze. He knew that voice; he fantasized about that voice.

When he turned around, his mouth went completely dry. Looking fucking adorable in a Greyhounds sweatshirt and a Ferrari baseball cap, you stood in the middle of the hallway, arms crossed, grinning smugly at him. Although you looked impossibly cool, your heart was pounding wildly as you gazed at him, gorgeous as ever in his trackpants and Richmond shirt.

You both took a few tentative steps towards each other, closing the gap between you. You clasped your hands together as you looked up at him, trying to read the expression on his face; there was definitely confusion and surprise there, but maybe a hint of delight too. There was certainly some lust in his eyes; that was something you could spot easily.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Fuck are you doing here?” The words alone sounded harsh, but when he said it with those bewildered eyes, in that soft, raspy voice, it sounded almost… hopeful.

“Keeley invited me,” you explained, wondering if he could see how white your knuckles were as you squeezed your hands together in an effort to avoid squeezing your thighs instead; you really enjoyed these trackpants and the way they hugged your favorite parts of him. “Woud’ve given you a heads up, but…” When he’d left your hotel room, neither of you had offered up your phone number; you hadn’t wanted to look like you were hoping for anything serious. He hadn’t wanted to appear overly eager.

You’d both left that weekend with a nagging feeling of disappointment.

He nodded, seeming to understand your meaning. “Well, it’s nice. Having you here.” The corner of his kissable mouth tugged upwards. “Maybe you’ll bring us luck, Empress.”

“I’ll do my best,” you hummed, your heart fluttering at the flirty tone in his voice. For a moment, you considered offering to “celebrate” the way you had in Silverstone, but that fretful voice in the back of your head, the one that was convinced he couldn’t possibly be interested in another hookup, stopped you.

He glanced at his watch. “Should get going,” he mumbled. He paused, giving no indication that he was in any hurry to walk away from you. “We usually go out after the match. As a team. You should come.”

Roy invited you to go out with the team. Never mind that Keeley had already done so; he didn’t need to know that. “Sounds great.” His invitation gave you enough nerve to brush your fingers against his. Electricity coursed through your body at the light touch. “Good luck out there, Coach.” You winked as you started to back away. “Not that you need it.” With a coy wave over your shoulder, you turned and walked away, confident that Roy Kent’s eyes were glued to your figure until you were out of sight.

A lot of the time Roy could forget his age when he talked to his players, especially his old teammates. Lots of joking and reminiscing, making him forget that he had ten and even twenty years on some of these fellas.

But as he watched these young, fit, handsome men flock to you, all smiles and cockiness as they chatted you up, Roy definitely felt his age. Fucking Granddad indeed.

“Alright there, Roy?” Jamie plopped down beside his coach, whose grasp on his drink was visibly tight. He followed Roy’s gaze across the restaurant the Greyhounds were at well past closing, his mouth forming a perfect O when he saw Dani Rojas making you laugh. “Ah. Don’t like the lads hitting up your girl, eh?”

“Not my fucking girl,” Roy growled, turning his attention to Jamie and wondering if he’d end up breaking this glass with his bare hand. “Barely fucking know her.”

Jamie nodded. “Right. Right. But you like her.” He shrugged at the glare Roy shot him. “I mean, you haven’t taken your eyes off her since we got here. Same at Silverstone.”

Before Roy could tell Jamie to fuck off, someone sat in the chair next to him. He immediately stiffened in more ways than one when he realized it was you and your soft smile.

“Good game, Coach,” you hummed, eyes only for Roy. “Looks like you were right about me bringing you luck.”

He wanted to say something clever, maybe even something flirtatious. But before he could remember how to talk, Richard, Jan, and Thierry sauntered over, affable and confident in a way that made Roy wish he’d just gone back to the hotel after the match.

“We have a little bet going,” Richard announced, confidence oozing charm in that stupid French way women tended to like.

Roy was too busy feeling like shit to notice that the polite smile you gave the guys was not the same coy smile you offered him.

“And what’s that?” you asked, humoring the athletes, wanting to get rid of them so you could see how much flirting you and Roy could get away with without Jamie Tartt noticing.

Thierry’s smirk was clearly one he practiced in the mirror each night. “If you had to go home with one of the Greyhounds,” he teased, “which one would it be?”

Oh fuck this. Roy sat up, ready to tell off his players, to scold them for being so impertinent and honestly really fucking pervy. Especially to someone they had just met- the fucking Empress no less. Was this really how Rebecca fucking Welton’s team treated a renowned female athlete? Richard had the excuse of being, well, French, but really? Fucking Thierry- no, that was actually what one might expect. Okay, so fucking Jan Maas. Roy could yell at Jan Maas.

But your chuckle interrupted his plans. “Ah. And I assume you each bet on yourselves?” You shook your head at their mischievous smirks. “Sorry, gents. Afraid you’re all going back to your hotel rooms alone. No offense, but none of you are quite my type.”

The brief disappointment on each of their faces gave Roy at least a little satisfaction. He should have known better; you didn’t need him to defend you. He’d seen the way you handled sexist interviewers often enough; of course you could deal with a few idiot footballers who’d been drinking a bit too much.

Jan Maas raised his eyebrow at you. “What is your type?”

You wondered if Roy could see the light blush on your cheeks.

“My type,” you repeated with a click of your tongue. “My type.” Your smile widened. “I guess I’d say not the type to go around asking women they’ve barely met to pick one of twenty-five men to hook up with.” The guys were so busy looking ashamed that they didn’t notice your fingertips under the table, barely grazing Roy’s thigh. “Mature. I like my guys more mature than that.”

Properly humbled, the men mumbled their apologies and wandered away, none of them quite able to look you in the eye. Withdrawing your hand from Roy’s leg, you turned back to him- and Jamie, who you’d both forgotten about.

“Sorry ‘bout them,” Roy mumbled. “Fucking idiots.”

You shrugged, letting your leg lightly brush his. “I’ve dealt with worse. Much worse. They were actually pretty tame compared with some things I’ve heard, believe it or not.”

“You handled yourself well,” Roy murmured, eyebrows raised, clearly impressed.

Jamie, whose eyes were darting back and forth between the two of you, cleared his throat. “Gonna go get another drink,” he announced, as if either of you cared. “Want anythin’?” He smiled to himself when you both absently shook your heads, obviously focused on each other.

With Jamie gone, you scooted closer, letting your leg press more firmly against Roy’s now. “Think I should head back to the hotel. Get some rest.” Your voice was low, only for Roy, as you batted your eyelashes. “Think you could walk me back? I don’t know the area well, and it’s pretty dark outside.”

Roy took the hint and downed the rest of his beer. “Honestly, I should be asking you to walk me back with the way you talked to Richard and them.” He stood, nodding towards the door. “Let’s go before fucking Will starts hitting on you or something.”

Ignoring the curious and even knowing glances, you followed Roy out of the restaurant, giving Keeley and Rebecca a small wave and ignoring the wink Rebecca shot you and the obscene gesture Keeley made. It didn’t take a genius to realize how hot you were for Roy Kent, and at this moment, you didn’t care who knew.

You and Roy strolled down the empty street, Roy’s hands stuffed harshly into his pockets; he knew that if he didn’t hide his hands, he’d be trying to hold yours like some fucking teenager. And, despite the fact that the two of you had had your mouths and hands all over each other a couple of times now, Roy felt awfully shy walking next to you. He stared straight ahead, trying to decide if he should invite you to his room or wait for you to invite him to yours.

“Sorry again about the guys,” he mumbled with a scowl. “They were fucking out of line.”

“Honestly, don’t worry about it,” you assured him. “Just make them run some extra laps or some shit.”

Roy snorted. “Oh, they’ll be running til they throw up everything they’ve ever eaten in their lives.”

The hotel was close enough that you really didn’t need Roy to walk you back; but you both knew what you were really after. Otherwise, the two of you wouldn’t be walking through the lobby so briskly and fighting hard to keep your hands off each other.

Without you having to ask, Roy got off of the elevator with you and followed you down the hall to your door; he leaned against the wall and shot you a suggestive look, a man clearly on a very horny mission.

“Don’t suppose you have another bottle of ridiculously expensive scotch in there?” His light tone did nothing to disguise his wicked intentions.

You held the keycard between your fingers, offering a coy shrug as you licked your lips. “I’m not sure. Maybe you could come in and help me look?”

The door had barely clicked shut behind you when Roy had your back pressed against it, his fingers digging into the exposed skin between your jeans and Richmond sweater. His eyes wandered boldly over your figure, letting out a soft groan that had you rubbing your thighs together.

“That sweater looks real fucking good on you,” he muttered, tugging at its hem. “But I bet it looks better on the floor.”

You grinned as you took off your Ferrari cap and tossed it onto a nearby dresser. “That’s so fucking cheesy,” you teased, acting like his words didn’t turn you on. “That the best you got?”

He started pulling at your sweatshirt. “Oh, you want the best I got?”

“Roy Kent, I want everything you’ve got.”

Not caring about slow seduction this time, the two of you sloppily helped each other strip down, throwing jeans and shirts and one black leather jacket into one pile on the floor, leaving you both in your underwear. Roy’s mouth found yours effortlessly, reminding you of exactly why you’d said yes to Keeley so quickly when she invited you to meet her and the team in Leeds. You’d spent each day since she sent that text thinking about exactly this: Roy’s hands exploring your body, leaving a burning path down your skin, your own hands digging into his curly hair, his mouth on yours as if it belonged there.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his voice managing to be gruffer than usual, thick with wanting.

Your hand ghosted over the more than obvious bulge that rubbed against you enticingly. “How ’bout I show you?”

Before he could answer, you were on your knees in front of him, eyeing him with a cheeky smirk. Keeping his gaze, you brought your lips to his thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses that had him letting out a shuddering breath. Fuck, his thighs were gorgeous. Thick, strong, covered in that dark hair, flexing under your tongue.

Without a second thought, you gently sunk your teeth into the muscle. You felt your whole body vibrate with pleasure when you saw the way he threw his head back with a surprised moan, your name spilling out of his mouth as naturally as a swear. Smiling against his skin, you pressed a languid kiss to the spot you’d bitten, gliding your tongue over the bitemark that you hoped would be there for a while, a reminder of you and your mouth.

Before Roy could make some cheeky comment, you pulled down his boxers, revealing the cock you’d been thinking of nonstop since Silverstone. Not caring if you looked desperate or needy, you wrapped your lips around him, your groans mingling with his. He tasted even better than you remembered as you swirled your tongue around his tip, savoring the taste of his precum. Your heart skipped a beat when his hands tangled in your hair, his tight grip prompting a whine from your full mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, eyes fluttering as he tried to keep them on the gorgeously filthy view below him. “You look like a fucking angel. A dirty fucking angel, mouth wrapped around my cock all pretty.”

His obscene praise had you humming around him. You gave him your biggest, prettiest eyes as you sucked, enjoying the view. His face was flushed, and his mouth was slacked as he watched you in awe, practically drooling. Both of you were taking mental pictures, already wondering about and hoping for next time.

Even though you could have stayed down there all night, round after round, feeling him throb in your mouth, Roy tugged your hair roughly. “Let’s get you on the fucking bed, gorgeous.”

He offered you his hand and helped you up, tugging you towards the bed that you’d been hoping to get him in. In the blink of an eye, you were on your back with Roy hovering over you, smirk on his handsome face as his slobber-covered tip nudged your clothed core.

“Look at you,” he growled, eyes dark and full of lust as he took in the sight of you beneath him, wriggling with anticipation. “Bet you’ve been waiting for this as long as I have. Bet you’ve been thinking all about Silverstone. Bet you’ve even touched yourself thinking about me.” He rolled his hips, his cock twitching at the moan you let out. “I know I’ve been touching myself and thinking of you,” he whispered in your ear.

You shivered and bucked your hips up into his. “Have you now?” you hummed, guiding one of his hands down to your soaked panties. “You must be awfully relaxed these days, then.”

He chuckled, remembering all the teasing and flirting from the night you met, and pressed an affectionate kiss to your lips as he slid your panties down your thighs, his rough fingers taking their time running down your skin. “Could do with some relaxing right about now.”

With that, he slid two fingers inside you, sighing as he felt you clench around him. Fuck he’d missed the way you felt, the way you sounded. For two weeks he’d been craving this wetness around his fingers, and now that he had you, he wasn’t wasting any time. He pumped in and out, swallowing your moans greedily.

“Roy,” you gasped as your back arched, “need you. Please.”

“Whatever the Empress wants,” he teased, ignoring how close he was to accidentally saying “my Empress”.

He withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt and brought them to his lips. “Fuck,” he groaned as he licked the tip of his middle finger. “Even better than I remember.” Wickedness flickered across his face. “Want a taste?”

With an obedience you didn’t recognize, you opened your mouth, accepting Roy’s digits between your lips and sucking them with almost as much enthusiasm as you’d shown his cock earlier.

“Good girl.”

Fuck. You weren’t sure what was hotter- Roy’s fingers in your mouth, the taste of yourself on your tongue, his dirty praise, or the feeling of his cock pressing against your soaking entrance.

He removed his fingers, biting his lip when he saw the string of drool attached to his digits. “Fucking hell.” He hungrily kissed your mouth, his tongue roughly grappling with yours to taste every bit of you that he could. As his mouth continued to attack yours, he lined himself up at your entrance and slowly buried himself in you.

“Fuck,” you groaned into his open mouth. “Fuck, Roy, fuck.”

Two weeks of fantasizing and touching yourself and foolishly wondering when you’d see him again was nothing compared to having Roy Kent’s cock throbbing inside you. It stretched you and filled you with the now familiar delicious burn.

“Missed this,” Roy grunted as he set a rough pace. “Missed you.”

Oh shit. The tenderness of his words had your pussy tightening around him, even tighter than the feeling in your chest that grew every time you saw him. With his scowls and his gruffness and his filthy mouth, with his soft eyes and tender smiles and gentle whispers, he was exactly the kind of guy a stupid girl could fall for.

Good thing you weren’t stupid.

You grabbed his biceps, digging in your nails hard enough to leave marks, and wrapped your legs around him to pull him deeper. Yeah, you’d heard the rumors about Roy Kent. All about his stamina and ability, all about the curve in his dick that you discovered didn’t exist. But none of the tabloid fodder did him justice. Especially because no trashy article ever mentioned the fiery gaze that left you a moaning mess in his arms.

He was rougher this time. More desperate, more eager. He’d been in bed with you twice now, didn’t know when his next chance with you would be- if he’d ever even get one- and he was determined to make this one count. So tonight he pounded into you, not caring about how loudly he grunted your name, hoping he’d leave you with some bruises and a hard time walking.

“Roy,” you gasped as he hit that perfect spot deep inside you. “Oh fuck.”

His eyes sparkled. “Oh, we like that?” He hit that spot again, his cock twitching at the sound of your whine. “Again?”

Your desperate nod had him quickening his pace, wanting nothing more than to feel you come around his cock. He reached down between your sweaty bodies and began rubbing your clit, smirking as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed, kissing your forehead as you squirmed and moaned. “Fucking got you, gorgeous. Wanna see you come for me. Please.”

One more deep thrust to hit that perfect little spot, one more stroke to your clit, and you were gone. You bit down on Roy’s bottom lip, trying to keep from screaming as your vision went white. Your back arched sharply as your cunt tightened around him, desperate for nothing but Roy, Roy, Roy.

“That’s it,” you babbled, one of your hands tugging his curly hair. “There, right there.” You pressed a rough kiss to his mouth, not sure where your moans ended and his began. “Need you to come,” you begged. “Fucking come.”

He nodded, eyes wide and full of lust. “Just for you, gorgeous,” he mumbled. He pressed his sweat-covered forehead to yours as he gave one, two, three more thrusts before filling you up with his release. You gasped at the sensation, groaning as you felt it seeping out of you.

Roy gently collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his body. After a moment, he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and craving a second round. Maybe even a third round if Roy could be persuaded.

“You enjoy that?” he finally managed to grumble playfully as he caught his breath. “Because I had a fucking grand time.”

Your breathless laugh was music to his ears. “Yeah, you could say I enjoyed myself.” You kissed his lips, giggling into his mouth.

He smiled down at you, eyes tracing every little red mark he’d left on your skin. “Think I could spend the night?” he whispered as his thumb stroked your cheek.

“Not worried your team’ll catch you sneaking back to your room in the morning?” you teased, fully intent on keeping this man in your bed all night and as late as you could the next morning.

“Fuck ’em.” He tenderly kissed your nose. “They ask any fucking questions, they’ll be running laps all next practice.” He paused, eyes searching yours. “So, what d’you say? Or are you trying to kick me out of here already?”

You shook your head, not bothering to hide your delight. “You stay as long as you like, Kent.”

In the morning, you rolled onto your back and found Roy, still there, already awake and gazing down at you softly.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” you huffed, tilting your head to steal a small, surprisingly natural kiss. You wondered if he always looked like this in the morning: all soft and sleepy, his hair curlier and wilder than usual, corners of his mouth tugging upwards as his eyes gazed into yours. A tentative part of you wondered if you could wake up to this view again sometime.

Roy sat up a bit, tugging you up to lay your head on his furry chest. “Oi, can I see your phone?”

Confused, you reached over to the nightstand, where you’d managed to toss your mobile at some point in the night between shags. You unlocked it and handed it to him, feeling sparks when your fingers brushed. “What’re you doing?”

He tapped away before handing it back to you. “There. You have my number now. Do me a favor and give me a heads up when you’re coming to a match.” He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Almost had a fucking heart attack yesterday when I saw you.”

“Should I not come to Richmond matches anymore?” Your fake pout had his heart stuttering; he wondered if you could feel it.

“Fuck no. I’m glad you came.” Another kiss to your hair. “Should come again sometime.”

You chuckled and wrapped an arm around his torso. “You talking about football or sex?”

“How about both?”

Before you could make some flirty comment, a buzzing came from the pile of clothes that lay across the room. With a heaving sigh, Roy clambered out of bed and fished his phone out of his jacket pocket. You stifled a giggle at the sight of him wearing nothing but the boxers he’d managed to tug on before falling sleep. Unaware of the way you were staring, he threw his head back and groaned as his mobile vibrated again.

“Gotta fucking go,” he grumbled, digging his black jeans out of the pile of clothes. “One of those pricks fell asleep in the fucking hotel kitchen, so their fucking manager has to go apologize to the staff.”

“Oh.” You sat up as you watched him pull his pants on, his handsome face full of annoyance. Suddenly, you remembered what you were wearing: his black t-shirt. You started to tug it over your head. “Oh, Roy, your-”

“Keep it.” He shrugged his leather jacket over his bare torso, not seeming to care about showing off the hair on his exposed chest. He sat down on the bed next to you and began pulling on his shoes. “Give it back to me next time, alright?”

With that, he leaned close and planted a searing kiss to your lips, one hand cupping your face with a heated mix of tenderness and desire, his mouth letting you know how much he wished he could stay. You knew this kiss would linger long after the door closed behind him.

“Next time,” you echoed against his mouth.

He nodded, smiling as he finally pulled back and stood. “Next time.”

Taglist: @hotdoglamp @daydreamgoddess14 @klaine-92 @gibby31 @anonurs

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lumi-nescentt · 7 months

Text

Rumour Has It

Part 2 - I Know What You Did Last Summer

Pairing: Jenson Button x Reader / Mark Webber x Reader

Warnings: jealousy, arguing, swearing, mention of cheating and toxic relationship overall

Words: 4.4k

Summary: After choosing Mark, you thought life would get calmer but the Australian's not who you thought he was and with Jenson still in the picture, your relationship might not survive it.

Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4

Years had gone by since Jenson had won it all and lost what he had wanted most in the same day. The Brit had tried to forget you, tried in vain to find someone else that could make his heart beat like you did.

Sadly for Jenson, your relationship with Mark had only evolved from that night in 2009 and you had now been dating for more than 4 years. Your relationship had its ups and downs but you were now living together and it solved most of your problems. Mark was no longer grumpy because he missed you too much and you were more than happy to feel so loved and wanted in your relationship.

The only clouds hovering over your relationship were how Mark was treated at work and his obsession with your friendship with Jenson. According to him, you cared too much about the Brit, gave him too much of your attention and not enough to your boyfriend, as he liked to remind you.

You had watched with the years passing as a countless number of girls hung on Jenson’s arm for a moment before he was back on his own. It had become some sort of running joke in the paddock and everyone was betting on how long Jenson’s new girl would last.

Despite always smiling and joking around, you could sense that something was going on with Jenson. When you had tried to bring it up with him, he had only told you not to worry about it before kissing your forehead and fleeing. Your constant worrying about his happiness didn’t really help the jealousy Mark was feeling but, as you liked to remind him, Jenson was his friend too so he should have been trying to help instead of being a moody git.

When Mark announced his retirement from F1, a lot of people were shocked, you included. For all of the time you spent talking to him, the Australian had never mentioned it to you. It’s not that you felt like you had something to say about it but you had thought changing career was something you’d mention to your girlfriend of 4 years before sharing it to the world.

The Australian, however, didn’t understand why you were upset, which led to one of your first big arguments.

-“ I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me.” you exhaled, trying to explain to him for the fifth time since you had gotten back to your hotel room.

-“ I told you today, just like I did with the rest of the world sweetheart.”

-“ That’s exactly my point, Mark. I learned about it at the same time as everyone else.”

-“ So ?”

-“ I’m your girlfriend, I hoped that it was a good enough reason for you to talk to me about those kinds of things.”

-“ Yeah well as my girlfriend like you said, I thought you’d be happier for me.” Mark grumbled, feeling himself starts to get more annoyed

-“ That’s not the point, you know I’m happy you’re moving on. You know damn well what I think about how you got treated so don’t pull that card on me right now.” you snapped back, pointing your finger at him “The problem here is that you don’t see why I would’ve liked to know when you were thinking about it and not once it’s a done deal.”

-“ You’re right. I don’t see why you’re upset. As far as I know, this decision concerns my career, not yours, so I don’t see what you would have brought to the conversation.”

-“ Oh for Christ’s sake Mark ! Get your head out of your arse. I’ve never forced you to do anything when it came to your career. I never criticised your work or claimed to know better than you what was good for you so you can stop taking jabs at me and just try to understand why I’m hurt.”

-“ There’s nothing to be hurt about, can you please stop making a fuss ? We have a plane to catch tomorrow and I’m tired.”

-“ Making a fuss ? Are you kidding me ?”

-“ Yes, making a fuss. You’re here cornering me in my hotel room, forcing me to have this argument with you when there’s nothing to talk about.” the Australian sighed loudly, rubbing his hand over his face

-“ Oh, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you with my feelings, Mark. I just thought I could talk about how I felt with my boyfriend but apparently not only doesn’t he want to share things with me but he also doesn’t care about how his actions have an impact on others either because all he thinks about is himself.” you snarled, feeling tears prickling at the corner of your eyes

-“ Come on sweetheart, please let’s go to bed and talk about it in the morning if you want.”

-“ Don’t call me that ! You don’t get to call me sweetheart right now when you’re making me feel like a shitty girlfriend for caring about you and your goddamn job. I only wanted you to trust me enough to confide in me and understand where I’m coming from. Apparently that’s too much to ask so no, I’m not going to bed with you.” you spat, grabbing your jacket and your purse hurriedly

-“ What are you doing y/n ?”

-“ I’m leaving, enjoy the empty bed Mark.”

-“ Don’t leave alright, I’m sorry. Come lie down for a while, you’ll feel better.” Mark tried, holding out his hand for you from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed

-“ I don’t want to be around you right now, I need you to respect that. I don’t want to say things I’ll regret and I’m tired of arguing so I need some air.”

-“ Where are you going to go ? It’s quite late.”

-“ I’ll find something. If I’m not back by the time we have to leave for the airport, I’ll meet you there.”

-“ You’re not coming back here for the night ?”

-“ I don’t know. Just don’t wait for me, alright ?”

-“ Okay” Mark paused as you made your way to the door “I love you y/n”

You didn’t bother answering, only closing the door behind you before taking a shaky breath, realising what had just happened. You had nowhere to go, your friends here were also Mark’s friends and you knew there was a big chance that he would text around to know where you were. You usually found it sweet, how much he cared about you and how much time he wanted to be around you but tonight you needed a little breathing room.

That’s how you found yourself walking around the city at night, entering in the closest bar you found. You sat yourself at the bar ordering a drink when you heard a familiar sound. You turned around, hoping you had been mistaken but no, there he was. Daniel Ricciardo, the joyful Australian that was set to replace your boyfriend.

It’s not that you didn’t want to see him, Daniel was a lovely guy after all. You had just hoped to escape the whole F1 world and seeing him only reminded you of Mark. You prayed that he wouldn’t see you or that if he did, he wouldn’t come and talk to you because you knew you looked rough. The walk you took had allowed you to let some of the frustration out and you were well aware of the smudged mascara under your eyes.

Sadly for you, Daniel’s eyes found yours and he waved before making his way over to you, quickly followed by someone else.

-“ Well if it isn’t my favourite reporter…” Daniel teased with a grin

-“ Hello Daniel, Jules.” you smiled softly at the French driver who was behind his friend

-“ Where’s the mountain of muscle you call a boyfriend, is he here ?” Daniel asked

-“ Nope.” You smirked before taking a sip of your drink

-“ I know this is probably none of my business but are you alright ? You look like hell.” Daniel tried before getting elbowed by Jules

-“ What Dan is saying is that you can talk to us if something is wrong and also if you don’t want to be alone, you can definitely stay with us until you’re sick of our shit.” Jules kindly offered

-“ That’s really kind of you. Mark and I just argued, nothing bad. I just needed some air.”

-“ Well let’s cheer you up then !” Daniel smiled before taking your hands and dragging you to where they had been sitting

That’s how you ended your night, talking and drinking with two drivers that were 7 years younger than you. In the end, they managed to make you smile and Jules had to push you into the taxi for the airport for you to actually leave them.

When Mark saw you at the airport, still wearing the same outfit as when you left and your puffy eyes, he knew he had royally fucked up. Instead of picking up the argument back from where you guys had left it or scolding you for not telling him where you were or if you were alright, he engulfed you in a hug.

You let yourself melt into his embrace as he whispered how sorry he was about how he had reacted and for not talking to you about his retirement. You were still a bit hurt but hearing him apologising felt good. On top of that, when you stepped back from the hug and saw his teary eyes, you knew holding onto the argument would hurt you both so as pained as you had been, you let the grudge go and linked your fingers with his, ready to go back home.

This fight had been the first big one and you had hoped it would have been the last one but when Mark started his endurance career, everything slowly went sour. You no longer worked together which already took a toll on your relationship but your schedules were also drastically different.

Mark was almost always away when you were home even if he didn’t have to race. You knew how important fitting in with the team was but surely spending all his free time at the Porsche factory in Stuttgart wasn’t necessary. Especially when you had a free weekend which was rare.

The physical distance started to hurt your communication as well and you barely knew what the other was doing at this point. The few times you managed to be home at the same time, you mostly argued and one of you walked out of the conversation. The smallest arguments turned big instantly. Whether it was about how you missed him, which he took as you telling him to work less or about how he thought you saw his friends more than him and got better along with them than he did nowadays.

Jenson got brought up a few times in those arguments. Mark criticising how close you two seemed whenever he tuned in on the F1 broadcast and how he thought you were being too flirty with the Brit for his liking. His jealousy got the better of him during arguments a few times and he brought up the kiss you had shared back in 2009 to make you admit that you were attracted to Jenson.

No matter how often you reminded Mark that despite kissing Jenson, you had chosen to date him, Mark wouldn’t listen. He was convinced you would eventually get with Jenson while he was away. In the end, you got tired of his accusations and whenever he brought the subject up, you didn’t answer, just nodding along until he grew tired of your silence and walked out.

When Jenson texted you in October, asking if he could stay at your place in England the next month so he could visit his family while they hosted a big get-together that had the rooms of his childhood house packed with Buttons, you knew saying yes would be playing with fire but you agreed. After all, Jenson was a friend and all he needed was a place to stay, it’s not like you were doing anything wrong, he would only come back to your place to sleep.

Deep down, you knew Mark would be angry if he heard but he would be away racing in Bahrain so what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. You knew Jenson and him barely talked anymore so the chances of him knowing about his friend’s visit were very slim. Plus, there were no chances of them seeing each other because Jenson had to be in Abu Dhabi on the 16th and Mark had to go to Stuttgart until the 18th to wrap up the season. Nothing could go wrong.

On November 11th, Jenson arrived at your door in Oxford just after dinner so you only had time to show him his room before the two of you went to bed. When you woke up the next day, the smell of breakfast tickling your nose, you froze. Was Mark back earlier than you thought ?

You made your way downstairs as quietly as possible to try and sneak a glance at the person cooking in your kitchen. The weight on your shoulder lifted when you recognised Jenson standing in front of the stove, happily whistling while he cooked.

-“ I didn’t know you could cook…” you teased, making the Brit turn around with a smile as you leaned against the kitchen counter behind him

-“ What can I say, there’s more to me than my handsome face and muscular body…”

-“ I’m glad you didn’t mention your incredible brain, I would have hated to be the one to ruin your illusion.”

-“ If I had known you’d be this mean I wouldn’t have made French toast but I guess I could keep it all to myself…” Jenson feigned offence

-“ Nooo, please Jenson. That’s my favourite breakfast, I’m sorry.” you whined which only made Jenson’s smile bigger

-“ I know, that’s why I made it.”

-“ How ?”

-“ You told me once, I just remembered that’s all…”

-“ I really don’t remember, when was that ?”

-“ If I’m not mistaken it was 2010 at Silverstone.” he shrugged

-“ That’s 4 years ago, there’s no way you still remember something I told you once.”

-“ What can I say, love ? I do listen when you talk. Now let’s eat while it’s warm so go sit.”

-“ Oh so you’re letting me have the breakfast you cooked with my food ?”

-“ Sit down and eat before I change my mind and shove the whole plate in my mouth.”

-“ You’re so dramatic.” you muttered before following him to the dining room

The rest of your day went on normally, Jenson was off to see his grandparents for the day while you just started working on some stuff you had put off and answered some emails.

Deciding to enjoy the fact that it had stopped raining, you got dressed in your sports clothes and headed out for a run, only to return an hour later. You had managed to avoid the rain for most of your workout but it had started pouring while you were still 10 minutes away from your house. Clearly in need of a warm shower and dry clothes, you turned in your driveway, seeing Jenson’s car.

You made your way upstairs, trying to walk as little as possible to avoid soaking the whole floor. The door to Jenson’s room was half-opened but you still knocked, waiting for an answer before you entered. Jenson looked up from where he was sitting on the bed, a book on his lap and glasses on his nose. You couldn’t help but stare at him for a second before coming back to your senses.

-“ Do you need me for anything or did you just come to enjoy the view ?” he teased, not missing the blush creeping on your face when you got caught

-“ I just needed to grab some clothes, get over yourself.”

-“ Do you really have so many clothes that it doesn’t fit your shared dressing room with Mark ?” he joked, getting up to stand next to you

-“ No, that’s not it. Can you please move so I can get what I came in here for ?”

-“ I don’t believe you, I’m sure the closet is overflowing. I’ll go see for myself and prove that you’re a terrible liar !” he said, making his way towards the bedroom you had been sleeping in before getting stopped by your hand on his arm

-“ Jenson please.” you almost whispered, making the Brit turn around, seeing the pained look on your face

-“ What’s going on, y/n ? You know you can talk to me.”

-“ I know. It’s really nothing, don’t worry about it.” you tried to brush it off

-“ If it’s nothing, tell me about it then.” he tried again, sitting back on the bed as you rested your hip against the dresser

-“ I just leave most of my clothes here so I don’t have to go into the bedroom.”

-“ Why wouldn’t you want to go into your own room, I don’t understand. Isn’t it less convenient to sleep in one room and have to go in another to grab some clothes ?”

-“ I don’t sleep in there often.” you confessed, looking at your feet

-“ I thought the big room was the room you two shared ?”

-“ It’s Mark’s room.”

-“ Then it must be yours too, no ?” Jenson tried to wrap his head around what you were telling him as you shook your head

-“ This is my room, this is why my clothes are in there…”

-“ And here I thought Mark couldn’t breathe without having some part of him touching you.” Jenson started to laugh but the sound died in his throat when he heard you sniffle “ Oh God. I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry love. I had no idea things weren’t going well between you two. Here I am joking about it, what a tosser.”

-“ It’s okay, you didn’t know.” you breathed sharply as he stood up and wrapped his arms around you “ You’re going to get soaked…”

-“ It’s okay, that’ll make two of us.” he paused, suddenly unsure of what to say “Do you want to talk about it ?”

-“ I don’t know, maybe.” you confessed, a shiver making your entire body shake

-“ Why don’t you take a warm shower while I make us dinner and we can talk about it over a glass of wine and a warm meal ?”

-“ That sounds really nice but I don’t want to bother you. You’re supposed to be my guest.”

-“ Let me do this for you, y/n, please.”

-“ If you insist. Just don’t burn my kitchen please.” you finally teased before grabbing a change of clothes and heading in the bathroom

Jenson stood in the room for a few minutes, still in shock, before he finally snapped out of it and made his way to the kitchen. He looked through the pantries and the fridge, trying to find something to cook on his own before giving up and pressing the call button on his phone.

When you emerged from the shower an hour later, you could hear Jenson talking on the phone. Not wanting to bother him, you quietly made your way to the kitchen and sat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen island. The noise made Jenson turn around and he couldn’t help the smile that erupted when he saw how relaxed you look.

-“ Thank you, Ma. I have to go but I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jenson waved before hanging up the video call

-“ Your mom seems nice.”

-“ She really is. Nice enough to pick up and help me cook something decent.”

-“ I’m not a picky eater, I would’ve been fine with some leftovers I have in the freezer, you know ?”

-“ I know, I just wanted to make something nice and reheating something didn’t mean the same thing as actually cooking.”

-“ What did you make then Gordon Ramsay ?”

-“ Don’t get your hopes up, I just made cottage pie.” Jenson laughed before you almost launched yourself in his arms, wrapping your arms around his waist. “ If I had known cooking for you was the way to get you to hug me like that, I would’ve done it earlier.”

-“ Don’t ruin the moment, Jense.”

-“ Sorry.”

-“ Thank you.”

-“ It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

-“ Still, thank you for being here.”

Before he could add something else, you had slipped from his embrace and started setting the table for the two of you. Jenson didn’t push you to talk and instead just helped you silently, reaching for the wine glasses that were out of your reach anc checking on the pie that was just done cooking.

Once everything was ready, the two of you sat down at the table and he let you bring up whatever topic you wanted to talk about. He could tell you were nervous to talk about the elephant in the room. You weren’t really looking at him directly and you kept drinking wine to try to relax.

Once you had reached dessert, Jenson finally brought it up again. He couldn’t help but notice the way you tensed and dropped your spoon a little hard before motioning for him to follow you in the living room instead.

You sat at one end of the couch as he sat on the opposite end, trying in vain to make you look at him but you couldn’t. You knew that the instant you started talking and saw his face, you’d be crying again and you had way too much to talk about.

You took a deep breath before you finally opened your mouth to speak. You and Mark had gone to Australia for the summer break before he had to start training again like you always had since you had been dating. You had planned on staying a week at his parents’ house so he could see them and his sister at the same time.

You usually loved seeing the Webbers, they were extremely kind to you and his sister Leanne absolutely loved having you around because you made Mark a little more bearable, her words not yours. However this year, the argument about Mark’s retirement still hung over your heads and you could tell that it was starting to keep you apart.

Once you were settled in, Mark went out on his own for a few hours to clear his head. You had found it weird but since it was the first time you hadn’t asked anything. When he left at the same time the next day and the day after, always leaving for a few hours without telling anyone, you started asking him questions only to be answered with dry comments about how it wasn’t your business.

On the fourth day, you had finally snapped and the two of you had started arguing which had ended with him walking out while you cried in your shared bedroom. Alerted by the noise, Leanne had came to check on you and you didn’t have to explain what had happened because the screaming match had been heard from the living room where she had been standing with her dad.

You didn’t expect her to pick a side in the fight or to defend you and confront Mark but just like she had heard your argument, you had heard your boyfriend being scolded by his older sister.

Mark obviously didn’t like that and as soon as his sister went back home and his parents went for a walk, he was back in your room to argue again. He didn’t even flinch when you started crying in front of him or when you called his sister to ask if you could stay at her place for the night.

Two days later when Mark went out again, Leanne convinced you to go with her to try and see where he escaped to everyday. You had parked on the opposite side of the road from where Mark was sitting in a coffee shop apparently waiting for someone. You had zoned out, checking your phone out of boredom when Leanne had inhaled sharply before cursing her brother.

The insult made you look up and you watched as Mark kissed someone else. You blinked, hoping you had imagined it but when you opened your eyes again Mark was still kissing her. It took you a few more seconds to realise that the woman he was kissing wasn’t a stranger but actually his manager.

You had to stop Leanne from getting out of the car and catching him red handed. You made her promise not to tell anyone and for once, the very talkative Australian just nodded and brought you back to her parents’ place without a word.

Mark still had no idea you knew about his affair and you didn’t plan on telling him which bothered Jenson. How could Mark not know when you weren’t even sleeping in the same room anymore. You just shrugged and explained that with how often you two were fighting, it didn’t seem odd.

The thought that his friend could do this to you made his blood boil and he really didn’t understand why you didn’t leave him. When he asked you, you admitted that Mark was all you knew and you barely saw him anymore anyway so you clung onto the small parts of normality you could: your house, the habits you had here and even though it pained you, the memories of the good times with Mark.

Once you were done talking, you finally looked up and as soon as Jenson saw your tear-stained cheeks, he brought you closer to him. Your head nestled against his shoulder as he rubbed his hand up and down your arm, trying to comfort you. You must have fallen asleep against him because when you opened your eyes again, you were tucked in your bed and the sun was starting to shine brightly despite the November cold.

Jenson was already gone so you didn’t even get to thank him right away. When he came back, he just shrugged it off and placed a kiss on the top of your head before going to take a shower. To you it seemed like everything was back to normal between you but Jenson had promised himself he’d try to convince you to leave Mark before he left. Or at least to bring back a genuine smile on your face for good, no matter what it took.

#mark webber x reader #jenson button x reader #mark webber #jenson button #f1 #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 scenario #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n

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puppy-steve · 2 months

Text

march fic rec

a monthly fic rec series to help me work through my tbr

this month i kind of shifted all of my attention on gathering all of my tbr fics and getting them more organized, so i kind of slacked on reading. but yall get a little treat, bc this one is mostly smut 👀

<- february -> april ▸ more fic recs ▸ my ao3

Ecstatic Rituals - E, series, WIP StarsHideYourFires

tags: ancient rome au, omegaverse, ritual sex, alpha eddie, omega steve, orgy, bitching, induced heat, breeding kink

A set of AUs with one thing in common: ritual sex.

just the tip - E, 4.4k, complete twelvexclara

tags: transmasc steve, established relationship, frotting, first time bottoming

The words spill from his mouth before he even realizes he’s saying them. “You can rub against it,” he blurts out. He sucks in a breath, arms tightening around Eddie as the man stiffens against him. “I mean—you can rub against me, not it,” Steve stutters nervously, averting eye contact. Staring at the dumb fucking movie that’s still playing. Steve Harrington has never let anyone fuck him. That all changes during a movie night with Eddie Munson.

Everything and More - G, complete @steviewashere

tags: domestic fluff, 90s steddie, backyard wedding, steddielovemonth

Eddie drags his hand up to Steve’s scalp, dully scratching the way he knows he likes. “Okay, I’ll indulge,” he mutters. “If we could have a wedding, what would you want it to look like?” The smile to his bare shoulder is enough to know that it was a good question.

love is stored in a can of hairspray - T, 3.1k, complete @steveseddie | mseg_21

tags: pining, first kiss, getting together

In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about the money or how it might look to Steve that he knew what hair products he uses or that he drove to another town to get them. He was only thinking about Steve’s defeated look every time someone stared at his hair or commented on it, how he self-consciously tried to fix it at work every time a customer came in, how when they hung out at his house he would hide his hair under the hood of a sweater. But now, parked in front of Steve’s house an hour before their movie night, Eddie does think about what he did- and he seriously considers leaving the bag on Steve’s doorstep and fleeing. It’s too much. It’s too ‘I have a big crush on you and I want you to be happy so bad that I drove to another town and raided the Hair and Beauty section at a store just so you can stop walking around looking like a kicked puppy’. for the prompt “love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy”

sweet little thing - E, 6/6, complete @ghosttotheparty

tags: modern au, college au, frat steve, friends with benefits, gay steve, southern eddie, autistic steve, light angst

“Steve,” Eddie repeats softly. Steve’s eyes look into his, shining like he’s already there, like he’s already floating. “If you want something, you gotta ask for it.” Steve’s eyes flutter, and he looks like he wants to let out a whine, glancing across Eddie’s face again like he’s forgotten where they are. “Fuck me,” he says weakly, and the words crawl under Eddie’s skin like they belong there. “Please. Will you please fuck me?” // or; Steve and Eddie start hooking up and it makes them both happier than it should.

Found God In A Tomato - M, 5.7k, complete @beetlesandstarss

tags: modern au, wrong number trope, falling in love

“You’re gonna think I’m insane," he says, instantly piquing Eddie's interest. “Try me.” Biting his lip, Steve reaches over and takes Eddie’s hand. He slips one of Eddie’s rings off, the plainest one, and holds it between two fingers. For a second, Eddie thinks Steve’s just gonna— put it on. Or hold his hand. Both options are appealing. But then, clearing his throat, his face changes from smug to earnest. “Eddie,” he says, a little louder than necessary. “Will you marry me?” Eddie’s jaw drops.

unexpected shelter (December 20, 1985, 4:52 p.m.) - T, 3.3k, complete @loveinhawkins

tags: eddie pov, character study, platonic stobin, missing scene

It’s the last day of school before Christmas, and the first thing Eddie hears when he enters Family Video is Steve Harrington saying, “Fuck this,” which seems kinda unreasonable; he’s not even done anything yet.

Lovesick - T, 3.1k, complete @lady-lostmind

tags: sick eddie, fluff, hurt/comfort

Eddie rolls over with a groan. He feels awful. He can’t breath out of his nose, there’s so much pressure in his head he feels like it might explode and his throat feels like he swallowed a cup of razors. He lets out a truly pathetic whimper, the sound catching in his throat as it turns into a cough. He stretches his arm out, feeling around for Steve and is met with cold, empty sheets. He whines again and finally pries his eyes open. “Stevie?”

(Just Hold me Baby) And I'm in Ecstasy - E, 2.7k, complete odderstuff

tags: dom bottom eddie, sub top steve, praise kink, breeding kink, mommy kink, friends with benefits

Eddie looks Steve up and down thoughtfully. He's flushed, cheeks turned a pretty shade of pinkish red. His eyes are a little glossy, sparklier than usual and a thin sheen of sweat is forming across his hairline. His breathing has changed, just a bit; a little shallower, a little quicker, a little hitched. He's none too subtly shifted, so that the blanket is fully covering his lap. It's a lightbulb moment for Eddie, and he grins wide when he realizes. "Oh my God. This is like a thing for you, isn't it?" _ Or: discovering one of Steve's kinks leads Eddie to some discoveries of his own.

a new kind of pretty - E, 3.5k, complete

streaksofviolet streaksofviolet

tags: established relationship, praise kink, pet names, steve in panties, top eddie, bottom steve

“They still had the tags on. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking sexy you’d look in them, baby.” He punctuates the end of his sentence with a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Oh,” Steve practically gasps, the sound punched out of him involuntarily. “Oh.” And there’s that confusing arousal again. Or: Steve and Eddie try something new.

Is That A Tent In Your Pants, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me? - E, 10.9k, complete @beetlesandstarss

tags: enemies to lovers, gay steve, forced proximity, resolved sexual tension, tent sex

Eddie eyeballs him. “You want me to get naked?” “You'll get pneumonia,” Steve says, leaning towards desperate. Fuck, Robin will actually kill him if Eddie dies out here. “I’m fine.” “This is not fine, Eddie,” Steve insists. “You’ll see my dick,” Eddie hisses. “I’m not gonna look at your stupid dick, man.” “My stupid dick? Why is it stupid?” (Or, Steve and Eddie are coerced into going camping together.)

Daisies - T, 2.8k, complete @withacapitalp | towardthesun

tags: hanahaki disease, established relationship, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort

He hacked out a few more harsh sounding noises, before he spat into his open palm, taking a relieved breath as whatever was lodged in his throat came out. Eddie would’ve been relieved too, confused, but okay now that Steve was safe. And then he saw what was in Steve’s hand. A daisy. Steve had just coughed up a fucking daisy. And, judging by the completely blasé expression he had on his face as he looked down at it, this wasn’t the first time. ====== When Steve wakes up choking on flowers, Eddie thinks that it might be the end. It turns out to be just the beginning.

I've Got a Tongue Like a Razor, a Sweet Switchblade Knife - E, 2.7k, complete BuwnyBeely

tags: cockwarming, dom eddie, sub steve, dry humping, babygirl steve

Steve Harrington likes long sessions, and likes to be /used/. He'll take anything he can get. or "No, no please. Don't stop Eds, need more. Need to be full."

Bloody Knuckles - M, 4.5k, complete sage_is_soup

tags: blood kink, dry humping, bratting, praise kink, spit kink, eddie gets into a fist fight (and wins)

A phone call from Dustin leaves Steve racing to Hawkins High. Eddie Munson is in a fist fight. He'd intended to be there as support, but when things get bloody? Steve finds his thoughts leading him astray.

Strip... Flash Cards? Yeah... - E, 4.8k, complete L0udmouth

tags: sexual tension, voice kink, dry humping, stripping, teasing, top eddie, bottom steve, virgin eddie munson

Eddie's bad at studying, Steve's a horny idiot, and horny studying antics ensue.

chronically sweet - E, 3.2k, complete babyknives

tags: drug use, voyeurism, belly bulge, chrissy cunningham is a size queen

Chrissy had thought she’d known what love was. Had grown up watching her parents exchange pleasantries across the dinner table, in the entryway when her father would leave for work. A chaste kiss on the cheek, a gentle hand at the small of her mother’s back. Quiet respect, dignity, poise. Love was something shown only in small glimpses, tiny moments. Never in public. Between a couple and the good Lord. Until she met the boys.

rocket queen - E, 5.8k, complete @strangersatellites

tags: guns n' roses au, exhibitionism, top eddie, bottom steve, rockstar eddie

Steve breaks up with his shitbag drummer not-boyfriend and fucks his frontman in the studio with the mics on.

Off the Court On the Stage - E, 7.2k, complete @stevesjockstrap

tags: basketball player steve, rockstar eddie, modern au, bottom steve, top eddie, pet names, praise kink

Basketball player Steve walks into the wrong room but it works out in the end.

Idiot - G, complete @stevebabey

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

His eyes glance across to Eddie’s van, parked beside his own car, outside the trailer home in Forest Hills. Then he looks back at the trailer. He can ask. He can just go inside and ask Eddie for the lift— and explain that the reason he can’t take his own perfectly fine car is because he’s so goddamn thick between the ears that he’s locked his keys inside, like some kind of moron. The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like his father.

Eternal zero - T, 3.6k, complete @loveinhawkins

tags: canon compliant, pre-relationship, s4 missing scene, survivor's guilt

“Woah, man, take it easy—” “M’fine,” Eddie mutters. He scoffs harshly, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s shaking. “This is kinda normal for me now.” His head’s still half bowed, hair falling across his face like he doesn’t want to be seen. It doesn’t stop Steve from noticing the evidence of tears on his face; he thinks they’re simply from the exertion of throwing up, but he can’t be sure. “Just—just give yourself a minute,” Steve says. “We’ve got time.”

#cj talks #fic rec #steddie fic rec #march fic rec #steddie #steve x eddie

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mamaestapa · 1 year

Text

Joeys Got a Plan

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/N Y/L/N moved to Cincinnati, Ohio for a new start. Move in day arrives and she discovers something terrible...the apartment complex gave her the wrong lease. Instead of living with who she originally was supposed to, she's now living with the hottest quarterback in the NFL, Joe Burrow. Y/N is stuck living in the same apartment with him for a year...which the two are not thrilled about. However, as time goes on, they realize that maybe this wasn't the worst thing that could happen to them. Will Y/N and Joe stay enemies, or will they find themselves falling in love?

•chapter summary: Joe comes up with a plan to get Jake away from you…but does it work?

•word count: 4.4k

•warnings: language, fluff, angst, jealous Joe, um a very hot Joe after the gym, i think that’s all?

series masterlist

——————————————————

January 13-14, 2023

"Here let me help you," you chuckled, standing from the couch and helping Emma up from her seated position. She cradled her bump as she stood, letting out a sigh of relief as you helped her stand.

"Thank you Y/n," she smiled gratefully, "I can't get off the couch by myself these days."

You and Macee smiled at her as she said that. You were having the girls over to the apartment today for one last get together before Emma gives birth to baby girl Hubbard.

Not much has happened since Christmas. Joe went to Athens for a few days while you stayed in Cincinnati. The regular season has come to an end and the Bengals are in the playoffs. They're playing the Baltimore Ravens in the wild card round, so that should be a good game. Oh and, you’re talking to someone.

Crazy right!? After your fling with Evan, you didn't think you’d talk to anyone for a while. You wanted to get settled in and live in Cincinnati for a while before you looked for a relationship.

But Jake came into your life and changed your mind.

You met Jake the day Joe left Cincinnati for a couple days to celebrate Christmas with his family. You were at work with Macee, the two of you leaving to take your lunch break when you ran into Jake at the sandwich shop across the street. The two of you started talking and one thing led to another, so you exchanged numbers and went out on a date the next day. He's a very nice guy and he's extremely attractive. You’ve only known Jake for a couple weeks and you can already tell if you guys can make it work, you’ll be a great couple. That is, if you become a couple. There's an issue.

The issue being...Jake has asked you to be his girlfriend. You wanted to say yes, but deep down you knew you couldn't. Something inside of you told you to wait just a little longer and see how you feel. While you do like Jake, you also have these feelings about someone else that you just can't seem to shake. But you’ll get into that another day.

You and the girls were in the kitchen getting drinks, mocktails of course since Emma can't drink, when the door to the apartment opened. In walked Joe and Logan, the two of them coming back from morning meetings.

"Hey babe." Macee grinned, walking over to Logan and greeting him at the door with a hug and a peck to the cheek.

"Hi gorgeous," he smiled sweetly, wrapping his arms around her body and giving her butt a quick pat.

"Logan!" Macee laughed, "not here."

Logan just snickered and planted a kiss on on Macee's cheek.

"Fine, I guess I can save it for later."

"Good." She said with a wink. Macee walked back into the kitchen and held up the pitcher to the guys, "you two want a mock tail?"

"Sure." Logan said as he took his shoes off, Joe doing the same thing.

"Joe?" Macee asked.

He shrugged, "Yeah I'll take one."

Logan leaned against the counter, watching as Macee poured him a glass. Joe walked into the kitchen and greeted the three of you. He sees you on a daily basis, but he doesn't see the girls very often. He hugged Macee first, and then attempted to hug Emma. Emma is almost nine months pregnant, so it's pretty hard to hug her nowadays. Joe just gave her a quick side hug, chuckling as he pulled away from her.

"It's tough with baby girl in the way."

Emma smiled, "Yeah well, she'll be here soon."

"I cant wait to meet her," Macee gushed, pushing her bottom lip out.

"Me too," you nodded, "I love babies."

Emma chuckled, as she walked further into the kitchen. You all watched in amusement as her walk was more like a waddle.

She sighed, "It sounds like you two have some bad baby fever right now."

"Maybe a little bit." Macee shrugged, a small smile making its way onto her face as she looked at Logan, who was shaking his head.

The two of them would be the best parents.

Joe chuckled as he watched Emma come to stand next to you by the dishwasher.

"What?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

"Emma. She kind of looks like a penguin when she walks."

Logan laughed, a smile on his face as he said, "She does, doesn't she? We have to tell Sam."

You smiled, "Well you're a cute penguin, Em."

"I agree," Macee replied, nodding in agreement. Emma smiled and shook her head at your comments. You can only imagine what it's like to carry around that precious cargo for the last nine months. Getting around isn't easy, especially when it comes to walking.

"You know," Emma said, "you're laughing now, but this is what your future wife will look like some day when she's carrying your baby, Joe. So just remember that." She finished with a chuckle. Joe smiled softly at her words. You swore you saw his eyes glance down to your belly before he quickly brought his gaze back up to Emma. You didn't think much of it, assuming it was just an involuntary gesture.

Because you’re sure there's no way Joe Burrow would ever think that way about you…right?

You decided to shrug it off and change the subject.

"How'd your meeting go?"

"Same old, same old." Joe said with a shrug, "just preparing for the first playoff game of the season."

"I know you guys will do great." Macee said with a smile as she took a sip from her glass. You nodded in agreement, giving Joe a small smile.

The Ravens are a tough team to play, especially when they're healthy. However, Lamar Jackson is expected to be out again this week so hopefully that's an advantage for the Bengals.

For about the next twenty minutes, the five of you drank your mock tails and made conversation, all of you enjoying eachothers company. You and Joe didn't have your friends over to the apartment often, but when you did it was always a good time. Macee and Logan left together, the two of them leaving so they could get ready for their date tonight after Logan got out of practice. Emma left shortly after they did, saying that her and Sam needed to do some last minute work on the nursery since her due date was quickly approaching. So that just left you and Joe. You haven't told him that you’re having Jake over later, so you figure you should probably do that...

Joe's pov:

Y/n cleared her throat, causing me to give all of my attention to her. She smiled softly as she looked into my eyes and said, "I hope you don't mind, but I'm having Jake over later," a slight blush rose to her cheeks as she said, "so maybe you can..."

I nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I'll stay out of your hair."

She raised and eyebrow, "Promise?"

I gave her a tight lipped smile as I nodded, "Promise."

"Thanks Joe." She left the kitchen and went off to her room. I assumed she was going to get herself ready for her night with Jake.

Jake.

Jake that Y/n has been talking to since Christmas. Jake that Y/n is so infatuated with. Jake that is only with Y/n for one thing and one thing only. Jake that tall, stupid, pretty boy douchebag with not a single thought behind his eyes. Jake the guy that I've never met...but loathe so much.

I want nothing more than for Y/n to be happy. She deserves the best, and I know that Jake isn't the best for her. Evan and Sam told me they met him a couple days ago, and they didn't have many good things to say about the guy. He seems to be putting on a fake persona when He's around Y/n. If that's the case, I would hate to see her get her heart broken by him. She deserves to be happy and loved by someone that sees her as if she was the only girl in the world.

Not someone like Jake

I know have to do something about this. I have to get Jake away from Y/n.

I let out a sigh as I tossed alright ideas of what I could do to get them away from each other. I know I promised her I would stay out of her hair tonight, but I need to make sure Jake stays away from Y/n. As I was thinking of ideas, a smirk rose to my face as I figured out the best way to get him away from her. I hope she can understand and forgive me for what I am about to do...

Joey's got a plan ladies and gentlemen. I just hope it's the right one...

~time skip~

You were fixing you hair in the bathroom when you heard a knock at the front door. Jake was finally here and you couldn't wait to see him. You shut the light to the bathroom off and walked to the front door, opening the door and greeting Jake with a sweet smile.

"Hi beautiful," he grinned, holding his arms out for you to put yourself in to. Your smile widened as you walked into his embrace, your arms wrapping around Jakes tall frame. His muscular arms wrapped around your body, squeezing you gently. He pulled away, a grin still on his face.

"What does my girl have planned for us today?"

Your smile faltered slightly as you felt your heart drop. My girl. You really like Jake, but something almost didn't feel right. You should feel giddy about Jake calling you his girl. But you don't.

"Y/n?"

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and smiled up at him, "Sorry," you laughed, "I just, I was just thinking about what I have planned."

Jake smiled kindly and rubbed your bicep, his thumb slowly brushing against your soft skin. You glanced down at your arm and watched his fingertips move against your skin.

"So what do you have planned?" You looked back up at Jake, who was looking down at you expectedly.

"Movies?"

Jake smiled and walked further into the apartment, closing the door behind him, "Sounds perfect to me."

He grabbed your hand and brought the two of you over to the couch. He sat down in Joe's usual spot while you sat down right next to him. It felt weird seeing someone else sit in Joe's spot. You grabbed the remote from the coffee table and handed it to Jake.

He raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I get to pick?"

You nodded, "Anything you want."

He smiled and opened Paramount Plus, turning on Top Gun: Maverick.

"Good choice." you said, smiling up at Jake.

He chuckled and leaned back against the cushion, draping an arm around the back of the couch, his hand resting on your shoulder as the two of you began to watch the movie.

"Thanks sweets."

Sweets. That's what Joe calls you. It's sort of weird to hear someone else call you that...it is just a "pet name" though. I guess anybody can use it, not just Joe, you think to yourself.

You got to the part of the movie where Maverick is discussing the mission with the other pilots when you looked up at Jake and hummed. He looked down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, "What?"

"You kind of look like Hangman."

He chuckled, "I do not."

You sat up and turned your body towards him, cocking your head to the side slightly as you looked at his features.

"Hmm," you glanced at the screen and then back at him, "you actually look like you could be his twin." A playful smile appearing on your face as you leaned back against the couch. Jake just chuckled and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side. The two of you brought your attention back to the movie, until the sound of the door unlocking made both of you sit up.

I thought Joe said he'd stay out of my hair for the day?! You thought. Maybe it's Macee? She does have a key to the apartment...

The door opened and in walked Joe. His dark blonde hair was damp with sweat and his white compression shirt clung to his sweaty body. The dampness of the shirt allowing just a faint outline of his abdomen muscles to be seen. And the muscles of his biceps and forearms were extremely prominent from the compression of the short sleeves. You couldn't help but notice the veins in his hands and arms bulging, especially the one running all the way up his arm, from the strenuous exercise he had just finished.

Your lips were parted and you couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him. Joe set his shaker bottle down on the counter and looked at you, a smirk growing on his face as he saw you watching him. He winked at you, which shook you out of your thoughts. A blush rose to your cheeks as you averted your gaze away from him. You looked over at Jake and saw his jaw dropped open as he looked at Joe. He was speechless. Joe walked into the living room and stood in front of you and Jake. Jake turned to you and shook his head, still in shock from seeing Joe Burrow walk into your apartment.

"Why is Joe Burrow in your apartment?" He asked, pointing at Joe.

"Oh he's just," you looked up Joe and bit your lip, trying to think of what to say, "he's my roommates boyfriend."

Joe nodded, "I'm going to shower real quick," he said, as he walked into the bathroom. He leaned against the doorway as he said, "then I'll be out of your hair, Y/n." he shut the door and the sound of the lock clicking was heard.

You felt bad for acting like Joe wasn't your roommate or your friend, but Jake doesn't need to know that you live with him. Not yet at least.

Jake nodded and laid back against the couch, "Well, that's pretty cool."

"Yeah..." you said quietly, a hesitant tone to your voice as you spoke. You sat back against the couch and turned your attention back to the movie.

You couldn't figure out why Joe was back at the apartment. He knew you were having Jake over and he promised he wouldn't be here when Jake was here. Maybe he just forgot your conversation from earlier? Unless, maybe he's trying to get Jake to leave...but in all seriousness, you highly doubt Joe would pull something like that.

About twenty minutes later, the door to the bathroom opened up. Jake turned his head to look, seeing steam come out of the door and something, or more like someone else.

"Oh." He said, eyebrows raised in shock. You looked up at Jake and furrowed your brows in confusion, "What?" you asked, sitting up and turning your body to see what he was looking at. Your eyes widened as you saw what Jake was staring at.

Joe was standing in the hallway with a towel wrapped around his waist, hanging just low enough so you could see the outline of the top of his v line, along with the slight, blonde happy trail that started at his belly button and made its way down his lower belly.

Your eyes widened. Is it getting hot in here? because I'm feeling a little flushed...Oh my go-. Your thoughts were cut off by Joe speaking.

"Babe, do you know where my gray jeans are?"

WHAT!? Babe?! Your eyes widened even more.

Joe looked into the bathroom and came back out holding them up, "Found 'em. Sorry sweets."

You glanced over at Jake to see how he was reacting to this. His jaw clenched as he stood up from the couch. You sucked in a breath as you watched him start to walk. You thought for sure he was going to walk over to the bathroom and deck Joe. However, he didn't walk to the bathroom. He walked to the front door instead. You frowned and got up from the couch, watching Jake grab his brown leather jacket and put it on.

"Jake-."

He cut you off, "Y/n," he sighed, "you're a sweet girl, but I don't think this is going to work. You've clearly got some sort of connection with Joe and I won't want to mess that up."

You shook your head, "I don't-."

Jake reached out and squeezed your hand, "Quit denying it, you do. This, us, it's not going to work because of that."

You searched his green eyes for a better answer, but you got nothing. Maybe Jake is right...

He let go of your hand and gave you a small smile before he walked out the door without another word. You just stood by the door with so many thoughts running through your head.

What am I denying?

Why did Joe do that to me?

What am I even feeling at this point?

Is Jake right about Joe and I?

So many thoughts. So many emotions. So many questions—and not a single one you had an answer to.

You turned around and looked at Joe, frowning as you made eye contact with him.

"Why would you do that?" youbasked quietly.

Joe frowned, "Y/n, you have to understand-."

You shook your head in disbelief. You didn't even want to hear what he had to say right now. Too many emotions were taking over at the moment.

"I don't want to understand, Joe."

You started to walk away from the living room. You felt your heart break as Joe desperately tried to explain himself to you as he followed you to your room.

"Y/n, please," he said shakily, "just let me explain myself."

"No." you said sternly, struggling to hold back tears as you closed the door in his face and locked it so he couldn't come in. You let out a shaky sigh as you sat down on your bed. You heard a heavy sigh come from outside your door before you heard his footsteps, signaling that Joe left. You looked at your door and frowned. Maybe you were too harsh with Joe, but you just can't believe he would do something like that. Jake really did make you happy, even if he had his moments where he wasn't the greatest...

You thought Joe would be happy that you found someone. You know you would be happy for him if he found someone. Well, maybe you’d be a little jealous, but that's only because you’ve been living with him for so long. Yeah, that's definitely it. Maybe that's how he felt with Jake? You got up from your bed and let out a sigh. You walked over to your door, sliding down against the door before sitting down on the carpet. You leaned against the wooden door and closed your eyes, letting your thoughts run wild once again.

Little did you know, Joe was doing the exact same thing on the other side of your door.

~the next day~

You got out of bed and rubbed your tired eyes. I you didn't sleep well at all last night. Your mind kept you awake most of the night. You thought you’d be thinking about Jake, but instead the only person on my mind was Joe.

You need to talk to him about yesterday.

You opened your bedroom door, eyes widening as you were suddenly looking right into the center of Joes chest. You were definitely not expecting to see him standing there. He was holding a tray with french toast, fruit, coffee and orange juice in one hand, while his free hand was out in front of him to knock on your bedroom door. He brought his hand down and smiled softly at you, "I was going to bring this to you as a surprise, but I guess that's ruined."

You felt your heart swell as you looked up into Joes beautiful blue eyes. His gaze was soft and his smile was comforting. You gave him a small smile before looking down at the tray in his hands.

"You didn't have to do this."

"Yes I did, Y/n."

You just looked into his eyes once again, your lips forming a straight line. Joe's lips formed a slight frown as he looked down at the tray and back at you.

He cleared his throat before saying, "Can we talk?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I'd like that."

Joe just nodded and you both walked down the hallway to the dining and living room. He set the tray down on the table and pulled the chair out, motioning for you to sit down. You thanked him quietly before sitting down. You pushed the chair in as Joe sat down across from you. You picked up the coffee cup and took a sip. A small smile pulled at your lips as you tasted the hot liquid. It was prepared just how you liked it.

"Is it OK?" Joe asked, looking at you hesitantly.

You nodded, "Perfect."

"Good," he said, softly.

You sat in silence for a moment before youbdecided to speak up and break the silence.

"Why did you do that? With Jake?"

Joe let out a sigh and frowned as he listened to what you had to say.

"I only knew him for a couple weeks, but he made me happy. I thought you would be happy that I found someone like that, and it just," you sighed, "it just seemed like you were trying to get him away from me. Why?"

Joe rubbed his palms against his shorts and took a deep breath. You waited anxiously to hear what he had to say.

"I wish I could tell you," he frowned, "but I don't want to ruin things any more than I already have."

You shook your head, "You haven't ruined anything." you said softly as you reached out to touch his hand that was laying on the table, "Joe, please tell me." you pleaded, just wanting to hear the truth from him.

"I-." he shook his head, stopping himself from continuing. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

"I heard from Evan and Sam that Jake isn't a good guy. They met him and said he acts completely different around you, almost like he puts up a front around you."

You sighed and nodded your head slowly. It was true, although you thought Jake was sweet and you really did like him, you knew he had two different sides to him. You cant say the real reason you stayed with Jake. You know everyone would think you’re crazy for thinking Jake would make someone jealous...

Joe continued, "So I knew I had to do something. I couldn't just talk to him, so I scared him off. Made him think I was in love with you or something."

You smiled softly and let out a faint laugh at his words. Your reaction made Joe chuckle.

"I'm a little hurt," You said. Joe nodded in response as you continued talking, "but I see why you did it. You were just looking out for me, and I really appreciate that."

Joe smiled, "Anything for you Y/n. I want the best for you, really."

You felt your face flush and your heart sink to your stomach—in a good way. In a butterflies in your tummy kind of way. Something you’ve always felt around Joe, but decided to ignore.

You smiled appreciatively, your voice soft, "Thank you Joe."

Joe nodded and stood up from his chair, slowly walking over to your side of the table. You stood from your chair and met him halfway, wrapping your arms around him. He squeezed you gently before pulling away and looking down at you with a soft gaze.

"Are we good?" He asked, genuinely.

You nodded, "Yeah, we're good."

He smiled, "Good. I'm glad."

Joe stepped away from you and went into his bedroom momentarily, coming back out and holding his gym bag and keys.

"I'm going to head to practice. You," he pointed to the table, "enjoy your breakfast. I made it just for you." He winked, a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You chuckled softly, "I will."

He smiled and walked over to the entryway, getting ready to open the door and leave when he stopped himself.

"Oh and Y/n?"

You turned around, "Yeah?"

"Our game is home tomorrow. I've got a couple tickets, and I'd love it if you were there." He smiled softly at you before he turned back around and left, locking the door behind him.

There were those butterflies again. You couldn't help the blush that rose to your cheeks and the smile that appeared on your face as he said those words. You don't know what exactly it is that you’re feeling...but you do know that you’re feeling something you haven't felt in a while. More specifically, Joe makes you feel something you haven't felt in a while. You never really got butterflies with Jake, at least, not the way that you do with Joe.

You don't know what to do about your feelings quite yet, but you do know one thing. You have to go to this Bengals game tomorrow.

Hopefully something good will come out of it. There has to, right?

hey loves!!

i am SO sorry this took me forever to update! i appreciate your patience with me though🫶

my last week of college classes was this week and i take my apush test TOMORROW, so i've been cramming everything in these last two weeks to make sure i get my grades where i want them. i also have prom on saturday, so i've been busy preparing myself for that as well. i've just been extremely busy is what i'm trying to say, so that's why i haven't been writing as much lol

that also explains why this chapter is kind of bad and very rushed lol. i just needed to get it up for all of you!

we're also getting EXTREMELY close to the moments you have all been waiting for👀

i hope everyone is doing well! thank you for your continued love and support. it means so much to me🤍

that's all i have for now :)

lots of love

tags: @jackharloww @ilovejoeburroww @dandelionwrites8 @ijustcrypretty @sinners-98-world @a-moment-captured @stainednailpolishremover @spookystoner @xoxokiaraaxoxo

if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! i’ll gladly add you<3

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #imagines #welcome to the jungle #nfl imagines

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dojunie · 1 year

Text

MESSENGER; HRJ [PT 6: FACE TO FACE]

➥ PART 6 OF MESSENGER; a small smau about a stranger, a whole lot of animal pics, and a relationship you would never have expected to come from texting a random number written on a public bathroom mirror.

➥ WC: 4.4K

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a/n: double update as a gift for taking a month to post this 🤠

current tl: @matchahyuck @theboyz-jacob @hoeshi17 @neoteez01 @hibernatinghamster @luvvsnae @shwizhies @skynightgalaxy @ihrtnyu @kunvibing @liliansun @txpxwxk @is4b3ll3s @rxnexxi @rum-gone-why @she-is-dreaming @chenfleur @haedgaf @twogyuu

“YOU KNOW THE RULES, 22. WHAT WOULD COACH SAY ABOUT THIS?”

Doyeon— your team’s captain, your best friend, and currently the person you were hovering over as she jolted and tried to hide her phone under her jacket sleeve— startled so badly at your booming voice that she almost hit her head on the locker door. Almost. As it stood she narrowly missed cracking her pretty face open on the metal, swinging her sharp gaze around to glare at you instead.

You snooped shamelessly; her phone screen seemed to be lingering on a text message thread.

“You’re terrible,” you chided. “Almost ripped my ear off at practice today when I was on my phone, but look at you. Five minutes before the game and you’re doing this. If I wasn’t so personally hurt I’d surely report you to the NCAA—”

“I dragged you onto the court because you were literally up next in set,” she hissed, “So I don’t want to hear it, brat; and keep your voice down!”

...Hmm. Bingo.

You’d managed to deduce exactly the reaction you were looking for. She only did that wide-eyed small-mouth yelling when she was on the edge— which meant that she was stressed, even if she's been dodging your eyes all afternoon. Instead of replying to her name-calling like you usually would your eyes lowered into a squint, and then drifted to the phone she’d now tossed onto a shelf in her locker.

Your game against the Hanyang Tigers was set to start in a little under five minutes. Coach had gone off to do something last-minute and boring and official, like check the court for proper net height ordinances or something, which left you and the team wandering around the room to finish warming up before she returned and things became serious— but for now, the vibe in the SNU locker room was still pretty light. Light, besides the obvious cloud of agitation floating around your captain.

Doyeon’s shoulders were stiff. Her lips pursed, and her attention clearly elsewhere.

“Did that loser do something dumb again?” you asked. The immediate slump of her shoulders answered your question before her mouth did.

“No,” she lied.

A beat.

“Or… I don’t know yet, should I say,” she added, dejectedly, when your eyes narrowed on her further. “And you know he hates it when you call him that.”

“I’ll say it like I see it,” you replied. “And until he gets his priorities straight, I don’t know about Donghyuck. I only know loser. What’d he do now?”

You didn’t actually dislike Donghyuck. You thought he was pretty funny, truthfully. Nice, clever, if not a little rebellious; the extrovert to reign over all extroverts.

You were the one to introduce him to Doyeon, even— after his incessant inquires about her began to drive you insane during the class you shared last semester, where you’d gotten to know him as your lab partner and then eventual friend (or should you say frenemy, since you both tended to argue more than not). Even though they seemed to be polar opposites on paper, Doyeon and Donghyuck actually ended up hitting it off a few months ago. They’ve officially been together for a few weeks now… but as many new couples eventually find, a spot of turbulence has begun to form in the waters of their relationship. (Namely, the one that was plaguing your best friend right now: his schedule.)

Donghyuck was a popular guy. Not to say that Doyeon wasn’t, the sweetheart and absolute knock-out she is, but Hyuck is in three clubs, a fraternity, and a sport; not to mention his affinity for spending every rare free moment doing something, being somewhere, having fun somehow.

It wasn’t a problem until it was a problem. Donghyuck missed a date he’d planned with Doyeon a few days ago, leaving your poor captain hanging out to dry at an arcade downtown because he’d lost track all eighty billion of the things he does during the week— and it wasn’t the first time he’d accidentally blown her off, either. But this was the worst and most recent of them, and it was obvious that day had stung your best friend pretty badly.

He's been groveling at her feet to make it up to her as of late, a definite step in the right direction, but as the best friend who'd had to hear her hold back tears on the phone afterwards? He was still on thin ice with you.

“I asked him to come to our game a few days ago, but he said he had a Nu Chi thing tonight that he wouldn’t be able to get out of,” Doyeon confided after a moment, eyes cloudy. “But now his location is off, and he’s not responding to my texts.”

"Oh,” you said. “Well. My eyebrows are... raised, but even I can’t crucify him for just that–”

“Me neither,” she cut in. “I wasn’t upset about that.”

“...Then—”

“What I’m upset about, is that Yoojin just texted me and said he was at B-Block dorms like, ten minutes ago, just walking around with one of his friends. Y’know. On the other side of campus, where his frat is not?”

You blinked. Yikes.

“Ah.”

“Right,” Doyeon sighed.

You weren’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that your coach returned then, smacking her clipboard against the bench to gather everyone's attention at the other end of the locker room. In an instant Doyeon’s expression changed, shifting into that of the captain who needed to gather her team and not of a girl who just found out that her boyfriend might be lying about his whereabouts.

You’d better not be doing anything stupid, Donghyuck, you thought unhelpfully, as you gave Doyeon the only thing you could think of— a weak pat on the back. I’ll kick your ass, motherfucker. I’ll make you wish you never met me.

Renjun is going to be completely honest; he had never really intended on actually meeting you.

The idea had surely crossed his mind, more often after that time you’d called him, recent nights going by where he found himself wondering in the lull between your messages if your laugh sounded higher or lower in person, or if you'd smell like the flowers you told him you press sometimes to use in your tea— but Renjun was nothing if not a realist, and knew that neither of you expected this messenger thing to go on for as long as it has.

He wasn't delusional enough to tell himself he didn't care about you, as he knew that whatever he felt in his stomach when your name lit up on his screen was not... normal, but he also knew that in the blink of an eye you could become too busy, or not find him as interesting, or simply find something better to do with your time that text him all day, and the thought of that made him nervous enough that he decided to prepare for the worst instead of hope for the best. Now, whenever you crossed his mind and he realized he was dwelling, wondering what you were doing, when you'd text him, what you might say or do or show him next— he reminded himself that you both were probably never going to meet, and forced himself to think about something else.

However. Because of this. Renjun has never actually allowed himself to think about what he’d do if he saw you in person.

Which is why he has no idea what the fuck would possess him to tell Donghyuck he’d go to your game.

He wasn’t even sure why he did it. Before Hyuck mentioned anything about volleyball Renjun had already been mashing his refusal into the keyboard, as on a normal afternoon Donghyuck’s request would have been met with a swift no, much less after a stressful weekend back home, two delayed flights, and an unedited essay waiting on his laptop waiting be turned in before midnight. The last thing he wanted to do was muck around some house party or fraternity kickback with a bunch of people he didn’t know.

I’d rather walk back to Jilin, he’d been typing, lips already pulled into a scowl, You have six hundred other friends who actually LIKE going to things like this, why do you always insist on harassing me with—

But then the next message that popped onto the screen had his fingers freezing over the send button.

Volleyball game, Hyuck had said. It was right there in the gray bubble. Staring back at him, surrounded by exclamation marks, like there was a chance he’d miss it.

Volleyball, he thought.

As in… the game taking place tonight? The one the women’s team is playing in?

The women’s team that you told him you were on?

And then everything happened so quickly. The part of his brain that controlled self-preservation flatlined, and before he could think better of it he told Donghyuck he’d go. 6 o’clock came in the blink of an eye and then all of a sudden Renjun was… here. Stuck to Donghyuck’s side in one of the many SNU stadium gyms, his stomach twisting in his body because his stupid, thoughtless desire to see you meant he didn’t realize until it was too late what he’d done— which was secretly show up here with the intention to watch you without you knowing, like a creep, potentially risking screwing up everything if you found out and—

Donghyuck nudged him out of his turmoil. "You want to see something cool?" he asked excitedly. Renjun followed his pointed finger to one of the banners hanging from the rafters on the walls.

He wasn't sure what he was looking at until the banner shifted against the wind of the airconditioning and the title became visible.

Women's Volleyball National Champions, 4X!

“Kim Doyeon,” Donghyuck had said proudly, “Mine, right there, number 22; but she was only vice captain, then! Now look at her. Moving up in the world…”

Renjun tuned him out as he looked over the banner, really looking over it, swallowing thickly as the letters danced against the breeze. This banner was from earlier this year. Your name was on there somewhere. Hyun Mijoo…? Could you be a Mijoo?

The buzzer rang then, a jarring sound that almost made Renjun leap out of his seat, but to everyone else in the stadium it must’ve signaled something exciting because the chattering amped up tenfold.

Without warning, a little under a dozen girls streamed out of the tunnel to the far right of the court, and the entire half of the gym that they were sitting in erupted into cheers. Renjun’s stomach began to twist like he was committing some sort of crime.

Donghyuck was whistling, howling for his girlfriend like a man possessed; and Kim Doyeon, the girl who’s heart he was here to mend, was the first one in the pack. Renjun's eyes followed her as she walked onto the court, expression calm, long brown hair pulled into two braids on the back of her head. She was a real force of nature— and Renjun wasn’t only saying this because she was taller than him— but because as if she wouldn’t be sought after just for being tall and attractive; she was treasurer for the student government, studying to become a pediatrician, and genuinely very, very nice. The whole perfect triangle.

He was sure that half the guys in the bleachers were going to have their eyes locked on her for the whole evening despite the fact that Donghyuck was right here; because without trying, she just commanded that type of attention.

Though. If someone were to ask Renjun what color her knee pads were, or whether the hair-tie in her braids were black or white, he would draw a huge, blinking blank. Why?

Because right behind Doyeon, hair tugged into a ponytail and practically hopping down the court with a giant smile on their face, was you.

The selfie you’d sent him that first week you started talking hadn’t been nearly as mysterious as his. Even surprising himself, he recognized instantly the curve of your chin, the warmness of your skin; your eyes looked the same even from halfway across the room, shiny and bright and squinted into a grin as you and Doyeon and the other members of the team jogged to the center of the court.

In the span of a second, he stopped hating himself for being here just a little bit less.

“God,” Donghyuck whined, “Maybe this was a mistake. I can never think right when she’s in that damn uniform. Isn’t she just so…?”

He couldn't help but try to memorize everything he saw; to confirm or deny everything he'd ever wondered. From here, it didn’t look like you were that much shorter than Doyeon. The top of your head might hit around Renjun’s nose, maybe his top lip if the perspective was giving you another inch.

“Actually don’t answer that, unless you want to get bit. Only I get to think about how hot she is. Fucking hell.”

For some terrible reason he chose then to wonder if you were stronger than him. You’d been threatening to beat him up lately, your go-to response for whenever he said anything you didn’t like— like telling you to go to bed, and scolding you when you shucked off doing your classwork to wander around campus and prowl for animals to take pictures of— and Renjun always shrugged it off, positive that you were all talk, but now he wasn’t sure. He doesn’t work out. You look like you work out. Your legs looked awfully long in those shorts, and when he watches you stretch your arms above your head he notices the curve of your waist, too.

He swallowed a second time— this one much more difficult than the first.

“Hey… Hello? Earth to LunJeon? What the… Dude, tell me you’re actually not staring at my girlfriend right now?”

A whistle blew, the huddle broke up, and the crowd cheered again. A bunch of girls left the court. He wasn’t sure why only six remained from each team, the opposing school’s red and yellow uniforms on one side and Seoul National’s black and white on the other, but you happened to be one of the ones that stayed and that was all he really cared to notice.

“Or— Wait, is it— Are you looking at Y/N? Ponytail?”

It was like someone popped a rubber band right next to his ear. The sounds of the room snapped back into his mind, no longer muffled and distant— Renjun whipped around.

Ponytail?

“What?”

“You were looking at Y/N!”

Donghyuck must’ve read the startled look on Renjun’s face as confusion and not the horror it actually was from realizing he was staring so blatantly, because he quickly elaborated. “Number 10,” he hissed, “The libero!”

“I don’t know what a libero is,” Renjun said just as fast, instantly defensive, but on the inside his mind was going a hundred miles an hour. Your jersey had a big, silver 10 on the back. He really was talking about you.

Y/N? That's your name?

Donghyuck didn’t look fooled by this response in the slightest, still watching Renjun with clear alarm that he’d just found his friend paying attention to a girl for once, but before he could ask anything else Renjun scowled and turned his attention back to the game— careful, now, to pretend like he was looking at the opposing team.

“I was looking at her because I was trying to figure out why her shirt is a different color. I’ve never been to a volleyball game. I don’t know why—”

“Even if, you were like— super staring, dude. I was talking to you and you didn’t hear me!”

“Ignoring you is nothing new,” Renjun muttered. “Are you going to answer my question or not?”

“What question?”

“Why is number ten wearing white shirt, when everyone else is wearing black?”

His friend blinked back at the court, obviously skeptical, like he still wasn’t sure if he was really just asking about your clothing choice. “Y/N’s the libero,” Donghyuck eventually relented, “It means that her main job over everything else is just making sure the ball never touches the ground. You’ll see soon enough. She’s stupidly good at it. Gonna be flying all over this court.”

The whistle blew, the sound that signaled that the game was really about to start; And fly you did. But instead of the vague interest in your skill that he was expecting to feel, instead, within minutes of the match starting his stomach was in knots.

Cuts and bruises appeared to be the least of your concerns. Renjun watched, slack-jawed, as you tossed yourself all over the stadium; to the point that he started to lose track how many times you completely pancaked your body to the hardwood, an arm outstretched just in time to smack the ball into the waiting hands of another teammate— only to get back on your feet without a second of hesitation and do it again a moment later. The first time he’d seen it he was startled— by both the action, and the fact that everyone just kept going afterwards. Wasn’t anyone going to check on you? Or call a time-out, or something? There’s no way that wasn’t going to bruise; how was the game still on?

The second time you hit the ground led quickly into the third, and by the fourth time Renjun saw you dive to the hardwood, the sound of your body hitting the ground audible even from where he was sitting, his shock had transformed into something else: a cold, uncomfortable pit in his gut.

He was worried about you. And realizing this was as embarrassing as it was horrifying. Worried? Half an hour ago he didn’t even know your name. Who was he to get concerned about your health, to the point that every hit nearly made him wince?

This game was just more brutal than he thought; he'd be this worried about anyone.

(He chose not to think about his reaction to one of the harder times you’d fallen— how sharply his breath got caught in his throat when you’d hit the ground after a particularly long volley after halftime, a nasty spill that had the bleachers tittering in concern. You took longer to bounce back to your feet like usual, a grimace painted onto your face instead of your usual determination, and with each passing second that you didn’t get up Renjun’s lungs felt like they were being squeezed in someone's fist. Only after you rolled to your feet did he realize he’d been digging his nails into the seat— and when the realization hit him, the little knowing crescents left behind in the plastic, he’d gotten so embarrassed that he banned himself from looking at you again until the game ended.)

17 to 9.

Weakly, he watched you hop around with Doyeon on the court after the final whistle, hand in hand with congratulations to spare.

Despite his own guilt-caused exhaustion, seeing you smile was… nice. No matter how awful an idea it had been to come here, he couldn’t deny that. His stupid desire had been granted: Now he just had to find a way out of here without being seen. He'd usher Donghyuck to go find his girlfriend, tell him he needed to use the bathroom or something and just disappear into the night, and since everyone else was leaving now and you were thankfully standing on the complete opposite side from the exits, it probably wouldn't be too risky to just go now—

“Doyeon-ie!” Donghyuck wailed.

Half the people surrounding them turned, including a few faces from the court. Including Doyeon. Including you.

And Renjun could only watch as your attention found his friend— and then, as Donghyuck sprouted to his feet and grabbed Renjun’s sleeve to haul him up too, how your wide eyes drifted to his.

Donghyuck bounded down the stadium stairs, madly waving his free hand around like you and Doyeon could have possibly managed to not hear his howling— and your best friend’s jaw all but dropped, disbelief written all over her face. You, however, only held back a sigh of relief.

So you chose life, you thought, surprise instantly overtaken by satisfaction as he neared. Good. I guess I won’t have to stick my foot up your ass after all.

As Doyeon’s awe melted into a grin, what caught your attention quickly thereafter was the wide-eyed, absolutely horrified looking boy that Donghyuck was dragging along behind him. When they came close enough to touch and Donghyuck let him go to pull your friend into a whirling hug, he seemed to freeze in place.

“What are you doing here?” Doyeon asked, “I thought you said you had a frat thing...?”

“I did,” Donghyuck said sheepishly, “I do, actually, since it’s actually still happening right now, but I told Mark I had something I couldn’t miss tonight and kinda just… dipped? I really wanted to see you. I turned my phone off so he wouldn’t be blowing up my messages while I was here."

And in one fell swoop, Doyeon’s heart warmed over. If you weren’t happy for her you’d roll your eyes at his save; guy probably has no idea how close he’d just flown to the sun.

"You did great tonight, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes. “What about me, Hyuck? Did I do great?”

He doesn’t even look at you properly. Just glances at you over his girlfriend's shoulder.

“Could’ve done without all the showing off,” he said, devoid of all that sweetness he’d just been showering Doyeon in. Of course. Fucker. “Can’t say you didn’t carry tonight, though. Good save in the third quarter but Jesus, when are you going to stop putting your ribs on the line to save a point?”

“When it stops winning us games,” you shrugged. “Like you have the right to say that when you’re out there getting tackled every other week by angry little men in soccer cleats—”

“Soccer is different, stupid.”

“The hell it is. Not in this context—”

“Yes, in this context! There’s no way you should be risking knocking a lung out of place in a non-contact sport just to—”

“It’s the nature of the game! I don’t know what makes you think that because volleyball isn’t a ‘tackle-your-opponents’ type sport, that—”

“Guys,” Doyeon interrupted. You both turned to her. “Um. Are you going to introduce us to your friend, Hyuck?”

You blinked.

Oh. Right. Right. You turned your attention back to the new face.

Game-goers were passing through the court to leave the gym, now. Friends of the team were doing much like Donghyuck did, wandering down to the floor for congratulatory hugs and high-fives, which meant there were people pretty much everywhere; students, athletes, family and friends, team staff, a million people moving and talking and existing at once, but... But for some reason, this guy was only staring at you.

Unsure what else to do, you simply stared right back.

Up close like this you couldn’t help but notice that he was actually quite cute. Very cute. In a cool, composed kind of way, even though he looked like he’d bolt out of the room if someone so much as dropped a water bottle near him right now. Wavy brown hair, big, dark eyes, an adorably downturned pout— You probably would have been more amazed by his beauty if the sickly look on his face wasn’t starting to make you worry.

Did you know him from somewhere? Is that why he was looking at you like this?

Donghyuck sighed as if Doyeon had asked him to run three times around the building instead of be a good friend. “I mean… I suppose I should, right? Fine. My dear Doie. Beelzebub.” You made a move as if you were going to punch him and he jumped to hide behind Doyeon. “Meet Junnie, my favorite social recluse, and pretty much the only reason I didn’t fail my classes freshman year. Thought I’d pop his university-outing cherry tonight.”

Oh? Wait a second. You perked up a little. “The roommate?” you asked. “The one you told me about that one time? Hoo..ang, something? Renjun?”

Renjun’s mouth opened a little, but no sound came out. You waited for him to respond. Doyeon stared at him. Donghyuck, as if only now sensing his friend's state, finally turned to look at him too. He only continued to stare back at you.

“Not much of a talker, huh? That’s fine. Doyeon likes to say I can talk enough for two on my—”

“Huang,” Renjun said suddenly. Startlingly. (Even his voice was cute. Much lower than you were expecting from a face like that.)

“Huh?”

“My name,” he added quietly. “You said Hoo-Ang. It’s Huang.”

“Huang?”

You couldn’t help the nagging feeling that he was expecting you to notice something just then— he stood there with almost visibly bated breath, rigidity in every feature as he watched you, but no bells were being rung. Maybe the kid was just… nervous? Just because you had no concept of social cues, able to befriend just about anyone and everyone given enough time with your unabashed personality, didn’t mean that others threw normal concepts like demurity to the wind too.

You shrugged, hit him with your best smile, and held your hand out. You weren't quite sure what his deal was, but something about him intrigued you.

After looking between your hand and you as if expecting you to snatch it back and laugh in his face or something, Renjun put his very, very clammy palm to yours.

“Well, Huang,” you told him firmly, “It’s nice to finally put a name to a face, huh?”

(If you’d been privy to his thoughts then, the single word in his head that he wouldn’t have dared to say out loud— for multiple reasons other than the fact that he’d apparently forgotten how to fucking speak— you would have heard his weak, disbelieving, “Likewise.”)

a/n: pls leave a like if you enjoyed! i'm finally out of writers block mfs

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burrowbaddie · 1 year

Text

Moving On

Joe Burrow x Female Reader

Series Summary: Childhood friends to lovers to nothing. You and Joe had history, you were each others first and then you were nothing. Years later, you guys rekindle the flame but with more obstacles in the way this time.

Chapter 6 Summary: You and Joe try to move on from the scandal.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Afab!reader, smut, swearing. Oral (female & male receiving), vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cheating! (You are the side girl, sorry.), the small fight scene, jealous Joe, mild violence, stalker

Series Masterlist

You lock yourself in your office, trying to avoid co-workers and patients. Your phone is blowing up with texts from family, friends, and random people who have your number somehow. All of it was sending you into a panic. Joe's name flashes on your phone.

"Joe." You cry.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'll fix this. I promise. I'm going to fly home right now."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Don't look at any of your social media accounts, and don't answer phone calls. I'll see you when I get home. I love you." Joe hangs up, leaving you alone again. Tate knocks on your door, but you're too ashamed to open it. He uses his master key and opens the door, locking it behind him.

"Mya is calming things down out there." Tate walks over and hugs you. You can't stop crying; people have already been texting you hurtful things. Tate takes your phone, so you can stop reading your IG comments which are flooded with hateful words.

"What am I going to do?" You can't stop crying. Your chest is so tight that you begin to hyperventilate.

"Hey, you have to calm down. Think about the baby. Hey!"

Tate's words are muffled together and unheard because of your rapid heartbeat. All you can hear is the blood pulsing. And then everything goes black. When you wake up, you're in a hospital bed with your OB next to you.

"Relax. You're okay. You started having a panic attack. Tate came to get me. I'm taking you off the rest of your shift. Tate is going to take you home." She says. Mya is sitting next to you with an apologetic look. You comply with your OB's ruling. Tate takes you home, and Mya promises to come by after work. When you get home, Tate turns off your cell phone and takes it. You argue that Joe might call, but Tate says he will handle it. George is on high alert because your new address was also leaked. You know that your parents must be blowing up your phone, so you cry yourself to sleep. a few hours later, Tate wakes you up to eat and let you know Joe is on his way home. You refuse to eat, but he drags you from bed downstairs to Mcdonalds on the dining room table. You take a seat, picking at the fries. The front door opens. Joe rushes to you, and you immediately break down. His eyes glare at Tate as he rubs your back. He knows this isn't the time to be jealous, but the thought of someone else comforting you pisses him off.

"I'm going to fix this. I promise."

"Joe, I don't think you can fix this," Helen states, making her presence known. You try to calm down and wipe your eyes.

"There has to be something. I won't deal with the media talking about her like she's a side piece."

"Joe, when you started a relationship with her, she was one. I told you to leak the story first; now the ball is in Nicole's hands. I don't know how you will be able to fix this." Helen looks at you with a frown.

"Sorry to step in on this, but you should come clean about Nicole. Do an interview and tell the truth."Tate says, making everyone turn to him.

"I'm not doing an interview. I never have and never will do one about my personal life. It's no one's business." Joe's intense, and you hold his hand to calm him down.

"The kid is right. This might help clear some things up."

Joe lifts you and takes you upstairs. He doesn't want to hear a thing from anyone else. For the next few days, you hide out with Joe inside your home. Joe misses practice, but he doesn't care. Your health and sanity are far more critical. Today, your parents are coming over, which sends you into a further spiral.

"I don't even know what to say! What were you thinking!" Your mother shouts, pacing the living room. Joe's parents and your father sit quietly to the side while your mother spends the next 10 mins chewing you and Joe out.

"You don't even want to know what the people at my church have been saying about you!" Your mother directs her anger toward you this time.

"Ma'am-"

"Boy, do not even fix those lips to interrupt me. I am speaking to my daughter."

"I understand that, but I'm not going to let you speak to my wife like that." Joe stands up in front of you protectively. Your mother's eyes widen along with everyone else.

"Your what?" Robin speaks up, this time entirely shocked by this news.

"What we did was wrong. I know that. I ended this with Nicole. I know I should have been upfront about everything, but I wasn't. That's on me. I kept telling Cheeks things with Nicole were over, and she believed me. So don't put it all on her. We love each other, and I'm going to be with her. I'm going to marry her. She is the mother of my child and future children. I'm not going to let you or anyone on this Earth disrespect her, ma'am." Joe's words take the room by surprise, and shut your mother up. Your dad coughs. Mr.Burrow comes forward.

"Joe came to me some time ago and told me about them."

"You knew?" Robin's voice is filled with disappointment. Your dad stands up.

"I think we all knew deep down. Look at them. The kid's been in love with my daughter since he was 12. Our daughter has been equally in love with him too. Right now, all we can do is support our children. I don't care what the media or church says about my daughter. Because she is my daughter, and I know her." Your dad kisses your head, and Mr.Burrow nods. Your mother leaves the room, and Robin stares at you and Joe.

"Dad." You whisper, hugging him.

"Your mom will take some time, but she will get over it. You and Joe are adults. What choices you make do not define the whole picture." He says, kissing your head before going off to find your mother. Mr. Burrow pulls Joe away, and Robin finally gets up. She puts her hands on your belly, smiling with tears in her eyes.

"That's my grandbaby."

You nod your head.

"I'm happy. I wish you would have said something to me. You or Joe, but I get it. You're not little kids anymore. No one wants to run to their parents." Robin continues rubbing your belly until your mother comes back. She won't even look at you. You don't blame her. Your mother grabs her things and leaves with your father behind her. Joe's parents stay awhile talking to the both of you; they leave an hour later when Helen comes.

"So here's the thing we need to take this thing head on."

"What are our options?" You ask, biting your lip.

"Interviews. You need to do one or Joe." She says, staring at you. You look at Joe for an answer.

"I can't. Doing an interview like this is too personal. There's nothing else?" Joe stands, running his hand through his hair. He's flustered and pissed, so you try your best to keep him calm by holding his hand.

"I-I'll do it." You whisper. It's been days since you've heard your own voice outside of crying. Joe shakes his head.

"I'll do it. Baby, I want you to rest. You don't need to be in front of the camera for them to ridicule you even more. I will come clean about everything."

"This is good. You two need to go out on a date. Show the world how in love you guys are. Your parents need to be on board with this too. A family outing. That's good." Helen claps at her brilliant plan. You give Joe an uneasy look. There is no way your mother would agree to this. Helen tells Joe she will take care of the interview and let him know when it is all set. The object is to get in front of the TV before Nicole. After Helen leaves, you're left alone with Joe. There hasn't been much talking between you two since the story broke up. Joe follows you to the bedroom, contemplating what to say. You sit on the bed staring out the window. Joe squats in front of you, rubbing your legs.

"I'm sorry about all of this. I should have ended things with Nicole right away. Talk to me. Please?" He begs. Your eyes look down at him, but you can't bring yourself to acknowledge his words.

"I need to go to work." This is your only response. You push his hands off your legs and walk to the bathroom. Joe stands up and follows you, but you slam the door in his face. You know you have no right to be mad. This is just as much your fault as his. But it hurts, and being pregnant fuels every little emotion inside you. So the only way you know how to cope is to ignore Joe and go to work, burying yourself in something you love.

You don't know why you thought work would be the best place to be because half the staff keeps asking you questions. People you've never met from the other departments. Tate protects you from most of their comments and questions, threatening to beat them up.

"Mr.Cove? Tell me where the pain is?" You ask, checking on a patient.

"Uhh, my right."

You look at the chart, which said his left side was the trouble area.

"Your right?" You question, walking to the other side of the bed.

"Yeah. I think. I need to ask you a question."

"What's up?" You ask, lifting his shirt.

"How long was the affair with Jie Burrow, and is that his child?" The man asks, pulling a tape recorder out of his pocket. You smack it out of his hand and call security.

"Come on! The silence is killing everyone! It has to be his child, right?" The guy shouts as security removes him. You return to the office, where you find Mike and the Hospital Director, Max. The board called a meeting to determine if you are eligible to remain head of the ED. You stand in the room watching everyone vote.

"All in favor of removing her as head of the ED? Raise your hands." Elaine says. Seven out of nine people raise their hands. Max looks around the room, shocked.

"We don't have a choice. The scandal will only cause further donations to stop. We're sorry. Mike will be named head immediately." Elaine states.

"What we do in our personal lives has nothing to do with work. She has worked her ass off-"

"Max, it's fine. I'll get going." You whisper, walking out. Mike wears a big victory smile. You don't burst into tears until you get home. Joe pulls you into a hug apologizing again. He was going to practice but said he would miss it and stay with you. You shake your head.

"I'll be okay. Quinn is coming this evening. Go to practice. you missed enough days." You whisper. Joe kisses your lips and grabs his bags. At practice, not much is said to him about the scandal. Everyone is focused on going to the championship and then the Superbowl. In the locker room, Ja'Marr sits beside Joe, shaking his head.

"How's Cheeks?"

"Not good." Joe looks down at his phone. Helen was able to get him an interview for 20/20.

"If there is anything we can do, let me know. It's really shitty how Nicole went about this. Like there is no way she didn't know the story was coming out." Ja'Marr says. Joe nods his head.

"Good looking out. Right now, Cheeks is struggling. They fired her from the head of ED."

"That's crazy. She's an amazing doctor." Sam chimes in. Joe nods his head. Dj walks by, not saying a word but making sure Joe hears him chuckling. Joe stands up, and Ja'Marr jumps and stands before him.

"Don't let him get to you. Focus on taking care of Cheeks and getting this ring." Ja'Marr tells him. Joe grabs his things and leaves the locker room. Leaning on his car is a young woman.

"I'm not answering any questions. Get off my car." Joe says, throwing his bag in the backseat.

"I didn't want things to get like this, Joe. It was honestly a huge mistake. I just wanted things with you and Nicole to be over. I thought she would end things. And the other girl, I thought if I scared her, she would stop too. I'm sorry."

"What? Who are you?"

"Your biggest fan. Here this is for you." She tries to hand Joe an envelope, but Joe reaches over to grab her hood. The girl drops the envelope and runs. Joe picks it up and empties the content in his hands. Inside are photos of DJ and Nicole from when he first got drafted. Joe looks around for the girl but can't find her when he gets home. Quinn is in the kitchen for the first time in days; he hears your laughter. Joe walks in and leans against the door frame watching you and Quinn.

"Joseph!" She waves him over. Joe stands behind you, rubbing your belly. You lean to the side so he can kiss your cheek.

"How are my babies?" He whispers into your ear. You nod. You were actually feeling better because of Quinn. Dr. Brian called you, telling you it wouldn't let this slide and would have it handled by Monday. Quinn walks away to answer a phone call, and Joe tells you about the interview. He shows you the photos of Nicole and DJ. You place the photos down on the counter.

"So this all came from that stalker. Your fan. Joe, that's scary. What did they want from this?"

"Me to be single, I guess. I didn't look at her face well, but I think we'll be okay right now. I will figure something out about it next week." Joe holds you and sighs. He asks you what he should do with the pictures. You tell him not to leak it. You don't want to fight dirty with Nicole. The next day you build up the strength to speak with your mother. She sits across from you while your father and Quinn stay in the kitchen.

"I don't hate you. I'm not mad, just disappointed. Everyone is saying such nasty things about you. They called you the new age Monica Lewinsky." Your mother shakes her head. You try to cover your laugh, but you can't. You start laughing hysterically. Your mother looks at you like you have two heads and laughs. Both of you are laughing so much that tears are rolling down your faces.

"Monica? That is the funniest thing I have ever heard." You wipe your eyes, and your mother smiles. She stands up and takes a seat next to you.

"I had to say unholy things to the women at the church. I will never let anyone disrespect my baby or my grandchild. I love you both so much, and Joseph. If you are happy, all I can do is support you. I hope you learned from your mistake."

"I mean, I have the man of my dreams. I don't plan on cheating or being a side piece again."

Your mother frowns.

"Don't talk about yourself like that."

"Mom, it's true. I've come to terms with what our relationship was. But we're past that, so we will focus on our family now and growing." You rub your belly, wearing a big smile. Your mother kisses your head and rubs your belly. Your father joins you with Quinn. Before you know it, Friday arrives. You and Joe have been seen out and about without a care in the world of what people think. While in LA for the interview, Paparazzi followed you guys, and you did your best to ignore them and their questions. You sat behind the scenes watching Joe sit across from the host.

"So, How about you tell us about her? Just the story between you two."

Joe smiles.

"We met in 6th grade during this meet new sixth graders event. She is allergic to bees, so when I met her, her face was swollen. She had just got stung by a bee. That's where the nickname Cheeks came from. In the back of my mind, I've always loved her since that moment. I couldn't really put my feelings into words." Joe chuckles.

"But you knew it was love. You guys dated?"

"We dated in college, yeah. We broke up because I went on to LSU, and she stayed to start her internship. We just kind of fell apart after the breakup."

"So things with Nicole. Why cheat?"

Joe sighs. This was hard for him; you knew it and gave him an encouraging smile.

"I wanted to end things with Nicole, but she was going through a lot, so I didn't want to add to the heartache. In the long run, I was a fool for that. I hurt both women in the process. I've apologized to Nicole many times. I completely understand if she doesn't accept my apology." Joe states. You told him not to bring up Nicole's threats because it would only look bad on his part. To the world, Nicole is the only victim. Joe continues answering every question thrown at him. He responds with honesty and with ease. It warms your heart every time he talks about you and his daughter.

"I'm excited to be a father. I'm excited to marry my first love, and I'm excited about everything in the future."

"What would you like to say to the fans who feel like you've let them down?"

"I would like to say I'm sorry. At the end of the day, I am a human, and I have flaws. I love this woman, and that is not one of my flaws, and I would like everything to pass and to move on. I know it will take some time for people to forgive me, but I am working on being a better man." Joe's words are soft-spoken.

"Anything you want to end on?"

"Cheeks, I love you. I'm sorry that you have to go through all of this because of me, but if I had to do it again, I would love you each and every time. In every life, In every world. I promise I will find you and love you every time." Joe is now looking at you. You wipe your tears and whisper you love him back. The guy ends the interview and shakes Joe's hand wishing him the best of luck. When Joe takes off his mic and makes his way over to you, you waddle as fast as you can to him, meeting him halfway and kissing him with so much love and passion. Everyone in the room smiles, looking on.

"I love you so much." You cry. Joe smiles in between kisses.

"Yeah? Enough to marry me tonight?" He asks. You nod your head.

"But My parents and-"

"Already handled that," Quinn says, showing her phone. You guys finish up on set and leave for a tiny little chapel where Joe's parents and your parents are waiting. Fran and Quinn stand to the side as you walk down the aisle. And in that tiny little chapel, you guys get married. You guys fly back to Cincinnati so Joe can get ready for his game. After the interview, people seem to have a better picture of you and Joe. And the weeks go by quieter than that scandal-breaking week. Joe is going to the Superbowl, and everyone is in a better place. Nicole does an interview that doesn't add on to your hate but doesn't make people like you more. But recently, you've come to terms with not caring about the outside world's opinion about you or Joe. You post Joe all over your IG and limit the comment sections for your mental health, and so Joe doesn't start cursing people out because he has twice already on his backup, of course. Joe posted you one time on his story, and the majority of people loved it; maybe because you are pregnant, no one wants to bully a pregnant person.

The night before the Superbowl, Joe's attention is focused on the game, which is driving you crazy. You'll be nine months soon, and your hormones have been through the roof, so you sit on his lap, cockwarming him. Joe rubs your back and turns rewinds the play. You want to move badly, but Joe only allowed you in this position if you stayed like that for 30 minutes. You shift, causing him to groan.

"Has it been 30 mins?" You whine. Joe kisses your neck.

"It's only been 10 mins, baby. Stop." Joe warns, his voice getting deep. You smirk and shift in his lap again. Your belly was preventing you from being close to him.

"You've been studying this same footage all week. Philly this, Philly that. fuck me right now." You moan, circling your hips. Joe groans and presses pause. He holds your hips and starts bouncing you on his cock.

"You are so needy, Cheeks. Begging me all week to fuck this pretty little pussy. Why?"

"I miss-mm-mm you." You moan, stuttering, when Joe's tip touches your cervix. Joe speeds up, bouncing you on his lap like a rag doll. You take every inch and begin sobbing as you feel your walls breaking; an orgasm follows after.

"Feels good. So good." You cry as you cum on his dick. Joe smirks and lifts you with his dick still inside of you. he carries you to the bed holding your legs up as he fucks you into the mattress. You awakened a monster because you knew before a big game Joe enjoyed fucking pretty much all night. During college, he would fuck you all night only to wake you right before 6 am practice to fuck you again. And just like college Joe takes you all night, but this time he lets you sleep in, cooking you breakfast in the morning.

"Nervous for tonight?"

"A little, but I have a good feeling," Joe says as his phone rings. You look at the name. Both of you are shocked.

"Nicole?" Joe answers, putting it on speaker.

"I just wanted to wish you good luck."

"Thanks," Joe replies. The line is quiet.

"Why didn't you leak anything about my bullying or my threats? Why would you take all the heat? You found out about me and DJ, right? I mean, it was only twice better than what you did to me."

"It wasn't worth it. I hurt you, and I was going to pay for it. Whatever happens next for you is on you. You can't live your life being nasty to everyone you meet." Joe answers. Nicole is quiet again.

"I hate you, and I don't think I will ever get over how you made me feel, but I hope you win."

"Thanks. Goodbye, Nicole." Joe ends the call and gives you a what the fuck look. You laugh and lay back on your bed. Joe kisses your naked body before picking you up to shower with him. After the shower, you dress and get ready to meet his parents for lunch and game time. Quinn sits next to you as you get ready to cheer Joe on. He finds you in the crowd and blows you kisses during warm-ups. The game is neck and neck, with the Eagles scoring, then the Bengals. Usher is the halftime performance, and you and Quinn lose your mind during the set. During the third quarter, you start to feel uneasy and slight pain.

"Are you okay?" Robin asks with a worried expression. You nod, but then another pain rips through your belly.

"Something is wrong with the baby." You cry, buckling over. Quinn jumps up.

"Honey, you stay here. Quinn and I will take her to the medical unit." Robin says, helping you out of the area. From the Medical unit, you are sent directly to the hospital.

"You're going to have to baby today or the wee hours of tomorrow."

"But I'm not due until the end of February. I really can't have the baby. Joe's playing. I can't give birth." You cry. Robin holds your hand, trying to get you to calm down.

"You are in the right time frame to give birth, and your blood pressure is very high, so the best thing to do is to induce labor." The doctor says. You nod your head.

"Can you at least turn on the game?"

"Of course. Let's get you started." The doctor says, leaving. Robin calls Joe's dad to tell him the news. Your mother and father hop on the first flight to Vegas. They induce labor as you sit there watching Joe battle for his ring.

"Ouch! I need the-"

"On it!" Quinn jumps up to get the nurse. You find out you are 7 centimeters dilated and ask for an epidural. After you get it, you are doing much better and can enjoy the game.

"Touchdown!" You, Robin, and Quinn shout as Ja'marr scores a touching putting the Bengals in the lead with only 30 seconds left in the game. Joe goes off the field feeling amazing. He watches the next 30 seconds praying for the defense to hold it down. And they do. The Bengals win 24-14. Joe cheers with his teammates, forgetting to look into the crowd. A few people grab him for an interview. Helen grabs him before he can get caught up.

"She's going to be giving birth soon. You need to go!" She shouts, smiling. Joe looks at the crowd and doesn't see you. He takes off his pads and sprints to the back. Joe gets to the hospital in record time.

"You did it!" You shout. Joe kisses your lips.

"Today? We're having a baby today?" He asks. His mother nods her head.

"I'm dilating pretty fast. Joella is ready to come out and see us."

Joe doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night, and at 5:15 am, you give birth to a healthy baby girl. Joe tries to hide his tears, but he can't stay calm. When he makes skin-to-skin contact, he breaks down. You cry, staring at your husband holding your daughter.

A/N: Well lol This chapter is blah! But I hope it was decent enough. I'm sorry if it sucked! If you guys wanted more drama sometimes I hate dragging the story out too long and I felt it was time to wrap it up! There will be a short follow-up chapter! For sure! What kind of series would you guys like to see after this?

Tags: @joselyn001@savii999@lostaurorax@simpgirl-lat@edenhess @blinkloverx3 @dboanalooaa @nm112495 @mhm-ok-sure@katiehud@blu3jeanbaby@mrosales16@wineauntharry @Cosmolover96 @loviingjihyo @hrlzy @spideybrina @wickedfun9 @dessxoxsworld @Tjb113 @heartsml @munsonrry @blu3jeanbaby

#joe burrow x you #joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow imagine #second string #joe burrow x u #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fluff

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youaremyhome · 2 years

Text

Pieces of the Night: Mars is Bright Tonight

Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, DARK. Read at your own risk!

Notes: 4.4k words. Part 4!! starting to get darker, mind the tags ppl :)

The sun softly warms the top of your knees, arms wrapped around your legs as you sit on the lounge chair. Your bedroom sliding door is still open to let in the breeze. Heaving out a sigh, your mind moves sluggishly as you think back to last night.

After the group had led you back to the safety of the bonfire, you apologized for the scene you had caused. They refused to accept it, saying Rafe made a scene wherever he went. Still, you turned quiet as you looked for your sister. Lauren had been busy in the dunes with a kook and had missed the whole confrontation. Thank God for small miracles, you didn’t need her to be front row of your chaos.

Clearly, you had misjudged Rafe. You've heard he’s mean, but you had this annoying habit of seeing the good in everyone. That first night of meeting him had been nice. He was a bit of an asshole, but he had listened to you ramble and you thought he was sweet. My God, how wrong you were. You cried all last night once in bed. You would relax for a moment before remembering the picture he had of you, making you sob all over again.

But with the rising sun to cast light, so had your mind.

If Rafe did share that picture, you can report it as revenge porn, then he would be the one in trouble. You refuse to cower from a picture he had taken without your consent and try to hold it as blackmail. You would flip it on him just as quickly. Though, that didn’t make you any less shameful, feeling so stupid for having slept with him in the first place, for accepting that coke so easily.

Now that you're analyzing that night with wider eyes, you think maybe it wasn’t coke. At least, not fully. You had never felt that way with coke before. A more lightness, a feeling like you were drunk on drugs instead of liquor. You reason that it must’ve been cut with something else, giving you a bad high.

The only problem you’re stuck on is if you should tell anyone. Your friends? Lauren? The school?

The only ones to know the truth are the pogues, but you don’t want to involve them in your newfound drama. Rafe was probably right; they won’t want to do anything with you now.

A chirp of your phone interrupts your spiraling thoughts. A text from an unsaved number.

Hey, it's Sarah, do you wanna talk about last night?

Relief washes over you like cool water. Selfishly, you accept the lifeline Sarah has waved to you.

Yes please lol come over?

Your family is down at the beach and you blamed a headache for staying back. You burn a hole in the hardwood floors pacing for half an hour until Sarah texts that she’s here. Running down to the door you're greeted with a pleasant surprise as you look out to the driveway.

The brown van is parked crooked and filing out is all five of them. JJ waves his arm back and forth dramatically, smiling and bellowing your name.

JJ’s spirit makes you smile, leaning over the railing and waving back, beckoning them up. When they’re climbing the stairs, the rumble of an engine automatically turns your attention to the road. A truck drives past, slower than normal. You think it must be another tourist looking for their rental house.

Once they climb up the numerous stairs, Pope supports a hand against a pillar.

“Is it really necessary to climb mount Everest every time you come here?”

“No. There’s an elevator.” You smile innocently.

“That’s mean,” Pope whines.

“Sorry about them, they’re kinda a package deal. Should’ve warned you.” Sarah rolls her eyes fondly.

“That’s ok, they’re pretty funny.”

You lead them inside, hearing the oohs and awws over the house.

“Holy kook,” Pope wonders out loud.

Your face gets hot with embarrassed annoyance, you don’t want to be considered a kook if Rafe is one. Not wanting any more association with him than you already have. You skip over Pope's musing and sit on the couch with them.

“Soo… last night…” Sarah starts.

“Sucked! I hate when those kooks crash the party. It’s our side of the island.” JJ interrupts.

“I think Sarah was talking about what happened with Rafe and Y/N.” John B says.

“Oh, yeah. That. That sucked too. I mean for sure it did for you.” JJ gestures his long arms to you. “Who would sleep with Rafe anyway?”

Kie reprimands JJ with low mutterings while Sarah hits his knee. John B covers for him. “What JJ means is that everyone knows what a prick Rafe is. Just surprising someone as nice as you did.”

“How did that happen anyways?” Sarah pipes up. “Sorry to ask but my brother is crazy.”

You tell them the full story, unlike the version you had given your girlfriends, feeling a bit better knowing at least someone knows the truth. That Rafe won’t be able to hold it over your head with them.

“He must’ve taken that picture when I was sleeping, I never would’ve let him if I was awake.” You shrug lamely, that hot ball of fire of anxiety flaring in the uncomfortable silence. Sarah reaches over to place a hand on your knee, a comforting smile on her face.

“What a fucking creep.” JJ spits out, it looks like he wants to punch something. “We gotta delete that picture off his phone.”

“Yeah!” Pope exclaims. “We could break into Tannyhill and get ahold of it. Or better yet, break it.”

John B perks up like a puppy. “Sarah, you could get us in, right?”

“Of course, I know where he hides the key to his room.”

“No, no, please, don’t –” This feels like it's not the first time they’ve impulsively schemed before.

“Let’s do it tonight –”

“Perfect!”

“Me and JJ can –”

“No!” You yell.

Everyone’s head snaps at you, shocking even yourself when you realize you’re standing.

“Don’t you want that picture deleted?” Kie asks, tone condescending and face one of disgust.

“Of course, I do!” Anxiety fizzes at your chest, your arms crossing tightly across your chest. “But I don’t want you guys to get in trouble for me. This is my mistake; I can fix it myself.”

“We can’t just let him hold onto it; he could send it to anyone! Show anyone!” JJ panics.

“Let us help you,” Pope says in a gentle tone.

You’re shaking your head stubbornly as they talk over each other. “No. I can’t ask that of you guys. I’ll figure something out.”

They don’t easily back down you find, which in other circumstances you would appreciate. After more arguing and denying their help, they eventually give in with forlorn faces. It’s awkward and you look out the windows.

“Anyone wanna teach me how to surf?”

After trial and error, you finally get to ride the wave without falling off. It only took you three hours. You scream in victory, pumping your arms which unstable you, and slip into the water. Laughing as you come back up, you’re pushed right back down by JJ and John B ambushing you, lifting you back to hold you like a trophy. You can’t stop laughing as everyone cheers.

Breathless, you trudge out of the water and flop down next to Sarah. The others stay with the waves. Their lessons distracted you from your current situation and you genuinely had fun head barreling into cold waves again and again.

“My body is going to hurt tomorrow; I just know it.” You sigh lightly. “Totally worth it though.”

Sarah smiles at you, and after a moment of looking at you knocks her shoulders with yours. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry about Rafe. Our family doesn’t know where he came from, I think he was switched at birth.”

You sigh deeper this time. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I know but being on the end of Rafe’s wrath isn’t fun. Trust me, I’ve experienced it one too many times.” You see sincere worry etched on her face. “Just…try and avoid him if you can.”

You slowly bob your head along in agreement, eyebrows shooting up to look at her. “Like the plague.” You say seriously.

Sarah’s lips press together in a smile before giggles ring out as you lean into each other. Comparing Rafe to other diseases and disasters with Sarah until your stomach hurts from laughter.

Shared laughter in times of pain feels better than crying alone.

🌙

The swoosh of the glass door opening has you arousing from a deep sleep. Surfing had exhausted you, so you’re slow to realize that someone is crawling into bed with you.

“Lauren?” Your eyes are still closed as you're curled onto your side. She has the tendency to come into your room during the night if she’s had a nightmare and sleep with you. The bed dips and sways with the gentle movement, but she doesn’t answer. “You’re such a baby, what nightmare did you have now?” You sleepily ask, turning onto your back to look at her.

A scream scratches at your throat, but the sound gets trapped by a hand.

Above you is Rafe. Strands of hair shadow his eyes, his hand pressing your head to the pillow. Too shocked to do anything but blink up at him, your heart’s a hummingbird as it rams at the cage of your ribs. His blue eyes are steady as they stare at you, motionless like marble, just his chest expanding with each breath. It's silent as your eyes bounce along his face, from his set jaw to the straining tendons of his neck.

It's a limbo of eye contact, yours swimming with fearful tears as he barely blinks. Finally, Rafe inches his head down, nose skimming your cheek, the tip nudging at your healing cut. It circles to the apple of your cheek, tickling your peach fuzz as he makes his way to your ear.

A heavy inhale, then a groan. Rafe whispers your name.

Your body comes back to life, ankles kicking up into the air, struggling to open your mouth wider to scream. It’s easy for Rafe to grip your jaw tightly, the heel of his other hand pressing at the hollow of your shoulder as fingers curl in to anchor you down. His beautiful sharp features are pinched in anger, pink lips hidden in a thin line.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come for you, little angel?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, short nails grooving their way in the soft flesh of your cheeks.

You squeal in pain, in fear as you see violent desire burn in his eyes. There’s no anger overclouding you this time, no clever idea coming to mind. Just the pang of your heart as you realize you're entirely alone with him.

It doesn’t stop you from fighting. Balling your hands and hitting at his chest, forcing your elbows to straighten to push at his face. Rafe scowls, leaning his weight on his hand over your mouth, your teeth painfully grinding at the inside of your mouth as his other hand wrestles to take both your wrists. You push and push, moving as fast and hard as you can but it takes Rafe a minute to ensnare your wrists and pin them over your head.

He pants out loud, hard gusts of air while boring down on you. Fingers squeezing your wrists hard enough to where you feel skin move and glide over the bone, chafing together. You struggle not to make any noise, so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurting you.

“No pogues to save you here,” Rafe smiles cruelly. Your eyes don’t hold back the disdain you feel, a muffled grunt tickling his palm when you arch and throw your body back. “Your little tantrums aren’t going to work.” He responds, twisting at your wrists to make you cry out. “Now… are you going to be nice and quiet?”

His forceful hold on your mouth pulls on your face, forcing you to nod up and down. Rafe smiles wide with a condescending coo. “Good girl.”

Ever so slowly, he relives the pressure on your mouth. As much as you want to scream for help, you stay quiet knowing he can simply overpower you. You’ll have to wait for a better chance to escape.

Rafe waits, his hand at the ready for any small sound you’d make. You refuse to speak. He’s the one that broke into your room, surely, he can start the conversation he so desperately wants to have. You force yourself to look bored, though your body is rigid with fear and primed for flight.

Rafe half smiles. “You know… if you needed surfing lessons you could’ve just asked me.”

Your flat expression breaks. “Have you been stalking me?”

You don’t know why you’re surprised, after all, he knew where your rental was and broke in, but knowing he watched from afar is somehow more disturbing.

“Yeah, watched those pogues put their hands all over you, dirtying you with their touch.” His free hand strokes gently on your jawline to your chin, fingers drafting over your throat, a light press to the divot between your collarbones. The touch warrants unwanted goosebumps, you can feel the strength he holds back.

There are a couple of options you have right now.

You can interrogate him on why he’s here? How does he know where to find you? Is he going to delete that picture? You’d waste your breath however, Rafe could easily dodge them.

You can beg him to get off you, pout and cry to appeal to a softer, more rational side of him. You seriously doubt Rafe is ever rational.

They led to the same position – with him over you and in control.

One option left.

“I loved the way they touched me.”

Getting him angry.

And it’s so easy.

His blue eyes darken as he squints, teeth revealing themselves as his upper lip curls, lowering his face close to you again. His anger is near boiling as he opens his mouth to retaliate but with satisfaction, you steamroll over him.

“Especially when JJ did. Had a much better time with them than with you and that shitty coke you gave me!” You spit out.

That should get him pissed off enough that he’ll loosen his grip, and you’ll be quick to take advantage, you’ll poke at his eyes, and then…

Rafe smiles. A genuine smile, the anger slipping off like oil. A curious tilt to his head before he chuckles. “Coke? Is that what I told you?” He laughs again, boisterous. “I’m sorry baby I think I switched my baggies that night. I gave you that Special K.”

Your head jerks back in confusion, eyebrows creasing as you blink rapidly. Fuck, you hate him for making you ask: “What’s that?”

Rafe enjoys the way he has flipped the tables so quickly on you, laughter still reverberating in his chest. “You don’t know what K is?” You shake your head. “Y’know, K. Vitamin K? Ket?” Rafe hums, delighted.

Fingertips resume their trail across your chest when he finally answers. “Ketamine.”

Ketamine? Isn’t that a horse tranquilizer? Your eyes wander off to look behind him at the wall, disoriented with frustration at yourself and loathing for him. Vaguely, you remember feeling different that night, not the typical high you got with coke. It felt almost indescribable, dream-like. Like your heart was floating in your chest. Deep down you knew it wasn’t fully coke, but to learn it was a different drug entirely…You should’ve never taken anything from him. Why did you ever leave Louise’s side that night?

“It made you nice and relaxed for me,” Rafe continues during your silence. Taking advantage of your deep thinking to smell at your hairline. “Made you so damn needy.” He groans, thrusting his hips, and only now do you feel his hard-on. “Let’s recreate that night.”

Your eyes snap back to him, squealing and bucking like a wild horse. “In your fucking dreams!”

Rafe twists your wrists, the rub burning with each struggle you give. “Oh, you don’t wanna know what I dream about.” His insistent grinding forces your thighs apart. “Should I show you?”

Abruptly, his hand is pulling at your pajama shorts. The fabric cuts into your squirming hips as you hear the pop, pop, pop of seams breaking. Your erratic movements don’t deter him, your shorts are pulled off and reveal plain panties. Letting out a loud cry, you hope your family will hear, though they’re on different floors and on the opposite side of the house.

“Oh, no. None of that.” Rafe patronizes and before you can blink, cloth is in your mouth. “Remember these? Kept them as a little memento of you.”

You gag as he keeps pushing it further in, your tongue flat beneath the material making you drool rapidly, soaking it. Coughing makes it worse, that instinctual urge to spew out the uncomfortable presence strong but Rafe holds it there until drool is pooling and you're forced to swallow some of it.

“Can you taste my cum?”

His question is genuine and involuntary you sense the taste. The tang of something stale fills your tongue. It’s then, do you realize that your mouth is stuffed with your missing underwear. You kick your legs out angrily, a hidden tear skipping down as you gag again. Rafe huffs out laughter like it's no effort to hold you with one hand, arm bulging just the slightest. All you can see is his stupid face, but the rustling of clothes is undeniable, and it isn’t yours this time.

Rafe pushes his shorts down just enough to slip his hard cock out, the tip bumping on your clothed cunt. Your hips jolt back as Rafe settles his knees wider, rotating your thighs up so your feet aren’t grounded on the bed. It fucks with your balance and therefore your struggles, legs hanging up uselessly. Desperately, you shake your head and widen your eyes innocently, hoping to find some mercy inside him. Rafe coos at you, telling you how pretty you look, his fingers deftly hooking your panties to the side, revealing your bare pussy to him. It’s humiliating, the way he looks down at you, like a stolen prize he gets to devour.

You expect to feel his cock, pushing into you but you're surprised when it's his fingers petting at your slit. Whining, you shift your hips around trying to invade him, his touch oddly soft and exploring. Thumb pressing at your clit, circling and experimenting between various pressure. Rafe smirks when a strained moan is muffled.

“I dreamt about those lovely sounds you made. You could hardly get them out from how high you were.” Rafe reminisces, eyes bouncing between your face and pussy.

Fingers twisting, he angles his index and middle finger into you without warning. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bite on the fabric, ignoring the wet sensation covering his fingers. Shallowly, Rafe pumps his fingers in and out, a slight curl to them to hit at more sensitive spots. Pleasure steadily builds, the swipe of his thumb pulls at the hood of your clit, exposing the sensitive nub. The arch of his thumb is then rubbing on it, high whines stifled as your legs jerk.

His fingers pull out, your eyes popping open when you feel wet flesh trace at your lips. Vision blurry with tears, it takes a moment for everything to come into focus. Rafe is breathing heavily, mouth open in a half smile, fingertips smearing your juices across your lips. With you immobilized, Rafe looks like a sleep paralysis demon come to life. Hunched over as he nurses on your fear with pleasure. Rafe can’t keep his eyes still now, roving around your face, your tears to your chest. Dragging his hand down, he lifts your tank and reveals your bare tits. Your nipples are hard as you cave your chest in, trying to hide. The graze of his touch turns piercing when he twists your nipple, cruel laughter mixing with your yelps. He goes from one nipple to the other. Twisting, plucking, squeezing, making your nipples the most sensitive they’ve ever been. Sensitive skin reddening with the constant rough treatment. A single sweep of fingertips have you bowing your back in agonized pleasure, your tears soaking into your hairline.

One last squeeze and then Rafe’s hand is tugging your underwear to the side. Wildly, you shake your head no, grunting screams that shake your throat as your legs tense and kick. Your feet only find air and your throat finds Rafe’s hand around it. A warning squeeze.

Rafe chuckles, mocking a pout. “Don’t make me drug you again.”

He lets go of your throat to grip his cock, slapping it on your slit a few times, sliding it through your folds to coat himself. The tip pokes at your hole which makes your body tense up, but Rafe follows your body like the waves, pushing in and then back.

“Gotta relax or this’ll hurt far more than you’ll like,” Rafe mutters.

Your panties hide your curses at him, your body doing the opposite as your entrance tightens more. Rafe’s eyes flicker up at you in irritation. He crooks his head and forces halfway in. Even with the panties absorbing your screams, the gurgling of them is clearly heard, body twisting this way and that. Your tears run like constant rivers, the thick width of his cock burning its way in as you’re forced to stretch open. You work your pelvis floor and lower ab muscles to squeeze him out. Rafe grits his teeth as he stops moving his hips.

“Fuck.”

You’re too rigid for him to keep sliding in, not wet enough for his length to sneak deeper. His the biggest you’ve ever had, and you aren’t prepped enough to take him. Rafe’s determined though, rolling, and thrusting, filling you until his hips are flushed to you. Groans spill from him, some of them overpowering your own. The pressure of his cock is deep, that uncomfortable twinge pulling at the inside of your belly button. Once he has every inch inside you, he stalls for a few breaths, his eyes half lidden as he stares at the conjunction between you.

When he begins to pull back, you expect him to go all the way, but Rafe is always full of surprises. He pulls back a bit, only to ram right back in. It hurts to be so split open like this, knocking at your cervix with each harsh nudge, balls slapping at your ass. The grip on your wrists has made the skin numb, the other hand pushing down on your stomach when you arch your back to escape. You feel so full like you're going to burst at the seams like you’re breaking.

His hand creeps down to your hip, fingers gripping so hard the flesh is bubbled between the web of his fingers, pressing hard until your hips are tilting against the bed. The angle allows his cock to massage your top walls more acutely, slicking his cock to smoothly thrust in and out. It’s humiliating to be so wet for something your mind knows is wrong, a war on your body as the pleasure is infusing through the roadways of your nerve endings until your whole body is under a constant state of quivering.

“F-Fuck, I remember every second of that night.” Rafe grunts, head hanging as he watches the way his dick glistens before snapping his hips again. “The way you opened for me, so sweet. So eager.” The animalistic moans he lets out are almost as obscene as the sound of your slippery pussy.

“So fucking – shit – tighter now. Trying to push me out. Not goin’ anywhere until I cum in this pussy.”

The bed shakes back on the wall from how hard he drives his cock down, the slide getting easier with every thrust. The smell of him is tickling your senses suddenly and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. His mouth is hot along your trembling skin, lips smoothing the goosebumps that don’t seem to go away. Noisy, sloppy kisses imprint on your collarbones to your tits, a keening moan heard in your throat when his mouth envelopes one nipple. You almost forgot how sensitive they were. Your ribs twitch from the sucking, the tip of his tongue torturing you as it sends electric tremors down to your stomach. It's like you’re walking backwards to your doom because you don’t even know you're at the edge until you’re tripping at the point of no return when your body freezes.

It's painful when you cum, like a knot has wormed around your muscles, locking up in a spasm. An aching hurt of pleasure twists you up, coiling like a snake as you just keep cumming because Rafe won’t stop. Won’t stop his brutal pounding as he praises you with good girl, that’s it, take it, take it. Won’t stop pushing his cock in like he’s trying to make a home inside you, right underneath your ribcage.

Rafe’s moans reach their own high peak, vibrating into your breastbone and somewhere in the fog, you realize your wrists are free. Both of his arms are tucked under your back, crashing your chests together. The jerking of his cock feels odd in you, knowing he’s pouring his cum into you, but too fucked out to do anything. All you can think is thank God for birth control.

Time slows, Rafe holding you with relaxing muscles, barely there, slow kisses anywhere he can reach. The gentleness annoys you. With what little strength you have, you push at him until he lands next to you on the bed. Coughing while you gag, you take your drenched panties out of your mouth, heavy drool stringing along and then breaking as you throw them wherever, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Get out,” Your voice is raspy. “You got what you wanted."

Before you can move out of the bed to clean yourself up and cry in the bathroom, Rafe’s arm hooks over your stomach. Warm breath fogs over your shoulder and you grimace when his wet cock nudges at the back of your thigh. You haven’t gained enough energy to fully struggle in his hold, just a growl and a weak elbow to his abs.

“Aw, sweet angel.” He kisses the nook of your neck. “That night…Did you think I only fucked you once?”

#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameronxreader #fanfics #fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron #dark fics #smut #obx #obx smut

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garbinge · 10 months

Text

Something Out of the Ordinary

Steve Murphy x F!Reader (ft Javier Peña) From these August Prompts: “Why did you pretend not to know me" Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: All my fics are 18+, SMUT, angst, friends with benefits, pining, lying, injuries, bombs, explosions, canon level violence, mentions of needles, blood, death, etc. Based on Episode 6, Season 2 of Narcos.

A/N: This... is one of my favorite fics. I just, simply love them. <3 Narcos Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini

In hindsight, you probably should have seen every red flag this situation with Steve had to offer. You met in a bar that had security in a bulletproof vest at the front door and patted everyone down that entered the space. Everyone. No one was exempt from that, That was red flag number 1. Red flag number 2 was that neither of you ever talked about work. It never came up, most of your conversations were fueled by other topics, more steamy ones, and if they were tamer it was usually about the past and the future, never the present. It added to the allure of the whole situation between you two. Red flag number 3 was you were his confidential informant. Now yes, that contradicted the second red flag. When you said you didn’t talk about work, you knew Steve was part of the US government, he was a white boy in the middle of Bogata after all. It was generally the day to day that you avoided talking about, the fact that you didn’t exactly sign CI checks or fill out paperwork made the department he worked in a mystery to you. He didn’t exactly come out and ask questions directly either, you two just…talked. Your knowledge of the neighborhood Escobar had grown up in was valuable. At some point, work came second, it was an excuse to meet, an excuse to go back to his apartment or for him to come back to yours. Meetups turned from once a week to multiple times a week. That’s when you began noticing the stress Steve wore, it was apparent on his eyes, it weighed on his shoulders, as twisted as it sounds it made your moments together more special.

Tonight you waited for Steve at your place, he had a key, for emergencies you told yourself. The slamming of your door startled you, you jumped in your seat on the couch and grabbed the closest thing to you as a weapon. The candle jar was gripped tightly in your hand over your head ready to throw. As Steve approached, you let out a sigh while your eyes closed and your entire body deflated.

“You planning on killin' me with a candle?” He asked as he shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the recliner that was diagonal to you.

“Yea, you don’t go slamming doors like that here, we’re all on edge.” You were looking up to him as he walked over to you.

He knew what that meant, the news was constantly reporting about the Los Pepes killings and the drug cartels. Steve wanted to assume that you knew that he was somehow involved in it all, he’d ask you questions since you lived in the neighborhood that Escobar grew up in. It was never anything of substantial weight but it did help make informed decisions about the man.

“I’m sorry I startled you.” He leaned down over you and placed a quick kiss to your forehead while resting his one hand on the back of the couch and his other to grab the candle from you and place it back on the end table. As he pulled closer to you again, he landed a kiss on your lips, this one was everything but quick, he leaned into you and took his time as his tongue danced around yours and your lips moved in sync with each other. Before you knew it you were both horizontal on the couch, at some point before that both of you had removed your clothing.

Now, Steve was breathing heavy against your face as he pumped himself inside you. It was messy, maybe a little desperate but you could feel the tension all throughout his body as your fingers danced along his back. Your legs wrapped around his torso in an effort to bring him closer to you, his chest pressed against yours as he melted into you. Your throat burned as the moan left your mouth right into Steve’s ear.

“God, I love the sound you make.” He said with a grizzly voice as he began to move quicker in and out of you.

“Please don’t stop.” You begged him, your voice didn’t feel like your own when you said it, the desperation was seeping into you now as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to that climax.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Steve said, keeping up his pace.

You felt your walls start to tremble in anticipation, you knew you had more in you though and decided tonight was a night that called for it.

“Let me be on top.” It was a demand, you weren’t going to take no for an answer. You bit your lip as the pressure from Steve pushing in and out of you slowed, it didn’t stop completely but the motion had dropped in speed significantly and that was bringing out more desire in you.

“I thought you didn’t want me to stop?” He had a grin on his face but before you could even argue with him he was exiting you and sitting on the couch waiting for you to sit down on him. As his member left your insides a groan of frustration left your mouth despite being the one telling him to do this but the motion of him leaving your walls left you yearning for more.

Quickly, you moved on top of him, grabbing him in your hand before letting it slip right back into you. Your head fell back in satisfaction until Steve cupped it with his hand forcing you to look at him as you moved your hips around him before beginning to move up and down on him. Your knees were perfectly straddling him as you felt him hit every inch inside of you, while one hand was resting on the back of you head, the other was on your breast, squeezing it tight as he enjoyed every motion you made.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, you know that?” Steve asked before sitting up to grab your nipple in his mouth, letting his tongue dance around it. It was just as much for him as it was for you, the moment he began you felt him stiffen even more inside you as if that was possible, the pulsating of his erection was driving you insane and when his eyes looked up from in between your breasts, tongue still flicking against your nipple it sent you somewhere feral.

Without a second thought you pushed him back against the couch and began bouncing up and down on him, at first letting your knees do the work to bring you up and down but then ultimately collapsing onto him and letting your ass pick up the slack of jumping up and down.

“Fuck.” Steve grabbed onto your hips and pressed you down harder with each movement, as you lifted up and you felt him leave you it only made you want him more and that extra pressure of his tip hitting deep in you was satisfying that craving each time.

“You fuck me so good.” You knew the compliment would fuel him more.

“You’re fucking me, baby.“ He managed to let out a breathy chuckle as he looked up at you amazed.

Steve was starting to get eager, you could see it in his eyes and feel it in his motions, the way he was looking at you.

“Then fuck me.” Another demand but this one was said at a whisper.

You didn’t need to repeat yourself, Steve sunk down into the couch a little more before getting his footing correct to begin to eagerly pump himself in you. The sweat dripping off both of you was insane, the workout you both put in tonight was everything Steve needed and more and you were happy to help.

“Floor.” You said with barely any breath or functionality left but Steve was quick to move you both there, your bodies moving your coffee table with ease across the carpet to make room.

He was seconds away from becoming undone and you did what you knew he loved and what you knew was going to send you over the edge. You rode him, your hands resting against his chest and his arms releasing from around you in awe as his head stretched up from the floor to watch you. Your clit rubbed against his skin as his erection pulsated in you.

Just as Steve grabbed your hips and tried to pull you further onto his nerve as he finished you let out a loud cry as you hit your own peak. Collapsing on Steve was all the movement you had left in you at the moment but that was until you felt how sticky and hot the both of you were so you lifted off him and rolled over onto the carpet, letting your arms be the only thing touching for the next few minutes as you let every exhale out deeply.

It had to have been five minutes easily that passed as you two caught your breath before you even thought about moving, but eventually you knew you were going to need to hydrate.

“You want water?” You asked as you sat up on the ground grabbing your pajama shirt and underwear and opting to leave your pants in their newfound spot on the ground.

“Please.” Steve said, breathing deeply as he laid flat on the ground, his hand going to rest on the bridge of his nose as he caught his own breath.

As you walked back to him, you noticed he was in another world. His mind was elsewhere and luckily you had done this so many times that you didn’t take it personally. Based on your intimacy together he had a lot of built up tension.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You interrupted him, placing a hand on his lower abdomen just above the blanket that was covering him despite the fact he had put his boxers back on while you were in the kitchen.

He grabbed the water from your hands as he sat up, now the two of you sitting next to each other on the ground with your knees being brought up to your chests as you looked directly at one another.

“You callin’ me cheap?” He smirked.

Deflection. It was typical of him, but you knew if you didn’t break a face he’d give in. He stared at you for a few seconds before letting out an ‘ah’ as his head dropped. Steve’s body collapsed backwards in a dramatic display but you still weren’t giving up. You sat there patiently waiting for him to give you anything, you never expected details anyway.

“You ever think about what's good and bad?” Steve asked as he stared at the ceiling.

“Like right and wrong?” You asked him ready to carry out the conversation wherever it went.

“Yea, that.” Steve agreed with you still looking up at the ceiling.

“I do, it’s not exactly clear cut though.” His eyes snapped to you when you said that. There was a bit of shock on his face. “Don’t look at me like that, you ask deep vague questions you’re gonna get deep vague answers.” You swatted him and he let out a chuckle as he dodged it.

“How do you tow that line, make those choices?” There was curiosity in his voice.

“I don’t know if I exactly tow it, I mean I’m not saying the choices are easy but, I follow my gut. I trust my gut.” You nodded as you thought through your answer.

“What about other people around you?” He asked a follow up pretty quickly. “Do you trust their gut?”

“Depends on who.” You leaned forward and raised your eyebrows. “But I have a feeling my good and bad are way different than your good and bad.”

You might not have known that he was talking about his partner, about Javier Peña and his involvement with some “bad” people. Peña’s questioning about 'if the good guys were them' weighed on him, but with you, he could let that all go and live in a bubble.

Steve let out a breath at that one as he sat up again, leaning forward so his head rested against yours. “I want to know all about your good and bad.” The smirk on his face was devilish.

But it worked. That was it for the conversation you two had, the rest of the night was filled with sex, laughs, and more sex.

The next day you woke up to an empty apartment, which wasn’t unlike any other time. You weren’t exactly a morning person and Steve was always out as the sun broke through the sky. There was a note on your kitchen counter though, underneath an empty mug of coffee.

I’ll be thinking about last night all day. You’re rotting my mind, woman. See you tonight.

A smile grew on your face as you read it and grabbed the mug to place in the sink. You had just enough time to get ready and head into your job. It wasn’t anything glamorous, well, for you at least. For the people that held celebrations at the venue you waited, served, and set up it was as glamorous as it could get. But for you, you wore your black slacks, white button up and black vest ready to sweat the day away and numb your ears to the sound of the kitchen staff buzz.

It was still early on in the day when you heard people with badges were around questioning people at the event space. You had managed to avoid any sign of it which made you think it was just rumors, that was until you walked out with your checklist in hand as you looked around the hall to make sure all the cloths, napkins, and plating were accounted for on the tables. As you counted the last table’s dish ware, you heard someone from behind you call out.

“Disculpe, le podemos hacer un par de preguntas?”

“Si,” You answered mindlessly as you adjusted a fork before turning around and practically feeling your breath get stuck in your throat.

Steve was standing feet from you wearing one of the few shirts you knew he kept at your place because you had washed it earlier this week for him. That face just confirmed you weren’t imagining him here, this was entirely real. Your eyes moved down to see the badge resting on his hip and then they immediately moved to who spoke to you and who you assumed was his partner, he was holding out a wallet with an I.D showing. Javier Peña, DEA.

DE fuckin’ A, you thought to yourself. Of course, it all clicked in your head now, to be honest you were starting to feel naive for it not clicking before, although the truth was you just never really thought of it, but that was sort of a sorry ass excuse.

Quickly, you shook your thoughts from your head and went to say something piffy to Steve but he cut you off.

“Yo soy Agente Steve Murphy y este es mi compañero Javier Peña, hablas inglés?”

Oh. That’s what we’re doing. Those were the words in your head right now as you reached out and shook the hand that was cupped against your chest last night.

“Yes, I do.” You said looking between both of them trying your best to hide any telling feature on your face since Steve wanted to keep it a secret.

“Great, uh, we wanted to know if you heard of anything unusual or suspicious happening around here?” Steve said looking a tad bit uncomfortable as he stared at you.

“No, I haven’t. But I’m not really the one that would. I just set up for events and serve them.” You waved around the room. That was more information on your job than Steve had ever heard before. I guess it was just the day to be learning new things about eachother.

“Actually, we think you’re exactly the one that would. Any suspicious deliveries? Any extra hands that maybe weren’t here during the event planning stages?” Javier chimed in.

“No, I’ve just been working with the Rodriguez family on this wedding.” You asked confused now. “Should I be concerned about something?” Your eyes now fell onto Steve, you were hoping if you looked at him he wouldn’t lie to you. Javier caught on to your glance, frowning trying to wrap his own brain around why you were staring at him.

“No.” Steve said, staring right back at you.

“Well then, gentlemen. I really should get back to work then.” You turned to the side to adjust a chair and began taking a step back before quickly facing them again. “But who should I call if I see anything out of the ordinary?”

“Here’s my card.” Javier stepped forward in front of Steve before he could even think of doing it himself. “You can call me.”

Taking the card from him you nodded in thanks and tucked it in your chest pocket with a smile and retreated back to the kitchen to process every second of what had just happened.

“What was that?” Javi turned to look at Steve as they stood in the same place.

“Nothing, just felt like she might’ve known something.” Steve shrugged, “figured staring at her might get her to break.”

Javi nodded, believing the excuse for now. “Well let’s hope she calls.” Steve’s head practically snapped over to Javi now looking at him unbelievably. Luckily that was how Steve looked at Javi every time he flirted with a girl. “With a lead, obviously.” Javi clarified as they walked out.

You were now in the thick of it, you were walking out appetizers, hors d'oeuvres, drinks, and meals, balancing trays of plates full of food and then empty dishes. It was one of the reasons you loved this job so much, there was little room to think outside of what your were doing. Your thoughts consisted of what you were doing and what you were going to do next and that was it. Most days, you were grateful for that, it allowed you space from things, a break from overthinking, but today grateful wouldn’t be the word used to detail the events to come.

The noise was loud, it could have been described as a boom, there was a bright white light followed by yellow and orangey tones that left your skin feeling hot. One moment you were standing up and the next you were on the ground, your clothes torn, ash peppered on your face, and an ache in your lower abdomen. Looking around you, taking in your surroundings you saw the smoke everywhere, things sparking in the distance, people next to you unconscious, or you hoped just unconscious, the true terror of it all was the screams. You knew that was a trigger that was going to live in your mind for a while.

By the luck of the draw, there was a Nokia phone next to you perfectly in tact. A perk of being in a room full of people with money, illegal or not. Without hesitation you grabbed the business card Javier gave you and dialed the number on the phone. You didn’t say much, it was honestly hard to speak at all with the pain in your abdomen.

“Something out of the ordinary.” You said in the line when someone answered, you didn’t bother to keep the phone to your ear, you just laid there in the hopes that maybe another miracle would happen. As the crashing down of part of the building alerted you awake, the adrenaline rush kicked in and you took your torn sleeve to put pressure on your abdomen wound. There didn’t look to be any shrapnel in it but it was likely cut by something flying by in the explosion.

At some point, emergency services got there, on their own time. Your injuries weren’t life threatening since you were able to apply enough pressure until EMS arrived. They applied a more sturdy and sterile tourniquet around your lower torso. Now you were waiting for approvals and calls from doctors to get an IV started or for a contract ambulance to arrive to take you to a hospital. This was just all the typical procedure for instances like these in Colombia. As you laid in the gurney in the middle of the buzzing parking lot, you saw Steve’s face. Hallucinating. You convinced yourself it was just a hallucination from all the blood you lost and lack of hydration until you heard his southern drawl as he spoke.

“Let me through, DEA. Let me fuckin’ through god damnit!” He pushed through the few police that were blocking off the area.

Without a second thought he was holding you. His hand cupping your face and eyes scanning your body.

“Are you okay, where are you hurt?” He asked both questions back to back without letting you answer as his eyes traveled along your body looking for injuries. He noticed the tourniquet around your abdomen and you felt his grip loosen in shock and then tighten in worry. “What happened?”

You lifted your hand up to grab the bicep of the arm that was extended out to your face. “I got sliced with something in the explosion, I applied pressure while I was in there and when they pulled me out they put this tourniquet.”

“You’re telling me this is still an open wound?” There was anger starting to bubble up in his voice. “Why are you just sitting here?” He was now looking around for someone to help.

You tightened your grip on his bicep so he would look at you. “It’s 2AM, they need to get approvals from doctors before they get an IV drip started and we’re waiting on transport to the hospital. I’m considered stabilized on the scene so I’ll be one of the last people out of here.”

Steve couldn’t believe the words he was hearing, he had been in Colombia a long time but somethings still managed to shock him. Pulling away from you, he started looking for someone to help. As he left your gaze your eyes fell on someone else. Javier. He was staring at the both of you but now just you. Offering up a small smile, he nodded at you and quickly averted his attention to Steve who had begun to yell out at someone.

“I don’t give a fuck what you gotta do, but you’re gonna get an IV in her immediately and the next transport vehicle that arrives on scene is taking her.” He was in one of the young EMTs faces who clearly had no idea what he was saying.

Javi was quick to intervene and rest his hand on Steve’s shoulder to pull him back and take over the situation, talking calmly to the EMT asking for the IV assistance and next transport while Steve stepped back and ran his hands through his hair and rested them on the top of his head as he processed everything. Turning around caused him to look at you, laying there with the smokey event venue in the background behind you.

Javi startled him as he tapped Steve’s torso with the back of his hand, both of them looking at you now without your knowledge. “They got the approval, he’s grabbing the stuff for the IV. Next transport is gonna take her to Clínica las Américas, it’s the best hospital in Colombia and bilingual so you can talk with the doctors.” Javi said, arms crossed.

Steve nodded his head and brought his hands back down to his side, letting one of them run down his face over his mouth before giving Peña gratitude. “Thanks.” Before saying anything else, he pushing every single thought aside and approached you as the EMT came back to insert an IV drip.

“Voy a empezar una vía intravenosa, para darte medicina para el dolor y mantenerte hidratado mientras esperamos por el transporte.” The EMT spoke to you as he wrapped a band around your arm.

Steve grabbed your other hand in his. “They’re gonna start an IV and then take you to the clinic.”

You had to laugh at him repeating what the EMT said to you, so you let a small chuckle go and squeezed his hand because you knew it was simply him caring for you.

“Why did you pretend not to know me?” Your attention was on him.

“For this exact reason.” He spoke in a low voice. You nodded, understanding his viewpoint. “Were you thinking about last night?”

His eyebrows frowned at that in confusion which made you smile as he tried to put together what you meant.

“Your note. You said you were going to be thinking about last night all day.” You shouldn’t have been smirking the way you were after the events that occurred but it was mental pain medicine.

Steve let a smile form on his face. “That’s what you’re thinking about, really?”

“That and your partner trying to holler at me.” You raised your brows in anticipation of Steve’s reaction.

“Holler at you?” Steve laughed. “He was concerned.”

“Mhm, I’m sure you were annoyed immediately after that.”

Steve nodded defeatedly and got serious when he looked back down at you. “He actually uh, was able to set up sending you to Clínica las Américas, best docs in the country apparently.”

For a moment you kept serious and told him to thank Peña for you, you also thanked him in the process before letting a grin back on your face.

“What?” Steve asked with a chuckle himself.

“Your spanish.” You paused and smiled and cut him off as he tried to argue with you. “It’s getting better.” You complimented him.

Before you two could continue the conversation the transport was arriving, and the EMT was starting to unlock your gurney wheels to bring you over. As you began moving and your hand detangled from Steve’s, he called out to you. “I’ll meet you over there, okay?!”

For a moment he stood there watching you get loaded into the ambulance as Javi approached him again.

“So who is she?” He asked genuinely.

There was a moment where Steve thought on how to answer. Lying, making something up, telling part of the truth, getting into the details of it. Finally he landed on one.

“She’s my C.I.” And with that, he started walking to the car letting Javi sit with those words by himself.

Javi frowned and nodded in approval before following him to the car.

“Way to go, Murphy.”

#narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #narcos netflix #narcos #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy #steve murphy fanfiction #javier peña #javi peña #javier peña & reader

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brunchable · 2 years

Text

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be — Part 2 || Doctor Strange × F!Reader

Word count: 4.4K

Genre: Revenge/PayBack, Rejection, Swearing.

Special mentions: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner

A/N: There will be a Part 3. Listen, in this universe everyone is alive and well okay?!

You've been drinking away the pain that Stephen has given you late at night for the past few days as a way to pass the time during your free time. You haven't seen or heard from him in a long time, and you are positive that he has already changed his phone number as a direct result of the drunk texts you sent him when you were drinking. You have absolutely no way of communicating with him at this point.

“You know, I was actually the stupid one. I made myself blind to the fact that he can’t even choke on the word ‘I love you’,” You laughed at yourself, “What does Christine have that I don’t? Is he attracted to women with a large mole on their cheek? Should I get one tattooed?”

Legs crossed, martini in hand, a man has been watching you end up being left alone or avoided by people who initially wanted to talk to you. He pans from your feet up to your head. You wore white sneakers, patterned ankle socks, plain black dress that sits too loose around your waist. You had half-lidded eyes due to your drunken state and rumpled hair tied up in a messy bun. Tony shakes his head. Jesus Christ. He thought. He says something to the woman who currently sits at the table with him. She then nods, gets up and walks away.

As the Bartender pours you a second shot. You're now showing pictures from your phone to the Bartender who showed no interest, "This is my Aunt. Her two favourite things are Cats the movie and my ex. I hate both of her two favourite things."

A sharp whistle interrupts your one-sided drunk conversation with the bartender. You averted your gaze from your phone and your eyes landed at Tony who was looking at you. He motions for you to come over. It felt like every move Tony makes is practised to be perfectly cool.

You turn your head left and right before pointing at yourself, "Me?"

Tony nods and mouthed, "Yeah, you."

You shrug, taking your drink with you as you stand, and wobbles over towards Tony's table.

"Tony Stark." He offered his hand out for you to shake.

"(Y/N)—"

"I'd like to buy you a drink, (Y/N)."

"I already have a drink." You casually showed him your ice melted strawberry daiquiri.

"Let me buy you a drink, (Y/N)." He insisted.

"Okay."

Tony simply motions to the Bartender who nods. You take the seat opposite from Tony and felt compelled to tell him your sad break-up story with Stephen,"My boyfriend dumped me because he's still loves his ex Christin—"

"Christine Palmer, yes, (Y/N), I know. But how do I know that?" Tony cuts you off and tilts his head.

"What—I don't know?" You bat your lashes and shrug quite dumbly at his question.

"You've never met me before—how do I know something so intimate about you? Wanna know how I know that (Y/N)?" Tony asked, flashing you a wry smile before taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Uhhh Christine Palmer has screwed you too?" You snorted into a laugh but stopped immediately when the man didn’t laugh with you.

"No, it's because that's all I've heard—that's what we've all heard. For the last three nights, I've watched you batter every poor soul in this bar with your sad-sack loser sob story that no one asked for."

You take this in, pulling a fake smile and feeling offended you stand up to leave, "You know what, I don't need this crap—"

"Sit down, (Y/N)."

"Okay." You murmured and you sat back down immediately. Either Tony's tone was that powerful or you're just that drunk.

"(Y/N), I'm going to make you an offer, it's probably the best offer you're ever going to get, and you're extremely drunk, so it's wildly important that you don't answer until I've finished and you've taken a few moments to process what I'm saying. Do you understand?"

You go to answer but Tony holds up a finger to shut you up. You close your mouth and stop yourself from protesting. Once you're settled, Tony continues,"As I said, I've been watching you for three nights now and I can say, without hesitation, that you are the sorriest woman I've ever seen in my life—"

You took a deep breath to say something but Tony quickly cut you off once again before anything even came out of your mouth.

"Don't interrupt, (Y/N), it's the truth, and you need to hear it. You're sitting there with your messy bed hair, getting drunk on watered down strawberry daiquiri like a fourteen-year-old girl and probably wearing your grandma's cardigan—I don't know if I want to help you or euthanize you. We should burn that before it hurts anybody else." He stared pointedly at your cardigan.

"I bought these from Target, thank you very much."

Tony scrunches his face, "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that—Look. I'm going to help you. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just bored. Maybe all my friends have abandoned me for wives and children and labradoodle puppies, who cares why? Why doesn't matter. The point is, I can see that you got a pretty face under those unkempt brows, and awfully thick long hair. I'm bored as hell and need a project. So if you want, I'm going to help you rediscover your foxiness. Do you remember when you lost it?"

You shake your head "No. I don’t even think I had any. . ."

“Doesn't matter, we'll find it. And when we do—when I'm through with you, that ex-boyfriend of yours is going to rue the day he decided to give up on you too early. That's my offer. What do you say?” Tony leans forward and anticipates your answer.

You stare at him blankly in a long beat of silence. You found the reflection of yourself in a black glass over his shoulder and found a girl who has lost herself over a man who didn’t even treasure her. You go for a drink, almost using the straw... then catch yourself so you put down the drink and look up at Tony with a slight determination in your eyes, “Yeah, okay.”

"Westford mall food court, Thursday, six o'clock PM."

"I'm sorry, what?" You asked but Tony didn't repeat himself.

Instead downs his drink, nods at the woman whom he was with before, "You ready to go?"

She nods, subservient, and follows him out of the bar. You shook your head, and just in time, the drink Tony ordered for you arrived. You stare between the watered down, bland drink you had and the golden liquid in a short glass and you chose the whiskey.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The next day

You anxiously stood on the escalator, “What the hell am I thinking?” You thought out loud as you made your way towards the food court where you’re supposed to meet Tony. You almost forgot that you had plans with him, so you left in a rush and ended up wearing a plain white shirt and jeans with floral patterned crocs.

Meanwhile, you see Tony, standing against the railing in the food court, holding an empty box of doughnuts, the last piece in his hand—looking cool as ever.

"You're late," he pauses and offers you a doughnut, "Krispy Kreme?"

"No thanks. So what exactly are we—"

After finishing his bite of the doughnut he interrupts you again, "How much money can you afford to spend on clothes today?"

"I dunno. Four hundred?"

"Let's make that four thousand."

"Oh-kay." You press your lips together with a grimace, collecting all the patience you've got.

"We'll start with shoes." Tony paused to look down at what you were wearing and looked visibly offended, "W-What in the abomination are those?"

You look down at your footwear, "They're crocs. I left in a hurry, okay?"

"Well no wonder why you're late—Let me see those crocs you're wearing."

You hold up your foot so he could see it better.

"Take them off." Tony demands and you scowl at him but you did what you’re told anyway. You bend down to take one off, "Other one too, please?" Tony holds out his hands, after you've taken both crocs off. You shrug with a sigh and hand Tony the pair then he simply turns and throws them over the railing.

"What the hell, Tony?!" You screamed and looked over the railing to see your crocs now on the lower level.

"Sorry, that wasn't me. It was my alter ego called Captain Hook—he hates crocs." Tony sarcastically replied, he clearly didn't care if you got angry or not.

"Those were my favourite shoes!’

"Do you know why crocs have holes in them?" Tony asked in a serious manner.

Now slightly irritated at his inconsiderateness, you asked, "I don't know? Style?"

"It has holes because that's where your dignity drains out."

"Well now you're just being mean—"

"DO YOU WANT YOUR DIGNITY DRAINING OUT OF THOSE HOLES (Y/N)?"

"No! Of course not."

"Then don't ever walk around in Crocs, ever—never again. Let's go."

DESIGNER SHOE STORE

You follow Tony barefoot in a designer shoe store, cluelessly following him around like a puppy and very nervous at the amount of money he is expecting you to spend today.

Looking around, feeling out of place, you say to him,"I think this whole thing might have been a bad idea."

Tony ignores you and grabs a pair of Black Jimmy Choo Heels. You gulped as you stared at the price of it. You had a fair amount of money to spare, you just didn't like spending it unwisely like this.

"Anyone can rebuild their entire wardrobe with sixteen simple items. Try them on." Tony hands you the shoes and pushes you down by the shoulder to take a seat.

"Ha! I think I read that in a magazine." You retorted, carefully putting the heels on both your feet.

"You did, cause I've written it."

"Really?"

Tony chuckles and you chuckle back, clearly unsure what his chuckle symbolises, "You really don't know who I am, do you?"

You shake your head, "Nope!"

Tony shakes his head and returns to choosing more shoes for you, "Numbers one and two: pair of pumps, pair of stilettos."

You probably just spent a little bit more than an hour at that shop since Tony was more picky than you were, and because of this, you probably let him select the style for you because he is obviously more experienced in this department. You got up and wandered about, and while you were there, you looked at a pair of socks that had some adorable patterns on them. Tony moves closer to you and slaps the back of your hand, which causes you to release your grip on the item.

"I'm sorry, I'm lost—are you going to tell me if you really did write for a magazine?" You asked as he led you towards the cashier to pay for all the heels he's chosen for you.

"Your credit card please?" Tony ignores your question again and holds his hand out. You chew on the inside of your cheeks and roughly hand him your credit card.

As you go from shop to shop, you'll notice that each time you leave the store, your arms will be carrying a growing number of purchases. Tony never stops describing your wardrobe necessities, which results in you receiving an overwhelming amount of knowledge. What you need to do is make a note of everything that he says.

In a Designer Clothing store

You were instructed to stand on a platform while you were being fitted for a custom outfit. Tony wanted you to seem intelligent, sophisticated, and seductive rather than trashy.

"A set of Blazer and pants, preferably of five colours: one black, one grey, one beige, one brown, and one patterned. One camel coat." Tony leans in towards the tailor as they grab all your clothing.

You stand in front of the counter again then he calls out,"Card!" Tony holds his hand out and you hand it to him reluctantly this time.

Levi Strauss Store

You held jeans in front of you, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Two pairs of quality jeans." Tony said behind you.

"These are two hundred and thirty dollars each! Can't we just go to, I don't know, Target?" You suggested this while you were still looking at the jeans and in your peripheral vision; Tony pinched the bridge of his nose while shaking his head and then left you in the shop without saying a word. You immediately dash outside in an effort to intercept the man before he ascends the escalator that leads to the carpark.

"Alright, I'm sorry! Don't leave!"

Tony immediately turns back, standing right in front of you, sandwiching your head with his hand and he finally answers, "No, (Y/N). We can't just go to Target."

"Honestly though, what's wrong with Target?"

"In Hell, every store is Target, that's what's wrong with Target, (Y/N). It's the lowest common denominator. Be better than fucking Target. Say it to me." Tony stated with conviction.

"I'm better than Target."

Designer Dress Store

In a dressing room, dresses come flying over the wall at you as you struggle to get another dress over your neck, "Will you quit throwing dresses over the wall?! I haven't even worn the first one yet!"

"If you needed help, you should really say something—Hey fancy face, mind helping my lady in there?" Tony called one of the staff to go into your changing room to help you.

You jumped when the female staff barged into your dressing room. When she saw you, you might’ve heard her mumble, "oh god." And immediately helped you untangle yourself in the dress.

"Come out and show me when you're ready." Tony demanded and sat down on the rose coloured ottoman with champagne in his hand.

You come out wearing a sky blue shimmering dress and Tony grimaces, "You look like you're going Ice skating—Next!"

You narrowed your eyes on him and went back inside to change into your second dress. You came out, this time wearing a black blazer dress. Tony tilted his head nodding his head in approval, "Add that in the bag—Next."

You got changed into another stylish dress—upon seeing his unimpressed face you immediately got back inside to change without Tony needing to remind you, you go back in and change with a different outfit.

"Seriously? You chose that? You look like a frilled-neck lizard!" Tony waves his hands in the air as you walk back inside.

“Oh shut up!” You mumbled.

You lost count at how many dresses you tried on and it was beginning to feel like this was a fashion show. This time before you could even get out he shakes his head, "You chose most of these dresses—" You blamed him.

"NEXT."

In a Beauty Store

Tony leads you into the skin section and quickly tosses you a tube.,” You rub this in around your eye every night and every morning.”

After catching the tube you asked, “What does it do?”

“It gives you x-ray vision, (Y/N),” he pauses, “It tightens the skin around your eyes. The bags under your eyes look like you could pack for a weekend away.”

You stop reading the directions at the back and examine your undereyes in a mirror, “Oh my God, it does.”

In a Salon

You sit in front of a mirror while a beautiful hairdresser examines your dull, straightened hair, “What kind of hairstyle do you want?” She asked.

“I’ll answer it,” Tony held a finger up, interrupting you again—it’s probably a force of habit now, “Cut her hair just above her shoulders, perm her hair to a loose wave as well, maybe dye it a bit darker with a few highlights.” Tony suggested while envisioning you with what he thought suited you.

“Yes, sir.” She chuckles as she prepares all her equipment.

“But—” You tried to object but the hairdresser started chopping off your hair.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

After Tony and the stylist made extra effort to hide your new look from you, Tony urged you to change into one of the Salon bathrooms where they covered the mirror.

Tony knocked at the door, “What are you putting on?”

“Items one, three, eleven, and fourteen!” You yelled through the door as you got changed into the clothes you’ve chosen out of the bag.

“Perfect,” He said and then stood back next to the stylist, “You smell great by the way.”

She giggles, smitten towards Tony’s charm,“Thanks.”

“What are you doing tonight?” Tony asked, glancing at the female.

“I don't know.”

“That's okay, I do.” Tony states nonchalantly. Earning another giggle from the female.

“Seriously? You just ask her out like that?” You complained through the door.

“Yes, just like that.”

“And it works?”

“Yes.” They exchanged looks and said in unison.

“Crazy.” You chuckle to yourself and prepared yourself to head out the bathroom, “Okay, I feel kind of stupid but…”

You slowly open the bathroom door and found Tony and your hairdresser waiting to get the first look of your transformation. Their eyes pan from your expensive high knee brown boots, to your red and black plaid dress with a beige turtleneck inside, matched with an oversize leather jacket and lastly your new haircut.

You were a new woman and both Tony and the hairdresser found themselves gawking at you.

“Wow.” The woman uttered.

“Yep.” Tony nodded in agreement.

“Can I fold the turtle neck a little?” You asked innocently.

“Shut up, (Y/N),” Tony paused and called one of the male customers in the salon, “Hey you! You'd fuck her, right?”

“Jesus! Stop that!” You yelled at Tony, feeling embarrassed that the stranger was now checking you out.

“Uh yeah, probably.” He shrugged.

“What?! You would?”

The man’s expression then changed into confusion. Tony shook his head at you, “You see that, (Y/N)? The simple act of opening your mouth instantly causes this nice man to lose interest in sleeping with you. Now I realise that your personality is actually your weakest link.”

You blink a couple of times, and with a pained smile you reply,” Well, that's the meanest thing anyone's ever said to me.”

“No, (Y/N). The meanest thing anyone's ever said to you is this: your ex-boyfriend dumped you because you lost sight of what really mattered: you didn’t love yourself. So of course you wouldn’t be able to keep him content—as a woman and probably as a lover.”

Your lips began to quiver, “Yeah, okay, that was meaner.”

“What’s your ex-boyfriend’s name anyway?”

“Stephen Strange.”

Tony snorted and laughed but stopped when he realised that you were serious, “Wait, you’re serious? Stephen Strange? The Wizard?”

You nodded awkwardly and circled your thumbs around each other.

“Well, shit.”

You furrowed your brows, “Why do you know him?”

“Of course I know him. For Pete’s sake, (Y/N). I’m Iron Man.”

Your eyes widened, “What the fuc—”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Later that night, Tony invited you at the bar again for another lesson. You sit at a secluded booth where no one will be able to interrupt the both of you. You were dressed very well this time however, your stride lacked confidence which Tony was quick to point out the moment you sat with him.

“You need to put your chin up more and have an ‘I don’t give a shit about your opinion’ attitude,” He advised and he slid you a wine glass.

“I can’t change in a matter of hours Tony—What are you going to be teaching me anyway?” You asked.

“I’ve arranged an Avengers party, which is in a couple of days and guess who’s going to be there,” Tony swirls his wine glass with a cunning smirk growing on the corners of his lips.

“Stephen?”

“Mhm,” He takes a sip, “And I’m inviting you too. Now, the lesson today is ‘how not to freeze like a deer in headlights when you see your ex’— Now pretend I’m Stephen, when you walk in, what do you say to me?”

You purse your lips, trying to think hard, “Long time, no see—”

“Wrong! He’s going to think you’ve been wanting to see him. Try again.”

“Hey asshole!”

Tony palms his face, “No, he’s going to think you’re not over him.”

“Well to be honest, I am not.” You admitted.

“Do you want him to regret leaving you (Y/N)? Or will you play easy to get? He played you, he probably only got in a relationship with you because he needed a rebound—No. . . you are the rebound.”

“Okay, what do I do then?!”

“You ignore him. You pretend he doesn’t exist, don’t look at him, don’t acknowledge him—that will hurt his ego. Flirt with other men, laugh at their jokes. If he makes the first move, act uninterested but not in a bitter way,” Tony explained thoroughly, “Trust me, you’ll get him wrapped around your fingers—men want something they can’t have. Can you do that?”

“I-I think I can. . .”

“Yes you can! I’ll be there anyway, I’ll keep a close eye on you.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The night of Tony’s party finally arrived—he was kind enough to send you a driver for when Stephen is already in the Stark Tower. As you checked yourself out through your vanity one last time, you finally received a text from Happy. You took a deep breath and took your black purse with you.

You got people of all ages turning their heads as you walked through the lobby of your apartment towards the entrance where Happy already got the door opened for you.

“Ms. L/N,” Happy greeted you and assisted you in getting in the back of the car, “You look amazing.”

“Thank you, Happy, you look great yourself.” You smiled and returned the compliment.

Meanwhile over at Tony’s everyone of his guests have arrived, people were mingling in all areas of his home but he sat with Bruce, and Steven.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a lady-date tonight Tony,” Steven chuckled.

“Cap, do you have to say lady-date all the time? It’s just ‘date’— and for your information, I do have a date, she’ll be here.”

“Where did you pick her up this time?” Bruce asked.

“I’m afraid that’s confidential Dr. Banner,” Tony smiled teasingly, glancing towards Stephen who was just behind Banner by the bar interacting with another woman.

*London Bridge by Fergie begins to play as Y/N walks in*

“Oh here she comes,” Tony nods his head towards you, informing his friends who turned their heads in your direction.

♬Oh shit! Oh shit!♬

The elevators of Stark Tower open up revealing you in a well-fitted red dress, matched with spaghetti strapped heels, your wavy hair falling just above your shoulders, your red lipstick complimenting the tone of your skin so well. Everyone who was standing in your path moved out of the way.

You strolled with your head held high, your face alluring and enigmatic, and your hips swinging beautifully from side to side as you went. Tony couldn't help but crack a grin since he was pleased with how you developed over a short time and with how you approached your entrance tonight. Still, he wasn't the only one who seemed interested in you; Stephen seemed to be doing the same.

Tony swore he saw the wizard do a double take the moment you stepped in the room—looks like Stephen was the deer in headlights.

You are aware of Stephen, and while it seemed as if you were staring at him and heading towards him, in reality, you were gazing over Stephen's shoulder at Tony the whole time. It appeared as if Stephen was getting ready for you as you came closer, but then you walked right past him, softly brushing up against his shoulder as you went, and directly towards Tony, who without any hesitation welcomed you by planting a kiss on the back of your hand.

Stephen followed through as you walked past him, watching you flirt with Tony as he introduced you to the other avengers.

“Is he looking?” You discreetly asked Tony.

He leaned in close to your ear, “Fake a laugh while I whisper and yes he is looking—If looks could kill, I would be so dead right now.”

You followed as Tony instructed and laughed, which seemed to stir something inside Stephen, “Was that (Y/N)?” Wong approached Stephen whose jaw was clenching so hard.

“Mhm.” Stephen hummed, eyes still glued onto you.

“Wow, she’s like a different woman.” Wong glanced at Stephen, “You don’t look impressed.”

Stephen scoffed, “I don’t care—good for her—I can’t believe she’s that stupid to turn to a playboy.”

“Are you sure you don’t care?” Wong’s eyebrows creased after Stephen contradicted himself.

“Do I look like I care, Wong?” Stephen snapped, “We’re not together anymore, she can date whoever she wants for all I care—but why Stark and since when?”

“No need to get mad, Strange, I was just asking—Why don’t you drink on it hm?” Wong passed Stephen another drink and left him to be by himself. Stephen glanced at you again, catching your eye just a millisecond while you enjoy yourself in the company of Natasha and Wanda this time around. Is she really going to act as if I don’t exist? He thought to himself and turned around, tongue poking his inner cheek.

“One dry gin martini, please.” you ordered at least two seats away from Stephen. You could feel his burning gaze while you kept your head looking straight ahead.

“You’ve changed, I almost didn’t recognise you.” Stephen addressed you and you glanced at him with a soft chuckle.

“Well. . . people change and life goes on.” You smiled and shrugged, keeping your replies short and dry—it was taking everything in you to act like you don’t care.

“True, glad you’re doing well. . . but I’d be careful with Stark, he’s not the type to commit—”

You laugh and dismissively wave your hands, “Oh no—we’re not together.”

Somehow Stephen felt a surge of relief after hearing that, “You’re not?”

“No.”

“Listen. . . (Y/N)—”

“I don’t want to hear it Stephen, I’m sorry. I came here to have some fun because I haven’t had one for a while—if you want a bit of my time, you’re going to have to get in line.” You nonchalantly told him and grabbed your cocktail, “See you around.” With that you walked away from him to join the ladies group once more, leaving Stephen dumbfounded and unable to think properly after being rejected.

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