#not give me a very good tolerance for things that I feel like people could have figured out with a few minutes thinking about how people
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you belong with me l || joe burrow x reader
description: you and joe have been best friends ever since ohio state and you’ve been his biggest supporter for as long as you both could remember. it was always the same dynamic between you both, friends. very very very close friends. but what if you wanted to be more than just friends?
a/n: best friends to lovers HELLO? you are both so oblivious yet so aware of your feelings at the same time it is crazy. so many little moments that have you like “how the hell are you not aware you’re in love with each other?”.
you’re in denial for a lot of this fic, and Joe pretty much knows what he wants but is a little scared to actually do something about it
part 2 will be up later this week :)
warnings: language, mentions of sex (no actual smut)
word count: 13.3 k
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Thursday
You had just gotten home from running a few errands, absolutely exhausted from all the running around you had been doing from Christmas shopping and planning for your sister's wedding. You left all the bags in your entryway and collapsed on your couch.
“Ughh,” you groaned into the pillow. It had been a pretty chaotic week for you and you felt tired and burnt out, and were in desperate need of a night out.
You heard your phone buzz in your pocket so you moved to lay on your back and pulled your phone out to see who was calling. The name on your screen immediately made you smile and forget about your fatigue, so naturally, you answered it.
“Hey, Y/N,” Joe said over the phone as he sat down on his couch.
“Hi Joe,” you smiled as you started twirling your his sweatshirt string. Somehow you ended up with a few of Joe’s shirts or hoodies in your closet from when you’d be over at his place or him at yours. Currently, you have one of his old LSU hoodies which was a little big on you, but that made it even more comfier. “How was practice?”.
“Good,” He breathed out, sounding a little weary.
“Is something wrong? You sound extra tired,” you ask your best friend.
“Nah, Just the usual tiredness from practice but I’m fine,” he lied.
You could tell when Joe would lie to you, the tone of his voice would usually give it away. And right now, he was lying to you. “I know you too well Joe, what's up?”.
He let out a sigh and said, “The Bengals Christmas Party is tomorrow night and I’m dreading it,”.
“Ahhh, I see. Mr. Hermit Crab has to go to a partyyyy,” you tease.
“Really funny,” He says, rolling his eyes which you could feel through the screen.
“I know you don’t partially enjoy parties but it’s Christmas, lighten up,” you tell him. “There will be lots of people there to keep you company,”.
“And that’s just the problem. Everyone there is just gonna wanna talk about football and I need one night to just relax,” he says.
You felt bad for Joe since you knew how all of this would get draining for him. It was already stressful enough that the playoffs were slowly creeping up and the background noise was only getting louder by the day, and then he had 50 other things on top of that to do. He didn’t get any break time once December rolled around. That’s also why it was hard for him to enjoy his birthday, which happened to be next Sunday.
“I know, I’m sorry. I wish I could do something to stop you from going but you are the face of the team and not going would look bad,”.
As he listens to you, an idea pops into his head. He sits up and says, “You know, it would be a lot more tolerable if you came with me?”.
Your eyes light up at his offer. Joe always ended up bringing you with him to events like this. Ever since he got drafted by the Bengals, you’d be right by his side at any team activities that needed a plus 1. At first, you weren’t really sure why he’d bring you along with him, and quite honestly you still aren’t really sure since he could just go alone or bring anyone else, but it always seemed to make him more comfortable when you were there and you’d be happy to keep him company at any given time.
“That’s if you're free?” He adds.
“Oh trust me, I am. I’m in desperate need of a night out so this might be the thing I need,” you say as you hop off the couch and walk into your bedroom to figure out an outfit for tomorrow.
“Everything alright?” He asks as he gets up to figure out his own outfit for tomorrow now that he actually has a reason to go.
“Yeah, just a triple homicide. Work, Christmas, and my Sister's wedding planning,” you say as you pull out a few Christmasy dresses, none really catching your eye.
“Damn, December really isn’t our month,” he laughs. “You need a night out,”.
“You got that right,” you smile. You're just about to ask him what he was thinking of wearing to the party but your sister calls you, interrupting you and Joe’s call.
“Shit, my Sister’s calling me. Probably more wedding stuff,” you sigh.
“That’s okay,” he laughs. “I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow,” he adds.
“Sounds perfect. See you tomorrow,” you smile.
“Bye, Y/N,” he replies before hanging up. You then call your sister back, placing the phone on speaker and throwing it onto the bed.
“Hey Kaylee,” you say as you go back to outfit hunting for tomorrow.
“Hey, you busy?” She asks.
“A little. I’m trying to find an outfit for tomorrow,” you say as you pull out a cropped red sweater.
“What’s tomorrow?” She asks.
“Joe asked me to go with him to the team Christmas party,” you said as you dug through your closet for a black mini skirt and sheer tights to go with the sweater.
“Aw that’s nice,” she says. “You know, with the number of things Joe brings you to or does with you, you’d think that you both would be a couple by now. You are practically his girlfriend,” she jokes, only partly though.
You immediately stop looking through your closet and turn back to face your phone. “What?” you say as you feel yourself turning red at the mention of being his girlfriend, a thought you buried all those years ago because you thought it was silly.
“I’m just joking, Y/N, kind of. But I mean, you are doing what girlfriends typically do. I know you’re really close friends and you have been for years, but he brings you to like everything and you’re always doing something together. People think you’re his secret girlfriend for a reason,” she says.
You find yourself staring off into space as she’s talking. Deep down, you knew she was right but you just didn’t want to look at it that way. You were doing girlfriend duties for him and it became clearer as time passed by. At first, it didn’t bother you much, it was just two best friends doing best friend things right? It was completely normal for you to go to every single one of his games, go to these team events with him, and spend so much time together, right? But as time went on, you started to realize that maybe people’s comments weren’t totally out of left field. It did look like you were his girlfriend, especially since he didn’t have any other girl with him most of the time.
You had feelings for Joe back when you first met at Ohio State, but you never did anything about them because you thought he didn’t feel the same. You spent weeks spiraling over your feelings towards him, but you eventually gave up because you didn’t want to lose him as a friend in case he felt differently about you, so you buried the feelings and moved on. Or so you thought you buried them. Clearly, that wasn’t the case since you were spiraling, again, at the thought of being his girlfriend and being told that you were acting like it too.
You never pushed Joe about his dating life because you thought that was boundary stomping. Yes, you two were very close, but you didn’t really want to know the details about his love life for many reasons. You just watched that part of his life from a distance. He had a few girlfriends over the years, none of which stuck around or fizzled out over time. The only consistent girl in his life was you. And that’s why everyone thought you were his girlfriend when he first got drafted.
They were convinced you both were either dating or hooking up, neither of which was true. It was a little awkward when that gained traction, but it slowly faded out over time but still lingered to this day. You both tried to not let it affect your friendship and for the most part, it worked. You ignored and continued to support him in every way possible, but those thoughts of you being a couple were buried deep inside your mind and sometimes peeked through, just like how they were right now.
“I haven’t really looked at it that way,” you lied.
“Of course you haven’t. Why would you? Joe is such a great guy and has been a great friend to you for years. Why would you ever think that way,” she laughs.
Being best friends with one of the best quarterbacks in the league had its perks. But you weren’t one to take advantage of that often. You were just there to support your best friend and enjoy the ride. To everyone else, he was Joe Burrow. But to you, he was just Joe. And you loved that you got to see the real him and the guy you met in college was still there regardless of everything that’s changed since then.
“Rightttt,” you say as you sit down on your bed.
“Well anyways, I’ll leave you to it. I was just calling about what the menu should look like for the pre-wedding brunch but we can talk about that later,” she says.
“You sure?” You ask.
“Positive. Have fun at the party and tell Joe I said hi,”.
“Thanks, Kaylee and I will. I’ll call you soon,” you say as you hang up. You toss your phone to the side and fall back onto your bed. The thought of you and Joe being a couple was stupid, right? You both had been friends for years and never once did he show any other feelings other than friendship towards you, so why was this even a thought? Were you not seeing something that everyone else was? Did Joe ever have the same thoughts as you?
He was the perfect guy. He was kind, selfless, funny, attractive, smart, and charming. Any girl would be so lucky to have him as her boyfriend. Wouldn’t it be nice if he was your boyfriend? He matches your vibe completely and you both have so much in common, plus you already know so much about each other. You would be the perfect couple and people wouldn’t even be surprised if you got together.
“Nah, this is stupid,” you shook your head as you broke out of whatever fantasy you were dreaming about.
But was it a fantasy, or was it something that you both wished was reality deep down?
Friday Night
The next day flew by pretty quickly and you found yourself sitting at your vanity, applying the last bit of makeup before Joe picked you up. You opted for a cropped red sweater, a black mini skirt with sheer tights, and black knee-high boots. Jewelry-wise, you didn’t go all out. Just your usual earrings and necklaces, but you made sure to wear the diamond tennis bracelet Joe got you after he signed his rookie contract. You didn’t wear it often since it was so expensive, but whenever you did, Joe would notice and a huge smile would appear on his face.
Flashback to 2020
You sat down on Joe’s couch as he brought over two glasses of red wine. He had called you over for dinner tonight at his new place that he bought once his contract money came through.
“I loveee your house. It’s very homey,” you chirp as you pull a plush blanket over your legs.
“Thank you,” he smiles as he sits down, handing you your wine glass. “If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be upgrading in a few years,”.
“Oh trust me, it’ll go just as planned,” you say, taking a sip of the blood red wine. “You’re about to set the league on fire,”.
“I appreciate the confidence,” Joe laughs as he sips his wine.
“I’m so glad you got drafted to Cincy. It was already tough enough that you were down in Baton Rouge for 2 years, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you got drafted anywhere else,” you sigh.
“Sounds like somebody missed me,” he said as he threw his head back into the couch pillow.
“No shit, goofball. I missed my best friend,” you laughed as you playfully shoved his shoulder.
“Well, take this as an apology,” he says, putting his glass to the side and reaching down to grab something from the side of the couch. He pulls up a small lilac gift bag and places it in your lap.
“What’s this?” you question as butterflies fill your stomach. You place your glass on the side table and examine the little bag.
“An apology for being away for 2 years,” he says, raising his eyebrows and motioning you to open the bag.
“It’s not like I didn’t see you at all. I went to a few games and you still came back here during your breaks,” you said as you patted his thigh.
“Still, I wasn’t at your fingertips like I usually am,” he laughs, causing a blush to creep up your face. “Just open it,”.
You nod and open the bag and are met with a beige box. You open the box and your jaw drops at the sight of a shiny, very real-looking, diamond tennis bracelet sitting inside.
“Joe, what the fuck,” you whispered as you ran your fingers across the big diamonds. “You didn’t have to- This must’ve been so expensive,”.
“Don’t worry about all that. It’s a gift from me to my best friend and saying no would be rude,” he says, grabbing the bracelet and helping you put it on. “In case you forgot, I am a millionaire now, and you never wanna upset a millionaire,” he jokes.
“Don’t send your minions on me now,” you joke as he clasps the bracelet onto your wrist. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do this,”.
He tilts his head, giving you a look that you never were one to argue with. “Fine, Fine. Thank you sooo much. I love it,” you say as you launch yourself onto him, pulling him in for a warm hug.
He wraps his arms around you tightly and laughs into your shoulder. His hand runs up and down your back as you run your fingers through his soft hair. You weren’t sure how long you both were hugging; you were waiting for him to pull away, but he was waiting for you to pull away. But at the same time, neither of you really wanted to pull away.
You appreciated the glamorous gift from him, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel butterflies in your belly when you opened the box. Little did you know this bracelet was his first official purchase from his contract money. He knew that once the money hit his account, he wanted to buy you something to show how much he cared for you, the only girl that has been by his side through thick and thin.
End of flashback
Last night’s thoughts were no longer in your head as you reminded yourself that Joe was just your best friend. Nothing more, and nothing less. There was no reason to ruin your bond with a silly little pipe dream.
You heard your phone buzz from what was probably a text from Joe. You opened the text, laughing at the text, which was a little inside joke you two had made over the years.
Joe: getaway car
“Getaway Car” was a term you both would use whenever you needed to escape something. Whether it was wanting to leave a college party because you were feeling uncomfortable, wanting to leave an awkward situation, or like right now, when either of you needed a break from life and needed to do something fun. All you would say to each other was “getaway car” and you’d know what was up.
You smiled at the text, grabbed your purse, and made your way out the door and down to his car.
Meanwhile, Joe was humming along to the song playing on his aux, ‘Lovers Rock’ by TV Girl. You both had made a shared Spotify playlist years ago back at OSU and would often listen to the playlist whenever you were together, so naturally he had to play it on the way to the party. This song was clearly your addition as Joe’s music taste was a little different, but he’d learn to enjoy songs like this because of you.
You also used to listen to this playlist during the time Joe was away at LSU and you would miss talking to him since he was extremely busy. He would do the same on those nights when he was alone and couldn’t sleep because he would be missing your silly little movie nights, thinking about if you were having these movie nights with anyone else while he was away.
You made your way out of your apartment building, spotted Joe’s car, and walked over to it. You knocked on the window since he was too busy staring off into space to notice you walk over. He jumped slightly at the sudden noise but then relaxed as he realized it was just you. He unlocks the door which you swing open, hopping inside and letting out a deep breath.
“Woo, it’s freezing out there,” you say as you rub your hands together for some warmth.
He stares at you up and down, taking in your outfit which you looked stunning in, his eyes stopping at your wrist which was decked with the diamond bracelet he got you. A smile creeps on his face, which you notice.
“You look really beautiful,” He smiles as he puts the car into drive and exits the parking lot.
You blushed at his compliment as you also took in what he was wearing. Black jeans and a dark green sweater along with one of his many diamond chains. He looked so good right now. The way his hair naturally fell into place, the way his mouth was curled up into a smile, and the way his sweater fit perfectly around his muscular arms. He just looked so good.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Burrow,” you tease.
“Thanks for coming with me by the way,” he smiles over at you.
“Anytime,” you smile back. “Remember, just say ‘getaway car’ if you wanna leave if you get overwhelmed or something,”.
“Aye-Aye, Captain,” he salutes.
You take note of the song playing in the car and you blush again, and then hear Joe singing a bit of the song under his breath.
"While the others talk, We were listening to lovers rock, In her bedroom," he mumbles.
“Lovers Rock?” You question. “Damn, someone’s music taste def rubbed off on you,”.
“Actually, it’s our playlist that’s on right now. But yeah, I’ve learned to enjoy this kinda music. Might be because of a certain someone,” he shrugs.
“Hmm, whoever she is must have excellent taste,” you say as you turn up the volume.
“Oh trust me,” he says looking over at you, the look on his face sending shivers down your spine. “She definitely does,”.
A short drive later, you both arrive at the party. Joe turns the car off, hops out, and jogs over to your side, helping you out of the car before you can even open the door.
“Such a gentleman,” you tease as you reach to close the car door, but he beats you to it.
“For you? Always,” he winks as he closes your door and loops your arm around his, leading you into the party. You blush at the contact, but why were you blushing? He’s just being friendly, right?
Before you can dive deeper into those thoughts again, you find yourself already inside the party. soft Christmas music was playing over the speakers as the room was filled with people. You could see why he didn’t want to go now, especially alone. There were a bunch of food stations around the room, holiday photo ops, Christmas games, and the whole 9 yards. It was all a little overwhelming and it looked like Christmas threw up all over the party venue.
“Merry Christmas,” you whisper.
“See why I didn’t wanna come here alone?” he laughs.
“Ohh yeah,” you nod as he leads you over to your friends.
“Joe! Y/N!,” Jess says as she gets up from the table, a huge grin on her face.
“Hey Jess,” you chirp as you pull away from Joe’s arm to hug your friend.
“Hi Jess,” Joe smiles. “Where’s Sam?”.
“Oh, I think he’s over by the drinks with Ja’Marr and Ted,” she says as she pulls away from the hug.
Joe looks over at you and you already know what he is going to ask, “Go,” you laugh. “I’ll be here with Jess. Yell if you need me?”.
“You got it,” he smiles as he walks over to the guys.
“I guess Joe strung you along with him tonight?” Jess asks as she sits back down, pulling out the chair next to her for you.
“Yeah,” you laugh as you sit down. “He didn’t wanna go and asked if I could go with him to make it more tolerable,”.
“Sounds like Joe,” she laughs. “He really hasn’t changed since college has he? He always used to drag you along to all the parties,”.
“Not at all,” you smile as you see him laughing with the guys.
“So, first thoughts about the party? Since it’s your first time here,” she asks as she takes a sip of her drink.
“Verrry Christmasy and grand. Maybe a little Overwhelming?” you sigh.
“That sounds about right,” she laughs, looking up and smiling, prompting you to turn your head.
Joe was walking over, a grin on his face and a drink in his hand. “I got you your favorite,” he says, placing the Peach Mojito down in front of you.
“Thank You,” you smile up at him, squeezing his hand for a second.
“I’m not drinking tonight so make sure you drink for me too,” he says.
“Say less,” you say while you pick up your delicious drink.
“You good though?” He asks.
“I’m great, go with the guys,” you say, flashing him a reassuring smile.
“Okay. But if you need anything, just come over,” he says.
“Same goes for you,” you say as he gives you two thumbs up before walking away.
“Always making sure you’re good before he does anything else. Classic Joe,” Jess smiles, causing you to freeze for a second. He always did that though, right? That’s just what he does with all his friends, not just you.
“No big deal,” you whisper to yourself.
“Hm?” Jess asks.
“Oh nothing, just talking to myself,” you brush off. “So wait. Did Joe go to the party last year?” you ask, changing the subject as you take a sip of your drink. That question was floating through your mind all day, and you needed to know the answer. He didn’t take you last year but he definitely went, but with who?
“Mhm,” she nods. “He went with Stella,”.
Your heart drops when she says that name. “Ohh right, his ex,” you sigh.
“Yup,” she nods.
His ex-girlfriend Stella. You didn’t really know much about her since you only talked to her a couple of times. One day she was in the suite, then suddenly she wasn’t. You didn’t push Joe to tell you what happened, especially since he didn’t seem too upset about it. All he told you was that they both just didn’t work.
“What happened between them? You know I usually don’t push him about his love life,”.
“Oh I know,” she laughs. “I don’t really know the full story myself. All Sam told me was that Joe felt like it didn’t fit. Like it wasn’t really what he was looking for relationship-wise or person-wise,”.
“Interesting,” you say as you sip your drink. You rarely interacted with his girlfriends. Not just because they wouldn’t stick around so why bother, but also because you felt like they didn’t really like your vibe for some reason. Maybe it was because he would always talk about you and spend time with you, but did they care that much? You were just friends anyway and you thought that was obvious.
Joe’s POV
“Sooo, you brought Y/N?” Ja’Marr teases.
“Yes… I did,” you say, taking a sip of your water.
“Anything going on over there,” Sam teases as he pats your shoulder.
“What? With me and Y/N?” You scoff. “Please, we would never-”.
“Now don’t lie to me Burrow,” Ja’Marr says. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t go running to her if she looked at you that way,”.
“Ja’Marr is right,” Ted adds. “It’s kinda obvious you have a thing for her,”.
“Are you guys drunk?” You scoff. “What’s with the sudden attack?”.
“Nah, but you might be,” Ja’Marr says. “Wake up Man. You clearly like her. You’re always talking about her, you’re always with her and don’t forget all those times at LSU when you’d be going on about how you wished she was with you right now. Those feelings ain’t die that easily,”.
“There’s a reason that everyone thought and still thinks that she’s your girlfriend,” Sam says.
“That’s just overly invasive fans and their stupid speculation,” you deflect.
“Mmm, not to mention, have there been any ladies on your radar since Stella? You both broke up in January which was 11 months ago. And the reason was that you didn’t think she was the right person for you,” Ted says.
“Mhm, and does the right person that you’re looking for happen to be sitting there next to my girlfriend?” Sam adds as points over at you.
You look over at her, smiling as you see her laughing like a hyena at something Jess said. She looked angelic as the soft glow of the lights reflected off her beautiful face; her cute laugh caught your attention even though you were so far away from each other in the crowded room.
Deep down, you knew they were right. You didn’t want to admit it, but you did have a thing for her and have had a thing for her since OSU. You never brought up those feelings to anyone, not even Y/N. You didn’t know if she felt the same way about you and you were too scared that you’d ruin your friendship if she didn’t feel the same way.
Those feelings even stuck around at LSU. They actually got stronger since you were away from her for so long. But you once again didn’t want to screw up your bond, so you repressed those feelings as much as you could and tried to distract yourself, but distractions were only temporary. That’s also why none of your girlfriends suck around. They weren’t what you were looking for and you weren’t invested. What you were looking for had always been by your side since Day 1, but you just didn’t know what to do about it without risking your friendship. You knew you loved her, and she knew that you loved her as a friend. But she didn’t know that you loved her a lot more than how just friends loved each other.
She was the perfect girl. Any man would be lucky to have her as his girlfriend. She was stunning, genuine, funny, fearless, the epitome of a dream girl. Her being your girlfriend was a dream, but it probably would never happen. It never happened all these years you had known each other, so why now?
But what if she liked you back? You wouldn’t know because you never tried that door, even though you had the key in your pocket all along.
End of Joe’s POV
The party flew by quickly as you talked with the WAGs for a little, ate some yummy food, and Joe made his rounds as QB1 talking to as many people as he could before his social battery ran out. Occasionally, he’d look over at you if he got a little nervous or overwhelmed. The mere sight of you always calmed him down. And once his battery died, he found himself sitting next to you, as usual.
Joe’s conversation with the guys still lingered in his mind as he watched you chat and drink with your friends. He didn’t know what to do about the feelings he was feeling towards you and how to handle them, so he decided to let it be and just let things flow the way they were. If something was going to happen, it would. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t. Forcing something would be the last thing he’d ever do with you.
You were extra giggly for the past hour, definitely drunk since you were on your 4th, maybe 5th drink of the night. You weren’t really sure anymore since you and the other girls did shots at the bar earlier, so it was definitely more than 5.
“Y/N, how many drinks have you had,” Joe asks as he looks over at you.
“Hmmm, I don’t know. Numbers are funny,” you giggle as you grab his arms. “You look really pretty tonight, Joey,” you giggle as you grab another drink. “Have you thought about being a male model? I heard Calvin Klein does some pretty fun shots. The girlies would lose it. I know I would,” you giggle.
Joe’s eyes widened as he blushed a little. You were clearly out of your mind drunk and he knew exactly what would happen when you got this wasted. You’d be all giggly, then you’d have the zoomies, and then you’d crash, hard. He couldn’t have this happen at the party in front of everyone and he knew you’d kick his ass if he let you act like this in front of them.
“Okayyy, I think that’s enough drinks for tonight,” he says, taking your drink out of your hand.
“Noooo,” you whine as you reach for the drink. “It’s so good though,”.
“And so is weed but you don’t see me being high all the time,” he jokes as he pushes the drink further away from you.
You raise your eyebrow at him and say, “That’s funnyyyy. Those shades are glued to your face for a reason,”.
He stares at you for a few seconds, taking in every detail of your face. How your glossy lips were curled up into a smile, how little strands of your hair were falling onto your face, and how you were practically glowing in the soft light of the room.
“I don’t think you’d particularly enjoy being crossfaded,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Do you have some right now? Let’s test it out,” You say as your eyes light up.
Oh hell no. How drunk were you? Joe thought to himself. “Y/N,” he says, staring deeply into your eyes, grabbing both your hands.
“What?” You giggle softly as you play with the wristbands on his wrist.
“Getaway Car,” he says.
You immediately sit up in your chair and turn serious at the words that left his mouth, reminding you what those words meant and what they were used for. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”.
“I’m fine,” he laughs as he grabs your hand that was playing with his wristbands. “But you’re not. You’re 2 seconds away from falling over,”.
“What do you mean? I’m amazingggg,” you laugh as you stand up to prove your point, almost falling over but Joe places his hands on your hips, catching you before you can. His big warm hands were firmly holding you in place as heat climbed up your body at his electric touch.
“Yeaah, we’re going home now,” he says as he gets up from his chair, not giving you a second to protest. He grabbed your waist with one hand to make sure you didn’t fall over as you said your goodbyes and made your final lap around the room. The hand that was wrapped around your waist caused butterflies to fill your belly. His touch was so gentle and fulfilling, yet had you craving more.
He led you out to the car, his hand still gripping your waist, as you were going on about how much you loved Christmas.
“I just love giving gifts,” you giggle as you lean your head on his shoulder. “It’s sooo fun getting to see everyone’s reactions when they open the gifts I give them. Speaking of, what do you want for Christmas Joey?”.
“Nothing,” Joe smiles. “I already have everything I want,” he says, looking down at you.
You pause for a few seconds as your drunken mind tries to process what he said. You didn’t see him look down at you, but you could feel his gaze on you. He wasn’t talking about you, was he? He was definitely just talking about his life and career.
“That’s funny. I already got your birthday gift down for next Sunday, but you gotta meet me halfway for Christmas,” you say, quickly dodging those thoughts again.
“Mmm, still don’t want anything. For either occasion in fact,” he says as you reach the car. He removes his hand from your waist to open your door and then helps you sit inside.
“Well too bad,” you smile as he sits in the driver’s seat. “I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself,”.
“Have fun,” he says as he connects his phone to the Bluetooth; your playlist once again playing on the speakers.
You fall back into your seat and bob your head along to the music as Joe pulls the car out of the parking spot, and leaves the party venue. A few minutes later, you’ve made it onto the highway. Your head is leaning against the comfy headrest as you look over at Joe. His tan skin was shining in the moonlight and his pink lips were curled up into a smile. You move your head to look out the window, taking in the gorgeous view of the Cinncinati Skyline, and then notice that Joe drove past the exit that you would take to get downtown to your apartment.
“Joe, you missed the exit,” you say as you flip your head back over to him.
“I know,” he laughs.
“Uhhh, well are you gonna go a different way or?” you mumble.
“Nah, you’re way too drunk to be left alone tonight. We’re going back to my place,” he says.
“Joe, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine on my own and I don’t wanna intrude,” you say, sitting up in your seat.
“Intrude on what? It’s just me in that big-ass house,” he laughs. “Having some company won’t hurt,”.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“Positive. I know how you get when you’re this drunk and I would be a terrible friend to make you deal with that alone,” he laughs.
“Yeahh,” you trail off. “You’re such a great..friend,”. It pained you a little to say “friend” and you weren’t entirely sure why. It also pained Joe a little to hear you say “friend”. If only you would put “boy” in front of it, he thought to himself.
“So it’s settled then. You’re getting the Burrow treatment tonight,” he winks, looking over at you, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
“Uhhh, are we still talking about hangover care or?” you joke, breaking out into a fit of laughter.
“Dirty, Dirty Mind,” he chuckles as he shakes his head.
You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window again, watching the cars pass by one by one you let out a content sigh and got comfy in the car seat again. But then, the song on the aux changed, immediately catching your attention and causing you to flip your head back to him.
Joe’s eyes light up as he hears the soft music playing in the background, recognizing the song instantly and raising the volume.
“Ohh yeah,” you say, moving up in your seat and swaying your shoulders as you recite the song lyrics.
“Because I'm eighteen, And I still live with my parents. Yeah, they're not like yours,” you belt out as you close your eyes and dance in your seat.
“Well, yours are more understanding. I've never fell in love, I've saved those feelings for you,” Joe sings, looking right over at you as he sings that last bit. He watches you cutely dance around in your seat, his heart softening as he takes in the moment. Something about you sitting in his car seat, after a late night, on the way back to his house, made him feel all giddy inside.
“So let's do all the stupid shit that young kids do. It's me and you, youuu,” you sing as you open your eyes and point at Joe, who looks a little..lovestruck?
Lovestruck? Please, as if he would ever feel that about you out of all people, you thought to yourself. The alcohol in your system was really messing with your mind right now.
About 20 minutes later, Joe pulled into the driveway of his house, which was massive. He definitely had upgraded from his last house, just as he had hoped to and just as you said he would do. It was just him in this big house, all alone. He would often get bored since he didn’t have anyone around to keep him company, so he was more than ecstatic to have you over for the night.
After parking in the garage, he helps you inside the house. He walks you over to the kitchen island, pulling out a barstool with his leg, and motioning for you to sit down.
“First order of business, Water and Advil,” he says as he grabs a water bottle from the fridge, then moves to open the drawer to grab the bottle of Advil. He pulls out two tablets and hands them to you along with the water.
“Thank you,” you say after you wash down the medicine with the water.
“Second order of business, getting you something comfy to wear,” he says, grabbing your hand and yanking you off the stool. His warm hand molded perfectly against yours as he led you up the stairs to his bedroom.
“But I don’t have any clothes here,” you mumbled as he pulled you into his room, still holding your hand.
“That’s okay, you can just wear one of my big shirts,” he says as drops your hand and walks into his closet, returning to the room after a few moments with a purple LSU shirt in hand. “Is this good?” he asks.
“Perfect,” you whisper as you take the shirt from his hand. “Be right back,” you smile as you walk into his bathroom.
You peel off your clothes from tonight, placing them into a neat pile on the vanity as you slip on his shirt. It was massive on you, no surprise there though. You smiled as you read the text on the shirt; it was his championship t-shirt from when he won the Natty. You scrunched up the fabric, bringing it to your nose, taking a deep breath, and remembering that amazing night.
Flashback to 2020 – New Orleans, Louisiana
You looked over at the scoreboard, the score reading 42-25 just as the clock was winding down with only a few minutes left in the 4th quarter.
“He did it, he really fucking did it,” you whispered as tears started to fall from your eyes, your friends all jumping up and down around you and screaming at the top of their lungs.
“3..2..1,” Lydia screamed as purple and yellow confetti filled the stadium. The LSU tigers had just won the national championship, Joe had just won the national championship. After years of hard work and dedication, never backing down from a challenge, his dreams had finally come true, and you got to be apart of it and witness it.
After watching the trophy presentation and the celebrations on the field from the stands, you made your way down to the field, hoping to get a moment with Joe before he was pulled in for media.
You made your way through the crowds of reporters, players, and families in search of him, but you literally could not figure out where he was.
“Did he already get pulled in for media?” you asked yourself as you looked around the field, your smile dropping.
Suddenly, you felt two arms snake around your waist and pull you back into a warm embrace. “What the F-”.
“Calm down, Y/N, it’s just me,” he says, swaying you back and forth. You could recognize that voice anywhere, even in the loudest settings. You place your hands on his and turn your head up, meeting his baby-blue eyes.
“Joe,” you whisper, feeling tears fill your eyes again.
“Hi,” he mumbled before you flipped around in his arms and looped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug.
“You did it,” you said, crying into his shoulder. “I’m s- so proud of you,”.
“Hey, Hey, why are you crying?” he asked, rubbing circles on your back for comfort.
You pulled your face out from his shoulder and said, “Because, you’re a national champion now, Silly. This is what you’ve been working for and it finally happened. I’ve been fortunate enough to be by your side through the whole thing and can’t help but get emotional when my best friend just had his dream come true,”.
He stays silent for a few moments before he pushes your head back into his chest. “Thank you. For everything,” he says, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He remembered how you had been nothing but supportive of his dreams since you met. There were days back at OSU when he would come back to his dorm after practice, feeling shitty and lost since nothing felt like it was going his way, and you would drop whatever you were doing at the moment to go and comfort him since he didn’t want to be alone. Those many late nights you spent trying to help him study and catch up on his work so that he could focus on football during the day. And nothing would ever come close to how you refused to miss a single one of his games, even if you were watching back in Ohio. He remembers you telling him that at your friend's bachelorette party, you had the game pulled up on your phone and sat at the bar the entire night watching instead of doing shots and dancing with your friends.
The day he decided that he was going to LSU was hard for both of you. He could tell how you were holding back from telling him how you really felt, which was incredibly sad and upset, but you knew he had to do this for himself, and he watched as you plastered a smile on your face and cheered him on, even if it broke your heart.
“You are the most strongest, dedicated, and talented person I know. I am so proud of youuu,” you squeal into his chest.
Joe felt fireworks in his heart as he listened to you go on and on about how well he did in the game. Those feelings he had for you were so hard to avoid, and right now he felt like ripping the bandaid off and telling you how he felt straight up. But he couldn’t. He wanted nothing more than to kiss your soft lips right now and tell you that he loved you more than anything in the world, but he just couldn’t. Instead, he just enjoyed the feeling of you with him right now during one of the happiest moments in his life. There was no need to ruin it with his pipe dream.
End of flashback
You spent a few moments fixing your hair and washing your makeup off before turning off the lights and joining him back outside, but you stopped as you realized something.
“Fuck, I don’t have shorts on,” you realize. You were just in his shirt, your white lace panties, and your socks, and didn’t know what to do. The shirt was big enough to cover your upper thighs and if you avoided any movement that caused the shirt to ride up, you would be fine.
“He won’t care regardless,” you whisper as you shake your head and leave the bathroom.
While you were changing, Joe had changed into a pair of sweat shorts and a short-sleeved tee and was sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
“Aren’t you cold? It’s December,” you giggle as you join him in the room again.
He looks up from his phone, heat rising up his cheeks as he takes in the sight of your bare legs and your body which was clothed by one of his shirts. Your cheeks were a little rosy, definitely an effect of all the alcohol you consumed. A feeling of nervousness now filled his body as he watched you put your stuff down on his table, the way your hips swayed from side to side, and how your hair bounced with each step. He realized that he hadn’t given you any shorts or boxers, so you were definitely just in your underwear right now, and that made him want to pass out. Why did he feel like a teenage boy all of a sudden? He had seen you in pajamas many times so why was he feeling like this? Whatever it was, it definitely was not helping the thoughts he had about your relationship earlier in the night because here you were, standing in his room, looking absolutely incredible.
“You tell me,” he says as he raises his eyebrows.
“Fair point,” you laugh as you walk over to his bookshelf, a photo frame catching your eye. He carefully watches you as you walk over to the picture, his heart feeling like it is about to beat out of his chest as he realizes what you are looking at.
It was a photo of the two of you from one of his games at LSU. He was looking down at you, a huge grin on his face as if he was laughing at something you said. You were looking back up at him, smiling at his expression. You both were almost lost in each other’s eyes in this photo, something you hadn’t noticed before. This was Joe’s favorite photo of the two of you and he had managed to keep it to himself, up until now.
Flashback to 2019 - LSU
You had flown into Baton Rouge early this morning and were going to surprise Joe at his game tonight since he had no idea you were coming. He had been begging you for weeks to come down for a weekend to see him because he missed you, but you kept pushing it off with lazy excuses so you could pull one on him. But little did he know, you had been planning a trip to see him for the past month.
He caught a glimpse of you in the stands earlier, his entire face lighting up and his heart soaring. He thought he was dreaming for a second as he saw you sitting with his mom, wearing his number, and screaming his name, You waved over at him before the game started, but didn’t get a chance to talk to him as he was pulled into pregame warmups. Now, you were waiting in the tunnel as the game finished, eagerly waiting to see your best friend.
You were chatting with Joe’s Mom as you waited for him to come out from the locker room. A few minutes later, you heard an all too familiar voice behind you.
“You fucking liar,” he laughs.
You spin around, your heart skipping a beat as you see Joe standing in front of you.
You walk over to him, launching yourself into his open arms and letting out a squeal as he tightly wraps them around your waist, slightly lifting you off the ground and swaying you from side to side. “I mm- missed you,” you sputtered, trying to hold back your emotions.
“And you said you were too busy with Jake’s cousin's wedding this weekend,” he says, his hand rubbing your lower back.
“Please, as if I would go to the wedding of my ex’s cousin rather than flying down to see my best friend who I haven’t seen in 5 months,” you say as he lets go of you, slowly sliding you back down to the floor.
“Ex?” He asked.
“Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you over the phone. We broke up,” you say as you meet his eyes.
“Really?” He asks, trying hard not to smile. He felt bad that you and Jake broke up, but part of him felt a little happy that there wasn’t any other guy in your life taking his space at the moment. Jake got to do everything Joe would do with you but couldn’t because he was away. The movie marathons, game nights, trying new restaurants, arcade runs, shopping, building legos, literally everything, he got to do, and it made Joe a little jealous.
He never really got too involved in your dating life. He felt like it was uncharted territory since he was your best friend and a guy. It would be a little weird if he was getting involved. He also didn’t want to give the guys the wrong idea about your friendship. Although, he did have moments where he wished that it was a little more than just a friendship.
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Just didn’t feel right. He didn’t seem invested in the relationship lately anyway,”.
“Mr. Lovebombing not being invested? Shocker,” he teases. You felt your smile drop a little bit at his teasing. Yes, you were over him, but it still stung a little bit since you were pretty unlucky in the boyfriend department and this was just another addition.
He immediately felt bad for saying that, knowing how you felt about relationships, so he pulled you into a side hug. “Sorry, that was jerky,” he mumbles.
“It’s okay,” you say as you pat his chest. “I should’ve seen it coming,”.
“Well if it makes you feel better, I never liked him anyway, he laughs.
“Joe,” you say as you playfully swat his arm while pulling away from the hug.
“Hey, can you blame me? He doesn’t like ‘The Office’. That’s a crime,” he deadpans.
“I missed you so much,” you laughed, staring deeply into his eyes. God you missed him. You missed his cheery attitude, his million-dollar smile, and the comfort you’d feel when you were with him. Joe could turn your mood around in an instant and make you forget about everything bad in your life. No other guy could ever make you feel the way he did, it was an irreplicable feeling.
“Me too,” he sighed. “5 months is way too long and you’re so far away,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet.
“I know but hey, I’m here now. And even if it’s for a few days, I’m here,” you say, gently rubbing his bicep.
He looks back up at you with a smile, “Yeah, you are,”. He looked into your chocolaty eyes, searching them for a few moments, hoping to find something in them that he’d been waiting for, but he was interrupted by your laughter.
“They might have to force me onto the plane back to Ohio. I’ve been here for a day and I don’t want to go back,” you giggle.
“I can sneak you into my apartment,” he shrugs. “Just act like you’re on the football team and you’re golden,” he jokes.
While you two were talking, Joe’s mom snapped a few photos of your reunion, neither of you noticing the camera snaps.
“Oh yeahh. I’ll totally fit right in,” you say, shaking your head. “I can be your new star Wide Receiver,”.
“Ja’Marr and Justin might have a problem with that,” he shrugged.
“They won’t when they see how great of a duo we make, on the field and off,” you wink.
End of flashback
“I haven’t seen this one,” you smile as you look back at him. “Gatekeeping, Burrow?”.
“It’s one of my faves so yes, yes I am gatekeeping,” he shrugs.
“Well, I’m stealing it,” you say, picking up the frame.
“Uhh, no you’re not,” he says, slowly standing up from the bed.
“Ohh yes, I am,” you tease as you turn around to meet his eyes. He walks over to you as you slowly walk backward, moving away from him.
“Okayyy, I think it’s time for bed,” he says as he reaches out to grab you, but you take another leap back towards the door.
“Nopeee,” you smirk. “Catch me if you can,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him before running out the door.
“We are not about to do this,” Joe mumbles as he runs out the door, following you as you run through the halls of his house. Giggles and Laughter echo throughout the house as you run down the stairs, looking back a couple of times to see if he is still there, and he is. Even though he was exhausted, he was enjoying chasing you throughout the halls of his house. The usually quiet halls were now filled with your shrieks and giggles, a sound that he loved to hear. You run over to the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as Joe runs to the couch to grab a pillow.
“Joe!” you scream as he grabs a couch pillow, launching it straight at your head but you quickly duck.
“You asked for it,” he laughed.
“Oh, it’s on,” you grin as you place the photo on the island, making sure it didn’t get caught in the battle.
“Whatcha gonna do?” he smirks as he places his hands on his hips, bouncing from side to side.
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say as you slowly walk over to the comfy chair next to the dining table, grabbing a stray couch pillow and hiding it behind your back.
He notices you hiding a pillow behind your back, so he leans down and grabs another one. While he was doing this, you ran over and started hitting him, gently of course, with the soft pillow.
“Got youu,” you giggle as you smack him with a pillow repeatedly.
“Nope,” he smirks as he grabs his pillow and swings at your abdomen. His strength was unmatched so the hit sent you back a little, almost causing you to fall over.
“Oh, now you’re done for,” you grin as you attack him with the soft pillow and he does the same to you. Giggles and squeals filled the room as you playfully battled it out, neither of you willing to give up. But soon, the teasing turned into a full-blown pillow fight as you both unleashed your inner children, swinging your pillows with wild abandon. Feathers flew everywhere, coating the floor in a soft, white blanket. A couple of swings later, you catch Joe off guard, tackling him to the ground as you place your legs on each side of his hips, caging him in on the floor.
You hold your pillow above your head in mock triumph. He wriggled beneath you, trying to grab the pillow away, but you held it just out of reach, teasing and taunting him.
“I winnn,” you laugh as you look down, smiling at Joe's disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. You were so caught up in the childish moment that you didn’t even realize you were straddling his hips right now, and his hands were resting firmly on your hips. Your shirt had ridden up your thighs a little and you were definitely showing a little too much down there, but you were so caught up in the moment that you couldn’t care less.
“Zoomies?” Joe giggles as he looks into your eyes.
“Zoomies,” you nod as you throw the pillow to the side, trying to catch your breath. A million thoughts were now rushing into your head at once. You were literally on top of him right now, but he didn’t even seem bothered by it. It was like he was enjoying it. Was he enjoying it? You move your hand down, placing each one on his biceps and digging your nails into his soft skin.
Joe was trying so hard not to say something about how you were on top of him right now. He was just enjoying the sight of you above, as silly and sultry as that sounded. He looked down and noticed your bare thighs and the shirt riding up and you seemingly weren’t wearing anything under it other than your underwear, just like he had thought. God, you just looked so pretty and sexy, he thought to himself. Your hair was messy and your cheeks were blush pink, but you still looked gorgeous. You seemed so relaxed and comfortable, and he was trying so hard not to ruin the moment by saying something stupid.
“You look so pretty,” he thought out loud, his face turning red as he realized he said that to you.
“Thank you,” you smile back, internally screaming at his comment. Was he being extra affectionate tonight, or were you just delusional? You definitely looked like a mess right now, and in no way did you look pretty, but his compliment still made your heart soar. A soft yawn left your lips as you rubbed your eyes, now feeling the ‘crash’ part of your hangover.
“Crash time?” he asks as he rubs your thighs, your stomach fluttering at the contact. Why was he being so lovey-dovey right now? His soft hands massaged the plush skin of your thighs as you stared deeply into his baby blues, trying to make sense of what was going on.
“Yeah,” you say as another yawn escapes your lips. You get off of him, slowly standing up as you are feeling the aftermath of the zoomies. Joe holds out his hands just in case you fall over as he gets up.
“You can sleep in my bed and I can take the couch. The guest bedroom is kinda a mess right now since I’m using it for storage until they finish the basement,” he says.
“Hell no. I don’t wanna kick you out of your own bed,” you say as you pick up the pillows from the floor and put them back on the couch, your legs a little wobbly and your head feeling a little woozy. “I’ll take the couch,”.
“No way. You take the bed,” he says as he picks up the stray feathers from the floor.
“Not happening, Joseph,” you mumble as you help him gather the feathers.
He heaves out a sigh, “I’m too tired to fight you on this. Why don’t we just share it?”.
Your heart skips a beat as you look up at him, the look on his face telling you he is 100% serious. Although you and Joe had been friends for years, you had never slept in the same bed together.
“As long as you’re not a kicker,” he jokes.
“Please, I sleep like a baby,” you say as you walk over to the trash can, throwing the feathers into the bin. “Besides, I’m more of a cuddler and not a kicker,”.
“So that’s a yes?” He asks, trying not to sound too eager, especially at the mention of cuddling.
“Fineee,” you smile. “If you insist,”.
Internally, Joe was screaming. He told himself that he’d let things flow the way they were and let things happen naturally, that’s if something were to happen. He didn’t know if he was just reading into things a little too much, but was it just him or were you acting a little different around him?
Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. There was no reason for you to get so worked up over sharing a bed with Joe. It was nothing, just you sleeping right next to him, together under the covers, so incredibly close to his body. It was definitely nothing.
A little later, you're getting ready for bed as Joe brings out an extra pillow for you. You walk over to the bed, open the soft covers, and slide in. His bed was so comfortable; so soft and like a cloud. He turns off the lights and plugs in his phone before joining you in bed. Your heart was beating so fast as he moved into the bed next to you. There was no reason for this to be weird, but you were making it weird.
You moved back against the pillow, sliding down the bed, and pulling the covers up to protect you from the chilly room and to hide your nervousness.
“Did you have fun tonight?” You asked Joe as you stared up at the ceiling.
“Actually? I did. All thanks to you,” he said.
“Really?” You giggled, moving your head to look at him. You could barely make out his face in the darkness, but you could tell he was looking at you.
“Yup. You make everything more enjoyable and bearable for me,” he said, turning his head back over and staring up at the ceiling. “Did you have fun? I hope these football things aren’t getting too repetitive for you,”.
“Not at all repetitive. You know I love doing this stuff with you. I needed a break from life and this was just the thing. Thanks for bringing me with you,” you smiled.
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You know I’m always here when you need something, even if it’s an escape from life for a day,” he says as he moves his hand down to yours, entwining your fingers together as he gives your hand a soft squeeze. Butterflies filled your stomach at his soft touch and meaningful words.
“Besides, I enjoy having you as my permanent plus 1,” he laughs.
“Permanent?” You ask, feeling the heat rise up your body again.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not having much luck in the girlfriend department,”.
“Not saying you’re filling in those shoes and are a filler,” he says, quickly trying to soften his words because of how jerky it sounded. “I just like having you with me all the time, Ya know? That’s prob why people think you’re my girlfriend”.
“It’s okay, Joe. I know what you mean,” you say, adding a fake laugh into the mix. Your stomach did a somersault when he said that. Were you really about to have this conversation about that topic right now?
“But please, I could name at least 100 girls who would be standing at your doorstep in an instant,” you giggle.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want any of those girls,” he says, craning his head over to face you, his hand still holding yours, now tighter.
“I want someone who matches my vibe. Someone who makes me feel normal and doesn’t constantly remind me that I’m a millionaire quarterback. Someone that I can take home to my parents and can feel comfortable around. Someone who can enjoy the simplicity of playing Smash-Bros and building Legos as a date. Someone that appreciates the real me and not the superficial flashy shit,” he says. As he was saying all of this, the girl he pictured in his mind was you. He was describing you. You were what he wanted.
“You didn’t find that with Stella?” You asked, completely oblivious to what he was implying.
“Nah. She was great at first but as time went on I realized that she was more into the lifestyle of dating a football player than the actual relationship part. And I also didn’t feel fireworks with her,” he said.
“Ah yes. Fireworks. Just like your Mom told us,” you remembered. His mom had told you at dinner a few years ago that when she met his dad, she felt fireworks. Fireworks are what you feel when you meet the right person, according to Robin. You hadn’t felt fireworks with any other guy other than Joe, but you never told that to anyone. And he felt the same. He felt fireworks every time he was with you and he’d never felt that with any girl.
“Yeah so I’ll probably die alone, he jokes.
“Please, we’ll die alone together,” you say as you take your hand out of hold and playfully shove his shoulder.
“I’m assuming there’s no guys on your radar?” He wonders, hoping you would say no.
“Nope. There hasn’t been any since Noah,” you replied.
“That was 8 months ago,” Joe gasped.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” you laughed. “You know I’ve never had luck with guys. None of them match my vibe and want something else out of the relationship that I don’t agree with. I want someone real, genuine, and serious,”.
“I could name 100 guys that would be at your doorstep in an instant,” he says, echoing your words from earlier.
“Doesn’t mean I want any of them,” you say, echoing his words.
“Fair point,” he laughs.
“Yeah. So I’ll die alone too,” you joke.
“Technically not alone if we die alone together. We’ll have each other,” he said.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you yawned, feeling another wave of tiredness
“Sleepy time?” Joe chuckles.
“Mhmmm,” you groan as you stretch out your arms. “Don't ever let me drink that much again,” you mumble as you pull the covers higher.
“You got it. Goodnight, Y/N,” he smiles as he turns his head over to you.
“Night, Joey,” you smile before turning over and letting out a deep breath.
20 minutes passed by and you were still wide awake, not finding comfort in his bed which was odd considering it was like a cloud. Your thoughts about you and Joe were also keeping you from sleeping. Ever since your sister mentioned that you were acting like Joe’s girlfriend yesterday, your head was spiraling and the alcohol from tonight was making it worse. And the conversation you just had with him was making it even more confusing. Sure, you did some girlfriend-type things, but you knew he would never look at you that way. He saw you as a friend and that’s all, at least that’s what you thought.
Suddenly, you felt Joe’s hand creep around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your heart stopped and your body froze from the sudden movement. What the actual fuck was going on.
“Joe?” You mumbled, not meeting his eyes because you were literally about to scream.
“Hm?” He mumbled, half asleep.
“Your arm,” you whispered.
“I’m cold,” he muttered as he held you tighter. “And you’re so warm and comfy,”.
Your heartbeat picked up again as you felt his big hand sprawled out against your belly, not to mention that your ass was literally on his crotch right now. His body, although saying he felt cold, was hot. So very hot.
“Is this weird?” he mumbles, opening his eyes. He really hoped that this didn’t weird you out.
You stayed silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say or do. You didn’t feel weird oddly enough as that sounded. Something about this felt natural and so right.
“It’s okay,” you softly spoke. “I’m good,”.
Joe smiled at your response, feeling like he was flying through the clouds right now as he was practically cuddling with his favorite person. Everything about this just felt so right, and he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“Good, you said you were a cuddler so I hope this is comfy,” he mumbled.
You felt your heart exploding as he moved closer to you. His arm around you felt like a safety blanket, protecting you from everything on the outside. A comfortable embrace that you wished you had around you forever. It felt right.
“Trust me, it’s perfect,” you whisper, closing your eyes and losing yourself in his embrace, too tired from the night to fight back.
A few moments later, you were fast asleep, finally feeling comfortable and it was all because of him.
The next morning
Your eyes slowly flutter open as the golden light shines through the windows. You reach out to grab your phone, the time reading 7:35 AM. You felt your head slowly start to throb, a sure result of your hangover from last night. You were just about to get up but you felt a heavy force holding you down.
“What the-” you whisper as you look down, noticing Joe’s hand is still wrapped around your stomach. You had forgotten that you were at his house and in his bed, and he was still wrapped around you.
“Uh oh,” you whisper. You turned your head around and saw Joe sound asleep, looking so adorable as his hair was sprawled out against the pillow and soft snores coming from his mouth. You remember that he brought you here after the party last night, which meant you had no way of getting back home. You didn’t want to wake him up because first, he looked so comfortable right now, and second, you didn’t know how to talk to him after what happened last night. Those thoughts you had about your relationship with Joe only got stronger after the night you had. Although nothing like that happened, your feelings for him surely got more complicated.
“Don’t leave me,” you heard Joe mumble in his sleep.
Your eyes widened at his soft words, was he talking about you? You turned your head around to see if he was awake, but he was still sound asleep and snoring again. He must’ve been sleeptalking, you thought to yourself.
You pulled out your phone again, opening up your messages to beg your friend Lydia to come pick you up. She usually got up early on Saturdays for Pilates so she should respond.
You: emergency! please come pick me up
Lydia: good morning to you too lol. everything alright?
You: everything’s fine I just uhh need a ride home
Lydia: home? where are you??
You: joe’s house
Lydia: oh 👀
You sighed at your friend's text. Now was not the time to have this conversation and you knew exactly what she was going to say. You and Lydia had known each other since Ohio State so she pretty much knew everything about you and Joe’s friendship since you were all a part of the same friend group. She was a huge advocate for you and Joe to be a couple back at OSU, but you always shut her down before she could get too matchmaker-ish. She claimed that she saw something “special” between you two, but your ignorant ass brushed it off over and over, just like how you were doing now.
You: just pls come pick me up
Lydia: on my way ;) be there in 10
You let out a relieved sigh as you carefully peeled Joe’s hand off from your waist, quickly replacing it with a pillow so he wouldn’t feel the difference, and thankfully he didn’t. You walked into the bathroom, grabbed your clothes from last night, and quickly exited his room. You glanced back at him for a few seconds, taking note of the smile on his adorable face and his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow that he thought was your waist.
“Man,” you whispered to yourself as you turned back around and made your way down the stairs.
You waited by the door for Lydia as your mind was exploding with thoughts now that you were sober enough to process everything. What the hell happened last night? Was Joe just being the usual Joe because something felt different about his mannerisms, words, and attitude toward you the entire night? And even this morning, his arm was still around your waist and seemingly wasn’t planning on moving it.
You heard a car pull up and peeked out the window, seeing that it was your bestie. “Thank fuck,” you sighed as you had to escape the scene. You don’t know what you would’ve said to him once he had woken up. Especially since you were 100% in your senses now.
You quickly opened the door, softly shutting it on your way out. You ran over to her car and hopped inside without a second thought.
“Damn, you’re in a rush,” she laughs as she locks the door after you shut it.
“No rush. Just uhh, need to get home,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.
“Whatever you say,” Lydia giggles as she puts the car in drive. “So how was it?” She asks.
“How was what?” You say, raising your eyebrows.
“The sex, dummy,” she laughs.
“What?” You shriek as your eyes widen.
“Don't play dumb with me, Y/N. Is he as good in bed as he is on the field?”.
You stare at her for a few quiet seconds before breaking out into a fit of laughter.
“Oh my god,” you laugh as you lean forward.
“Took you long enough. I’ve been saying this would happen for yeaaaars,” she boasts. “Why else would you need me to come to pick you up from Joe’s house at 8 am while you’re wearing what definitely is his t-shirt and I assume no shorts and just panties underneath?” She adds.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” you wheeze. “I was super drunk last night from the Christmas party and he just brought me to his place,”.
“Ahh, so drunken sex? Even better,” she teases as she winks at you.
“Lydia, we didn’t hook up,” you say, your laughter dying down. “He just gave me his shirt so I wouldn’t have to sleep in my outfit from the party,”.
“Okayyy sure, but that still doesn’t explain why you ran out of his house so early in the morning and why he couldn’t take you home,” she said.
“That’s a long story,” you say, taking a deep breath and falling back into your seat.
“We’ve got time,” she laughs.
“I don’t really know,” you breathe out, staring up at the ceiling of the car. “My sister mentioned the other day that I’m acting like Joe’s girlfriend and it just got me thinking,” you sigh.
“Oh?” She says, a smile forming on her face.
“And last night was weird. I feel like he was being extra affectionate but I don’t know if that was just the alcohol in my system messing with me. And he was talking to me about how he hadn’t found the right girl yet, how he brings me everywhere and that’s why people think we’re dating, and how I’m his ‘permanent plus 1’ because he likes having me around,”.
“Ohhhhh?” Lydia drags out, her face scrunching up as she tries to hold back from saying something about it.
“Don’t get too excited. I already knew that the general public thought that we were together, but I thought we were over that,”.
“You won’t be able to get over that until you admit the truth. And the truth is that you like him. Like more than just a friend,” Lydia blurts out. “I see it, the public sees it, and I honestly think Joe sees it too,”.
You stay silent for a few seconds, a little taken aback by her observation and not knowing how to respond to her since you can barely make sense of your feelings.
“Oh my god? You like him don’t you?!” She yells as she looks over at you.
“I don’t knowwww,” you said. “There’s a lot of thoughts in my head right now and I don’t know what to think. I feel like he’s been acting differently around me, like more lovey-dovey differently but I don’t know if I’m reading into it too much,” you respond.
“Okay, well what are the thoughts in your head saying?”.
“That I think I like him? Or still like him I guess. But I don’t know if he feels the same and I don’t wanna say anything because if he doesn’t, it’ll fuck up our friendship and I can’t lose him,” you say.
“He’s so sweet and perfect. Joe knows me better than anyone and knows exactly how to cheer me up, calm me down, and make me have fun. I’ve never met anyone like him before and being by his side since day 1 has been a dream but also crazy. And the fact that he hasn't changed since we met is even more crazy. Even with all the money, fame, and attention, he's still Joe. My Joe," you smile. “The same adorable, nerdy, football player that was my lab partner in chemistry freshman year,”.
“Girl, you definitely love him,” your friend says, looking over at you with a straight face.
“Love?” You ask, your heart skipping a beat.
“Yes, love. You’ve known each other since freshman year of college and if I’m not mistaken, those feelings have been there since then. You’re doing the same thing you did back then, letting your overthinking get in the way. You’re too afraid of losing him as a friend, but Y/N, what if he has the same feelings as you? This isn’t a matter of liking a boy, it’s a matter of you being in love with someone who you’ve had feelings for since you both met. That’s years and years of unanswered feelings that were being built up inside of you and spilling out right now,”.
Were you in love with Joe? Have you been in love with him all this time? You find yourself smiling as you imagine you and Joe as a couple. Waking up to his adorable smile and sexy morning voice every day, going on cute little dates with him every week around town, kissing him good luck before every game, getting to curl up on the couch with him after every game, and talking about anything and everything together for hours on end without any limitations. It all sounded like a dream, a dream you wished was reality.
Lydia looked over at your face, seeing you with a huge grin on your face and a blush creeping up on your cheeks.
“I knew it. You love him,” she says as she playfully shoves your shoulder. "There is a reason why none of your relationships work out. The person who you've been waiting for has been right in front of you this entire time,".
“Again, I don’t know,” you giggle. “I don’t wanna say anything to him because I don’t know if he feels the same way,”.
“I get that, I do. You don’t want to risk your friendship, but here’s my advice. Go with the flow. If something’s going to happen, it will. If nothing’s gonna happen, it won’t. Let things unfold naturally and if he’s there and waiting for you at the door, open it and never let him leave,” she says. “And I have a feeling that he’s gonna be at the door,” she adds.
You spent a few seconds thinking about her advice. She was right, if you weren’t overthinking it and he really did feel the same way about you, he would be there. And if you were overthinking it, and he didn’t feel the same, you would accept it, bury those feelings for real this time, and keep the ball rolling.
You just had to wait and see.
To be continued!
part 2 coming soon!
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Chapter 11
Prologue | Previous | Next
AN: Firstly I'd like to apologize for teasing y'all in April. However family and my mental health always come first. Turns out that planning a funeral, attending said funeral, and grieving one of the most influential people in your life sucks. Again thank you all for your patience and support. And I hope you'll enjoy it! 🌻
Warning(s): Self Mutilation, Blood Ritual
The morning came too quickly. For once you weren’t the first awake, as Kurakh shook your shoulder. “Come on Odmili, it's morning.” You groan in protest but still sit up, knowing well enough you asked for it. The fire was barely lit, meaning Kurakh mustn't have been awake long. As if he read your mind, “I still have the sand in my eyes.”
“Would you like me to tend to the fire?”
“If you feel so inclined,” he yawns while slowly standing up. You follow behind him, quickly slipping on your boots to protect your feet from the cold stone floor. Fabric rustles behind you as you feed a new log to the fire. The flames were now high and illuminating the small room well. You quickly glance over your shoulder to make sure Kurakh was decent enough for you to tolerate. With a sigh of relief, you turn around. "I don't know how you can function in this cold."
"Years of training," you chuckle while pulling your stay over your shoulders. You didn't even bother to look while you re-laced the front, muscle memory taking over. "Besides, this isn't the worst of it. Wait until the snow is above your knees."
"Only when you say things like that, I regret coming north," he sighs and slips on a furred vest over his tunic.
“I doubt that is true,” eyes rolling at his antics.
“I speak this truth. I have yet to lose a warrior, Moltschab’s horde is too scared to travel this far north, I have gained allies… And I met you.”
You pause in the middle of tying the final knot, fighting to ignore the fluttering of your heart, "that is the most saccharine thing I've ever heard you say." Surprisingly you were met with silence, making you pivot on your heel. Kurakh's confusion was written all over his face. Again the fact that the two of you come from completely different worlds dawned on you. "Saccharine means something is very sweet," you explain while stepping into your habit.
"Oh, I couldn't tell if it was good or bad," he chuckles a little and stands. Retrieving his cloak from a hook on the wall. "If Mazna asks, please tell him I'm out hunting."
"Of course, he should still be asleep, right?"
"Yes, and hopefully for a few more hours. For Roldza's sake."
"Indeed, bless that woman," you smile and begin to re-lace the habit. "Should I assume it shouldn't take long, considering our numbers have grown?" Your smile quickly disappears as a knot forms in the laces.
"Correct," he smirks and approaches you. He gently moves your hair aside, breath fanning across your neck. "You said our numbers."
"Yes, and," you counter while a blush starts to make its way up your neck.
"You're no longer considering yourself an outsider," he carefully takes the laces and undoes the knot. His fingers gently graze along your back as he finishes lacing the habit for you. "That is good."
"Oh... And you don't have to do this for me. I can lace this thing in my sleep."
"I know," his voice didn't give room to argue.
"Then why are you insisting on doing it?"
"Why must you be suspicious of everything I do?"
"Well, we didn't start on the right foot."
"Fair point," he lightly tugs on the laces to signal he's finished. "Would you like me to tuck the laces?" You only nod, trying not to tense up as he tucks the laces into the habit. Kurakh's hand finds its way to your hair and moves it back to how it normally lays. "There. Save for that blasted headcover you look like a proper Maid of Eia."
It felt like you could finally breathe as you stepped away from him, "I'm also missing the pin... But that's the last of my worries right now."
"I'll be fine."
You smack him in the chest playfully, "and what made you so sure I was talking about you? I'm more concerned about Schelura cutting my hair!"
"Right," he smirks, "don't worry, you'll be in good hands. Schelura's family has been hairdressing for generations."
"I thought she was a beadmaster?"
"Most beadmasters are also hairdressers. The work goes hand-in-hand." He hovers in the middle of the room, contemplation written all over his face. "I suppose I should go to the main hall."
"I believe so, Otoschlibt. I'll be right behind you, I just need to fix my stockings." He nods and slowly walks to the door. Taking a deep breath before he opens it, bracing for the cold air of the hallway. "The faster you do it the sooner it'll be over with," you tease. With a quiet laugh, he opens the door and enters the hallway. You watch as he goes, kindly closing the door behind him so you can have more time to savor the warmth.
It didn't take long for you to deem yourself fully dressed. With your cloak fastened you step into the hall. The cool air hitting your face, properly waking you up. The halls were lowly lit with glimmerstone, and eerily silent. As you stepped into the main hall it almost felt like a different world. Warriors bustle about as they prepare. The sound of blades on whetstones surrounded you as you made your way to the center of the room. Kurakh and the commanders surround a table covered by a makeshift map.
Eteos seemed to be the mastermind of the attack, effortlessly explaining as he pointed to the map. No one seemed to pay attention as you sidled up to Kurakh. “We will attack from all sides. Dogar and I will lead the larger group attacking from the south. Kalos will lead the western group and Aren will lead the eastern. Kurah and Galta will lead the northern group to capture the lieutenant and the maid.”
I lean in closer to Kurakh, trying to keep quiet, “the maid I understand, but the Lieutenant? Have you gone mad?”
“We need leverage, and Eteos says the winter will work in our favor by slowing rescue efforts.”
“It could also lead to our slaughter.”
“The council has already voted,” the finality of his tone kept your mouth shut. You could see a hint of doubt in his eye as he refocused. His fingers tapped on the table absentmindedly. Usually, Kurakh was able to keep still, but within the last week, you’ve caught him fidgeting more than usual. Hopefully, it was only his secret project he was worried about.
“Alright everyone, ready your weapons. We must leave before dawn,” Eteos calls to the crowd. Kurakh gently moves you away from the table as he also leaves.
“I'm unsure what we should do for the new Maid, should she stay with us?”
“I don't see why not, but it depends on who she is. It's usually the newly ordained Maids that get drafted.”
“Except you?”
“There might be some marks on my record.”
Kurakh laughs, “So I'm not the only one who's dealt with your attitude?”
“The Elders didn't appreciate the fire in my eyes like you have,” you scoff as you follow him outside. The wargs were already lined up waiting for their riders. Sukkori wags her tail at the sight of you and Kurakh. “With all seriousness, please try to be gentle with this Maid. She is likely not even twenty years old.”
“I'll make sure of it,” Kurakh mounts Sukkori swiftly. “I’ll task Galta with her care. She’s the gentlest option.”
“Gentle is not a word I would use to describe Galta, but it is the better option.”
Galta scoffs from a few steps away, “I heard that!” Even with the lack of sunlight, you could make out the warpaint on both of their faces. The dark red paint dripped from their foreheads and onto their cheeks. While the design was simple it got the point across.
“You’re lucky we don’t have any more to say Galta,” Kurakh laughs before returning his attention to you. “We’ll be careful.” The rest of the warriors make their way towards the gate around the two of you. “I must go.”
You grab his hand, causing Kurakh's breath to catch in his throat, “come back in one piece.”
He brings the back of your hand to his lips, “I promise.” He gently squeezes your hand before joining the group as they speed past the gate. Save for the guard closing the gate you stood alone in the yard. And you stood there until you could no longer hear the centaur’s hooves hitting the frosty ground. Once you made yourself go back inside you began to mentally scold yourself over your lovesick antics. With your mind so distracted you didn’t notice someone walk into the main hall behind you as you set up your triage.
“Didn’t want to go back to sleep I see,” a soft voice startles you from your work. When you looked up there was an Elven woman merely a foot away. Of course, you didn’t hear her coming.
“There was no point, I would’ve just laid awake with worry.”
“I’m the same way when my brother goes out on those missions. I’m Artenna,” she extends her hand. You first noticed the delicate and glowing tattoos that littered her pale hands. It was difficult to pull your eyes away from the faint pink light as you shook her hand. “Sorry, I probably should have given you a warning.”
“You’re a hypnotist?”
“Yes, I promise I’m not as scary as the King makes us sound.”
“It’s not that, I’ve never met a hypnotist before. It’s a niche field of magic, even before the decree.”
Artenna shrugs, “it depends on where you are. My mother also said it used to be more common when she was a child. Can I help you with anything?”
You glance around to see if there is anything left to do, “not at the moment. I already sped through everything I could do. Unless you wouldn't mind keeping me company until they return?”
“It would be my pleasure,” she smiles and sits on a bench across from you. Thankfully Artenna proved to be pleasant company as you exchanged stories, jokes, and camp gossip. After some time passes you both venture outside. The sun was finally over the horizon, signaling for you to continue preparations, and for the rest of the camp to rise. Artenna helps you break the ice and carry water from the well. The luxury will only last a few more weeks until the ice is too thick to break. Then the camp will have to rely on melting snow.
With the last bucket you were willing to carry in hand, the sound of hooves began to echo through the valley. It was urging you to hurry back into the main hall. Setting the bucket beside your tools, hoping no one else will try to use it. As much as you didn’t want to be scolded by Schelura, you quickly shove your hair into your linen cap. Infections are always worse to treat in the winter.
You didn’t know what you expected when the warriors returned, but it wasn’t the Lieutenant being carried in by Kurakh. “What happened?” Kurakh quickly sets him on a table before you.
“He poisoned himself, and we don’t know what he used,” Kurakh grumbles. Galta quickly approaches beside you, with a vaguely familiar shadow cloaked in blue. “Their Maid also doesn’t know what he could’ve taken. The officers are cowar-”
“It’s new, all high-ranking officers are supposed to take it if they get captured,” a meager voice interrupts.
“What is your name,” you glance at her as you roll up your sleeves. Her fair skin was red from the wind and her deep blue eyes were wide in shock.
“Yulla.”
“Cut off his armor and enough of his shirt so I can access his neck,” you reach for your satchel with determination. “Kurakh we’re going to need charcoal, and more wood added to the main fire.” He thankfully didn’t question you and made haste. It didn’t take you long to find your most treasured tools. A tiny iridescent blade that was easily the size of your hand, and almost as thin as your fingers. And a cast iron press of Eia’s true sigil. You carefully set it on the table before searching for other ingredients and bandages.
Yulla sees it and immediately stops in her tracks, “is that a Kisarvuhevstabler?”
“Yes, is he ready,” you didn’t even look up as Kurakh returned with a small bowl of charcoal. Muscle memory takes over as you begin to mix your ingredients in a brass bowl decorated with ancient runes. Before Kurakh gets comfy you push the cast iron press towards him, “this goes in the fire. Long handle facing out obviously.”
Before Kurakh could take it, Yulla attempted to smack his hand away, “Elder, are you insane?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Blood magic is forbidden!”
You couldn’t help but laugh, “it’s only been forbidden for the past six years. While Maids of Eia have used this magic for centuries. I’m not throwing centuries of tradition down the drain, simply because our King gets nauseous at the thought of it. Now you are going to watch and learn a technique that can no longer be taught in the temples, or Commander Galta can find you something else to do. He doesn't have much time left.” Yulla doesn’t respond or leave, conflict written all over her face. You spare a glance at Galta who looked as equally concerned as Yulla. “Galta we’re going to need a bucket that we’re not afraid to get dirty.”
When Galta steps away from the table, Yanna takes the opportunity to stand beside you. You place the bowl on the table, “the potion is made with crushed unicorn horn, charcoal, and stinging nettle. I’ll tell you the exact amounts later.” With a deep breath, you pick up the blade and remove it from its sheath. “It doesn't have to be a Kisarvuhevstabler for the spell to work. They are more a sign of status, to show you know the magic.”��
You take a second to examine the disheveled Lieutenant laid before you. His skin was paling, a mysterious gray forming around the mouth. And his veins looked as if his blood turned black. His breathing was ragged, but strong enough to tell he was alive. It appeared as if he wasn’t able to finish the full dose of the poison considering he survived the journey from the battlefield. By now a crowd has formed around the table, and you try your best to ignore them. The sound of an empty bucket hitting the floor signaled it was time to begin.
With the iridescent blade in your right hand, you turn to Yulla, “I will need you to turn him towards me when I give him the potion. But first, the bucket should be closer to where he will vomit when he is turned.”
“Understood,” she quickly moves the bucket before getting into position. You take a second to scan the crowd, surprisingly unable to find Kurakh anywhere. With a deep breath, you move the blade closer to your left wrist.
The blade pierces your skin, immediately stinging. In the ancient tongue, you pray, “Noble Eia, hear my prayer as I spill my blood as a testament of my conviction to thy doctrine.” As you drag the blade up your arm diagonally, blood pools atop your skin. As soon as the first drop hits the bowl the runes carved inside begin to glow. “Hear my prayer so I may rid this soul's vessel of poison. Hear my prayer so I may heal in thy name.” The pain finally catches up to you, causing the blade to fall on the table.
You steady yourself by leaning on the table, “hear my prayer so this blood is not wasted.” You force yourself to push through the pain, picking up the blade and using it to stir your blood and the ingredients together. The room was silent around you, and every eye was focused on you. You gently lift the bowl to the Lieutenant’s lips, coaxing him to swallow the potion. Once the bowl was empty Yulla tilted him towards you. Luckily for him, it didn’t take long for the potion to work.
The visible darkness in his veins crept up his chest and into his neck as the spell expelled the poison from his body. It was almost like tiny black snakes were writhing in his veins. At this point, you knew he would be saved, and now it was time to save yourself. Weakly you raise your left arm, keeping your wound above your heart, and turn towards the main firepit. The crowd quickly parts for you as you step away from the table. No one said a word to you, mostly staring at you in disbelief. With the silence, it was easy to hear the Lieutenant retch the poison into the bucket.
It was a struggle to move your body through the pain and blood loss. But you've done this before. As you neared the fire it felt like the world around you was spinning. Within the blink of an eye, you were on the floor. Crawling instead of walking to the fire. Many voices were shouting your name. But nothing could shake you from this trance. And none of them could save you from this, there was only one with that power. And you couldn’t help but mutter apologies in the ancient tongue, hoping for a sliver of mercy.
The world around you was slipping away, and all you could see was the hot iron in the coals. It felt like someone was kneeling beside you, trying to talk to you but there wasn’t much time to listen. You grab the handle of the hot iron, determined to prove yourself. With no hesitation, you laid the flat end decorated with sigils and runes onto your wound. The scream that escaped you would be considered unholy by some, but to the clergy, it was one of obedience and understanding. The pain was blinding, no matter how many times you've done it. Perhaps that was the point. The iron was lifted from your arm, most likely not by you. And despite how much you fought it, the void consumed you.
#m orc x f reader#tpow series#the prize of war#original content#male orc x female reader#fantasy#high fantasy#orc x reader#exophilia#tpow
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Piece of highly-anticipated media: releases on a Friday
Person, on Monday: are spoilers still an issue?
Me: ......... what
#THANKS FOR ASKING BUT YES YES THEY ARE#Like it's not anybody's responsibility to not post something at all just please tag it but like I don't feel like it has to be off your blo#completely until a certain point or anything - it's released already so just do what you want with ideally the appropriate tags#But I kind of feel like it's#not in any way respectful to think that everybody who cares about spoilers is going to have watched it in the first few days?#Idk but this is a disability related issue for me#I am absolutely not going to be able to watch everything in the first few days even if I have access to the streaming platform it's on#And I know that some people consider a week to be their limit for when they spoiler things for theatrical releases and it's like...#Some of us can't get to the theater!#From what I'm seeing of certain comments on certain other platforms that aren't tumblr there seems to be an increase in people#feeling free to express how much they relish the world revolving around them because nobody else could possibly be different from them#Which is very much not what the person in my post was doing but the type of thing I see in youtube comments for example just does#not give me a very good tolerance for things that I feel like people could have figured out with a few minutes thinking about how people#might engage with the world differently from how they do
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ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇᴅᴅʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇʟᴜꜱɪɴᴇꜱ — ᴡʀɪᴏᴛʜᴇꜱʟᴇʏ
𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮: Genshin Impact
𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Wriothesley + Reader
𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: NSFW
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 12,925
𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: After beginning work as a doctor at the Fortress of Meropide, Siegwinne decides you and the Duke are a good match, and will do anything in her power to get you to together, even if she has to take drastic measures.
Or, alternatively, Siegwinne adds a little something extra to the Duke's tea. Chaos ensues.
As soon as the suture needle so much as touched the man sitting before you, he was already flinching away.
“That hurts!” He cried, “please, doctor, be gentle with me.”
It was almost laughable, really. Monsieur Phillip was a hardened criminal, or so you’d been told. He was a career criminal, you remembered the Duke remarking, and he’d been sentenced to serve time in the Fortress of Meropide for a myriad of things, such as assault, and even attempted murder, but here he was, a hulking mass of a man, whimpering in pain at the slightest prick of a needle.
“Hush,” you said, tutting gently, “the quicker I start, the quicker it’s over. Now hold still.”
He flinched back again, eyeing the needle like it was out to get him. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Please try and relax. I can assure you, I did go to medical school.”
Before he could say anything else, you made the first stitch, carefully, but quickly enough so as not to cause him too much pain. Even with the numbing gel you’d applied, it seemed that the patient’s pain threshold was quite low. It usually removed enough sensation that any leftover pain would be no more than a pinch, but even with that, you could see tears beading at his lash line.
A hardened criminal, indeed.
You finished the sutures quickly before bandaging the injured shoulder and giving Phillip some care instructions.
“And,” you said, “no more getting into altercations about work times, okay?”
Phillip sighed, casting his eyes away from you.
“Yes, ma’am.”
You smiled, kindly. “That’s doctor to you.”
It wasn’t wholly unexpected. Men tended to have lower pain tolerances than women did. You’d given stitches to many people before, and when it came to whining, the men tended to be the most common offenders.
After Phillip left, you checked up on a woman who was resting in one of the infirmary beds, and after taking her temperature and walking away with your clipboard, you nearly tripped over Siegwinne, who had somehow snuck into your path without you noticing.
“Archons,” you exclaimed, a hand flying over your heart, “I need to put a bell on you.”
Siegwinne ignored your remark. “May I see the patient’s chart?”
You handed it to her. “The patient shows signs of improvement. Her fever has broken, and her delirium has started to clear up. She should make a full recovery.”
Siegwinne hummed meaningfully. “Very good. I was worried about that one. I am glad to hear she is healing well.”
You nodded, then turned, starting towards your desk, but before you could make it, Siegwinne called your name, making you pause.
“Yes?”
Her expression remained impassive, eyes curious, unsuspecting, and she tucked the clipboard under her arm as she closed the distance between you.
“Have you seen the Duke today?”
There it was. You didn’t know what you’d been expecting aside from this. Ever since Siegwinne had caught onto the fact that you’d developed a crush on the Duke, she’d tried to do everything in her power to set you up with him. In the beginning, that was all it was. A crush. It was a crush in the same way one would develop an infatuation with a colleague or schoolmate, based on their appearance or the limited positive interactions they had with them. It was no secret that Wriothesley was an attractive man. He was tall, and handsome, anyone with eyes could see that. You’d heard the whispers among female inmates and guards alike. You were not unique in feeling some form of attraction to him.
But to Siegwinne, your silly crush was an opportunity.
“You’re a good woman,” she told you, “and His Grace is always stressed. I fear for his health. I think you would be the right person to keep him company. You are a good match. Your influence and affection would do him much good.”
Siegwinne came to you with this a few months after you’d started work at the Fortress, completely out of nowhere, stunning you to silence. You had no idea how she’d caught on to your feelings, and when you expressed as much, she went into a rambling tangent about human behavior, something about the dilation of pupils, and how she’d been taking notes, and that was when you cut her off.
“Absolutely not.”
But nevertheless, she persisted.
Siegweinne’s matchmaking attempts rarely ended conclusively, since she tended to see things as a logical cause and effect, and did not at all fit the way any normal human would attempt to court another. They mostly involved putting you and Wriothesley into situations that forced you to speak or interact with one another, with little to no regard to how much said situations were an inconvenience to you. Her first attempt, as such, embarrassingly enough, involved telling the Duke you’d had some kind of accident with an inmate, and when he came to the infirmary to check in, finding you unharmed and working at your desk, all that ensued was a lot of confusion. You wondered why he’d come all that way to see you, and he was surprised to find you not laying on one of the infirmary beds.
But, what her attempts did do, was make the way you felt about Wriothesley, which was no more than a passing fancy at first, grow into something more.
And despite your best efforts, that only made Siegwinne latch on even harder.
“Hello?” Siegwinne said, shaking you from your thoughts, “I believe it is polite to answer a question when asked one, or have human customs changed?”
You brushed off her unintentional rudeness, instead answering what she’d asked you.
“No,” you said, “I have not seen His Grace today. He’s a busy man, Siegwinne. You know that.”
“Well, you should go see him.”
You sighed, leaning down to take your clipboard from under her arm, then crossing to your desk.
“I don’t have a reason to go see him,” you said, sitting down, “and like I said, His Grace is a busy man.”
She didn’t push after that, simply going back to work as you did yours, and you tried to put it out of your mind. You and Wriothesley were friends, you’d say. Even though you usually found yourselves meeting in less than normal circumstances, you were still fond of him. You enjoyed his frank, matter-of-fact personality, and dry sense of humor, and he seemed to enjoy your company as well. Your relationship was as casual as it could be between you and a man who was technically your boss, and friendly enough that you had conversations outside of work related matters. You’d never let Siegwinne know this, but her repeated and clumsy attempts at setting you up were not without some benefits.
That was fine, you supposed. You’d bonded over Siegwinne and her antics, and built a friendship over a shared love of tea, as well as an author you both enjoyed, among other common interests. But that was it. As much as Siegwinne, and, begrudgingly, you, would like to say otherwise, you and The Duke were only friends.
And, it seemed, as you settled into that fact quite comfortably, Siegwinne only grew more brazen in her attempts at Melusine style matchmaking.
Her latest attempt involved trying to shut you in a locked room with The Duke, which failed when Wriothesley produced the master key in order to open the door. It happened a little over a week ago, which made you nervous, because Siegwinne didn’t like letting too much time pass between her less than gentle shoves. You were almost completely certain that Wriothesley knew what was happening, he’d have to be stupid not to, though he hadn’t said anything about it. This was probably to spare you from any further embarrassment, which you appreciated.
The situation was hopeless. You knew that well. But Siegwinne didn’t, and that was beginning to become a problem. You didn’t know why you’d let her get away with this for the handful of months that you had, but maybe, deep down, you hoped that something would actually come from all her meddling.
And apart from that, you had a certain degree of professionalism to uphold. Wriothesley was your boss, and you were both his employee and his doctor. As much as you found yourself wishing otherwise, pursuing your feelings, even if that was an option, just wasn’t ethical.
But still, you could dream, you supposed. Dreaming was harmless.
“I need you to run an errand for me.”
You turned in your chair, raising an eyebrow at Siegwinne, who was staring over at you innocently, a thermos in her hands. You looked at it, then back at her, puzzled.
“Siegwinne, I’m not in the mood.”
She frowned. “To do your job? How unbecoming. I’m simply asking you to deliver this tea to the Duke. His Grace is suffering from a headache. I delivered some to him this morning, but the problem still persists.”
You glanced at the thermos again. “Tea? What’s in it?”
She immediately became defensive, and for a moment, you almost felt guilty for doubting her.
“Medicine!” She cried, “what do you take me for? I’ve brewed a painkiller into the tea. It should help with His Grace’s headache. If you don’t trust me, you can take a sip yourself.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Why can’t you do it?”
Her brows pinched together in annoyance, and maybe a little indignance. “I have to go see a patient, thank you. A young man is complaining of nausea, and finds it hard to stand because of it, so I am going to see him in his cell. Now, will you bring His Grace the tea, or not?”
You sighed. In your own mind, your hesitance was completely justified. Siegwinne had tried to trick you into being alone with Wriothesley many times before this, but then again, if the Duke was actually feeling unwell, and you refused to bring him medicine, what kind of doctor would you be?
And so, you relented. With another sigh, you stood, snatching the thermos from Siegwinne’s outstretched hand.
“Fine,” you said, “I’ll be back as soon as I drop it off.”
If Siegwinne was disappointed by this, she hid it well. She simply nodded, then crossed over to her desk to busy herself with her medical bag. You glanced over a few more things at your own desk before scooping up the thermos and leaving the infirmary after calling a quick few words of parting to Siegwinne, who only nodded.
You shivered a little as you left the infirmary. Siegwinne tended to keep it warmer there, with a space heater sitting in the corner to combat the cold dampness of the rest of the Fortress of Meropide. It was better for the patients, she said, if they had somewhere nice and warm to rest and recover. You were fairly certain she also said something about humans and their preference for warmth, but that wasn’t important at present.
The clang of your boots against the metal floors rang out as you walked, head held high, thermos in your grip. The air smelled of iron and brine, a scent you’d grown used to in the time you’d been working in the Fortress. Artificial light cast everything in a sort of ominous hue, and the low strength of it left everything in partial shadow. It used to make you nervous, not knowing what hid behind them, using them like masks. Now you knew that whatever was waiting for you was something you could handle.
You glanced down at the thermos in your hands. It was warm, likely just brewed. There was no way Siegwinne would have you serve the Duke cold tea. The thermos was plain; unassuming. It was slate gray, probably stainless steel. You turned it over in your hands, studying it. It was just tea. You had no reason to think it was anything other than that. But with Siegwinne, you’d learned to expect the unexpected.
Absently, you stepped into the elevator to take you down to the administrative floor. The car jerked, and with a mechanical clank, began to move. You turned the thermos over in your hands again. It’s just tea. For the Duke. Your poor, ailing boss. You twisted your mouth. It was fine. There was no way Siegwinne would ever do anything to actually harm Wriothesley. You tapped your nails against the surface of the thermos, almost jumping from your skin when the elevator came to an abrupt stop as it reached its destination, jostling you where you stood and ejecting you from your tangled thoughts.
You sighed as you left the elevator, tucking the thermos into your arms and against your chest. Everything was fine. If Siegwinne took anything seriously, it was health. You’d caught her staring intently at you on many occasions, and when you asked her about it, she told you she was making sure you were healthy, in a very matter-of-fact tone, like it was obvious. She may be odd, but she wasn’t going to try and harm anyone.
As you reached the doors to the Duke’s office, you reached into the pocket of your skirt, digging out the key to the lock. Because of the Fortress’s status as a prison, it was only natural that important areas such as the office of the warden would remain locked. The only way to get in was if you had a key or if you were invited by Wriothesley himself. There was also the off chance that the Duke left the doors unlocked, but that was uncommon. Regardless, before you put the key in the lock, you raised your hand, knocking on the door with a great clang.
“Your Grace?” you called, though it was unlikely he heard you through the thick steel, “I’ll be coming in now. I have some tea for you.”
And with that, you pushed the key into place, twisting. With a grunt of effort, you pushed the doors open.
It was as you were opening the door that you heard him, calling to you. It was muffled under the mechanical clank of the doors, making you only vaguely aware of his call of your name, and you hurried to close the door to answer him. The lock clicked as you did, signifying that the mechanism had reset to its previous locked state.
You expected Wriothesley to call out to you again after your lack of response, or even possibly to come see you. It was unlikely that Siegwinne would send you on an errand without previously announcing your arrival. But instead, you were met with silence. You gripped the thermos more tightly, hesitating.
“Your Grace?”
You heard something else then. A soft intake of breath, only able to be heard because of the complete lack of noise, save for the quiet hum of machinery from beyond the doors. Then, you could hear him clearing his throat.
“Yes,” you heard Wriothsley say, from up the stairs, “up here.”
You sighed, relieved, as you made your way up the curving staircase and into the main office.
And as for things you expected to see, this was not among them.
Wriothesley was sitting at his desk, but he looked more than a little disheveled. His coat had been discarded, draped over the back of his chair, and his tie was undone, hanging loose around his neck. His waistcoat was also unbuttoned, as were the top two buttons of the dress shirt he wore underneath the garment. His gloves had also been removed, laying out on his desk beside an empty teacup. His hair was tousled, more than usual, and his face…
You furrowed your brows, suddenly concerned. His face was flushed, a deep pink settled in the apples of his cheeks, very evident against his usually pale skin. Breath, feather soft, expelled itself through parted lips, almost too quickly, as he looked over at you, brows pinching together, as if pained or troubled before the expression calmed. Wriothesley straightened, clearing his throat again, and he was hurriedly fixing his clothing, deft fingers doing up the buttons of his shirt, smoothing back over his hair.
His eyes fell to the thermos in your hands, lingering, before sliding up to your face.
You stared at him, your concern growing more by the second, and after a beat, you crossed to the desk, setting the thermos down.
“Your Grace,” you said, “I’ve brought you painkillers for your headache, but you look… May I examine you? You do not look like you’re feeling well.”
“Examine me,” he repeated, then took a slow breath, squeezing his eyes shut before shaking his head, as if clearing away a fog. He swallowed, raking a hand through his hair, and it was then that you spotted sweat beading on his forehead.
“Yes,” you said, gently, already in doctor mode, “please, let me help.”
He cleared his throat, for what was probably the third time, and you narrowed your eyes. You were rapidly beginning to get suspicious in addition to concerned. There was something he wasn’t telling you. Absently, you found yourself mentally scolding yourself for neglecting to bring your medical bag.
“I’m fine,” he said, though he certainly didn’t look fine, “please, don’t trouble yourself. You’ve come all this way for me, so would you at least sit with me for a cup of tea?”
You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. It was fine, though, you supposed. Staying around wasn’t a terrible idea. It would give you a chance to more closely study the Duke’s behavior, and try and figure out what the problem might be. And so, you stepped to the table off to the side, picking a clean tea cup from the collection displayed there.
“I don’t need any, really,” you said as you leaned over to take the thermos from the desk, “Siegwinne made this for you, for your head. I am happy to sit and talk with you, though, if you want me to.”
Wriothesley smiled easily. “If you like, I can brew you a cup from my personal collection of teas. What do you like?”
You flushed, feeling special, and you turned to busy yourself with arranging his cup of tea to hide the pink in your cheeks.
“You already know my preferences, Your Grace,” you said, over your shoulder, “just a cup of earl gray is fine.”
You heard shuffling, then the sound of a drawer being pulled open, and you knew the Duke was rifling through the collection of teas he kept stored in his desk. Shifting your focus, you removed the small travel cup attached to the top of the thermos, then unscrewed the lid. Immediately, you were hit with the scent of the tea. It was unexpectedly sweet, and sort of floral. It certainly wasn’t the Duke’s usual style, that was for sure. You took another lungful of it, and could make out notes of various medicinal herbs, including rosemary and feverfew, both known to help with headaches. You could also smell a hint of lavender. But there was still that floral, sort of rosy scent, undercut by the bitter, citrus aroma of the feverfew. It smelled a bit like rainbow roses; of petrichor and morning dew and sweet fresh petals. It certainly had herbs in it, some of which were known to help with what the Duke needed, but the combination of them that you were able to discern was puzzling to say the least.
You put it out of your mind, chalking up the roses to being there to help with the bitterness of the feverfew. With a sigh, you poured the steaming liquid into the teacup. It was sort of a deep rouge color, bordering on purple. A nice color, you decided, and not entirely unexpected with what was contained in the tea. You placed the cup on a saucer, then carried it, alongside the still half filled thermos over to the desk, setting them before the Duke. In exchange, he handed you the tea bag you’d requested, which you accepted gladly.
After you’d filled a cup with boiling water, which the Duke always seemed to have on hand in any nearby kettle, ready for a quick cup. You added the tea bag, as well as a few spoonfuls of sugar, then took your seat on the couch by the tea table.
Wriothesley’s face twisted as he took the first sip from his cup, seemingly troubled.
“It’s very sweet.”
You tilted your head. “Is it not to your liking? I’ll be sure to tell Siegwinne to tweak the recipe.”
Wriothesley waved a dismissive hand. “No,” he said, “I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s not my usual style, but I don’t dislike it.”
You nodded meaningfully, blowing over your tea once more.
“How are things over in the infirmary?” He asked, and you sat up straighter, engaged.
“Fine. The usual. I had a man who was scared of needles just before I came over,” you said, “I’d barely touched him before he was telling me to stop.”
Wriothesley laughed, amused. He took another swallow of tea.
“Oh, really?” He said, “Monsieur Phillip, I suspect? That man always gets into brawls, but is terrified of medical treatment. And he never wins those brawls. The gardes always have to pull the other guy off of him.”
You hid your smile behind your teacup. “I know,” you said, “Siegwinne is always scolding him when he comes in for being reckless.”
Wriothesley rested his head on a closed fist, thoughtful, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Maybe a few rounds in the Pankration Ring would do him some good,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t go putting any ideas in his head,” you said, “he might become a permanent resident of the infirmary if he starts entering into any matches.”
Wriothesley made a face, pale blue eyes moving to rest somewhere in the depths of his teacup. “Maybe he’d pick up a few things about proper combat, though.”
It was your turn to laugh. “Maybe, but at the cost of his health.”
You enjoyed this. It was hardly the first time you’d been invited to stay for tea, in addition to being personally invited to tea a handful of times before. Wriothesley’s presence was pleasant and inviting, despite his intimidating stature and appearance. His height dwarfed many other people, and you’d seen few as tall as he was, save for the Iudex, who was far more slim than the Duke was. Where Monsieur Neuvillette was tall and lithe, Wriothesley was broad and powerfully built. His sheer size alone, made only more prominent by the bulky coat he wore around his shoulders, was enough to intimidate anyone.
But despite that, he was an amicable and good-humored man, earnest and straightforward. He made you feel at ease, and your growing affection for him settled low and warm in the spot behind your heart.
His face was getting more pink, you noticed, with a start. You took another sip of tea, watching him closely. His brow furrowed, just briefly, and he was fiddling with the bands of leather around his throat, as if they were suddenly too tight. He shifted in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.
“Your Grace?” You said, and he seemed to snap out of whatever had overtaken him, regarding you with raised eyebrows and an expectant expression.
“Sorry,” he said, “what were you saying?”
You studied him, eyes narrowed, and he laughed, a little awkwardly.
“You’re doing that thing Siegwinne does,” he said, “the thing she does with her eyes. I don’t know how you replicated it so perfectly. There’s nothing wrong, I promise. It’s just suddenly kind of hot in here. Do you feel that?”
You shook your head. In fact, to you, the room was cold. Just as cold as the rest of the Fortress, save for the infirmary. It was the reason for the thermal lining in the pale blue overcoat of your uniform, the color that marked you as medical staff, as well as the reason for the thicker uniform fabric worn by the majority of the other general staff.
“No,” you said, and Wriothesley looked puzzled.
“Oh,” he muttered, puzzled, “I was warm earlier, but I’m starting to get… hot now. I don’t suppose that’s normal?”
You cracked a smile at that. “No, I don’t think so.”
A spell of silence passed before your mind snapped back to what he’d just said.
“You were feeling overly warm earlier? When did that start?”
Wriothesley furrowed his brows, considering your question before answering. He took another sip from his cup, then poured more of the contents of the thermos into it.
“This morning,” he said, “I can’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but it was maybe shortly after I had a cup of tea.”
You snorted, amused. “You realize how little that narrows it down, don’t you? You drink more tea than anyone I know, Your Grace. I need a measure of time, not cups of tea.”
He chuckled at that. “I apologize. I believe it was after Siegwinne delivered the tea she made for my head. Which is feeling much better, by the way. I think what I’ve been drinking while we’ve been chatting has helped kick the rest of it. I’m almost finished with the thermos.”
Suddenly, you made the connection.
Almost robotically, and with learned efficiency, you went over the contents that you’d smelled in the tea, along with their uses. Feverfew, maybe some lavender, and rosemary. All of those had various uses, though they all had one thing in common, which was pain relief. Finally, there was the rainbow rose. The petals and buds were used for medicinal purposes, and could be used as such, similarly to common red roses, for anything ranging from headaches to a sore throat.
Something was missing. Something was wrong. The scent itself had been off.
“The tea,” you said, “from before. Was it sweet?”
Wriothesley nodded, taking another gulp, and finally, pouring the last of the contents of the thermos into the cup. “This brew is sweeter, though.”
You stood, then reached for his teacup, bringing it to your nose and inhaling. You caught the same things as before, but as you mulled them over, something else clicked.
Siegwinne wouldn’t. Would she?
“It’s really hot,” Wriothesley said, and you could see the sweat beaded at his hairline, sticking the hair at his temples to his skin, cresting down his cheekbone.
You reached out, and when the back of your hand made contact with his burning forehead, he flinched, making a soft sound in surprise and alarm.
“Why is your skin so much colder than mine?”
Your skin wasn’t cold. In fact, your body was at an average temperature, kept warm by the layers of clothing you were wearing. By your own assessment, your hands were probably relatively warm. You frowned, reaching into your pocket and withdrawing your penlight, circling the desk to situate yourself closer to the Duke.
The way he was looking at you when you drew closer was strange. Almost hungry. Famished, ice blue hues swept over your form, and you watched as his hands, previously resting on the desk, folded in front of him, over his lap.
You moved closer, leaning halfway over to him, hand making contact with his face to tilt it towards you. He flinched at your touch, breath shuddering, and you studied his eyes closely before muttering a warning and shining your light into his face, instructing him to follow the light with his gaze.
“This isn’t… necessary,” he protested, weakly, and you ignored him. His pupils were blown wide, dark pits in the center of the sky blue of his irises.
“Mydriasis,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him as you switched off your light and pocketed it.
Your hand dropped from his face to just under where his jaw met his throat. You pushed aside the leather straps, just enough to access his pulse point, pressing two fingers to the spot. His heart was racing, quick and erratic, and you felt him shudder, breath heavy, his jaw setting tightly as your hands drifted across his skin, probing and searching. His skin was burning with heat, feverishly so, and coupled with the elevated heart rate, the blown pupils, and the way he seemed to flinch whenever you made contact with his skin directly, you could only make one conclusion.
“So,” you said, backing up to stand up straight, “this started after you had the first brew Siegwinne dropped off, yes?”
Wriothesley nodded. “It did.”
His voice. It had dropped several octaves in the time you’d been examining him, and you cursed the effect it had on you, coursing hot through your bloodstream. It felt so deeply unprofessional for a doctor to even think of her patient in the way the brief thoughts that fluttered through your mind suggested you do.
“Is it worse after this second batch?” You forced yourself to say.
He huffed a laugh. “You could say that.”
And it was then when you noticed, from where you were standing, that Wriothesley’s belt was undone. Rosy hues colored your cheeks as you yanked your gaze away.
“You need to tell me all of your symptoms,” you said, “spare no detail.”
Panic briefly flashed across his face as he crossed and uncrossed his legs.
“Hot,” he said, “I feel far too warm. Do I have a fever?”
You narrowed your eyes. He was purposely hiding the truth, but nonetheless, you answered.
“Yes,” you said, “but I believe it’s because your body is overheated and not because you're fighting an infection. I just said not to leave anything out, Your Grace, please tell me everything. As your doctor, I–”
“I’m… Archons, I don’t want to say it,” he paused, searching, almost frantically for something else to focus on. “What was in that tea?”
You swallowed, leaning back to rest against the desk.
“Herbs,” you said, “rosemary, feverfew, and lavender. All meant to help with pain and headaches. But I could also smell rainbow roses.”
Wriothesley brightened. “Yes, I thought that was what I tasted. It brings such a unique flavor to the table, don’t you agree?”
You fought a smile, endeared by him, but now was hardly the time. You needed to figure out what was wrong with him, not to discuss tea.
“Yes,” you said, “but it was strange. Too sweet. It only gets to that level when the powdered roots of a Sumeru rose are included alongside the powdered roots of a rainbow rose, in which case the combination can make–”
Oh. Oh.
As you were talking, it clicked into place. The scent, which you’d thought was much too sweet before, suddenly made sense. Sumeru rose must have been the final ingredient. It was flavorless when consumed, but smelled quite sweet. When combined with rainbow roses, the scent of the two grew overpoweringly saccharine. Unless diluted, it would almost resemble a syrup. If the rainbow rose petals were boiled alongside the powdered roots of the Sumeru rose, it could become a powerful medicine able to soothe a bad cough. But if the roots of both plants were powdered, the results were…
You cursed yourself for being so stupid. Of course, Siegwinne would see nothing wrong with this. Medicine was medicine, regardless of what the outcome of its ingestion spelled, so long as it got the desired result. To her, the suggestion of something unbecoming would be taken with great offense.
“‘Can make?’” Wriothesley supplied, and were already imagining the ways in which you were going to rip Siegwinne a new one.
“I need your symptoms. Now. I am a doctor, Your Grace, I promise I will be as non judgemental as possible, just please–”
“Damn it,” he interjected, face hidden in his hands, “I’m aroused.”
Anything you’d just been about to say left your mind, swept away by dread, because you knew what was happening.
Siegwinne was evil. You could already picture her expectant, innocent face, asking just how her little ‘experiment’ had gone, and it filled you with boiling rage.
Though, there was also the fact that she could simply be misinformed. Melusines had different reactions to some medicines than humans did, and it was equally possible that she simply thought that, if dosed with the tea, the Duke’s feelings for you, if he had any, would just be made more prominent. For her sake, you hoped it was the latter.
“Aroused,” you parroted, trying hard to stay professional and failing miserably, because this was unethical on so many levels, “tell me more about that.”
He made a strangled, startled sound. “You want to know more?”
You wanted to melt into the floor. “I need to know how strong the dose you’ve been given is.”
“Dose?!” He said, “of what?”
You refused to look at him. “When mixed together, the powdered roots of a Sumeru rose and a rainbow rose create a powerful aphrodisiac. I believe the first dose you received was a weaker version, and this one is much stronger.”
Silence followed as Wriothesley took in the information, then cleared his throat.
“Do you have an antidote?”
You raised your head to look at him properly. He looked almost haggard, the flush from his face creeping down his neck.
“There… kind of isn’t one.”
Wriothesley made a sound of frustration in the back of his throat, hands raising to card through his hand, and it was then that you noticed it. Now that his hands were no longer hiding it, you could see it, there, outlined against the dark fabric of his slacks.
He was hard.
A wave of suffocating, shameful arousal washed over you, and you forced yourself to look away, to ignore it.
You could only begin to imagine how he was feeling. The way you were feeling was nothing compared to him, his condition undoubtedly much more intense than your own physical reaction in response to his arousal, and you could feel his eyes on you as you scrambled to find a solution.
“What am I going to do then?” He asked, “it’s getting… I’m sorry, It’s getting rather unbearable. I tried everything. It’s impossible to ignore, and I know I can’t use my hands.”
You spared him a glance. “Why?”
“Because,” he said, “I was already trying that. It wasn’t enough.”
Oh. The unbuckled belt. His disheveled state when you’d walked in. He’d already been dealing with the effects of the first dose, or at least attempting to. The call of your name, as you were entering the office. The silence before he summoned you up to the second floor.
Fuck. He’d been thinking of you.
That had to be one of the hottest things you’d ever heard, professionalism be damned. Arousal rolled over you like a breaking wave, making you bite into your lower lip.
You knew what needed to happen. You knew the effects of this particular drug would take, and you knew that the only way to relieve his symptoms was either to very painfully wait it out or to… find relief. In this case, that entailed another person.
“You need to have sexual intercourse,” you said, “or you can wait it out.”
Wriothesley cleared his throat. “Wait it out,” he said, “right, I can do that. How long will that take?”
You twisted your hands together. “It… depends. You were likely given a pretty strong dose, even for someone your size. By my estimate, it would probably take several hours for it to work its way out of your system.”
He chuckled dryly, humorlessly. “Great.”
You cleared your throat. “Do you have someone I could… call? A girlfriend?”
He snorted, as if amused by the idea. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
That would make sense, you supposed, if he was calling out your name, and not the name of another woman.
“We both know what Siegwinne is doing,” Wriothesley said, “not just with this, but for the past few months. I can’t pretend I’m not fond of you, and neither of us can pretend there isn’t something between us.”
It was like the ground dropped out from under you at the sheer brazenness of his admission. You stared at him, thunderstruck.
“You… what?”
A cavalcade of thoughts crashed together as you rapidly attempted to process what he meant by that, but he barely gave you any time before he started speaking again.
“Look,” he said, “if you don’t feel the same, I can accept that. I’ll wait it out, and we can pretend this never even happened. But if you do, are you even… slightly interested in um… helping me? Because honestly, I feel like I’m about to explode.”
Heat coiled low in your stomach, threatening to overtake you as the lovely rasp of his voice made any of your logical thoughts close to meaningless. This was so vastly unprofessional. He was your boss, and you were his doctor. But something dangerously close to want was settling neatly over that space you usually reserved, that you looked to for reassurance about your professional standing with the Duke, to tell you that your feelings for him, ever growing, were improper.
And when you turned, watching his face, the way his hungry gaze traced your body through your uniform, something in you snapped, and you threw caution to the wind.
Head lowered, face flushed, you swallowed your rationality and any remaining hesitance you had left.
“I suppose,” you said, “I could use my hands.”
Wriothesley’s body jolted in anticipation, and his eyes betrayed his hesitance, darkened to steel blue with lust as he nodded once, then once more.
“Hands,” he repeated, “yes, hands are good. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”
You found it touching that he was at least trying to take your comfort into account, even when he was drowning in desire, and you took a slow step forward as he shifted, pulling his chair out enough to allow you room to situate yourself on the floor in front of him. As you took another step, he took his coat from the back of his chair and laid it at his feet, another gesture you appreciated.
Once you reached him, you knelt down between his thighs, and he watched you with burning eyes, flinching when your palms smoothed over his clothed thighs, jaw tightening. Medical curiosity echoed briefly in the back of your mind, taking note of just how sensitive the drug had made him to the simplest of touches, how he shivered as your nails grazed against the insides of his strong thighs.
Fuck, he was radiating heat. So much so that it was beginning to affect you, and you shifted back on your knees to remove the overcoat layer of your uniform, leaving you in the blouse and underskirt beneath it. Wriothesley’s eyes followed your motions with rapt attention, and when you moved forward again, settling, you felt him jolt when your palm met his leg once again.
This close up, you could see it, just how much he was straining against his trousers, his erection pressed against his zipper, and hesitantly, you cupped it in your hand.
The Duke gasped at your touch, fingers twitching where he’d curled them around the armrests of his chair, then tightening in a white-knuckled grip as you ever-so-gently squeezed. He twitched against your palm, and you removed his belt entirely, dropping it to the floor with a clatter before you were unfastening his button and zipper.
You palmed him through the fabric of his underwear, and you could already feel how big he was just from that. A sort of eagerness threaded its way into the burn of your arousal as you pushed away any remaining layers, pulling him free.
Fuck. He was so thick, and when you slowly wrapped your hand around him, your fingers just barely met. He was long, too, though you supposed it made sense for a man of his size. He was flushed red, painfully hard, and when you squeezed, you felt him twitch once more, his body tightening like a coiled spring. His hands tightened their grip on the armrests, flexing, and you felt his hips shift forward, unconsciously.
The first stroke made his head roll back, the sound he let out one of relief, just from that simple touch alone. It made you squirm in place, the sound of his voice and the stricken hitch of his breath causing the desperation of his arousal to bleed into your own building need. Precum was beaded at his tip, and you almost wanted to lean forward to lap it up, especially as more leaked out in response to the way you were stroking him in slow, even movements.
Heavy breath expelled through clenched teeth, followed by a low, low groan as your thumb found his tip, rubbing in slow circles, and it was then that you leaned forward, giving into temptation as your tongue pressed to the underside of the head of his cock in a slow lick.
“Oh,” he gasped, “oh, you don’t have to– oh, fuck.”
He cut himself off as you lapped at his slit, groaning through his teeth. He was already completely lost to pleasure as you pumped the base of him, and when you took him into your mouth, sucking on the tip, you heard him curse, a sound drawn out with a low, decadent groan.
“You said your hands– oh!”
Arousal was settling low and smoldering hot in the pit of your stomach, pooling between your thighs, and you whined as he whispered your name. You released him from your mouth, hands moving to rest on his thighs, and you dragged your tongue up and along the underside of his dick, gathering up any precum that had dribbled down. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his slacks, lips grazing the side of his shaft, and he repeated your name, louder, voice twisted with an urgency that made your blood sing.
It was embarrassing, just how quick you’d gotten like this, punch drunk on the reactions he gave you, the way his body reacted to your touch. It filled you with an addicting sort of power, one that threatened to overtake you if you weren’t careful. But right then, all you wanted was to add fuel to the ever growing fire. And, with the way he was breathing, rough and ragged and broken, you doubted he’d be opposed to that.
Your tongue flicked out, against the fold of skin just below his tip, and he tensed, crying out helplessly. When you finally took him in your mouth, fully, his head fell back against his chair, a feral groan tearing itself from his throat as your tongue pressed firm against him. Your hand moved from his leg to encircle the base of him again, squeezing and stroking in tandem with the slow bob of your head, and making the Duke gasp at the sensations.
When you sucked, just a little, Wriothesley babbled a string of curses, hips twitching up towards your mouth, and when you ducked down, bobbing your head, one of his hands flew from the armrest to the back of your head. You thought he’d push, or maybe take control, but all he did was lace his fingers into your hair, unmoving. His body shuddered under the roll of your tongue, under the press of your free hand to his stomach, creeping under the layers of clothing covering him, his skin fever hot against your own.
You took him deeper, and he twitched, hips jumping as you hollowed out your cheeks, drawing back before surging forward once again. You relaxed your jaw further as his hips bucked, and he muttered an apology, breathless and feverish. His head pitched back as you rubbed your thumb against his base, and he twitched again, sharply. When you looked up at him, through your lashes, he was gazing down at you with hooded, burning eyes. There was desperation in his cool blue hues, a wordless plea for anything, everything you could give him.
And with everything you had, you delivered.
You dropped your jaw, swallowing as much of him as you can, drinking in the sound of his breath shuddering, tapering off into a low moan. You sped up, gradually, and the sounds he made were so madly erotic that you found yourself aching to reach between your thighs and take care of your own growing need, but you could hardly focus on anything apart from taking him as deep as possible without choking. The sheer girth of him was enough to make your jaw sore, and when you moved forward again, he hit the back of your throat, making tears catch in your lashes.
“Fuck,” he groaned, drawing the word out with the sound, long and low and you kneened around him, making him curse and buck.
The hand not tangled in your hair raised to his face, balling tight, and he bit down on his fist, stifling his uncontrolled cries of ecstasy, eyes squeezing shut, brows pinching in concentration. He was trembling beneath your touches, twitching against your tongue, and when you moved back to suck on the tip, slow and indolent, the noise that left his mouth was nothing short of pornographic.
“Yeah,” he seethed, voice breathy, needy, “fuck, yeah, don’t stop.”
Not a chance in hell you were doing that. You clamped your thighs together, squeezing around nothing, and you knew you were soaked, evident in the way your panties were sticking to your skin, your thighs tacky with sweat and the soak of your own arousal. Your hand curled into a fist where it rested on his stomach, then flattening once more and flexing, searching for anything to anchor yourself. When you took him into your mouth once more, fully, he bucked his hips, groaning with no regard for volume. He was close, teetering on that edge, evident from the way his grip on your hair grew tighter, the way you could feel the muscles in his stomach tensing, and when you took him deep and sucked, he moaned, long and low, the sound almost forced from his fraying lungs. The sensitivity had to be maddening, you decided, and you’d use that to your full advantage.
Slowly, you pulled back, lapping at the leaking tip, hand working tirelessly at the base of him, and you barely had any warning before he tipped over the edge, back arching, breath all but leaving him. You shifted back in surprise, reflexively, and cum painted itself across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, the seam of your lips. You closed your eyes in an attempt to keep anything from getting into them before you were hurrying to take him in your mouth, sealing your lips around him. His hand was fisting in your hair, and the sound he made, a low, breathless groan, was one of sheer, debauched relief.
You sucked, and he let out an obscene moan as you swallowed down his cum, hips jerking, the hand previously fisted between his teeth flattening against the desk, palm slamming down, just once, and you heard the rasp of wood under fingernails as he moved to grip the edge.
You slowed, working him through the intensity of his orgasm, as he twitched and throbbed under your touch, the sheer volume of cum surprising you. It leaked from your mouth, down your chin, and you did your best to swallow as much of it as you could. He slumped, boneless, against his chair, and when you moved to clean him with your tongue, you got to listen to the delightful sound of him gasping from oversensitivity.
“Fuck,” you heard him say, dazed and utterly breathless, “fuck.”
Slowly, you drew back, and his eyes followed you, breath hitching and gaze darkening as he took in your appearance. The sight of you, knelt before him, covered in his cum, was enough to make him groan aloud, cheeks flaring pink.
“Archons,” he said, “that has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You let out a short, breathless chuckle.
“Do you have a rag or something?”
He nodded, once, and you stood on shaking legs before leaning sideways against the desk, and he pulled you closer, gently wiping your face clean with a tissue before depositing it in the trash situated under his desk.
“How do you feel?” You asked, and he huffed what may have been a laugh, nearly disbelieving.
“That was… Incredible. But I’m still, um…”
You crooked an eyebrow, watching him, expectantly.
He looked almost guilty. “I’m still hard.”
Oh. Oh.
You weren’t completely surprised. You didn’t know if a blowjob alone would be enough to work the drug from his system, and clearly, it wasn’t. Not that you minded. Your own arousal was a steady pulse below your skin, working like a second heartbeat. Desire coursed through you, and you pressed your thighs together once more. You wanted it. You already knew that. You wanted him.
“Alright,” you said, and what was left of any phantom of resolve, or the shreds of your until recently professional relationship with him all but vaporized, “sit back.”
“You don’t have to,” he started, the protest as fragile as glass, but you cut him off.
“I want to. I’ve… wanted this– you– for a while. So please, Your Grace– Wriothesley. I want it all. If you’ll have me.”
That was all it took. With a low, shuddering breath, a signal of his rapidly fraying restraint, he was yanking you forward and into his lap, his fingers working the buttons of your blouse open, hurriedly shucking it down your shoulders once undone. He made quick work of the ties fastening your skirt to your body, and you briefly shuffled off of him to drop it to the floor, along with your stockings, before resituating yourself on his lap.
“If I’ll have you?” He rumbled, the low, rough ombre of his voice sending prongs of lightning down your spine, and he yanked you closer, mouth dragging along the curve of your jaw.
“How could I possibly refuse?”
And then, for the first time, he was kissing you.
His lips were burning hot against yours, and your fingers found his hair, threading into messy locks, nails dragging against his scalp. He huffed a sigh into your lips as he nudged his tongue between them, tilting his head to slot his mouth more firmly against yours, and when his tongue dragged against yours, you moaned, low and soft, into his mouth. He kissed you slow and deep, almost a juxtaposition to the way he was feverishly running his hands, large and calloused, down your body, and when his fingers grazed over the patch of nerves just where your lowest rib met the curve of your waist, you shuddered in his hold.
You could taste the tea he’d been drinking on his tongue, cloyingly sweet, and it was almost too much when mixed with the heady, spiced smell of his cologne. Everything about him was overwhelming you in the best way possible, rendering you pliable and soft in his hands. Fuck, Wriothesley needed his own warning label. It was almost funny, really, just how riled up you were when he was the one who had been drugged with an aphrodisiac.
His teeth caught your lower lip as he drew back, tugging, before he was diving back in, hands planted firmly on your hips, and you let out a stuttering gasp as he pulled you forward, his bare cock pressing against your stomach.
The way he shuddered at the contact was enough to make your head spin with arousal, and when you shifted forward once more, just to see what he’d do, the grip on your hips grew to nearly bruising.
“You have no idea,” he husked, low and rough, the very threads of his sanity slipping from between his fingers, “how hard you’re making it to hold back.”
His words shot straight between your thighs, and you rolled your hips again, loving the way he stiffened. You felt his palm, dragging slowly up your body, then finally moving to cup your breast through the fabric of your bra, squeezing. You arched your chest into his touch, his name whisper soft on your lips.
He unfastened your bra after some fumbling, his coordination clearly beginning to become impacted by the drug. Once the garment was discarded, he barely gave you time to breathe, and you gasped when his head dipped down, mouth dragging across the valley of your breasts, skating along the side of one before his lips found one of your nipples, drawing it into the heat of his mouth.
He groaned at the taste of you, indulgent, as he laved his tongue over your flesh, hands sliding up to grip your waist, holding you in place, allowing him to explore the newly exposed skin with his mouth as much as he pleased. He was strong, his grip like iron, but it didn’t prevent you from slowly rocking your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against his bare cock, and the way he groaned into your skin was a sound of delirious pleasure.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, almost disbelieving, “fuck, I’m a lucky man.”
His tender words made your heartbeat quicken, and you squeezed him closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers catching on the buttons of his shirt, and you quickly unfastened them, pushing the cloth away to smooth your palms over his bare skin. Gently, you pushed him back against the chair you were both situated in to look at him, and the sight before you was almost too much.
You already knew he was muscular, that much was obvious by just looking at him. But beneath his clothing, among thickly corded muscle was a patchwork of scarred flesh. You’d known about some scars; three of them crept up over the collar of his shirt, partially hidden by the straps he wore around his throat. There was also a collection of them on his arms, and of course, the one under his right eye. The ones that were hidden wove their way across his chest like a roadmap, some of them faint, and others more prominent, pale threads across his already pale skin. You laid your palm against him, tracing the one closest, and he shuddered, leaning into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. Your fingers skimmed down his chest, to his trim waist, and when your thumb caught in the deep v at his waist, he let out a soft grunt.
One of his hands moved from your waist to your hip, squeezing the plush flesh, then migrated to the apex of your thighs, and when his middle finger rubbed you through the sodden fabric of your panties, a high, breathy whine tore itself from your throat. He pressed harder, and your back arched, eyes falling half-lidded when he circled your clit through the fabric.
Then, without warning, he was pushing the cloth aside, and the feel of his calloused finger dragging across your entrance was enough to make you jerk in his hold.
He dipped his head, forehead making contact with your shoulder, and it took you a moment to realize he was watching himself, observing the sight of his hand between your legs. When your hips twitched, he used his opposite hand to hold you steady, effectively forcing you to stay in place as he did what he pleased with your body.
“Please,” you whispered, and that was all it took for him to tire of his teasing, sinking his finger inside you with a slow, indulgent movement.
You gasped, the sound bleeding into a moan when his finger curled inside of you, and he pushed you down, forcing you to take him to the knuckle. You whispered his name as he curled his finger again, and when he added a second finger, you squeezed your eyes shut. He groaned at the sound it made when he thrust his fingers into you, the lewd, embarrassing schlick of you around him, and you had to take a moment for your jumbled thoughts to catch up with you. His fingers were so much thicker than your own, not to mention longer, and he was hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. He thrust again, and you cried out, hips twitching, causing him to tighten his grip.
The curl of his fingers hit a spot inside of you that made you see stars, and when he felt the way it made you tighten around him, he began to abuse it with everything he had.
“Oh, Gods,” he groaned, “you’re so wet.”
You could do no more than gasp as his palm ground against your clit, and he held you there, forcing you to take it as he pressed in slow, maddening twists of his wrist before replacing his palm with his thumb.
It was arousing how easily he could manhandle you, and you had absolutely no desire to fight against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You were getting close, embarrassingly quickly, and you could do nothing to stop yourself from hurtling towards that end, walls throbbing and contracting around his fingers.
One of your hands shot between you, encircling his thick wrist, and you weren’t sure what the purpose of that was, either to push him deeper or simply to find purchase, but you did know that your desperation made his dick twitch where it was pressed between you, forcing him to stifle a groan.
You convulsed in his hold, hips jerking in his iron grip, his name on your lips, and with a final press of his thumb against your clit, you came hard around his fingers, biting down into his shoulder, and he worked you through it with slow thrusts that made stars and celestial bodies dance across your closed eyelids. You called his name, urgent and drawn out, yet high and needy, and he replied with a groan of his own, his free hand flying from where he was holding you in place to wrap around his own cock, palming it, thumbing the head, forcing a moan from between his teeth.
You slumped heavily against him as you fell from your high, and when he withdrew his fingers, you let out a shuddering breath, the sensitivity sending your thoughts into nonsense. Your head was spinning, thoughts in a daze, and all you could feel was him as he panted for breath.
Seconds of silence, only interrupted by heavy breathing, passed before you rose on unsteady legs to discard your panties before you were settling over him once more, and he watched with hazy eyes as you shifted forward, pressing your bare cunt against the underside of his shaft in a slow grind. His mouth fell open in a silent cry, brows pinching upwards, the sensitivity clearly unbearable. Suffocating, maddening lust worked its way through your bloodstream like a toxin, and you knew he needed more, from the way his hips rutted up in halfway thrusts as you rubbed against him.
“Fuck,” he choked, head falling back as the tip of his cock caught against you, “I wanna–”
You rocked forward, and his entire body jolted, tearing a groan from deep in his chest.
“What do you want?” You asked, breathless, and he lifted his head to look at you, the fog of desire in his eyes downright sinful.
He yanked you close, trapping his cock between your bodies, and into a frenzied kiss, his restraint all but gone as he unabashedly moaned at the feel of your skin.
“I want,” he husked, mouth pressing open kisses against your jaw, and he stopped, breath hot against your ear, “to be inside you.”
Your breath left you in a rush, and you drew him into a deep kiss, one he returned with vigor, hands smoothing down your body to grab at your hips, pressing you forward and against him once more, and when you pulled back, his eyes were wild with desperation and maddening lust.
“I don’t have protection,” he said, and you shook your head, dismissing him.
“I’m on birth control,” you said. Siegwinne made the tonic you took, something she supplied even to female inmates to help with lightening periods. But right now, it would be used for its intended purpose. Wriothesley nodded as he took this information in, seemingly relaxing a little.
“Please,” he mumbled, and you blinked, surprised to hear him beg for anything, but you were hardly going to deny him, “I’m going insane. I need you.”
You took a shuddering breath as you shifted up, using one hand to brace yourself as you took his cock in your hand, pressing him against you. You both cried out in unison at the feeling, even the slightest whisper of much needed friction enough to make you feel lightheaded, and you felt his hands grasp your hips, urging you downwards.
You sank down, slowly, and even the tip of him was a stretch, a dull ache blossoming as you pressed closer. Both hands landed on his shoulders, breath heavy, and he groaned lowly at the sensation.
“Slow,” he said, fighting for control, “c’mon, you can take me. Relax, deep breaths.”
You nodded, once, as you did as he instructed. Your knees shuffled as you pressed yourself down, met with more resistance, and forcing you to stop, gasping for air. He was only halfway in and you already felt full, stretched to accommodate him. It was unfamiliar and new, and you weren’t used to this, but his grip was tightening, and with a deep breath, you thrust down, taking the rest of him in one quick motion.
The sting of the stretch danced across your frayed nerves like a livewire, and you grit your teeth, head slumping forward as Wriothesley let out a long, low groan, both of his hands rushing to your hips, squeezing, keeping you in place.
A string of curses left his lips as his head fell back, and you could feel him throb inside of you, so deep you could hardly believe it, stuffed full to the brim.
“Just– oh, or you could just take it all. Fuck,” he quieted, breathing heavily, before speaking again, “are you– did that hurt you? Are you okay?”
The pain wasn’t horrible, and you hesitated to even call it pain. It was just an ache, dull and unpleasant, but you’d been wet enough that taking him hadn’t caused you any actual damage. You sat still as you adjusted, the aching burn of the stretch rapidly fading into something maddening, replaced by a desperate need.
“I’m fine,” you said, voice strained, “I’m okay.”
He nodded, once, before drawing you close, linking your mouth to his in a kiss far more gentle than you’d expected. You felt him throb, and when you squeezed, you got the pleasure of hearing him groan your name.
“You’re so tight. Please, please– yeah–”
His head fell back as you rocked your hips, lifting yourself up, only to sink back down, and when you repeated the action, he groaned helplessly, a string of almost nonsensical praises spilling past his lips, only serving to make you want to wreck him even further.
Sheer, uncontained relief was tangled inextricably with every sound he made, his hands squeezing your hips as you took him again, and again, and again, and oh fuck, you felt like you were being split open, impaling yourself repeatedly on his fat cock. The burn from before turned into pure ecstasy, the stretch of him inside of you intoxicating, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck as you moaned out his name. He wasn’t even bothering to stay quiet, not that it mattered, nobody could hear from outside the heavy office doors, which was an advantage right then.
You keened as his hips rose to meet you, the base of his dick rubbing against your clit. You sank down, taking him fully, ejecting any rational or sensical thought from your head, grinding in deep, easy circles, and you could feel blunt nails digging into your hips as he held you in place, totally drunk on pleasure.
His grip eased as you slid back up before taking him again, and he was kissing you frantically, one of his hands flattening against your breast, rolling the nipple under the rough pad of his thumb, making you whimper into his mouth.
“Faster,” he hissed, pulling back to meet your eyes, “faster, ride me faster.”
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, using them as leverage to move yourself faster, arching your back as the new speed made you see stars, and you whined, burning pleasure shooting through you at the grind of his cock against your clit.
“Good girl,” he groaned, dizzy with pleasure, “yeah, just like that.”
You could feel yourself getting close again, and you groaned his name as you swiveled your hips. Your thighs were beginning to burn with the exertion, even with just the short time you’d been moving at this pace, and when he felt you shudder, his hands found your waist, helping you along.
“That’s it, gorgeous,” Wriothesley panted, “that’s it, fuck me just like that.”
He was moving you with his own hands, easily, and you tried your best to move along with him, swiveling your hips whenever he bottomed out, and his head fell back in rapture, gasping for air.
Your orgasm was approaching fast, and you were helpless to its pull as you sped up, chasing after it frantically, the sound that filtered through your clenched teeth one of desperation. You felt like you were losing yourself, and when you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his throat, an unrestrained groan fell past his lips, his hips bucking up with enough force to make you see stars. When his thumb pressed against your clit, you tipped over the edge hard, stilling as you clung to him, sobbing his name into the curve of his shoulder.
You tightened to a vice grip around him, throbbing as your climax crashed over you, and you heard him growl at the sensation, hips bucking, still working his cock up into your messy cunt. Before you could even start to come down from your high, you were moving, and the frigid steel of the floor met your back, rapidly heating from contact with your skin. One of his hands gripped at your leg, tucking beneath your knee and holding it up, and then he was driving forwards, hips slapping against yours as he filled you once more.
He paused, shaken by the intensity of the sensation, before his head pitched forward, breath heavy, and he was thrusting again with a renewed vigor, nails digging into your flesh.
His name was the only thing on your tongue as he fucked you, so good it made you feel like your head was emptying itself out. His mouth found yours as he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his forearm, laid beside your head, giving him more freedom to do what he pleased with his hips. The base of his dick was rubbing against your clit once again, and you whined, squirming beneath him, but he wasn’t letting up.
“Wriothesley,” you gasped, head fuzzy, completely cock drunk as he broke the kiss to mouth at your neck, “deeper.”
He groaned, low and indulgent, and when his hips snapped forward, filling you completely, your back arched against his chest.
“Deeper?” he repeated, the baritone timbre of his voice lowered to an uneven bass, “you want it deeper? That what you want, gorgeous?”
“Please,” you sobbed, “please, give it to me.”
A low, rough chuckle was the only warning you got before he was thrusting forward, hips flush against yours, and he repeated the action, again, and again, and again, making you bite your lip to keep from wailing at the intensity of it all.
“Oh, fuck,” you heard him gasp, stricken, indulgent, “fuck, yeah, that’s it.”
It felt so good you could hardly think, and when you babbled his name, lust drunk and fucked dumb, he pressed soft kisses along the column of your throat, almost like a reward, a thank you for letting him do this to you.
His pace was growing sloppy, but he showed no signs of letting up, and in the back of your mind, you figured was probably just going to keep on going, even if he came. It was rapidly beginning to become far too much for you, and you moaned, high and breathy, when he rammed himself all the way in, grinding his hips before pulling out less than a quarter of the way, then thrusting back in. He was so deep, and you writhed under him, fingernails scraping against the floor before you were clinging to him. He was moaning, low and breathless, the way he was moving causing you to helplessly spasm around him, forcing you violently over the edge when the base of him rubbed just right against your aching clit.
You could feel tears, beading at your lashline as the sensitivity became maddening, but he wasn’t letting up, even as you arched and bucked and wailed beneath him, the intensity of your climax rendering you incoherent. He knew exactly what he was doing, just how to push every button he needed to, and you were halfway between deliriously begging for more or sobbing at the sensitivity.
A string of curses left his lips as he came, gushing hot and thick inside of you, but he wasn’t even pausing, even as his groans tapered into breathy moans from the way he was overstimulating himself. You could feel him, throbbing, pulsing inside of you as he filled you, uncaring of the way his cum dripped out of you. The sound of it, combined with the slap of skin against skin, was unbelievably lewd, but you hardly had the wherewithal to even think, let alone be any kind of embarrassed. If anything, it only drove you higher.
“Fuck,” Wrothesley cursed, low and broken, “I need it again, please, again– fuck!”
He shifted back, grabbing at your legs and pressing them down beside you, and you thanked the Archons you were flexible as he continued, leaning forward once he had you in the position he liked and taking your body with abandon. He was hardly bothering to hold back his strength as he hammered into you, and your head fell back against the floor with a soft thud, eyes rolling back.
You’d never felt like this before in your life. Your legs were growing sore, and your back was going to be stiff from the way he was fucking you into the floor, but you didn’t care, not as you got to listen to the way he was saying your name like a prayer, how he was caressing and kissing your body like it was sacred. Exhaustion was a heavy weight against the blurred edges of your mind, and all you could do was lay there and take it as he chased after what he so desperately needed.
It didn’t take long for him to grow close again, and he whispered your name as his end quickly approached. You yanked him into a kiss, which he returned with a groan of ecstasy, and then, with a final, deep, shuddering thrust, he was cumming. The force of it made his entire body tremble, and the sound he made was one of satiated, relieved bliss as he emptied himself out inside of you, the heat of him almost suffocating, burning you from the inside out.
His hips jerked with unconscious movements and spasms as he drifted down from the staggering height of his climax, his breath heavy, and he slumped, weakened, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. His mouth pressed lazy kisses against your skin, and you lifted a hand to run it through his hair as he finally, finally began to grow soft inside of you.
The two of you lay there, still joined, for what felt like hours, bathing in each other’s warmth and the afterglow of it all. His breath fanned across your skin, feather soft as he lifted his head to join your lips together, before he slowly pulled out, rolling off of you, dazed.
“Are you hurt?” He asked, voice hoarse, and you arched your back, flexing your body. You winced at the soreness. You were undoubtedly going to have bruises from how hard he had been gripping you.
“I’m fine,” you said, “are you–”
He snorted.
“Yeah,” he said, “that uh… that did the trick.”
You laughed, a little breathlessly. You didn’t know how you’d be able to stand after that, genuinely. Your legs felt like jelly, and a deep, all consuming exhaustion was settling over your senses.
“You think it’s gone?” You asked, “the drug, I mean.”
He looked at you sidelong. “I don’t feel uncontrollably horny anymore, so I’d say so.”
Wriothesley sat up, flexing his shoulders. He tucked himself back into his pants, and then he was gathering you into his arms, rising to his feet.
“What are you doing?” You asked, and he raised an eyebrow at you.
“Taking you to the bath,” he said, “I have a bathtub, in my living quarters.”
You relaxed, settling into his arms. “Oh.”
His living quarters were attached to the office, through a door you’d somehow never noticed before. You were far too tired to take in any of the details of it, instead opting to close your eyes and rest your head on the nearest comfortable spot on Wriothesley’s chest, which he didn’t seem to mind at all.
He set you in the tub, and after the water was run, you were surprised to see him climbing in along with you. It wasn’t unwelcome, and seeing him completely bare was hardly a bad thing, and you were pleasantly happy when he began to gently wash you, and once he was finished, he tugged you back, settling you against his chest.
The bathroom was silent, save for the musical sound of running water, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes, settling into the comfortable atmosphere.
“I meant what I said, you know,” Wriothesley said, and you opened your eyes to look up at him.
“What?” You asked.
“About being fond of you,” he said, “you’re… an amazing woman. I want–”
You leaned up, kissing him, and effectively giving him an answer to his thoughts. He sighed into the kiss, content, one large hand rising to cup your face, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.
“I guess Siegwinne succeeded,” you said, and Wriothesley smiled, amused.
“I guess she did.”
You stayed in the bath much longer than you expected, until the water became cold, and once that happened, Wriothesley whisked you off to the bed, tucking you under the covers after supplying you with one of his shirts to wear. You smiled when he joined you, now dressed in a pair of sweats, chest left bare, and curled up beside you, tucking you close to his chest.
Sleep came quickly after the lights were switched off, the exhaustion from before spreading over you like wildfire.
And, when he thought you were asleep, you felt him, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his body relaxing against yours.
BONUS:
You were agonizingly sore. Your stiff muscles had stiff muscles, and while Wriothesley was sheepish, and apologetic, and promised he’d treat you to dinner to make it up (which you would be taking him up on), it made walking back to the infirmary the next morning a little difficult.
What was even worse was the look on Siegwinne’s face when you entered, ruby red eyes knowing as she watched you approach.
“How’s the duke?” She asked, and you handed her the accursed thermos without saying anything.
“Fine,” you said, slumping down into your chair with a sigh.
She smiled. “Good. Are you seeing him again tonight?”
You turned, brows furrowed. “How did you know about that?”
She shrugged, unbothered. “Someone saw you leaving his office this morning. I suppose what I put in the tea worked a little too well.”
You stared at her. “Siegwinne, you put an aphrodisiac in his tea.”
She paused, concerned. “No I didn’t. I put a supplement to further enhance his desire for you. If we’re being frank, it’s closer to a love potion. Just to get rid of any inhibitions. It’s medicine. But it isn’t meant to cause anything like–”
You rolled back your sore shoulders. “Yeah, well, it did.”
Her face went pale, but she briefly covered it up. “I… suppose I miscalculated.”
You laughed, then. Really laughed. It startled Siegwinne, who stared at you with growing concern.
“It’s fine,” you said, “whatever, Siegwinne. At least you don’t have to keep going with trying to set us up. Focus your energy on making ‘love potions’ that aren’t aphrodisiacs in humans, okay?”
She flushed, quiet, then nodded, once, her eyes taking on a determined look. You were beginning to regret saying anything.
With a smile, and a good natured nod, she put her hands on her hips, ever the dutiful nurse.
“I’ll get right on that.”
Fin.
#wriothesley#wriothesely x reader#wrio x reader#wriothesely genshin#wriothesely smut#n.sfw#genshin smut#genshin impact#genshin fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#female reader#reader insert#genshin x reader#genshin x you#don't let this flop#PLEASE#i am going to hell#my writing#genshin#x reader#fem reader#please show up in tags#genshin impact x reader#genshin fic#don’t let this flop
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Horror characters with an s/o who's love language is biting
So I'm sorry for barely posting anything in forever I've just been in a bit of a funk for awhile. Anyway @k1nn1e-0n-ma1n was super insistent I write this so shout out to him and his Bo Sinclair brain rot. This also was slightly inspired by @osirisisv RZ Michael Myers drawing.
Includes: Bo Sinclair, RZ Michael Myers, Otis Driftwood, and Doomhead
Warnings: Violence kind of, Bo and Otis being a perverts kind of
Bo Sinclair
Lester was a biter as a child and Bo has a very high pain tolerance so you biting him doesn't hurt it just surprises him. He honestly didn't know what you did until he looked over and saw you biting his hand.
"The fuck are ya doin'?" He'll ask verbatim. He's not mad, he's just confused as to why at 5:47 on a Tuesday during him watching reruns of some 80's show you decided to bite him.
When you say it's a love language he immediately thinks it's a sex thing. You will quickly shut that down and he'll get a little less excited.
"I still don't understand why ya did that darlin." He'll say before pulling you either on top of him or underneath him and just holding you so you can't bite him again.
On occasion he'll let you bite him again, but if you do it when he doesn't want you too he'll storm off to wherever and ignore you until you make it up to him.
RZ Michael Myers
He has a very high pain tolerance but when he feels you biting him he'll immediately push you off of him or put you in a headlock. He won't let you out either unless you beg him.
He is very confused as to why you bit him, because to his understanding you're not supposed to hurt the people you love.
He's going to probably disappear for a few days to think this over, and because he doesn't want you to bite him again for a little bit. But he'll come back more understanding.
You can bite him, but only when he's prepared and you're willing to 'play fight' because let's be honest, play fighting with Michael is basically him thinking he's playing and you fighting for you life. Could put you in head lock again.
He honestly might just roll up his sleeve and indirectly ask you to bite him. But this will happen after a lot of talking about how biting him means you're not trying to hurt him you just love him.
Otis Driftwood
"Did you just fucking bite me?" He asks you. And honestly no matter where you bite him it's a bad idea because he would taste like cigarettes, blood, and dirt.
Will be mad until you explain you do it because you love him and he'll laugh. Will also think it's a sex thing but you quickly shut that down. He's a little disappointed but doesn't mind too awfully much.
He doesn't mind as long as you give him a proper warning before you do it. If you catch him off guard he'll honestly pull his arm or whatever part of him you bit and leave you alone for a few hours at the least
Because he's a little freak he'll ask you to try and bite him harder than you normally do it to see how much pain he can handle. You can probably draw blood before he tells you to stop.
Overtime he learns to love it and honestly doesn't mind too much anymore. If a victim tries to or actually bites him he'll laugh and tell you about it later. "Don't worry honey, they weren't as good as you."
Doomhead
He’s not exactly lucid all the time so he might not realize you’re biting him at first. When he does realize it he pulls his hand away and laughs about it. "Do I taste good to you or something sweetheart?"
Will tease you about it non-stop. Brings it up all the time even if there's nothing to do with it currently. He'll have a hard time understanding that you're doing it "out of love".
He might honestly buy you a dog chew toy as a joke if you bite him often enough. Or like one of those baby teething toys. He will laugh so hard about it, especially if you get embarrassed about it.
That's not to say he doesn't like when you bite him. He can find the repetitive feeling calming and it honestly might make him feel more lucid at times. But he'd never ask you to do it. He might gives you hints though
#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x you#bo sinclair x y/n#michael myers x reader#michael myers x you#rz michael myers#otis driftwood x reader#otis driftwood#doomhead x reader#doomhead#slasher x y/n#slasher x reader#slasher fanfiction
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John Price finally getting Grumpy!Reader's engagement ring. He had measured your left ring ringer while you were sleeping (it was for a good cause) and he went to several jewelry stores to find the perfect engagement ring. It's everything you could ever want in an engagement ring, you'll love it and hopefully you'll say yes when he proposes.
But first, he has to ask for permission to marry you from your kid. After all, he's isn't just marrying you, he's officially becoming your kid's step-father (hopefully also adopted father if they want him to adopt them). So, he has to make sure they'd be okay with you two marrying.
If your kid's little, he's not too worried about them saying no. Especially since they've been calling him "Dad" so genuinely and have been so happy when he stays over. They tell him they want him in the house all the time, so he's almost certain that they'd give him permission to marry you.
Still, he crouches down to their height level to look them in the eye. "Hey, kiddo. You love I love your parent a lot, don't you?" he asks, easing them into their conversation. He smiles when they nod. "Sometimes, when people love each other so much, they get married. Which means that they're legally recognized as a couple and they move in together. And so I love your parent so much that I want to marry them, be officially a part of this family that we've created. You, them, me. The three of us together."
He lets the words sink in, lets your kid process what he said. "What do you say to that? You like that idea?"
Your kid thinks about it for a while before asking, "Would you adopt me?"
"If you'd like me to, kiddo. I'd be honored to adopt you," John says, smiling. His smile grows even wider when your kid says he can marry you and he picks them up, swinging them around and making them laugh. "I love you so much, kiddo. I'll love you and your parent for the rest of my life, I promise."
Now, if your kid's a teenager, then John's going to be very nervous because your kid honestly got your grumpiness (because they're a teenager and also because kids can emulate their parents a little) and so while he knows they tolerate him, he doesn't know if that's enough for them to be able to be okay with him marrying you. Liking your parent's partner is one thing, being okay with them integrating their life into yours is another.
"Hey, mate," John says to them when picking them up from school (or practice if they practice a sport, either way you're not available to pick them up). He waits until they're settled in the passenger's seat and he's driving home. "So you know how I love your parent and we've grown even closer over this past year?"
Your kid eyes him warily out of the corner of their eye before nodding. And then it dawns on them. "You want to marry them?"
John nods, his palms sweaty as he grips the steering wheel. "Yeah, I want to marry them. But only if you're okay with it."
"Why?" they ask, surprised at that answer. Apparently, they had been thinking John would just marry you without caring if they were okay with it or not. "You care about whether I'm comfortable with your guys' relationship?"
"Of course I care. You're their kid and... I've grown to think of you as my own too," John admits sheepishly. He makes a turn into the subdivision. "So yeah, I care about whether you're okay with us marrying or not. It's not just them and I, you're also being affected by this and I want us all to be a family."
They think on it for a while before smiling shyly. "I'm okay with you joining our family. I like having you around." They then glance at him, smirking. "But uh, you're going all the way with integrating into our family, alright? I'm getting adopted by you, that's my one condition."
John laughs, relaxing now that he's gotten their permission to marry you. He pulls his car into your driveway and parks. "It would be my honor to adopt you and officially call you my kid."
"Thanks, Dad."
Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)
#john price#captain john price#captain price#john price x male reader#john price x gender neutral reader#john price x reader#john price x female reader#captain john price x male reader#captain john price x gender neutral reader#captain john price x reader#captain john price x female reader#captain price x male reader#captain price x gender neutral reader#captain price x reader#captain price x female reader#call of duty#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod#desi!reader#grumpy!reader#just price asking for permission to marry you because he loves your kid#he wants to make sure your kid feels heard#:)
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I was thinking.....Satoru Gojo with an older brother reader.
KIND OF SECOND PART
Whether you were several years older than Satoru or just a year, as soon as he was born you were completely forgotten by the entire Gojo clan, of course, they kept you alive and continued to love you, but you were definitely no longer a priority at all unlike your younger brother born with the Six Eyes.
It hurts at first, but you quickly realize that it's actually not such a good thing to be your little brother. He is spoiled non-stop, yes, but even when he is just a baby, you see how the rest of the clans see him as a threat, a nuisance, something more than a someone.
and that hurts you even more.
so you decide to be a good older brother to Satoru, even if he has the world on his shoulders, you always try to let him be as much of a child as possible.whether it's spoiling him with candy, taking him out of training sessions, showing him Digimon games(he thanks You this FOR LIFE), etc.
and Satoru is no stranger to this.
everyone knows it, he is a spoiled child when it comes to his "big older brother" who, although weaker than him, definitely keeps very close while they grow up. Satoru is very grateful that you tried to give him a childhood even if it was not possible due to his context, you treated him with great affection that was different from the others, it was tender, sweet, genuine.
Thanks to this you always had more "control" over Satoru than everyone in the Gojo clan, either to make him behave or at least not make so many problems.
Satoru literally changed his face completely when it was YOU who spoke to him. Did you see that scene where he was walking through the city alone when he was a kid? You can bet you were looking for him for a solid half hour and when he saw you he said, "don't look at me weaklings" to "howdy Big bro :D" in seconds.
In general Satoru is very clingy with his older brother, if he has to go out with him, he is attached to his leg or his hand, on his shoulders, on a piggyback, etc. His personal favorite is when his brother carries him, with his arms around his neck and his legs curled up, he can even fall asleep like that.
and rest assured that Satoru fiercely protects his older brother, even if he is not weak, the difference in power between the two is overwhelming, so Satoru will not hesitate to go on the defensive for his brother. not only in battle, but also against ignorant people who try to harm him in some way, be it tarnishing his reputation, making him feel less than, any of those things are a great offense in Satoru's eyes, he is not going to tolerate it.
He only becomes more attached to his brother as he grows up, if you have a girlfriend/boyfriend, Satoru will be judging them non-stop, for him no one is worthy of his brother, but if they make you happy, he is happy, but they would have to meet a minimum number of requirements to enter the family (even the Gojo Clan backs him up with this).
Satoru greatly appreciates his brother's ideology now that he is in Jujutsu Tech, now that he believes he understands better what it means to be the strongest. but when reality hits him with what happened with Geto and Amanai, his brother is the first to console him, even thinking that he has failed them in some way, because HE is supposed to be the older brother who protects the younger one, and that he cannot that he was completely young, he feels that he completely failed Satoru. that he has been a bad brother.
and Satoru will not listen to this nonsense.
Satoru refuses to let you put yourself down and your efforts to take care of him, to avoid all this, you are the best brother he could ask for. the only.
(imagine his reaction when he found out that Satoru had impulsively adopted a child from someone who almost killed him and he KILLED on top of it)
Both brothers mature as the years go by, you may even have your own family (with someone you love who miraculously passed the requirements of the Gojo and Satoru) and if you have children, damn, Satoru would spoil them SOOOOO much, he's the quintessential funny uncle(and handsome, he says)
Gojo's coworkers don't understand, how the hell does someone like Gojo of all people have a sweet, thoughtful family man as a brother? It is a mystery to everyone.
Satoru would be somewhat calmer if his brother decides not to continue being a sorcerer, but if he continues to be a sorcerer, he will definitely make him go on all his missions with him, his brother is not like him and he knows it, they both have the same ideas, they hate the ones in charge, and they REFUSE to let these kids' youth be stolen-
but Satoru does not have a family to return to, Satoru does not have a home with people who depend on him in a genuine and loving way, his brother does. but the higher ups wouldn't be bothered if he died simply because it's not him
For the same reason, Satoru Gojo will protect the weak even if it seems exhausting, he will save the world if necessary, because also in this world is his brother,and also the world that his brother wants to protect is only the most precious thing to him, who is only half of his.
_____
Shares, reblogs, and comments are very welcome!
#jjk#male reader#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu no kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#platonic gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#platonic
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Fortunate Ones
BAKUGOU X READER
Mentions: Corrupt Government, Quirkless, Injections, Pregnancy, Dad Bakugou, Fluff!
reblogs are appreciated! <3
There was a point in time where life was happy for everyone. Then one day things changed.
Those with Quirks lived a better life. Good homes, good environment, upperhand on job opportunities. Quirkless born have it rough. A child should have their quirk by the age of 5 and if not the government will give the child another year just in case they’re late bloomers. If no quirk is developed by the age of 6 they’re separated from their parents and put into the quirkless side of town, Although they are allowed to travel anywhere.They get paired with a good family. They’re not allowed to have any contact with their old family.
You grew up with Bakugou and Izuku. Yeah Bakugou was an asshole but you still followed behind him just as everyone else did. You and Deku had each other. Yes you were parted from your birth parents but the ones you were given too were great. They love you like their own. Deku went through the same thing which is why you guys are understanding each other. You thought you’d be with Izuku forever as besties and have a possibility to end up with Bakugou.
Izuku never told either of you about training with All Might. He couldn’t. He didn’t even tell you about getting into U.A. You thought you'd be going to school. You knew Bakugou got in and it hurt you like hell. Parting ways with someone you fell in love with. “ Since when do you have a quirk!?” You yelled at Izuku. “You’re a piece of shit for not telling her sooner.” Bakugou said. “ It’s not what you think,”Izuku said. He wanted to stay with his best friend. He wished the three of you could attend the best hero school there is. He cared more about being a hero. “ I can’t believe it. How..just have fun with your quirk Izuku. Bakugou have fun as well. I guess this is it…” you say tears running down your face. “Who knows…maybe we can meet up one day or whatever.” He said handing you a piece of paper with his number on it. You smiled. “Y-Yeah..thanks. I’ll miss you guys more than anything.” you said. Bakugou hated it when he was forced into a group hug. He hates physical contact but tolerated it for you. He’s always had a soft side, though he's a total asshole.
Everyone went their separate ways. You didn’t stay in contact with Izuku. He’s “too busy.” when in reality he didn't make time. He cared more about being a hero. Bakugou is very serious about it too but he tried and did make time even if it was talking on the phone or meeting up in the city going to places where Quirkless people were allowed in. Sometimes he’d even facetime with you at night even after a long and tiring day. Yes he’d knock out mid way with you but he made the time and it made you happy.
As time went on Bakugou developed feelings towards you and finally confessed after becoming a hero and you two Immediately started dating. During the ending of highschool there was a bill being set. Quirkless people were not allowed to house with a quirk user unless married. Then 2 years later the bill passed.
“We could always lie. We don’t have to worry about it. Let me handle it.” Bakugou said, holding you close. You were both 20 and ready to move out. Bakugou was making a great amount of money from being a hero even though he's young. You were in your 3rd year in college studying for business management and English language. You had a small business. It’s going very well. You always have orders coming in. “We can’t lie about it,Kats. If they find out then what?” you asked. “We’ll make it happen eventually.” he replied, pecking your cheek. You nodded slightly. It was your plan with him. Him becoming a hero, you finishing school and starting your small business then soon enough live together. You continued your homework. Thank god you’re the smartest in all your class and gained trust from your teachers. They’d give great recommendations for when you need a job.
“Hey mom. I brought her to meet you. You’ll love her.” Katsuki said. He brought you into the living room. “Really!? All this time?” Mitsuki said, giving you a big hug. You returned it. She’s known you since a kid; she just never thought you’d end up dating her son. “You should’ve told me since you started dating her. Why did you keep it a secret for so long?” She asked, letting me go. “I told him I wasn’t ready not until I was almost done with university.” You answered. “We were planning to move in together but…the new bill was placed..” he said gripping your hand lightly. Mitsuki knows how much he loves you because when you and Bakugou started she noticed how much he started changing and in a great way. “You two are young. Still in the beginning of the new chapter. Us parents will be here to support you both.” Mitsuki said.
When you and Katsuki turned 21 he proposed to you. While you were at work he decorated the dining room with candles and roses.(he lived on his own.) He made your favorite meal. The lights were dimmed. “Hey Kats. I'm here. What did you need help with?” you asked as you took off your heels. “Yeah I'm in the dining room,” he replied. You went over and blushed as you saw the lovely decorated table. You both enjoyed the food. You talked and laughed. “You’re such a romantic, it's cute. Thank you for this.” You said smiling. “I have one more surprise.” He walked over to you.” he replied and made you stand up. “ Where are you taking me?” you asked. “No No, just stand there okay. Close your eyes, loser.” he replied. You obeyed him. Bakugou took out the ring and got down on one knee. “Open.” he ordered. When you saw him your heart was racing. “Y/n I'm in love with you and you know that. You give me everything you have to offer. You always express your love to me. Make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.” He asked. You nodded as you started crying with him. He slipped the ring on your finger. When the wedding happened a year later you both were so happy, loved and fortunate, very very fortunate.
You must be wondering why? Well thank god you and Bakugou decided to try for a baby during the honeymoon and it happened. You were blessed twins, baby boys. During the time you were 7 months the government released the news about planning on injecting half of the quirkless females. An injection to stop them from reproducing. You had your babies and after you got approval from the doctor to have another child. You and Bakugou got to work. It was hard to take care of the twins while pregnant but you and Bakugou want a little tribe.
“ Morning my wonderful boys.” Bakugou said to the twins who were awake and ready for their bottles. He carried both of them and got comfortable on the couch he fed both of them. Struggled but fed them. You were still asleep. He makes sure you get proper rest which is why he took time off work. To help you around the house another set of twins are on the way. You woke up around 9:30 am“Kats?Kousuke?Kensuke?” You called. “In the bathroom babe!” Bakugou said. He was giving the twins their baths. Kensuke was the calm one and Kousuke…sweet lord he’s the wild one. You walked in and saw Bakugou’s shirt all wet. The boys cooed and kicked as Bakugou made silly faces. Kousuke splashed water as Bakugou lifted him to scrub his back. “Let me help kats.” you said with a smile. It took about a good 30 minutes to bath them and have them all set .
You had a small and cute gender reveal only you,bakugou, his parents, yours and your 2 siblings. It was inside the second nursery. Your sister knows the genders so she planned it. “You guys ready?” Mitsuki recorded. You and Bakugou took a deep breath and then let go as you both opened the closet. Half of it was filled with boy clothes and the other with girl clothes. You shared a kiss with Bakugou. Everyone clapped. “ I love you and our babies.” Bakugou said as he rubbed your bump. “ We love you too, loser.” you replied. Months later you pushed your beautiful babies out.
You guys want a K family and you also wanted to have one more pregnancy. Hopefully you’re not one of the chosen quirkless females for the injection and lucky for guys you werent. By the time you and Bakugou were 26 you had 6 kids.
Kids' names. K family. Eldest to youngest.
Kousuke Bakugou(m)
Kensuke Bakugou (m)
Kyousuke Bakugou (m)
Kimiko Bakugou (f)
Kaoru Bakugou (f)
Kaisei Bakugou (m)
You changed the kids out of their pjs and into cute clothes. Your mother made a family gathering. Bakugou hugged you from behind then nibbled on your ear whispering, “We should have one more, don't you think my sexy girl.” Your eyes widened when you felt his bulge. “ Go fix your problem in our room.” you said. “ Come on one more?” he begged, leaving a hickey on your neck. You saw the kids fall asleep as you packed up their diaper bags. “ Katsuki Bakugou no.” you replied. His hands roamed your body. When he got to your breasts you moaned as he pinched your nipples,you felt your milk leak a bit. “ one more.” he whispered in your ear and then licked your neck. “Fuck it.” you gave in. He was about to carry you away until baby Kaisei started crying. Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Mommys boy for sure,” he said. You smacked him then carried Kaisei, rocking him in your arms. Bakugou looked at him playing with his little hand. Kaisei wrapped his hand around Bakugou’s finger and gripped it. When the kids do that to him he always ends up crying. You never knew why but he always smiles and pecks their hands in the process.
The best part of it all is that your children grew up with quirks. When they got their quirks you and Bakugou were blessed. Blessed to be able to stay with your family.
You both were blessed by God to keep your loving family.
#fanfiction#fanfic#bakugo katuski#bnha bakugou#bnha katsuki#katsuki bakugou#katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#mha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugo x reader#mha bakugō#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo mha#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki#bakugo#bnha kacchan#bnha#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x reader#bnha x y/n#bnha x you#bakugou x y/n#bnha bakugo x reader#katsuki x you#anime#katsuki x y/n#my hero x reader
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Forget jealous Paige, how do we think poor KK's dealing with the fact that her father and sister were literally vibing to her song WITHOUT her 😭
Alright unserious unedited chaotic family drabble because I feel like procrastinating. Like I'm not even joking this is the most random thing I've ever written so read at your own discretion:
It's way too early in the morning when Paige's phone rings, making both her and Ice groan.
"KK what the fuck," Paige asks groggily, wiping at bleary eyes as a furious KK's face fills her phone screen.
"You said you didn't have a favorite child. LIAR," KK yells.
"Oh my god KK," Ice whines from across the room, "please shut the fuck up. My head is pounding."
"GOOD! TO MY SONG?" KK pays no attention, still as loud as ever, "HOW COULD YOU? BOTH OF YOU FUCKING TRAITORS."
"Bro you knew we were going," Paige sighs, sitting up properly.
"That's not the point. You know what give me one second. AZZI. AZZI. AZZI," and then KK's off running, blurry on Paige's screen as she yells for Azzi.
"Oh my god what? What?" Azzi's concerned voice comes through the phone, a smile replacing her frown when KK thrusts the phone in her face, "oh, hi P!"
Before a now grinning Paige can reply, KK cuts her off, "no! Don't hi P her. Did you see Ice's live? They been having the time of our lives without us. THEY WERE VIBING TO MY SONG. MY SONG AZZI!"
"Uh they're quite literally there to get drunk and party, we knew this," Azzi says, trying to hide a smile.
"Again not the point," KK sighs exasperatedly.
"What is the point KK," Paige asks with a tired yawn, "get to it then."
"The point is that you two are getting divorced and I'm finding myself a new stepfather. I will not be tolerating this disrespect," KK says firmly.
"Excuse me," Paige says shrilly, "I do not agree to a divorce."
"You don't have to. Mothers do what's best for their children and Azzi's gonna do what's best for me. Right Azzi?" KK glares at Azzi who sighs exasperatedly.
"You're both aware that you're not actually my husband and child right?"
"Excuse you," Paige screeches at the same time as KK gasps dramatically and Azzi has to mentally prevent herself from sighing again.
"Okay alright, divorce yes okay," Azzi gives in, KK squeals and this time Paige is glaring.
"Wow. It's that easy huh? Guess all of those years meant nothing to you."
Azzi shakes her head, trying to hide her smile at Paige's mock offense.
"And now to find a stepfather," KK says triumphantly and then her eyes light up with a glint as a blonde walks in, "KATE!"
Kate looks like a deer caught in the headlight as she walks cautiously towards an over-excited KK and a slightly mortified Azzi, "uhhh hi?"
"I have a very important question for you Kate," KK says with all the seriousness of the world, "are you married?"
"Uh....no?" Kate answers, confused at that line of questioning, as Azzi hides her face in her palms.
"KK what the fuck are you doing?" Paige yells at her phone, suddenly very unamused by this whole thing.
"Ssssh P-boogers, I'm about to perform a wedding."
"Umm what?" poor Kate asks, looking at Azzi for help, not used to the insanity that is the UConn women's team. To be honest, she's not fully sure if all of this is a joke.
"You and Azzi are getting married and then you're going to adopt me," KK says firmly.
"I swear we're normal people....most of the time," Azzi tries to reassure Kate.
"Dearly beloved, or unbeloved since it's Paige and Ice, I guess, we are here today to marry these two women," KK begins and then looks at Azzi and Kate who are standing a feet apart, "uh hello? You have to hold hands."
Paige splutters, "Martin I don't know you that well but if you hold her hand I swear to God."
"Oh calm down ex-father," KK fires back, "let me get my new parents married in peace. Now since there are no objections-"
"I OBJECT," Paige yells, turning to a sleeping Ice who's trying to block out the noise using a pillow, "ICE your mother is getting married to someone else, get the fuck up and come here and object with me."
"Your objections don't count because you're liars and traitors. MY SONG. MY FUCKING SONG."
"Bro you're all I was thinking about I swear," Paige pleads, "after every Bow, I was like oh my god KK would have loved this. I missed you every second I'm sorry."
"Sorry is not good enough," KK says petulantly.
"I got you a signed autograph. It was gonna be a surprise but you need to know. I swear KK, I would have had so much more fun if it was with you bro. It just wasn't the same."
"Oh that makes me feel great. Thanks Paige." Ice mumbles from under the sheets.
"ONE MAD CHILD AT A TIME THANK YOU," Paige says exasperatedly.
KK contemplates Paige's words for a moment before turning to Kate.
"I'm sorry Kate. It looks like this wedding can't go on. It's not you. It's us. Hope you understand," she says with a solemn expression, "but I already have a father and she's great. A little stupid sometimes but great."
Kate nods dumbstruck, unsure what had just happened in the last couple of minutes but she's pretty sure she's just been dismissed.
"FATHER," KK yells turns her face back to her phone, "I missed you. Let's never fight again. That was the worst 10 minutes of my life."
"SON SON," Paige shouts with glee, "let's never do that again."
Azzi pinches the bridge of her nose, wondering how she'd let this become her life.
"If the two of you are done, can I go back to rehab now?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.
Paige narrows her eyes at Azzi through the phone, "were you about to get married to someone else?"
Oh boy here we go again
#paige bueckers#azzi fudd#kk arnold#ice brady#kate martin#this is literally the most unserious thing ever like idek what was going through my brain#inspired by all the unseriousness from the weekend i gues#wcbb
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Solar return observations pt. 1 ✨
‼️ Do not reproduce, repost or use any of my content without my consent. If you ever repost anything, you need to always mention my page ‼️
Hey guys! I hope you've been having a great christmas time! I'm starting a new little series, bc honestly, i haven't been observing anything new when it comes to birth charts lately, but i've really been into solar return charts, which is why i really wanted to make this. As you might have seen, i had already posted another observation which included some observations on solar return charts, which i deleted bc some of the things i shared didn't resonate with me and i only want to give you content i can truly stand behind. But i am mentioning this, bc i'm going to include some of the solar return observations i made in this post, so don't be confused if you think you might've already seen this on one of my posts.
If you do not know about solar return charts, i would recommend you to look it up beforehand. I am not the best at explaining this kind of stuff, but there are other astrology pages who have amazing introductions for people who are getring into solar return charts. Please look them up and then come back to this!!
Before we start: these are just my personal observations. I am by no means a professional astrologer, and i don't want you coming for me because you disagree with me on the meaning of something. If you want to correct me, feel free, but i will not tolerate any hate or disrespect (which means you will get blocked).
‼️Trigger warning: mentions of bad relationship experiences, bullying and mental health struggles ‼️
Sooo let's go!
Jupiter in the 8th house conjunct neptune in 7th house: Altough of course this can show different in every persons life, for me in the year i had this placement i didn't meat my rich husband who was my wonderful soulmate. Instead i only dated one guy who in the beginning seemed very great but turned out to just be using me for intercourse In general the guys i've met who were interested in me seemed quite stable and good people, but turned out to actualy be known by close ones as f-boys. So if you have this placement in your solar return chart, please beware. It might look better than it is, as neptune is also about illusions and in the 7th house of relationships, this can mean you might not see who the person truly is, and with jupiter ok the 8th house, it could be because they might be using you for sexual endevours, or you might be more into sexual endavours than usual and thus might yourself give another person the illusion you might be into more to get access in that way (which: please don't do that. there is people out there who are willing to give you that without you having to betray them. it's not fair to someone who is trying to actually build a relationship).
Neptune conjunct the Descendant with Chiron in the 7th house: Adding to the last observation: the year i started dating my first boyfriend who was very toxic and completely used and betrayed me was the year i had neptune, the planet of illusion in a very hard conjunction to my descendant. Also, like chiron (the wound we cannot heal but which can heal others) would indicate sent me into quite a mental health crisis, which i didn't even realize until about 2 years later. it really messed with me, so please be careful if you have this placement. i still learned a lot about relationships, and i feel like i now would never again get into a relationship without being 100 percent certain about the persons intentions and so on.
Saturn, Pluto and Uranus in the 4th house: Whilst Pluto and (especially) Uranus can totally mean you moving because they are very much about change, i wouldn't say the same about saturn in the 4th house. Saturn is usually more about restrictions and difficulties because of that. Of course there could be difficulties with your landlord for example, which might cause you to move, but otherwise, i think saturn here is more about not being able to move freely in your home or you feeling bound to your home for some reason. This can of course vary in interpretation depending on other aspects and planets, it could also be about problems with you family. It very much depends.
North node conjunct uranus in any house: Whatever house this placement is in, you might experience some significant change in the area or might learn something about this area of your life which will change it significantly. For example, a friend of mine had this in his 7th house and during that year, after a lots of years of being in an polyamorous relationship, they went back to a monogamous relationship because some things had appendd which made them realize for them to keep on having a healthy relationship, a monogamous relationship might be better. I also had this placement in my ninth house and during this year some things happened which significantly altered the way i handle my studies in college.
Stellium in 12th house (with sun and moon): You might be going through a phase where you are in more solitute and a lot of things you didn't know about will come to light. I am currently experiencing this, and i could totally feel the shift. I feel it kind of was like my last solar reutrn year i had so many experiences with traveling and meeting new people, that i kind of feel like an "experience fatigue". it felt like i was making so many new experiences, and focused on making more and so on, that i forgot to put meaning and intention behind those. So now i just want to slow down and still make experiences, but also focus on my inner world, on learning new things about myself and also work on some mental health stuff. also, i feel like there has been a lot going on behind the scenes on how people view or say about me which i don't or didn't know about, like for example one year a go, a comment i made on youtube got about 6000 likes and people were bashing me so hard in the comments and i didn't even notice until now 😭 idk, i hope whatever is going to be revealed isn't too harsh (the comments were bad but honestly, i didn't mind. it's not the first time i've gotten hate on social media lol). the 12th house is generally not considered to be very positive, but for now i feel like it is mostly about me time and discovering new things about myself.
Sun square pluto: I read something on the tumblr page "lavishlyleo" about this placement being a very difficult placement which can last for a looong time, and i looked it up: i've had this placement since i was about 14 years old. now, i've had quite a rough childhood, but me having to deal with that and having to process it and simultaniously starting to experience more bullying and so on started about this time. i think beforehand i knew my life wasn't the greatest, but i could still move through it and be very happy and content because i had a great friend group and a lot of other good stuff going on. the fact of me having to realized how the things i have gone through were so fucked up and how they messed with me was soo much harder tbh. but now this placement has been easing up a bit and will go away in about two years and i have honestly been doing so much better that the years beforhand, especially when it comes to my social life! i am so excited on seeing how life will be as soon ad this placement finally goes away.
Chiron or lilith in the 11th house: As these two are more harsh and about experiencing some bad stuff to also learn and develope, having this in the 11th house may not be a good sing of you keeping your friend group because and maybe losing those. Or in general just having bad experiences with groups of people.
I will leave you with this now. As the year progresses, i will see how certain placements play out in my and other peoples life, so i can give you some more observations i made. But i hope you enjoyed this!
Sending out love and please keep safe! Until next time byebye 🩵
#solar return#solar return chart#astro observations#astro community#astroblr#jupiter in the 8th house#neptune in the 7th house#neptune conjunct descendant#chiron in the 7th house#saturn in the 4th house#uranus in the 4th house#pluto in the 4th house#north node conjunct uranus#stellium in the 12th house#sun square pluto#chiron in the 11th house#lilith in the 11th house
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“ Sneak out and come watch the stars with me. ” this gives me such Steve vibes. maybe something cute and romantic? I’m in my feels hahaha
thanks for your request, angel! please enjoy xoxo — steve takes his bad-at-feelings gf on a romantic outing. it goes exactly how he expected. (mean-ish!reader, fluff, 1.8k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
The forest behind the suburbs of Maple Street is sparse and full of green. Illuminated by a blue moon and blinking yellow fireflies, Steve holds your hand and leads you through thin trees and tall grass.
You follow behind him and try hopelessly to keep up with his longer strides. A cat-like grin pulls at your mouth as you joke, “You know, when you said you wanted to sneak out and watch the stars, I thought that was a euphemism for something.”
Steve looks over his shoulder at you. His honey eyes squint as he flashes you a lopsided smile. “Is that really how low you think of me, sweetheart?”
“I just forget how much of a romantic you are sometimes.”
Your sneakers scuff against the dirt when Steve stops suddenly in front of you. He takes a step closer, smoothing his broad hands up your bare arms. His sparkling touch leaves prickling goosebumps on your skin. He stops at the sleeves of your t-shirt, long fingers warm where they sprawl below your shoulders.
“That’s exactly why I have to remind you then, huh?” he singsongs, bending softly at the waist to kiss you.
You’re too busy rolling your eyes at his cheesy remark to meet him halfway. His plush lips brush the very corner of your mouth.
A couple more steps, and the woods break off into a clearing. A black lake sits in the middle of it all, sparkling under neon moonlight. The other side is lined with thicker trees in a more velvet shade of green. It’s lush, filled with the buzzing sounds of nightlife, and smelling heavily of summertime.
It’s the kind of beauty that takes your breath away. Sort of like the pretty boy beside you.
Steve catches you staring, and you cower. You purse your quiet smile to the side of your mouth when he flashes you a similar grin. Your eyes narrow accusingly, “How did you know this was back here?”
The boy’s beam ebbs instantaneously, mourning the fleeting moment of pure adoration. His fingers wrap gently around your wrist, tugging you closer to the clearing. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just sit, yeah?”
Before you can complain about your good jeans getting dirty, he strips himself of his summer jacket and spreads it on the grassy bank below you. He shoots you a knowing look in the meanwhile — full of twinkling eyes and quirked lips — as though anticipating your protest. You meet it with a halfhearted glower.
“How many times did you come out here with Nancy Wheeler, then, huh?” you tease as you descend onto the polyester fabric.
Steve huffs when he plops down beside you. “You’re an absolute glutton for punishment, you know that?”
“I just like making fun of you—”
“Of course you do.”
“—And also, I think it’s really funny you took me to a spot you used to take your ex,” you conclude with a giggle sputtering from your mouth. Your laugh is high and airy, like it’s actually funny to you and not a confession of misplaced jealousy.
It’s the only reason Steve smiles softly back at you. “Shut up,” he grouses quietly despite his grin. “I just wanted to get out of that house, alright? It was getting way too loud in there.”
The Wheeler’s were having a weekend get-together. There was no real occasion for it other than the want to decorate their big house and bigger backyard for the summer season. You figured that was the sort of thing rich people did whenever they got bored.
The afternoon was pretty tolerable, but the kids only seemed to get more wired as the night progressed. You could only tolerate the yelling in Mike Wheeler’s basement for so long.
“We can’t stay gone for too long,” you tell him as you settle into his side.
Steve wraps an arm around your shoulder to press you further into him. The side of your arm rests against his ribs. His cologne embraces you the same way he does, engulfing you with its clean musky scent.
The boy laughs. “Why? ‘Cause everyone will think we’re screwing?”
“No,” you drawl with your own breathy giggle. “Because I promised Holly we’d do your makeup before bedtime.”
A beat passes. You tilt your chin to stare up at the boy beside you. You met his deadpanned expression with a mischievous grin.
“No, you didn’t,” he challenges with narrowed honey eyes.
“I absolutely did— right after I promised we’d play Princess and Dragons with her, actually.”
Steve’s brows pinch. “Since when do dragons wear makeup?”
“…You’re the princess, Stevie.”
“Right,” he concedes, licking his lips and trying his best to feign annoyance. He’s too full of adoration for you not to smile, though. His pink lips quirk in a crooked smirk as he shakes his head at you. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that?”
“Oh,” you hum. “You love me, huh?”
That phrase was a new one. Well, between the two of you, anyway.
You’d said it first — blurted it, really — at breakfast a few mornings ago. Steve griped that you beat him to the punch, right before he said it back to you. He said he’d wanted to say it for a while but could never find the courage to. You haven’t quite let him live it down.
“Unfortunately,” he grumbles.
“Well, that just sucks for you.”
“Does it now?”
“Mhmm,” you answer wordlessly as you lean in closer to him, your mouths mere inches apart. You can smell Coca-Cola and chocolate ice cream on his breath when it entwines with your own.
“And why’s that?”
You grin when your noses brush together. “‘Cause I love you back.”
“God,” he grimaces quietly. “That’s disgusting.”
You nod. The tip of your nose brushes the structured bridge of his. “Absolutely repulsive.”
Your lips lock hardly a second later. His plush pink ones press against your own in a lingering peck.
You didn’t know how much you missed the feel of him until now. You hadn’t felt so starved for him all day, but now that you finally have him against your mouth, you feel like he’s bringing your withering figure back to life.
You sigh against him. You feel the smile on his mouth at the feeling of the heavy breath fanning over his cupid’s bow. Steve pulls back, then kisses you deeper. His plush lips part to open yours. His tongue slips between them, warm and wet. The irregular pattern of the pink muscle juts against your own.
You vaguely feel his hand curl around the back of your neck before you feel the dewy grass pressing against your back.
A soft gasp is inhaled through your nose when the boy unexpectedly lays you back. Your eyes flutter open while your lips continue to be so ardently kissed. You squirm at the feeling of your shirt dampening and wonder if the icky feeling is worth being so close to him.
Before you can answer, you gasp again. This time through your mouth.
Steve pulls back, frightened that he’s hurt you. His wide chocolate eyes dart over your face, checking for any sign that something might be wrong. “What? What happened?”
“It’s Hercules!” you answer.
His brows furrow. “It’s what?”
“Hercules! The constellation! You can only see it in the summertime—” you explain, pushing your hands against the boy’s shoulders. “—Get off!”
Steve huffs and rolls onto his back, propping himself on his elbows. You rise once more with your chin pointed towards the black sky. You spare him a brief glance. A smile pulls softly at the corners of your mouth when you see the boyish pout on his face.
“You’re the one that wanted to watch the stars, remember?” you remind him.
“I wanted to watch you under the stars,” he corrects in a monotone. “That’s totally different.”
“Just c’mere and look.”
He sighs but abides you anyway. When he sits up beside you again, you reach over his lap for his left hand. You rest your pointer finger next to his and trace the blinking constellation along the velvet blue sky. “These are the legs, see?”
Steve squints. “Sorta…”
“It’s kinda like he’s running, right? And those are the arms.”
A beat passes. The boy’s puzzled gaze flits between you and the night sky. “…Is that it?”
You squint at him. “What do you mean, is that it?”
“He has no head,” he explains as if you haven’t noticed.
“…Okay?”
“How can it be Hercules if he doesn’t have a head?” the boy scoffs like it’s some unsolved travesty.
“Because it’s a constellation, Steve,” you giggle.
“Well, it looks a lot more like a crab than a Hercules, babe.”
“There’s already a crab constellation. It’s Cancer.”
Steve shrugs, pink lips jutted softly out. “Well, they got it all backwards.”
“I’ll let Ptolemy know,” you quip with the loving roll of your eyes.
“Who?”
“Ptolemy. The astronomer,” you answer in a monotone. You’re met with a pretty face contorted in confusion. “Did you not learn anything in science class?”
Steve thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “Nope.”
You laugh at the honesty of his answer. “We literally had Ms. Cook’s together. Twice. Astronomy One and Two.”
“I only took those classes ‘cause I knew you’d be in them,” the boy scoffs.
“Shut up…”
“I’m serious— well, Astro One, I just got lucky. But then, senior year, I dropped chemistry for Astro Two so I could spend my last semester with you.”
Your heart swells at his words, warmed by the thought that he’s been whipped for you just as long as you’ve been for him.
You’ve never felt truly worthy of his love. Not now. Not ever.
Girls like you aren’t supposed to end up with guys like Steve.
Of everyone he could’ve chosen, he chose you — the girl who finds affection close to impossible basically all the time. The girl who throws out mindless insults easier than I love you’s. But he loved you, anyway.
Of everyone else — it was you.
“Is that why you spent five months sitting behind me and annoying the absolute shit outta me?” you joke instead of telling him you love him so much you could cry.
“I prefer the phrase wooing the shit outta you,” Steve corrects with his head tilted to his shoulder. “But, sure. Yeah.”
You shake your head with a fond smile hinting at your lips. “You’re disgusting…”
“Well, it worked,” he counters, a proud grin on his face. “Here we are, two years later, watching the stars while you lecture me about Pa-moley or whoever the fuck.”
“Ptolemy,” you correct, smiling just as wide as he is.
“Right,” he hums back. His chocolate eyes sparkle when he looks at you, twinkling with stars and adoration. “I can’t imagine being out here and getting smart-mouthed by anyone else.”
Through burning cheeks, you quip “That’s because no one else can do it as well as I can.”
Steve beams. “Exactly.”
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#st drabbles#stevie drabble#bug's summer fic fest!
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Pairing: Song Mingi x afab reader
Word Count: 3800
Warnings: cursing, smut, one night stand
Genre: enemies to lovers, one night stand
Summary: Public parties weren't your thing but for your best friend you could tolerate a dance club- even go home with someone for the night. Mingi was determined to make sure that was him, and after a little push from a hot stranger, you decided just for tonight you would give him a shot.
A/N: This was my third attempt, as I first tried a mingi/yeosang x reader enemies to lovers but i adore them as sweet beans too much so i stuck with the best puppy boy- Song Mingi. This is for you @mingsolo as you were right to put me on the suspect list as your secret admirer lol. Please melt like I did <3 Thanks!!!
This was done as a network event for @pirateeznet
People do anything for their best friends, including putting up with their boyfriend’s douchebag friends. You swore up and down that you were going to have a good time tonight even if that meant being nice to the other half of the partygoers.
It was your best friend’s birthday, and of course she wanted to spend it with her boyfriend of a year now, Wooyoung. Both of them were hyper and outgoing, and so into each other it was almost nauseating. You were what she called the scary dog friend with resting bitch face until you liked someone. That was all you were to Wooyoung’s friends, but he still wanted you there at the party he planned.
Party at a dance club, which also wasn’t your thing- but it was hers. You did your best to make the most of it however, dressed to the nines and intent of having a good night. If that meant getting somewhat wasted and fucking a stranger then so be it.
Now if only the thorn in your side, Song Mingi, would let you do just that. Your friend would swear up and down that he was a good guy, that he was sweet, but considering your few interactions with him, his very presence left a bad taste in your mouth. And by the sneers he often gave you, the feeling was mutual. Somehow, for some reason, he had made it his mission to see your plan for the night fail.
Every man you found yourself dancing with or flirting with, Mingi was right there, butting his nose in and saying something that would scare the man off. Weird habits, or just spouting some obscene lie about you that had the man running off.
Three or four drinks in, and quite the cutie was chatting it up with you at the bar. Slight aussie accent, tattoos, open shirt- you were more than a little interested. But of course the tall man in his red cap slipped into the seat next to you, leaning in a bit closer and grabbing your drink out of your hands. Shocked, you watched him sniff your drink before taking a sip, your jaw dropping. “Mingi!”
“That’s my name.” Licking his lips he handed you back the drink, giving the man in front of you side eye. “Newest conquest?”
Scoffing, you pushed him away. “Seriously? Can I not have a chat with a hot guy in peace? Is it really your intent to ruin my night?” You offered the tatted dreamboat a smile, hoping he wouldn’t run off like the rest. “Sorry about him, he’s a friend of a friend please don’t pay him no mind.”
He and Mingi seemed to look each other over before he got comfortable again, pointing to your glass. “Let me get you a new one then and we can continue our conversation? Or we can talk about your ‘hot guy’ comment?” With a smirk he waved the bartender over, leaving you a little flustered. You had said that in the moment, too heated about Mingi’s constant interruptions.
Apparently it worked in your favor as you handed your current drink over to Mingi. “You can have this now. Go away.” You attempted to shoo him but he didn’t budge, instead pouting out his thick bottom lip and watching you from under the cap. “What?”
“You really are insisting on this?” He muttered out while the other was busy with the bartender.
You didn’t get why he was being pouty about this, every time the two of you interacted it became some playful and childish argument. You couldn’t think of any reason why he would have any interest in you. And your only interest in him had been that he was attractive. Sharp eyes, pouty lips, deep voice… You shook your head and sneered your upper lip at him. “What I do is none of your business Mingi. Why don’t you go find someone to take home for tonight?”
Mingi stared you down, lips parting and shutting several times before he sighed and looked away.
“I mean, I can always leave you two alone?” The aussie accent drew your attention back to the hottie that was your target. “This doesn’t exactly look like just a friend of a friend.” He still offered the new drink and you took it, downing it rather quickly.
“That’s all he is. But if he keeps this up he’s going to be a thorn in my side as well.” You made an effort to avoid Mingi now, leaning against the bar top and towards the man that really was drool worthy. Why hadn’t he run off yet? With Mingi acting like this?
Instead he laughed, watching Mingi sulk off over the brim of his own drink. “I think you hurt his feelings.”
“So? He’s trying to ruin my night.”
“Or make it a good one for you?”
“And how would he be doing that if he is chasing off, on purpose, any guy I have even a little bit of interest in, hm?” You rolled your eyes before finishing the last bit of your drink, the buzz going right to your head. Mingi’s constant interference had sobered you up on more than one occasion, and the little bit of a buzz you had before had been chased away. Now you were eager to chase it again and just feel good for the night.
Christian widened his smirk, looking you over through hooded eyes before glancing over your shoulder. “So that he stands a chance of being the one to go home with you tonight.”
You nearly spit out your drink, blinking up at him with evident shock. “Excuse me?”
“I mean no guy likes watching the girl they have a crush on fawn and attempt to jump on other strangers’ dicks. I’m perfectly happy being that dick by the way, but I also think you should give the poor guy a chance.” Setting his drink down, he pulled out his phone and held it out to you. “How about, you give me your number but tonight you try him out for size? If it doesn’t work, shoot me a text and I can take you out on a date. But if it does, well still text me because now I’m invested.”
Flabbergasted, you could only laugh. “You’re crazy, why would I want to sleep with him?” You still found yourself putting your number in his cell and texting your phone from his to get his number as well.
He shrugged, leaning back in his seat and bringing his drink up to his lips. “You find me attractive, so I’d say look wise he is your type. Don’t blame you either. Besides, ever had a hate fuck? Some intense shit right there, highly recommend at least one in your life.”
You turned in your seat to look over Mingi once more, taking note of the way he idly danced to the music that was louder on the floor where he was. Some of his friends were nearby, Yunho having draped an arm around him and seemed to be trying to talk to him or get him out of the pout. You couldn’t deny that he had a point- several points.
“Fine. We’ll see if you’re right. Don’t go anywhere.” Setting your empty glass down you got up, making your way down the few steps to the dance floor and right towards the two towers. Yunho spotted you first, grinning as he nudged his friend a bit in your direction, saying something too quiet for you to hear. Not that you cared, not when the moment you locked eyes with Mingi your chest felt warmer.
You blamed it on the alcohol.
“You happy now?!” You yelled so he could hear you, putting your hands on your hips. “Since you keep chasing away the guys, I don't have anyone to dance with. You can take responsibility for that now.”
You tried to ignore the way his boyish grin had your cheeks feeling hot, as well as the cheers from Yunho and your best friend a bit deeper in the swarm of bodies who you hadn't realized had been watching or could hear you. It had you questioning a lot.
Not that you had a moment to process or ask, as Mingi was placing his hands on your waist and stopping all other thoughts. “I'll be your dance partner for tonight then.”
Well shit, was he right about Mingi? Did the brat have a crush on you?
Better yet… Did you really like that idea?
With a smirk you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back into the swarm of bodies and away from his friends. He didn’t seem to care, entranced by you only. Now that he wasn’t being a thorn in your side, instead pressing into your side, you had to admit he was hella fine. And you would definitely enjoy a little hate fuck with him.
You let the music guide your body, moving it against his and turning in his grasp so your ass was against his thighs. You could feel him, the tight and slim waist under the white shirt, the designer blue and white jeans. He had looked like a fuckboy tonight and here you were, planning to test just how much of one he was.
Damn, you fell quick.
Out of simple curiosity you looked up, right at the bar on the raised landing to find the man who had pushed you to do this. He was leaning back against the bartop, watching you both with a smirk that widened when you locked eyes. As if to tease you, he grabbed the junction in his pants, giving a squeeze before pointing at Mingi behind you. Mingi who had dipped his head into the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your exposed skin and his hand splayed over your lower abdomen and holding your smaller body back against his.
Fuck you were enjoying this, enjoying his attention and touch and Christian could definitely see that. He was even laughing a bit, mouthing ‘I told you so.’
You mouthed back ‘fuck you’ only for him to grab at his dick again.
As if sensing he didn’t have your full attention, Mingi’s hold on you tightened, lips ghosting against your flesh. “I thought I chased him away?”
“Ah Mingi, were you really jealous all this time?” You couldn’t help but tease, body swaying against his to the music, purposely rubbing your ass against his thigh.
He hissed out, bringing his lips to your ear. “I just wanted to be an option, pretty girl.”
Your head rolled to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you tore your eyes away from Christian. He wasn’t your target tonight and damn, Mingi was making you really glad that you had listened to the hottie at the bar. “You’re an option now. Just for tonight, so make it count Mingi.”
“Fuck. Come home with me now? Like right now and I’ll make it a night you won’t forget.” He whispered in your ear, lips brushing the shell and hot breath on your neck causing you to shiver.
How could you tell him no when he was practically begging and rolling his body against yours to the point you could clearly feel his excitement against your lower back? Glancing over at your best friend, you caught her watching with a smug grin. Fine then, you knew when to give in. “Are you sober enough to drive?”
“Had only one- grab your shit I’ll meet you outside?” He mumbled, pulling away reluctantly, his hand sliding down to your ass and giving a quick squeeze before he did.
“Don’t make me regret this.” You huffed out, heading to the lounge area you had left your small bag at with the two of the friend group that wasn’t keen on dancing for the night. They were chatting away, paying you no mind as you grabbed your bag. Sure you talked as if you were doing Mingi a favor but you couldn’t deny how wet you were and just from dancing to three or four songs with him.
How he managed to make you even more wet from just his hand on your thigh while he drove was also beyond you. He barely talked, focused on the road with one hand on the wheel and both tense as he sped within limits. The anticipation was almost too much and you were tempted to whine.
That was the only touch until you were behind closed doors. “Wait, don't you live with some of your friends?” It dawned on you when you noticed several items that you were sure weren’t his.
“They’ll find somewhere else for the night.” He kicked his shoes off, turning to lift you up before you had a chance to take your heels off. “Keep them on for now.”
You lifted a brow and held onto his broad shoulders, unable to see his expression from this angle because of the cap. “Suit yourself. Your room then? I am eager to see how you’ll win me over Song Mingi.”
“Mmm you’ll see soon, princess.” He carried you down the hall, not giving you much of an option of taking in your surroundings. Not that you cared, not when you could feel his lips on the exposed skin of your chest, dipping into the valley of your breasts and breathing you in. “So soft, I could drown myself in you.”
You wondered if he had more alcohol than you to drink with how blunt he was being, or perhaps you were just easily flustered at the moment. You hadn’t even thought of Mingi in this way or would’ve given him a chance if it hadn’t been pointed out and now you were kicking yourself for not thinking about it sooner. When his lips worshiped your skin and his hands were kneading the flesh of your ass as he carried you into his room.
If you thought there were sparks before, it was full blown fireworks in your stomach when he tilted his head back and kissed you. He was a little messy, but not in a bad way. You felt like he was devouring you, laying you back on the bed as you took his hat off and tossed it aside so you could have him closer. “Mingi~”
“Yes Princess?”
“Too many clothes- get them off.” You all but demanded, yanking at his shirt as he pulled away from your body.
He made a sound of agreement in the back of his throat as he quickly made work of your clothes and his shirt. But even with the clothes gone, his hands still worshiped every part of your body. Your sides, stomach, hips and thighs before he pushed them open, licking his lips at the sight of your drenched pussy. “Oh that looks fucking delicious- you don’t mind if I have a taste do you?”
He was already leaning in before you could answer, instead gasping out at the small kitten lick he gave your folds. With a low moan he buried his face against your cunt, lips and tongue making quick work of licking up your arousal and rubbing his nose against your clit. He hitched your legs over his shoulders, your heels a heavy weight on his back as he went. Fuck he knew how to use his tongue, eating you like a starved man with his favorite treat.
Your head rolled back as pleasure assaulted your senses, breathing hitching and hands gripping at the sheets next to you. “S-shit Min- if you keep that up-” You broke off on a loud moan as his lips latched onto your clit and he sucked, making your head spin with electricity. He seemed intent on driving you to and orgasm, lips switching from your clit back to tongue fucking your pussy, back and forth, playing you like an instrument he was well familiar with.
So really you shouldn't be that shocked when he pulled a climax out of you that had you soaking his mouth and shaking against his sheets after several moments of bringing you to the peak before driving you over it. He didn’t pull away, making deep guttural sounds against your cunt as he licked up every drop he possible could while not overstimulating your bundle of nerves. You had to tug him off though, trying to catch your breath and see the dim room normally and not in a post-orgasmic haze.
“Still think you are going to regret it? Calling out for me like that?” He grumbled against your inner thigh, leaving a soft trail of love bites before he stood up.
“Fuck you.” You lashed out, pushing yourself up on your elbows and watching him through your lashes.
“You’re doing that already Princess.” He hummed out with a cocky smirk, pulling his jeans down with his boxers and letting his fat cock spring free, slapping against his abdomen and smearing a little bit of precum in the process. “Let me get a condom first, no matter how amazing I’m sure your pussy feels raw.” Stepping out of his clothes and over to his nightstand. While he rummaged for the condom, you pushed yourself up onto your knees, kicking off your shoes now.
You couldn’t lie, you were eager for him, unable to tear your eyes off of his dick as he rolled the condom on, but you were also determined not to be outdone. “You were the one so fucking eager to fuck me you purposely chased away all the dick that I wanted.” You pointed out, patting the bed and demanding he lay down.
He seemed a bit flustered as he laid down, leaning on his elbows and watching you swing your leg over his hips. “Was I really that obvious?”
“I just thought you were being an annoying prick.” Rolling your hips to drag your cunt against the condom, you observed his reaction.
Mingi couldn’t even look at you, his eyes trained on your cunt teasing him, biting down on his lip as he clearly enjoyed it. “What gave me away?”
With a smirk, you reached between you and held him still at your entrance, teasing him with the prospect of sliding into you but not yet giving it. “Christian did. Even told me if you left me disappointed he would take me on a date.”
His eyes flashed up to yours, anger and jealousy so obvious now. “You’ll have to tell him it's no deal then.” Gripping the bed, he thrust up, burying his full length into you. His hands flew to your hips to hold you still as he rammed up again, and again, not giving you a chance to speak. “I’ll leave you so fucking satisfied you won’t remember his name.”
With the way he filled you up, and how deep he hit in your womb, for a moment you thought he could actually do it. For a moment, he did. He stretched you out so perfectly, hitting every part of you with his big cock that you were a moaning mess and could only think of how good it felt. And how good he looked beneath you like this.
Your hips slammed down to meet each thrust as you held onto his arms, pride swelling in your chest at his own parted and drooling lips. You weren’t going to be the only one so fucked out you couldn’t remember anything else. Intent on driving him just as crazy, you pulled his hands off him and pinned them to his sides, rolling your hips as you leaned forward and letting out a pornagraphic moan as he hit deeper. “Oh fuck- Mingi~”
“Feels s’good Princess. Fuck fuck fuck~” His head fell back as he let you have control, brows pushed together as he desperately tried to meet your hips. “Ah… fuck… mm~ s’good…”
“Was it worth the wait Pretty Boy? This fucking cunt you were drooling over?” You panted out between moans, forcing yourself to stay focused on his expression because it was fucking hot.
He nodded, gripping your ass and digging his nails in as you two fucked each other. When he moaned, like a desperate and deep whine, you clenched down around him, so close. You wanted to tell him, but his desperation grew until you were the one just getting fucked dumb on his cock. Head rolling forward and hands on either side of his head, you tried to look down between you two to watch his cock disappear into cunt with each desperate and rough thrust, the sounds of wet skin just adding to the cacophony of sounds filling the room.
It was also so much better to hear him beg for you to cum with him. “Please please- cream on my cock baby, want to feel it. S’good already, give me more.” With a broken whine, you could tell he was close.
That was all you needed to do to come undone, forehead resting against his chest and drool escaping your parted lips as you shook from the force you soaked his cock. Your head actually spun with how intense it was, vision blurry and the only thing you could process was his hot cum filling up the condom inside you, so deep you felt full.
You collapsed fully on him when he became a puddle beneath you, both of you sweaty and chests heaving in their effort to get more air. You settled in your orgasmic bliss, letting the high fade until the puddle of drool you left on his chest began to irritate your cheek. So you were the first to move, sitting up weakening and letting out a soft whimper when his softening cock moved inside you. “Gotta clean up pretty boy-”
“I know- get you some water, rest for a second…” He opened his eyes and looked up at you, full lips pulling into a smirk. “Get you ready for the next round.”
You didn’t fight off the blush this time, giving his chest a playful slap before pulling off completely. “Who says I want a second round?”
“Mmmh, I do. You’re not screaming my name yet.” He sat up and pulled you back against him, kissing your shoulder in a gentle contrast to his rough hold. “Sit on my face this time. In fact, I want to eat you out until I come untouched. You taste so good I think I can. Want to test that?”
Trying to hide the grin that couldn’t help itself, you nodded. “You’re on.” That date idea no longer seemed like a fun idea- not when presented with options just like that.
Just one night? Debatable.
#pirateadmirer#pirateeznet#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez mingi#mingi x reader#mingi smut#song mingi#mingi#mingi x y/n#mingi x you#for Isa <3
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If you are still doing the fluff alphabet, could you do A B C E G J and K for Alastor?
A, B, C, E, G, J and K for Alastor
I'm still doing this alphabet! I'm unsure of how long I'll be doing it for, but I'll probably cut it when most of the character's have a good chunk of the alphabet done... or when people understandably lose interest. Which ever happens first!
Apologies if I seem a little off today in my writing, that horrid time of the month is approaching and it's throwing me off. I hope you enjoy, Anon!
ATTRACTION:
Now this one is interesting... see I know full well Alastor is aro, or at least somewhere on the spectrum. I'm just unsure of where he lies, if it was ever stated he was totally aromantic or something else. Personally I write him as demiromantic, or perhaps even greyromantic? We also need to take into account on if he's attracted to your romantically or for other reasons. He would probably like to spend his days with someone who keeps him on his toes, at least a fair amount. It keeps things interesting, and unless he has a reason to, he won't stick around if things get dull.
BONDING:
Alastor seems like the type to listen to music while sipping a glass of wine, or some other alcohol. Complete with sitting in front of a fireplace or some other piece that ties the aesthetic together. Reading, too probably. You're more than welcome to come and join him for some quiet time. I enjoy the thought that Alastor spends his time like this when he's not actively doing his job at the hotel or trying to network or build his power.
CUDDLING:
As most sinners are, he's very warm! Very skinny, though. Boney, even. Cuddling is rare, though, because he doesn't enjoy physical touch all the much outside of some occasion. He definitely tolerates your touch better than other's, but it's better to initiate cuddling when the mood is right. He may not initiate it often, however. Cuddling is exclusively done behind closed doors, he prefers his privacy.
EMOTION:
He shows just enough emotion where it's needed. Appearing happy with you and perhaps laughing if something funny has happened, or getting angry about something. He's not totally emotionless, and some of his true feelings do still shine through. But it's hard to tell where that starts, he's good at deceiving those around him into thinking whatever he wants them to think. He reacts and emotes with you, but he's not wearing his heart on his sleeve. In regards to romantic feelings, he does treat you more.. how does one word it..? How he behaves with Rosie, but more... casual and open.
GIFT GIVING:
Oddly enough, Alastor gives gifts fairly regularly. It won't be everyday, but you can bet that you'll always have a new bouquet of flowers by the time the previous ones had begun to die and wilt. Typically small things like that.
If you give Alastor anything, he will politely accept it. Maybe if you go into his room or into his radio tower, you'll find the gifts you've given him. It's a sweet thought, I think, he'd be ready to discard of anything he truly didn't want or need but here he is keeping the things you've given him, regardless of need.
JEALOUSY:
He conceals his jealousy fairly well, often outwardly portraying it by reminding you why you two are together. Re-enforcing the idea that you two are tied together. Be it literally or not.
He easily puts the other person into the ground, once more.. be it literally or otherwise... though that's assuming the other person doesn't turn tail and run when they realize you and the radio demon are an item. Though, that's also assuming they even know who he is..
He's confident that you won't do anything stupid or leave him.
KISSES:
He typically kisses you on the back of your hands and on your cheek. He does a little bow... dip.. when he takes your hand to place a kiss on the back of it. They're usually quick and fleeting.
Receiving he also enjoys cheek kisses. You guys don't do mouth kisses, tongue or not.. that often.. if ever. No harm there, besides kissing someone who's constantly smiling seems like it would be a little awkward.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin imagine#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#alastor x reader#alastor x reader headcanons#alastor x you#alastor imagine#radio demon x you#radio demon x reader
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Hey honey bun sugar plummmm!! Could I get a baki characters with a s/o who has a fat ass (me)
Why of course, thine blessed thiccness will be appreciated!
Baki:
He's more of a tits guy (mommy issues, we all know this) but he absolutely doesn't complain about a bit more cake either. Be it a bubble butt or just genuine cake, he does not mind in the slightest.
That is his ass, thank you very much, so catching others staring or trying to cop a feel will very much wind up in him dishing out swift justice. He's chill about most things, and he doesn't mind others appreciating you as a whole, you're stunning, he knows it, but when they're being gross and pushy about it, that's when he'll step in.
He's got a habit of grabbing people's hips when he walks passed them, he may or may not cop a slight feel with you though. He doesn't mean it to be creepy or pervy, but he can't help but admire the curves you graced him with.
He's got his own cake as well, don't forget that, so the two of you walking side by side out in public earns a lot of stares for many reasons, but the fact that the two of you combined are an entire bakery might also have something to do with it.
Kozue:
Girl is flustered. Literally everyone around Baki that she ever met was cheeked up, and she knows how to appreciate a good behind, but she's a lot more shy about it than, say, Chiharu or Katsumi.
Worried about wardrobe malfunctions? Not while she's around, she is on it. Doing it to be considerate? Absolutely, of course. But was she also watching your ass before the wardrobe failure? Maybe. Perhaps. Perchance, even.
She's the kind of person to look through clothes online and show her friends when she finds things that she thinks would suit them or that they would like, so if you mention wanting something to accentuate your butt a bit, she'll pull out an entire folder.
Lord help her if she catches you in swimsuits, she won't know what to do with herself. Does she admire openly? Does she touch? Please help her lmao.
Hanayama:
Firm ass admirer, but in private. Only he is allowed to admire your ass, that's final. You don't get to stand while he's sitting down, he'll pull you straight into his lap and keep those big meaty hands on your waist, trapping you in place. You don't get up until he lets you.
He won't spank you, but he will give you light taps every once in a while. Just know: he absolutely wants to wind up and slap the soul out of you, but he won't because he doesn't want to hurt you.
You wanna wear clothes that accentuate your butt? It had better only be for his eyes, he's not going to tolerate other people looking at your buns, those are his to admire.
There will be times where he just lays down with you, acts super sweet and everything, and then just grabs your ass. For no reason. It's like watching a cat stare at something on the edge of a table before they knock it off.
Admires your ass while clothed, and while naked. You aren't safe from him, even if you're sitting down, because no matter how strong or heavy you might think you are, you are nothing compared to his strength.
Chiharu:
A menace. He will walk up to you and smack your ass so gotdamn hard that you just won't know what to do beyond pass away on the spot. He sees nothing wrong with it, and he will continue to do this. There's no rhyme or reason either.
Are you getting nasty with him? Don't let him near your ass, because he will bite you, it will hurt, and you can't even get mad at him because he does it out of sheer love.
Steal his pants. I'm serious, steal them. Just walk out with them on, he'll practically break his own neck doing a double-take. They look great on you, and they're incredibly comfortable. It's a win-win!
Feel free to torment him by returning the favour by the way, he knows he can be a bit much, but he can take what he dishes out and more.
Katsumi:
Problem child. He'll use any excuse he can to get at you in general, he's very touchy. That being said, we have seen how efficient this man is at slapping things. He slaps you once and it's over. He slaps your butt and you're going to need ice.
He's also the kinda guy to bite your butt, for no reason. Fresh out the shower? Chomp. Trying to relax in shorts? Chomp. He doesn't even try to explain or justify it, he just does it.
Much like Chiharu, you can return the favour. Unlike Chiharu, he's going to play up every little bit of his response. Did you slap him back? Oh he's going to moan and whine, and by the time you get him to shut up, you're both laughing so hard neither of you can breathe.
He will try and get you into a karate uniform from the Dojo. Is it for personal reasons? Mayhaps. He thinks that it'll look good on you either way, either way he'll get a nice look at his precious in a karate uniform.
Jack:
I don't want to say that he doesn't care, but he just doesn't make a big deal about it. He thinks you're stunning and perfect just the way you are. Does he appreciate a bit more to hold onto? Sure thing! Is he going to start grabbing at you randomly? Not really, no.
Does he occasionally admire? Oh absolutely, he managed to bag you, he's going to admire you every chance he gets. He's a bit dense, but he's not blind.
That being said, if you dress up all nice for him, all of what I've previously said goes straight out the window. He is LOOKING (respectfully) and he is going to be touching, mentally prepare for that fact, because once he starts he's not going to stop for a while.
Lord help anyone that dares to even think of copping a feel or admiring while he's around. He may be pretty, but this man is a solid 8ft tall and has a natural glare that could kill an army.
Kosho:
Also doesn't make a big deal out of it, but you know that he loves ass just by looking at him. He'll admire, he'll touch, and if you're laying on your stomach, he'll use the booty as a pillow in a rare moment of relaxation.
If you really want to drive him wild (re: insane) then wear some tights around the house. He's going to behave himself, he swears, but if you bend over one more time he cannot be held responsible for what he's about to do.
Which is to say that he'll slap the soul out of you and then drag you back to the bedroom. Will you emerge alive? Who knows! He doesn't, and you probably won't either.
Kureha:
He cares, but he's a bitch, so he'll make it seem like he doesn't. That being said, he's so incredibly obvious about his stares and his little hand twitches while he definitely doesn't fantasize about grabbing a hand full that it's almost comedic.
He lowkey (re: highkey) worries about your back, so sometimes he'll just walk up, grab your waist and start rubbing little circles into the base of your spine under the pretense of being bored and wanting to see what you're doing.
He will buy you clothes and expects you to wear them, because he likes they way they look on you. Even if you only wear them around the house for him, he'll be pleased.
Why yes, he is jealous, how did you know? If he catches anyone even so much as glancing at your butt, he's going to glare them into another dimension.
Retsu:
Virgin monk is a virgin, and he was raised not to stare because that's rude. That being said, he can't help it, he thinks your butt is beautiful and he'll outright tell you that whatever you're wearing looks flattering. Has he said this while you were naked? Yes. Yes he has.
Once he gets more comfortable, he's all about grabbing and squeezing at your hips, thighs and butt, though it's all in good fun, he means well by it, and he absolutely appreciates you letting him do this.
He has such comfy pants, much like Chiharu, so you should absolutely steal them from time to time. You know those things are flattering, you've seen them on him after all.
If you ever want someone to watch your form while you're doing squats or lunges, he's your guy, because unlike the others, who would absolutely take this seriously and not just use it as an excuse to stare at your butt the entire time.
#baki headcanons#baki son of ogre#baki the grappler#baki dou#grappler baki#baki rahen#baki hanma#kozue matsumoto#hanayama kaoru#chiharu shiba#katsumi orochi#jack hanma#kosho shinogi#kureha shinogi#retsu kaioh
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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve: Hold You Close
Plot: A night out with the Greyhounds, a short-lived stint as head coach and a massive data leak bring on a full week for Y/n.
Word Count: 5.7k
Warnings: language, alcohol, sexual undertones (nude leak), slut-shaming
A/N: What do you get when you write a football fic with very little knowledge of football? This.
To be honest, this chapter feels more like filler and felt very awkward to write. But even if it’s a tiny step, every chapter moves the story along a little bit. Very much a Keeley and Jamie chapter, so enjoy!
——————
Winning suited Richmond.
A four-game win streak had brightened the halls of Nelson Road Stadium. The whole city was in the best mood it had been since the start of the season. Total Football, though it had taken time, was leading them to victory week after week.
After their fourth straight win, the Greyhounds proclaimed a club night. After months of declining, Y/n finally accepted their invitation to join. Going clubbing was…more than a little out of her comfort zone, but the boys weren’t going to take no for an answer. And truthfully, she wanted to celebrate their good fortune just as much as they did.
Sat in the VIP section of a London nightclub, the Greyhounds shouted to one another over the thumping bass. Colin and Y/n were sat in a corner, Colin entertaining her with a story from training the other day. When their glasses were emptied, they headed to the bar to get a refill.
“Okay, fine,” Y/n gestured to Colin’s bottle, “Gimme.”
Colin handed over his vodka, Y/n poured a bit into her empty glass and threw it back.
She grimaced, letting out a groan.
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Colin replied.
“No, it is,” Y/n screwed her eyes shut, “It really is.”
Y/n wasn’t buzzed, but she was certainly more relaxed than usual. It felt good to be out, to be amongst people she liked, to laugh. It made all the lingering anxiety in her head fall hush.
Colin was laughing at her alcohol tolerance just as a man who didn’t belong to their party came up to the bar. He stood beside Y/n and flashed an easy smile.
“You weren’t saving this space, were you?”
“No,” Y/n’s voice was strained, coughing from the vodka, “Go for it.”
The man flagged down the bartender, “Something strong, please. But,” he pointed to Y/n, “Not whatever she had.”
Feeling like she could see properly again, Y/n chuckled. “Smart choice.”
“I’m Paul,” the now-named stranger held out his hand.
She shook it, “Y/n.”
Colin stayed silent beside Y/n, smiling and sipping his drink.
“Are you here with friends?” Paul asked in a thick Irish accent.
“Uh, sort of,” Y/n glanced back the corner of the room the Greyhounds occupied, “After-hours work thing.”
“Ah,” Paul nodded and thankfully didn’t follow her gaze, “Don’t know how many people want to spend a Saturday night with their co-workers.”
Y/n shrugged, trying to give as little information as possible. “Bit of an unconventional workplace.”
“Okay, well, now you’ve got to tell me what you do,” Paul said plainly.
“Ha,” Y/n smiled, “If I do, I’ll never get rid of you. Trust me.”
“No, no,” Paul held up both hands, “You tell me, I get my drink, and then I leave with a useless fact about a stranger whose name I’ve already forgotten.”
Y/n laughed again. This particular club didn’t strike her as somewhere you’d meet a genuinely nice guy. It was a surprise, and if nothing else, it was pleasant conversation.
“You’re…” Paul decided to start guessing, “Personal assistant to some 5-star chef.”
“If that were true, I wouldn’t have so many takeaway menus in my kitchen drawers,” Y/n replied, visions of Christmas dinner two months before flashing through her head.
“Ah,” Paul winced, strike one, “You’re…a dancer and you’re out with your company.”
Y/n scoffed, “I’m flattered, but no.”
Paul pressed a finger to his lips, twisting fully to face Y/n. It was the most polite way of checking someone out she’d seen.
He pointed towards her, “You’re-“
“There you are,” Jamie exclaimed, sliding up to Y/n, “Babe, I was looking for ya.”
Y/n’s mouth hung open, ready to reply to Paul but struck speechless by the interruption.
“Told ya, waiter could’ve brought us refills,” Jamie slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders and tugged her into his side. “Didn’t have to do it yourself,” he finally took his eyes off Y/n and turned to Paul, “Good night, eh, lad?”
With nothing more than two sentences, Jamie had sent a clear message to Paul that his presence was not required, needed or wanted in the slightest.
“Yeah,” Paul nodded in defeat, “Good night. Hope the same for you,” he gave Y/n a thin smile, “Cheers.”
Y/n awkwardly held up a hand, waving him goodbye, before turning to Jamie. “And what was that?”
“Me savin’ ya,” he answered as if it were obvious. His eyes followed Paul across the room till he was satisfied by the distance. “These places are lousy with creeps.”
“But he wasn’t,” Y/n argued, though it wasn’t really an argument. She hadn’t felt one way or the other about Paul. “He was just nice.”
“I can vouch,” Colin made his presence known again, “Saw the whole thing.”
Details mattered very little to Jamie. The truth of it was, he wasn’t even sure why he had stopped the conversation. The moment he’d glanced over at Colin and Y/n’s spot on the couch and seen it was empty, he went on high alert. Colin could fuck off wherever he wanted, but not knowing where Y/n was unsettled him.
And seeing some guy, creep or no creep, chatting Y/n up and making her laugh felt wrong. Very wrong. So wrong.
“‘Course he was nice,” Jamie replied, “The good ones are always nice at first. That’s how they get ya.”
Y/n watched Jamie mansplain men to her, something she thought was impossible to do. Neither of them really realized his arm was still around her, effectively proclaiming to the club that she was off-limits.
“Well, congratulations,” Y/n took the glass Colin handed her, annoyed yet unable to stop from smirking, “You protected me from harmless small talk with the first person I’ve spoken to outside of work since I started with you clowns.”
Jamie could sense the sarcasm, he didn’t particularly care. The threat had been neutralized. He shrugged, “You’re welcome.”
—————————
A few days later, Y/n was sat at her breakfast table. She watched the busy street below out her window. There was a peace to the hustle and bustle of Richmond that differed from the rest of London. Everyone had a destination, but no one was really in a hurry to get there. It was one of the things that she liked most about living in the middle of it all.
A ‘ding’ from her phone redirected her attention. A Google and Twitter alert. There was a good chance it was pap photos coming out from the club’s night out. A bit late, but still possible.
Y/n held her breath as she reached for her phone. There weren’t a lot of flattering angles to have captured them at by the end of the evening. She tapped the screen to see it was…Keeley…who was trending.
“What…” Y/n mumbled, dropping her fork and typing in her passcode to search further.
Not pap photos. Worse. So much worse.
“What…” she breathed.
There’d been a massive leak of private photos and videos, mostly from celebrities. Among them was Keeley. A racy video of the former model from a few years ago was spreading like wildfire across the digital landscape.
“Oh my gosh,” Y/n whispered as she scrolled various reactions and unfortunate screenshots. She threw her phone down when clips began to fill her feed. The whole country was watching it. Talking about it. Laughing at it.
Y/n scarfed down the rest of her eggs, grabbed her keys and hurried out the door.
—————————
Keeley nearly didn’t answer the door. When the insistent banging didn’t stop, she caved and peeled herself off her bedroom floor. She peeked out the window to see one of the only people she felt like speaking to at the moment.
“I just saw,” Y/n blurted out as soon as Keeley opened the door, “I’m so sorry.”
Keeley exhaled, putting her hands over her face, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know what the fuck-“
“Hey, hey,” Y/n placed her hands on Keeley’s shoulders and guided her inside, “C’mon.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Keeley continued, barely registering that she was moving and that Y/n had shut the front door, “My family’s gonna see it. The team. Our clients!”
“I know,” Y/n replied, sitting them both down on the couch, “But the clients don’t matter right now.”
They did, terribly so, but Y/n wasn’t going to bring that up.
Raking her hands through her hair, Keeley stumbled for words. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m so fucking embarrassed.”
Y/n rubbed a hand over her boss’s arm, “I’m so sorry, Keeley.”
There was no way to fix any part of the awful situation, but Y/n, just by being there, made Keeley feel 1% better. It was better to hurt with someone than to do it alone. Jack had just left and the last thing Keeley wanted to be at the moment was by herself.
“You came all the way here because you saw?” Keeley asked, struck by the sentiment.
“Well,” Y/n shrugged, “Yeah.”
Since Amsterdam, Keeley had seen Y/n’s walls come down, or weaken at least. She hadn’t pushed too hard on the matter, she rather enjoyed the new Y/n. But this, this was entirely out of character.
Keeley threw her arms around her neck, grateful and in need of a hug.
A few months ago, Y/n would have shimmied out as soon as she could. But this wasn’t then, and she tightly wrapped her arms around Keeley, doing what little she could to comfort her.
“This is fucked up,” Y/n sighed.
“So fucked up,” Keeley whimpered, stuck somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
Y/n pulled back, still holding on, “We’re gonna get you through this. I promise.”
Keeley took a shaky breath, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/n smiled, “C’mon, KJPR. Dealing with shitty headlines is our superpower.”
Keeley managed a laugh before digging back into Y/n, the two of them locked in a heavyhearted embrace.
—————————
“No, Miss Jones has no comment on the data leak,” Y/n repeated into her phone, shutting down the fifth reporter of the morning, “Have a lovely day.”
Hanging up, she let her forehead hit her desk. It had been a full day since Keeley’s video hit the internet and she could only pray people lost interest and moved on soon. She had made Keeley promise not to answer any calls, instead forwarding the reporters to her. Most of them were men, but all of them were intrusive.
“A dick pic leaks on the internet,” she grumbled and dragged herself out of her chair, “And fuck all, but armies mobilize for a naked woman.”
Y/n grabbed her notebook and left her office, jogging down the staircase to go about her day as normally as she could.
“Hey, Y/n,” Ted called, exiting his office just as she entered the hallway. A vaguely familiar child was walking beside him.
“Hey,” Y/n half-smiled.
“Haven’t gotten a chance to introduce you,” Ted put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, “This is my son, Henry. Henry, this is Y/n.”
Henry smiled up at Y/n, “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Y/n realized she’d seen him in a picture on Ted’s desk, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Hey, listen,” Ted pointed towards the stairs, “I gotta talk to Rebecca, won’t be more than a half hour or so. Would you mind watchin’ Henry?”
“Uh…” Y/n sputtered, “I mean, sure, yeah, but don’t you have training?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ted quickly said, his mind was clearly somewhere else. He felt around his pockets and pulled out a small box. “Yeah, you know what? Y’all are gonna start training for me.”
While Henry’s face lit up, Y/n’s electrified with anxiety.
“Yeah,” Ted grinned, looking to his son, “There you go. You can go back home, tell all your friends you got to coach a football team. How ‘bout that?”
“Yeah,” Henry said with great enthusiasm.
“Uh, Ted,” Y/n waved a hand, “While Henry,” she smiled for his sake, “May be really good at coaching, I’m definitely not qualified.”
Ted waved a supportively dismissive hand back, “Ain’t nothin’ to it. Get ‘em started on warmups, I’ll be down before they really get goin’,” he handed Y/n the box, “Got this for Roy, but he ain’t gonna use it. You go on.”
With Henry looking up at her like she held the key to his happiness, Y/n didn’t have much of a choice.
“Alright,” she exhaled, feigning excitement, “Let’s go coach a football team.”
“Thanks,” Ted kneeled down to Henry, “Listen to what Y/n says, yeah?”
“Will do, Mr. Magoo,” Henry gave his dad a thumbs up.
Y/n’s eyes widened at the phrasing, there were two of them.
“Alright,” Y/n clapped her hands together as Ted left them on their own, “Let me go set this back in my office and we’ll head out, yeah?”
“Okay,” Henry nodded, following Y/n up the stairs, “So what do you do here?”
Y/n sighed, “Well, I help run the social media accounts. I help the boys with their interviews. Y’know how you see football or baseball players on commercials? I help those happen.”
“Wow,” Henry said as they got to Y/n’s office, “That sounds cool.”
Y/n slid her notebook onto her desk, and faced Henry, “Yeah, it kind of is.” Anywhere else, even she would admit her job was boring, but Richmond had changed that. “Let’s see what your dad gave me.”
Opening the tiny box revealed a plastic yellow whistle. Y/n chuckled, Roy definitely wouldn’t be using this.
“So why’d you come to England?” Henry continued to ask questions, “If you’re American.”
Omitting key details, Y/n slid the whistle around her neck. “I came over for school and loved it so much I just never left.”
“Do you ever miss America?” Henry stayed next to Y/n as they descended the stairs.
That was trickier to disguise. If Y/n was honest, she didn’t miss her home country. It was hard to miss the place all her worst memories had occurred. England had been a refuge before becoming her true home.
“Sometimes,” Y/n replied, guiding Henry down the hall, “I have a little sister who still lives there. I miss her all the time…” she smiled, “And Arby’s.”
Henry agreed just as they reached the doors that would take them outside.
“Alright,” Y/n pressed her hands to the door, “Now these guys are the best in the whole country, in my opinion, so we can’t go easy on them.”
“Got it,” Henry nodded.
“We’re gonna have to work them really hard,” Y/n added.
“I agree.”
Y/n narrowed her eyes, “You ready?”
Henry grinned, “Ready.”
Theatrically, Y/n threw the doors open and they marched down the tunnel.
The boys were stretching and conversing and had yet to notice their coaches were missing. Y/n and Henry headed over to the dugout, Y/n thanking her morning self for deciding on wearing sneakers.
“Do you have a favorite player?” She asked.
“Jamie Tartt,” Henry answered without hesitation, “The first time I visited, he signed my shirt.”
Y/n’s heart fluttered with warmth, “That was nice of him.”
“On my soccer team back home, I’m #9,” Henry continued, “Just like him.”
Y/n’s eyes scanned the group of Greyhounds, finding #9 laughing about something with Isaac. There were probably hundreds, thousands of kids who looked up to Jamie Tartt, but Henry’s admiration was something special.
“Well,” Y/n crossed her arms, “We’ll make sure Jamie has plenty to do.”
Clapping her hands to get the Greyhounds’ attention, Y/n and Henry stepped onto the pitch. “Alright, boys, here’s the deal. Coach has appointed me and Henry here,” she put her hands on Henry’s shoulders, “As your new coaches for the next thirty minutes.”
The team was understandably confused but amused once they saw Henry’s bright eyes. Training was to double as babysitting.
“Now, you’re dealing with one of America’s next top footballers,” Y/n jiggled Henry playfully, “And a woman whose life you all have made incredibly colorful, particularly last weekend…” she gave a thick grin. After their celebration at the club, many of the Greyhounds had needed to be poured into cabs. The task fell to the most sober of them, and Y/n had taken little joy in wrangling them into the backseats. “No one’s going easy on anyone today.”
The boys ‘oohed’ and laughed amongst themselves.
“Alright,” she shouted, “One lap,” Y/n gave a sharp blow on the whistle, “Let’s go!”
All credit to them, the team obeyed orders and set off around the edge of the pitch.
As he passed by, Jamie stopped to give Henry a fist bump.
“How ya been, lad?”
“Good,” Henry grinned, his spirits had lifted even higher the moment Jamie walked in his direction.
“Good,” Jamie stood to his full height to face Y/n, smirking, “Don’t get enough of this with Roy?”
With mere inches between their faces, Y/n blew the whistle smugly, “Fallin’ behind there, Tartt.”
Jamie set off with a smile and ran to catch up to his teammates. Y/n being on the pitch was a surprising, but welcome start to his day.
The boys were about halfway around the pitch when Y/n and Henry started forming their game plan.
“What should we have them do next?”
Henry thought a moment, “What about knee kicks? That’s my favorite exercise.”
“I like it,” Y/n walked across the grass to retrieve one of the balls, “But you better be ready to show them how it’s done.”
Henry’s entire face lit up, the glow radiating onto Y/n’s knowing she’d made it happen. She was going to make sure he went home with the best stories.
The Greyhounds came around the bend, well and warmed up.
“What next, Coach Y/n?” Dani asked enthusiastically.
“Now,” Y/n set the ball on the grass and kicked it to Henry, “You’re in the hands of Coach Lasso.”
Y/n stepped to the side to give Henry the spotlight. The boys all cheered him on as he came to join them, holding the ball under his arm.
“We’re gonna do a knee kick contest,” he said proudly, “We’ll see who can go the longest, and,” Henry scanned the group, “Jamie’ll go first.”
Jamie pressed his fingers to his puffed out chest, stepping forward, “I’m honored.”
Henry tossed him the ball, Jamie easily caught it. Y/n popped the whistle back in her mouth and it shrieked.
“Begin!”
Jamie bounced the ball from knee to knee, the team forming a ring around him to watch. They started cheering each time Jamie’s body made contact, Henry the loudest of them all. He kept it going about thirty seconds before losing it.
Y/n spared him a clap, purposefully holding back, “Not bad.”
Jamie frowned at her, the tips of his lips still curling up.
“Who’s next, Henry?” Y/n asked.
“Sam,” he answered.
Jamie launched the ball at his teammate, Sam caught it and they switched spots.
He lasted the same amount of time as Jamie, Isaac lasted twenty five seconds, Dani lasted forty, Colin lasted twenty eight.
“Alright,” Y/n clapped as Bumbercatch finished his turn, “I think it’s time you boys learned from a true professional.”
Henry stepped up, taking Y/n’s smile as his cue, and caught the ball from Bumbercatch. The boys chanted his name, surrounding him in gleeful anticipation.
Henry began to kick, feeding off the support of the Greyhounds. Y/n stepped back a few feet and pulled out her phone, snapping a few pictures for Ted.
Out of all the Premier League teams filled with cocky young men earning million dollar paychecks, Y/n couldn’t imagine there were many who would behave like the Greyhounds. They were jumping up and down, cheering and counting for Henry as he bounced the ball. It was all so genuine, and they didn’t even realize the extent of what they were doing. They were giving Henry memories he’d cherish forever.
Eventually, Henry kicked the ball for Sam to catch and the boys went wild. Jamie leaped into the air and started victoriously running with Henry, the rest of them following.
Y/n hit the whistle, “Well, I think we can all agree Henry’s the winner.”
The team agreed quite vocally.
“You haven’t gone yet,” Henry called.
“Oh,” Y/n shook her head, “I-“
“No, no, no,” Colin pointed to Y/n, “Boyo’s right. Everyone’s gotta give it a go.”
“That’s right,” Jamie clasped his hands together, “Fair’s fair, Coach.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, stepping onto the pitch to supportive hoots and hollers. Sam threw her the ball and she got into position, taking a deep breath. She’d never touched a football in her life.
Dropping the ball, she clumsily passed from one knee to the other. Henry and the Greyhounds cheered her on as they had each other. She lasted about ten seconds before she felt herself losing it and kicked it across the field. It didn’t make it to the goal, but even Y/n was impressed by how far it travelled.
The Greyhounds went wild, making a massive deal of her minimal accomplishment. A few of them punched her in the arm or high fived her.
“Alright,” Y/n laughed it off, “Henry, what’s next?”
“Corner kicks,” he said decisively, “Last one to grab the ball’s a rotten egg. Go!”
Henry took off before he’d finished speaking, the Greyhounds following. They spent the next ten minutes practicing corner kicks, once again, Henry and the boys insisting that Y/n took part. Pulling closer to the net than the pros, she was able to score a goal, resulting in wild cheers. Dani picked her up and spun her around and Jamie slung an arm around her neck the seconds she was back on the ground. When Henry scored, the Greyhounds lifted him up on their shoulders and ran him around the field.
When Ted gathered himself and headed back out to the pitch, he stopped short at the sight before him. His son, having the time of his life, surrounded by the team. And Y/n, facilitating it all, but enjoying every bit of it herself.
Ted smiled, deciding to watch as long as he could until someone spotted him.
—————————
Later in the day, Y/n drove to the KJPR offices. She hadn’t heard anything from Keeley and wanted to stay as close as she could to help in whatever way she could.
Y/n knocked at Keeley’s door and entered, “Hi.”
Keeley was sat at her desk, pouring over something on her laptop. Most likely, it had nothing to do with business. “Hi,” she mumbled.
“Looking at Twitter isn’t going to help anything,” Y/n sighed, entering the room.
Keeley didn’t look up from her screen, “It’s Facebook.”
Y/n scoffed, “That definitely won’t help anything.”
Keeley tore her eyes away, closing out the browser and turning to Y/n. “How bad’s it been?”
“Oh, Daily Mail were eager to talk,” Y/n fell into the chair opposite her boss, “Didn’t think that was the best avenue to go.”
Barely breathing a chuckle, Keeley ran her hands through her hair.
“I’m not letting anyone get close to you,” Y/n reassured, “And the good news is, the press’ll move on within a few days.”
Keeley glanced up with doubtful eyes.
Y/n regretted the words as soon as she’d said them, “Albeit, they’ll run with this all week. But still,” she reached over and held out her hand, “We’re gonna get through this.”
Keeley exhaled and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing like she was her lifeline.
A knock hit the door and they turned to see Barbara. Keeley did her best to appear as if all was well.
“Is now a good time, Ms. Jones?” Barbara asked, sparing Y/n a polite smile.
“Yes, of course,” Keeley answered perkily, “Yeah.”
Barbara came to stand beside Y/n’s chair, holding a single sheet of paper. “I’m sorry about what happened.”
Keeley looked like she was on the verge of tears, “Thank you, Barbara.”
“Um,” Barbara turned to Y/n, “Does someone have the press-“
Y/n held up a hand, “Got it covered.”
“Good,” she nodded, turning back to Keeley and handing her the sheet, “Jack asked me to give you this.”
“What is it?” Keeley asked.
“It’s a statement,” Barbara replied.
Keeley scanned the text before reading it aloud, “”Allow me to first offer my sincerest apologies,” her brows popped up, “”I deeply regret that video that some of you have seen online. I’m beyond embarrassed, and I never should have made this video in the first place.”
Y/n’s lips parted, even Barbara averted her gaze.
“‘I hope you can forgive me while I learn and grow,’” Keeley finished, looking up to Barbara confusedly.
“Jack thought you could post it across your socials,” Barbara said, “But maybe not Facebook, ‘cause that’s just for grandparents and racists now, isn’t it?”
In her despair, Keeley managed to give a gentle smile and Barbara didn’t miss it as her cue to excuse herself.
Y/n sat still at the desk, her mind flooding with rage. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that the “statement” had been written by a man. How could private property leak and somehow it could be turned around to be the victim’s fault? Worse, how could Jack be alright with it?
“Do you think,” Keeley stared at the letter, “I should put it out?”
In answering, Y/n wasn’t just giving business advice, she was wading into Jack and Keeley’s relationship, something that was entirely off limits. Clubbing with the boys was one thing, relationship talk was way too personal.
“I…” Y/n struggled, “I really don’t think it’s-“
“Please,” Keeley’s eyes snapped up to Y/n, “Don’t do that. I need your honest opinion,” she took a breath, “Do you think this is the right thing to do?”
Y/n had never seen Keeley be so firm, nor had anyone ever called her out on her hesitation. It was a snap back to the reality of the situation.
“Absolutely not,” she answered, speaking with total confidence, “This isn’t a statement, it’s shaming. You dare to do what most of these corporate fuckers do with their mistresses with someone you love, someones steals it from you, and it’s somehow your fault?” Y/n grimaced with rage, “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re the one who got screwed over, you’re the one who’s owed an apology. It is not the other way around.”
Y/n paused, trying to collect herself. “Keeley…please don’t put this out. For all women who have ever had something like this happen, just…please.”
Keeley nodded, as if it only confirmed what she was already thinking.
“Look, you and Jack are…you and Jack and you need to talk about this, but,” Y/n sighed, taking Keeley’s hand once more, “Don’t do it.”
The two of them sat in silence, Keeley eventually folding up the paper and rising from her seat.
“Is Rebecca in today?”
“Yeah,” Y/n answered, “Probably expecting you.”
Keeley nodded as she grabbed her purse, “Tea?”
Y/n frowned as she gathered her purse, “I can’t. Ted’s got a presser.”
The women exited the office together, riding the elevator down without a single word spoken. When they reached the parking lot, they went their separate ways.
“Keeley,” Y/n called once she’d reached her car, “Do I need to…talk to Roy or anything? Make sure he doesn’t speak to the press?”
“No,” Keeley paused her keys in their slot. It was an uncomfortable topic, but PR didn’t care about comfort. “Not, uh…no, not Roy.”
Y/n waited to see if there was more to the answer. At least she was spared a deeply awkward conversation with Roy. The extent of their relationship was a mutual love of yelling at Jamie. She just prayed whichever ex of Keeley’s the video was meant for kept their mouth shut.
“Okay,” she decided not to push, “Hey,” she drew Keeley’s attention one last time, trying to keep her smile, “We’ve got this.”
Keeley gave a watery one back. If she didn’t have Jack’s support, she knew she had someone’s. “Yeah.”
—————————
It wasn’t often that there was so much work it warranted coming in on a Saturday. But a resort chain wanted Dani to do an endorsement for them and the only time their PR department could speak was the weekend. Plus, damage control for Keeley had taken up the lions share of Y/n’s week.
She was sat at her desk, returning an email and waiting for the phone to ring. It was kind of nice having the place to herself, but strange for Nelson Road to be completely silent. Usually from her office, Y/n could hear the sound of the boys conversing loudly down the stairs or Ted’s whistle on the pitch.
Her cell dinged, louder because of the quiet. Y/n picked it up to see it was a text from Jamie.
What you up to?
Y/n snapped a quick picture of her desk and fired it off.
Waiting for the call proved to be tedious as the man she was supposed to speak to was late. She began to scroll social media, her phone having alerted her to the fact that Ted was trending. She found that he and Beard had taken Henry to a West Ham match. A photo of the three of them was flooding the football community.
Where she might have resented Ted months ago, or anguished over the clean up she’d have to do, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. There was a story to be told and she was sure she’d hear it on Monday. It also didn’t escape her that Beard had made a point of coming in full AFC Richmond attire.
“Damn right,” she said to herself.
Knock knock.
“Fucking hell,” Y/n exclaimed, her chair rolling back a few inches.
Jamie grinned, “Sorry.”
“No, no,” Y/n held her hand to her chest, “My heart needed to be reset.”
“What’re you doin’ here?” Jamie asked, shoving into the office.
“Dani’s got a deal with a resort,” she answered, rolling back to her desk, “This was the only day they could talk.”
Jamie nodded, wandering around the room. For all the time they spent together, he never had much of a reason to be in Y/n’s office.
Y/n got a good look at Jamie’s outfit, “And…what are we wearing?”
Jamie turned on his heel, looking down at himself. He saw nothing controversial about the vest, hoodie and joggers combo. “Fashion,” he answered, gesturing down his body.
“Right,” Y/n replied as she checked her inbox. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to his particular taste in clothing. “Where’ve you been today?”
“Eh, stopped by Keeley’s,” he answered, coming to sit down across the desk, “See how she was doin’.”
“Oh,” Y/n replied, glancing back at her computer before two loose pieces in her mind connected and stilled her. Why did Jamie have any reason to check in on Keeley if not…?
“How, uh,” Y/n stuttered, “How’s she doing?” She hadn’t spoken to Keeley yet, unsure as to how she’d handled the conversation with Jack.
Jamie shrugged, “She’s alright. I, eh…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah, she’s okay.”
Y/n looked up and smiled, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on something deeply personal. “Good.”
By now, Jamie was a pro at reading her expressions. If not the intricacies, the general vibe. He pointed a finger, “What’s that face?”
“What face?” Y/n asked.
“That face,” Jamie moved a little closer in his chair, “Everything’s fine but it’s not, you make that face.”
Y/n attempted to shrug it off, wanting to shrug out of the entire situation. “Jamie, I’m fine. I’m glad Keeley’s okay, glad you went to check on her.”
Jamie watched carefully, trying to decode the layers of what she was saying and, more importantly, not saying. He retracted his finger into his fist when he guessed.
“Oh.”
Y/n’s eyes darted up from her laptop screen and back down.
“How’d you not know that?”
“Know what?”
A single laugh and Jamie smiled, “You’re a lot of things, but you ain’t dumb.”
Y/n grimaced, wishing she could disappear into thin air. Moments like these made her miss her boundaries. Isolated as they kept her, they had merit.
“I didn’t know you two…” she awkwardly pursed her lips and stared down at her keyboard.
“All that research,” Jamie smiled at her awkwardness, “Didn’t look into that bit?”
“It’s not my job to know who’s sleeping with who,” Y/n replied quickly, hating how she’d phrased that.
Jamie hummed, “Kinda is.”
Public relations did involve handling all types of headlines. Personal and otherwise.
“Well, you didn’t tell me either,” Y/n retorted.
“I thought you knew,” Jamie enunciated with a laugh.
Y/n couldn’t place what changed, but knowing that her boss and the person who was effectively her closest friend had dated made her feel…uneasy. Knowing such an intimate video had been made for someone she knew, she felt like she’d seen some side of Keeley and Jamie not meant for her to ever know about.
“Right,” Y/n spread her hands over her desk, “Are there any more relationships, past, present or potential, in this club that I need to know about?”
Jamie thought a moment, deciding to exclude any and all locker room talk he’d been present for regarding Y/n. It had started the second she’d walked through the door, dying down and picking back up every once in a while.
“You’re safe,” Jamie replied, finding her discomfort cute.
Any further conversation was blissfully halted as Y/n’s desk phone rang. Finally. She moved to pick it up but was met with Jamie’s hand fending her off.
“Jamie, what-“
Jamie shushed her, nudging her hand away. He lifted the phone off its base and flopped back into his chair.
“Ms. Y/l/n’s office,” he greeted, his Mancunian accent disappearing to turn posh and nasally, “How may I help you?”
Y/n covered her mouth to silence her snort. She waved for the phone with her free hand.
“And she knows why you’re calling?” Jamie continued, sliding away from Y/n’s grasp. “Hold, please.”
He covered the microphone with his palm and smiled. Y/n’s annoyance was a poor mask over her joy.
“It’s for you,” he whispered.
Y/n shook her head and yanked the phone out of his grip. “Hey, Oscar,” she greeted, “Glad we could finally touch base.”
Jamie fell back in his seat, content to wait and watch her take the call. He was happy to stay and bother her as long as he could.
And Y/n would let him, without hesitation.
———————
Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)
#ted lasso fic#ted lasso fanfic#ted lasso fanfiction#ted lasso imagine#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt imagine#ted lasso x reader#keeley jones x reader#heartfirst
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;R1999 6 - Relationship Headcanons
Compilation of headcanons about 6 in a romantic relationship.
I was struggling soooooo hard with another 6 request so I had to get this post out of my system fist before tackling that one
Okay, first of all! I don't see 6 as the type of person who would be that interested in having a relationship, at least not beyond what is expected of him as the leader of Apeiron. It's the least of his priorities as of now.
Part of it is largely due to his responsibilities--he knows that he cannot afford to show any sort of favoritism, and he is much too thoughtful to force someone he cares about under such pressure, simply because he harbors feelings for them. It's very ironic that the one thing that defines his entire life and existence is also what keeps him from seeking any deeper relationships. 6 knows more than anyone that the loneliness of his title would be extended to his partner, and so, he has no actual firsthand experience in romantic relationships other than what he might've studied while in reclusion.
Of course, this isn't to say that he's entirely inept when it comes to socializing or all sorts of relationships. He is the best at being 6 for a reason, as much as he dislikes it.
We know that he loves his people, if his devotion to his role of leader is anything to go by. And he clearly cares about his friendship with 210, 37 and Sophia, as strained or complex as these dynamics may be, as he makes sure to retrieve the crown that they made for him each and every day that it's stolen. He loved his aunt Alma too, she played a big role in his upbringing after all.
So 6 isn't a stranger to love, but he is very passive about it.
To describe 6 as "passive" could be seen as an insult, especially after what his character event showed us in relation to his struggle against fate, but I think there's a key difference to the passive nature that is presented between 6 prior to receiving the Revelation and after he settles in as the new leader. His initial lack of action was fueled by resignation, a fear for the inevitable fate his bloodline carries. But now, he knows that refusing to act is sometimes necessary to maintain the harmony within the island, this is why he's described as a mediator. Love can happen, but there's no reason to upset the precarious balance he maintains by indulging in romance.
On the subject of 6 developing a crush.
6 is an extremely introspective man with a very good grasp on his own feelings and thoughts--even more so now that he's obtained the Revelation! If he has a crush then trust me, he knows. He notices the fondness he has for you the moment those feelings start blooming in his chest.
And he's not going to do a single thing about it.
He's not going to act upon any of his feelings. He's not going to let anyone find out, for the sake of maintaining this perfect balance. His behaviour remains the same, no signs of being flustered whatsoever. There are no fleeting glances, no hands brushing on accident. He doesn't stare at you from afar, wondering if you could ever love him, pining and yearning for your attention.
That doesn't happen, not in public.
Just like every other detail about his life, his thoughts of you are kept private, for him to ponder on whenever he's alone in his room, meditating. The outside world has no business bearing witness to these feelings--you are special to him and so, he keeps the memory of you safe and sound. 6 is much too mature to actually pine and yearn, but he does like to wonder and explore other possibilities, another life in which he's not burdened by fate, in which he's given the choice to find his own soul number for as long as it takes. Another life in which he can openly confess without fearing for what might happen to you should you accept him.
I like to think that these little fantasies help him tolerate the stress of the daily routine, it's something nice that gives him solace. When he's alone, his existence isn't defined by a number nor the history of his family, he can just be at ease and dream of better things.
I want to stress the fact that he wouldn't confess, no matter how strong his feelings are. Even if you happened to reciprocate, 6 would always prioritize the stability of Apeiron and turn you down for your sake and everyone else's. 6 would actually prefer to be close friends with his crush.
On the subject of dating 6.
I like to think that for 6 to start considering the idea of courting you, you have to actually debate him.
Not a battle of attrition like the debates 210 insists on having, but a fair and honest discussion to give him proof and solid arguments that could help him ease into the idea of dating someone for love, rather than duty. Something like this would really ease 6's mind, being able to get to know you better through the way you defend yourself and the love you hold for him, as well as weighting the public's reaction. Two birds in one stone. If you manage to do that, then there's no reason for him to object.
I don't know what I like the most out of these options though, the idea of 6 choosing to give a proper confession in private to finally share everything he's kept to himself, so that you may accept all of him at his most honest and vulnerable. Or him not confessing, choosing to invite you to his study and enjoy a moment of respite in absolute silence, knowing that there's nothing keeping you two from being together. So whichever floats your boat!
When it comes to actually dating him, not much would change.
6 understands that there's been a considerable shift in his life, but his lack of experience and solitary lifestyle would lead him to continue with his routine--if you want to see him, then you'll have to seek him out like you've always done. He's more than content knowing you're aware of his feelings and wouldn't really seek to change anything else, so it's entirely up to you to communicate and discuss what you'd like out of this relationship. He'll be more than glad to listen and accomodate you as much as he can.
You taking the initiative in this might also fuel him to share the things he'd like to do! Again, this passive nature doesn't come from shyness, but duty. I can see him being open to anything and being very direct about his own needs, as long as he can continue to separate his personal life and time with you from his time outside and his responsibilities.
Overall, dating 6 is a very calm experience! He never got the chance to know himself without the pressure of the Revelation, but he enjoys getting to know you instead. While most of the time he simply asks you to sit with him and relax, he puts the effort into finding time to spend with you, even if it's just walking together from one place to another before both of you must tend to your respective duties.
On the subject of his partner not being from Apeiron.
The way I see it, 6 is a little more lenient with certain aspects--unlike 37, for example. I don't see her capable of being in a romantic relationship with an irrational number, and getting to trust someone from outside who isn't specifically aiming to adapt to the scriptures will take a long time, but 6 is a little more flexible under the proper circumstances.
I believe this is the case because of his Bond: Morning voice line!
...One should never parcel off the loaf, for it's a violation of the scripture. But we are not on the island. So, please enjoy the freedom.
So the moment this pressure of responsibility is lifted from his shoulders, I think he would be open to the possibility of his partner being literally anyone. Because of the Revelation, I don't think 6 is blinded by faith like other members of Apeiron are, if else he's burdened by the contradictions and paradoxes that are natural in the world.
Not sure how he would feel with a human partner though! Chapter 05 only says that humans and mankind as a whole are dismissed entirely as "imaginary numbers," forbidden on the island, and there's no specifics on how they feel about mixed arcanists.
Round of cute things.
Literally just a round of cute things that 6 would do or enjoy because I don't know how to incorporate them onto the post in a fancy way.
His crown was made to keep his hair out of his face, but we can see that it's not doing a very good job lol. I think 6 would really find it charming whenever his partner tucks his hair behind his ear so they can get a look at his face--he's much too used to hiding and keeping to himself, so wanting to be seen by you is a pretty new experience. It's also a very casual and innocent gesture, so whenever he feels like getting you to pay attention to him (more than often as a way to excuse himself out of some other conversation) he will allow his hair to drape over his face hoping you'll notice.
6 isn't big on public displays of affection. Just sitting next to you is more than enough for him--but if he happens to notice you get lonely or make cute eyes at him, he will scoot close until your shoulders bump into each other. If 6 is feeling particularly cuddly, he will hold your hand.
But behind closed doors, 6 is very partial to kissing the top of your head or your temple. It's a very gentle kiss, he doesn't even pucker up, just closes his eyes, gently rests his lips there and hums to himself. And he could stay there for a long time if you let him.
If 6 is feeling restless for whatever reason, I can see him asking you to read something for him, so he can concentrate on the sound of your voice and nothing else. It's very soothing to him. He prefers that you read something he can tune out, as opposed to telling him something he'd like to pay attention to--like your thoughts or how your day has been.
Oh! Also, I don't see him as the type to want matching accessories or material things like that, but if you were to give him a gift or something to match with you, he would specifically ask you to keep it simple--nothing gilded, nothing shiny, nothing that is easy for seagulls to steal. Something like a little string bracelet, if possible in your favorite colors rather than his--it might be just a small fragment in a world of matters, but it means so much to him.
Also also, 6 does notice a lot of your gestures or expressions, the little things about you that often go unnoticed. The way you might scrunch your nose, tilt your head, fiddle with your hands, tap your feet--anything.
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