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pencil-n-pen · 4 months ago

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I WANT AN INNOCENT LOVE

.☘︎ ݁˖

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alexandria! rick grimes x fawn! fem! reader

masterlist | kofi

summary: you’re a new addition to alexandria. Rick’s just looking out for his group. That’s the only reason he finds himself drawn to you. Nothing else.

cw: LEGAL age gap (it is big, i imagine reader in her early 20s) canon typical depictions of violence, Rick is kinda mean to reader at first, Rick kind of struggles with the age gap a little, dom! Rick, slight possessive rick

tags/tropes: shy and skittish reader, she’s not used to dealing with people but she’s not helpless, honestly she’s just a sweet and soft person who became what everyone becomes in the apocalypse, hurt/comfort, insecurity, touch-starved reader a bit, YEARNING, no saviors or whisperers just Rick and everyone living happily in alexandria. Daryl is also here and he’s kind of like ur uncle bc i love daryl and i say so

a/n: i have nothing to say other than this is so insanely self indulgent it’s not even funny. nobody asked for this but writing it has kept me sane while i’m couch ridden. everything is terrible rn but rick grimes <3333

songs i listened to while writing: We'll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross, Work Song by Hozier (Rick's theme song) you were mine by Esha Tewari, Do I Wanna Know- Hozier's Cover, Somethin' Stupid by Nancy & Frank Cinatra, Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley (i'm so not normal about that entire album) Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers, Little Bit by Lykke Li (the original not the remix)

title taken from Under Your Spell by Snow Strippers

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You were just a little thing when you showed up at the gates.

All wide-eyed and skittish at the tree-line, clothes hanging awkwardly off your frame. Scuffed and dirty, when Rick goes up to the tower to scout you out.

You don’t quite come close enough for anyone to get any kind of information on you. Name, age, where you’ve been, what you’re doing at the gates.

These are all questions Rick, as leader, needs answers to.

If he could just convince you to get close enough.

Under different circumstances, he’d just let you do whatever it is you’re planning on doing, but the lurking is starting to make people uneasy. And he figured he ought to do something to ease their concerns. Easiest way is to either get you inside the walls or find answers to those questions.

You’re real good at staying out of reach, though. And you never stay in one place for long. By the time two weeks have gone by, you’ve made it around the entire length of the walls. Just to end up right where you started: the gates.

It’s just past the crack of dawn- dew is still lingering on the plants and grass and the sun’s rays have yet to actually provide warmth. Rick is up, making his rounds and checking in when one of the guards on rotation lets him know that you’re at the gates. Only time you’ve ever been that close.

So they’re opened, and you amble in— light-footed and unsure. Honestly, you remind him a bit of Daryl with your obvious hesitance to be in the company of other people and clear inclination towards nature. But where Daryl is hard edges and reclusiveness, you’re… softer.

A small group of people —curious onlookers, mostly— forms behind Rick as he saunters towards you, and he watches the moment you see the reality of your decision and begin to regret it.

He comes to a stop a few feet away from you, letting the silence hang in the air for a bit.

He finally takes you in with his own two eyes, without the aid of the binoculars, and he examines. Catalogs the nervous twitch of your hands and scuffs and scrapes he can see on the visible scraps of skin. Eyes the way you worry your lip between your teeth and can’t decide if you’re going to keep staring at him or look away- your mind clearly torn between vigilance and submission.

“You finish your tour of Alexandria?” He asks dryly.

You blink up at him, eyes wide. “Are you the leader of this safe-zone?”

He nods. “Sure am.”

You begin fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly. The small motion draws his attention back to your hands, where me notices bandaids practically covering the entire surface of your skin. He files the information away in his head for later.

“Are you currently accepting new members?”

He can’t help but crack a smile at your question. The way you phrase it and your nervous demeanor remind him so much of the times before the dead started walking— you look like a college student looking for a job, not somebody trying to find refuge here, after the end of the world.

“Depends,” He rests his hands on his hips, and he notes the way your eyes dart to the gun at his side before back up to him, “You got any skills to offer? You alone? Or do you got a group waitin’ for you?”

Your lip is raw from where you release it from your teeth.

“I’m really good at mending. I’m a proficient hunter. I can hold my own in a fight. And I’m alone.”

At the admittance of your lack of company, you shift back a few steps, a subtle re-distribution of weight.

Ain’t been socialized a whole bunch, Rick thinks to himself. He’s willing to bet you either don’t have a lot of positive experiences with large groups of people or you just plain ain’t been around em’ much.

He hums. “You killed anybody?”

“Walkers or live?”

“Either.”

You shift your shoulders. He’s starting to wonder just how many nervous actions you have.

“I don’t think anybody lives alone who hasn’t killed walkers.”

“And the living?”

You don’t move, but your eyes look to the ground, not at him.

Shame. Fear.

“Twice.”

“How come?”

“They wanted my supplies. Wanted me dead. I decided I didn’t want to die.”

He looks you over again. You really are a cute little thing. He thinks, absentmindedly in the back of his head, that something like you shouldn’t have bloody, bandaid covered hands. Shouldn’t have a kill count.

But he dismisses the thought. The end of the world leaves no room for those unwilling to do what’s necessary.

He dips his head. “We’ll get you settled in,” He jerks his head to the some of the guys behind him. “They’ll get you sorted out. Get along, now.”

You slink past him, distance carefully measured as you go.

Your eyes don’t quite leave him, though. There’s a moment- either you pause or his mind slows. Maybe a bit of both. But the air stills, and your gaze locks on him for the first time since he saw you, nestled in that tree line. The memory is clear and vivid- the sun shining through the trees, dappling you in shades of amber and grey. And then he’s here, and you’re looking up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and the sun has risen just enough that it casts a similar glow, the only difference now he can see up close just how the light catches on your face, just how he knows your features would look so different, so much softer if you were cleaned, if someone minded the cuts and scrapes.

And then you step away, and he snaps out of his reverie. He blinks a few times at your retreating form, shakes his head, and then busy’s himself with other work. There’s always something to be done.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the image of you gazing up at him, bathed in the early morning sun out of his mind.

—

A few days pass, and Rick sees little of you. He’s almost positive it’s on purpose. The few times he does see you, you look scared. And then, generally, you manage to make some sort of fleet-footed escape. The repeated spotting and fleeing reminds him of the time he accompanied Daryl on a hunt and startled a doe.

He can’t quite figure out why you’re afraid of him, though. He remembers being fairly decent to you when you arrived, and tried coaxing you towards the gates politely before you’d shown up on your own.

The sight of your scared expression ends up stuck fast in his head, usually super-imposed over the image of you on that morning at the gates. Two different versions of you, neither making any sort of sense.

He decides that it’s probably best that he stick away, if he scares you. You’ll settle, your ruffled feathers’ll smooth.

And he’ll stop thinking about you.

—

Neither do you settle or does he stop thinking about you.

He watches you from a distance, careful. You just… don’t relax. Ever. You creep away from every possible opportunity to connect with others like it might grow jaws and bite- you shrink back or freeze. Like you think if you play dead, if you don’t move, they’ll leave you alone.

He’s wondering what you hoped to accomplish by seeking refuge in Alexandria if this is how you act. You’re going to have a bad go of things if this is your plan. Or maybe you plain haven’t even thought that far.

He snags Daryl’s arm as he passes by.

“Wha—“

“The new girl,” Is all Rick says, still watching you remarkably avoid everyone who passes you. “She’s real skittish.”

Daryl follows his eyeline, finding you easy enough.

“Mm. She ain’t settlin’?”

“No.”

Daryl just hums again. “Well, she ain’t got nobody, does she?”

“So?”

The hunter shrugs. “Can’t relax. Ain’t got nobody to watch her back, take a watch. She’ll settle. Might take her a bit of time.”

Rick huffs. “She’s afraid of me.”

“No she ain’t,” Daryl snorts, “And since when does Rick Grimes care whether other people like him well enough?”

Rick doesn’t respond, just keeps watching you.

Daryl follows Rick’s gaze, then breathes out a low sigh.

“She is a pretty little thing, ain’t she?”

“That is not what this is about.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Sure it’s not.“

“She’s half my age. I could damn well be her father.”

“But ya ain’t.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is the point, Rick?” Daryl sighs again, crossing his arms. “Either do something about it or move on. You got too many people dependin’ on ya for you to be eyeing up flighty young girls.”

Rick rolls his shoulders. “You make me out to be such a creep.”

The other man claps him on the shoulder. “Then stop acting like one.”

He attempts to take Daryl’s advice to heart. It’s an annoying truth that Daryl always knows exactly what Rick needs to hear. Not necessarily what he wants to hear, but what needs to be said.

And he is being creepy. He shakes his head as he walks away. Watching you, thinking about you. He can’t. That’s— you’re too young to be thinking any kind of thing like that.

No matter how there’s this half second, before you look scared, where you almost look relieved. No matter how he wants to personally take care of the bumps and scrapes on your face, wants to take off the bandaids and examine what’s beneath them.

Daryl was right. He needs to focus. Carl, Judith, everyone- they need him.

You’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

—

You’ve gone missing.

Rick has been doing his best to heed Daryl’s advice— he stopped looking for you in the crowds, stopped trying to figure you out, stopped watching you from afar. He even made a fairly decent attempt to stop thinking about you. Not that the effort proves especially fruitful, but he tried, damnit.

All of those efforts go straight out the window when Daryl tells him that no one’s seen you since yesterday.

It takes him two seconds to grab his gun and follow Daryl out the door.

He barely remembers to tell Carl where he’s going, which scares him, because he doesn’t quite understand what’s been so invasive to his mind and day-to-day activities about you. Your eyes, the soft curve of your cheek, how you might feel in his hands.

They cloud his judgment. Make him do stupid reckless things like search Alexandria high and low for any sign of you.

He doesn’t find any. He searches the place you’re staying— nothing. Only sign of life is the unmade bed and bandaid wrappers in the trashcan by the bed.

He sighs deep and low as he stands over your bed. “Think she had enough? High-tailed it?”

Daryl leans against the doorway. “Nah. She likes it here well enough. She ain’t stupid enough to leave a good thing like this.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve spoken to her?”

Daryl shrugs. “Few times. She don’t like talkin’ too much, but I think she figures her and I similar.”

“She wrong?”

He scratches his beard. “A little. She fears situations and people the way a prey animal does. S’ why she’s a runner.”

Rick mulls Daryl’s words over as they scan the rest of the place but, of course, find nothing. There are no signs that you, specifically, live here. Nothing personal. Just the unmade bed and the bandaid wrappers in the trashcan.

The pair of them turn the entirety of Alexandria over in a matter of hours. He’s just about to call it quits, either wait for you to come back or send out a search in the morning when Daryl comes back over, telling him you’re at the gates.

As in, outside of them.

Opposite of how things went when you first showed up at the gates, people clear a path as he stalks towards you. They give the pair of you a nice, wide bubble. Even Daryl stays a few feet behind him.

The first thing he notices is that you’re covered in blood. From the way you’re holding yourself, most of it isn’t your own. There’s a backpack slung over your shoulder, but it’s not your usual one.

You won’t meet his eyes.

He stops an arms length away from you. “Where the hell were you?”

You shift backwards, away from him ever so slightly. “Scavenging.”

“Mhm, interestin’,” He says, rubbing his jaw, “Because the last scavenging party was yesterday. And you came back with everybody, so I’ll ask again. Where were you.”

Your eyes flick up from the ground for a moment, eying the people that have gathered to stare. He watches you mentally count them all, then attempt to put more distance between yourself and everybody else. Emphasis on attempt, because the second you take a step back, you stumble, wincing before righting yourself and going right back to scanning the crowd.

He works his jaw, anger and annoyance simmering just under the surface of his skin. He’s not going to get anything out of you here.

He grabs your wrist and turns, set in the direction of the medics.

He drags you along behind him, ignoring the little huffs or sharp intakes of pain when you walk a little too hard or too fast on your bad ankle.

You trip a few times as you go, and when you almost take Rick down with you, he sighs, pausing and turning.

The expression you give him is full of fear. He realizes, in the moment, that you might not remember where the medics are, so as far as you know, he’s angry at you and dragging you to a secluded area.

Guilt strikes him hard and fast, right in his chest.

Damn.

It’s too early to feel guilty about the random girl he allowed into Alexandria. Frightened eyes and shy nature aside.

He shakes his head once. “We’re going to see a doctor. Here, put your arm around me.”

He has to lower himself a little for you to drape your arm across the back of his neck. Your fingertips brush his shoulder, and he can feel the way you’re shaking.

It’s slow going from then on, with Rick acting as your crutches.

“Where were you? And don’t bullshit me.”

“Scavenging.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” You nudge the backpack still strapped to your back. “I was… looking for something. I can’t look for it with the others.”

“What the hell is it that you can’t look for it with the others?”

“A body.”

Your response hangs in the air, thick and heavy.

“…Family or friend?”

“Friend. Haven’t found her yet.”

Something clicks into place in his mental file about you. He feels like he just gained a new piece of the puzzle.

He readjusts your weight over his shoulder, tucking you a little closer and steadfastly pretending he doesn’t hear the little gasp you let out at the contact. Whether it was from pain or surprise, he can’t let himself think about it.

“Don’t go out by yourself. If you need to look, take Daryl with you.”

You sag a bit into him. “Okay.”

He glances down at you from the corner of his eye. You’re… pliant. You’d agreed quickly, and showed absolutely no fight or unwillingness when he, admittedly, manhandled you. You’d followed dutifully behind him and then simply allowed him to position your arms the way he wanted them.

There’s another little parasite that burrows into his brain right there. Right as he’s got you in his grip.

He slows to a stop, a little question forming in his head. He slips the arm that had been wrapped around your waist away, instead curls his fingers across your chin and jaw. He tilts your head up, looks down at your face, searching it for… something.

He meets no resistance. You only stare up at him, doe eyes blinking. He tilts your head to the left, then to right, and still, nothing.

Huh.

He lets go, and you shudder, a full body shiver. And he thinks, in this moment, that he could do whatever he wanted, and you might let him. He could break you, like this.

It’s a very dangerous thing, he decides. Because he doesn’t want to break you. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants to peel back the bandaids and see what’s under them. He wants to scrub the dirt from your face and give you soft clothes —his clothes— not those tattered rags that hang off your body.

You might let him do whatever he wants, but you’re the one who holds this power over him. You’re the one who made him sick— filled his head and clouded his judgement and made him the kind of man he never used to be.

But he can’t say any of that. Can’t even act on it. Not with someone young enough to be his daughter. He has a daughter for Christ’s sake. And a son.

So he just wraps his arm back around your waist and helps you to the medics.

—

“Rick,” Daryl says one afternoon, leaned on the post on the porch, “You’re drivin’ me crazy, here.”

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to help with that.”

“The fawn.”

He raises an eyebrow. “The fawn?”

“You know. That nervous little thing you keep pretendin’ you don’t want in your bed.”

“Daryl.”

The man just keeps fiddling with his crossbow. “What?”

“I can’t just— she’s half my age.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I got kids to think about, and—“

“Carl don’t give a shit and Judith is ten. Only thing she’s concerned about is sneakin’ sweets.”

He entertains the notion in his head, thinks about what pursuing you might be like.

Something occurs to him.

“She ever get close to you?”

“No,” Daryl huffs, always knowing exactly what Rick means, “Keeps about an arm’s distance away. No matter what. She’s been inchin’ closer recently, but not by much.”

His hand on your face, moving it this way and that without any resistance at all, your body pliant in his grip—

“Hm,” Is all Rick says, crossing his arms.

“Why fawn?”

Daryl shrugs. “Looks like one. Kinda acts like one, around you.”

“No she doesn’t.”

Daryl levels him with a look. “Yes, she does. And based on the way you’ve been actin’, you like it.”

He opens his mouth to refute the point because no, he doesn’t like it, he just constantly thinks about how far he could take it, what you would let him do, if he could make you his.

And then he thinks ‘oh.’ Maybe he does like it.

He drops his hands to his hips. “What exactly am I supposed to do, then?”

“I don’t know. Ain’t my area of expertise.”

“You’re the one who knows her better, said I was drivin’ you crazy.”

“So? I don’t know jack shit about romance, Rick.”

“Well, you keep calling her a fawn. How different can it be?”

Very different, his mind supplies. You know that.

Now it’s Daryl’s turn to sigh. “Don’t overwhelm her. She’s a nervous little thing, but she likes you. Once she figures out you ain’t gonna hurt her, she’ll latch on.”

“That’s specific. You deal with fawns a lot?”

He snorts. “No. I’m fuckin’ guessin’ here.”

The two men fall into silence, Daryl fiddling or cleaning his bow— Rick ain’t paying that much attention to him.

He’s thinking about you. You, you, you. Your eyes and your face and your hands and the figure you carefully keep hidden under layers of clothing, even under the hot Virginia sun.

Fawn, he thinks to himself.

Fitting.

—

He doesn’t make a plan or something stupid like that. He just thinks. And then he decides.

“You’re really coming with us?” Glenn asks, pack slung over his shoulder.

“Yep,” Rick says, holstering his gun, “Goin’ stir crazy in there. Just needa get out for a bit.”

You’re quiet as you get your things in order, but the group doesn’t bat an eye. They’re used to your silence, it seems.

You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, though. You look away every time you think he’s looking at you, but he’s good at looking at you out of the corner of his eye, so he sees it.

Throughout the run, you hover near him, never quite going out of range of his field of vision. He’s impressed by how quietly and efficiently you work- you spot things even he wouldn’t have. All the while watching for walkers, and of course, subtly eyeing Rick.

Despite being the leader, he heads up the back and watches for stragglers. He didn’t really come out cause he was stir-crazy, anyway.

He came out for you. He wanted to watch you work, wanted to do it with you.

To your credit, you work well with the others. You’re a woman of few words with them, but you help where you can and stay civil. Even if you don’t quite get close to any of them.

Except Rick.

As they’re scavenging an abandoned house, a few walkers shuffle out from the trees. Not enough to be a problem— the group outnumbers them easy. But you’re all busy getting supplies and he’s trying to keep an eye out, so he takes them out, one by one.

It really isn’t a huge thing for him, couple walkers ain’t really a big deal, but you notice.

Your eyes are trained on him, clothes now dirty with blood and gore.

He tilts his head, then makes his way over to you.

“You, um,” You say as he gets closer, voice a little hoarse, “Are you alright?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. It’ll take more than a few walkers to take me out.”

You blink. “Oh.”

He snorts a little laugh. “You ain’t too good at this whole conversation thing, huh?”

You flush, looking away. “Sorry. I’m just not… used to having them.”

You look up at him, earnest. “But I’ve been practicing!”

Oh, lord have mercy over his poor soul. You’ve done a full 180– turned from being afraid of him to very obviously wanting his approval.

“That’s good, that’s good. Who you been practicin’ with?”

“Daryl.”

“Now, that ain’t no good.”

You frown, shifting in place. “It’s not?”

“Well, it’s good that you’re tryin’,” He amends, “But Daryl ain’t good for conversation practicin’. He’s a little too much like you. Much too inclined to just sit in silence.”

“Oh.”

You pause, taking your lip between your teeth and mulling something over in your head.

“Would you, um.” You look up at him, clearly nervous.

And he can’t help himself really, from leaning down into your space a bit, a low “Hmm?” humming from his chest.

Your reaction is instant. This close, he can see the exact moment a flush crawls across your face, to even the tips of your ears.

And he’d suspected, you know, based on your behavior with him. But this— cold hard evidence that he makes you nervous. That you want him on you.

It’s cute. Real cute.

You steel yourself against your own nervousness, and he wants to coo at you.

“Would you practice with me?”

He leans back against the post, slides his hands into his pockets. “Course. Ain’t much to it.”

You smile. It’s small, a quiet sort of thing, but it’s there. He made you smile.

You gesture to the house behind you. “I’m. Gonna go back to scavenging. Um. Thanks.”

You turn on your heel, fleeing back into the house. He watches you go, something settling right into place in his chest.

You stick a little closer to him for the rest of the run.

—

After that day, you begin seeking him out. You don’t approach him right away, preferring to to trail behind him for a little bit before finally making a move.

The move being a quiet: “Hi, Rick.”

Today’s no different, other than it being a little later when you do find him. He’s taking a little stroll around, as is his usual. It… settles him, to see everything alright with his own two eyes.

Settles him even more when he hears the quiet patter of your footsteps behind him.

He chuckles. “Afternoon, darlin’.”

Your foot steps speed up, fall into step somewhat beside him. “Hi, Rick.”

“Hi,” He says, smile tugging at his lips. “How was your day?”

You clasp your hands behind your back as you walk. “Good. Weren’t many walkers on today’s run. I got something for Judith.”

“Oh? Let’s see it, then.”

You take something out of your pocket and hold it out to him.

It’s a pocket knife. One of those multi-tool ones.

And it’s pink.

“I know it’s a cliche, the girls knife being pink, and she is only ten, but I saw it and I thought of her, and—“

“It’s perfect,” He interrupts before you can start spiraling. “She’s gonna love it.”

You deflate almost instantly. “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure.”

You walk for a few minutes before remembering the point of you coming up to him.

“Um. How was your day?”

He huffs a little, too fond to be upset. “Fairly decent. Ain’t got too much going on now.”

“That’s… good?”

He shrugs. “Just a little borin’. How’s that ankle of yours?”

This is usually how your conversations go. A few easy, back and forth questions. Easing you into talking to people, keeping conversations going. You’ve slowly gotten more confident. You talk a little longer, voice sounds a little more expressive.

“Fine.” You say, a little too quickly.

He narrows his eyes. “Really? No pain at all?”

It’s the looking away that sells it. You never look at him when you’re lying. Can’t stand to.

“No. It’s fine.”

He kicks his foot out a little, the toe of his boot just barely catching your ankle.

It’s a little more effective than he wanted. You let out a little yelp of pain and stumble forward, ankle almost immediately buckling.

He darts forward, catching you under the stomach with one arm.

You hang there a little, arms dangling.

“Fine, huh?” He hefts you up, so you’re back to standing upright, though now, visibly favoring your ankle. “So what’d the doctor tell you when I dropped you off?”

“Rest, ice, compression, and elevation.”

“And which of those four have you been ignorin’?”

“…”

“Hey,” He says, tapping the side of your jaw with two fingers. “Don’t lie to me.”

“All of them,” You wince, “I just didn’t want to be useless. I can walk on it fine. You haven’t even noticed until now!”

Your voice goes a little high at the end, a little desperate.

He thinks about how animals that are lower on the food rung don’t show pain. A deer will break a leg and keep walking until it drops, till it slows too much and something picks it off.

But you ain’t an animal, and nothing’s gonna pick you off.

“That’s true,” He says, “But that don’t make it right. You’re just prolonging the healing process.”

You look down. “…You were mad. I didn’t want to make you more upset by being useless.”

Ah. So that’s what it’s all about.

His approval, once again.

“I’d rather have you useless for a week than useless forever because you didn’t rest properly,” He ignores the hypocrisy of it, the fact that he’s ignored medical advice more times than he can count.

“I really am fine, mostly,” You say meekly, “It’s stopped hurting when I walk. It’s just a little unstable.”

“I still want you taking it easy for a little, you hear me?”

You nod.

“Nah,” He moves, standing in front of you, more than a little in your personal space, “I wanna hear you say it. Use your words.”

It’s a little test of sorts. To see how you’ll respond. What you’ll say. If you’ll listen.

You swallow, eyelashes fluttering. “I hear you. I understand.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Take it easy.”

“That’s right,” You’ve been nice and obedient, so he figures you deserve a little reward. “Good girl.”

He hears your sharp intake of breath, watches your eyes get a little glassy.

Aw, that’s all you wanted. Just wanted to be someone’s good girl.

His good girl.

He nods towards your place. “Get along, now. Do I have to walk you to your door?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll go. I will. Uh— bye.”

He watches you scamper away, gait a little uneven, hands clenched at your sides.

I can get used to this.

—

It becomes a little thing, after that.

When you’re not busy with your own responsibilities, you’re usually with him. Either right beside him, or trailing a few feet behind. Your company is quiet and calm, like waves from a lake lapping gently at the shore.

You also begin to settle in with the rest of the group. You’re still more inclined to be near Rick or, if he’s not available, Daryl, but once you become comfortable talking with people, Maggie and Glenn are quickly added to your slowly growing roster of safe people.

Judith has loved you ever since she found out that you’re the one who gave her the most beloved pink pocket knife, and enjoys babbling and talking your ear off about nothing the way that ten year olds do.

Carl grows to appreciate your presence too, finding solace in the fact that you don’t feel the need to fill silence with conversation.

You still act different when Rick is around, though. Especially when it’s just the two of you.

With everybody else, you’re subtly but very strictly independent- despite growing close with the group, you still maintain a slight distance with most of them, and prefer doing things yourself, by yourself. Old habits die hard, he supposes.

But when you’re alone, just Rick and you, those hard edges soften, and your little personal bubble pops. He’s steadily growing obsessed with the change.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Having such a cute little thing follow him around, hanging off his words. Most days, it’s all he can do not to throw you over his shoulder and carry you to bed.

And then one day, he does. Kind of.

It must be the middle of the night, but the second he hears the knock at his door, he’s wide awake.

He hushes both Carl and Judith back to bed, then creeps to the front door with his hand on his gun. He has never, in his entire life, been awoken in the middle of the night to good news.

When he opens the door he sees you. And Daryl, but he’s really focused on you. You’ve got tears streaming down your face, you’re wearing a strange combination of sleep clothes and the clothes he’s seen you wear to do runs. Your boots are on, but not tied.

“Wha—“

“Caught her sneaking towards the gates, all shaken up. Figured it’d be wiser to take her here then back to her place.”

Daryl pats your head once. “Don’t do anythin’ stupid.”

Then Daryl’s gone, and you’re standing on Rick’s porch, still crying.

“Alright, come here now.”

He barely manages to get the door closed before you fall into him, face pressed to his chest and hands grasping the front of his shirt.

He hesitates for just a moment before wrapping his arms around you.

“Shh, shh. You’re alright, you’re alright now.”

He presses one hand to the nape of your neck, keeping you tucked close as you crack, just a little bit, nearly silent tears staining his shirt and tremors wracking your body.

Eventually, he guides you over to the couch, situates himself before helping you into a more comfortable position. He wraps your arms around his neck, your legs draped across his lap and the couch.

He keeps one hand pressed to your neck, the other rubbing slow circles on your back.

He presses his cheek to the crown of your head, breathing in deep and slow, a curl of satisfaction rising in his chest when you unconsciously mimic his breathing, silent sobs slowing, tremors fading.

Once you’ve calmed down enough, he speaks.

“What’s got you so worked up, huh? What happened sweetheart?”

The pet name slips out of his mouth unbidden, but honestly, he wouldn’t take it back.

“Nightmare,” You sniffle. “Daryl was gone and it was my fault and you hated me.”

“Well, none of that happened now, did it?”

You shake your head.

“No, that’s right. Daryl’s just fine, and I ain’t upset with you. You’re alright.”

You take in a few shaky, shuddering breaths.

He shifts, readjusting and tucking you closer to him. “Now, how come you didn’t come to me? Daryl said you were headin’ to the gates.”

You go a little rigid. “Didn’t think I was allowed. Didn’t want to wake you up for something stupid.”

“Oh, none of that now,” He nudges you away a little, taking your face in his hands. He needs eye-contact while he says this, “You need something, you come to me. I don’t care what it is, I don’t care what time it is. You come to me, you understand?”

You nod, lip wobbling a bit. “I understand.”

He thumbs your cheekbone. “Good. Now come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”

In the morning, the kids are a little surprised to see your rumpled form at the kitchen table, but both recover fairly quickly. Judith especially, who rejoices at the prospect of someone other than Carl or her father whom she can hold hostage with inane, ten year old questions.

But you never quite shake that haunted look in your eyes. Like there was something else— something more in that nightmare, something that dug its little claws in and stuck fast.

It’s all he can do but pray it doesn’t last.

—

It becomes an unspoken thing that wherever Rick is, you’re nearby. Kind of like a little puppy, following him about and hoping for a treat.

He indulges you, because he can’t really help himself in the face of those eyes.

He also knows it’s the easiest way to get you to smile, which he’s been trying to bring about more, since the nightmare. You’ve shaken that haunted expression for the most part, but every now and then, it’ll come back, if just for a few moments.

You’ve been absent most of the day today, off on a run, and he wishes it didn’t get under his skin so much to not have his favorite girl right there behind him.

You’re his stress relief, and you don’t even know it. Don’t even do anything really, just kind of linger about with your adorable little face and occasionally help with your cute little hands. He’s hopelessly obsessed.

You’re smiling when you get back, bee-lining straight for him.

“Well, well,” He says, resting his hands on his hips, “What do we have here?”

“I got you something,” You say, practically vibrating with excitement, slinging your backpack off and rifling through it.

“Oh, something for me? Can’t wait to see it.”

You pull an honest to god polaroid camera out of your bag.

“You said once that you wished you had pictures of your kids to carry with you, and I found this, and it still works, and it still has film in it. I checked.”

You thrust it out to him, and he extracts it carefully from your hands, holding it with an almost reverence.

A camera. A working film camera.

You shuffle in place, and he realizes he’s been staring at it in silence for more than a few minutes. “…Do you like it?”

“I love it,” He says honestly, voice just a little scratchy, because he doesn’t understand how someone can survive the zombie apocalypse, and still end up so damn kind, and so damn sweet. “I’m so touched, sweetheart.”

You beam up at him. If you had a tail, you’d be wagging it. He’s never understood cuteness aggression until this very moment. He just can’t. He wants to squeeze you as hard as he can or just punch a wall or some stupid shit.

God, he’s pushing forty, he needs to get this under control.

“I was really excited when I found it. Tara took a picture of me to test it.”

You pull out a little polaroid picture, film developed, and he takes that with reverence too. In the picture, you’re smiling, that same soft, little smile you do when you’re really happy about something and don’t know how to express it. Your hands show two peace signs, a knife clutched in one.

That’s my girl, he thinks.

“Might just have to keep this,” He says, dumb smile on his face.

“Really?”

“Really. You know, it’s good luck to keep a picture of a pretty girl with you.”

“Pretty?” You squeak, flushing. It’s so easy to make you flustered. He loves it.

“Mhm,” He says, tucking the photo into one of the compartments on his belt, keeping it safe. “Real pretty, I’d say.”

“Oh.” You say, more than a little breathless. “Um.”

Oh, your poor little brain.

“You need a minute?” He snorts.

“Maybe?”

He chuckles, patting the top of your head. “Oh, you’ll be fine. Better get used to it.”

“You’re pretty too,” You blurt, then your eyes widen comically. “No, wait, I meant—“

He laughs, a real, actual laugh. “Me, a grown ass man- pretty. That’s a good one.”

You bury your face in your hands, a tiny little whine escaping your throat.

“Aw, come on, now. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m very flattered you think I’m pretty.”

“S’ not what I meant.” You mumble.

“No?” He says, prying your hands off your face. “What’d you mean, then?”

You look away, unable to meet his eyes.

“You’re… handsome.” You whisper the last part, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Aw, what’d I do to deserve a young thing like you thinking an old man like me is handsome?”

You mumble something again, a little too quiet for him to hear.

“…afe.”

He leans down. “What was that, now?”

“You’re safe.”

Oh.

That’s… not the answer he was expecting.

But he likes it.

Rick is a leader. A protector.

And you need him.

“I make you feel safe?” He hums, resisting the urge to step closer to you because you’re very much out in the open and he knows how you feel about wide open spaces, especially when there’s people in them. He’s torturing you enough as it is. “That why you linger around me, huh?”

Feeling bolder at his interest, you nod.

“You make me feel like… something special. Protected.”

Yes.

He’s always known that he needs to be needed. That he’s the kind of man who requires being a leader, taking care of what’s his, protecting.

To have verbal confirmation that he’s made you feel safe, protected, it’s.

Well it’s a lot more than he can unpack in front of the gates.

“Pretty little thing like you needs protectin’.”

You frown.

“Not because you’re incapable,” He amends, hands raised, “But because I rather like doing it.”

You lean closer, and he follows, heat rising—

“Please, save us all the pain of havin’ to watch, Rick.”

He grins, nose brushing yours, then steps back.

“Maybe stop creepin’ around, Daryl.” He calls to the other man, who just shrugs, ambling on by.

But Daryl does have a point. He doesn’t want an audience. You’re not that kind of girl.

Instead, he reaches down, snakes an arm around your waist and leads you away from the open space, towards his house instead.

“Come on, sweetheart. Think you’d rather be somewhere quiet for what I’m about to do.”

The heat radiating from your body and the shiver he feels under his palm is all the confirmation he needs.

His little fawn, finally his.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

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humanjarvis · 4 months ago

Text

my happy is your happy

synopsis: luke thinks sylus should make more friends. but does he really need them?

tags: fluff, kinda comfort?, unintentional family dynamics (idk what came over me i didn’t expect that to happen), potential unrealistic use of sylus’s evol bc what does “energy manipulation” even mean, reader is protective of sylus, sylus overhears, asterisks to denote pov shifts bc i didn't want to use dividers pairing: sylus x reader word count: 774

a/n: it’s been like 2 days of people calling sylus a friendless loser on twitter and that’s fine but IIIII don’t think ur a loser, sylus. wrote this on a whim in the last 2 hours, questionably proofread

“Have you ever noticed that Boss doesn’t have any friends?” Luke’s youthful voice rings out, putting a swift end to your peaceful night of reading on the couch.

Folding your half-finished book over your lap, you look up at his masked face, raising an eyebrow. “He has you.”

Luke scoffs. “I don’t count, obviously.”

“He has Kieran.”

“We’re practically the same person. Try again,” he says, waving a hand dismissively.

“…He has Mephisto,” you offer, an innocent grin on your face.

He doesn’t even dignify that one with a response.

“He's still in his 20s, for God’s sake! Don’t you think he should go out more? Party a little, meet some new people?” Luke asks, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“Not if he doesn’t think he needs to,” you say simply.

***

Sylus had just stepped out of the shower when he overheard your tired voice from the living room. Not if I don’t think I need to…what? he ponders, mulling over the possibilities. Increase their monthly allowance? Install lasers into Mephisto’s eyes? Entrust Onychinus to the twins in my will?

“But no friends?” Luke asks dramatically, snapping Sylus out of his thoughts. “None? Not even one?”

Oh, Sylus thinks. That.

Realizing you were defending his…comfortable lifestyle, Sylus feels something warm and tight and slightly wistful squeeze in his chest. Smiling to himself, he shrouds his body in the dark wisps of his Evol and moves closer, watching the rest of your conversation with interest.

***

Exasperated, you run a hand through your hair. “Luke, I think you’re overthinking this. Not everyone wants to go out and party and meet people. What about Sylus makes you think he wants to go out and party and meet people? You put him in a room full of cheap club music and cheaper beer, and he’s going to evaporate into thin air. Or cause a mass casualty incident,” you say, only to be met with silence.

Sighing, you start again. “Look, I understand that you care about him and want to make sure he’s happy—I do too—but Sylus’s happy isn’t Luke’s happy. It isn’t Kieran’s happy, or Mephisto’s happy, or even my happy. It’s his. He’s the only one who can decide what makes him happy, and he’s the only one who can decide if he is or not.”

When Luke’s mask droops—a telltale sign of a pout appearing—you switch tactics. “And maybe it’s not that he doesn’t have friends. Maybe you guys are just enough for him—did you ever think about that?”

At this, the beak of his mask perks back up, and you know you’ve got him.

“You think we’re…enough for him?” he asks, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You nod.

And then you try to ignore the way his hands twitch in excitement, fighting with all you have to keep your giggle from surfacing.

“That’s…” he clears his throat. “You know what? You’re right, Y/N, my bad. You’re really smart, you know,” Luke responds gruffly, an incriminating wobble in his voice.

Smiling, you stand up to pat his hooded head. “I know.”

“Well,” he starts, a new vigor in his steps as he heads toward the door. “I’m gonna go find Kieran. We just got this huge shipment of explosives that w—”

“Nope!” you interrupt. “You’re not getting me in trouble again. The less I know, the better.”

Shrugging, Luke disappears into the hallway, and you shake your head fondly.

“What a heartwarming conversation,” a deep voice rings out.

Jumping from shock, you whip your head around. “Sylus?!” you whisper-yell. “How long have you been there?!”

Emerging from the shadows of the bedroom behind you, Sylus strolls toward you, a soft smirk on his face.

“Just long enough to hear your passionate defense of me,” he quips, wrapping an arm around your waist. “How much is your lawyer fee?”

Embarrassed, you swat his chest, bowing your head slightly. “I know he meant well, but I just…don’t like it when people try to take your life out of your hands,” you admit quietly. “It makes me sad.”

“Well we can’t have that, can we, kitten?” he rumbles, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “Let me cheer you up—I very much enjoyed hearing you speak up for me.”

Lifting your head up, you look into his warm garnet eyes. “You did?”

“Mm,” he hums, pulling you closer. “I do hate cheap beer, and you all are enough for me. You know me very well,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“But for all your expertise, you were wrong about one thing,” he whispers against you. “My happy is your happy.”

#iris writes #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace comfort #sylus fluff #sylus comfort #lads #lads x reader #lads sylus #lnds #lnds x reader #lnds sylus #sylus qin #lads fluff #lads comfort

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joeyfranchise · 9 months ago

Text

cuz you know that it’s delicate

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: what happens when joe’s teammate slips a joke about your size difference and it sends you spiraling? being in love with joe since college has been tough but what happens when he starts figuring it out and trying to unravel you more?

warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, MDNI. heaaaavy size kink, joe being a smartass should be it’s own warning, language, p in v, fingering, oral (f. receiving), roughness. probably more? this one was so much fun, plzzz stick around til the end. 🤭

word count: 3.1k!

note: heyyy everyone! my first joey smut 🤭 i hope y’all love it and again MDNI!! (shoutout to my boo @slimshiesty, hate me later and that stray ball part is rotting in my brain, so i snuck a lil of it in here as an ode to you. ily bbg. 💗) (also another taylor swift title bc i fr couldn’t think of anything else plus i used it a bit.. i swear i’m not trying to steal anyones thing i love all the joey swifties)

tags: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 (plz message me or send an ask to be added!) part 2

sexual frustration has to be one of the worst things in the world. sexual frustration at the hands of your best friend, however, takes the cake.

it started at a party two weeks ago when you were invited out by joe, the star nfl quarterback, certified dweeb, and your very best friend all wrapped into one.

flashback

you were sitting around with joe and some of his teammates, listening in on their conversations and people watching the rest of the time. it was easiest for you to hang out with joe and ja’marr since you knew them from college, but the rest of their teammates and their teammates partners were really cool too, and all so welcoming to you.

everyone was laughing and joking, having a laid back time, picking on each other for random things. that was, until, someone mentioned how funny it was to see you standing next to joe, being that he was well over a foot taller than you.

“what? how’s it funny?” joe asked, glancing between you and his teammate. “because you make her look so tiny! like a little doll. get up and stand next to each other.”

you were reluctant to move from your seat, hating where this was leading. it was already hard enough having feelings for your best friend over the span of a few years, but this was crossing dangerous territory. kink territory.

for you, there was something about how much bigger than you joe was. he towered over you. his body was lean but built with thick muscles. he could quite literally pick you up and sling you around like a rag-doll. (and honestly if he did, you’d thank him.)

you hoped his teammate pointing out your size difference wouldn’t be turned into a big deal, but once joe pulled you out of your chair to stand next to him, it was like the gates of hell opened.

you stood side by side, your head barely even reaching his armpit. everyone around the table laughed, including joe. “damn, i guess i never really focused on how little you are, y/n.” joe laughed, and placed his forearm on top of your head like an armrest.

alarms went off in your head. ABORT MISSION. ABORT MISSION.

you cleared your throat quickly, and came to your senses, shoving joe off before getting back into your seat. “maybe i’m not small, maybe you’re just a freakishly large man.” you remark, trying to keep your voice even.

“nah,” he replied, sitting down next to you again, “you’re sooooo tiny.” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you flipped him the finger. “fuck you big bird.” you snarked before downing the rest of your drink. god knows you need it. you hoped that your pink cheeks would be chalked up to the alcohol and that nobody else had caught on.

the next instance came a few days later, on a sunday, and it was much worse than the first. so, so much worse.

flashback to sunday

you came to the bengals’ home stadium to watch their game, and since it was early you figured you’d go down to the field to say hi to joe and some of your other friends on the team.

you made it down and waved hi to ja’marr, tee and sam before making your way to joe. he spotted you and smiled, walking in your direction to meet you halfway.

you decided on wearing one of his jerseys and a pair of jeans, something simple and comfortable. as soon as he made it to you, the first thing he did was look you up and down and then pick up the sleeve of the jersey before chuckling.

“damn, this thing is swallowing you!” he comments. you playfully smack at his arm. “shut up, joey.”

“it’s cute, though. you look nice. are you excited for the game?”

you don’t give yourself much time to process that “cute” comment. wtf does that even mean? who cares. ABORT MISSION.

“of course i’m excited! i can’t wait to watch you guys kick some ass today—“

your sentence is cut off abruptly as joe grabs you and lifts you, turning your bodies so his back is now facing the opposite direction on the field. his grip on you is so tight that your chest is pressed into his stomach. you look up at his face, his expression a mix between anger and concern. you can feel your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen in disbelief.

“um, joe, you’re bear hugging the hell out of me right now. wanna put me down and explain what happened?”

he lets you down gently, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “stray ball was coming right at you. i didn’t want it to hit you, it would’ve hurt you pretty bad.”

you reach a hand up and pat his chest, feeling the thick muscles. “thank you!” you respond, once again monitoring your tone. “i’m gonna head up and talk to everyone, ok?” you ask, already moving to leave. “yeah, ok.” joe says, focusing his attention on the ground. you can tell he’s contemplating something, but you don’t want to ask. you want to get out of there as quickly as possible.

the final instance came a few days later when you went to joe’s house just to hang out and have dinner.

flashback to wednesday night

you park your car in joe’s garage and step out, tucking your phone and keys in your pocket before heading up the stairs. before you make it to the door, joe’s already opening it and waiting in the doorway.

“hi bub!” you call, pushing past him and stepping inside, kicking off your shoes by the door. he greets you back sweetly and the two of you go sit on barstools in the kitchen, just catching up on things that have gone on this week. you rant to joe about your job and he listens intently, offering what advice he can.

he rants back to you about things going on with the team, and frustrations he’s having on the field. you try to return the favor and offer him some advice, but you know you aren’t of too much help. joe appreciates it regardless.

soon after your food arrives, you find yourselves in the living room, sitting on the couch side by side as a movie plays. you and joe always loved just being around each other, you had so deep of a connection that oftentimes words didn’t need to be shared at all.

you both enjoyed those moments.

you felt yourself starting to doze off until joe laughed at something in the movie, the sound waking you a bit.

“oh, sorry. you can go to sleep.” he whispers, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. you appreciate his warmth and you rub your head on his shoulder as you get comfy. you hear joe chuckle.

“what’s funny?” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “it’s like i’m hyper-aware now of how small you are next to me. it’s so cute.”

you make no outward moves or sounds, but inside you are screaming. yelling. this is the worst one yet.

you don’t know it yet, but joe’s figured it out. he’s seen you get flustered three times now over these comments, and he knows something is going on in your brain when they’re said. he isn’t aware if you have feelings for him like he does for you, but he knows you liked when he picked you up so easily on the field the other day.

it was effortless to him, despite what you might think of yourself.

you sit next to him in silence, eyes still closed, trying to control your breathing. just try to fall asleep again you tell yourself, hoping that joe has no idea. if you only knew.

when you wake in the morning, you’re still snuggled on the couch with him as the soft morning light shines gold around the living room. you shake him awake.

“joey, i gotta get going. i need to go home and get ready for work and you have thursday practice.”

he pulls you in closer for a moment, hugging you bye, and then wishes you a good day at work. you bolt out the door and to your car as fast as you can, heading home to wash the previous day away in the shower.

end of flashbacks

so, this is where you are now.

it’s been almost a week since you’ve talked to joe, avoiding him because you aren’t sure what to say or do. part of you knows he has something figured out, but you don’t know what or how much.

you’re terrified to let him in on your feelings, what’s going on in your head, because you’re delicate and you don’t want to ruin something that has always been there for you.

the other part of you knows you have to tell him, you need to tell him. you love him, you lust after him. the comments that keep being made about your sizes are driving you to the point of insanity that nothing will fix it unless joe manhandles you as rough as you can take it and he fucks it out of you.

you’re pretty sure your vibrator is gonna be on its last leg soon.

alright, i gotta call him. i gotta get this over with.

you grab your phone off the kitchen counter and dial his number, listening to it ring for a few moments.

“hello?” he finally answers, sounding a bit upset.

“hey joey. sorry i haven’t been talking to you this week. i just— i think i need to talk to you about some stuff and.. would you mind coming over later?”

he says nothing for a moment, but you hear him blow out a long breath. “yeah, of course, y/n.” he finally says. “i can be over around 7?”

you check the clock on the stove, it reads 4:34pm.

“7 sounds great! see you then!” you say, hanging up quickly. now you play the waiting game.

all your chores are done, and you take a lovely everything shower to help calm your nerves, and you make sure to drink plenty of water and have a snack as you tell yourself affirmations.

it’s going to be okay, he’s my best friend. he will understand. he will still be my friend regardless, he’s always been there for me. if he rejects me, nothing will change that.

you sit on the couch and scroll your phone as you wait. there’s still just a bit over an hour before joey will arrive, so you waste time scrolling tiktok, cozy on the couch.

soon enough you hear the doorbell, and you jump off the couch to answer it, stepping aside to let joe in.

he sits on your couch, waiting for you to join him and start speaking. “joe, i, um.. i hav-“

he cuts you off. “you have feelings for me? you like it when people compare our sizes because it turns you on?” he smirks, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. he’s manspreading now, his thick thighs on full display. your mouth falls open for a moment.

“yeah. essentially exactly that.” you finally reply.

“so what are we gonna do about that?” he questions, pulling you into his lap. you place your hands on his chest instinctively, and before you know what’s happening he‘s pulling you in for a heated kiss.

his lips are soft against yours and he gently prods at your bottom lip, sliding his tongue past as you open it. he tastes like mint, it’s intoxicating you. one minute his large hands are splayed over your back holding you to him, the next he’s lifting you off the couch by grabbing underneath your armpits and carrying you down the hall, roughly body-slamming you on the bed.

“dude, save the UFC moves for ja’marr!” you groan, sucking in a large breath. joe jumps on the bed, caging you in by placing his knees on either side of your hips and his hands next to your head.

“no, i don’t think so.” he smirks, leaning in closer until your noses are nearly touching. you felt your cheeks heating up at his close proximity, and his eye-contact with you was starting to feel intimidating, even though you had just been sharing such a passionate kiss. you hated that you could feel your wetness soaking through your panties just from him trying to wrestle you.

he blows gently on your face and you shove at him. he laughs you off and leans even closer, pressing the tip of his nose to yours before moving away and leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“this would be a lot easier if you’d just admit that you want me to manhandle you. you want me to go rough, right?” he teases. you’ve had enough of his smugness. you grab the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss, tugging at his hair and nipping his bottom lip. he groans into you. he stands from the bed, picking you up again, carrying you across the room before roughly slamming your body against the wall.

you let out a strangled moan, loving the feeling of him using all his strength on you.

“can i take your shorts off?” he asks, looking into your eyes.

“fuck yes, please.” you breathe out, exhilarated.

joe yanks your shorts and panties down your legs in one swift motion, kneeling down in front of you. he’s able to keep your body held up and pressed against the wall. he looks up at you with questioning eyes, making sure this is okay. you give him a soft nod in response.

he leans in and throws one of your legs over his shoulder. he starts by pressing the smallest kiss to your clit, and then licks a slow, languid stripe up your core. you hiss, your body arching off the wall at the new sensation. when you look down, you find him looking up at you, his beautiful blue eyes trained on your face.

your eyes roll back in your head as he continues his ministrations. you feel the hand that isn’t holding you against the wall rubbing circles on your inner thigh before joe slowly slips a finger into you.

you quickly approach your orgasm, your stomach tight with anticipation. joe doesn’t let up, working you there until your body feels like it’s being dunked into warm bath water, the feeling covering you from head to toe. it takes you a minute to regain your sense of self. joe pulls his fingers from your core and removes your leg from his shoulder, standing back up before lifting you so your legs are around his waist.

you waste no time pulling him in for a kiss. “holy shit, joey!” you moan, baffled at what just happened. he smirks into your kiss.

for the second time, you’re thrown onto the bed. you sit up, propped on your elbows as you watch joe stalk closer, his erection very obvious in his shorts. he pulls his shirt over his head and you do the same, unclasping your bra just after so that you’re completely bare for him.

you chalk your forwardness up to being comfortable with him, normally you wouldn’t have the confidence to act this way. neither would joe, actually, but you shrug it off.

you don’t remember seeing him strip his shorts off or climb on top of you, but you know you’re kissing him again. you can’t get over how good his lips feel. one of his hands traces your curves, he runs his fingers along your body until his large hand is cupping your breast.

he moves his kisses to your neck and you gasp, reveling in the feeling of him kissing and touching you softly and sweetly.

you look down at his throbbing cock and suddenly you feel intimidated. joe hears you gasp. he lets out a soft laugh.

“don’t talk a big game and then act scared of it, baby.” he teases, pressing light kisses to your cheeks. you swallow thickly.

joe reaches down and strokes himself, spitting on his hand to slick himself up. he looks at you once again for confirmation, and you nod to him. he helps you get comfortable beneath him, positioning your legs around his waist as he pushes his tip in. you suck in a harsh breath.

it stings, but it isn’t the worst thing. he moves against you slowly, sliding in inch by inch until he bottoms out. he looks down and you, your faces inches apart, and you giggle.

“what is it bub?” he asks, smiling softly. “they weren’t kidding calling you big dick joe.” you laugh out. joe laughs too.

after giving you a few minutes to adjust, he starts moving hips, rocking into yours slowly. you think this is what the peak of euphoria feels like.

he leans back down to kiss you, his hand finding your throat and squeezing ever so slightly. your back is arched, your chest pressed to his as your hands tangle through his hair. his hands move down, finding your hips and holding them down to the bed. you moan at the rough grip.

he starts going harder, his hips pistoning into yours as you continue kissing, both of you moaning out your pleasure.

“joey, i-i’m close.” you warn, your body covered in a sheen of sweat. you felt it again, you were so close to that warmth once again pulsing over your body.

until.

knock knock knock.

what was that? you thought. you tried to focus on joe but everything seemed to be slipping away.

then, there it was again. the knocking. and the shrill of your phone ringing.

you startled awake, sweat covering your body. you looked at your phone screen. 7:10pm. one missed call from joe.

you threw your throw blanket off, trying to gather your thoughts. what the fuck? what is happening?

you thought you’d just had the best fuck of your life, that everything would be okay with you and joe but… it was just a dream? you dozed off and you didn’t even know it.

“y/n, let me in!” you hear joe yell from the opposite side of the door. you’re panicking, your body is hot, your clothes are stuck to you. still, you get up and almost sprint to the door. you open it, taking in his appearance. just like your dream.

black shorts, black shirt. backwards cap.

“can i come in? are you okay?” he asks. you watch as he takes in your appearance. sweaty hair stuck to your neck, your eyes glazed over.

“um, yeah joe. i’m okay. come in.” you step aside, inviting him in, just like your dream. he sits down.

“so, what did you wanna talk about?” he asks. you sit down next to him, blowing out a long breath. this was gonna be a longggg conversation.

2K notes · View notes

cheftsunoda · 15 days ago

Note

Hi!!! I adore your poly works so much so i was wondering if you could do a russell x reader x albon smau fic. But HEAR ME OUT george and reader have been dating for years (ever since he was in williams) and obvs are super close with alex to the point the three of them often playfully flirt and stuff, so everyone suspects something’s going on. And alex is obviously in love with both of them but reader and george think he’s just joking around until one day they realize alex loves them and they kinda love him too. So anyway they end up happily dating and everyone in the paddock is relieved lol.

about time — gr63 + aa23

smau + blurbs

george russell x !nurse norris reader x alex albon

yn and george have rarely existed as just a duo—because wherever they go, alex is never far behind. their so called third wheel, their partner in crime, their constant. what alex has kept hidden for years, though, are the deep feelings he harbors for both of them. he has convinced himself it’s better that way—safer to stay quiet, to play the role of the best friend, the flirty buffer. what he doesn’t know is that yn and george feel the same. and what none of them realize… is that everyone else already knows.

fc : jazmynmakenna on ig and used some pics of carms and lily

(a/n) : tyyyy for the love! such a cute idea <3

—

yn_norris

liked by georgerussell63, alexalbon, lando & 5,002,007 others.

yn_norris : photo dump from an overworked, underpaid and tired nurse. (ft the necessary alex pic bc if i post a dump without him everyone assumes we had a friendship break up)

tagged : alexalbon and georgerussell63

—

view 175,090 other comments.

alexalbon : i’m flattered to be included but i’d like to campaign for more than one photo next time. i’m the fan favorite.

liked by yn_norris and georgerussell63

↳ yn_norris : i can make a whole account dedicated to you with how many pictures are in my alex folder

liked by alexalbon

↳ alexalbon : honestly that account might be more popular than your own

liked by yn_norris

↳ yn_norris : sassy king apocalypse has taken over the paddock. first, george, then lando and now you. sigh.

liked by georgerussell63, alexalbon and lando

↳ georgerussell63 : i prefer the term witty

liked by yn_norris, alexalbon and lando

username00 : yn can both of your boyfriends fight?? i want you

liked by yn_norris

↳ yn_norris : george may be all posh and brit but he is ready to swing at anytime

liked by georgerussell63 and alexalbon

↳ yn_norris : and alex, my sweet little cinnamon bun, will quite literally not even kill a spider bc “it has a family too”

liked by georgerussell63 and alexalbon

↳ alexalbon : @/username00 i may not fight but i will send someone to your location that can.

liked by georgerussell63 and yn_norris

↳ username1 : the way she didn’t deny Alex was her boyfriend??? and instead called him a little cinnamon bun

lando : stop posting your aesthetic cute pictures from work. show the real you. like the gremlin I saw at the nurses station at 3 am when I brought you coffee. cheeto fingers, eye bags and all.

liked by yn_norris

↳ georgerussell63 : ive seen that 3am gremlin. id still risk it all. even with the cheeto dust

liked by yn_norris

↳ lando : you need help

↳ alexalbon : the cutest gremlin ive ever seen

liked by yn_norris

↳ lando : and you need even more help.

username0 : ynnnnnn. fave 2019 rookie??? (yes I am asking you to pick between your brother and both of your men)

liked by yn_norris

↳ yn_norris : legally i am required to say lando.

liked by georgerussell63, alexalbon and lando

↳ lando : damn right. i’ve got baby photos and blackmail material. tread carefully.

↳ yn_norris : but emotionally? alex. physically? george.

liked by alexalbon

↳ georgerussell63 : I won a category but I still feel like I lost

liked by yn_norris

↳ yn_norris : you won where it counts, baby. don’t be greedy.

liked by georgerussell63

↳ lando : BARF. just say you love me the most and move on.

liked by yn_norris

franciscagomes : omg. cough. im sick. i need this smokin hot nurse to come take care of me rn😷🤭

liked by yn_norris

↳ yn_norris : omw! got something that’ll fix you right up bae 😈

liked by franciscagomes

↳ pierregasly : HEY. you alr have two boyfriends. take your advice and don’t be greedy, norris.

↳ yn_norris : mind your business baldpine #1

liked by lando

—

your pov

The fluorescent lights above me flickered one too many times as I signed out for the night. My back ached, my scrubs were wrinkled, and I was 97% sure there was dry formula in my hair. Twelve hours, four codes, and one toddler with a death grip on my ponytail later—I was done.

The sliding doors whooshed open and cold night air wrapped around me like a sigh. I blinked up at the parking lot, expecting the usual quiet walk to my car and maybe crying to a podcast on the way home.

But instead, parked in front of the hospital like they owned the place, were my boys.

George was leaning against the passenger side of Alex’s car, arms crossed and hair tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for the last ten minutes. Alex was in the driver’s seat, scrolling through something on his phone with the windows down and music playing softly—my playlist.

“Hi!” George called when he spotted me, that big, exhausted grin of his lighting up his face. “We come bearing gifts.”

I didn’t even have the energy to be dramatic about it. I just dropped my bag to the ground and walked straight into George’s arms.

“I hate everyone except you two,” I mumbled into his chest.

“We know,” he laughed, kissing the top of my head. “That’s why we came prepared.”

Alex popped the trunk and hopped out. “Ta-da,” he said, gesturing like a magician.

Inside were— my favorite snacks including the weird gummy worms only one petrol station sells, an iced coffee from that place across town, a cozy hoodie I’d stolen from George and they’d returned freshly washed, and a heated blanket plugged into the car. There was even a tiny bottle of micellar water and cotton pads.

“I don’t deserve you,” I whispered.

George grabbed my bag. Alex opened the car door for me. And without even asking, they handed me the coffee, tucked me into the blanket, and turned on the seat heater.

“You saved lives today,” Alex said, buckling me in. “We’re just here to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

George climbed into the backseat beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Rest now, nurse. You’re off duty.”

I didn’t say anything—I just reached for both their hands. And for the first time that day, I breathed. The coffee cup was half-empty in my hand, my head resting on George’s shoulder, his thumb gently tracing circles over the back of my hand. Alex was humming along to the music—quiet, low, and warm—and I only caught snippets of their conversation as the car rolled through the near-empty streets.

At some point, my eyes fluttered shut. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but exhaustion settled into my bones like sand and the rhythm of their voices was just too soothing. The next thing I registered was the car slowing to a stop and the faint click of a seatbelt unbuckling. I think I mumbled something. Or tried to.

“Shh,” Alex whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “You’re okay, love. Go back to sleep.”

Then I felt it—his arms slipping beneath me, lifting me like I weighed nothing. The scent of his hoodie, the soft rumble of his voice close to my ear. George’s footsteps behind us. A door opening. Warmth. Home. I stirred slightly as he carried me up the stairs, but Alex just held me tighter.

“You guys didn’t have to come,” I slurred, barely audible.

George was ahead of us, flipping on the bedroom light, already pulling the covers back. “Shut up and let us love you,” he said with a sleepy smile.

Alex laid me down gently, brushing a kiss over my forehead before sitting on the edge of the bed to untie my shoes. George helped me out of my hoodie and pulled the blankets up around me with such tenderness I nearly cried.

“Come here,” I mumbled, blindly reaching for them.

They didn’t need asking twice. George slid in on my left, Alex on my right, both of them instantly folding around me like I was the center of the universe. My head rested on George’s chest, one hand tangled in Alex’s shirt. I felt safe. Held. Home.

“I’ve got early rounds tomorrow,” I murmured.

“We’ll set an alarm,” George whispered, already half-asleep.

“I’ll make you breakfast,” Alex added, rubbing my back in slow, lazy strokes.

I smiled, finally letting the last of the tension leave my body. Surrounded by the two people I loved most in the world, I fell asleep again—warm, safe, and exactly where I belonged.

—

lando’s pov

It wasn’t that unusual not to hear from YN right after a shift—sometimes she passed out for hours, sometimes she called me mid-breakfast while still wearing her scrubs and eating cereal out of a measuring cup. But tonight… something felt off. I waited. And waited. No texts. No memes. No updates. Nothing.So naturally, I panicked like any good brother would. I used the spare key she pretends she doesn’t know I have.

Her apartment was dark and quiet, which would normally be comforting, except every light in the hallway was off and I could hear soft music playing from her bedroom. I dropped the takeout I brought for her on the kitchen counter, tiptoed toward the door, and slowly pushed it open—And froze.

There, tangled in her sheets, were both George and Alex. George was sitting up against the headboard, shirtless, with YN tucked into his side. Alex was lying on her other side, awake and half-asleep, scrolling on his phone like this was completely normal.

Which, apparently, it was. They both looked up at me. Paused. I stared. Blinked. Held up a hand.

“Before I start yelling… is she alive?”

George gave me a sleepy smile. “Sleeping like a log.”

Alex waved, entirely too casual. “She fell asleep in the car. Long shift. We brought her back. I carried her in.”

I stared harder. “Why are you here?”

“I live ten minutes away and she fell asleep on me,” Alex said, shrugging. “And drooled on me. So it felt serious.”

“I’m going to kill you both,” I muttered.

Then YN stirred a little in her sleep, nuzzling closer to George, one of her hands fisting the fabric of Alex’s shirt like she was anchoring herself to him. And the worst part? They both melted. Alex immediately adjusted the blanket over her shoulder. George smoothed her hair back like it was instinct.

“Okay, never mind. I’m not gonna kill you,” I said, voice flat. “I’m gonna throw up.”

Alex gave me a look. “You brought food?”

I turned on my heel. “I’m leaving. This is cursed.”

George called after me, barely containing his laughter. “We’ll tell her you came for a visit, yeah?”

“Shut up!” I yelled from the hallway. “And I want the Tupperware back!”

—

your pov

The first thing I felt was warmth. Not just from the blankets cocooned around me, or the sun peeking through the curtains, but from the steady rise and fall of George’s chest beneath my cheek. His arm was draped around my waist like a seatbelt, keeping me tucked against him, his breath slow and even against my hair. For a second, I let myself stay there—limbs tangled, heart full, sleep still clinging to the edges of my mind. Then the scent hit me. Coffee. Toast. Something vaguely maple-y. Something… Alex. I smiled before my eyes even opened fully.

George stirred behind me, shifting just enough to press a kiss to my shoulder. “Mmm. Morning, baby.”

“Morning,” I mumbled, voice still scratchy. “Alex is cooking.”

There was a pause. Then George snorted, pulling me closer again. “God help us.”

I giggled into his chest, burying my face against his skin. “He’s gotten better.”

“He literally burned oatmeal.”

“I like my oatmeal crispy,” I murmured, and he groaned.

“You’re just biased because he worships you.”

From the kitchen, we could hear Alex singing softly under his breath. I recognized the song—it was the one I always played when I was making breakfast for them. My heart tugged a little at the sound. Everything about this moment felt so us.

George yawned. “We can go help him in a minute.”

“I’m comfy.”

“I’m not moving.”

“I might love you.”

He kissed my hair. “Might?”

Another clatter from the kitchen. A muffled “I’m fine!” from Alex.

I smiled again. “Okay, do you want him to burn the place down?”

George groaned, finally stretching. “Fine. But only because I think he’s trying to make the fancy eggs you like and I don’t trust him with a whisk.”

He rolled out of bed with all the grace of a sleepy golden retriever and offered me his hand. I took it, still wrapped in blankets, and shuffled behind him like a burrito.

We walked into the kitchen to find Alex—shirt rumpled, hair a mess—very proudly plating something that resembled food.

“I made breakfast!” he announced, holding up a pan with far too much confidence.

“You made smoke,” George replied, rubbing at his eyes.

“I made love in breakfast form,” Alex argued.

I leaned into the doorframe and smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. “You guys are idiots.”

Alex turned and grinned at me. “But we’re your idiots.”

God help me—I really was in love with both of them.

—

I was halfway through my very questionably cooked eggs, still wearing George’s t-shirt and wrapped in the blanket I’d dragged from the bed, when I realized both of them were staring at me. Too intently.

“What?” I asked through a mouthful. “Do I have egg on my face?”

“No,” George said slowly, smiling like he was up to something.

Alex was practically vibrating with excitement. “You know how you thought you had a shift today?”

I froze. “Yeah…”

George reached behind him and grabbed my phone, placing it on the table like it was a trap. “Check your schedule.”

I raised an eyebrow, swiped it open, and blinked.

[Schedule updated – you are no longer working today.]

“What. Did. You. Do.”

Alex gasped. “Excuse you. We did something wonderful.”

George took my plate before I could throw it. “We may or may not have called in a favor with the scheduling supervisor. Something about ‘nurse burnout statistics.’”

I stared at them.

“You manipulated hospital management?��

George shrugged. “You work so hard, love. You never take a real break. You needed one.”

“And we figured,” Alex added, holding up a duffel bag triumphantly, “why waste a perfectly good day off when we can turn it into an adventure?”

I blinked, still processing.

“We have a full itinerary,” George said proudly. “Spa appointment at noon, your favorite bakery at 1:30, then we’re going to the zoo, then driving out of the city for a little bit.”

Alex wiggled his brows. “Picnic included. And a disposable camera. And George packed the card game you always cheat at.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Tried not to cry into the blanket.

“You canceled my shift and planned a perfect day because…?”

“Because we love you, dummy,” Alex said, stepping forward to kiss my forehead.

“Because you take care of everyone else all the time,” George added, arms wrapping around my waist from behind. “Now it’s our turn.”

I just stood there, overwhelmed, two sets of arms wrapped around me, my face squished between kisses and soft fabric.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Let me go shower and find something cute to wear.”

Alex lit up. “Matching outfits???”

“Let’s not push it,” I muttered, hiding a smile as I slipped out of their arms.

Still—the warmth stayed. A day off. My boys. A field of sunflowers. I couldn’t have dreamed up anything better.

—

I’ve never been so clean and so judged at the same time. George was wearing a robe like it was custom-tailored to his soul—relaxed, smug, prince energy radiating off him like mist from the eucalyptus steam room. Alex, on the other hand, had immediately broken every spa rule known to man. He wore the complimentary slippers with socks, brought in his own music, and accidentally drank my infused water because “it tastes better than the one they gave him.”

“You’re impossible,” I said as he handed me back my empty lemon-cucumber glass.

“You love me,” he shot back, laying across the lounge chair next to mine like a sleepy golden retriever.

George leaned over from his own chair and brushed a kiss to my temple. “To be fair, yours had more cucumbers than his did.”

“Traitor.”

George smiled. “You’re glowing. I’d do anything to see you this relaxed.”

I sank deeper into the plush chair, wrapped in my robe, skin still warm from the facial I just got, and sighed. “Okay, maybe I’m not mad about this surprise.”

“Maybe?” Alex gasped dramatically. “Ma’am, you moaned during your massage.”

“I did not—”

“You definitely did,” George nodded. “I was on the next table. Thought I’d have to ask them to stop before it became inappropriate.”

“I hate both of you.”

“Lies,” they said in unison, and I couldn’t help it—I burst out laughing.

Alex shifted closer and gently placed a hand over mine, a rare moment of calm settling in. “You really needed this, YN.”

George’s thumb ran along my wrist. “You give so much. You forget to keep anything for yourself.”

I blinked.

“I’m okay, you know?” I whispered. “Just tired.”

“And we’re here,” George said softly. “Always.”

“We’re gonna spoil the hell out of you today,” Alex added, grinning. “And then maybe make George pay for dinner later. Princesses shouldn’t have to open her wallet.”

I laughed again and squeezed both their hands.

There was something so safe in the way they looked at me—in the way they’d planned all this just to see me breathe. For once, I wasn’t rushing. I wasn’t on edge or bracing for a night shift or another exhausting day. I was just… here. Loved. At peace.

“Okay,” I said, straightening up with mock determination. “What’s next? Body wrap? More lemon water? Can someone fan me like a Roman empress?”

Alex was already reaching for the complimentary spa fan. “Your wish, my queen.”

George rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. And so was I.

—

The spa glow hadn’t even worn off yet by the time we pulled up to my favorite little corner bakery—the one with the pastel pink awning, the windows always fogged from fresh bread, and the dangerously addictive almond croissants.

Alex practically fell out of the car when he spotted the sign. “This is the one, right? The croissants that made you cry that one time?”

“Stop bringing that up,” I groaned.

George looked at me in the rearview mirror with the same smug grin he always wore when he was about to say something unserious. “I’ve never seen a pastry make someone so emotional.”

“That’s because you’ve never had one warmed up with the honey drizzle,” I mumbled, grabbing my bag and sliding out of the car. “Life-changing.”

Alex gasped. “You didn’t tell me there was a drizzle.”

Inside, it smelled like sugar and cinnamon and heaven itself. The display case was full of the usual suspects—flaky croissants, jam-filled danishes, tiny cakes decorated like art. There was an elderly French woman working behind the counter, and the moment she saw me, her face lit up.

“Ah! La petite infirmière!” she said cheerfully.

“I come here on my breaks sometimes,” I explained as she greeted me with a warm smile. “And maybe… after night shifts. And sometimes before them.”

“She knows your order by heart,” Alex whispered, eyes wide. “You’re a legend.”

George leaned in. “She also called you her favorite. I’m a little offended.”

Ten minutes later, we walked out with a box stacked full of pastries, coffee orders in hand, and Alex already halfway through his second croissant.

“Okay, but this is ridiculous,” he said through a mouthful. “There’s almond paste. There’s honey. There’s flake. I would die for this.”

“You said that about my pancakes last week,” George muttered.

“Yeah, well, this is sexier.”

I laughed, leaning into George’s side as we walked. “He’s not wrong.”

George huffed dramatically, stealing a sip of my coffee. “Unbelievable. I take you to a spa, plan a whole day, and you betray me for a baked good.”

“You’ll live.”

Alex nudged George from the other side. “Don’t worry, Georgie. You’re my favorite man. The croissant’s my favorite object. Very different categories.”

“You two are so stupid,” I said, grinning like an idiot as we reached the car again. “But like. The cute kind of stupid.”

They both smiled at me then—this warm, knowing, love-drunk kind of look that made me want to pause time.

“I really don’t deserve either of you,” I said softly, not even meaning to say it out loud.

George pulled me into a hug, holding me against him. “You deserve the world.”

“And a third croissant,” Alex added, already holding it out for me like an offering.

God help me—I think I loved them more than I loved that pastry. And that was saying something.

—

I don’t know whose idea it was to go to the zoo—probably Alex’s, considering the way he literally sprinted toward the penguin enclosure like it was a life or death mission.

“THEY’RE WEARING TUXEDOS,” he yelled, pointing through the glass. “LOOK AT THEM. DAPPER LITTLE MEN.”

George and I stood behind him, coffees in hand, trying not to laugh.

“He’s been like this since the flamingos,” George whispered to me. “He thinks they’re judging him.”

“They are judging him,” I said, sipping my drink. “They saw his sock-and-sandal combo and had thoughts.”

George leaned over and kissed the side of my head. “You look happy.”

“I am happy,” I admitted quietly. “You two are insane, but you’re my kind of insane.”

Alex finally turned around, eyes wide behind his sunglasses. “Guys. I need a penguin. For my apartment.”

“No,” George and I said at the same time.

“But what if we built a little arctic section in the bathtub—”

“Absolutely not,” I cut in. “You almost flooded the kitchen trying to recreate Finding Nemo last month. Remember?”

Alex pouted but took my hand as we walked to the next exhibit. He held it casually, like he always had—but something in me shifted when George reached out and linked his fingers with mine on the other side. Like… I was surrounded. Anchored. Loved. The three of us squeezed together in front of the red panda habitat, leaning on the railing, giggling at the way one of them tried to climb the fence and immediately fell asleep mid-effort.

“It’s giving YN post-night shift,” Alex said solemnly.

“It’s giving you after two mimosas,” George replied.

They bickered. I leaned my head on George’s shoulder. Alex looped his arm around my back. We stood like that for a long moment—quiet, warm, weirdly soft in the middle of a zoo full of screaming children and overpriced hot dogs.

“Okay, serious question,” I said. “If we were zoo animals, what would we be?”

George hummed. “You’d be a koala. Cute, sleepy, deceptively mean when provoked.”

I nodded. “That’s fair.”

Alex grinned. “George is a flamingo.”

George turned to him, affronted. “Excuse me?”

“Tall. Pink. A little awkward but elegant when he tries.”

George opened his mouth. Closed it. “Okay. Not… the worst comparison.”

I tilted my head at Alex. “And you?”

“Golden retriever that got into the lemur enclosure.”

We laughed so hard we nearly doubled over. The sun was starting to dip by the time we reached the exit, arms linked, bellies full of zoo snacks and heads full of ridiculous animal facts. Alex was still insisting we could totally adopt a capybara. George glanced over at me while Alex argued with a souvenir stand employee about whether or not the penguin plushies were “accurate to scale.”

“You’re glowing again,” he murmured.

“Must be the zoo energy,” I whispered back. “Or maybe just the fact that I’m with the two best boys in the world.”

George smiled so softly it made my heart ache. Alex returned, holding three matching penguin keychains.

“For the polycule,” he said with a wink.

I didn’t correct him.

—

The drive out of the city was full of bad singing, shared snacks, and the kind of laughter that made your cheeks hurt. By the time we pulled into the clearing—golden fields stretching into forever, sunflowers towering in gentle rows—I couldn’t even remember what stress felt like. It was quiet. Warm. The kind of place that smelled like wildflowers and safety.

“This is so unfair,” I whispered as I stepped out of the car, sunlight immediately spilling across my skin. “You two are trying to make me cry.”

George gave me a small smile, arms crossed, leaning against the car door like a smug Pinterest boyfriend. “We’re succeeding.”

Alex popped the trunk with a flourish. “We brought everything. Blanket, food, Polaroid, a Bluetooth speaker, and George’s deeply questionable taste in picnic wine.”

“It’s French,” George muttered, already spreading the blanket out in the soft grass.

“It’s gross,” Alex replied.

“Both of you shut up and feed me,” I said, flopping onto the blanket and pulling off my shoes with a groan. “I’m the exhausted nurse princess today. I get fed grapes and kissed every ten minutes.”

Alex plopped down beside me and held out a strawberry. “Your wish, my love.”

George sat on my other side and kissed my cheek. “Only ten minutes?”

I didn’t even bother hiding my grin as I leaned against George, resting my legs across Alex’s lap. They unpacked everything while I just… existed. Sun warming my face. Birds chirping somewhere in the trees. Their soft voices filling the silence.

They made me a little plate. Fed me things I didn’t ask for. Wiped the honey off my chin. Snapped Polaroids when I wasn’t looking.

“You know this feels fake, right?” I mumbled eventually, eyes half-lidded behind my sunglasses. “Like I’m dreaming.”

George rested his chin on my shoulder. “It’s very real.”

Alex tossed a grape into his own mouth and missed. “And very underappreciated. I did all the logistics.”

“You picked the playlist,” George said.

“Exactly.”

I laughed, rolling onto my side so I could look at both of them. “Thank you. For all of this.”

Alex shrugged like it was no big deal. ”It’s nice to remind you that you’re allowed to be taken care of too.”

At some point, I curled up with my head in George’s lap, Alex tracing soft patterns along my ankle. We watched the clouds drift lazily by. Took turns naming them. George said one looked like a giraffe; Alex said it looked like Esteban in a hat.

“I could stay here forever,” I whispered.

Neither of them said anything. They didn’t have to. Alex gently brushed a strand of hair from my face, and George leaned down to kiss my temple. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

—

The apartment was quiet. Not silent exactly—just quiet in that strange way it always was after Alex left. Like the energy had shifted. Like something warm had been packed up and carried out with him. George was curled up on the couch, hoodie sleeves pushed over his knuckles, eyes following the end credits of a movie neither of us had really paid attention to. I sat cross-legged on the other end, wearing one of his sweatshirts and sipping lukewarm tea, my brain loud despite the calm.

“I miss him,” I said quietly, without meaning to.

George looked over at me. Not surprised. Just… waiting.

“I mean,” I started again, voice barely above a whisper, “he left twenty minutes ago. That’s ridiculous.”

George didn’t tease me. He just gave me that soft little smile that always made me feel seen. “It’s not ridiculous.”

I set my tea down and tucked my legs under myself, heart in my throat. “Do you ever feel like… we’ve just kind of been pretending we don’t know?”

George blinked slowly, brows furrowed. “Know what?”

I met his eyes. My hands were shaking.

“That we love him.”

The air shifted. George didn’t move for a long moment. He just stared at me like he was re-learning the shape of me, the sound of my voice, the weight of the truth between us.

Then, so quietly I almost missed it, he said, “Yeah.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Yeah?”

He nodded, eyes still fixed on me. “Yeah. I think… I’ve been in love with him for longer than I knew what to call it. And I’ve been scared that saying it out loud would break this… us.”

“It won’t,” I said immediately, because it couldn’t. “It won’t, George.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “He’s you, in a different shape. He’s home. Just like you are.”

I felt my eyes well up and didn’t bother hiding it. “I thought I was crazy for feeling it. For wanting… more. Wanting the two of you, together.”

George got up and crossed the room, sinking to the floor in front of me. He rested his head in my lap, eyes closed, and reached for my hand.

“You’re not crazy,” he murmured. “You’re just brave.”

I kissed the top of his head, held him there like maybe that would keep everything from slipping.

“I don’t know what happens next,” I whispered.

George looked up at me, and for the first time all day, he looked a little less tired.

“We tell him,” he said. “We tell him everything.”

I nodded, a tear slipping down my cheek.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s tell him.”

—

alex’s pov

I shouldn’t have left. I told them I was tired, which wasn’t a lie—but it wasn’t the reason either. I left because if I stayed a second longer, I was going to say something I couldn’t take back. Something real. Something like, I’m in love with both of you and I don’t know how to stop. The apartment feels cold. Quiet. Too still without YN’s soft laughter echoing down the hallway or George’s voice calling me an idiot when I steal the last pastry. I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling like it holds answers, arms crossed over my chest like they’re supposed to keep me from unraveling. I can still see them. YN, eyes sleepy and smile soft, curled into George’s side while her fingers found mine under the blanket like it was the most natural thing in the world. George, reaching over her to fix my collar like he always does, like it means nothing.

But it does. God, it does. Every touch, every shared look, every morning coffee and middle-of-the-night text—it all means something. To me, at least. I roll over, bury my face in the pillow, and groan. I feel like I’m going to explode under the weight of everything I’ve never said. I’m in love with her. I’m in love with him. There. I said it—finally let it out like it might make the ache easier. It doesn’t.

I’ve been in love with them for longer than I want to admit. At first, it was just YN—her laugh, her mind, the way she always noticed when I was having a bad day without me saying a word. Then it was George, slowly and all at once—his dry humor, his ridiculous patience, the way he always let me in even when he didn’t say much. They’re together. They have each other. And I’ve always been… the extra. The best friend. The third wheel with the jokes and the camera and the conveniently empty passenger seat. And I thought that would be enough. That maybe just being near them would be okay. But it’s not.

Because every time YN falls asleep on my shoulder and George hands me something and his fingers linger on mine for a few seconds more than necessary, it feels like they see me. Like I belong with them. And that’s the part I can’t stop thinking about. What if I do? What if they felt it too? I let out a shaky breath and cover my face with my hands.

No. That’s dangerous thinking. That’s hope. And hope is a terrible thing when you’re the one standing outside the door, watching the light through the window, pretending you don’t wish it was your home too. I turn off the lamp and lie there in the dark, pretending sleep will come. Pretending I can keep pretending.

—

your pov

I couldn’t sleep. George was out cold beside me, one arm slung across my waist like it belonged there—and it did. But my thoughts were too loud, too insistent. It was still warm from the sun we’d soaked in earlier. My skin still smelled like strawberries and sunscreen and Alex’s cologne from when he hugged me goodbye. I’d watched him walk down the hallway with that quiet smile he wore when he was hiding how tired he was. How sad he was. I could feel the space he left behind like a ghost.

I shifted gently, brushing George’s hair back and whispering, “Babe… wake up.”

He blinked slowly, confused, warm. “You okay?”

I nodded. “We have to go.”

He sat up a little, still sleepy. “Go where?”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and he understood before I had to say it.

“To him,” I whispered. “We have to go to him.”

George smiled, soft and sad and full of something like relief. “Yeah. We do.”

We didn’t text or call. We just showed up. Alex opened the door in an oversized hoodie and pajama pants, hair sticking up on one side, eyes puffy like he hadn’t slept much either. He looked at the two of us standing there and immediately tried to smile, to laugh it off.

“What?” he said, voice hoarse. “You miss me already?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I walked in, and George followed, closing the door behind us like he was afraid we’d lose the courage if we waited another second.

Alex turned to face us, confused now. “What’s going on?”

And then I said it.

“I love you.”

His face shifted, just slightly. Eyes darting between us, trying to read whether it was a joke, a trap, a bit. His hands curled into the sleeves of his hoodie.

“YN—”

“I love you, Alex. Not just as my best friend. Not just because you’re funny or good or always there. I’m in love with you. I have been. For so long it’s not even something I can explain anymore. It’s just part of me.”

I took a shaky breath, and George stepped forward beside me, his hand grazing mine.

“And I love you too,” George said, steady as ever. “I was afraid to say it out loud. Afraid it would change things. But it already has, hasn’t it?”

Alex didn’t say anything. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. His eyes were glassy.

I reached for him, fingers brushing his sleeve. “We didn’t know how to tell you. We didn’t even know what we were feeling, for a long time. But you’ve always been the third piece of us, Alex. Not a third wheel. A third piece. And I think we’ve both known that for a while.”

Still nothing. So I kept talking, voice shaking now. “Every time you leave, the apartment feels wrong. Every time you smile at me or tease George, it feels like home. I miss you when you’re in the same room but not touching me. I love you and I’m scared and I don’t want to do any of this without you.”

He let out a sharp breath like he’d been holding it since we walked in.

“You’re serious,” he said finally, voice cracking. “You’re both… serious?”

George smiled, that little crooked grin he only ever gave when he was feeling vulnerable. “I’d ask if you want to join our weird little couple, but I think we already claimed you. We just forgot to tell you.”

That broke him. Alex laughed and cried at the same time, and I swear my heart cracked open watching it. I stepped into him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and he collapsed into me like he’d been waiting his whole life to be held like that. George hugged us both from behind, his arms strong and steady, and for a second none of us said anything. We just breathed. We just were.

“I thought I was imagining it,” Alex whispered against my hair. “All the time. I thought I was the joke.”

I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “You were never the joke. You were always the answer.”

George kissed the back of his shoulder, murmuring, “Took us long enough, huh?”

Alex looked between us, eyes still wet, but smiling now—really smiling.

“You guys are so dumb,” he said, laughing through his tears. “I love you both. So much it’s stupid.”

“I know,” I said, smiling back. “But now you don’t have to pretend anymore.”

We stayed wrapped up in each other in the middle of his living room, swaying like the world had stopped spinning, like everything finally made sense. And for the first time in a long, long time, I wasn’t tired anymore. I was home.

—

yn_norris

liked by lando, georgerussell63, alex_albon and 7,901,555 others.

yn_norris : day w my boyssss

tagged : alex_albon and georgerussell63

—

view 555,090 other comments.

lando : oh this is why you couldn’t answer your phone?

liked by yn_norris

↳ yn_norris : no its just bc i don’t like u

username00 : the way yn and alex look at each other good lord. just fucking kiss already.

liked by yn_norris, georgerussell63 and alex_albon

↳ lando : no pls do not do that.

liked by yn_norris

charles_leclerc : did yn hit the curb today??

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and lando

↳ georgerussell63 : surprisingly no

↳ yn_norris : lechair if i were you id watch your mouth. remember that time you couldn’t fit the car in the spot so we had to switch and i had to park your car??? yeah i do.

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, alex_albon and lando

↳ charles_leclerc : stop the cap

↳ yn_norris : charles you are more known in monaco for not being able to park than your actual driving career.

liked by lando, arthur_leclerc, georgerussell63 and alex_albon

georgerussell63 : can’t wait for all these pictures of me to be posted on pinterest under ‘boyfriend material’

liked by yn_norris and alex_albon

↳ yn_norris : what can i say? i love to feed the girlies.

alex_albon : i argued with the souvenir shop attendant for 45 minutes over the stuffies not being true to size

liked by yn_norris and georgerussell63

↳ yn_norris : babe i don’t rlly think anyone needs a 400 pound stuffed gorilla in their home.

↳ alex_albon : we do!!!!!

liked by yn_norris and georgerussell63

↳ username00 : BABE????

↳ lando : yeah^^^ what she said.

—

f1gossipgirls

liked by charles_leclerc, lando and 2,090,004 others.

f1gossipgirls : 3 recent moments that prove Alex Albon and YN Norris are absolutely in love—and that he’s very much involved in the long term relationship between her and George Russell. Listen, we’ve all joked about the YN–George–Alex dynamic being more than just close friends… but at this point, the receipts are stacking. Here are just a few moments that have the internet collectively screaming. 1. At the last race weekend, YN and Alex were spotted walking together through the paddock—nothing new. But what was new? The way she looked at him like he hung the damn stars. She was also seen multiple times with her hand wrapped around his or holding onto his arm like it was second nature. 2. In a recent behind-the-scenes Williams video, there’s a blink and you’ll miss it shot of Alex looking at YN with literal heart eyes. We’re talking soft, lovestruck, completely gone. Like sir, blink twice if you’re in love with your best friends. 3. Ahead of the next Grand Prix, the two were seen at the airport where Alex was pulling YN along on her suitcase—yes, like a scene out of a romcom—while she rested her head on his hand. He looked like he won the lottery. And honestly? So did she. Whatever’s going on here… we support it fully. Let us know your thoughts. Are they all in love? Is Alex part of the softest throuple in F1 history? Is this the plot of a fanfic come to life? Because either way, we are so here for it. 🫶

—

view 275,090 other comments.

username00 : girl we been knew. its just the three of them that don’t know.

username0 : charles and lando in the likes i can’t.

username1 : alex pulling yn on her suitcase while george is probably two feet away filming it and giggling??? i need a minute

username5 : remember when people thought alex was third wheeling? turns out we were just watching a love story unfold

username7 : the way alex looks at yn like she’s made of sunlight and the way george looks at both of them like they hung the moon… i’m SOBBING

username10 : i’m not even asking them to confirm it. just keep posting the domestic bliss. i’m FED

username11 : imagine being yn and waking up between george russell and alex albon. i’d simply never recover.

—

Alex was tracing lazy shapes into the back of my hand. George had one arm slung around my shoulders, fingers absentmindedly twisting the ends of my hair. We’d been sitting like this for ages—content, quiet, safe. And yet, I could feel the unspoken thoughts hanging in the air like dust in the sunlight.

“I’ve been thinking…” I started softly, breaking the silence. Both boys turned toward me immediately, eyes kind. “I know we’ve been keeping this—us—private. And it’s been really nice, just having it to ourselves. But… part of me wants people to know.”

Alex blinked slowly, then smiled, just barely. “You mean, like… going public?”

George leaned in closer, nuzzling into my shoulder. “You’re ready for that?” he murmured.

I nodded. “I think so. I mean, it’s not like we owe anyone an explanation, but… I also don’t want to hide something that makes me this happy. You guys—” I laughed a little, nerves bubbling up. “You’re both the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And it feels like we’re pretending when we’re out there.”

George pressed a kiss to my temple. “I feel the same,” he said, voice gentle. “I’ve been thinking about it too. But I didn’t want to pressure either of you. Especially you, Alex.”

Alex looked between us, eyes a little wide, a little watery. “I—yeah. I think I’ve always been scared, honestly. Of how people would see me. Us. But then I watch you two with me—how kind you are, how normal this feels—and I stop being afraid for a while.”

I leaned over and took his hand, threading my fingers through his. “You don’t have to be scared,” I whispered. “You never have to be scared with us.”

George nodded. “We’re in this together. Fully. If people talk, they talk. But we know the truth. We love each other. That’s all that matters.”

Alex’s shoulders dropped like he’d been holding his breath for days.

“Okay,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Then let’s do it. Let’s show them what love looks like.”

I laughed, heart full to the brim. “God, they’re going to lose their minds.”

“Oh, they are,” George smirked. “But we’ve already won.”

Alex leaned forward and kissed my cheek, then George’s. “So… who’s writing the caption?”

—

alex_albon

liked by yn_norris, georgerussell63, lando & 9,005,004 others.

alex_albon : group project but i actually want to do the work. love you both ❤️

tagged : yn_norris and georgerussell63

—

view 534,003 other comments.

yn_norris : you’re the only group member i trust with the google doc. love you more than life.

liked by alex_albon and georgerussell63

↳ georgerussell63 : what about me??

↳ yn_norris : you’re more of an excel spreadsheet guy

liked by georgerussell63 and alex_albon

↳ username00 : omg i love them so much. they are such fucking nerds. SEDATE ME.

liked by yn_norris

charles_leclerc : FUCKING FINALLY. im definitely not crying

liked by yn_norris, alex_albon and georgerussell63

↳ alexandrasaintmleux : he is def crying. congrats guys❤️

liked by yn_norris, alex_albon and georgerussell63

↳ charles_leclerc : not crying. just got a spec of dust in my eye.

liked by yn_norris, alex_albon and georgerussell63

lando : i knew this was coming yet it still just makes my stomach churn

liked by yn_norris, alex_albon and georgerussell63

↳ alex_albon : hiiiii brother in law

liked by yn_norris and georgerussell63

↳ lando : nope. uh uh. absolutely not. having george was already bad enough.

liked by yn_norris, georgerussell63 and alex_albon

↳ georgerussell63 : oh you know you love me hush.

carlossainz55 : as a hardcore galex shipper and yn lover— this brings tears to my eyes. YAY

liked by yn_norris, georgerussell63 and alex_albon

↳ carlossainz55 : but break her heart and i break you both in half

liked by yn_norris

↳ username1 : carlos does not play about the norris’. iktr mama

liked by yn_norris and lando

—

It was a perfect morning. Alex was still, arm lazily draped across my waist. George was scrolling through his phone with that little sleepy smile he always got when reading sweet comments, and I was somewhere in the middle of the world—blissfully cocooned in sheets, coffee on the bedside table, surrounded by the two loves of my life. And then the knocking started. Knocking that quickly escalated into pounding. And yelling.

“OPEN THE DAMN DOOR. I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”

I blinked. “Is that…?”

Alex groaned and yanked the blanket over his face. “God, please let it be fire alarm drills and not Lando Norris with a knife.”

George sighed. “It is definitely Lando.”

George got up reluctantly, muttering something about regretting knowing Lando. He barely had time to unlock the door before it slammed open and my brother stormed in. Behind him? Charles, Carlos, Pierre, and Esteban—each looking like this was a full-on intervention.

Lando immediately shouted, “YOU.”

He pointed at Alex like he was about to be tried in court.

“You hard-launched. You emotionally traumatized Twitter and ME. And you didn’t even warn anyone?!”

Alex, peeking out from under the covers, managed a sheepish, “Surprise?”

Charles flopped into the armchair like he’d just run a race. “I knew it. I’ve been saying it for MONTHS. The hand-holding. The months of soft launching and I was laughed at.”

Carlos was pacing. I swear to God, pacing.

“Do you know how many Notes app entries I have? I had a theory chart. A timeline. Receipts. I was INVESTED.”

“Wait,” I sat up. “You had a timeline?”

Carlos showed me. It was color-coded. I honestly didn’t know whether to be flattered or alarmed. Pierre, casually raiding our minibar, popped open a tiny bottle of champagne like this was some kind of victory. “About time, poly trio. Santé.”

Lando whirled on me.

“And YOU! My SISTER. You didn’t think to tell me that you were out here in love with two drivers? Under my nose?!”

I shrugged, attempting innocence. “You’re dramatic. You’d have live-tweeted it.”

“I WOULDN’T HAVE—” he paused. “Okay, fair.”

Charles, still draped across the chair, nodded. “He does have a very specific meltdown tone.”

George returned to the bed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, watching the chaos with mild amusement. “You guys act like we planned this.”

Esteban handed George a croissant. “Didn’t you though? With, like… all the longing stares and Alex sleeping over constantly?”

Alex sat up, rubbing his face. “For the record, I didn’t sleep over constantly.”

Lando shook his head, “Bro. You were wearing George’s shirt at breakfast in Barcelona.”

And then Carlos chimed in, “And YN’s fuzzy socks. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Pierre returned with snacks. “So… are we getting a couple name now? Throuple? Triad? Love triangle but healthy edition?”

George sighed, “Please. No.”

Charles chimed in, “I vote ‘Algeoyn.’”

Alex mutters, “You just made us sound like a dinosaur.”

Then there was a blessed moment of peace… until Lando sat down heavily, frowning at me.

“I’m not mad. I’m not. I just…” He paused dramatically and looked into my eyes.

“If either of them hurts you, I will crash a scooter into both of them and it will not be an accident.”

“You crashed last week because you were texting.”

“UNRELATED.”

Everyone was laughing at that point—Carlos already halfway through a bag of chips, George was showing Esteban pictures from the Zoo trip, Charles and Lando had snatched Carlos’ phone to examine the timeline he made. Alex leaned into me, whispering, “This is kind of perfect, isn’t it?”

I looked around the room—at my brother trying to act tough, at my boys watching me like I was the only thing in the world, and at our chaotic paddock family crashing our soft Sunday.

I smiled. “Yeah. Kind of is.”

—

696 notes · View notes

lazysoulwriter · 3 months ago

Text

just friends, right? - pedro pascal.

requested! hope you like it, like i did! - requested are open.

It started with a selfie.

Pedro posted it on Instagram without much thought. A casual photo of him and you—both smiling, both a little too close, both bathed in golden light. The caption? Just a simple:

pascalispunk: brunch with my best girl 🤍

And the internet lost it.

Twitter Thread – pedropascalupdates 📌 Pinned Tweet

🚨 Okay but Pedro Pascal and Y/N have been “best friends” for like… a decade?? and yet they’ve posted more soft couple content than ACTUAL couples. A thread 🧵

1 - This is them at a premiere last year. Hand on lower back, lingering eye contact, the whole thing 👀 📸 [image attached] 2 - Pedro flew to Paris for literally no reason the same week Y/N was filming there. Coincidence? okay. 📸 [screenshot of Pedro’s IG story + Y/N’s BTS photo] 3 - They wore matching rings at the Critics Choice Awards. Like… the SAME. EXACT. RING. 📸 [close-up of both their hands] 4 - This pic 😭 📸 [screenshot of the infamous brunch selfie]

Instagram – yourusername

📸 carousel post:

blurry mirror pic of Pedro tying your shoe

sunset through a car window

wine glasses clinking

Pedro's hand reaching across a table for yours (captioned: “my favorite view”)

comments:

pedropascalfan27: that’s HIS HAND. I RECOGNIZE THE VEINS 😭 chaoticpedrogirl: okay but is this a soft launch or a hard launch??? besties4life: y’all are really just gonna keep playing with our emotions like this huh 😭 pascalsource: it’s giving “we’ve been married for 7 years but you don’t need to know that” user123: can we get a timeline please??? this is mental gymnastics

Interview Clip – Red Carpet Moment

Interviewer: “Pedro, you and Y/N have such an adorable friendship—fans love seeing you two together!” Pedro (grinning): “Yeah… she’s the best. Been putting up with me for years now.” Interviewer: “Any chance it’s more than just friendship? People have… theories.” Pedro: laughs, rubs the back of his neck “People love a good theory, don’t they?”

Instagram Story – @ pascalispunk 📸 blurry photo of a breakfast table 👤 tagged: yourusername (but barely noticeable in the corner)

Fan Tweet – @ pedropascaldefenseunit

no bc at this point I’m convinced they’ve been in love for like ten years and are just vibing and letting us slowly lose our minds over it

They never confirm it. They never deny it either.

But when Pedro posts a grainy polaroid of you both sitting on a rooftop, your head resting on his shoulder, with the caption:

pascalispunk: home.

...no one really needs confirmation anymore.

The notification buzzes on your phone, but you already know who it is. Pedro.

He’s on the other side of the couch, wrapped in the blanket he insists on bringing every time he stays over, glasses sliding down his nose, the glow of his phone lighting up his face. He posts the photo without saying a word. Just smiles at his screen, soft and content. You can see it in the way his eyes crinkle.

"You posted?" you ask, laughing as you throw a pillow at him. "Maybe," he replies, trying to play innocent. "Pedro!" "What? It's cute!" — He flashes the screen at you. The caption: Home. The picture: you and him on your rooftop, your head resting on his shoulder, city lights behind you.

You shake your head, grinning, and crawl over to steal his phone. "Now everyone’s gonna know. Again."

Pedro drops his head into your lap, looking up at you like you’re his whole world. "Let them. They’re not wrong, anyway."

Your fingers drift through his hair, absentmindedly. "You sure? About… us being out there like that?"

He grabs your hand, holds it tight. Lifts it and kisses each finger one by one. "I’m sure about you." "Cheesy." "True."

Another buzz — comments flooding in. "You wanna read?" he teases. "No. I just wanna stay here with you."

He smiles again, that sleepy, safe smile you know too well. "Just us."

And for now, that’s all you need.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smau #pedro pascal social media au #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x oc #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfics #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fics #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #smau #pp

663 notes · View notes

tea-writes19 · 2 months ago

Text

play-by-play | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

summary: you can’t stop posting live updates of the civil war

warnings: avenger!reader, fox shifter!reader, comedy, chaotic dumbass reader, grumpy bucky, the team is so done with reader’s shit, mentions of bucky’s past, swearing, civil war tension?, reader is team cap, suggestive content, fluff

a/n: guess who’s back bitches!!! this isn’t a request or anything, i just wanted to write some cw!bucky x reader. i promise i’m working on all the joaquin requests🤞🏻anyways enjoy lovelies :)

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: sokovia accords?? ho what?!]

story replies

user1: lmao

user2: girl get over it🙄

user3: y’all need to be kept in check….

steverogers: y/n delete this

user4: you’re so real for this

jamesrhodes: 🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️

liked by wandamaximoff, samwilson, mariahill, and others

yourusername: throwback to that time my future husband almost killed my friends and i

tagged: @/steverogers @/samwilson @/natasharomanoff

view comments below

user5: GIRL WHAT?!

wandamaximoff: so that’s the guy you keep bringing up👀😲

user6: ho is that the winter soldier???

user7: wait a damn min—

user8: THE WINTER SOLDIER?!?!

user9: i don’t think y/n is okay…

user10: girl we been knew

steverogers: please stop calling bucky your future husband

user11: 😭😭

user12: y/n really out here tryna date cap’s brainwashed bestie from the forties

user13: honestly bucky barnes is so hot tho

samwilson: can your future husband stop leading us on a wild goose chase🙄

yourusername: that would be nice😔

user14: lmaoooooo

steverogers: please stop encouraging her, sam

user15: i’m convinced y/n was dropped on the head as a baby

yourusername: bold of you to assume i was held

user16: i—

user17: girl are you okayyyyy????

yourusername: don’t ask stupid questions

steverogers: this is why tony and i tried to get you to go to therapy🤦🏼‍♂️

natasharomanoff: when did you even have time to take these pics??

yourusername: uhhhhhhh

yourusername: so i may or may not have had time to prevent you getting shot….

natasharomanoff: …

nastasharomanoff: i hate you

liked by samwilson, natasharomanoff, sharoncarter, and others

yourusername: rip peggy carter but sam and i are slaying

tagged: @/samwilson

view comments below

user18: HELLOOOOO?????

user19: peggy carter? slayed. sam and y/n? SLAYED

user20: 😭😭

user21: OH MY GOD😭

sharoncarter: it’s what she would have wanted😔✊

yourusername: pouring one out for a legend😔✊

user22: peggy so would have wanted this!!😭

user23: omg i’m crying

user24: THIS is how i find out?!

samwilson: i would like everyone to know that cowboy hat did wonders for me

yourusername: save a horse, ride a cowboy

yourusername: except it’s more save a horse, ride a bird?

user25: y/n what😭

steverogers: i don’t even know what to say right now…

user26: rip to a real one

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: HUBBY NO!!!!]

story replies

steverogers: y/n…..🤦🏼‍♂️

user27: so sorry babes…..

user28: rip✊

natasharomanoff: y/n. people are dead….

user29: girl, stop simping for a literal terrorist

user30: this is not it….

liked by sharoncarter, samwilson, clintbarton, and others

yourusername: my pookie and i have been reunited🥰❤️

view comments below

samwilson: awwww…..fuck your husband

yourusername: i’m trying….

user31: 😳😭

user32: y/n😭😭

user33: why the winter soldier kinda….

user34: frfr👀

user35: he’s a literal terrorist. what is wrong with you people!

user36: still hot🤷‍♀️

user37: convinced y/n has like a dash cam on her harness or smth bc….

steverogers: why do i even bother🙄

user38: cap’s face😭😭

user39: watched the chase on the news, you hopping onto barnes’ back to get off the building was hilarious😭

user40: omg i saw thattttt

user41: and when he just tossed her to the side after by picking her up by the scruff😭😭

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: the fucking audacity these bitches have…]

story replies

user42: awwwww

user43: why didn’t you just shift back😭😭

samwilson: deserved

yourusername: 🖕

natasharomanoff: they leashed you???

jamesrhodes: saving this for blackmail purposes

user44: why do you look so happy tho😭

yourusername: saw the love of my life

liked by jamesrhodes, natasharomanoff, tonystark, and others

yourusername: papa y papa are fighting and my love is locked up😔

view comments below

natasharomanoff: WE TOOK YOUR PHONE??

natasharomanoff: what is this sorcery

yourusername: 🤭🤗

user45: sad day to be y/n…

user46: y/n is a child of divorce😔😭

tonystark: stop posting pictures of secure government buildings

yourusername: *bugs bunny ‘no’ gif*

user47: bucky barnes committed regicide and has murdered countless people…

user47: he deserves to be locked up

user48: wrong account to say this to babes

user49: you act like the bitch cares

user50: frrrr….y/n is horrible too

user51: she should be locked up too imo

sharoncarter: king t’challa keeps looking like he’s a second away from murdering you…

yourusername: i have that effect on people

user52: 😭😭

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: pookilicious is evil again😔😩]

story replies

tonystark: A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE

natasharomanoff: GET OFF THE FUCKING PHONE

samwilson: i hate this bitch so much….

user53: those thighs tho👀😩

user54: GIRL RUN!!!

liked by wandamaximoff, scottlang, samwilson, and others

yourusername: abouta fight, kinda nervous👉🏻👈🏻

tagged: @/steverogers @/samwilson @/clintbarton @/wandamaximoff @/scottlang

view comments below

user56: we really made this girl an avenger😭

steverogers: bucky would like you to stop taking pictures of him

user57: 😭😭

yourusername: tell him to talk to me to the face then, bitch

samwilson: language!

clintbarton: language!

wandamaximoff: language!

user58: you still a criminal🤷‍♀️

user59: hope you get arrested😘

user60: team whatever team ends up with y/n and bucky barnes getting married

[liked by yourusername]

clintbarton: so this is why nat’s been complaining nonstop over text about you….

scottlang: great to meet you!

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: weird spider kid beat these bitches asses]

story replies

samwilson: you’re insufferable🖕

user61: men doing men things: manspreading

user62: they look so done….

scottlang: oh shit, bird and scary dude are down!

user63: love how you always have time to update us😭😭

liked by scottlang, peterparker, wandamaximoff, and others

yourusername: 🎶everybody was kung fu fighting🎶

view comments below

steverogers: the least you could do is get a good pic of me….

user64: poor guy has given up trying to stop y/n😭

user65: 🎶kung fu fighting🎶

user66: 🎶those cats were fast as lightning🎶

user67: 🎶in fact it was a little bit frightening🎶

scottlang: 🎶but they fought with expert timing🎶

user68: omg hawkeye!!!

user69: why’s the spider got cap’s shield😱

user70: scarlet witch deserves to be locked up for lagos!!

natasharomanoff: i don’t know how you of all people managed to escape….

yourusername: ☺️🤗

yourusername added to their story -->

[caption: little guy can be big guy!!]

story replies

peterparker: big guy big guy big guy—

user71: omg ant-man?!

user72: holy shit….

user73: the duplicity of scott lang🤭

hopepym: well….that’s new

liked by natasharomanoff, tchallaudaku, peterparker, and others

yourusername: siberia is cold

tagged: @/steverogers @/buckybarnes

view comments below

user74: slay queen💅

natasharomanoff: d-did you make barnes an instagram???

yourusername: had a spare phone and was bored on the flight

buckybarnes: i have never met someone who can talk as much as you…

yourusername: awwww i love you too hubby!!

user75: egypt is hot

user76: usa is room temp

peterparker: man this is better than my footage!

user77: not y/n making the WINTER SOLDIER an instagram😭😭

liked by samwilson, scottlang, peterparker, and others

yourusername: my dads broke up and pookie lost his arm but it’s ok bc i got mcds😌

view comments below

user78: #rip stony 2016😔✊

user79: GIRL RIP THE AVENGERS?!

user80: avengers: 2012-2016😢

buckybarnes: i LOST my ARM

yourusername: you’d think you’d be used to it but noooooo

buckybarnes: IT WAS MY FUCKING ARM????

samwilson: the raft fucking sucks bestie

yourusername: i’m so sorry bestie

user81: i’m literally speechless rn…

user82: the winter soldier being framed WAS NOT on my 2016 bingo card😭😭

user83: frfr

user84: say sike rn

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: damn this place is nice]

story replies

steverogers: we’re literal fugitives y/n

user85: i-is that fucking wakanda?!?

buckybarnes: i’m not getting rid of you anytime soon am i?

yourusername: nope!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~two years later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

liked by buckybarnes, steverogers, samwilson, and others

yourusername: stuck for life🤍🥂

tagged: @/buckybarnes

view comments below

buckybarnes: wouldn’t have it any other way, doll

user86: omg omg omg!!!!!!!!

samwilson: prettiest flower girl by the way!

user87: STOP😭😭

user88: you’re literally glowing🫶🏻

user89: congrats!!!

natasharomanoff: you see, this is an appropriate post

user90: y/n is the manifester of all manifesters…

steverogers: i can’t believe i just witnessed my best friend get married….

tonystark: lovely wedding. only critique is the groom

yourusername: 🖕

user91: 😭😭

user92: oh my god😭

steverogers: tony i swear to god—

clintbarton: language!

#tea ☆#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smau #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel smau #mcu smau #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #marvel fanfiction

357 notes · View notes

lewisvinga · 1 year ago

Text

the only thing that matters | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary; old pictures resurface of y/n which outs her as bisexual and many fans think they know what’s better for charles

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; homophobia, hate comments, cursing

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; requested !

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: girlssssss tripppp 💞

tagged; yourbestfriend

charles_leclerc: what am i? chopped liver

yourbestfriend: u da wallet 🤑🤑

charles_leclerc: i’m the wallet for my girlfriend, you just happen to be like a flea and i have to pay for you too🙄🙄🙄

yourbestfriend: thanks i guess 🙄

yourusername: ur the bf💓💓 charles_leclerc

username: oh! that’s not…

username: yikes

yourbestfriend: and serena and blair, they do besties better than anyone 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

yourusername: xoxo gossip girl💋

username: ‘besties’ ok sure

username: this is so-

username: this girl 😭😭😭

username: how much yall wanna bet y/n is actually dating y/b/f and they’re just using charles for his money🤣

username: girl it’s SOOO OBVIOUS

username: charles deserves better 😢

username: you’re all acting so weird. she’s just bi w a bf???

username: i don’t trust her 🥱🥱

username: charlotte was 1000x better than y/n idcccccc, i miss chacha 😩😩😩

username: charles needs someone like charlotte not y/n!!

username: everyone in the comments are hidden homophobes bc no way yall are THIS worked up over y/n being bisexual 💀💀

username: it’s the way she acts, it’s so obvious she’s using charles, open ur eyes 🥱

username: lets be fr, u also know that she doesn’t deserve charles 🙄

username: LEAVE CHARLES ALONE!!!!

username: fuck you

username: weird💀💀💀💀

the comments on this post have been turned off!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and others !

charles_leclerc: it’s upsetting that in 2024, someone’s sexuality is suddenly a problem. i knew of y/n’s sexuality long before we got together. she’s openly bisexual and i’m proud of her for being able to express herself.

not only that, but she is a successful business owner who doesn’t need me or any man to provide for her.

y/n is my whole heart and the love of my life. i won’t hesitate to block and report anyone who dares to send hatred over her sexuality. the only thing that matters is that i love her.

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

yourusername: i love u 💗💗

charles_leclerc: and i love you❤️❤️

yourbestfriend: she’s crying btw

yourusername: can u stfu

charles_leclerc: no she cannot

yourbestfriend: no i cannot

lewishamilton: we’re all on your side, y/n!❤️

yourusername: tysm lewis🥹 can’t wait to see u around more next season🫶

username: WHATD I SAY?? YALL WERE BEING WEIRD!!!!

username: ily queen

username: y/n is just representing all the bi girlies w bfs around the world😫

yourusername: like God forbid i like girls too while having a sexy bf🙄

charles_leclerc: oh??

username: y/n acting like she isn’t the sexy one here

username: sexy bi girls w sexy bfs iktr 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

username: charles said ally!✊🏳️‍🌈

username: THIS IS SO CUTE STOPPP

username: if charles is happy then why does it concern u all who it’s with?? y/n is perffff for him😫

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc social media au

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cherrys-muses · 5 months ago

Text

w; lower case intended & very short! an; this is my third post today ….. i already feel bad for posting twice but THREE??? i apologize to everyone in advance </3 this is purely self-indulgent bc i cannot stop thinking about him (also apologies for using his other tags! just want to spread this).

there’s a glass on the nightstand that had been shared last night, with a lipstick stain and half-filled with warm wine. the window is opened slightly, a breeze blowing the fresh, sheer linen slightly.

the sound of laughter from down below has you stirring in the comfort of your warm sheets, lifting your arms above your head as you let out a small yawn.

allowing your eyes to remain closed for a moment, your right hand slowly drops and feels around for someone who is supposed to be right next to you, but you're only met by cold, empty sheets. frowning and opening your tired eyes slightly, you lift up on your elbows and glance around the room.

there’s sounds of water from the bathroom, steam rolling out from under the small crack of the door. smiling once you realize johnny has yet to leave, you lie back and hope you can convince him to stay a bit longer — or better yet, skip work.

the door finally opens for a moment and your eyes slip shut once again, hoping that you are hiding your smile well. the bed dips slightly, the feeling of warm fingers brush against your temple and down your cheek.

“you awake?”

you don’t move, yet the corner of your mouth twitches. the tip of his nose presses against your cheek softly when his lips brush over your temple and across your cheekbone. you let out a small laugh, turning your head slightly to finally get a good look at him.

“good morning, doll.” his plush lips pull into a toothy grin, his hand pressing into the pillow behind your head.

“good morning,” you smile back just as big, eyes flickering down to his work outfit. frowning, you look back up at him. “do you have to go?”

“i’m afraid so,” he lets out a dramatic sigh, dropping his forehead against yours gently. “i am a very needed person.”

huffing out a small laugh, you lift your arms and wrap them around his shoulders loosely, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. “i’ll miss you.”

“i won’t be gone for long,” his hand lifts and meets your shoulder before dragging down softly. his soft eyes drag along your face, his face melting into something softer. “i’ll be home before you know it.”

nodding your head softly, with your nose nudging his, you press a final kiss against his lips, cradling his jaw between your hands now. you pull away slowly, brushing your thumb along his skin.

“be safe.”

“always.” he grins.

#joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x reader #johnny storm x fem!reader #johnny storm x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #emperor geta x fem!reader #emperor geta x reader

746 notes · View notes

softspiderling · 1 year ago

Text

✦ . * ocean blue eyes (social media au) | r.c.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

author's note: guys i did it.... i got weak. i have a rough plot line but mostly making it up as i go, good vibes only. also, yes, I do have a lot going on. tagging @oceandriveab @zyafics and @ghostofwriting bc i know they'll fw this <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Liked by kiecarerra, sabrinacarpenter, johnbroutledge and 2.988.625 others

youruser welcome to the family Sarah 🤍

view all 28.702 comments

ynsbiggestfan omfg sarah as in gracie's old background guitarist????

➞ abrmsyn when worlds collide 🤯

ynfancam they're gonna be such an iconic duo i know it

➞ ynforever frrrr

➞ allhailyn WAS ABOUT TO SAY THE SAME THING

sarahcam biggest dream come true ❤️

➞ youruser ❤️

johnbroutledge 🤩

sabrinacarpenter purr

liked by kiecarerra, cleogriffith, johnbroutledge and 88.213 others

sarahcam thank you @/youruser for trusting me with this job. it’s such an honor getting in tune with you🫶🏼

view all 16.824 comments

kiecarerra my fave artist and my fave guitarist together? when's the first show?

➞ sarahcam i’ll let you know asap😘

popephotography let me know if i can shoot one of your shows

➞ cleogriffith this is so ratchet of you

➞ cleogriffith anyways sarah let me know if yn needs a model for a mv 😘

johnbroutledge so proud of you❤️

➞ sarahcam ❤️❤️

youruser best addition yet👀

➞ sarahcam 🤭

youruser replied to this story: wait who's the guy in the front?🥵

johnbroutledge: that's sarah's brother👀

youruser: WHAT

youruser: lmao nevermind

liked by topperthorntonofficial, sarahcam, sofia_flores and 209.204 others

wonderland @/rafe talks growing up in kildare, balancing a healthy work life balance and the scrutiny a model has to face

view all 6.458 comments

rafe247 holy shit

rafeupdates 🙇🏻‍♀️

rafeandonlyrafe i want rafe to step on me🥵

➞kelleigh_leclerc me 2🤭

topperthorntonofficial fresh

jjmaybank what happened to your hair?

➞ jjsandrafes jj and rafe enemies to lovers when😫

rafe replied to this story: tell her im single

sarahcam: ew no

rafe: praying on your downfall

liked by youruser, rafe and 128.764 others

sarahcam happy birthday to the most annoying big brother in the world

view all 5.698 comments

rafesgf Rafe is Sarah’s brother?????

➞ allaboutrafe they literally have the same last name…

➞ rafebrazil02 you must be new here

rafe247 everyone say thank you sarah for providing us with unseen pics

➞ rafesnumberonefan Thank you Sarah

rafe i’m suing you for posting these pictures

➞ sarahcam 😘

➞ rafefan LMAO

sarahcameronsbaby rafe said 😛

youruser cutiess

❤️liked by rafe

➞ raferaferafe same yn, same

➞ rafecameron4lyfe omfg rafe liked yn’s comment👀

────────────

rafe started following youruser

youruser started following rafe

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: if you saw your user in this au, thanks for giving me inspo, trying to come up with so many fan page names is so hard. also what are we thinking

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron social media au #drew starkey social media au #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey

1K notes · View notes

gothwineaunts · 3 months ago

Note

I don’t mean to assume or make anyone alarmed but I’ve heard you and flynn are skipping the focus on Annabel and Lenore bc of a group of Montresor fans (as Lenore and Annabel aren’t popular with them).

Is that true??

I’m not asking because of what’s happening in fastpass, I heard about this information around when season 2 came out.

Wow, that's honestly absurd. Sorry hon, I dunno where you heard that but it's made-up nonsense. A rumor, and not even a particularly good one. I think most anyone would be able to see through it, but I'll go through it with you anyway because I've seen some angst on the tag about this. 1. Lenore and Annabel are the main characters of the story, and that has not changed and will not change. If we intended to toss them aside in season 2, why on earth would we have set so much up in season 1? Also all of the promo art is still of them, and we spent a lot of time on it. So I think it's a safe bet to assume they're still the main characters. 2. Nevermore is, and has always been, a sapphic gothic romance. Montresor is a man. Where is the sense in changing the intent of a story, and likely losing readers in the process, just to appeal to a niche group? 3. As for this niche group of Montresor fans, where? Who are they? And what power do they supposedly have over us to force us to completely change the story to their shadowy whims? Idk if you noticed this but people kind of hate Montresor. He's easily the least liked character in the series. And making him the main character would be maybe the most unpopular decision we could possibly make, so how would that be selling out or making fanservice, if everyone... would hate it? Wouldn't that make it the opposite of fanservice? What is the logic there? 4. As far as I am concerned, Annabel and Lenore are popular with most everybody in the fandom (including people who happen to also like Montresor) on account of them being, once again, the main characters of the story. 5. Annabel got the first flashback, and then Ada, then Prospero, then Eulalie, and Will. I feel like there are enough data points there for most people to be able to see the trajectory of the arc. If you can't, I'm not going to explain it. 6. Related to the above point, do you suppose we've passed over Lenore by accident? Or we just forgot about her? Or is it more likely that we're doing a thing? 7. Y'know, it's always Montresor people make up these moralistic rumors about. I'm sick to death of people being weird about Montresor. Some of you out there really need to learn what a villain is, it's frankly wild how much confusion there seems to be around this concept. 8. This rumor smacks of "you don't actually care about the sapphics" but I regret to inform you that Flynn and I are both sapphics. And worse, we're sapphic together. Kinda shoots that idea out of the water. 9. Is this because everyone is mad they haven't kissed yet? Because this is still the same slowburn you read last season. I don't know why anyone thought there'd be a kiss like ten panels into the new season. 10. If I seem edgy, it's because it's pretty insulting to imply that we just do whatever readers tell us to do when it comes to creating the story. We really put our hearts into this series, and our plans for the plot will not change, no matter what y'all say or do. We do not crowdsource our art. And if we did, it would make an absolute mess of things. Thanks for your question, I hope I cleared things up. <3

#red post

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 10 months ago

Text

breaking news!

pairing: milf! reader x pre-re2 leon

cws/tags: protected p in v, virginity loss, leon cumming immediately, coming untouched, talking about past somno (implied to be consensual), presumably established relationship, no description of reader beyond cis female who has had a child and is older than leon, reader POV, no use of y/n

summary: leon doesn't wanna die a virgin! shit goes down in july '98 (bizarre murders occur in raccoon city etc. you know the monologue), and leon sees it on the news, decides he's gotta fuck before he becomes a cop fr.

a/n: this is part 3 to cool mom's countdown. i wasn't sure how to tag some stuff bc it's like they're having sex rn but reader is thinking about stuff they've done in the past too, so it's kinda a little time-skipping sometimes. (past things are italicized for your reading pleasure)

wc: 1.7k

taglist: @onlyasimp4-2dbitches @puppedup @nilpill @sya-skies @shiawaseorii

@rigorwhoring @porcelainseashore

@tieabowaroundme @frankieeeeesblog @kerredgraveblog

join my taglist! purchase a commission!

At first, your relationship with Leon made you feel old -- all of the pop culture references you’d make flew over his head, and you realized how out of the loop you were when it came to modern slang when you had to ask Leon for the definition of approximately one word per sentence he spoke. While miscommunications arose through conversations, you were in sync when it came to sex.

In the proverbial bedroom, Leon made you feel young again. After work one Friday night, you made out on the couch until you insisted that you needed to freshen up before your movie date, and ended up sitting on the bathroom counter with Leon’s head between your thighs, and, to pay him back, you jerked him off in the theater.

You’d been together for a good six months before you finally went all the way. You told Leon from the beginning that you wouldn’t have sex with him until he was 100% sure he was ready. A sweet boy like him deserved to have a good first time.

After a gourmet meal of macaroni and cheese plus whatever else you could find in the cabinet, the two of you shared a six pack on the back porch while watching the sun set over the suburbs. It was romantic, minus the topic of conversation -- everyone was talking about the bizarre murders in the Arklay Mountains which weren’t far from where you lived. Leon was glued to the TV, watching updates as they appeared on the news over the course of the past week.

It was disturbing enough to hear the outlandish reports of families being attacked by a group of about 10 people, but the victims were apparently eaten. And, you couldn’t bear the thought of Leon being a member of that STARS team that went missing.

Leon had always been insistent on joining the force, but being forced to actively accept your own mortality can be a scary experience for even the bravest. However, Leon’s biggest fear wasn’t death itself.

“I keep seeing those cops on the news -- the ones from the RPD who died and I don’t wanna die a virgin.”

“What?” His train of thought blew past about 10 stops before arriving at its destination, it seemed. You struggled to put the pieces together.

“That’ll be me pretty soon -- well, not necessarily dead, hopefully not, just part of the RPD, I mean. But, since there’s a real chance I could die, I would like to lose my virginity.”

Talking about death put a bit of a damper on the mood, but Leon could get you riled up in the most inappropriate of situations.

“I told you we can do it whenever you’re ready,” you said nonchalantly.

“What I meant was, I’m ready now.”

Your first instinct was to look down towards the front of his jeans.

“Mentally,” he clarified when he saw you checking for a bulge in his pants.

You swiftly led him up to your bedroom and by the time your lips were on his neck, he was physically ready for you too. Leon’s a sucker for hickies. Pun intended.

“It makes me feel like I’m yours,” he mentioned one night, wearing a stupid grin and smudged lipstick - both courtesy of you.

“You are mine,” you said, cupping his cheek, “and I’m yours.”

“Then, can I give you one too?”

He shouldn’t. You already felt out of place at the neighborhood book club, and you didn’t want Karen and Cheryl (or whatever their names are) to think you’re a complete whore.

Fuck it. They could stare all they wanted. Bring on their jealousy-fueled disgust.

You exposed your neck to Leon and let him suck lightly at the skin. As it turned out you liked them quite a bit too.

When you told Leon he was yours and vice versa, you meant it, but tonight you were really going to seal the deal.

It was a dance of tipsy fumbling around as one’s first time should be. Giggling while barely holding yourselves back from ripping each other’s clothes off.

“You’re so needy,” you whispered into his ear, though you were the one palming him through his underwear.

“No... you’re just hot... I can’t help being like this around you.”

“Yeah? Then how do you think I feel around a handsome young man like you?” You took his hand and gently guided him to feel your arousal through your panties.

He inhaled sharply, and you felt his needy cock twitch against your hand which had yet to slip inside his boxers. Poor thing, he was always so desperate.

Not that you minded – not even when you’d wake up in the middle of the night to him rutting his hips into you from behind. He did this often in his sleep – he thought it was embarrassing, but you thought it was endearing. He’d mumble your name and coax your hand back to his hard-on if you ever dared to retract it.

Leon hooked his fingers in the fabric of your panties and slid it to the side, teasing your folds with his touch.

In retaliation and reward, you took his length in your hand, planning to give him the same languid, tantalizing strokes he was giving you. But he grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Wait-” he said, breath shaky with what you assumed to be nerves.

You backed off completely. “Leon, I’m so sorry. If you’re not ready tonight, we can do this some other-”

“-I’m ready, too ready. Just thinking about getting to be inside you is making me feel... really good already, so, um, if you touch me like that, I might not be able- I might cum before I can actually... you know...”

“Fuck me?” God, it was so cute how flustered he’d get over the simplest things.

“Yeah, fuck you.” He couldn’t curse in front of you without blushing. It took him a while to adjust to calling you by your first name instead of ‘ma’am’, so you couldn’t blame him for feeling awkward cursing around you. The redness in his cheeks only rose when he realized how his statement - fuck you - could’ve been interpreted.

“No, wait, not fuck you, I mean, I wanna fuck you... in a good way. I wanna make you feel good,” he clarified.

“Then come here,” you lied back on the bed and beckoned him closer.

“Yes, ma’am.” Typical. You had to resist the urge to call him a ‘good boy’, knowing those words alone might make him cum in his pants.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Once, while he was going down on you -- on his knees at the edge of your bed, his favorite position -- you told him how he was such a good boy for making you feel so good, and though his hands remained gripping your thighs, holding them open so he could bury his face in your cunt, your orgasm triggered his, and he came completely untouched.

You grabbed a condom from your bedside table -- you were on the pill, and neither of you were seeing anyone else, but you were pretty sure that his cock wouldn’t make it inside you if you told him he could fuck you raw -- and you handed him the packet.

“Do you know how to do it?”

“Yeah, they made us try putting them on bananas in health class.”

“Thank your health teacher for me, then, will you?”

“Um, I don’t know if Mr-”

“I’m kidding, baby.”

“This is no time for joking around. You’re breaking my concentration,” he said, but his smile betrayed any facade of seriousness.

When he successfully put it on, you said, only half-joking, “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Don’t say that,” he said -- no, whined.

“Why not?”

“Gonna make me cum too quick.”

If only he knew that his bashfulness, his pretty, whiny voice, and his desperation were going to make you cum quicker than you usually would.

“Okay. I won’t say anything.”

“At least tell me if I’m doing it right, like, if I’m putting it in the right hole.”

“You’re doing fine so far.”

He nodded and took a breath before positioning himself at your entrance. When he pressed the tip inside you, you moaned simultaneously. You wanted to beg him to keep going, you wanted to feel all of him, but you knew you needed to let him set the pace.

“You feel so good, you’re so tight...” His thoughts were mostly tame, things you’d heard men say before but he was so genuine, couldn’t even help running his mouth -- until his words were reduced to nothing but moans. Pornographic, pathetic, sexy.

When he’d finally buried himself to the hilt, he stilled his hips, keeping both of your orgasms at bay. Your hands never left his body because you couldn’t get enough of him, not even when he was entirely inside you. You thought you were being gentle but the marks left on his skin said otherwise.

Eventually, he began to thrust in and out of you slowly, and you could see that he was holding himself back.

“Leon, baby, you know you can go as slow or as fast as you want, yeah?”

“I wanna go faster but if I do, I’m gonna cum,” he said as if that wouldn’t be the hottest thing he could do.

“Yeah? I wanna see you cum, baby.”

“Fuck, really? Already?”

He didn’t wait for a response before he increased the pace of his thrusts rapidly, his hips leading and his mind following.

You tried to answer, but he was brushing against that sensitive spot inside you over and over again, so all you could manage was an ‘uh-huh’.

Frantically, he said, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” with a mixture of pleas and apologies. Neither of which you needed.

When he came, he threw his head back and let out an unbridled moan followed by labored breaths.

The sight of him sent you over the edge, scrambling for something to hold onto, your nails dug into his back. You nearly screamed his name as you shuddered through your high.

When you returned to reality, you saw complete bewilderment on Leon’s face. “Did you just cum?”

“Uh, yeah?” you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as you said it.

“I made you cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

Flopping down next to you, satisfied with himself, he asked, “Can we do that again?”

“Like right now?”

“Yeah, that was amazing.”

And you couldn’t agree more.

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