smut + fluff (little freaky moment for your Monday pick-me-up 😈😘)
You feel goosebumps rise as Joe’s sleeves rub against the back of you’re legs. With each turn of a corner you feel yourself deepen the kiss, Joe desperate to get you in bed. You finally feel him place you down on his mattress, slowly releasing you from his grasp, not daring to break eye contact.
His figure becomes a silhouette against the faded moonlight coming through his bedroom window. You can’t really see his face as it’s mostly dark, but you watch as he reaches to his waist to pull off his shirt, moving closer to you in the process. You sit up, head tilted up towards him as you open your legs, allowing him to stand as close to you as possible. He looks down to you with a smirk, reaching down to cup your face.
“I need you sweet girl.” He quietly, but sternly insists. “So take me Joe.” you smirk as you push yourself backwards on the bed, welcoming Joe’s presence. He climbs up until he’s hovering over you, two hands pressing down next to both sides of your face. You feel him tug at the hem of your dress and you move to allow him to remove it from you, which he does in a instant. He scans your body with a smile, no matter how many times he’s seen you like this, it always feels like the first. He comes down to your neck, nipping all the way down to your collarbone, earning a whimper out of you. He reaches to unclip your bra and removes it with one hand, while the other immediately attaches to your breast. He kisses and tugs at your breasts, smiling at each little sound that escapes your sweet lips.
Once he detaches his mouth, he kisses down your tummy, spreading your legs as he continues down inside your thighs. He bends your legs up and settles between them before meeting your line of vision. You watch as he teasingly removes your panties with a smirk, those baby blues holding strong contact the whole time. Once he’s done teasing, his tongue latches with your clit. You instantly moan out, not expecting his quick movement. He sucks and laps at your clit and smirks at your moan.
“Oh Joey…baby…” you continually moan his name which only turned him on more. There was something that just added fuel to fire hearing his name come off your lips when you were in this position. He adds a finger, slowly thrusting in and out before picking up the pace. Before you know it, Joe is pumping in and out of you as fast as he can, knowing your on the edge.
“Joey i’m gonna cum!” you practically scream out.
He detaches his mouth and continues to finger you. “Cum on my lips baby.” he pleads as he goes back to feasting on you. You feel your orgasm rise and before you know it you feel Joe’s tongue lapping at the mess you made. Looking down you notice your man smiling like a kid in a candy store. He continues to lick you clean until he’s satisfied, only earning more little moans from you. He brings himself back up to you, pulling you into a kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. He pulls away and flips you on your tummy, barely giving you time to catch yourself in the process.
“I’m gonna take you just like that my girl.” he purrs, making you forget the fact that you came just seconds ago, already aching for him. You hear him remove the rest of his clothing and before you can brace yourself, you feel him push himself into you. When you and Joe first had sex, he was slow to let you accept him, knowing it was a lot. He knew you were far more than capable now, and knew how much you liked when he was surprising rough with you. “oh my god” you breathily moan out. “Such a good girl, taking my whole cock at once.” he slowly starts to thrust, running a hand down your back, sending a shiver down your spine. He picks up the pace as he rests a hand on your butt, loving the way he felt you rock against him. You moan out to him, “more Joe!” to which he smirked. You feel him remove his hand from your skin and in an instant he gives your ass a smack. Joe knows exactly how to be with you, he knows you loved that sting, but didn’t want to leave you with any lasting marks. You cry out to him feeling the slight sting as he continues to thrust. “Again Joe!” You call out barely able to form words from the feeling of his cock inside you. “Be patient baby, I want to take my time.” he whispers. The next few minutes are filled with the sounds of skin slapping and curses from both of your mouths as you both recognize that familiar feeling. You feel Joe’s palm come down on your ass again, causing a heavy moan to leave your lips as you push back hard against Joe. Your climax takes over and a string of sounds fills the room as Joe joins you in his orgasm.
With a few more thrusts, Joe pulls out of you and you both topple over onto the bed. Nothing is said for a few moments, just heavy breathing. He turns to you, taking in your state and your breathing. “You okay?” he questions sounding concerned. Your eyes stay glued to the ceiling but you smile. “That was so good Joey, it’s just been a while since we’ve gone that hard.” You both laugh and he pulls you towards him.
“Did I go to far?” he whispers. “No baby, you know exactly my limits, that’s why I love you.” you respond pecking him on the nose.
“Hold on.” He says and you watch as he gets up from the bed and heads to the bathroom. He comes out with a wet washcloth and takes a seat next to you on your side of the bed. He gently pulls your legs towards him, careful not to hurt your now sore legs. He wipes your legs and massages your muscles a bit, earning sweet coos from you. You watch as he inspects your body, not in a sexual way, but in a loving and protective way. He grabs sweats from your drawer in his dresser and lays them next to you.
“Go pee, I’ll go get us a snack, that was like a full body workout.” He says leaving the room as his laugh trails behind him. You giggle to yourself as you walk to the bathroom to pee and change. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you blush as you notice the little red marks along your chest from your lover. You touch each one as they trail down your torso. You smile as you change into your pajamas and get back into Joes bed, beneath the covers. You turn on the TV and find a show you know will keep Joes attention.
Cosmos
Joe enters the room with two bowls. He sets them down and gets into bed with you, wearing nothing but his boxers. He reaches back to the bowls and hands you the bowl of raspberry sorbet.
“my favoriteeee” you purr and Joe smiles as he takes a scoop from his vanilla with rainbow sprinkles. “You’re such a child,” You tease. You loved the rough and intense side of Joe, but you also adored his sweet-innocent side that never seemed to disappear. You both sit in silence eating your ice-creams and watching the space show that held Joe in a trance. Once he decides to call it a night, he reaches over to shut out the lamp. You curl up next to each-other and you feel his arms snake around your waist.
“You need anything baby?” he whispers one last time. “No Joey, just hold me.” you respond moving your head closer to his. “I love you y/n,” you hear him mumble with his eyes shut.
“I love you too Joe,” you whisper. He holds you tighter as you both drift to sleep.
Here it is! Part One!
Remember this is a Rivals-To-Lovers, slow burn story with a Fem!reader.
This also takes place after Homecoming and before Endgame.
FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!
You and Peter Parker aren’t friends, but you’re not entirely enemy either. You don’t like him but he always tries to be nice to you.
He has everything you’ve ever wanted and you’ll do anything to show him that you can make it on your own.
But can you?
Blood was pounding in your ears, heart thundering in your chest as if spurred to life by some angered beast. The sensation of tingling nerves as your hand seemingly hovered, magnetically drawn, over the buzzer. Adrenaline drove you through the thrill as Mr. Harrington’s monotone voice echoed in your skull. The question floated in your mind, seeking its own answers locked away between the neurons of your brain.
With a snap of synapse your whole being jolted. Your palm slammed on the buzzer so hard that the light within shuddered a violent red. Mr. Harrington’s brown eyes widened in shock at the sound but her quickly composed himself.
“Midtown?”
“What is the Fibonacci Spiral.”
“Correct!” Mr. Harrington rang a little bell and turned his back to you. Finally, you allowed yourself to breathe, although it felt more like a wild gasp of air.
“Figures,” you heard someone grumble behind you, but you were too caught up in rolling off the high of affirmation. The mounting joy was building like the apprehension of riders on a roller coasters first crest of a large hill.
“Great job, Y/N. You’ll be heading the B team in Chicago.” And there was the stomach sinking drop. No cheers filled your ears, only disappointed thoughts barraged your mind.
“The B team? Doesn’t my improvement push me up to the A team?” The rest of the academic decathlon team fell silent at your question. You didn’t have to turn around to know that all eyes were on you. Almost all eyes.
“Well we already have Mr. Parker leading A team. We need to keep our heaviest hitters spread out through the sets of questions.” Your hands curled into tight fists. It would take you and ‘Mr. Parker’ to even out the intellect on B team. You opened your mouth to say exactly that when the school library doors flew wide. A red faced, panting, Peter Parker had decided to show up. Now, all eyes were on you as you loomed over the table.
“So, so sorry, this won’t happen again, I promise,” Peter said, his bright eyes shifting from you to Mr. Harrington. The man peered at him through his thick rimmed glasses with an almost fatherly expression. Peter, like a scolded child, dropped his backpack next to the others and found an empty seat on the other table, opposite you.
“It better not,” despite the veiled threat, Mr. Harrington’s voice was soft. “We need you in Chicago Peter. You’re our secret weapon.” If it weren’t for Peter’s awkward laugh, everyone could have heard your eyes rolling in their sockets. Ever since you were both young, Peter Parker had never failed to show you up. If he wasn’t deemed superior under the circumstances, then you were put on an equal footing that always set you more on edge than his overwhelming victories.
For instance, there was the first grade summer reading program. The program itself was not, in name a contest; but as soon as the plump librarian dotted on the fact that you and Peter were ‘neck and neck’ with the amount of books you had both read, you drove yourself to collect on a phantom prize. At the end-of-summer reading palooza party hosted by the public library, the final count was drawn in a tie. You and Peter had read a grand total of 42 books a piece, a hefty sum for a couple of seven year olds.
Then there was the infamous war forged on the third grade front of Mrs. Davis’ classroom. The lovely lady taught science, arguably your favorite subject and Peter’s realm of fascination. Mrs. Davis had both you and Peter in her fifth hour class and would often call on either of you to run errands for her before lunch period. The battle to be her teacher’s pet was intense between you and Peter. It was only in fourth grade did you both learn that being a teacher’s pet was the worst thing anyone could be, ever. Nevertheless, the seeds of animosity had sprouted that year and sixth grade only serves to nourish the growth.
The second year of middle school had not only stirred up the beginnings of puberty but also supplied an outlet for your budding hostility towards your academic rival. You weren’t one for physical education, much preferring a good book than a good jog, but dodge-ball was a godsend. Peter was as lanky as a stick bug, making him a smaller target but that also meant he couldn’t throw very far either. The dodge-ball intramural championship gave you your very first win against district-wide admiration of Peter Parker.
Despite how tall and suddenly handsome Peter had gotten over Summer break, your jealousy towards him remained. The flames were only stoked when girls would, happily, go up to talk to him, compliment him. Burning with envy, for which party, that you were unsure of, you finally talked to Peter. All years past, your competition to outdo each other had been silent. Not a word had passed between you before seventh grade and it only served to anger you further.
Peter was kind. So kind that he made you feel like your bitter rivalry had been one sided. Further fueled, you competed against him in a school hosted trivia night. However, the fates seemed to be against your thirst for conquest because you and Peter ended up on the same team. Granted, that team had won, but between you and Peter, no winner was named.
This fervent yet unspoken clash continued to grow as you both entered high-school. Freshman year had consisted of fighting to see which one of you would join the academic decathlon team first. Peter had made the A team and you the B team. The results presented a persistent conflict between you and the boy genius that had followed up to the current Junior year. Was it childish? Perhaps. Were you ever going to admit that? No.
The sound of a loud practice buzzer went off, breaking you out of your reflection. When you looked up at the table opposite, your jaw clenched. Of course it had been Peter to answer the question. His friend, Ned, clapped him on the shoulders and you felt your own tense up.
“Correct, as always, Mr. Parker.” Mr. Harrington changed the score on the board and you felt your skin crawl. Peter was always the star pupil, no matter how well you performed in his absence. “Alright next question. Hypertrichosis is colloquially known by this name…”
The meat of your palm stung when it impacted with the buzzer. “What is Werewolf Syndrome.”
“Correct!”
You smiled smugly, reclining back in the uncomfortable chairs that, on some vile whim, the school board had deemed perfect for the campus library. Ready to gauge Peter’s disappointment in himself, you spared a glance his way. You found his brown eyes on you, lips offered you half of a smile. You wanted to gag. The role of team player had never suited you, but Peter worn it well like the clothes on his back.
“Well, that ties up our practice scores!” Your head seemed to spin out of your control as you snapped your gaze to the white, erase marker board Mr. Harrington was holding up. Just once, that was all you wanted, to win. “That gives me the opportunity to talk about the trip to Chicago.”
A chorus of limited cheers and apprehensive stares flooded the room. MJ finally looked up from her book at the news of the field trip. Some of the team was still reeling from their last one. Washington had been a great victory if you ignored how they almost died afterwards.
“It’s gonna be fun guys!” A cheerful cry from Betty, a lovely blonde sophomore. She hadn’t been on the trip to Washington. Flash, how was sitting beside you, let out a snicker at the younger girl’s optimism.
“That’s right, thank you, Betty,” Mr. Harrington continued, “sadly, due to budget cuts, we will be taking a smaller bus this time. Pack lightly and tell your parents that you will be safe. Everyone signed the waivers, yes?” Most of the team spoke up in response. “Great. Now remember, meet at the front doors at five fifty-five. We’ll be leaving the school at six.”
“So much for the healthy, professionally recommended eight hours of sleep,” MJ remarked, bringing a smile to your lips. You had never had a long conversation with her, but from what experiences you did have with MJ, you took her to be the wittiest person you had ever met. Much to your amusement, that same wit had a tiring effect on Mr. Harrington who, after MJ’s critique, promptly dismissed the team.
You stood swiftly and began to gather your things. The team had a bad habit of stacking bags on top of one another, so it took a moment for you to find you backpack. Once you dug it out of the stack of bags, you spun on your heel and nearly fell face-first into Peter.
“Oh, s-”
“Watch it, Parker,” you snap before the blush on your cheeks became too visible. he warmth from his body had dulled the flames of embarrassment for a moment before you had realized how close you were to him. You didn’t give Peter a chance to reply as you pushed past him. Luckily, it seemed that no one had noticed the dusting of pink along your face.
The white-hot soreness was put to rest by the crisp afternoon breeze of New York. While Midtown School of Science and Technology wasn’t in the heart of the city, it was close enough to the bay where, every now and then, a gentle breeze would carry off from the water. Such a gust was especially felt after school when the sun was no longer at its peak. The receding sunshine made for a cool walk home.
You adjusted the straps of your bag more securely over your shoulders, hoping to keep your mind off of the moment before. Any interaction with Peter had the innate gift of setting you on edge. You clenched your jaw as you walked, the grinding of your teeth drowning out the pestering thoughts of him. However the one sound that wasn’t overshadowed was the quick pattering of feet on the length of sidewalk behind you.
“Y/N! Wait up!’ You turned your head for a brief moment and, after recognizing the figure chasing after you, you picked up your pace. “Y/N!”
“Not now, Flash, I have stuff to do!” You felt a hand grab your wrist and you stopped in place. Glaring at your peer, you yanked your hand away.
“It will only take a moment.” Teeth gritted, you stared at him.
“It better be worth it.”
Flash gave you a startlingly smug grin as you followed him into a nearby coffee shop. He ordered some absurdly complicated mocha-cappuccino concoction before you both found a secluded table. If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have enjoyed the shop. It was painted a calming sea-blue and littered with antiques of all sorts. The interior gave off a relaxed aura that was brutally interrupted when Flash sat in front of you as he stirred an alarming amount of sugar in his already frothy drink.
“Alright, I have a proposition for you,” Flash said, placing his coffee stirrer on a napkin.
“A proposition? What are you, a mob boss?”
“Nah,” Flash said coolly as he waved his hand in dismissal, “just a boss in general.” You had to keep yourself from gagging as he continued. “It’s clear to me, everyone really, that you’re not Peter Parker’s biggest fan.”
You let out an amused huff. “Really? You’ve noticed?”
“Neither am I,” Flash said, having ignored your remark. “Which is why I extend an olive branch to you.”
“What does this olive branch entail?” You leaned forward with a quirked brow, eyeing Flash. He had your attention.
“You want to be on A team, as do I. No one can move up with Peter sitting there with his other nerd friends. With the right manner of,” Flash leaned close to whisper, “sabotage, we can both get what we want.”
“Sabotage?” You leaned back in your seat, eyes skirted the features of the weasel before you. What Flash was selling was enticing, but the idea of stooping to his level was wholly unappealing. Or perhaps it was the prospect of playing dirty that appalled you, the risk of actually hurting Peter maybe. You shook your head. “Not interested.”
“Hold on, hold on, you haven’t heard my plan yet,” Flashed raised his hands to calm you, keep you listening. “One of us would befrien-”
“Really, not interested Flash,” you interrupted as you stood up from your seat. “I don’t need to ‘sabotage’ him, I’m better than him.”
“Judging by your stable and steady position on the B team, it seems like you might not be.” Rage, pure, unadulterated rage flooded your body and turned your sight red. You turned to glare at Flash before you stomped out of the coffee shop.
You didn’t need him, you thought as the cool air hit your face once more, don’t need anyone. For you entire life, you had been going it alone so what was something more? You would show Flash and, hopefully, Peter. That leading spot on the A team was going to be yours.
“Y/N, hold on! I’m sorry, but please, listen!” You kept walking and, when he realized he was being ignored, Flash hurried to your side. “If you don’t to sabotage him, can we at least train together? If we’re like really good maybe the city can organize for us to meet Spiderman or even Iron Man! He gave that internship to Parker of all people so maybe-”
“What is it with you and Spiderman?” You countered, hoping to get off the road of this conversation with a well-worn detour.
“I dunno, he’s just….he’s like really cool! Did I ever tell you about the time at Homecoming he took my car?! It was-”
“You told everyone about that,” you grumbled, clearly annoyed. “Why don’t you find someone that doesn’t know that story, yeah?”
You took advantage of his silence and darted quickly down the block. Flash’s strength of talking when no one wanted him to was also his greatest weakness. One that could be easily exploited if you were in need of a getaway. Home was just a few more blocks down.
As you rounded a corner, you nearly ran into a couple walking by. The man’s arm was lazily slung over the woman’s shoulder, who smiled so brightly it was almost like she had been paid to do it. The couple exchanged giggles as you passed by and your heart sank. It had been normal for you to be so painfully focused on the academic side of your life that you had neglected almost every other facet of it. That included romance.
Peter and his ridiculously large brain and his shy little smile took up far too much of your time for you to have even entertained a relationship. Books and trivia apps were your closest friends. Your family was a different story altogether. From the moment Peter Parker walked into your life, everything had changed. You imagined his life had changed too.
As you walked, a shadow fluttered over the length of sidewalk before you. Ever so curious, you looked up to see a man swinging from building to building; Spiderman, specifically. He was hard to miss with the bright red suit and flailing limbs, spindly like his name sake. The powered man looked just as you remembered him from the first time you had seen him. Up close, he had looked more like a boy than man as he safely loaded you and the rest of the team in the elevator inside the Washington Monument on solid ground.
It all felt like a distant memory as the apartment complex you called home came into sight. Everything that last year had felt clean and safe, perfectly juxtaposed to life now. Spiraled out of control, you had once said to your mother. She hadn’t responded and you knew that she wouldn’t. You climbed the steps, as the elevator was out of order, all the way to the eighth story.
By the time you had unlocked the door, your feet ached for respite. As you kicked off your shoes, the sound of them as they hit the floor echoed in through the apartment. There was no carry-over bustle from the streets. The exposed brick bore no life in the form of family portraits. No one was home except for you and your thoughts; as usual.
You woke the next morning at five. Luckily, before you had fallen asleep, you had enough foresight to pack for the Chicago trip. Textbooks to read during the drive, clothes for the three day stay, and your favorite green sweatshirt already thrown over your loose t-shirt. From the last trip, you had learned to wear comfy clothes for long bus drives. The twelve hours from the school to Chicago was the perfect excuse to dress lazily.
From the near-empty fridge, you grabbed snacks and bottled water for the road. Already, the idea of competing with the highest ranked schools in The Windy City made your stomach churn. With the twisting nerves, you decided to skip breakfast. A poor choice, you soon realized as you lugged your bag down the seemingly endless flights of stairs.
By the time five fifty-five rolled around, you were sweaty from the trek from your home to the school. Mr. Harrington looked exhausted but the ever spry young Literature teacher, Ms. Lauren, chattered away to the team as they boarded the small bus.
“Ok kids, I know you’re tired, but put your bags in the back of the bus so we can easily unpack it when we get to the hotel.” You wondered if Ms. Lauren happened to be a morning person or if the large, travel mug of coffee held tight in her hands had anything to do with her wide smile.
Once your bag was stacked with the rest, you settled in a seat towards the front. MJ’s mass of curls popped up in a seat nearby, her sneaker-clad feet hung out in the aisle. Ned and Betty, the blonde sophomore, idly chatted, talking about the last time they had been up so early. Late, as usual, Peter Parker made his way on the bus.
“You’re lucky this wasn’t practice, peebag,” Flash sneered when Peter walked past him. The skinny boy dragged a suitcase behind him, one of the front pockets unzipped showed a type of red workout shirt. Or at least you assumed as much, judging by the look of the material.
“Hi Peter,” Ned greeted loudly, making you crane your neck to glare in their direction. It was much too early for pleasantries.
“Hey, Ned,” Peter said quietly as he added his bag to the pile. He gave Betty a nod of greeting before working his way back to the front of the bus. He stopped beside MJ’s seat, just in front of you. “Can I?”
MJ only glared in response, her legs remained sprawled lengthwise along the seat. Peter sighed and turned to look for any other empty seat. As he did, the rather crabby looking bus driver had slammed the bus door shut. The small bus jolted and Peter gripped the edge of your seat tightly, as he kept from falling.
“Is this seat taken?” Peter asked you, his tried looking brown eyes met your gaze in earnest. You stared back at him, mouth parted as your mind tried to register what was happening. It seemed that Fate was against you once more.
“Sit down kid!” The gravelly voiced of the bus driver reached your ears and pulled you back to the present. Locked eyes tore away from Peter’s as you moved. You scooted down the bus seat until your side was pressed up against the window. Peter said a soft ‘thank you’ but you were much too peeved to reply. You hoped that if you pressed your cheek against the cool surface of the window that the blush that had burned into your skin would fade. No such luck.
However, what it did cool, was your heated thoughts. A dull ache that had plagued you since you had wakened vanished. Finally at some sort of ease, you allowed yourself to close your already hooded eyes. You felt warmth as you drifted off to sleep, a safety you hadn’t had in a long time.
Whether it was the jolt or the sunlight filtering through the slightly grimy bus window that woke you, you were unsure. All you knew was that you were comfortable. Slowly, your eyes opened as you cringed against the rising sun. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since you had left, but tiredness still seeped into your bones.
It was when the sounds of snickering filled yours ears that you awoke fully. The telltale sound of a phone’s digital camera shutters clicked off and you were thrown into a frenzy of embarrassment as you realized why you were so comfortable in the first place. As if his body had burned you, you pulled your head away from Peter’s shoulder. You narrowly avoided knocking skulls thanks to an alarming quick reaction on Peter’s part.
“What?!” Your shout caused the growing crowd around you and Peter to scurry off.
“Ar-Are you okay?” Peter’s soft brown eyes met yours and held the utmost, disgusting amount of concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine. The bus jus-just jolted,” you grumbled in reply. Peter nodded but you knew that he knew it was a lie. You had never been quite good at lying.
“Oh, o-okay,” Peter murmured before he fumbled with his phone. You rested the side of your face against the window once more and watched other cars race by. Silently you hoped that the movement would keep you awake. Out of the corner of your eye, you observed Peter as he attempted to untangle his earbuds. He gave up halfway through and put the small speakers in his ears. The cover art on his lockscreen read ‘Bastille’ in bold white font. Of course he had good taste in music too, you thought bitterly.
The twelve hour drive dwindled down to it’s final hours, marked but the periodic buzzing of Peter’s phone on his lap. After it went off three times in a row you looked at in annoyance and hoped Peter would take the hint. The notification was a text from MJ with nondescript emojis, including the squirt gun one. Peter didn’t seem to have noticed your glare and happily responded to the messages.
You let out an audible groan at the sight of his smile. The boyish, upwards quirk of his lips was nothing short of adorable and it physically pained you. Not only was Peter Parker smart and seemingly kind, but he was cute too. As well, at least from what you assumed from the messages, taken by one of the smartest girls in school. It simply wasn’t fair.
“Is Pissbag Parker annoying you?” Flash’s voice crept up from the seat behind you and made you jump slightly in your seat. Before you replied, Peter plucked out an earbud.
“Is everything okay?”
“You being too loud? Y/N here doesn’t seem to happy.” Flash’s taunts seemed to frighten Peter as he looked to you.
“N-No I’ve been quiet this whole time,” he stammered. Flash rolled his eyes and opened his mouth with a readied retort. You took the pause and stepped in.
“Peter’s been fine, Flash. A more agreeable bus partner than you are to John.” You gestured over to the skinny, black-haired boy Flash was sat beside. “Why don’t you be quiet?”
“Alright,” Flash said as he sat back down in his seat. You groaned again and turned back, only to have locked eyes with Peter once more.
“What? He was being annoying,” you said, justifying your rudeness.
“Y-yeah, n-no it’s jus-” Peter was cut off by a buzz. His phone lit up in his hand. Another message from MJ. You bit the inside of your cheek to quell the jealousy, but your envy spilled out before you could stop it.
“You better answer that,” you snapped before you settled back against the window. You let out a huff and hoped silently that the next few hours of the drive would go by quickly. It was torture, being sat next to Peter Parker and knowing full well just how more complete he was than you. Or, maybe it was the fact he was complete without you.
What do you think, my friends?? I hope you liked the first installment! I promise this story picks up, it’s a slow burn, like I said!
[CONTENT WARNING: MILD GORE [HARM TO ONE EYE, AN ARM BEING PULLED OFF], MILD BLOOD [ROBOT BLOOD THOUGH]]
“CLARA, NO!”
Nigel crumples to the floor, landing face-down after the face-first impact with a wall. His accents flicker and dim into black. That claw-- it threw Nigel hard enough to leave a dent in the panels, some of them even showing cracks and signs of damage.
So… if that’s what happened to just the wall…
...what about him?
And who the hell is Clara?
Time seems to have slowed down during those moments, at least, for 18-- so much adrenaline. So much happening. She finds herself shoved to the floor, bearing witness to Nigel hitting the wall with a sickening crack.
18 freezes up, seeing the orange android on the ground. Her pulse is loud in her ears, and she’s unable to process what just happened. Who the hell is Clara, and why did he…
The shock slowly turns into anger. She pushes herself off the ground, grunting at dull pain in various parts of her body. First thing's first-- get Nigel, then get out. Not the best plan, but... Virgil, or, whatever he is, now, is in control of the entire facility… and absolutely pissed at her, specifically, for some reason.
“Virgil” snarls, the corruption in his programming now so overbearing it warps his voice, “There. Now you let go. Are you going to leave, yourself, or am I going to have to aim for an opening the next time I throw you across the room? Nigel can’t get in the way this time.” The claw that had made Nigel essentially a battering ram recoils back, like a snake about to strike.
“You bastard,” 18 hisses, her voice cold, harsh, and laced with enough venom to kill a rhino. She scrambles over to Nigel and grabs him, turning him over-- being up close to him like this is... oh boy. Glowing, orange ooze covers his face and some of his clothes, now getting in his hair after pooling on the floor. The source of the artificial, neon blood is the shattered remains of what was once his left eye and earpiece, cracks sourcing from there and spread outwards like a spider’s web. Shards of orange-tinted hard light remain scattered on the floor, from his visor being smashed, before flickering away, seemingly out of existence.
Nigel is completely motionless -- it’d be easy to mistake him for some kind of corpse, but he’s not so badly damaged that he can’t be turned back on, at least. He’ll need some help, some repairs, and fast. But… are there any other ways to fix him without Virgil’s help?
Another claw whips out, snapping at the duo, trying to grab one or both of them. It latches onto Nigel-- the upper right part of his torso, specifically, due to the awkward angle the claw is coming from. It begins to tug on him. Very hard.
18 tightens her grip on Nigel, her breath hitching. Oh, no, she is NOT going to lose. Not again. Her features form a snarl, sweat forming on her brow as she shoots a sharp glare at “Virgil”.
But.. it’s not good enough. She isn't going to win, she knows this. She’s already tired and worn. “...I need to think of something…”
Desperate and impulsive as ever, she decides to take a huge risk.
She grabs her paint gun and aims a glob of repulsion gel at the corrupted android’s face. The blue gel is a good choice for blinding someone, though-- adhesive and rubbery, likely hard to clean off surfaces, judging by occasional reprimands in the past about how expensive it is.
It lands, splattering all over his cherry red visor. “Virgil” recoils, taken off-guard for a moment-- an opening for the test subject.
Taking a deep breath, she gets up and adjusts her hold on Nigel, trying to yank him free from the claw. There’s some kind of popping noise, alongside tearing, but she chooses to ignore it. She’s pumped with enough adrenaline to give a horse a heart attack, and not anywhere near willing to give up just yet. “Let go of him, or... I’ll shoot you again! I’ll get your-- your port gummed up!”
“Mm. Go on, try that. I dare you.” The chassis-bound android taps a button on his earpiece, drawing the gel-coated visor away from his face.
The claw latched onto Nigel abruptly pulls back.
Pop.
18 feels sick to her stomach as Nigel’s arm gets ripped clean off, leaving frayed wires and torn cloth behind. More of that luminescent orange liquid comes pouring out, leaving the test subject panicked, reaching down for-- her apron. Her eyes lock onto the article of clothing lying several feet away on the floor. “...dammit.”
Can she pull this off?
Maybe.
Her chances of aiming right a second time are probably very, very slim.
She aims the gun, once again, at “Virgil’s” face, then quickly lunges for the--
The shot misses, and a claw clamps down around her torso. She squirms, unable to move much with her arms pinned to her sides, as she’s forced to be face-to-face with the corrupt android. To make sure she doesn’t escape, a few loose cords join the claw in holding her.
“You know what you are?”
18 half-heartedly chuckles, trying to laugh in the face of fear. It’s hard, and not really working out. “A wonderful human being and a delight to be around?”
“Nothing. You’re nothing.” The words being hissed, plus them coming out in the voice of a core who had previously been.. Relatively okay towards her, turns the test subject’s blood into ice. “You’re just a number on a piece of paper. No, not even that!”
For a moment, 18’s hardened expression breaks. He hit a soft spot, causing her to stop struggling for a moment. Only a moment. No. NO! He's messing with her head, trying to break her. She's not going to let that corrupt android have the satisfaction. The test subject wrinkles her nose and spits right in the corrupted android’s face, then tries slamming her head into the bridge of his nose with a battle cry.
“I'm made of metal and synthetics, dear, you're the only one that's going to be reeling from that.” “Virgil” sarcastically remarks, barely even flinching.
“Wanna know a thing about metal and synthetics?” He, or… whatever he is anymore... he’s right. Her head is killing her, that mistake is probably going to leave a nice cut or bruise on her head. “They suck. And guess what?”
“What?”
“Your mission is not to accept the mission.”
“Paradoxes don’t hurt m--m----” As if to spite the fact he had just said that, he freezes up, his accents flickering. The claw and cords release their vice grip on the test subject with a spasm.
With a yelp and a lot of stumbling, 18 lands on the panels. “Holy crap... that actually worked.” She’d have to pat herself on the back later. Right now, she needs to grab Nigel and book it. With the unknown amount of time given by the simple paradox, she has to make use of it, and quick. Dashing over to Nigel-- wait, where's the apron? She forgot to grab it! She dashes and snatches the “lucky” piece of clothing from the floor in one smooth motion on her way over to the android.
Grunting, she lugs the one-armed core up onto her back, like trying to give a corpse a piggyback ride. He keeps slipping from her grip-- no thanks to that glowy orange crap (What is it? Oily glow stick fluid?) getting on her hands. She needs to get him out of here, but… THERE! 18 spots a slim opening in the wall; some panels must have been moved by the way the trio had previously entered, or maybe they’ve been jolted by “Virgil” getting badly affected by the paradox. Hopefully, she can fit Nigel through it, ego and all.
The clock is ticking.
The test subject drags the android to the opening, beginning to wheeze from the rush and strain she’s been through in the past hour or two. She keeps looking over her shoulder at the spasming, murderous robot, as she shoves Nigel through to the other side.
Aaand he gets stuck.
“Gah… sorry, idiot.” She kicks him a few times, having to force him through the opening. Now, it’s her turn, going in feet first-- she glances back at Virgil and gives him the finger-- and swiftly slides through, cutting her arm on a panel on the way.
18 reaches back and pulls on one of the panels, trying to get her escape route closed off before the window of opportunity closes. It’ll likely be soon. Whether that paradox has just been causing Virgil to freak out for a long time, or time is just going slower thanks to a burst of adrenaline, it’s still been going on too long to afford making any more mistakes.
Thankfully, it isn’t too hard to wrench it just close enough to her to not seem like a suspiciously large gap; not big enough for a human and an android to slip through anymore.
“...nn….” Nigel groans and shifts a little, his accents dimly flickering. His shoulder is still losing a good amount of good old glowy android blood. That should probably get looked at.
“Oh, thank God, you're alive...ish.”
“...C...Cl…” He’s not currently able to really form words just yet. Probably almost delirious, if androids are capable of that, really.
The test subject slowly lowers him properly to the ground after dragging his metal butt who knows how long through a dimly lit catwalk. After sitting him up against the railing, only then does 18 realize she’s shaking. The glow stick blood is all over her hands and shirt, and Nigel is still losing more. Hopefully blood loss isn’t too fatal for androids, considering how much he’s losing...
“Don't talk, okay? I'm going to stop the bleeding, Tangerine. You... do hear me, right? Give me a sign that you can hear me.”
Nigel’s good eye flutters open, half-lidded and dim. He looks up at 18, softly murmuring some attempt at a confirmation that he can, in fact, hear her.
“Good enough for me.” Her voice is an octave higher than normal, raised by anxiety and stress. Oh, the damage is-- she glances away, audibly gulping-- the damage is hard to look at, but she has to stop him from losing any more ‘blood’. Obviously, he needs the glow stick juice to live, and she needs Nigel to get out of here.
“If there's any pain, then, sorry, my bad. I don't... exactly know what I'm doing...” She begins to twist the loose wires, tucking them into gaps so they don’t get caught on anything. Oddly, she actually kind of knows what she’s doing. The test subject figures out how to disconnect sensors, hopefully dampening whatever pain the poor core must be feeling. The leaking, though… she can’t just twist that away. She needs to clog it up, or stop it entirely.
“...I'm… I'm sorry, Nigel.”
“...hh… hhhhhey…” The android moves his arm, trying to lift it. He sounds tired, but almost intelligible.
“Don't. It's my fault-- ah--!” She hisses under her breath; she just shocked herself. Maybe she should take a step back for a moment.
The events of the past few moments slowly catch up to her as the adrenaline in her veins ebbs away, dying. Almost like Nigel nearly did... “I tried… I tried, and look at what happened. God...” She runs a gel and ‘blood’-covered hand through her hair. “Just… just hold still...”
“Hey, hey--” Nigel slowly raises his arm, resting his good hand on the test subject’s face. “...it’s… okay, C… Clll…” He’s shaky, but he’s alive.
“It's not! It is NOT okay! You were right! Look what I did--” 18 cuts herself off, registering the touch to her face. “What are you doing..?”
“...Cl...ara…”
“Who? Who is Clara? Gah-- no, I need to stop the bleeding, you're getting worse!”
“....I thought… I thought you were Clara.”
“...I'm… I’m nobody, remember?” 18 pulls away, looking around. How to clog the... Apron! Her apron! Duh, she grabbed it just to try and patch up his arm-- she quickly pulls it out and shoves it over the wound, wadding it up and making an attempt to tie a knot to secure it.
“There... okay! That should stop the bleeding… for now, at least. You're going to be fine. You BETTER be fine! Or… or... I'll do... something...”
Tiger land was once again lit up following LSU’s win over Auburn. Beer and sweat lingered throughout the air, especially in this particular bar where most of the players were. You were excited to come out and celebrate with all your friends. LSU home games were like nothing you’d ever seen, especially with this season, as they are currently undefeated.
Grabbing drinks with your friends, you all find a place to stand and attempt to talk through the blasting music. Most of them gushing over the fact that the team was across the room. Your friend Abigail grabs your hand and pulls you toward the dance floor.
“So you ever gonna tell them?” she yells over the music as you both squeeze between people. “Neh, it’s not even important. Besides, I went on a date the other night,” You smirk. “With Joe!?” Her eyes widened and you roll your eyes. “No. Not with Joe, with Anthony.” You lean in close to make sure she can hear you. “WOW, his friend? How was it? I mean i’m sure it wasn’t better than sex with Joe Burrow,” She rambles. You nudge her a bit, “It was good…I mean, definitely not my type, but we had a nice dinner together and we went out for drinks.” You shrug. “But your right, not at all better than my hookup with Joe.” You whisper loudly with a wink and she laughs.
You and Joe met a few months ago and there was always so much tension, everyone could sense it. A few weeks ago he finally made a move and you some how found yourself in Joe Burrow’s sheets the next morning, but of course, he was already gone for practice. Obviously you expected this, this was what he was know for doing all across campus, yet girls continued to flock to his apartment. For whatever the reason is, you were a little disappointed. I mean, prior to just a few weeks ago, you and Joe were actually becoming close as friends and it was kind of fun. You obviously thought he was cute, and besides the cockiness, he really was a funny, genuine guy. He hadn’t reached out to you or anything, so you decided to try to push it to the back of your mind and distract yourself with Anthony.
After a while of dancing and shots, Abby pulls you to the bathroom line which of course was practically out the door. “Okay so, do you think your mastermind plan will work?” Abby says turning to you in line. You roll your eyes at her comment, “Abby.” You shoot her a look, “for the last time, there is no “mastermind plan”, Joe just wanted a hookup and it was mutual, Anthony just happens to be a friend of Joe’s,” You finish that last part with a slight smirk that Abby doesn’t necessarily pick up on. “Oh please, It’s so obvious you have a thing for him and he clearly has a thing for you, I just wish he could swallow is ego and admit it,” she says. “No I mean i get it, you know, like it was just a hookup. But i guess i’ve just never had one like that before, there was so much connection to it, it felt different you know?” Abby just gives you a look that tells you she can see right through you. “Whatever, all I know is his eyes have been glued to you all night.” She says turning back to enter the bathroom. You smile to yourself at the thought. It’s not like you were trying to make Joe jealous, I mean he probably won’t even find out about you and Anthony.
Walking out of the hall, you pass the large table where the players were seated, you both try to pass quickly but a hand reaches out to stop you. “y/n!” Anthony smiles. “Hey!” you turn to him. Abby is also greeted by one of the guys. “How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in a minute,” He says loudly over the music. You lean down to get closer so it’s easier for you two to make conversation. “I’m really good.” you smile and continue to talk with him, oblivious of the pair of eyes staring daggers into the two of you.
More girls have found their way to the table and the whole section of the bar was a mob scene of people. You’re deep in a conversation with Anthony, leaned in very close to his face to be able to hear him when suddenly he’s interrupted, “Anthony man i don’t know what drink you ordered but i’m gonna need two more, could you go grab some?” Joe says standing next to you now. “Yeah man no problem” he responds. You watch Anthony as he gets up, careful to avoid acknowledging Joe, but that is forced to come to an end when he sits in front of you where Anthony was and pulls you forward to sit next to him.
He doesn’t say anything, just scans your face for a moment causing you to raise you’re eyebrows. “Can I help you Joe?” You smirk a little, but his face stays stoic, almost angry looking. “Didn’t know you were close with Anthony,” he says. “Yeah he’s my friend.” You say, causing a laugh out of Joe. “what?” you question. “Well, i mean, I didn’t know you went on dates and made out with your friends.” He replies sharply. “Ohhh” you reply, watching as Anthony gathers the drinks from the bar, but Joe reaches up and turns your face back towards him. You bit your lip to suppress the smile from Joes action. “I don’t get why it matters what I do or who I do it with,” You say. “Besides, Anthony’s a really cool guy, I see why you’re good friends with him.” You smile as you take a sip of your drink. “I’m not really good friends with him, I just think it’s stupid that you have to go after my friends cause you’re mad.” he says loudly over the music. You shoot him a look, “I’m not mad Joe, I don’t care that you wanted to hit and quit, so stop being a little bitch and acting like you care what I do with your friends.” You put your glass down and stand up to meet Anthony half way as he brings back the drinks.
After placing them down, the guys all scamper to grab one, but Joe remains in his position, staring at you as you grab Anthony’s hand. You pull him to the dance floor and see Abby shoots you a look that told you she knew exactly what you were doing. The two of you get lost in the large crowd, his hands all over you in an instant. The loud music, the crowd, Anthony’s hands, the thought of Joe; all gave you a high that brought a smile to your face. You knew Joe was mad, you also knew he wouldn’t admit it, but it was still fun to get him going.
After what felt like hours of dancing, a very drunk Anthony hung onto you as you made your way through the crowd. Walking back to your original table, you accidentally lock eyes with the pair that had been watching you all night. You watch as he turns to a few of the guys and says something to them. Soon after two of them head over to your table. “Hey y/n, we got Anthony, he’s too shit faced to make his way home, we’ll get an uber with him,”Justin says. “Are you sure? I mean I was planning on heading out anyway, I could call one,” you ask. “Nah, it’s all good he’s our neighbor we got it. See ya around.” He says as he and the other guy pull Anthony along out of the bar.
You finally decide it’s time to go as the bar was mostly drunks and most of your friends had left, you texted Abby that you were waiting outside, given you didn’t want to go back over to Joe’s table to get her.
You were about to request an uber, when you felt a hand on your back. You turn around to find Joe with a face you had never seen before. You’ve seen him at his most ecstatic point, his cockiest, and even his angriest, but never like this. He looked almost defeated. “Joe-” he cuts you off. “I hate seeing you with him, hate it.” he says flat out. “The way he touches you, the way he looks at you, I hated every second of what I couldn’t take my eyes off of in there.” He says moving inches away from you. You’re forced to look up at him now and you can feel that familiar sensation in your stomach. “What are you talking about Joe, stop acting like you wanted something to come out of the other night. I know you and I know how you work, you don’t want anything but sex.” you reply rolling your eyes at him. He grabs your hand and you try to yank it away but he holds on. “I know, I know, and I don’t know where this is coming from, but I just don’t want you with anyone else okay?” his face holds some kind of sincerity you’ve never seen before. “Joe Burrow…” you smile, “are you…jealous?” you raise your eyebrows waiting for an answer. He just stares at you as you continue to smile, until he finally breaks. He crashes his lips into yours and before you can think, your hands are cupping his cheeks. His hands move across your whole body as he holds you close. When you pull away you smile, but his face stays stoic. “Maybe I am jealous y/n…” he starts moving so that his lips are inches from yours, “cause I don’t want anyone to touch you the way I do.”
You feel yourself hit the wall as your back makes its way through Joe’s apartment. He moves from your lips to your neck, sucking hard to get a moan out of you. He pulls you into his bedroom, slamming the door behind you both.
Pushing you on the bed, he goes to undo his belt but you stop him, replacing his hands with yours. He pulls your shorts down instead and practically rips you’re flimsy “LSU” tank top off your chest. You finally get his pants to hit the floor and push him onto the bed so the two of you can switch spots. You make him move up so you can position yourself perfectly between his legs. You take his cock in hand and start to stroke him, earning an immediate moan from him. You were surprised he was letting you do this, his whole claim to fame is his constant dominance in the bedroom, but you weren’t complaining whatsoever.
Taking him into your mouth, you gag as he hits the back of your throat. “Yes baby, like that” he says as you start to bob your head. “that feels so good y/n.” you moan against his cock and continue to work him until he insists he’s about to fall over edge. You replace your mouth with your hands and stroke him quickly, not daring to lose eye contact. “cum joey” you lick his tip one last time before he lets go and his orgasm hits, you clean him dry of every last drop.
“fuck” he moans out as he lies there for a moment. He looks down to find you smiling, and you could swear you saw something switch is his eyes. He pulls you on top of him, only to flip positions to put you beneath him. He sets you on all fours and puts himself right behind you. “You like being put in place huh?” he says, you only moan in return feeling him slide your panties to the side and run a finger along your pussy.
“Joe, please i need you,” you beg as he continues to toy with you. You feel him lick along your center and let out a moan as he removes his tongue. Deciding to make this a little more fun, you bring your hand down to your center and start to play with yourself. “Joe, I swear to god, i’ll do this myself if you don’t want to help me,” you moan out as you feel his body stiffen behind you. He pushes your hand away and replaces it with his, causing you to gasp. Suddenly you feel him push into you and you can hold back the sound that escapes your lips. You rock into him desperate for movement. “No.” he says, “stop being needy and let me fuck you how I want to.” he demands as he begins to rock into you.
“Joe, oh my god.” you shake out, you have felt him before, but you don’t think you could ever get used to this. “I know baby.” He thrusts harder and faster each time and you can’t do anything but melt beneath him. Both of you moan at the feeling of one another and you feel that familiar feeling arise in your stomach.
“Joe, i’m gonna cum.” you moan out. He continues to thrust into you while wrapping a hand around you to meet your center. He rubs at your clit, causing you to scream out to him. “Come on baby, cum for me.” and that was all it took to send you over edge. He does the same just seconds after finishing with a few last thrusts before you both collapse onto the bed.
“Wow” was all you could say. He laughs in return and pulls you into him. You nuzzle against his chest and look up to him, “did i find Joe Burrow’s soft spot?” you giggle. “hmmm maybe.” he says smiling down to you. The two of you drift off to sleep and you’re pleasantly surprised to find him beside you the next morning.
Thank you for the requests everyone, I promise i’m making my way through them 🫶
Thank you for this beautiful request! I hope I followed the storyline to your liking. TW: mentions of pregnancy/miscarriage
“She’s so beautiful.” You smile as you coddle your sisters newborn. You adore her with your whole heart, but can’t help to feel a little saddened by the thought of her as well. Your sister had brought up the idea of pregnancy just a few months after being married, and before you knew it, she was growing a bump. You and your husband on the other hand, haven’t been so lucky.
Last season was a roller coaster of emotions for both you and Joe. The pressure of Joe’s rising fame, a successful playoff run, and trying to start a family was a lot to say the least. Joe assured you he was ready and that this was what he wanted, but you two just hadn’t had any luck. You were starting to get worried and even visited your OB who assured that you were in fact fertile and would be for many more years. You two spent the off-season traveling and relaxing together. It was a much different environment than during the season; however it was about to be that time of year again.
September was your favorite month. Not only because it was your birthday, but it felt like a signal month. A signal for football season, a signal for a weather change, and a signal for the holidays. Arguably some of your three favorite things.
“Joe!” You call out, arriving home from your sisters. You find him reviewing some film upstairs and wrap your arms around his body. “Hi y/n” he smiles looking at you rest your head on his in the reflection of the mirror. “How’s the baby?” he asks. “She’s good, she’s healthy and Fara says she’s right on track for all her measurements.” He pauses the film and turns to you, “That’s good to hear.” He stands up and pulls you into his arms. You giggle as he squeezes, pulling you onto the bed with him. He lies next to you and leans in to kiss you. He rolls on-top of you and hovers over your mouth. “Joe, I don’t know, I’m not really in the mood for more disappointment.” You shrug.
“hey…that is not the attitude we need right now. You know anytime can be the time.” He raises his eyebrows convincingly. “I know it’s hard baby, but we can’t give up. This is what we’ve wanted for almost a year now.” You nod and pull him into your lips.
3 weeks later
“I know, I know, tell everybody i miss them and i’ll see them soon. Okay, love you, bye.” You hang up with Robin and frown to yourself. This was the first game of the season, and you were sick as a dog. It was only 10 am, but tailgating had already begun and had people looking for you. Joe left before you woke up, you felt him kiss you goodbye just minutes before hurdling to the toilet to throw up. Since then you have been lying in bed, trying to rest enough to make it to the actual game.
You thought for some time about what could have gotten you sick. You hadn’t gone anywhere out of the usual recently, you and Joe had been home as he prepared for the season. You decide to stand up and try to walk around for a bit, feeling the nausea where off a little. As you step down the stairs, a notification goes off on your phone. Looking at the screen, you see the message from your period app, but you don’t even have to read the notification to know what it says. Your phone hits the step below you.
Suddenly the symptoms you were feeling seem to evaporate, as your mind drifts somewhere else. You sprint down the stairs to find where you had stored the pregnancy tests. The cabinet that before held so much sadness, might possibly hold hope. You run back upstairs with the box in hand and fiddle with the box until you finally get it open.
Your hands shake as you wait, you had the test upside down on the bathroom counter and you just stared at yourself in the mirror. You heard your phone ding, but didn’t dare break eye contact with the mirror. After about 20 minutes you finally talked yourself into turning over the stick. As you do so, your heart drops.
Two lines.
You immediately felt tears roll down your cheeks as you knelt to the floor. You examined every inch of the test, making sure you were seeing right. You went ahead and took two more after that, which both revealed the same result. You were having a baby.
It was now about an hour till kick off, and you had yourself composed as much as possible. Getting ready to leave, your mind raced with ways to tell Joe. A Burrow onesie? A poster? A cake? You couldn’t decide on what to do, but you knew you wanted to tell Joe ASAP.
Arriving to the suite, you catch up with everyone and assure that you were just fine. You sit through the game with a huge smile on your face, one that only grows as you watch Joe run off the field after beating the Browns.
You find him immediately after and he pulls you in for a tight hug. “Hey you! I heard you weren’t feeling good what happened?” he asks sounding concerned. “I think I just had a little stomach bug or something, but i’m good now!” You assure kissing him. After he says goodbye to his family and you hug everyone, the two of you depart to your separate cars. Driving home your mind is racing, you had to tell him now. You didn’t have any cute surprise or anything but you just couldn’t wait. This was the one thing the two of you had been aching to get for months, and you wanted him to savor every moment right along with you.
You get home before him and grab the test from upstairs and slide it into your back pocket. You hear the front door open and head back downstairs. “Jesus, didn’t realize you were an F1 driver?!” Joe laughs walking in the door. “Yeah…I just…had to pee really bad.” You lie as you both walk into the kitchen. He puts his stuff down and leans against the counter taking you in with his eyes. “You good?” he curiously questions. “Never better. You just got the first win of the season my love.” You smile and peck him on the lips. “Wanna order food? I’m starving.” He says picking up his phone, but your eyes stay glued to him. “Yeah, just, here come sit down i want to show you something.” You say leading him to the kitchen table. He sits and eyes you curiously. “Okay so…I might have lied about the whole stomach bug thing.” You say slowly reaching into your back pocket as Joe eyes you. You pull out the stick and hand it to him, watching every detail of his reaction. You watch as he accepts the test, than scans it, then finally takes in what he’s seeing in-front of him. You watch him look up to you with glossy eyes. “y/n…this is…you’re…we’re having a baby?” his voices goes higher as he stands up in question. You smile and nod with tears streaming down your face.
You immediately wrap your legs around his waist as he picks you up in a spin. You both giggle in a stream of tears and he places you back down. “Oh my god, we’re gonna be parents!” he exclaims excitedly. You had never seen him so overjoyed about something, he looked more elated than the day he won a national championship. “Joey…” You cup his cheeks and pull him close to you. “I love you so much.”
“I love you y/n”
The next couple of weeks felt like you had stepped into a whole new life. You were now managing doctor’s appointments and morning sickness continued to hit you like a brick. Joe went to as many appointments as he could, but for the most part you were on your own. Which was fine because all that mattered to you was the fact that you were carrying a healthy 7 week old baby.
The last couple of weeks have been filled with football and family, which is always the case especially in the beginning of the season. That being said, keeping the secret from both of your parents would have been impossible. You guys took them out to dinner last night and surprised them with “Baby Burrow” onesies and a picture of your first ultrasound on top. Of course there were a lot of happy tears and a lot of hugging. It made the moment feel so much more real to you. You also insisted that they keep quiet, given your plan to keep the baby a secret until later in the pregnancy.
Sitting through games through the middle of the season with family and friends always made you feel so warm for your little one. You were so excited for him or her to come into this world because you know they’d have a village of people for support. The hardest part of keeping the secret was avoiding alcohol. Your “headache” excuse had only worked for about two games, before you had to start pretend drinking. Although it was hard, it was also fun for you cause you knew once all your friends knew they would be over the moon.
At the beginning of December, Joe insisted on you being forbidden to enter the extra guest room near you’re guys shared master. “It’s a surprise!” he would insist, but it nagged at you everyday.
“Merry Christmas!” You hear Joe yell before you feel him pounce on you, careful to avoid your little bump. “Merry Christmas!” You say bringing him up to your arms. You were very thankful that once the morning sickness subsided, your symptoms were very mild. “I made us pancakes.” Joe says smiling, knowing that was your number one craving. You slid your elf slippers on and headed downstairs following Joe. One thing you two had set in stone was no matter how hectic football season got, you would always put up a tree together. It sparkled above the wrapped gifts, highlighting every ornament on the tree.
You both sat down for breakfast, but Joe was anxious to get to gifts. He wanted you to open his gift for you first of course. “Here. Open” he insists as he hands you the gift from the tree after you sit on the couch. You carefully open the wrapping and the box that sits inside it to reveal a Van Cleef Alhambra bracelet. You’re eyes light up and you smile at Joe. “Joe this is gorgeous! Thank you baby.” You stand up and hug him and he lies his head on yours. “Okay now open yours” you insist but he shakes his head. “wait! I have one more thing for you, cmon.” he leads you upstairs past your shared room and right to the closed door of the room you have been banned from for the last month.
“So i thought this was perfect timing since we decided to announce the baby soon…” He turns the handle and you step into the room, almost tripping as you do. Your mouth hangs open at the sight in front of you. It was the most beautiful nursery you had ever seen. The gender of the baby was still unknown, so the base was mostly neutral for now. There was a backsplash of vines and flowers that resembled a garden. The furniture was all set up and arranged beautifully. The floor had been redone, and the walls were painted a light forest green. “Its kinda boring now, but once we know the gender we can bring in the fun colors and stuff.” Joe says wrapping his arms around you from the back. Your eyes start to tear up, “Joe..this is so perfect…thank you.” You turn to hug him and you both remain there holding each other in awe of the room that would soon house your little one. The thought of Joe putting so much effort into this room, and your child being able to come home to it warmed you in every way possible.
It was now January, meaning you were about four months pregnant, luckily this cold weather meant big-baggy clothes could hide your growing bump. January also meant playoff season. The Bengals were making there way through, looking forward to the divisional round next weekend. You were so excited both for the game, and to finally announce your pregnancy, which you both decided to do after the game.
Today was Monday, meaning Joe was at practice, and you were doing some errands. Walking through downtown was like therapy for you. Joe was worried about you going out by yourself, but he also knew you needed it for your sanity. Walking into a local boutique, you’re greeted at the door and your immediately hit with all the bengals merchandise. This was one of your favorite things about the city, how supportive they were of the team through thick and thin. After the game, you both wanted to have your closest people come back to the house for dinner so you could make the announcement. Joe promised, win or lose, he still wanted to have the dinner; so you were shopping for some decor for the house.
Bringing your bags inside, you smile, thinking of how excited you were to finally let the cat out of the bag. You decide to lay down and rest for a while before Joe comes home. Even doing the smallest thing made you exhausted at this point in pregnancy. You are almost asleep when all of a sudden you feel a sharp pain, almost like a cramp. You sit up and wince at the feeling, confused as to what’s happening. The pain only grows worse, and as you remove the sheet from across you to stand up, you realize what is happening.
Time felt like it stopped, like you kept moving, but everything around you had froze. You weren’t sure when you picked up the phone to call Joe, or when he had ran into the room to find you hunched over in tears, or when you ended up in a hospital bed with a doctor by your side.
Once your mind finally felt like it stopped spinning, it all hit you, the look on Joe’s face, the sympathy from the doctor, the feeling of Joes hand on yours. It all crashed down on you as you let out a sob. You cried in Joes arms, no words were shared, just cried between the two of you. “Joe what happened?” you sniffle, pulling away, and wiping tears from your eyes. “He said they can’t tell exactly…” Joe veers off, “they said maybe a womb structure issue, or an infection, either could be a reason for all the bleeding. They’re running some tests now.” he finishes, wiping his own eyes. “No…I cant, how is this happening? I mean I was so far along, what did i do wrong Joe?” you whimper and his eyes meet yours. “Don’t say that y/n, you know this was not your fault baby, this was not something you could control. Okay? I need you to understand that.” you nod and he leans in to hold you again while you cry. Your mind was a mess. You had it, you had what you wanted, you were so close to being a mom, but it left far too soon.
Soon after, the doctor comes back to explain that there was some kind of infection within the placenta that rarely develops, but when it does, it inhabits wombs that are carrying children for the first time. You couldn’t really focus on what he was saying, but he informed you that your health was in the clear now, and you could go home, but had to get a lot of rest.
Both sets of parents had been in and out of the hospital, supporting you and Joe but also wanting to get everything ready at home.
You were in the hospital for less than 24 hours, but stepping inside your house felt different. Walking up those stairs, with Joe helping you along, the guilt only continues to pile up. As you make the turn to your bedroom, you stop and look at the closed door of the room next door. The room that was supposed to be your baby’s home, would never get to meet him. Him, your baby boy, your baby boy who you never actually got to meet. Your baby boy whose gender was only discovered after you had lost him. Joe kisses your head and urges you to lie down in bed.
Downstairs, you hear a few voices quietly talking. You get yourself out of bed, sick of being in the same spot for so long. Entering the kitchen you see both moms and your sister gathered around the island, with Joe sitting on the couch. All heads turn to you and you offer a small smile. Your sister pulls you into a hug, not saying anything. “We brought some flowers over and cooked some food for you guys. We’ll get going, but we’ll come check up on you guys soon okay?” Your mom says as everyone says their goodbyes. You join Joe on the couch, he opens his arms for you, but you only stay seated near him. He frowns a bit but understands. “How are you feeling?” he asks, “I’m okay, how are you?” you ask. He shrugs and you nod. The T.V plays silently as you both blankly stare at it. “I talked to Zac today, told him i’d be out of practice this week.” you turn to him with curiosity. “Okay…you’re doing that for yourself though right? You’re not doing that because of me Joe…” he shakes his head. “y/n…i need to be here for you. I don’t care if we aren’t even sleeping in the same bed, i’m not leaving this house until i’m sure you’re okay.” You wanted to argue, but didn’t have the energy. Instead you just go back upstairs and run a bath.
The sheets were changed, Robin immediately doing so once she heard the story. The bed was made brand new like nothing had ever happened. The moment you hit the pillows your eyes fall into a deep sleep.
Waking up, you hear voices downstairs and decide to stand up. walking into the kitchen, you notice both you and Joe’s mom and your sister gathered around chatting. Your sister wordlessly hugs you and you offer a smile. “Honey we brought over some food, we’ll get going now, but i’ll call to check on you later okay?” Your mother says. You say your goodbyes and notice Joe on the couch. You sit by him as you both stare at the silent television. “How are you feeling?” he asks. “I’m okay, How are you?” he just shrugs. “I talked to Zac, told him i’m taking the rest of practice this week off. I just don’t think I can handle it and i want to be here with you-” “Joe, i’ll be okay, you don’t need to do this for me.” You cut him off but he shakes his head. “I’m doing it for us baby, I can’t be out there knowing your here alone.” You nod your head and lie back against the couch.
Zac came over to the house later that night and sat down with Joe. He brought flowers and some cookies his wife baked. You thanked him and engaged in some small talk before heading to bed.
Joe and Zac sat at the kitchen table talking. “Listen, this is what is important right now Joe, I know you are capable of greatness, but you have to take care of her first.” Zac says. “I know, that’s why I can’t come to practice this week, but as for the game, i mean i’m not sure…” Joe trails off. “Listen, don’t think about that right now, when the time comes you can make a decision. We have time, it’s only Tuesday. I’ll let the guys know what happened, and as for media. I’ll keep it quiet, I promise,” Zac says. Joe thanks him and walks him out to his car once they finish talking.
The next morning Joe turns over, surprised not to see you there. Downstairs, he notices you curled up on the couch. Making some coffee, his mind runs with what could have brought you down here. “Hi lovie,” you say stretching and standing from the couch. “Hey…you okay?” Joe says hugging you. “Yeah…I just…I couldn’t sleep, I needed a little change.” Joe nods. “What do you want for breakfast?” You shrug and respond that you’re not hungry. “y/n…you have to eat.” Joe insists . He ends up making you avocado toast anyway and watching you as you eat it.
The next few days, Joe saw small improvements in your demeanor, but was still a little worried. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been pushing down his own grief to focus on you. Which, you insisted you didn’t need taking care of. Saturday rolls around and Joe finally had his decision made. You decided you wanted to get out of the house, so Joe drove you to a friends to spend the day with. “Have you decided yet?” You ask Joe in the car. “Yeah…I’m gonna do it.” Joe replied looking over at you. You squeeze his hand, “good.”
Later that night you and Joe lied in bed together holding each other. “I’m glad you’re playing tomorrow Joe. Even if you’re not completely focused, it’s better than you not being there at all.” you say looking up to him. “I know. Are you going to go to the stadium or stay here?” he asks. “I’m going to stay here I think. I don’t think I can handle all the commotion, plus by now everyone probably already knows the news and I don’t really feel like taking about it with everyone.” You say shutting your eyes. “Good, I wanted you to be here anyway, I love you.” he whispers. “I love you too.”
The next morning you shot everyone a text letting them know that you would be home today and you’ll miss them. Joe left a couple of hours ago and you were settling into the couch to focus on the game. Last night was the first night you and Joe had slept in the same bed and it was the best night you’ve had all week. You’re glad you both had this distraction for the time being, and you didn’t want to think about anything but the game. Zac did a really great job at keeping the press mild and many of Joes teammates had reached out to you. You had seen one post from some tabloid about your pregnancy which you were originally pissed about, but decided to let it go.
You watch as the game begins and they take on the Bills at home. Joe was playing good throughout the first quarter, the second one a little rocky and you could tell his mind was somewhere else. At halftime, you made yourself something to eat and stopped when you noticed the ultrasound picture on the fridge. Your heart dropped for a moment and you weren’t sure what to do. You took the picture off the fridge and headed upstairs.
Finally getting yourself to open the door that you have had mentally locked. You gaze over the room as you take in every aspect of it again. It doesn’t bring you the same joy it did before, instead it’s just a reminder of what could have been. You pick up the empty picture frame that Joe had put out on the changing table. He wanted to put the baby’s first bubble bath picture in their. Instead you open the frame, carefully placing the ultrasound picture inside and closing it again. You place it back on the changing table as a tear rolls down your cheek. You only let yourself linger for a moment before leaving the room, and shutting the door behind you.
The second half begins and you watch as the bengals take the first few snaps, making there way down the field. All of a sudden you watch as Joe quickly decides to keep the ball and takes off running. You stand up as you watch him sprint down the field, outrunning every other defender. He quickly makes his way into the end zone and you here the announcer over the television. Touchdown
You clap your hands over your mouth and smile to yourself as they show the whole stadium in cheers. They pan to the sideline where every Bengals player and coach was jumping for joy.
Then they pan to Joe in the end zone and you watch as his knees hit the ground below him and he holds the ball in his hands, staring at it with emotion filled eyes. In an instant his team is surrounding him hugging him and in cheer as they all recognize how big this moment actually is for him. The weight of the world was resting on Joes shoulders all week, this felt like a shift in reality for him and for you. You find yourself in tears once again seeing your husband in such a vulnerable state. You watch as he composes himself on the sideline and even finishes the rest of the game with a win. This was no doubt the hardest thing you and Joe had been through, but you were getting through it together.
This little blurb of a fic can be considered a part 2 to California Love. You can probably guess what song this is based on 🩷
Your eye lids shut as you take a quiet breath in and out. You hear the clicking of shoes from the bridesmaids lined up infront of you. You hear last minute chatter and stressed out wedding planners rip at each other. It feels like just yesterday Joe was on one knee asking for your hand.
In reality it’s been 9 months of grueling wedding planning that deep down you loved every second of. Cake testing, color matching, dress tailoring, all of it intertwined to make the day that finally is at your fingertips. You smile to yourself as you tune out the commotion around you, in just a few moments those daunting wooden doors would creak open to reveal the long walkway 6 year old you had always dreamed of strutting.
The noise quiets down and you watch as the doors open, allowing for the bridal party to begin their walk. You watch as each one departs, you being able to see everyone, but no one able to see you yet.
The chords of the piano play a quiet, slow chorus that brings a smile to everyone’s face as they watch each bridesmaid make their way to the end of the isle, arms linked with the groomsmen.
You take one last breath as you and your father finally approach the beginning of the isle. You feel the weight of your veil trailing behind you as you lift your head immediately met with those icy blue eyes. Your breath hitches as you watch him mirror your actions.
First a slight jaw drop, and then you both smile.
You listen as the piano chords change, prompting the small crowd to rise as you watch every head swivel to you in awe. You watch as your mother brings her hand to her mouth, she had already cried twice seeing you in the dress, but it still took her breath away like it was the first time.
The cue of the song prompts you to begin your walk. Though it lacks any words, the simple sound of each piano key is recognized by every soul in the venue.
You can hear the lyrics in your head.
Can I go where you go?
Can we always be this close?
You lock your view on Joe and feel as if your heart stops as you recognize a sight you had only seen a few times.
A tearful Joe.
Forever and ever.
His smile remains, but the tiny droplets stream down his face as he quietly laughs to himself in awe of the sight in-front of him. You notice his groomsmen chuckle to themselves, noticing the usually stoic man, all mush. You scan down to your bridesmaids, your sisters and your three best friends. Each one holds a warm smile that washed that last little bit of wedding nerve away.
The sounds echoing through the garden bring you to some sort of high. A euphoric feeling where all of your nerves and worries dissipate, and your only focus is meeting the man across the room.
You always knew it would be Joe, but at this exact moment, you were still in shock that this was happening. You notice the grip you have on your bouquet of flowers and the small taps of your heels, bringing you more into the moment. This was really happening.
Take me out, and take me home.
Forever and ever.
You smile to yourself thinking back to when you finally decided on a song for this exact moment. You had multiple options, but nothing sounded quiet right instrumental. That was until you heard this exact piano version of your most favorite song, you couldn’t resist.
You’re just feet away from Joe now, feet away from the rest of your life intertwined with the only man whose ever been able to make you feel like you were flying.
You turn to your father to hug him as he wipes a tear, you then turn back to Joe, both of you shooting a smile.
