stress reliever (blurb smau)
background: a draft night from hell continues on night 2 but y/n alleviates some of the worries of carson's future.
(all pics from pinterest, all rights reserved)
word count: 3.0k
notes: whewww im back!!
warning: this is a alternative universe, pure smut with fluff.
The Beck family home in Jacksonville looked nothing like it usually did.
Normally, it was calm with polished hardwood floors, soft lighting, framed football jerseys hanging in the downstairs hallway beside family beach pictures and old vacation photos.
But tonight every room buzzed with nervous energy. Phones were charging everywhere. The television volume stayed loud enough for everyone to hear the analysts while still allowing dozens of conversations to overlap at once.
Round 3 of the NFL Draft.
Day two.
And somehow, unbelievably, Carson Beck was still sitting in that living room.
The same quarterback who had spent months projected as a first-round pick.
The same quarterback who had once been mocked top fifteen.
Now every ESPN analyst suddenly had opinions about “inconsistency,” “decision making under pressure,” and “that Miami game.”
That damn Miami game.
Plural, honestly.
Every missed read. Every bad interception. Every stalled drive had been replayed online for months like people forgot quarterbacks were human beings.
And Carson looked like he felt every single word.
The living room was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with family and friends. His dad, Chris, stood near the fireplace, trying to act relaxed while checking his phone every thirty seconds. Tracy kept smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her pants and offering people drinks they didn’t need just to stay busy.
Aunts sat on couches whispering predictions.
Uncles loudly debated which franchises were “dumb enough to pass on him.”
Kyle, Carson’s younger sister, sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through Twitter with a permanent grimace on her face.
Every few seconds, someone would say, “They gotta take him here.”
“This is the spot.”
“No way he falls again.”
And then another name would get announced.
Another defensive lineman.
Another receiver.
Another quarterback.
Another commercial break.
The tension kept thickening.
Meanwhile, Y/N sat beside Carson on the large cream colored sectional, her legs crossed elegantly beneath her dress. Her hair fell in tight curls over one shoulder, makeup flawless but soft enough that Carson kept staring at her like she was the only thing grounding him.
And honestly?
She was.
Because Carson looked miserable.
Not outwardly. Not enough for everyone else to fully notice.
But Y/N noticed everything.
The bouncing knee.
The way he kept rubbing his palms together.
The way his jaw flexed every time another pick came in.
The fake smiles.
The quietness.
His phone sat face-down on his thigh because he’d stopped checking social media an hour ago after seeing people posting things like:
“Maybe Miami exposed him.”
“Told y’all he wasn’t a first-round talent.”
“He’s mentally cooked.”
It was killing him.
Y/N gently touched his wrist.
“You okay?”
Carson nodded too quickly.
“Yeah.”
Lie.
She watched him stare blankly at the TV while analysts discussed another quarterback.
“Teams are concerned about how he handled pressure late in the season…”
Carson exhaled through his nose hard enough for only her to hear.
Across the room Chris noticed immediately.
A father always knew.
He exchanged a glance with Tracy.
Kyle looked up from her phone too, watching her brother carefully.
Another pick got announced.
Not Carson.
One of the uncles muttered under his breath.
“Jesus Christ.”
Silence swallowed the room for a moment.
Carson suddenly stood up.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom.”
Nobody stopped him.
Nobody wanted to make it worse.
But Y/N watched the way his shoulders slumped as he disappeared down the hallway, and her chest tightened instantly.
Because this wasn’t just disappointment anymore.
This was humiliation settling in.
Public humiliation.
Millions of people are watching your dream shift in real time.
She waited maybe ten seconds before standing.
“I’ll be right back,” she told Tracy softly.
Tracy gave her the saddest little understanding smile.
“Okay, sweetheart.”
The hallway felt quieter than the living room but somehow heavier. The draft broadcast still echoed faintly through the walls as Y/N walked toward the downstairs bathroom.
The door was shut.
She knocked gently.
“Carson?”
Nothing.
Then finally:
“Yeah.”
“You gonna let me in?”
A pause.
Then the lock clicked.
Y/N stepped inside and immediately shut the door behind her before locking it again.
Carson stood leaning over the sink, both hands gripping the marble counter while he stared down at it. His dress shirt sleeves were rolled halfway up now, tie loosened, hair slightly messy from running his hands through it a hundred times tonight.
He looked exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The second she saw his face fully, her heart cracked.
Because his eyes were red.
Not crying.
But close.
“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered quietly.
Y/N moved toward him slowly.
“It’s not embarrassing.”
He laughed bitterly.
“I was supposed to go yesterday.”
She didn’t answer because he wasn’t wrong.
“I keep thinking about Miami,” he continued, voice tight. “Like maybe everybody was right. Maybe I ruined everything there.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
“They’re all talking about me like I’m damaged goods now.”
Y/N reached for his face immediately.
“Hey.”
Carson finally looked at her.
And the second he did, his composure started cracking for real.
“I worked my ass off,” he said quietly. “I did everything right. And now every pick feels like everybody saying I’m not good enough.”
Her thumbs brushed against his jaw gently.
“You are good enough.”
He looked away again instantly.
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“No,” she said softly. “It’s easy for me to see.”
That got his attention.
Y/N stepped closer until barely any space existed between them.
“You know what I see?” she whispered. “I see somebody every team in this league would be lucky to have. I see somebody who’s spent years getting judged by people who couldn’t survive one practice you’ve gone through.”
Carson swallowed hard.
“You think one bad stretch defines you?”
“No.”
“You think every great quarterback never struggled?”
“No.”
“Then stop acting like your story ends tonight.”
His eyes stayed locked on hers now.
The tension in his shoulders loosened just barely.
Y/N smoothed her hand down his chest slowly.
“You are not less talented because people got impatient.”
Carson let out a shaky breath.
“You always know what to say.”
“Because I know you.”
Silence settled between them.
Not awkward.
Heavy.
Close.
The draft broadcast faintly echoed from the living room down the hallway again.
“Teams are still evaluating-”
Carson groaned softly and dropped his forehead onto her shoulder.
“I can’t breathe out there.”
Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck immediately.
“Yes you can.”
“This sucks.”
“I know.”
He held her waist tighter.
“I hate everybody seeing this.”
“They’re not seeing failure,” she whispered. “They’re waiting.”
Carson pulled back enough to look at her again.
God, she looked beautiful.
The cream dress.
The glossy lips.
The way she looked at him like none of this changed who he was.
It made his chest ache.
“You flew out here for this,” he muttered.
“I flew out here for you.”
That almost broke him completely.
His hands slid around her waist fully now, pulling her flush against him.
“You know I love you, right?”
Y/N smiled softly.
“I better.”
He finally laughed a little.
Tiny.
But real.
“There he is,” she teased quietly.
Carson shook his head.
“You make me feel sane.”
“That’s because you are sane.”
“Mmm.”
“You’re just stressed.”
He stared at her lips for a second too long.
Y/N noticed instantly.
And judging by the way his grip tightened slightly, he noticed that she noticed.
The air shifted.
Completely.
Her fingers slowly played with the chain around his neck.
“You know…” she said softly.
Carson raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
Y/N tilted her head innocently.
“I could help your stress though…”
That got his full attention immediately.
“All ears.”
The grin she gave him after that nearly destroyed whatever self-control he had left.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
His hands slid lower on her waist.
“You’re dangerous.”
“And you like dangerous.”
Carson’s eyes darkened instantly.
“Come here.”
She barely had time to smile before he kissed her.
Hard.
Like he’d been holding it in all night.
Everything poured into it.
Y/N grabbed the front of his shirt immediately, kissing him back just as deeply while his hands tightened around her waist. He backed her gently against the bathroom counter, one hand moving up to cradle her jaw while he kissed her again and again until both of them were breathless.
When they finally broke apart, gasping, his forehead rested against hers.
“Fuck,” he breathed, the word a ragged exhale against her lips. “Just… fuck.”
He didn’t need to elaborate. She understood his stress. Her hands slid from his chest down to the buckle of his belt, her eyes locked on his.
A sharp, guttural sound escaped him, part groan, part relief. He nodded, once, a quick jerk of his chin.
His hands came up to cradle her face again, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones as she sank smoothly to her knees on the rug.
She worked his belt then his zipper. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers and drew everything down in one deliberate motion.
He sprang free, already fully hard, the flushed, heavy weight of him a familiar and potent reality in her hand.
“Look at you,” he growled, his voice dropping to a rough, gravelly register she seldom heard outside of these moments. “On your fuckin’ knees. Just for me.”
He wasn’t wrong. This was hers, she leaned forward, letting her breath mist the mushroom head before she closed her lips around him, taking him slowly into the wet, welcoming heat of her mouth. A violent shudder ripped through him. One of his hands fisted in her hair, not yanking, but claiming, anchoring.
“Yeah,” he hissed. “Just like that. Take it. Take all of it.”
She began to move, a slow, deep rhythm that had his hips giving an involuntary jerk. She hollowed her cheeks tracing the huge vein with her tongue.
“Mamas, your mouth feels like heaven, baby. So fuckin’ good. You suckin’ all my problems right out.”
His grip in her hair tightened incrementally. He began to set the pace, a gentle rocking of his hips that pushed him deeper into her throat. She relaxed, letting him guide her, taking him as far as she could, her nose pressing against his skin. The sounds were obscenely wet, slick, punctuated by his ragged breaths and low moans.
“That’s it,” he urged, his voice strained. “Take it deeper. C’mon, I know you can. Let me feel that throat.”
She let him, forcing her gag reflex to stop, a strangled moan from him as his thrusts became more urgent, less controlled. He was face fucking her, and she loved every second of it.
“Gonna use that pretty face baby girl,” he grunted, each word punctuated by a drive of his hips. “Gonna fuck this sweet mouth until I forget my own name.”
His free hand came down to cup her jaw, his thumb pressing into her cheek, making her feel the bulge of him inside her mouth. “Look at me.” She forced her eyes up to meet his.
His face was full of tortured pleasure, jaw clenched, lips parted. “See what you do to me? You see? You’re ruinin’ me. I’m not gonna last. Not with you lookin’ up at me like that, with my dick in your throat.”
His pace became frantic, a brutal, stuttering rhythm. The pretense of gentle stress relief was gone, burned away by a raw, accelerating need for culmination.
“I’m gonna come,” he warned, his voice cracking. “Gonna fill that dirty mouth. You want it?”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t nod, but she hummed around him, a vibration that made his legs buckle. It was all the answer he needed.
“Oh, fuck! Here it comes. Take it! Swallow it all! Every drop!”
With a final, deep thrust that held him impossibly deep, he stilled. A ragged, broken shout echoed off the marble walls as he came, his grip in her hair was almost painful now, holding her firmly in place as he emptied himself down her throat with him moaning.
Y/N finally stood back to her full height, smoothing her hands down the fabric of her dress before looking at herself in the mirror.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
Carson looked up immediately.
“What?”
“My lip gloss is literally gone.”
That made him laugh for real this time.
Not a forced draft-night laugh.
A real one.
Low and warm.
“Well,” he said, trying not to grin too hard, “whose fault is that?”
Y/N turned and pointed at him dramatically.
“Yours.”
“Mm. Worth it.”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away instantly.
Carson moved behind her while she leaned closer to the mirror, checking her mascara carefully. He reached for the little white makeup bag she’d brought earlier and unzipped it for her on the bathroom counter.
“You’re spoiled,” he muttered.
“And pretty.”
“You are pretty.”
“No,” she corrected while pulling out a lip liner, “I’m saying I need to stay pretty.”
Carson laughed softly again, watching her through the mirror while she reapplied her gloss with expert precision. It amazed him how quickly women could fix things. Two minutes ago she’d been wrapped around him in a locked bathroom while he tried not to completely lose his mind.
Now she looked red-carpet ready again.
Meanwhile his tie was crooked.
Y/N glanced at him in the mirror.
“Fix your tie.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He stepped closer behind her while she sprayed perfume lightly onto her wrists and neck. The scent immediately filled the small bathroom, warm vanilla and something floral underneath.
Carson shut his eyes dramatically.
“Jesus.”
“What?”
“You smell good.”
Y/N smirked.
“Again. Your fault.”
His hands instinctively slid onto her hips from behind.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
She laughed quietly and turned around in his arms.
For a second they just looked at each other.
And somehow the energy had shifted completely from twenty minutes ago.
The panic in Carson’s eyes had eased. He still looked nervous, obviously, but now there was warmth back in him again. Life. Confidence.
Y/N reached up and fixed one strand of hair that had fallen onto his forehead.
“There he is.”
Carson looked at her softly.
“You really do calm me down.”
“I know.”
Cocky.
He smiled.
Then they heard shouting from downstairs.
“Arizona’s on the clock!”
Every nerve in Carson’s body instantly reignited.
His eyes snapped toward the door.
Y/N grabbed his hand immediately before he could spiral again.
“Breathe.”
He nodded once.
Then together they walked downstairs.
The second they entered the living room everybody looked over.
Kyle noticed first.
And immediately narrowed her eyes.
Then her gaze slowly dropped to Y/N’s freshly reapplied lip gloss.
Then to Carson suddenly looking much less miserable.
Then back to Y/N.
“Oh my God,” Kyle mouthed silently.
Y/N nearly choked.
Carson acted oblivious and walked back toward the couch.
Kyle burst out laughing under her breath.
“You are disgusting,” she whispered toward her brother as Y/N sat back down beside him.
Carson blinked innocently.
“What?”
Kyle just shook her head while trying not to laugh harder.
Chris looked between all three of them suspiciously.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing,” Kyle answered way too fast.
Tracy squinted.
“Why do y’all look guilty?”
“Mom,” Carson groaned.
But before anyone could keep interrogating them, the television volume rose.
The analysts were talking quickly now.
“Arizona could absolutely look quarterback here…”
“Developmental upside…”
“They’ve done extensive homework…”
The entire room went dead silent.
Round 3.
Pick 65.
The Arizona Cardinals were officially on the clock.
Carson’s knee started bouncing again instantly.
Y/N slid her hand into his under the cushion where nobody could see.
Squeezed once.
He squeezed back.
The camera on ESPN showed the Cardinals draft room.
Everyone in the living room stared at the television like their lives depended on it.
Ten seconds.
Nine.
Eight.
Then Carson’s phone rang.
Every single head in the room whipped toward him.
Silence.
Pure silence.
Carson stared at the screen for half a second before standing up so fast he nearly dropped the phone.
Arizona area code.
His face completely changed.
“Answer it!” Kyle practically yelled.
Carson hit accept immediately.
“Hello?”
The whole room froze.
Y/N could hear her own heartbeat.
Carson listened quietly, pacing once beside the couch while everybody watched him like statues.
Then slowly..
His face broke into disbelief.
“Yes sir.”
Another pause.
“Yes sir, absolutely.”
His hand covered his mouth for a second.
“Thank you. Seriously. Thank you.”
Y/N felt tears instantly sting her eyes.
Carson turned away briefly, emotional already.
Then finally:
“Yes sir. Let’s do it.”
He hung up.
The room exploded immediately.
“OH MY GOD!”
“NO WAY!”
“LET’S GOOOO!”
Tracy burst into tears instantly.
Chris grabbed Carson’s shoulders.
Kyle screamed loud enough to probably wake neighbors.
And before anyone could even fully process it, the commissioner walked to the podium on television.
“With the 65th pick in the 2026 NFL Draft, the Arizona Cardinals select.. Carson Beck, quarterback, Miami.”
The living room erupted.
People screaming as phones coming out instantly.
Carson looked completely stunned for half a second before Chris pulled him into a massive hug.
“That’s my boy,” Chris kept repeating emotionally.
Tracy wrapped both arms around him next, crying into his shoulder while Carson laughed shakily and hugged her tight.
Kyle launched herself at him after that.
“You got drafted!” she screamed.
“You’re annoying,” Carson laughed.
“You got drafted!”
Then his eyes found Y/N.
And everything else disappeared for a second.
She was already crying softly, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt while holding the Cardinals hat someone had slid across the coffee table.
Carson walked toward her immediately.
Fast.
Like he couldn’t get there quick enough.
The second he reached her, Y/N held up the hat with watery eyes.
“You’re an NFL quarterback.”
Carson looked at her like he might cry too.
Then he wrapped both arms around her so hard she squealed softly as he nearly lifted her clean off the floor. His hands slid underneath the back of her thighs and lower butt to hold her up against him while she laughed breathlessly into his shoulder.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“I got drafted,” he said against her neck like he still couldn’t believe it.
“You got drafted.”
He pulled back just enough to kiss her quickly while everyone around them hollered and laughed.
Kyle immediately yelled, “KEEP IT PG!”
Y/N burst out laughing against Carson’s shoulder while his face turned red instantly.
Meanwhile she fixed the Cardinals hat carefully on Carson’s head while tears still clung to her lashes.
And Carson?
Carson looked at her like she’d just helped hold him together long enough to survive the worst night of his life until it became the best one instead.
carsonbeck 📍phoenix, az
❤️ 215,601 💬 4,387
Liked by: yn.yln camward miamifb maliknabers garrettnussmeier and others
carsonbeck: crazy week
@/tyreekhill: my boyyyy 🔥
@/yn.yln: my favorite person forever, so proud of you bubba 🖤
@/carsonbeck: @/yn.yln come home i miss you
@/miamimike56: he got drafted AND got a fine girl driving the benz life good
@/kylebeck: slide 3 is disgusting btw, thats your girl...im kidding.
@/madiraewhitmore: happy for you cars!! 💕
@/sectea: this lore is INSANEEEE
@/sportndadaily: THE SNAPCHAT EX?????
@/wagscenter: sis saw that signing bonus and got active
@/blondesandbowswithhoes: i went to uga during this era and everybody knew she thought a baby would make him stay 😭
@/ugainsider: remember when she tried to convince everybody she was pregnant after he liked y/n’s instagram story
@/yn.yln: @/madiraewhitmore girl you ain’t spoken to that man in almost a year be serious 😭
@/kylebeck: not the ex appearing after the signing bonus hit 😭
@/madiraewhitmore: @/yn.yln no bad intentions here lol just being nice
@/yn.yln: @/madiraewhitmore: aw okay! timing just funny considering you used to leak relationship drama every other week ❤️
@/yn.yln: @/madiraewhitmore anywayyyy proud of my man and the life WE built over here 🫶🏾
@/nflmemes: Y/N JUST HIT THE GAME WINNER
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