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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 2 months ago

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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 17

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16

Eddie’s back to school on Tuesday, black eye turning a mottled sort of green, lip scabbed over. From where he’s hemmed in by Robin and Chrissy, Steve watches Eddie catch a glimpse of him and bolt the other way.

Jeff sighs, lets go of his hold on Chrissy’s arm, and says, “sorry, Steve. I’m just gonna—” and then he points toward Eddie and follows after him without another word.

Steve’s gut clenches with guilt. He’d put that look on Eddie’s face, had caused the rift in his and Jeff’s friendship, had split the forming group up with his ridiculous crush. But Chrissy and Robin are still here, standing by his side.

“Are he and Jeff okay?” Steve asks, biting his lip as he glances at Chrissy.

“I think so,” she says, looking after her boyfriend. “They talked on the phone, but Jeff didn’t tell me what about.”

“Forget about them,” Robin replies, reaching out to take his hand even as it makes everyone around them stare. “Come on, Stevie, or we’ll be late to Ms. Clickity Clack’s class.”

Steve passes the rest of the day in a daze, the spot at his side a revolving cast of Chrissy, Robin, and Jeff, like they’d all talked behind his back and decided he couldn’t be trusted with being alone right now. Steve can’t blame them because as soon as he’s left unattended in his big empty house, he gets out his notebook and pen, and begins to write.

Eddie —

I’m sorry I never got to read your last letter, but it wasn’t for me anyways. Maybe none of them were, not really. And I’m sorry about that, even sorrier about how your pretty face got caught in the ceasefire. I’m just full of sorries I’m to scared to tell to your face—from the way you ran when you saw me in the hallway this morning, maybe you wouldn’t want me to anyway.

You’ve always been the brave one, so you must really want to not see me, huh? I hope you and Jeff are friends again. I’m sorry about that too, I’m the one who asked him not to tell you. I was afraid, but that’s no excuse.

I don’t know how to stop wanting to right write to you. I can’t turn off the part of me that still wants to know everything about you. There’s a whole in my heart, and I keep trying to find people to fill it, but I can never be in love with someone who loves me back. You know?

I’m sorry, Eddie. Maybe someday, I’ll get to say it to your face.

Sorry,

Steve

He closes the notebook on the damning words and shoves it into his nightstand so he doesn’t have to look at it. Sleep doesn’t come—the house is too quiet. He grabs the phone off his dresser and calls the only other person he knows whose parents trust them enough to have a phone in their bedroom.

“H’lo?” Robin mutters sleepily after finally picking up the phone six rings later.

She sounds tired—Steve’s sorry he woke her. “I wrote another letter,” he says.

That seems to perk her up instantly, as she hisses down the line, “Steven James Harrington.”

“Not my name, Robin Steven Bobbington,” he replies, talking right over her shrieked “well, that’s not mine!” to continue, “I’m not going to send it.”

“You better not,” she replies, and Steve can hear some rustling on her end, like she’s settling back down into her bed. He wishes, suddenly, that he was in there with her, clutching her hand as they fall asleep side by side. Instead, he lays down on his own bed and concentrates on the noises coming down the line.

“Is it stupid that I miss him?” he asks.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Robin!”

She laughs, a quiet sleepy chuckle that warms him straight through. “I’m just saying! He’s been treating you like shit, Stevie.”

Steve sighs, burrowing down under his comforter and taking the phone with him. “He was different in the letters,” he whispers, like someone in his empty house might hear him otherwise. “Sweeter, you know?”

Robin sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s enough sorries to go around for all of them, apparently. They’re quiet for a while, Robin’s breathing keeping him company in his big, lonely bed with his big, lonely thoughts.

“I love you, Robbie,” he whispers. “You know that, right?”

He’s been saying it a lot lately, throwing the words around like they’ll connect this time and get him something real. And they had, with Chrissy, with Robin, hell, even with Jeff. Just, not with Eddie. Maybe someday, he’ll learn to be okay with that.

“Love you, too, Dingus,” Robin replies, like it’s easy.

He falls asleep that night to the sound of Robin’s quiet snoring.

***

Eddie thinks about it—obsessively, compulsively. He dreams about it, jerks off about it, fucking cries about it. He reads the letters, again, and again, and again, wishing desperately that he still had that first one. At school, he checks his locker obsessively, compulsively, hoping there’s another note in his locker—there never is.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Gareth asks, an elbow into Eddie’s side.

“Ow, ribs!” Eddie cries, curling away from him and into Doug at their usual lunch table.

“Sorry!” Gareth replies, leaning away from him and raising his hands up like that’ll somehow prove he’s harmless.

Jeff snorts around his sandwich, “gotta be careful, Gare-bear. He’s precious cargo now.”

“Oh fuck off,” Eddie replies, rolling his eyes as the rest of Hellfire laugh around him.

“No, but seriously, dude,” Gareth asks, this time without the thrown elbow. “What’s up with you?”

Eddie looks across the cafeteria at Steve and Chrissy’s usual spots, still empty the way they have been for weeks. He worries, sometimes, that they’re not eating, and it’s his fault.

Hopefully, they’re just packing lunches from home and eating somewhere else (he’s been too afraid to check).

“Can’t tell you buddy,” Eddie replies, still looking at the empty spot like that’ll somehow make the duo appear. “I promised.”

Gareth, clearly having followed his line of sight, leans closer and asks in an unsubtle whisper, “but it’s about you know what?”

Doug sits on, oblivious, but Jeff snorts again and asks, “okay, you didn’t tell me jack shit, but you told the freshman?”

“Sophomore, jackass!” Gareth cries, before seeming to realize the implications of Jeff’s sentence. “You told Jeff?”

“I knew before you did,” Jeff says smugly, and Eddie’s starting to get pissed off about that again.

“How!”

“Jeff, dearest?” Eddie grits out. “Do you want me to punch you in the face?”

That shuts the table up catastrophically. But in the end, Jeff sighs and says, “I’m coming over after school,” and the rest of lunch is spent fielding Gareth’s indignant questions.

True to his word, Jeff climbs into Eddie’s passenger seat at the end of the day. Eddie doesn’t take them to the trailer, he just drives around, taking back roads round and round, restlessness making his fingers twitch in the gear shift.

Jeff’s the one who breaks the silence, in the end. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, making Eddie flinch at the sudden noise. “Steve just seemed so scared, and Chrissy was crying so—”

“He was scared?” Eddie interrupts, stuck on the thought. He’d known that, before, but now that Eddie’s afraid, too, it hits like a punch to the chest.

“Of course he was,” Eddie replies to his own question. Suddenly unable to focus, Eddie pulls over to the side of the road. “I’m scared, too.”

Jeff sucks in a breath; Eddie doesn’t look away from his own knees.

“Yeah?”

Eddie bites his lip, knowing that Jeff will be able to read between the lines. “Yeah.” His eyes are watering, and Eddie swipes at them, embarrassed. “And I know we’re supposed to be talking about us, but I just—”

“No, hey,” Jeff replies. Eddie hears the sound of his seatbelt unbuckling, and the rustle of him shifting in his seat, and suddenly, Jeff’s hand is clasping Eddie’s shoulder, shaking him around just a little. “You’re my best friend—we’re fine, dude.”

Eddie swipes at his eyes again, “I think I want to ask him out, but what if I’m wrong?” Eddie asks, tracking Jeff’s expression out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t want to hurt him again.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, voice deadpan. “You find out he likes you and suddenly he’s not just a jock anymore?”

Eddie looks down at his own knees, bracing for a hit he knows will never come. But, Eddie’s always been good at hurting himself, so he thinks about that yellow nail polish again, the enraptured look in Steve’s eyes during every D&D session, the way he’d glued himself to Robin Buckley, band nerd supreme’s side in recent weeks. The way he’d look at Eddie like he wasn’t the king of the freaks, like he was worth something.

“He was never just a jock,” Eddie murmurs. “I just never let myself think about it.”

Jeff mmmhmms him and Eddie knows him well enough to hear the doubt beneath the agreement.

“I was afraid, okay?” Eddie laments, scrunching his eyes closed tight until that makes his bruised eye ache too much. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At that, Jeff scoffs, and before Eddie can start up another tirade, he replies, “right, the black guy dating a white girl in Po-dunk, Indiana has no idea how scary it can be to make a move on the person you like.”

Okay, fair.

“You know what could happen if the wrong person finds out?” Jeff continues. “I’ll be lucky if they let me get out of town alive.”

“Okay, okay! I get it, sorry!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up in defeat. And Jeff, being the asshole he is, just laughs at his discomfort. “How’s that going anyway?”

“With Chrissy?” Jeff asks, continuing when Eddie nods. “She’s great, man. I really, really like her.”

He’s smiling all goofy and in love. Eddie waits for the jealousy to hit; it never comes. Even as he’d flirted with her, there’d always been a disconnect for him between the letters and the girl. He knows why, now.

“I’m happy for you.”

Jeff aims that same goofy smile at him and punches his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Eddie wants to feel that way about someone. He wants to think of them and smile like he just can’t help himself. And with Steve Harrington of all people, maybe he can.

“If I ask Steve out, do you think he’ll still say yes?”

“Oh, for sure,” Jeff replies without hesitation before he turns to Eddie and eyes him up and down. “But are you sure you want to?”

Eddie bites back the defensive retort rising on his tongue, and grits out, “what do you mean?”

Jeff sighs and leans back in his chair. Eddie waits, three seconds from snapping as he stews in Jeff’s silence, hands clenched so hard against the steering wheel that it feels like one of his nails might pop clean off.

“Jeff–”

“No one’s ever liked you before!” Jeff cries, and it hits Eddie like a punch to the sternum. “And maybe it’s not fair of me to ask but, are you sure you even really like him?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his mind a record skipping against a bent needle. “What do you–”

“Eddie, man,” Jeff sighs, swiveling his head to finally look Eddie directly in the eyes. “Do you like Steve Harrington, or do you just like that he likes you?”

He drops the wheel, hands almost numb as he shakes them out, no longer able to meet Jeff’s eye.

How would anyone ever know that for sure? How can he know the origin of a feeling when it’s been there, simmering in the background of his brain, just waiting for him to wake up? How can he separate the feeling for a person and the person’s feeling for them?

That’s like asking him to unbraid his hair, let it fall back together, and still be able to tell which strands made up each component of the braid–it can’t be done.

But, “Gareth said I was obsessed with him,” Eddie replies, barely above a whisper. “Like, before I knew he wrote the letters?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, but it’s just like Steve said–it sounds different when he doesn’t think it’s funny. “And, he was right, you know? I was flirting with Chrissy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Eddie runs a shaking hand through his hair and buries his face into his hands with a shudder. “He’s just–he’s Steve Harrington, right? Everyone knows everything about him, but then he just changes the script!” Eddie’s smiling now, manic, animated. “And I wanted to know everything.”

Eddie drops his hands to look over at Jeff, meeting his eyes once more. Jeff looks patient, ready, hopeful in a way he hadn’t before, so Eddie keeps talking.

“Like, Chrissy was flirting with you and he didn’t even seem to care, and the yellow nail polish, and he came to Hellfire, Jeff. Steve Harrington came and watched us play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I know,” Jeff replies, grinning now, pearly whites all on full display.

“And when he came to band practice, he was just like, watching me, and I sort of wanted to die, but in a good way, you know?”

Jeff decidedly does not look like he knows, but he’s still grinning across at Eddie like he’s proud of him. Eddie’s kind of proud, too, that he’s managing to say all of this aloud. It feels somehow new and a long time coming at the same time.

“Okay, you can ask him out,” Jeff says, turning forward in his seat and buckling his seatbelt once more.

Eddie laughs. “Oh, because I needed your blessing?”

“Yeah,” Jeff replies, grinning as he turns back to Eddie, looking him up and down like he’s a slab of meat Jeff’s checking for its quality. “Maybe wait until you’re healed up, though. You look like one of those cardboard box kittens that I keep seeing on the news.”

“Shut up!” Eddie squawks, but he’s smiling, helplessly, hopefully.

Eddie Munson with a chance at love, who would’ve thought?

PART 18

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic #Jeff. the man that you are<3<3<3<3<3 #i am...SO excited for tomorrow's part. like. after struggling Hard with it. it might have been the most fun i had in writing for the fic

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herpsandbirds · 5 months ago

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I would love to see your favorite owl!

Well, my favorite owl is the burrowing owl, which i have often answered as a favorite bird on here. so here's a list of my 5 other favorite owls...

Eastern Screech Owl, Megascops asio, mother with chick in nest, family Strigidae, Eastern U.S.

photograph by MJSchocken

Crested Owl (Lophostrix cristata), family Strigidae, Ecuador

photograph by Jess Findlay Photography

Brown Wood-Owl (Strix leptogrammica), family Strigidae, India

photograph by Sreejith R.

Spectacled Owl (Pulsatrix perspicillata), family Strigidae, Costa Rica

photograph by Jeff Muñoz Rainforest Photo Tours

Blakiston’s Fish Owl (Ketupa blakistoni), family Strigidae, order Strigiformes, Hokkaido, Japan

ENDANGERED.

Photograph by Zoe Ashdown

#owl #bird #strigidae #strigiformes #animals #nature

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vanyatas · 5 months ago

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TICCI TOBY HCS

GENERAL HCS:

Midwest emo.

But in a more silly way if you feel me chat

6’0.

Very sweet, He’s still a bit younger than the rest of the creeps so i still feel like he has a bit of joy and whimsy

Gash on his cheek from chewing through it.

Cannibalistic tendencies.

Soft, brown, messy hair, goes down to his neck but keeps it medium length on the top.

Operator mark on his ribs.

Car seat headrest(LMFAOOO), Angels and Airwaves, Weezer, Ptv, Modern Baseball, American Football, Sorority Noise, Origami Angel, Title Fight, Mom Jeans, No Pressure enjoyer.

Chews on his hands and finger tips

Wears leather gloves to avoid this

Def has BPD

Even if he’s sweet, because he has this ^ his mood can be set off immediately.

Piercings. Double eyebrow and a septum, ears as well.

Gets them done to see if he likes them, Will probably take them out a second later if he thinks it doesn’t look right.

BROWN EYESSS PLSS DO YALL FEEL ME!! I see him having very dark brown ones.

Skinnier, But by god does he have muscles regardless!! nothing too toned, but he’s definitely built from well. being a killer and having to chase and do crazy shit.

Stutters yes.

Autistic, PTSD, Tourette’s, Tics, CIPA, and Schizophrenia!! Keeping it 90% og still.

Also attention starved, It gets to him severely that Masky is The Operators favorite.

They’re still friends. Along with Jeff, EJ, BEN and Hoodie.

Hoodie and him don’t talk a lot.

ROMANTIC HCS:

A little awkward.

After all Clockwork was his first girlfriend.

They ended on good terms but I digress.

Even if he’s anxious and awkward, He is trying his best to try to flirt and show he likes you.

It might fail 50% of the time and he just apologizes and fast walks away to scream at himself for fucking it up.

Mid-Dating he might be a little fucking scared to even kiss you.

Will look at u with his autistic eyes until he either just walk away with a hot face or if you take the initiative to kiss him first.

Probably feel melt and blow up if you kiss him without him asking or staring.

Any compliments will make him stim I’d like to think.

Get excited to tell you about anything.

If you reciprocate, a burst of ‘i love you so much’ and more rants about the things he likes.

Once he’s settled in enough he will be at your door every night to sleep with you.

Cuddles omg, the amount of physical affection you will receive once he’s comfortable enough is crazy.

Plays with your hair, scratches at your scalp.

MAKES A MIXTAPE FOR YOU.

He would love to do the trend where you buy nail polish of each others eye color n paint it on your nails, or buy gemstones to make bracelets.

Might carve your initials into the wood of his hatchets when you guys are together for while.

Cups your face before he kisses you.

WILL burrow his face into any part of you.

Show him new music and he will listen to it everyday to memorize it for you.

can i go to ellie and mason. HOUSE 💜

also it might be obvious i have a favorite.. 100% listened to don’t you dare forget the sun writing this.

HUGEEE creds to bae (/plat) @kumcore !!

#ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #ticci toby headcanons

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puppy-steve · 2 years ago

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@steddieas-shegoes :)

the media and fans have a field day with it. steve and eddie have been public for years yet there's pictures all over twitter of steve cozied up in a booth in the corner of whatever bar, tucked tight into gareth's side under his arm with eddie nowhere in sight. a different fan posts a tiktok of them from a different angle and a little closer and you can clearly see that steve is drunk. his eyes shine unfocused in the camera flash and his cheeks are flushed. in the video he laughs loudly at something and just before one of cc's security guards blocks the view, steve leans in and buries his face in gareth's neck and gareth's fingers go to his hair.

the cheating allegations come out after that. article after article with the photo on the front page but it's nothing but radio silence from the band's twitter. no statement from eddie or gareth. fans think they're hashing it out behind the scenes and are preparing themselves for gareth's exit statement from the band or for the news to hit of steve and eddie breaking up.

none of that happens.

gareth stays in the band, steve and eddie go on like normal. they're papped in a starbucks in new york looking just as much in love as they were before the scandal. eddie and gareth don't behave any different in the videos they post of each other or on stage.

it kind of dies down after that- until a video goes up on the band's youtube one afternoon, shot that morning.

they try to keep themselves as authentic as they can, show the fans that not everything is sunshine and rainbows in the industry, and that they're real people who do real people things, too.

in the video, someone knocks on a hotel door and jeff answers. he says something that's purposefully scripted very badly and it gets a laugh out of the guys. the video shows them walking into jeff's room and it's revealed that it's a room tour. they pan around the corner into the main room and there's a lump in the bed.

there's no awkward silence between them, just a laugh from freak and a "jeeeff, it's almost ten a.m." and then eddie's pulling back the covers to reveal a slumbering steve.

people watching expect the footage to cut off abruptly or for eddie to angrily demand the situation, but again, it doesn't happen. he just laughs and squats down on the side of the bed and runs his hand through steve's hair until he wakes up.

"hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with fondness as he smiles a syrupy smile that hundreds of fans have dreampt of being on the receiving end of. "have a good sleep?"

they see steve reach out and pull eddie in by the head for a kiss. the video goes back to its scheduled programing after that, eddie following steve into the bathroom to get ready.

they don't do many interviews in the span of all this happening so fans and the media are left wondering what in the world is going on between the five of them. the boys act the same on stage every night without any signs of jealousy between them.

and then steve is photographed wearing a hoodie that fans can clearly see belongs to freak just from the size alone. neither steve or freak are small guys, but the garment is like a dress on steve. it almost goes down to his knees and the arms hang at least three inches passed his hands. it threatens to hang off of one shoulder but goddamn does steve look cozy and comfortable, burrowing into the hood pulled over his head like a little hamster.

the hoodie isn't what gets their attention, though.

it's the fact that the picture is from the band's soundcheck, to the band's twitter, and that steve is sitting on gareth's lap at his drum kit, while wearing the hoodie, and while eddie is leaning down and kissing him. gareth doesn't look put off by it. he's looking somewhere off camera and laughing but his hand is still on steve's waist and steve's is tangled in eddie's wild hair.

it answers all and none of everyone's questions.

#cj talks #this sort of ran away from me lmao #steddie #corroded coffin

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dearest-nell · 8 months ago

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a real piece of art

e.m x reader, 2.8k

summary: eddie has some time to kill, and you might just be his new favourite distration. includes: art history student!reader, meet cute, eddie's an absolute dork warnings: mentions of nudity in artwork and allusions to a young eddie who is very excited by the prospect.

a/n: this came to me as i stared blankly into the void of my coffee machine this morning. i'm incapable of proofreading as per usual. i could be convinced to do a part two

Eddie had no business being here. This was an art gallery for crying out loud! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stepped in one, save that one unfortunate field trip in middle school where he’d been caught ogling a half naked sculpture in front of half the class. Sue him, he’d never seen a naked girl before, and he really had to give credit to the artist because he couldn’t look away. He’d been called a perv for a good year after that, and he’d never thought to visit another gallery again.

Until now, that was. He was due for a practice and soundcheck in what he thought was only an hour, but somewhere along the line Jeff had got the time wrong, leaving Eddie stuck in Chicago with nothing but his ego to keep him company. Eddie had kicked himself for the mistake – who rehearses at 10 am anyways? There was a silent agreement that Gareth would be handling the bookings next time, where Eddie might be able to actually stay in bed until a reasonable hour.

He’d thought to burrow down in a cafe for a little while, but the snooty businessmen and shrill giggles of the barista had sent him fleeing. The environment wasn’t conducive to good thinking anyways. He figured a little solace would do him some good, maybe give him some hard earned inspiration to turn into music for the band. So with coffee in hand, he’d taken to the streets, wandering idly as the strings of bodies moved in tandem, dodging and weaving the tracks of Tuesday morning commutes. It might have been enough for him had his jacket not been too thin for the sudden drop in temperature. Worn denim with steamed patches was hardly enough to break the piercing gusts of wind, and even his sweltering coffee in hand could not keep his hands from shaking. Looking around, Eddie felt out of luck. Cafe’s seemed too busy, and he had no real desire to start wandering shops nearby, so what was there left to do?

$14 later, Eddie puffed a relieved sigh as the warmth of the gallery enveloped him, that trembling cold slowly dissipating from his veins until his hands no longer felt like ice. He figured he’d have taken any sanctuary, though he had been hoping maybe for a Library. At least then he could have bunkered down somewhere with a book. What did you even do at a gallery anyways? He didn’t see much point in wandering around, scanning his eyes over paintings that seemed a million years old. He didn’t get art. Music was his art, after all. Even as he started to walk, all the pieces seemed to bleed together for him. Acrylics and oils and gouache melted into the blur of faces and places and things. Sure, they looked pretty, but Eddie couldn’t see why anyone would waste their time to sit and paint something like this, let alone stare at it for hours.

He passed through room after room like this, brows furrowed, arms crossed as he tried to puzzle out the meaning. Music and melody had meaning, lyrics filled with the words people couldn’t seem to say any other way. The sounds of instruments were sounds of heartbeats, of head rushes and blood flow and heart aches and burning desires – paintings couldn’t do that, could they?

Wandering into a smaller room, Eddie found himself caught as his eyes fixated on perhaps the only worthwhile piece of art he had seen all morning. There you were, perched somewhat uncomfortably on the plush leather seat in the room's centre, head resting delicately into cupped palms, your elbows propping you up into a figure he was sure was only meant for statues. You looked like one of the Greek ones, he thought, all soft and graceful curves, pretty lines and prettier expressions. There was a notebook in your lap, though Eddie couldn’t begin to make out what the blurry pen strokes might have noted at this distance.

You seemed so lost in thought as you stared at the piece directly before you, eyebrows knitted in concentration to match the deep set focus of your eyes, and Eddie, despite himself, was lost in you.

It was a horrifying notion to realise he was back in this same situation again, entirely different and yet all the same. Here he was, stuck motionless, staring helplessly at something beautiful, something entirely foreign to him. Naked breasts had been enough to melt a twelve year old Eddie’s mind, but this Eddie, now grown, was entirely transfixed for another reason. Never in his life had just looking at a person knocked the wind right out of him. This was beyond attraction, he thought. Beyond a pretty face and a beautiful body and all those hormones that made people spin. You were all of that, and so much more.

How he knew that seemed entirely out of reach, but the thought settled in him all the same.

Eddie watched the subtle angle of your head, the way you tried to see from a different perspective, before fixating your attention on your notebook once more, scribbling away furiously at stained parchment.

All better judgement seemed to leave him as he approached, slow and long strides to avoid the echoes of boots against floorboards in such vastness. His body took residence beside the lounge, standing tall at the opposite end, arms crossing as he tried to see what it was that had you so fascinated.

Cheese. Bread. Nuts of some kind. He tilted his head as you had, browns furrowing in confusion. Still cheese. Still bread. Still nuts of some kind. He let out a defeated huff.

“Are you okay?”

He hadn’t expected you to speak, let alone notice him, but when he turned his chin towards you he was met with a curious expression. You were even more captivating up close, as it turned out, so much so that he could not decide what captured his attention more. The soft bags of sleepless nights hung low under your eyes, your cheeks flushed with a dusty sort of colour that only the artifice of candies could achieve, your cheeks indented so delicately with the lines of so many smiles that had come before.

It was embarrassing in his eyes that he was still gawking, and even more embarrassing that you had to ask your question a second time.

“Oh– yeah. I mean… yeah. Sorry. Was I being too loud?”

The soft shake of your head was accompanied by an even gentler smile, and Eddie felt his shoulders ease a fraction away from his ears.

“No, not at all. Just seemed like a forlorn sigh.” You pointed out, uncrossing your legs to lower your feet to the ground.

Eddie’s brow raised, his tone lilting with amusement. “Forlorn, huh?”

You shrugged, though Eddie could see the slow creep of embarrassment flush your cheeks, your hand lifting to rub at it absentmindedly. “Yeah, I guess. It was just the first word that came to mind.”

Eddie was smiling before he knew what he was doing. “I like it. Forlorn. Like it’s from a poem, or something.”

A soft hum of contemplation fell from your lips, your pen scratching nervously in the margins of your notebook, patterns of stars falling into the sea of words below. “Could be. Poets are meant to be all crestfallen and stuff.”

He actually laughed at that, something sounding like a punched out breath leaving him, his eyes crinkling delightfully at the corners.

“Are you a writer or somethin’? You don’t just hear people saying words like that every day. Gotta know them by trade.”

You shrugged again, tucking a loose strand of hair behind the curve of your ear. “Student, actually. Art history, so I guess fancy words are part of the curriculum.”

It seemed strange to be meeting you like this, like someone high above had heard his complaints only to send him an angel to set him straight. An art student; maybe you could teach him a thing or two.

Eddie gestured to the seat beside you, flat palm dampened nervously at the prospect of speaking to someone so pretty, so much more learned than him. You nodded shyly, not bothering to adjust as he took up the empty space beside you, his elbows propping on his knees for comfort.

“Can I ask you something, then? Since all of this is your thing.”

You closed your notebook, folding your legs beneath you once more as you fixated your attention on him – something Eddie was sure no man could ever tire of wanting from you. “Sure”.

“Why are you staring at this one? Out of all the pictures in this place, what makes cheese so interesting.”

The astonished little chuckle that left you was something sacred, golden and warm and louder than he had anticipated. You could put that laugh to song. Maybe he would.

“It’s not the cheese,’ You clarify, your smile never shifting from your lips, “though it looks great, doesn’t it? Looks real.”

Eddie took in the piece once more, letting his eyes trace over the food to take in the finer details. It was true; it looked real. He could see the shadows, the cracks in the bread, the crumbs that had fallen onto the platter below. He realised it mustn’t have been easy to make something so real. It felt like a snapshot.

Oh fuck, do I get art now?

“Yeah, it looks real. Kinda crazy real, actually. How do they get it looking like that?”

“It’s different for different people. This one’s by Peeters, and no one’s sure where she learned to paint, but she was one of the only female professionally working artists of the 17th century. She was a big deal.”

Eddie tilted his head towards you. “Is that why you like her, then?”

You shook your head, scrunching up your nose. “It’s very impressive, but it’s not the only reason. I was looking for her signature.”

Eddie did not need to clarify himself, the confusion that etched across his face spoke volumes, leaving you to laugh again in amusement.

“A lot of artists leave signatures so you know a work is theirs. Sometimes it’s their name, or an item, or a seal – sometimes it’s on the back, sometimes it’s made to look part of the picture. She writes her name down at the bottom, see?”

You leaned in a little closer to Eddie, lining up his gaze with your own so you could point out a flourish of cursive in the corner. Drawn into you, Eddie could not help but lean into your orbit, his eyes following the line of your finger to its destination. “Oh yeah. Musician’s do that too, y’know. Chuck in a riff or a line or something to leave their mark.”

“Seems like it’s an artist's thing. I think it’s pretty cool.”

Eddie liked the insinuation that musicians were artists. He’d met too many people in his life who’d thought otherwise, who did not understand the value of art. He supposed he was one of them, though. He’d been ratting on the art around him only five minutes earlier.

“You like music, then?” He asked, eagerness in his voice betraying the cool persona he was hoping to achieve.

“I love music.” You confirmed, hands busily occupying themselves by twiddling the pen in your lap once more. “I wish they played music here. Imagine looking at all the art and listening to songs that fit. There’s these big dramatic paintings a few rooms over that are just begging for a rock instrumental to accompany it, and the cheese…” you trailed off, seemingly embarrassed to have been so caught up in the idea. “I feel like I'd be lost in it forever.”

Eddie closed his eyes for the briefest moment, letting the vision of your little dream settle in his mind. He could get around that, art and music together – two worlds colliding. It seemed all the more enticing to think you would be there too, humming away as you watched the paintings and he watched you.

“I think it sounds brilliant. You tell me when you’re building this fancy gallery and I’ll be the first one there.”

He might have died at the sincerity with which you smiled. No heart was meant to withstand such adoration brimming inside of it.

“You know, I–” you paused, garnering some courage to find the words, “the signature I was talking about before? That wasn’t the one that had me looking at this. The cheese, I mean.” You gestured vaguely towards the canvas before you, though Eddie was unwilling to peel his eyes from the work of art before him.

“Yeah? What had you looking, then?” He couldn’t believe that for the first time in his life, Eddie actually cared about what was splayed across a canvas. Whatever it was that intrigued you so, he was aching to know.

“She painted herself in the reflection of the lid on the jug. Up the top… see?” Adjusting the items in your lap, you slowly rose to your feet, extending a hand out to drag the boy up with you. Eddie faltered only for a second, contemplating whether this one single touch would make or break him. Would the sweat of his palms disgust you? He was so nervous to talk to you, after all, to take this chance. He swallowed, slipping calloused fingers into your own until he felt unperturbed digits grasp his own, your expression unphased as you guided him towards the wall.

You both paused a foot short, your free hand pointing upwards to guide his flittering eyes. Lo and behold, painted so delicately into the reflection of the jug, was a face staring back at him. His hand squeezed your own with untapped excitement, and Eddie’s mouth dropped.

“Holy shit, that’s so cool. That’s really her?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah, that’s Clara.”

It was silent for a beat, the two of you soaking in the image before you; the woman in and amongst all the pieces of a life lived so long ago. It was a moment in history, much like the one the two of you were caught in now.

Eddie marvelled helplessly, unsure what seemed to amaze him more; all these details that he never would have noticed if it weren’t for you, or the fact that you, a complete stranger, were still holding on to his hand as if it were something normal. For the briefest moment, he wondered if this could be normal, you and him.

“I think this is the ultimate signature in a painting, just writing yourself into the story like that. It’s such a small thing, but… it changes everything, doesn’t it?” You broke the silence, voice a little dream like as you spoke. Eddie could only nod dumbly, a contented smile spreading across his face.

“You wouldn’t wanna show me more of these, would you?”

Eddie couldn’t stand the idea that you might walk away after this, back to your own life that until now had been so far away from his own. He wanted to walk the whole gallery with you, your hand in his, your voice whispering sweet nothings about the history and details of the world around you.

The sheer excitement that crossed your features was an expression unmatched, never before seen. It was like he had asked you the one question you had been waiting for your whole life. Maybe you had been. Maybe no one had ever taken interest in the thing you seemed to love so much. He knew what that was like after all, his music had not been everyone's cup of tea.

Maybe it could be yours.

“Oh, I– really?”

“Only if you want to. I spent my whole time here trying to work out what made this stuff so special; I think you might be the one to show me. I’ll buy you coffee as thanks, if you like. I mean… I’d like to take you out for coffee.”

He felt like a bumbling idiot, pausing to breathe an embarrassed chuckle. “You can also tell me to get lost at any time.”

Eddie wasn’t sure if you noticed the way your hand seemed to tighten in his own, the movement causing his heart to beat in unsteady rhythms. It was something so small that seemed to shift his entire world – your hand holding his.

Your head tilted with a smile. “You never said your name, y’know.”

“Eddie.” He breathed out a little too fast. He’d have to kick himself later for it, because right now, he was too fixated on the way his foolishness seemed to make you smile all the wider.

“Eddie.” You echoed, turning your body to face his own. “I’d love a coffee.”

It took everything in him not to fist bump in triumph, his body aching to wriggle with the excitement that was slowly taking over muscle by muscle. How the hell had his morning turned out this good?

“Sounds like a date, then.”

(images not mine)

“Still Life with Cheeses, Almonds and Pretzels” by Clara Peeters (ca. 1615)

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axeoverblade · 2 years ago

Text

Celoso

Earth 1610 Miles x fem! reader

Synopsis! Miles cut ties with you, his best friend of nearly ten years, when he decided to not so kindly tell you the way you felt about him was how he felt about Gwen. Now weeks later when you show up with a new guy, he couldn’t help but feel a covetous pit of envy burrowing deep inside his body.

MASTERLIST

Genre: angst(? not really), suggestive bits

Warnings: Mature!, foul language, toxic on every end, mentions of cheating

Word count: 2k

Authors commment: unedited and poorly written scrap fic from a while ago but I really liked this piece of it so I’m publishing it. One shot no second part. Enjoy <3

It had been months since Miles had spoken to you. His parents were concerned. They kept asking where you were, Miles would just sigh and say you had been busy.

I mean it wasn't his fault, he just didn't feel the same way you felt. Why was he being punished for that, for liking Gwen instead of you? Granted, he could’ve been a little nicer in his delivery. Who was he kidding, he could’ve been a hell of a lot nicer, but it was too far gone to change it now.

You just wouldn't get it. You have been his best friend since infancy. With you everything felt familiar, safe even. But with Gwen, he felt alive. Why was that so wrong, why wasn’t he allowed to be happy with who he wanted to be with?

He continued living his life as usual as he could make it. Still saving New York, still being Spiderman, still being Miles, just as life would be if he never met you. The ordinary.

Something that wasn't ordinary, was Gwen visiting. His dads party was happening, and even though he had just gotten into a big fight with his parents, he still wanted to go up and introduce her.

It didnt take long for Mrs.Morales to hate Gwen. Rio was furious, I mean the girl had the nerve to call her by her first name! You would never do that. Plus this girl looked old enough to vote.

This was not someone Miles should be hanging out with, especially over you.

So Rio took it upon herself to invite you. She hadn't seen you in a long time anyway, so she missed “the daughter she never had”. Knowing Miles would have to see you and eventually fix whatever happened between the two of you was just a bonus.

…

When you walked through the door to the roof a little while after she sent you that text, Rio squealed with delight.

“Jeff, papi mira! It’s Y/n” she saw a gift in your hand, something Gwen did not bring. “Ah! Y/n Mija! ¡Es muy bueno verte! Cómo está?” “Good Mrs.Morales, thank you for asking. How have you been? Sorry for not visiting, I've been busy.” “nonsense chiquita, I’m so happy you could make it, venir, venir! Come say hi! Everyone has missed you!” You gave a curt nod, preparing yourself for all the questions from the big familia and more importantly, seeing Miles.

Rio paused, seeing a tall, attractive, dark skin boy with dreads behind you, holding your hand. She looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Quién es ese” you pretended not to hear her, instead walking next to him behind her as she went further into the party.

After a couple of minutes of reuniting with all of the family, you saw Jeff and gave him his present. He thanked you, “Hey you know the girl Miles is with?” You looked around, still not seeing him. You shook your head no.

Jeff noticed the boy you were with was now holding your waist with one hand, standing next you. He side eyed him questionably. Jeff could’ve sworn you would only let Miles hold you like this, hating intimate acts physical touch from anyone but his son. Who was this guy who had won you over?

“Miles,” Rio paused looking at Gwen, “and uh you too I guess, Guess whos here! Come say hi! ” Rio told miles, pulling him with Gwen following over to whoever his mom wanted him to see. “Whos here mami-” He was cut off by the sight of Y/n talking to his father, and some random-, holding your waist?

He furrowed his eyebrows, who in the hell is that?

“Ay! Y/n look who!” Rio pushed her son forward so you could see him. He looked back displeased at his moms antics before turning to face you. Miles stared at you awkwardly, “Uh, hey.” You nodded at him with pursed lips.

The girl you had seen in all the drawings appeared next to him, no doubt this was girl he liked instead of you.“Uh-Hi! I'm Gwen!” She stuck her hand out, you looked at it before just nodding, causing her to drop her hand embarrassed, “Y/n”.

Rio smirked, happy you didn't like her either.

“So who are you?” Miles asked looking at the guy holding your waist, a little more aggressive in his tone than he needed to be. Miles watched as the guy raised an eyebrow mockingly at Miles. “Dre, nice to meet you”. Dre stuck his hand out, Miles to look him up and down ignoring the gesture. Dre dropped his hand, smirking lousily at Miles' expression.

Miles couldn't help but notice Dre was about an inch taller than him.

He didnt like that.

“Um, so how do you two know each other?” Gwen asked, looking between you and dre.

“I'm her boyfriend”

Miles unconsciously pulled his head into his neck, making the most aggressive stank face known to man. “Since when” he scowled, trying to hide the attitude in his voice. He wasn’t hiding it very well. Dre responded for you, “few weeks ago, why?”.

“huh” miles nodded ignoring the question, clearly annoyed. Dre kissed your shoulder, smirking harder, almost a full blown grin making its way to his face at miles expression. Miles's spider senses involuntarily made him aware of your heartbeat speeding up as you blushed, slightly giggling to yourself.

Miles had no clue why this bothered him so much. I mean he was right next to Gwen, the girl of his dreams. You being with this wannabe Luka Sabbat really shouldn't have bothered him so much. And why was your heart beating so quick from him kissing your shoulder? You didnt actually like this bum for real did you?

Feeling Miles prying eyes, you looked at him skeptically before turning to dre. “Well-uh we better get going before were late. Congrats Captain Morales,” you looked at Jeff and smiled lightly. “Um nice to meet you Gwen,” she nodded, grinning nicely. You turned to Rio “it's always nice to see you Mrs.Morales, contact me if ever need help with anything.” “Yes mija. Thank you for stopping by.” You finally turned to Miles,

“Miles”

“Y/n”

Gwen stared between the two of you confused. What was that?

tap! tap! tap!

You groaned at the sound coming from your window. Covering your head with her blanket trying to ignore the noise, you pretended to be asleep.

The taps soon turned to knocks causing you to groan louder “Dre hold on I heard you” you got up begrudgingly leaving the comfort of your bed to open the window.

“-oh, it's you." Opening the glass surprised, you allowed Miles in. Miles stared you up and down, taking note of the fact you were in nothing but a big tee, a big tee he had never seen before.

“Why is he coming to your room through the window?” He questioned, towering over you. “Miles what are you talking about?-”. “You thought it was Dre at your window right? No te hagas la mudo y/n. Why is he coming through your window, especially this late at night.”

“I dont see how that is any of your concern. We havent spoken in weeks and you wanna pretend you care what's going on in my life, on my time? Nah, that's not how that works.” Miles scoffed. “Whos shirt is that y/n- cause I know it's not yours.” “Its Dre’s, but that none of your business-” “What is he? Some rebound?” He laughed sardonically. “I mean there's no way you even really like the dude, you just liked me!” You scoffed, “Not everything is about you miles, this has nothing to do with you, I moved on.” he looked at you “Estás mintiendo”. “Oh yea? What makes you think that huh? Y-you think i'm so stuck on you that i can't move on from- what? Some stupid crush on you? Get over yourself Miles-” “tu latido” he whispered. “What?” “Your heartbeat y/n, I know you're lying ‘cause your heartbeat.” You looked at him blanky, hiding the shock in your face as he stepped closer to you, leaving a small gap between you two.

“I can feel it, Sé tú mi amas.”

He gently grabbed your neck, leaning down to kiss you. Your eyes widened before closing. Embracing the moment, you wrapped your arms around Miles' neck. Your mouth parted slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Feeling your knees buckle, Miles took his free hand and placed it on your backside, effectively stabilizing you. He could sense you, all of you.

Your heart was beating the fastest it ever had. He could feel your chest rising and falling as you struggled to breathe through your nose. Your pheromones were at their strongest. He smirked into the kiss, loving the effect he had on you.

This is wrong. You had a boyfriend, sure only for only about a month but you did still have one. And you were cheating on him with Miles of all people. Your lips shouldn’t have fit together like puzzle pieces, chest rising and falling at the same time with your hearts beating in sync. It was natural, like you were meant for each other.

But he wasn’t yours and you weren’t his.

You knew you should stop. You should end this before it got too far, before it got to a point beyond something an apology could fix.

But if this was so wrong,

¿Por qué se sintió tan bien?

You sat on your bed anxiously, zoned out at staring at the ceiling. It had been two days since the…incident.

Miles' tongue fought for dominance with yours. He guided you over to your bed, hands roaming all over you body needingly. You slightly tripped falling back onto the edge of the mattress, still kissing him passionately as he leaned over you. He stabilized himself putting his knee between your legs, placing his hands on either side of you. Your hands were woven into his curls, slightly pulling on them causing him to groan in the kiss. His tongue won, exploring your mouth as it pleased.

ring! ring! ring!

You pulled away from miles, a string of saliva visibly attaching the two of you as you moved further away. You breathed heavily as you looked at the user ID calling you.

DREBAE<3 is calling!

…

answer-decline

You stared at the phone wide eyed. From your expression Miles knew exactly who had called you. “no respondas eso y/n.” Miles said sternly, so close you could feel his breath tickling your neck. The way he said it seemed less like a statement and more like an ultimatum. You looked up at Miles, your chest rising and falling quickly.

“...Hello baby?” you said as you put it on speaker staring at Miles, still trying to catch your breath. Miles scoffed looking at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Hey mami” Miles looked at the phone in your hand with pure disgust. Who did this guy think he was giving you that nickname? Did he even speak spanish? “I need you, real bad” Dre said breathily through the phone, causing your eyes to go wider than they already were. Miles however, became very irritated. Who in the hell did this guy think he was? And why haven’t you hung up the phone yet?

Miles quickly got up, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. It was clear who your choice was. He scoffed, walking back over to your window . To him it didn’t matter what he said you to a few months ago, that he chose someone else over you. Or the fact you had a boyfriend who had every right to call you.

It was the fact it was only you and him right now, and you didn’t choose him. He suddenly felt the feeling you must’ve experienced when he did this to you. And damn did it hurt.

Miles stared at your figure, an unreadable look in his eye. Going back through your window with one last glance at you, he shut it with a slam. “What was that baby?” Dre asked through the phone.

“uhm.. Just the wind I think.”

©axeoverblade

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ilovetopgunsstuff · 9 months ago

Note

HI. I’m not sure if you take Joe Burrow requests for one shots? But if you do, can you write one that focuses on his hands? And bonus points for thigh riding too :)

quality time

prompt- it’s been a while, and joe has to give you some sort of apology for making you wait this long

joe burrow x reader

warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI

sorry for the wait i’ve been so busy with school

It had definitely been a while. Between games and practices, Joe was stretched thinly every week. This didn’t mean you didn’t get quality time, but you didn’t get that type of quality time. The both of you were usually too tired and busy to do anything, so you’d just fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

It wasn’t the end of the world, of course. You still got to see him and hang out with him, but you were tense still. Very tense. You didn’t know how to tell him this. Hey we haven’t had sex in a while and it’s pissing me off. Like you would ever have the courage to say that. On the outside, you were shy, but on the inside, you were overwhelmed with need. He was usually the one initiating things, so you never really knew how to let him know. You were always satisfied with its frequency and his timing… until this week. He was so busy, so you couldn’t put more stress on him. You’d feel so guilty if you put him under even more stress just because you wanted to have sex. So you’d stay quiet and waiting, as composed as you could be until he got more time.

Right now, you were sitting on your couch, scrolling on your phone, nothing interesting catching your eye. You tossed it beside you with a huff. Maybe you’d try the TV. After looking through shows and movies on every platform, nothing piqued your interest. A frustrated sigh broke out of your lips, and you wanted to throw an adult tantrum. Thankfully, a text notification snapped you out of your misery.

Joe: practice is getting out early. dinner? meet me at jeff ruby’s in an hour.

You ignored the fact that he only gave you an hours notice to get ready, and the fact that he didn’t even wait for dinner confirmation. You smiled at your phone, hearted the message, and jumped up to go get ready.

You did what you could with the time you had. It was a pretty nice restaurant, so you couldn’t dress casual. You decided on an ivory dress. It was tight and ended at your upper thigh. You ran a straightener through your hair as quick as you could, and rushed through your makeup. You looked at yourself in yne mirror. Not too bad. You glanced at the time.

“Shit.” You were running late.

You hopped out the door, putting your nude heel on with one hand and unlocking you car with the other.

You pulled into the parking lot right on time, walking into the restaurant while smoothing out your hair and dress. You hoped you looked okay. It had been a while since the two of you had gotten o do something like this. When you got to the host stand, she recognized you, already moving to lead you to your table, to Joe.

“Mrs. Burrow, you look so nice this evening,” she told you, smiling. You knew she probably had to say things like that, but you were thankful nonetheless.

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled at her. She led you to the back of the restaurant, stopping at one of the private booths. Hm, fancy. She said something, wishing you a nice dinner or something like that, and strode away. You had kind of

tuned her out as you stood in front of the curtained booth. Why were you nervous? You were married to him for Christ’s sake.

Slowly, you pulled back the curtain. There he was. He had been doing something on his phone, eyes darting upward with the sound of the opening curtain. His attentive eyes softened as he noticed it was you. He stood up, smiling. His full height caused you to look up at him. He wore a white collared shirt with blue pants and crisp white air forces. You knew he kept extra clothes in his locker at work, but he had cleaned up really nice. He grabbed you gently by your hands, kissing one as he pulled you to him. His arms wrapped around your waist and he nuzzled into your neck.

“You look pretty,” he mumbled. “Mm, and you smell good.”

“Joe,” you giggled. “We’re in public.” This beginning introduction did nothing but make things harder for you, a throb beginning in between your legs. You hadn’t felt it for a week, and it overwhelmed you. You breathlessly sighed into his shirt.

“Let’s not be in public then,” he said, and he pulled you into the private booth. You sat across from him, fiddling with the hem of your dress as you crossed your legs. You watched him silently, admiring his every move and soaking up the image of him before he went back to work. You were happy to freely stare while he was distracted. He smoothed his shirt, his expensive watch glinting on his wrist. His hands were so big, and you watched as he grabbed his phone, silencing it with the side button and flipping it over to put it down on the table, the veins on them catching the dim light.

Fuck.

It’s like you were out of control. You needed him, desperately.

“Y/n?” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked up, and he smirked at you, tilting his head slyly.

“Hm?” your cheeks were for sure pink.

“I asked how your day was,” he smiled, a teasing look in his eyes.

It was dreadful, boring, and touch-starved. “My day was okay,” you replied softly, your gaze struggling to stay off his hands, absentmindedly tracing the table.

“Really?” he asked, sliding his arms forward on the table to grab your small hands in his larger ones. A sigh escaped you as you looked down at them. You crossed your legs tighter.

“Mhm. H- How was work?”

“Oh, you know. It’s work.”

The conversation flowed better when the food started coming out. You had something to distract you from him. It’s a wonder you didn’t drool while looking at him. A steak was just what you needed, with plenty of sides to occupy you. You realized you hadn’t eaten all day due to your frustration.

You started getting full, and finished up eating. Joe watched you, as he ate a massive steak plus sides at a super speed.

“I’m ready to pay,” he said to himself, then looked at you with a smirk. In a lower voice, he said, “I haven’t gotten to take your clothes off in…what-“

“Two weeks,” you said, looking blankly at him.

“Huh.” He pursed his lips and looked at you, half sorry and half amused. “You sure it’s been two weeks? I would say a week and a half,” he joked. He’s just a funny guy tonight.

You were not amused. You wanted to go home, needed to go home, with him. You said nothing, just rolled your eyes and leaned back against the booth. Finally, you looked back at him to find he was already looking at you.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed to you. You ran your tongue around the inside of your mouth, unable to keep from smiling even though you were trying not to.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked, amusement present on his face.

“Yes!”

“Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted me to… I mean you know I can’t refuse that,” he chuckles.

“How am I supposed to tell you that? You’re always the one that starts it.” You huffed and pouted at him. “You stopped for two weeks, how am I supposed to know why?”

He pursed his lips together, obviously trying not to laugh.

“This is not funny! I’m miserable!”

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry. Seriously.” He tilted his head, eyes softening as he grabbed your knee under the table. As if that would help your current condition.“C’mere.”

He grabbed your hand, leading you around the table to sit next to him. He checked carefully to male sure the curtain still hid the both of you. He grabbed you by the hips and dragged you to sit on one of his legs. Your dress had ridden up to your upper thighs and he gripped your hips tightly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing into his shoulder. You sucked in a gasp when he rolled your hips along his thigh, painfully slow.

“Joe!” you breathed out.

“Hm, this is what you wanted I thought, he smiled into your neck, amused at how flustered you were.

“Please just take me home,” you begged, and you sounded so needy.

He chuckled and pecked the crook of your neck. “I know, I know,” he pouted at you.

It didn’t take long to pay, though the waitress furrowed her eyebrows when she saw you sitting on the opposite side of the table as she last saw you. Normally, you would care, but not now.

Luckily, Joe rode with another player to work this morning, and ubered to meet you at Jeff Ruby’s. This meant he could drive you home. You don’t think the speedometer dipped below 70 the whole way home. He had one hand on the wheel, the other gripping your thigh tightly, leaving red splotches for each finger after he let go. You could tell he was anxious to get home, to get to have you. You were also anxious to get home. You don’t know how long you could wait; his manspread in the drivers seat was so tempting. Luckily, you pulled into the garage soon after the thought.

He was grabbing at you before you could even get in the door. When you finally did, he roughly pushed you against it, hungrily kissing your neck. Every nip and kiss caused a yelp from you. It had been so long. You felt him touching at the back of your thigh, so you instinctively picked up your leg. He picked you up, carrying you into the closest room, which happened to be the kitchen.

He plopped you on the counter, you gasping as your bare thighs made contact with the marble countertops. He grabbed around both knees with one hand each, pulling you to the edge of the counter so you were easier to reach. He used his large hands to bunch up your tight dress at the waist.

“Such a pretty dress,” he murmured. “What a shame it’s in my way.”

He picked each leg up, one by one, resting them on his shoulders to gently take of your heels, kissing the inside of your thighs in the process.

You watched as his hands gently danced across your skin as he did this, and he noticed.

“Aw, look. This is what you were so focused on the whole dinner? Couldn’t even think straight huh?” Joe cooed between kisses. He put each leg back down on the counter, making sure they were spread.

His hand traced down up your thigh from the knee, finally touching down where you needed him. He gently brushed you over the fabric of your panties, which were nearly soaked. You cried out in satisfaction. Finally. You had been waiting for this for weeks, and he knew that now, too.

“I’m so sorry for making you wait like this,” he whispered in your ear, sincerely this time.

You couldn’t respond coherently, since at that point, he pushed your underwear to the side and plunged his fingers into you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, crying out and gasping for air.

He curled his fingers ever so slightly, and your legs jerked. He moved forward, holding one leg open with his free hand and the other with his leg.

He looked you in your eyes as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, and your eyes rolled back in your head. He used his thumb to rub your clit, and you felt the sweet tension building in your stomach.

“I’m gonna come soon,” you breathed out.

You were right on the brink, right about to go over the edge. Then it stopped. He took his hand away, coming in between your legs to kiss you as you sighed in desperation. You were so close.

“Please,” you whimpered, as his hand affectionately rubbed your thigh.

He sucked the wetness off his fingers, looking you in your eyes.

“I know,” he cooed. “Give me just a second.”

Then he unbuttoned his white shirt, and his pants and belt dropped to the floor. His shoes were kicked off, and he stood there in just his boxers and socks. He slid your panties down your legs, then un zipped your dress.

You were left on the counter in nothing. You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes.

He harshly grabbed you by each thigh, jerking you to the edge of the counter harshly.

He pulled down his boxers, his dick springing up out of them. You were sure drool was pooling in your mouth. He positioned himself perfectly against you. Pushing ever so slightly, then stopping the pressure. He was teasing you.

A desperate cry sat in your throat. “Please, Joe, please.”

He suddenly pushed in to his hilt, and time slowed down. You don’t know if you were silent or if you just could t hear yourself over the pleasure. You sucked in a breath, wanting to snap your legs together and spread them even wider at the same time. The feeling was so overwhelming, but it was exactly what you needed.

He was fully buried inside of you, and he hadn’t moved yet. He just relished you, breathing against your neck and holding onto your hips. You would have small little pinpoint bruises tomorrow from the pressure of his fingertips on your soft skin.

Then there was movement, perfect aching movement and friction. His thrust were slow, but thorough. He pressed against every crevice, for just for him. He whimpered into your ear. You wrapped your legs around his middle. Now the two of you were fully touching. His stomach on yours, chest against yours, skin against skin. The two of you spoke only to each other, only for each other.

“I’ll never make you wait like this again, y/n. I cant believe I neglected you like this. I hope you don’t stay mad at me,” he said to you, slowly stroking in and out of you.

“I could never stay mad at you,” you whispered in his ear. He smiled against your skin and picked up his pace, causing you to barb your nails into his back.

Your cries echoed throughout the kitchen with each thrust. “I’m gonna come,” you told him.

“Wait for me, baby,” he groaned. “Just a little longer.”

His thrusts picked up and you struggled to keep yourself from unraveling. You dug your nails into him even harder.

He then sputtered, “Come, y/n, Come with me.”

You arched into him, letting yourself get sweet release. You closed your eyes and time stopped. It was heavenly. You don’t know how long it lasted. He held onto you as he came, seemingly as strong as you. A year rolled down your cheek. You cling to him, legs shaking and trembling around him. It died down, and you were suddenly drowsy. Euphorically, incredibly drowsy.

You leaned against his chest with half lidded eyes, wanting to just pass out right then and there against him.

“You took it so well,” he whispered to you, rubbing your back softly. He grabbed your face gently with both hands, looking down at you. Your lidded eyes stared back at him in ecstasy. He wiped away your tear with his thumb and kissed you. You don’t know how many times you told him you loved him after that, but you do know you passed out shortly after.

Maybe that two weeks wasn’t so bad after all.

#fanfic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #cincinnati bengals

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ryomanticizing · 6 months ago

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The Devil's Minion / Interview With The Vampire

"What ties this wolf to this lamb, she figures, is the fact that it hasn’t eaten it. Painful mystery of the gift that returns through reflection: what the wolf loves in the lamb is its own goodness. It’s thanks to the lamb that the wolf accedes to the plane of love—the love that gives of itself without hope, without calculation, without response, but that nevertheless gives of itself, seeing itself give of itself. The wolf given to a lamb of the Griniov type who doesn’t even notice the enormity of the gift—that’s really love. There remains the infinite solitude of the wolf, invisible and unrecognized except by itself. What interest does Pougatchov have in not eating the lamb? The ascetic and dangerous interest of self-love. The lover loves the beloved, which is the occasion for generous love. But thereafter—thereafter there is the aftermath. Now the wolf can no longer break away from the lamb, for the lamb retains, for better or worse, traces of the gift. That which is given in love can never be taken back. It is me my entire self that I give with the gift of love. This is why the wolf can’t stop loving the lamb, the chosen one. Repository of the wolf. All of the wolf. That’s how love can ruin the lover." - translation of Hélène Cixous' The Love of the Wolf

Agustín Gómez Arcos, The Carnivorous Lamb // from a uquiz i took ages back // Travis Scott, SDP Interlude // Mabel, Episode 15: Killing the Moon // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Andrew Kane, How To Be A Dog // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Ocean Vuong, On Earth We Are Briefly Gorgeous // @achillics, vulnerability // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Azra T. // excerpt transcribed from the video 'The Ambiguity of Relationships' by Professor Francis Ambrosio // from the translation of Hélène Cixous' The Love of the Wolf // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Karese Burrows, from “Persephone Writes a Poem,” This Is How We Lost Each Other // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Raleigh Richie, Bloodsport // David Cronenberg, Consumed // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Jessa Crispin // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // unknown // Sean Glatch, from “Caffeine, Pt. 1,″ 4:41 // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // @starstark // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Saaba Tahir // Jeff Buckley, Lover, You Should've Come Over // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // k.c.cramm, christmas eve forever // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Jeff Buckley, Lover, You Should've Come Over // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Yves Olade, Bloodsport // Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // @thepoisonroom // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // Caluco, Maggots // Anne Rice, QOTD, The Devil's Minion // all gifs are from Interview With The Vampire S2E05

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joeys-babe · 8 months ago

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Joey B Imagines: Mary Jane’s Last Dance

Summary: You and Joe attend the golf event pre-party, main event, and after-party. You had no idea what would unfold, though.

Warnings: Angst, cut-off smut, uncharacteristic ITM.

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

May 30, 2024 - Golf event pre-party

“Honey.” - Joe

Hearing a pet name only one person calls me, I paused my conversation with one of the Jeff Ruby’s caterers to look over my shoulder and see Joe standing being me.

“Mhm?” - you

“Your parents are here with the boys.” - Joe

I said goodbye to the sweet caterer and walked off, Joe lacing his fingers with mine as he guided me toward the entrance of the venue.

“I didn't think they'd be here till later.” - you

“They won't be.” - Joe grinned

Looking up at him, Joe was already looking down at me with a smile on his face.

“They aren't here?” - you

“Nope. I just wanted to get you alone.” - Joe

We heard voices walking near us, so Joe hurried to rush us both into a nearby storage closet.

Joe and I had our hands over each other's mouths as we kept from laughing, his arms around my waist as tightly as they could be to accommodate my bump.

We continued to be quiet till the voices drifted off, and Joe left my arms to find a light.

“Why’d you want to get me alone?” - you smile

Joe flicked the light on and locked the door, his smirk telling me exactly what he wanted before he could say himself.

“Joey… we can't be gone too long. Your mom is going to come looking for you in about ten minutes.” - you laughed

The smirk never left Joe’s face as he walked up to me teasingly slowly, his tongue-in-cheek expression oddly convincing.

“Ten minutes is plenty of time for us, baby.” - Joe

Joe was now right in front of me. My eyes met with his chest before I looked up at his downturned face.

“Please. You look fuckin’ gorgeous tonight. I need you.” - Joe

His voice carried that whininess it always gains when he's needy, and it was nothing but hot to me.

“Fine-” - you

Joe cut me off when he leaned down and smashed his lips onto mine, his hands slowly reaching for my waist before they slid back to my lower back.

“Jump- wait fuck, never mind.” - Joe

I laughed at his remembrance that I was eight months pregnant and completely not able to jump, Joe’s lips still rough on mine.

Sadly, Joe pulled his lips away from mine with an audible pop, and I watched him look around the room. I grinned at the sight of Joe’s lips, which were slightly puffy, red, and glistening with our joint saliva.

It amazed me that Joe still wanted me like this even though I was pregnant, swollen, and moody.

“What’s wrong?” - you

“Nothin’, Mama. Just trynna find something that I can set you down on. I don't want you standing while I finger you.” - Joe winked

Fucking hell, this man.

Just as Joe looked like he had a lightbulb moment and wrapped an arm around my back to lead me somewhere, his phone started wringing in his pocket.

“God, damn it.” - Joe grumbled

I watched him pull his phone out, and Joe showed me the caller ID with an annoyed look on his face. When I made eye contact with him, he blinked fast and repeatedly to drive home the point that he was annoyed.

“Just answer, babe.” - you chuckled

It was Robin, his mom, probably looking around the entire venue for him.

As soon as he lets out a deep sigh and answers, putting the phone on speaker and mumbling a greeting, Robin starts yelling.

“Where in God’s name are you?! It is your name on the foundation, and you are nowhere in sight! Did you kidnap poor y/n and leave?!” - Robin

I had to try to stifle a giggle when Joe’s face turned into a replica of the grimacing emoji.

Joe’s eyes were playfully wide as he looked at me, lying and telling his mom that he had to grab something from the car.

“Yeah, uh, y/n was getting a headache and asked me to go with her to the car to grab some Tylenol.” - Joe lied

I looked at him and rolled my eyes, Joe only winking at me in return.

They continued their conversation, and I started drifting off, my eyes wandering around the room and over Joe till they landed on the major tent in his pants. He’s wearing his grey skinny jeans and a white cream sweater, and I know those pants have to be uncomfortable right now.

Almost as if Joe could sense my gaze on his crotch, he dropped a hand down to his manhood in an attempt to rearrange his erection into a more comfortable place.

I cocked my head to the side as I caught him giving himself a little squeeze before pulling his hand away, trying to aid the pressure just a little bit.

A minute later, Robin yelled at Joe one last time to make his rounds before getting off the phone.

“You in trouble?” - you smiled

“Def grounded.” - Joe

I chuckled before walking closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist to hug him. Joe used a hand to push my head onto his chest before wrapping his arms around my shoulders. We swayed back and forth slowly, Joe laying his head down against mine as he sighed in contentment.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too. I'm so thankful to have you, y/n. I couldn't do any of this without you.” - Joe

Pulling my head away from his chest, I looked up at Joe and smiled at him before pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“No one else’s side I’d rather have glued to mine.” - you grinned

Joe doesn't say anything in return, just smiles before opening the locked closet door.

“Wait. Joe. You can kinda see your…” - you trailed off

He looked at me with pure confusion on his face before it clicked. Joe’s eyes went wide before he shut and locked the door back.

“We’re finishing this later, by the way.” - Joe

I playfully rolled my eyes, and Joe turned his back to me before I heard the sound of his pants being unzipped.

A moment later, Joe zipped his pants back up and turned around.

“Boner check.” - Joe

I couldn't help but laugh to myself as I looked down at his crotch, Joe doing the same.

“Looks fine, I guess?” - you chuckled

“Good because it is wildly uncomfortable. My dick is like bent in half.” - Joe laughed

“What?! I still want to be able to use it after this!” - you

We were both laughing as Joe opened the door, one of his hands holding mine as we walked out of the closet.

Joe was playfully swinging our arms but stopped dead in his tracks when we rounded the corner and were face-to-face with his mother.

“Your car isn't in that direction, Joseph Lee. It’s in the back parking lot, not the front.” - Robin

At the same time, I looked up at Joe, and Joe looked down at me.

Robin sensed that the two of us might have been trying to fool around based on our frantic expressions, and her face faltered to one of slight disgust.

She wasn't disgusted with the fact that we were getting active, though. It was because she had caught us sneaking around.

“Oh. Uhm, never mind. Just… go mingle, Joe. I'll leave you two alone.” - Robin

I giggled to myself when Robin speed-walked away from the awkward interaction.

“That was awkward.” - you

Joe chuckled beside me and rested his hand on the small of my bag, rubbing it softly as he leaned down to kiss my temple.

“Could be worse. Imagine she was standing there when we walked out the first time. Before I fixed myself.” - Joe

I playfully slapped Joe’s chest, not finding his words as funny as he did.

“I’m honestly surprised she or my dad haven't walked in on us. We've been having mind-blowing sex for years.” - Joe

“Joseph Lee!” - you

Joe laughed as I shoved him. He naturally came right back up to me to help guide me, and before I knew it, we were back at the main area of the venue.

Soon, Joe was deep in conversation with someone, and I stood to the side of him shifting my weight from one swollen foot to the other.

I was due in July, and at that stage where I was majorly uncomfortable.

Joe looked over at me, still listening to the guy he was talking to but sensing my restlessness.

“You okay?” - Joe mouthed

Nodding, Joe turned back to the man and apologized before asking him to pause for a moment.

Joe looped his arm with mine and pulled me over to the couch his parents were sitting on.

“Sit down, baby. You don't have to walk around with me if you're feet are hurting.” - Joe

“I’m fine, Joe. I promise…” - you

My words trailed off when Joe raised an eyebrow at me and cocked his head to the side.

“Okay. Fine, my feet hurt.” - you

“See was that hard to admit? You should've just stayed home like I initially suggested.” - Joe

I rolled my eyes at his words. This was a conversation that had occurred multiple times during both my pregnancies. Joe always turned into a helicopter husband, and though it's sweet sometimes, he can go a little overboard, just like he was now.

Joe saw a standing oscillating fan across the room and walked away to grab it. Robin bumped my elbow with hers, and I just angled my head toward her and shook it side to side at Joe. My mother-in-law only laughed, knowing Joe would go overboard when I gave him the smallest hint that I was dealing with discomfort.

Sure enough, Joe unplugged the huge fan and easily carried it over to me with one arm. He looked around for a plug-in before positioning the fan toward me and turning it on.

It was initially on its highest setting and sent my hair flying, along with a few cups on the coffee table at my feet.

“Shit!” - Joe

Both Robin and I yelled his full government name in sync, causing us both to laugh as Joe figured out how to turn the intensity down.

Once Joe got it set to the low setting, he looked over at the couch with a sheepish, closed-lip look on his face. Robin and I were glaring at him, and Jimmy was looking at the ground, shaking his head.

“Oopsies.” - Joe

“Oopsies indeed. Now clean this up, and I wouldn't mind if you got me one of those little appetizers.” - you

Joe nodded his head before bending down to pick up the plastic cups and napkins littered across the floor.

“Yes ma'am.” - Joe

“You’ve trained him well.” - Robin laughed

I laughed along with her for a few seconds, watching Joe walk up to one of the caterers and retrieve one of the small dishes.

“It didn't happen overnight, Robin. This is the product of subtle critiques since we started dating in 2014.” - you chuckled

Joe walked back over to me and leaned down, handing me the snack before pressing a kiss to my cheek. I giggled at the way his bangs brushed against my forehead when he pulled back to make eye contact.

“You need anything else? A drink?” - Joe

“I’m good, thank you, sweetheart.” - you

I grinned when Joe stood up to his full height with blushed cheeks. I only ever called him sweetheart in private and during our softest moments, like when he was lying on my chest and I was rubbing his back.

“Imma go find Sam. Text if you need me.” - Joe

“Okay!” - you smiled

Joe backed away slowly, almost as if he wanted me to ask him to stop and come back, and he furrowed his brows when he was six feet away, and I hadn't said anything yet. In the end, Joe turned around and walked off.

“I don't think you understand how much you mean to him, y/n.” - Robin

Her sweet words came out of nowhere, catching me off guard, so I looked over at her with a questioning look on my face.

“There’s so many people here, and even though he's bubbling with anxiety, you’re making him smile and laugh without a care in the world. Only you are capable of that, sweetie. I hope you know that. I’m also glad he’s coming out of his shell more about affection in public.” - Robin

“I feel like we’ve had variations of this conversation a hundred times, but I’ll never get tired of it. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and I'm glad I get to be that safe person for him. I, too, am happy about him getting over his PDA shyness. I remember when I was pregnant with the twins, and I got a little annoyed with him because he wouldn't hold my hand.” - you

Robin nods, letting me know that she’s listening, and I forge ahead.

I recalled the funny memory, one that Joe and I looked back on and laughed over. I was huge and pregnant and angered with him. Getting so annoyed to the point that I yelled:

“You won't hold my hand, but my baby bump is comparable to a neon flashing light sign that says I had sex with Joe Burrow!!”

The look on Joe’s face after I yelled that at him was one I will never forget. He was in awe, jaw-dropped that I’d say that to him, but the next time we were in public, he made sure to initiate some hand-holding.

Robin and even Jimmy were laughing at the story, finding it funny that I eventually worked up the courage to tell of their hermit crab of a son when I was pregnant with his twins.

“With all you do for him, you deserve some PDA, girl!” - Robin

“He knows that now.” - you laughed

“That he does. Every time I walk past him talking to someone, he's been talking about the baby, you, or the twins. Everyone in this venue probably knows how many weeks you are.” - Robin

Before I had the chance to answer, my phone started vibrating in the pocket of the loose sundress I had on. I pulled my phone out and smiled at the sight of the contact banner that came up. It was Joe.

“Hello?” - you answered

“Hey. Your parents are here with the boys.” - Joe

“Oh, yay! That could have been a text, though, right?” - you

“I’m not passing up on a chance to hear your voice.” - Joe

I could hear his grin through the phone, and Joe hung up just a few seconds later.

Robin and I’s conversation started back up till I heard the easily recognizable squeals of my boys.

I looked over at the source of the sound, and my heart fluttered because all of my favorite people were walking up to me.

Joe had Ty on his shoulders, supporting him with one hand holding his arm while Joe used the other arm to hold Miles on his hip.

“Joseph!” - you

“I got ‘em!” - Joe

My parents were trailing behind Joe, laughing at the entire scene in front of them. Once Joe was at the seating area, he helped Miles slide down his hip till his feet were on the floor. Then he reached up and grabbed Tyson under his armpits and lifted him over his head to put him down.

“Momma!!” - Miles

“There’s my boy!” - you grinned

Miles ran straight up to me on the couch, and Robin leaned down to pick him up since I obviously couldn't bend down and get him with my belly in the way.

He stood up in Robin’s lap and fell onto my chest, his arms spread in a hug-like manner.

“I missed you.” - you

My hand rested on his back as I slowly swayed side to side with him. Miles was a momma’s boy through and through, while Ty was Joe’s mini shadow, though they were both Joe’s carbon copy.

Joe was walking off when I finally opened my eyes, and I didn't even know I had closed them at one point. A smile formed on my lips as Tyson ran after him. Joe was just getting a fresh bottle of water, and when he felt little hands on his calves, a grin spread on his lips as he looked down through his Cartiers. Bliss spread through my body at the comforting weight of Miles on my chest and the adorable sight of Joe scooping Tyson up.

Sam walked over to Joe and was now talking to Tyson who was in his favorite spot, which was in his daddy’s arms.

My parents were deep in conversation with Robin and Jimmy, and I closed my eyes, sighing in contentment.

Moments later, unbeknownst to me, Joe walked back over and sat down on a chair caddy-cornered from me. His gaze was fixed on my face. He was amazed at how tensionless it was, and a flutter happened in his chest when he saw the small smile on my lips.

Joe didn't want to break the blissful spell, but he reached out and rubbed my knee gently.

“You good, babe?” - Joe

I nodded without opening my eyes, reaching down to gently rub shapes in the back of Joe’s hand. Joe gently grabbed my hand and squeezed it three times. In return, I squeezed back four times.

——

May 31, 2024 - Main golf event

Today was the main golf event held by Joe’s Foundation. It was the second annual outing, and Joe was less nervous than last year now that he had experience, but he was still dreading the outing itself.

I was currently getting ready alone in our master bathroom after taking a solo shower, which rarely happens nowadays. Joe had left the house earlier this morning, and a smile formed on my lips as I thought back to when his alarm went off this morning.

Joe’s alarm went off, and I buried my head deeper into his bare chest, trying to cut the sound off to my ear. He rolled over and turned it off before wrapping his arms around me and holding me as close as possible.

“G’morning, baby.” - Joe

His deep, raspy morning voice never failed to give me butterflies, and right now, the warmth of his big body wasn't helping.

Joe’s hand left my back and drifted down to my bump, grinning when the baby kicked in response to him pressing his palm into my belly.

“How’d my favorite girls sleep?” - Joe

Lately, baby girl has been getting restless at night, basically using my bladder as a trampoline, and Joe was aware of how it kept me from sleeping.

“Good, actually. No trapeze moves on my bladder last night.” - you

Joe felt me smile against his pec, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“That’s amazing. Can you believe she’s almost here? Because I can’t. Like, I know she's almost here, but I don’t think I’ve realized that she’s almost here.” - Joe

“I was thinking about that last night when you were rubbing lotion on my belly. I can’t wait till our girl is here, and I can’t wait to see you with her. I'm getting a little nervous about how Ty and Miles will react to her being here, though.” - you

Butterflies flew in my stomach when I fully paid attention to Joe’s current movements. He was gently rubbing his cheek against my head, stroking my baby bump with one hand, and slowly running the fingers of his other hand through my hair.

“I think they'll be okay. It’ll be hard for them to adjust in the beginning, maybe, but I think they'll love her. Remember how sweet they were when they met Evan and Gracie’s baby?” - Joe

“That is true. I’m just worried about how they'll react to having to share us with her. She will be our first priority for a bit, you know? They aren't used to not being our main focuses.” - you

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. We’ll adjust and adapt. Everything is going to be fine, I promise.” - Joe

We laid in bed for a little while longer till Joe got up and got ready. Joe told me to go back to sleep and that I didn't need to come to the event till a little bit later.

“Just relax awhile longer. You need it, Mama. You were on your feet a lot yesterday.” - Joe

“Okay.” - you nod

Joe smiled at the fact that I didn't argue back at him for once, and he leaned down to kiss my lips before grabbing his shades and exiting the bedroom.

“Bye, I love you.” - Joe

“I love you more. See ya later.” - you

I received one last grin before Joe gently shut the door behind him. Scooting over to lay on his pillow, I immediately breathed in his scent as I listened to his car start up and the garage door close.

My daydreaming spell was broken when Tyson ran into the bathroom with his mini-football.

“Hi, Momma.” - Tyson

I closed my blush palate and reached down to run my fingers through his blonde hair, smiling when he pressed his face into my leg.

“Hi, Tyson Lee.” - you smiled

“Where’s Daddy?” - Tyson

“He’s workin’.” - you

Tyson’s sad eyes looked down at the little football in his hands, and I swear my heart broke a little.

“He can pass with you tomorrow, okay? Daddy will be home all day tomorrow.” - you

“Okay…” - Tyson

My eyes grew misty as I watched him turn around and slowly walk away. The moment was sad by itself, and my raging hormones were not helping.

Thirty minutes passed, and I was fully ready. My hair was curled, my makeup was on, and so was my outfit. I had my black romper on paired with one of Joe’s old button-up shirts open and shrugged off my shoulders.

I hadn't worn the romper yet, but I knew Joe was going to love it.

My parents stayed the night yesterday in one of the open bedrooms since they'd have to watch the boys again today, so Joe and I didn't get to continue what got interrupted in the storage closet yesterday. Joe passed out right after our joint shower anyway, and I remember giggling at how his eyes kept fluttering closed when he was rubbing lotion on my bump.

After spraying some perfume and grabbing my belt bag, I went downstairs to find my parents drinking coffee in the kitchen.

“Morning!” - you grinned

“Good morning, honey. You look beautiful.” - your mom

“Thanks, Mom. How long have you guys been up?” - you

Miles ran over to me from the living room, asking me for a snack, so I walked off into the pantry to get him some gummies.

I mumbled, “There you go, buddy.” And my dad answered my previous question as I was walking back into the kitchen.

“We were awake just before Joe left. He was in a rush but made us some coffee before heading out.” - your dad

A blush formed on my cheeks at Joe’s sweet gesture, and I tried to hide it by opening the fridge to grab the smoothie I made for Joe last night.

“That’s sweet.” - you

“Mhm. He’s always been a gentleman.” - your mom

My face heated up even more, and I knew my face was probably beat red. Time to rush out of here.

“Well, I’ll see you guys later! Bye, babies.” - you

Miles and Tyson ran to hug me, and I pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks before walking out of the front door.

Joe called me as soon as I got into the car, his deep voice ringing out through the car speakers since my Bluetooth was connected.

“Hey, baby.” - Joe

“Hey, what's up?” - you

“Are you coming soon?” - Joe

I focused on backing out of the driveway before answering.

“Yup. Just pulled out of the driveway. Is everything okay? You sound a little disoriented, baby.” - you

“I’m fine, just getting bored and anxious without you here.” - Joe

“I’ll be there in just a little bit, Joey. Do I need to park where we did yesterday?” - you

“Yup. I'm at a Guinness stand right next to the parking lot too.” - Joe

Joe and I ended up going back and forth my entire drive there, though I quickly realized that was probably his plan from the beginning.

We hung up when I was pulling into the parking lot of the event venue, and I immediately spotted a tall blonde man as I walked through the back path.

Joe was pouring the contents of a can into a glass when I walked behind the counter and up to him.

“Hey, hot stuff.” - you grinned

His head shot up at the sound of my voice, and a grin spread across his lips.

“Hey, lovey.” - Joe smiled

I rolled my eyes playfully at the nickname. Back when we were in high school, we were discussing pet names for each other, and Joe jokingly suggested lovey. I initially hated it, but it became an inside joke, and over time, I grew to love it. Lately, Joe had picked up on the fact I didn't hate it as much as I made it seem like I did, and now he called me it all the time.

“I made you this.” - you

Handing him the smoothie, I watched Joe’s face light up, and I giggled when he leaned down to kiss me.

When he pulled away, Joe opened the cap and took a drink, my eyes lingering on how his adam’s apple bobbed with very swallow.

“Shit. That’s good.” - Joe

“You think? I tasted it and gagged, but I was hoping you would like it.” - you

Joe laughed and took another chug before closing the cap and setting the bottle down.

I furrowed my brows at him when he took a step back and flicked his glasses down onto his nose, his hot gaze looking me up and down a couple of times before he met my eyes and smiled.

“What?” - you laughed

Joe walked towards me and pulled me into him, squeezing me gently before nestling his mouth against my ear.

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous.” - Joe

He leaned back and winked at me before asking a question.

“Is this a new fit?” - Joe

“Kinda. This is your shirt, but the romper is new, yes.” - you

“Oh shit, that shirt’s mine? But anyway, you need to buy that romper in every color.” - Joe

Joe’s words were the more PG version of his thoughts, which were running wild.

God, her bump is so sexy, and her tits look amazing.

Someone called Joe’s name from the parking lot and I turned around to see who it was, completely unaware of the fact I was driving Joe insane. The person calling Joe ended up being Coach Taylor who waved over at us before walking off to get registered.

Holy shit, her ass- damn it, I'm getting hard.

“Hey, I forgot my sunnies at home. Do you have an extra?” - you

Joe reached into his pocket, and that's when I realized he changed his outfit since he left the house.

“What the hell? When did you change?” - you

He chuckled as he pulled out the other pair of sunnies from his pocket and pulled off the ones he had on.

I picked the ones he already had on, and he handed them to me before putting his backup pair on his face.

“I changed when I got here. It’s too hot right now for the outfit I picked out originally. I'm surprised it took you that long to realize.” - Joe laughed

“I’ve got pregnancy brain, JB.” - you

“True. Hey, Imma go find some of the guys, but I don't want you to be by yourself, so I’ll walk you to my parents first.” - Joe

I nodded and looked around at the decorations under the tent a few yards away, completely oblivious to the fact that Joe had just looked down at his crotch and groaned out of annoyance with the fact that you could tell he was semi-hard.

It wasn't until he moved forward to be covered by the counter when he dropped his hand down the front of his shorts that I realized what he was doing.

“Joseph Lee, what the fuck are you doing?!” - you

“Adjusting.” - Joe deadpanned

I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the cocky smirk on my lips. Knowing I could always turn Joe on was such a confidence boost when I didn't feel very attractive.

Just a few moments later, Joe escorted me over to Robin before meeting up with a couple of the guys on the course to take a picture.

I was sitting a little bored, and a picture that Joe was tagged in came up on my Instagram feed. It was a BTS picture that someone took of Joe taking a picture with some of the guys. I internally giggled when I saw the slight bulge in Joe’s shorts from minutes before he walked off.

That man will always keep me on my toes.

It was later in the day, and I was currently fetching Joe his clothes from his Porche.

Joe was in the single-stall men’s bathroom, and I looked around before knocking on the door.

“It’s y/n.” - you

A few seconds of silence went by before Joe spoke up.

“Tell me something only y/n would know.” - Joe

I, in return, whispered the baby’s name into the crack of the door since only Joe and I knew it, and seconds later, I heard an unlock sound. I opened the door and closed it right behind me. Joe was standing against the sink in just his boxers and socks. After handing him his jeans and Nike shirt, Joe thanked me before slipping them both on.

“Do I look fine?” - Joe

Joe smoothed his hands down his chest, attempting to get some wrinkles out of his shirt because he knew his mom would comment on them.

“Fine as hell.” - you grinned

He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss, my hands reaching up to play with the baby curls on the back of his neck.

“I love this hair.” - you

“I know you do. It’s getting a little too long for my liking, though.” - Joe

“What? You don't like how it looks?” - you

Joe sensed that I was on the verge of jumping into a huge rant about how good his hair looked, so he immediately reassured me that that wasn't the case.

“No, I like it longer, and I know you do too. I just don't like the maintenance.” - Joe

“I’ll fix it every day if you want. I can fix it when I do the boy’s hair.” - you

“Baby. I’m not gonna make you fix my hair. That’s crazy.” - Joe

“But I love it, and if you're thinking about cutting it because you don't like fixing it, I’ll start fixing it!” - you

Joe just laughed at me before pulling me into his arms. One of his big hands rubbed my back as he laid his cheek against my forehead.

“You need to calm down a little bit, lovey. I'm getting it cut tomorrow morning, and I've had it scheduled for a while as a routine trim.” - Joe

“Nooooooo.” - you

I felt him chuckle, and I rolled my eyes. Joe knew this was just a product of my extreme emotions from pregnancy.

“It’ll be okay. But we should go before my mom comes looking for us.” - Joe

“Hey, can you sit with her while I'm up there giving my speech? She won't go up there with me.” - Joe

After refusing to stand up on the stage with him, Joe had just directed me to sit down at a table at the back of the tent where he'd be on stage delivering his speech and walked over to Sam after.

I didn't know Joe had asked him to sit with me, so I smiled when Sam sat down next to me. I’d known Sam for years, as long as Joe had known him, so I'd say I knew Sam the best out of all of Joe’s teammates.

“Hey, Mrs. B.” - Sam smiled

“Hey, Sam. Have you had fun today?” - you

“For sure. Joe asked me to sit with you while he was up there delivering his speech. Are you not feeling well or something?” - Sam

Of course, he did.

“I’m fine. Your bestie is just a helicopter husband and gives me a babysitter when he's not with me. I thought it was sweet at first, but now it's a little annoying.” - you

“He’s just looking after his girl, I guess. But Joe’s always been super protective of you, so I can't imagine how worse it gets when you're pregnant.” - Sam

“Lately, he tries to follow me into the bathroom when I say I have to use it.” - you

I laughed at Sam’s grimace but stopped when Robin started talking into the mic. My attention shifted to Joe when I noticed him biting the insides of his cheeks, something he does when he's nervous. His hands were hidden behind his back, but I knew he was probably picking at his fingernails. I probably should've gone up there with him, and at that moment, I regretted telling him no.

After Robin’s adorable introduction of her son, Joe took the mic and jokingly thanked his mom. Butterflies swarmed my stomach at the sound of Joe’s deep voice through the many speakers. He went on to thank everyone for coming, specifically naming his teammates and the Bengals personnel. But his next part caught me off guard.

“And I've gotta thank someone specifically, which is my best friend who made it apparent to be here to support me and the foundation.” - Joe

Sam and I looked at each other, not exactly sure who Joe was giving a shout-out to because Ja’Marr wasn't there. Maybe it was Sam.

“She’s the First Lady of the foundation, you might say, and that is y/n. The beautiful and amazing woman that I'm proud to call myself the husband of.” - Joe

My heart dropped, and almost everyone turned around and looked at me. My cheeks immediately turned red, and Sam nudged me with his elbow.

“She’s here today, though she’s eight months pregnant with our third, and she’s been nothing short of perfect. You've probably seen her running around making sure everything was in order and also babysitting me and making sure I was where I needed to be. I just wanted to say that I'm extremely grateful for you, and thank you everyone for coming.” - Joe

Joe handed the mic back to his dad, and I struggled to try to hide the fact that my eyes were getting misty, so I discreetly wiped my eyes as I stood up. As they were leaving the stage, Joe and I made eye contact through the crowd, and he started making a B-line for me.

Just as I was meeting Joe in the middle of the floor, he was swept away by a couple of people on the Bengals staff, so I went to talk to Robin instead.

In the ten-minute conversation I had with Robin, she told me that the part of Joe’s speech where he mentioned/thanked me wasn't planned. He'd told her what he was going to say before they went up on stage, and I wasn't a part of it. Robin said he must've decided to say something in the moment, and to me, that made it sweeter.

After a few moments, I decided to go find Joe to tease him about his mention of me, and when I found him talking to a group of guys with his back to me. I tapped his shoulder, and he shrugged me off, continuing his sentence about how practice was going. I tapped him again, and he stopped his sentence with a sigh.

“I’m busy.” - Joe

Since he didn't turn around, I tapped him again. Sam was standing across from Joe, so he could see that it was me.

“Joe you should…” - Sam

“I’m talking!” - Joe

Joe had finally turned around, but the glare of the sun and his dark sunglasses prevented him from seeing who it was that had been previously tapping his shoulder. You didn't know that, though. He was frustrated, but I was taken aback when he yelled at me. In our almost ten years of dating, Joe had never fully yelled at me. He’d raised his voice slightly or carried an annoyed tone a couple of times before but never yelled.

I turned around in shock and sped off, speedwalking out of the tent and towards the parking lot. Maybe I was being dramatic, but I couldn't stop the tears from pricking in my eyes.

When Joe finally started his conversation back up, all of the guys were looking at him like he was crazy, and he didn't know why.

“What?” - Joe

“Did you see who that was?” - Sam

Joe shook his head no and explained that his vision was blocked by the glare of the sun, and all of the guys groaned, Sam even facepalming as Joe stood confused.

“That was y/n, Joe!” - Sam

All of the colors left Joe’s face when he realized he'd just yelled at me, and he immediately turned around to see where I went. He saw me walking down the end of the sidewalk, and just as Joe was about to run off sprinting, Sam grabbed his arm.

“Wait a little bit. Let her stew over what happened for a few moments before you go apologize your ass off.” - Sam

“I can't wait. I gotta tell her. Fuck.” - Joe

Sam let go of Joe’s arm, and he immediately ran after me. I had already made it inside the car, so he couldn't see me anymore, but Joe knew where I went.

I was sitting in the passenger seat of my car when I saw Joe through the window. He was probably coming to apologize, but I was kinda mad at him, so I opted to give him the silent treatment before he even started talking.

Joe tried to peak into the window, but the tint was too dark for him to see me, and I rolled my eyes when he opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat.

“Baby, maybe you should lock the door next time.” - Joe

I looked away from my steering wheel and narrowed my eyes at Joe’s soft smile before looking straight ahead through the windshield

“Okay, listen. I'm sorry. I didn't know that it was you tapping me, and when I finally turned around, there was a glare from the sun preventing me from seeing that it was you. If I had known it was you, I wouldn't have raised my voice. I'm so sorry, y/n.” - Joe

When I didn't answer, Joe started getting nervous. Were you actually mad at him? Joe thought.

“Baby?” - Joe

Once again, I ignored him, and Joe began to panic.

“I didn't know it was you! I would never yell at you. I swear. Are you- are you mad at me?” - Joe

Joe stared at me, completely taken aback because he was expecting me to forgive him once he explained and apologized. I’d never been mad at Joe before. There have been times when I've been super annoyed or slightly disappointed but never mad, and that's why Joe was internally freaking out. He knew my hormones were causing my emotions to constantly be x100, and Joe was worrying the worst.

“Answer me, please. You're scaring me.” - Joe

Nothing.

Joe sighed and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him in frustration. My gaze left the tree in front of me, and I watched Joe walk away as tears streamed down my face. I immediately regretted handling it the way I did, but I was afraid that Joe was mad at me now. My crying got harder when I thought of the possibility that Joe could be upset with me, and I ended up crying till I fell asleep.

I woke up to the feeling of my phone vibrating on my thigh, and I immediately furrowed my brows when I saw that the call was from Sam.

“Hello?” - you

“Hey… uhm. Joe’s walking around the golf course, and he's super messed up.” - Sam

“What do you mean?” - you

“He’s drunk and high as hell, y/n. He keeps babbling about how you're mad and won't talk to him.” - Sam

I hung up the phone right after Sam said that. Shouting profanity to myself as I opened my car door and stepped out.

After making my way to the crowd of Bengals players watching Joe stumble around while mumbling incoherently, I angrily yelled at all of them to fuck off if they weren't going to do anything but laugh and video. The looks on their faces as they walked away told me I was going to be the talk of the locker room next practice. I couldn't care less to be known as Burrow’s crazy wife, though.

Walking up to Joe, he stumbled a bit before standing up straight and putting his hands on my shoulders for stability. He smelled like alcohol, and his red eyes told me all I needed to know. He's insanely crossfaded.

“Joe. Hey, it’s me. It’s y/n.” - you

“You’re mad- mad at me.” - Joe

I wanted to kick myself for thinking about how adorable his slurred speech was because I was pissed at him right now.

“Joe, this isn't college anymore. We have kids, and you can't just get fucked up on a random Friday. I wasn't that mad before, but I'm mad now.” - you

Joe held his head down and wouldn't look at me. I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed and upset with himself or was annoyed that I was mad at him.

“I’m gonna call my parents and tell them that the boys will have to spend the night at their house tonight. You’re in no shape to be a father right now, and there's no way I can handle both of them and you, all while eight months pregnant.” - you

“I- I’m sorry… I just was scared that you wouldn't talk to me, and…” - Joe

“Just save it. I don't want to hear any excuses from you right now. Go find a corner to stand in or something before you do or say something stupid.” - you

After an embarrassing phone call with my parents, having to explain that my husband was both majorly drunk and high, I loaded Joe up into the passenger seat of my car and took him home. He’d pick his Porche up tomorrow when he was in better shape.

We had waited to leave until the event was officially over, and everyone was gone. Joe had done as I said and sat in a corner by himself, his eyes never once leaving me. His anxiety was raging now that he had heard me say in words that I was mad at him.

The car ride was silent the entire way home. Joe looked out the passenger window as I drove. I was fuming but decided not to take it out on him yet.

Once we were home, Joe tried his hardest to walk perfectly fine up the stairs. The last thing he wanted was for me to have to help him.

“You should go shower. I'll shower in the baby’s bathroom.” - you

“I’ll use hers. All your products are here.” - Joe

I could tell his head was somewhat clearing up, so I nodded, and Joe grabbed his stuff before exiting the bathroom.

My thoughts ran wild as I showered. It had been a while since I'd showered by myself, and my heart hurt a bit when I reached for my shampoo and had to wash my hair - something Joe usually does when we shower together.

It didn't take me long to finish up, so I slipped into a pair of panties and one of Joe’s old LSU shirts before crawling into bed.

Ten minutes later, there was no sign of Joe. He was usually quicker in the shower than me, so I was starting to get worried.

Before I could overthink too much, Joe walked into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water running down his muscular body. My eyes fixed on the many muscles in his back flexing when he turned around and got a pair of boxers from his clean clothes pile on the couch. He slipped them on under the towel before dropping it and putting it in the hamper.

Joe then walked over to the bed and grabbed his pillow, to my confusion. After watching Joe grab a throw blanket from the foot of the bed, I realized what he was doing. I let him walk to the doorframe before stopping him.

“Where are you going?” - you

“Living room, maybe my office. I'm probably not sleeping tonight so I’ll watch old game film or the TV.” - Joe

Joe was standing there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and waiting for me to say something.

“Come here.” - you

I caught Joe breaking a smile for a millisecond before he walked back over to the bed. Joe put his pillow back down and tossed the blanket to the side before sliding under the sheets.

Rolling onto my side, my body flushed when I saw Joe’s red eyes. You’re fucking kidding.

“What the hell, Joe?! Are you high again?” - you

Joe’s body stiffens up with embarrassment when he realizes what he has to admit.

“No, I’m not high.” - Joe

My mouth, which was open from disgust and shock, dropped closed when I realized why his eyes were red and why he'd been in the shower so long - Joe had been crying.

Joe’s eyes searched my face when he noticed that I realized his eyes were red from crying, and he started biting the skin off of his lip as a stress reaction.

“Oh.” - you

“I’m so sorry for everything. I don't know what I was thinking- I was scared, and I was already too in my head about football.” - Joe

He went on for a few minutes, babbling as his voice continued to break. I’d never seen him so worked up before, and I slowly realized this wasn't just about today. Joe took a break to sniffle, the dam of tears threatening to break. I pulled him into my arms, and Joe buried his head in my neck. My arms naturally went around him, and I cradled the back of his head to me.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Take a breath for me.” - you

It took him a while to calm down, but I rubbed his back and laid my cheek on his head the whole time. Once I felt Joe’s breathing get back to normal.

“You okay?” - you

I felt Joe nod his head in my neck, and I ran my fingers through the back of his wet hair.

“You wanna talk about it? I know this isn't just about today, Joe.” - Joe

I feel him sigh, and his hand wanders around till he finds the hand of mine that isn't occupied by playing with his hair to intertwine his fingers with mine.

“Football has been a lot, and I feel like there is a huge weight constantly on my shoulders. This season, I have to make a major comeback, and I'm scared it’s not gonna happen. Being at an event like that, where people are constantly asking questions about football, I'm reminded of it over and over. You’re my escape from it all, and to upset you is killing me. I didn't know it was you, and if I did, I wouldn't have yelled. I wasn't thinking, and after you ignored me when I was trying to apologize, I got super nervous. With football not going my way and my only major outlet not talking to me, I was freaking out. My only thought was to get wasted, so that's what I did. I took a couple of gummies and chugged a few vodka seltzers. I was hoping that it would take my mind off things, but it only made everything worse. I'm so fucking sorry, baby. I hope you'll forgive me, but I understand if you don't. I feel awful, and I was such a shitty everything today, a shitty friend, son, husband, and dad. I can't believe you had to send the kids away for a night because of me. I'm so mad at myself, and again, I'm so sorry.” - Joe

It took me a minute to process everything, but when I did, I couldn't stop tears from forming in my eyes. Seeing the love of your life hurting is awful, especially knowing you were one of the reasons for them hurting.

“First of all, you're doing amazing in football right now, and I trust you'll be just fine. You're the same man who came back from an awful knee injury and took your team to the Super Bowl. Secondly, I shouldn't have given you the silent treatment like I did. I believe you completely when you say you didn't know it was me, and I know you'd never yell at me like that. You're not a shitty everything, either. Just because you handled a situation badly doesn't define you as shitty. I think it’s good that the boys will be at my parents tonight, though. I think you need some one-on-one time with me, okay? Just talk to me, and I’ll listen. Don't bottle up anything, baby. Also, I can't believe you thought I’d want you to sleep on the couch. In your words, 90% of my heat at night comes from your body.” - you

Joe laughed a little at the last part of my response before cuddling closer to me. He threw a big arm over my bump and gently rubbed my belly with his hand. I heard him mumble something into my neck, but I couldn't quite understand anything he had said. After asking him to repeat himself, he pulled away from my neck and did just as I had asked.

“Do you accept my apology?” - Joe

“Of course, goofball.” - you

Joe’s body immediately relaxed, and it felt like he was melting into me. At the same time, he let out a breath that neither of us knew he was holding in. That's when it became apparent to me just how much Joe was scared I was mad at him.

“Jeez, Joey.” - you

“Sorry. I was kinda nervous you would say no if you couldn't tell, but I feel better now.” - Joe

“I’m sorry, too. I hope you know that no matter what, you will always be my person. Forbid that we ever have another argument, don't get so scared that you have to lean on alcohol and marijuana. Nothing could ever make me mad enough for you to react like that. I love you forever, Joe Lee.” - you

Joe pressed a few baby kisses on my neck before leaning up and hovering over me. We both leaned in and kissed each other for a few moments, knowing we hadn't kissed in a couple of hours.

“Thank you, lovey. The same goes for you, ya know - I love you forever, and you will always be my person.” - Joe

We just sat smiling at each other for a few moments until Joe rolled over onto his back and pulled me into his chest. My belly was leaning on top of his, and Joe reached over to spread a big hand out on it.

“I feel like I'm crushing you.” - you mumbled

“Girl, please. Do you know what the fuck I bench press?” - Joe

I laughed into his peck, getting lost in the feeling of him rubbing my back as we settled down. I was glad that Joe and I were ending the night on a good note. A few minutes later, the sounds of little snores filled the room, and Joe’s chest began rhythmically rising and falling. A smile formed on my lips as I gently rubbed my cheek against him, knowing that his current peaceful state would be interrupted when he woke up with a massive hangover.

At least I won't be the only grumpy and in pain one.

Authors note: This one got out of hand! 😂

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

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intimidating-fettuccine · 7 months ago

Note

Inbox is open! Let's see if my request is accepted 😅

So! Can I request Jane, Jeff, and Zalgo's reaction to their s/o burrowing their chest because "world hard and cold, titty soft and warm." This is with the assumption that they're comfortable with this level of physical affection.

Your request is accepted, and incredibly appreciated. I thrive on this stuff anon, thank you 🥺

Jane:

Jane has come to find this behavior of yours incredibly amusing. It's come to the point that when she sees you approaching her with any sort of sadness on your face she opens her arms wide and beckons you to her with a smile. She'll probably squish you into her chest real nice and tight with a laugh before relaxing back with you. I think she enjoys cuddling with you like that, laying on her side with your face smooshed up in her chest. She lays there with you, running one hand through your hair and the other doing comforting strokes up and down your back. She'll ask you if you want to talk about anything, and if you do (your voice muffled by the tits you have your face buried into) she listens attentively and responds in any helpful way that she can in an attempt to soothe your worries.

If you're not into talking about whatever is stressing you, she alternates between resting in silence with you, telling you stories about her days she hasn't shared yet, or maybe even humming or singing you a song as she holds you. With Jane's treatment, it's honestly damn hard not to fall asleep in her arms like that, and she'll stay in that position with you until you wake up, often falling asleep with you. Whenever you're feeling stressed she always tells you you're welcome to bury yourself in her chest, because sometimes all you need to feel better is a face full of soft tits, which makes you flustered and makes her laugh really hard. She might tease you for it every now and then, but it makes her just as happy and relaxed to have you snuggled up to her like that.

Jeff:

Jeff welcomes any sort of affection from you, especially if you're not feeling well, however, he was not prepared for what greeted him today. He'd just gotten home and had jogged up to greet you, his arms open for a hug, but he didn't know you'd just walk right up and shove your face into his chest, nuzzling into him. He chuckles but asks what you're doing, and when you say that special phrase, "world hard and cold, titty soft and warm", he can't help but burst out into loud laughter. His pecs are big enough that you can kind of move them around a little too when they're not flexed, so if you try and squish his pecs around or up to your face it makes him laugh even harder.

He's quick to scoop you up and carry you to bed, and he'll lay on his back with you resting on top of him and let you cuddle into him as much as you want to, however, you have to deal with him repeatedly gushing over how cute you are and teasing you for doing this in the first place, but he doesn't discourage it at all. If anything, he tells you it makes him happy he can bring you so much comfort, and he reminds you that if you ever need cuddle time all you have to do is ask. He'll keep you safe from the cold hard world and provide you with as much attention as you need. Really, he's just flustered from you doing that to him, and so incredibly happy to have a silly partner like you that makes him feel so loved and cherished. Will also probably tease you by asking you every now and then if you need "titty time" as he's started calling it.

Zalgo:

Often stuck in his office, you usually have to approach Zalgo to ask for snuggles, and of course, he always obliges you, happy to be able to get some physical affection despite his busy work life. When he asks what's troubling you, I would absolutely tell him the same phrase, because while it'll make Jeff/Jane laugh, it makes Zalgo SO confused. He just attributes it as a human thing, and hesitantly tells you, "You may cuddle up to my, uh... 'Tits' if you wish to, my love, if it would make you happy." Which is just about one of the funniest things you'll probably hear come out of his mouth, especially with how unconfident he sounds and the fact that he's clearly blushing, but he's just happy you find his love and affection so calming, especially considering his status as a demon.

You can crawl right into his lap while he works and smoosh your face into his chest, and he'll cradle you with one arm while he uses the other to continue doing his work. He'll probably carry out some small talk with you, happy to have a bit of extra time with you, and he'll ask you to tell him about all of the things you've been up to recently, cherishing moments like this. In fact, with how stressed you seem, he's probably likely to end work a little early so he can spoil you with a nice relaxing bath and some more cuddles in the privacy of your shared bedroom, so he can love on you and not have to worry about work at the same time. His chest is yours to cuddle up to whenever need be, so don't hesitate to ask him.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #jane the killer #jane the killer headcanons #jane the killer headcanon #jane the killer x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer headcanon #jeff the killer x reader #zalgo #zalgo headcanon #zalgo headcanons #zalgo x reader

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tipsynight0 · 3 months ago

Text

What remains of you// part two

Paring - Jeff the killer x female reader

Word count 1.2k

TRIGGER WARNINGS - suicide, self harm, death & decay, psychosis, violence, murder?

Summary - Jeff is struggling with the aftermath of (y/n) suicide attempt.

Author's note - ahhh!! Hello lovies. I honestly didn’t expect to have so much love on my last post and a lot of requests on part two. Thank you for all the support, my requests are always open <3 reminder if you feel this way, reach out for support.

The dripping of the faucet was constant, unyielding—a steady tap-tap-tap that burrowed into Jeff’s skull, gnawing at the last shreds of his sanity. He sat alone in his dim room, a cloud of smoke hanging thick around him, his bloodshot eyes locked on the night outside his window. Everything beyond it was lost in a heavy, swirling fog. Time had twisted itself into knots, and he couldn’t remember how many days had slipped by like this, blending one into the next. His mind was fraying, but there was one thing he was sure of: (y/n) was still here.

She had to be.

He could still feel her presence, sense her somewhere in the house, even if she was cold and silent, slipping around him like a shadow. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t look at him, or that her body was sometimes stiff when he tried to hold her. She was just… recovering. Healing from that night. He had saved her, hadn’t he? Pulled her from that bathtub, his hands covered in her blood as he whispered over and over, “You’re going to be okay. I’m here.”

But sometimes, late at night, he’d reach out to touch her, and she’d feel so cold, so rigid. Sometimes he’d lie beside her, whispering in her ear, begging her to say something, anything. And in those moments, a creeping fear would start clawing at his chest, but he’d push it down, refusing to let himself think about it. She was here. She had to be. She just needed time.

But his nightmares wouldn’t leave him alone. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her in that tub again, the water pooling around her, dark and red, her face slack and empty. The smell of blood filled his nose, thick and metallic, and he’d wake up gasping, his heart hammering in his chest. The image would stay with him, clinging to him like a sickness.

He had tried to find solace the only way he knew how. Each night, he’d go out, his knife glinting in his grip as he hunted for anyone who could distract him from the emptiness gnawing at his heart. But no matter how much he tore into them, how much he bled them dry, it wasn’t the same. He’d find himself cradling them, muttering, “Why did you leave me?” as though they were her, his mind slipping as he clutched them close, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. None of it filled the void. Nothing worked. He needed her.

One night, he came back home, stumbling through the door, his clothes stained with blood. The house was quiet, and as he kicked off his boots, he heard it—a faint sound, barely there. The trickle of water.

He froze, his breath catching. The bathroom. She was in there.

The hallway felt longer than ever as he staggered toward the bathroom door, his fingers gripping the handle with such force that his knuckles turned white. His mind reeled with flashes of her lying in that bathtub, her pale face tilted toward him, blood seeping into the water. Panic clawed at him, wild and relentless, but he forced himself to breathe. She was fine. She was just taking a bath.

He pounded on the door, his voice breaking as he called her name. “(Y/n)? What are you doing? Are you… are you okay in there?” Silence pressed back at him, thick and heavy. His chest tightened as he threw his shoulder against the door, once, twice, until it burst open.

She was there, slumped in the tub, her wrists under the flow of water, her skin pale as porcelain, veins like blue rivers beneath the surface. Red streaks trickled from her wrists, painting the water with dark, dizzying patterns.

“No… no,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he staggered forward, his arms reaching out. He fell to his knees beside the tub, pulling her into his arms, cradling her body against his. Her skin was so cold, so still, but her eyes fluttered open, just barely. He gasped, his heart pounding wildly with hope as he brushed a trembling hand over her cheek.

“You’re here. I knew you wouldn’t leave me,” he murmured, pressing his face into her hair, breathing in her scent. He could feel the damp chill of her skin seeping into him, but he ignored it, whispering, “You’re going to be okay. I’ll take care of you, like I always do.” His voice grew frantic, desperate, as he tried to warm her with his touch, his fingers trembling as he clung to her.

Slowly, he lifted her from the tub, carrying her to the bed. He laid her down gently, his hands shaking as he bandaged her wrists, his mind filling with a fierce, irrational hope. She was still here, and he would make her better. He had to. He sat beside her, running his fingers through her damp hair, his mind spiraling as he watched her face.

But something was wrong. Her skin was so pale, almost gray, her lips tinged blue, her limbs heavy and unyielding. A creeping coldness settled over him, but he pushed it away, refusing to see the truth staring back at him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice hollow. “You’re just… you’re just tired. You need to rest.” He leaned over her, his hands shaking as he stroked her cheek, his touch growing frantic as he tried to warm her lifeless skin. “You’re still here, with me. I know you are. You wouldn’t leave me.”

But as he stared down at her, he couldn’t ignore the vacant glassiness in her eyes, the way her skin had taken on an unnatural stillness. His stomach twisted, a sick dread settling over him, but he fought against it, his fingers brushing over her sewn lips, her expression frozen in a ghostly, silent scream.

“No… no, no, no!” he gasped, his voice cracking as he clutched her to him, burying his face in her shoulder, his mind spiraling as he clung to her still, cold form. “I saved you. I saved you! You’re still here. You’re… you’re…” But his words broke off as he felt her weight, the unmistakable stiffness beneath his touch, and the truth clawed its way through his delusion, ripping him open.

She wasn’t here. She hadn’t been here for a long time.

A broken, choked sob tore from his throat as he rocked back and forth, her cold body wrapped in his arms, his mind splintering under the weight of his realization. All this time, he had been talking to a memory, a shell. Every whisper, every touch had been a desperate illusion. His heart shattered, and he pressed his lips to her forehead, his voice a broken murmur.

“I’ll stay with you. I’ll never let you go.”

He laid her back down, tucking her carefully under the blankets, as if that could bring back her warmth. And as he curled beside her, his arms wrapped around her lifeless form, he felt his mind slipping, darkness closing in around him. His whispers faded into silence as he lay there “I’ll keep you safe”

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 year ago

Text

❝ just wanna be one of your toys, tonight❞

creepypasta x incubus!reader | drabble, how you meet, general dating headcanons | graphic descriptions of violence, descriptions of nsfw/smut | not proofread

warnings: yandere tendencies, unhealthy relationship habits but it's okay because everyone in this fic is unhinged, cannibalism with a sexual context, piquerism/knife kink, tentacles, teratophilia, pheromones used by r!, canon violence, LJ's section alludes to r! mutilating a p*de,Slenderman controls r!s food intake (?), guys this is kind of messed up pls

Eyeless Jack | Jeff The Killer | Laughing Jack | Slenderman | Toby Rogers

req: OMG. creepypasta fics. i love them. can you uhmmm. can you write headcanons for an incubus reader. with like eyeless jack, toby, masky and hoodie? ignore this if you dont do that sorta stuff im just jumping on a request train rn ghnjgjkejnjngf

authors note: unfortunately, I'm not super informed about the Marble Hornet boys so I did not include them ;'3 Also I did want to do the typical sexy incubi reader but then I didn't so enjoy demonic, somewhat feral, reader and his equally as fucked up lovers

Eyeless Jack —

There was silence when you first laid your eyes on him. As you're both demons who preyed on humans, it was akin to throwing two hungry wolves into a fighting ring.

Your prey, emphasis on yours, had been yours for damn near a week. You've been sneaking into their dreams, draining them of slivers of their essence by bringing them to climax in their wildest dreams. They would grin brightly the first few times but as the week progressed, they began realizing how exhausted they felt and those sexy wet dreams suddenly felt more morbid than exciting.

So your lips curl as you hunch over their head and bare your mouth full of fangs. Your hiss sounds like nails on a chalkboard and your jaw unhinging more than humanely possible as your forked tongue drips with viscous liquid. Jack steps back, his scalpel glinting in the moonlight as he returns the hiss with a gravelly snarl.

Oh, people think of "Sex on Legs" of a man when they imagine an incubus. That's the aim of your pheromones and magic after all. Everyone's ideal of a masculine body is what you morph into. Muscular, fat, hairy, clean-shaven, short or tall; whatever their genitals desire is what you distort their brain into seeing.

Your true form was a whole other story. You were a demon. It didn't matter if you were once human or if you were born in Hell itself. You were different now.

"They are mine," Your lips twitch and curl with every syllable. Fingers digging deeper into the skull of your prey. You don't know this demon's name and you're unsure of how strong he truly is but you dig your heels into the ground.

Jack pauses. His growling ceases as he loosens and tightens his grip on his scalpel.

He's had his run-ins with others "like" him. Eldritch beings, proxies of eldritch beings, and such others. However, incubi was new for him. He half-expected a stout creature with leathery wings and horns like those illustrations in the yellow pages of demonology books.

"...What do you need from them?" He wants to bargain. He doesn't have to but he does anyway. Partly from curiosity and partly from his own hunger...for you.

He wonders what you taste like. Jack wouldn't admit it then but he licked his needle-sharp fangs at the thought of your flesh in his mouth and your blood flowing down his throat like the most decadent wine.

"Soul," you answer as a sickening crunch resounds through the room just as your index finger burrows deeper, "Their brain, need".

"Good, I don't need that." Jack points the sharp end of his scalpel to his stomach. "Here, everything I need is here," he then aims his weapon at you with a loose grip; "Share, yes?"

Your lips hide your fangs and you tilt your head, swaying your head as you try to weigh the options. Other demons could be rather tricky. Sharing wasn't in most of their vocabulary. However, this one was...different.

"Share, yes".

That is how the two of you met. His masked visage and the tar-like substance that escapes from his humanoid eye sockets intrigue you. You had watched him cut open your prey with medical precision so he could carefully remove the organ he craved.

"Name is...?" Jack's pointed ears twitch from beneath his hoodie. He turns his head towards yours and if he were human he might have flinched from the way your nose brushes the bump of his mask. But he isn't, so he doesn't.

"Jack. My name is Jack," he brings one leathery hand to rest upon your cheek. It stains your skin and Jack's thumb rests precariously close to your lower lash line. The silence is a prompt for you to continue and you whisper your name, chewing on your lower lip after which makes Jack scoff in mild amusement.

Your relationship initially begins due to Jack's desire. He craves you in such a visceral way he doesn't know what to do with it anymore. It pains him that he doesn't sleep because he is certain that the number of times he's unravelled at the thought of you should already beckon you into his brain. But Jack isn't a human.

He's a demon. So, he decides to use victims to lure you. He wasn't sure how to go on about it at first but after tilting his head down at the moaning woman writhing in her bed, whispering your name, he takes her to his home.

When you visit your prey's dreams it's plagued with images of the eyeless demon and once you manifest into thin air he wastes no time pinning you to the wall with his inhuman strength.

"Jack!" you snarl in alarm and he releases you, smiling. His blue mask was placed elsewhere, instead, he hid his eyes behind tattered bandages. His teeth were so sharp you felt yourself tense.

You become something akin to a pet. Jack learns how to keep you captive in his home, locked behind bars and ancient runes written in blood. Despite the lack of freedom, you couldn't say he doesn't spoil you.

He brings you his victims. Dazed from whatever supernatural effect he has and sore from his impromptu surgery. They always scramble in alarm, panicked and disorientated before they spot you.

Then, Jack relishes in your vicious lunges. Watches from the outside as you crush their skulls open to fill your stomach.

When he eventually makes you trust him enough (Stockholm Syndrome is one beautiful side effect) he brings you to hunts with him. You're the shadow that hangs upside down from the ceiling when his victims wake up and shake, paralyzed as Jack digs through their layers of skin, muscles and fat. Your grin is hauntingly ethereal and inhuman as you lean down to kiss their trembling lips.

Jack wonders if you smell his desire. You do. But it's normal. Your pheromones were meant to attract sexual partners after all but your gaze does linger on Jack the more the scent of charred earth burns whenever you're pressed to his back.

"Teasing me?" He would mutter. Silence would be his reply and all he'd feel is your supple skin brushing on his ashen grey skin, nosing insistently to his neck. "I know you can talk (Y/N)" his needle and thread continue threading through the patchwork of skin.

"Why won't you touch me?" that makes him freeze. Jack had thought about it. Every time he saw you kiss your victims, or rip them to shreds. You were fire dancing in the wind and Jack can't justify his need to own you but he doesn't care.

"Because if I touch you, I won't be able to stop"

"Who said I'd want you to stop?"

Jack tugs on the blood-soaked thread. It glints in the harsh lighting of his desk lamp, briefly looking like a sliver of light.

"I'll sink my teeth into you, tear you apart and consume you".

His head turns as you grab his chin. His bandages tugged away and you chuckled as you saw the ugly gored-out holes. He hasn't told you the whole story but you know what scars he did have were all human-made.

"You can take my flesh if you want, Jack".

The thread snaps.

Jack belatedly realises that since you were not human either, your resistance to pain was just as crazy as your regenerative abilities. He takes you in a way that feels genuinely primal. Two animals going at it, blood smeared along the floors and walls while claws and fangs puncture into flesh.

You two give sex a whole new meaning. Jack finishes inside of you as he laps up at the gash on your neck, groaning as his dexterous tongues (yes, tongues) feel your pulsing veins dancing on them. You encourage his ferocity with saccharine sweet calls of his name.

Sometimes, as silly as it sounds, you make him feel human again. He swears the shrivelled thing in his dusty ribcage beats thunderously whenever you dig your fingers into the back of his thighs.

You were a never-ending feast. A banquet he will never tire from. The cell he kept you in wasn't in use anymore but he swears if you ever even think of going away from his side he would keep you in there until the sun exploded.

There'll eventually be a balance in your relationship. Once you gain his trust, you might as well carve out his insides to nestle between his blackened bones and allow his tar-like blood to keep you warm. He'll do whatever it takes to ensure no one, human or non-human, will keep you apart.

He thinks it is absolutely healthy if you return the sentiment.

Jack doesn't stray from you. He is devoted. The type of person to ensure you're always full, from his essence or from others, he will provide whatever you need.

Close-promixity. He doesn't have to be touching you, just wants you near.

Will bite you. Hard. Not in a cute nibbling way. Legitimately bites you to sustain himself and thinks it's romantic that you're inside of him.

He is more human than you at times. He enjoys human comforts. The internet, a bed, a shower. He doesn't need it, you're both demons after all. But they're a luxury that he treasures.

If "others" wander into your territory, Jack's growls turn spine-chilling. A chittering, gravelly, snarl that heightens in volume as he curls his lips. He'll unmask, scalpel forgotten as veins bulge into the back of his hands and his footsteps suddenly get heavier. The one time someone had stumbled on you while you were feeding, you swore you saw wisps of black smoke smoulder from Jack's skin and the faint sound of fire crackling.

Miiight be the most protective one of the bunch.

You having sex with your prey does not bother Jack. Your sex with him is much more solidifying, oath-binding and skin-scarring. Besides, he knows you need actual souls to be sustained.

Jack's not sure how long he will be "alive" but if he's dying you're coming with him, (Y/N). He would burn the world down for you but death won't keep you apart.

Jeffery Woods, Jeff the Killer —

"What. The. Fuck?" Jeff's damaged facial muscles could barely twitch or tug on his cheeks due to his insane self-mutilation, however, he manages to furrow his brows hard enough that he feels his cheekbones spasm as they attempt to frown.

The married couple he had been stalking laid dead on their mahogany bed and there was some sort of freak over them.

Your eyes were almost as wide as his as you slip three of your fingers into your bloody mouth, sucking them clean with an obscene sigh of satisfaction.

"Too...late," Jeff's "nose" burns as he surges forward. His boots track mud and water across the bedroom and your grin is maniacal as he unsheathes his hunting knife from his hip.

"You fucking bitch!"

Truth be told, you spotted Jeff during one of your nightly visits to the husband's dreams. His white outfit contrasts so sharply in the dark it almost seems haughty. A little "look at me"-sy if you could put it into words.

Jeff brandishes his hunting knife and you twist out of the way to instead latch onto the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes earn a pleasant shiver that spreads warmth to the thing between your crotch.

He was goddamn grotesque. Skin leathery, eyes so painfully dry and irritated it rimmed red and that cut-up smile? His yellow teeth and red gums are splashes of colour since they're no longer hidden by his cheeks. His jet-black hair whips furiously against his face as one hand reaches up to grab your ankle.

Your yell is more of a screech and Jeff wrestles you on the body of the wife. Her bones and nipple piercings dig into your back as Jeff digs his knife into your shoulder.

"They were fucking mine! You goddamn cunt! Stupid little bitch!" he's more robust than a regular human. Then again, a regular human would've died from his "cosmetic" surgeries a while ago.

You can still his heartbeat in his chest though. Slow but there.

He pulls the knife out and you exclaim once he stabs you once again. The toothy edge of the blade was meant to inflict pain every time he pulled out and Jeff's cheeks lifted into a gleeful expression as he watched you writhe in pain.

But then.

"Mom?" Jeff locks up. You turn your head to the shadow under the door but Jeff puts the knife to your eye and your snarling lowers into a hissing.

Jeff does not hurt kids. The way he stares down at you with stormy grey blues shows that though he has no idea how to slaughter you he will try to if you even think of laying a hand on her. Much to his relief, you close your eyes and go lax.

You don't hurt kids either.

"Momma?" The doorknob shakes and Jeff knows the kid probably smells iron but the two of you are as rigid as the corpses on the bed.

"Did you need something, Kavi?" The voice that comes out your lips isn't yours, it's the father's and Jeff only loosens his grip from surprise. Kavi's feet shuffle nervously and whatever stuffy she's holding squeaks lightly in pressure. "I heard noises...screaming" She hears the smile in your voice as you tell her to go back to bed.

"But-"

"Go to sleep, Kavi" This time it's a command and Kavi's shadow straightens up before her footsteps fade away.

Jeff's breathing had slowed throughout the interaction. He's good at being quiet when he needs to be. Not so flashy when the situation calls for it. A soft spot for children. How noble.

He presses on your chest with the heel of his palm but then gets up and sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. You turn onto your stomach, pushing the husband onto the floor as you watch Jeff glare at you with contempt as he paces.

"I've been watching them", Your eye roll makes him grunt. "I know, I saw. But, he's mine" He huffs at the sight of the twitching body on the floor. "Could've left me the wife, asshole" Jeff follows the trail of blood down your chest and stomach before ripping his eyes away as you pluck her eyes out to pop into your mouth.

Jeff swears he's never been harder.

"I was hungry".

Your grin like the cat that got the cream when Jeff rushes towards you and grabs the column of your neck to push you down.

For a guy who hasn't gotten laid, ever, he sure knew what to do. You helped, obviously. When Jeff's fingers tremble and hover you would goad him to do better, huff that you're getting bored and he needs to fuck your hole/s with more passion. That'd get that freak going.

He sure was in love with his knives too. Obsessed with the way you shiver and shudder every time the blade cuts into your skin or when he digs the tip of it in and you arch into the edge.

Jeff thinks his first time suits him. His life is fucked up in all sorts of ways so of course, his first time was with a demon. He remembers you bouncing on his lap, eyes glowing as you squeeze his dick and moan his name before he saw white.

When he wakes up, he shoots up straight and throws the rag away from his face. The bodies are stiff now and Kavi's older sister is pulling into the driveway. He wears his clothes and isn't quiet about it as he hears Kavi crying about nightmares while she rushes out.

Jeff's DNA being all-over the crime scene is something he does not give a shit about. What are the police going to do? Arrest a dead man? Hah! They'd need to catch him first and he's been dodging them since he was 13 years old and he's 24 now. They're shit at their job.

That one night spirals into Jeff fucking into his fists for a week straight. Unable to properly think without your whispers breezing past his ears in the wind. He's already insane but you've turned the broken notch higher.

Thankfully for him, you're just as hopeless. He isn't quite sure how long you've been stalking him but when he finally senses eyes on him he's excited because he knows it's you.

Your relationship is physical at first. Love isn't quite in either of your vocabulary but this relationship turns something close to it. He whispers your name in the wind and then he feels your weight on his back as your arms materialize from thin air and squeeze him.

"What do you need, executioner?" Jeff snorts at the title, shrugging you away as he unbuckles his belt and pushes the hanging body as he passes it. Jeff sits on the desk and pats his thighs.

"The fuck kind of name is that?" You cage him between your arms and lean in to lick the scratches near his eye.

"You don't like it?"

"I ain't no one's fucking executioner"

You roll your eyes and he clicks his tongue at it. "The fuck's that for?" You're still not sure what the fuck Jeff is, for all intents and purposes he's just something in limbo. Dead but not quite. Alive but not quite. But his ego is still that of a man and you're in your own purgatory as you decide if you enjoy it or not.

When Jeff realises he does care for you, it's a strange time for him. He won't ask if you've eaten or if you're hurt because suddenly he knows just from a glance. It's frightening to him. He doesn't call for you for a long time and he grits his teeth as you don't come for him either.

Stuck in-between again. He's relieved but he's angry. He's furious but sad. Are you alright? Do you hate him? Do you not care for him? How dare you!? But, also, great! He doesn't have time to be anything more! But how dare you? Do you not realise how much he cares about you!?

When Jeff finds out it's because some idiots in a cult managed to trap you?

He feels numb as he prepares to absolutely destroy them. With a one-track mind, he kicks open the doors of their stupid, dilapidated doors and lays waste on whoever isn't you. He burns their church down. His senses only rush back towards him when he has you in his arms.

That night, he's tender and sweet. It disturbs you a bit but you preen under his hands as he watches you heal your wounds in your own demonic ways.

"You came for me"

"...I'm your executioner, aren't I?"

Don't expect labels from Jeff but he does expect commitment to an extent. He won't be angry if you fuck around but he will fuck you harder if you mention that flesh bag being good.

He's bad at talking but once you manage to pry his mouth open he can be insightful about certain things. He's an observant man just so fucking egotistical.

You are his and he's yours but don't mention it too many times, he can get spooked. Did you expect stability from Jeff? Good, because you aren't getting it.

He wants you to participate in his kills. It's a great bonding activity! He is glad he has you as his buddy/lover. At least one person in this hell-forsaken world cares for him.

This does mean he can get a bit clingy at times, maybe even bordering on obsessed, but he doesn't give a shit. Even if you are a demon from hell, Jeff will find a way to find you.

Carved his name into you. No questions about it.

It will take years before he even says anything close to an "I love you" but he says in his own ways. He's tightlipped about you when his enemies catch up to him and if he feels that you're even a bit threatened he will fight tooth and nail until you're safe.

Jeff knows he's the last person that deserves a wish to be granted but he squeezes you tighter in his arms when he thinks of growing older. He's scared of dying, always has been, but the thought of leaving you alone/being without you? It terrifies him.

When his hair starts getting more salt and peppery he gets quite grumpy every time you mention it. He does soften when he notices you "ageing" as well - he knows you aren't and it's just your shapeshifting but he swears he'll do anything to stay by your side for as long as he can.

Laughing Jack —

Oh, he was familiar with your kind. Laughing Jack mainly targets families but he's been terrorizing the world since the 1800's, he knows the vices of men. He shoos them away (which is a nice way of saying he disembowels them if they get territorial over their prey).

What he didn't expect was to see you panting raggedly with your chin dripping with blood and pieces of what once was a man under your claws.

Laughing Jack's eyes shoot towards the child he had been "befriending". He knew he was suffering and Laughing Jack truly did not care — he wanted to have fun mutilating the entirety of his family and was only here because he wanted to visit his "friend".

The hair on the back of your neck pricks and your jaw unhinges as your eyes land on the lanky being.

You know of him too. This entity that was once brought to earth to help a lonely child turned into a demonic entity that relished in the pain of humans.

You're also aware he has an affinity to target children to bring back to his circus of horrors under the guise of "saving them" and even though you're a creature of hell, you stand in front of the cowering boy with your teeth on display.

"This is new", Laughing Jack giggles out. His claws curled in front of his mouth as he stalked forward. Oh, he knows why little Carl wanted to run away from home. His mother did a shit job at protecting him from his drunk stepfather and Jack was going to do just that.

He was going to let Carl run away. Never said Carl would be alive when he did. But Carl never asked.

"Usually you whores are busy with the adults, not the kids". The very implications of what he said have you snapping your teeth. He raises his hands in faux surrender with a mocking grin.

"Gone soft? Who were you here for?"

Your lips twitch and Jack pauses just as he's about to step out of the shadows. Carl's weeping and sniffling echoed in the room. Jack's plastered smile turns sour as seconds tick by.

You know better than to anger him. So you will yourself to speak: "His mother". Jack bounces back like nothing had happened and gleefully strides over into the light.

"J-Jack? Jack!" "Carl!" Your hand shoots out to grab at the boy but he rushes into Jack's claws and sobs freely into his chest as Jack shushes and cradles him. Jack gingerly plucks the stretched-out shirt back over Carl's shoulder and rubs his back.

"Then you can go!" Jack cheers as he cradles Carl. "Go, go! Go and get that bitch of a woman!" You march up to him and grow taller tower over him. Jack's neck cranes to meet your eyes and he swears his neck creaks. He's never had to look up at anyone before.

"The boy isn't yours!" Jack's claws envelope Carl's head as the boy covers his ears. "Protective? Your kind usually has a one-track mind, never known demons to have sympathy", Jack's eyes squish into crescent moons.

"Have you gone soft, demon?"

Carl isn't sure what happens next. He just knows that when he wakes up the next day, he isn't scared and his mom isn't there. Instead, there's you. He isn't scared of you, he trusts you and he knows that you're his older brother.

He goes to school with you by his side and when he comes back, you've made food for him. Carl doesn't know where all the money comes from or why there are foggy memories of horror when he stares into space but your voice always snaps him back to reality.

Carl doesn't know where you go off to at night but he knows he isn't scared because Laughing Jack always pops up in the house.

Carl doesn't know how lucky he is, not really, but as he grows old he does feel gratitude. He doesn't know nor care why you're not his brother on papers or that his mom isn't in the picture. He knows he loves you though.

And he likes Laughing Jack too. Even if he's scary sometimes.

"Honey! You're home!" You glare at Jack as you step into the kitchen, wiping blood from your chin as you shed your jacket and your human skin. Jack looks comically out of place. He waits for you to shed before he gathers you in his arms.

This arrangement was odd. Out of place. But you learned not to hate it. Maybe Laughing Jack was right, maybe you were getting soft but you were glad that Carl was safe. Even if you had to pretend to be his older brother and then deal with Laughing Jack at night.

He sways with you in the kitchen, humming an old tune and you groan as your shape settles. He grins as he runs his claws down your back then holds you firmly.

Jack wasn't interested in sex and you were okay with that. He just wants to hold you like this, an affection growing within him as he inhales your scent.

"Carl's at a sleepover, must be having fun", Jack twirls you and you allow it with a ghost of a smile. "If he was at my circus, the streamers would be intestines and the snacks! Oh, the snacks, (Y/N) Darling!" Your lips cover his and his brow raises as he returns the kiss.

"Carl's fine with regular streamers, Jack. He's human, let him remain as one", Jack's smile almost seems sincere as he looks up at you. "Speaking of humans, (Y/N) Dearest", Jack thwacks a roll of newspaper on your chest.

"Humans are getting scared of you, rabid incubus, and Carl's mysterious older brother isn't holding up! You need to scram", You sigh deeply as you pull away. Jack chases to cling to your back.

"He'll miss his friends"

"I'll bring them to my circus! He'll always see them whenever he wants!"

"You're not saying no", Jack purrs and cackles after you close your eyes and nod. He didn't really need permission but you appreciate him asking either way. Besides, he had a point! Carl could play with them whenever he wishes to so he won't be too sad.

Your relationship with Laughing Jack might be the most curious one out of everyone else. Carl made you more human than you'd like to admit and you made Laughing Jack more colourful (on the inside) than he'd ever tell.

He doesn't love Carl. Cares for, sure. He doesn't love you. But he wants your affections, that much he knows.

He brings you gifts, some of your real food, toys and all sorts. Even some for Carl because he knows you like it when he does it. Jack becomes a sort of family guardian. Anyone who tries to harm Carl doesn't just have you to worry about, Laughing Jack's looming over your shoulder too.

You share kisses, hugs and hand holdings if he's being annoying about it but both of you know Laughing Jack prefers not to go below the belt. He prefers that you seek physical pleasure elsewhere. He claps with glee every time you toss him the body, turning the corpse into a new throne or cake or whatever he wishes.

When Carl grows old and moves out, he knows that the porch light will always be on for him. He knows his "older brother" isn't human but he doesn't care. He also knows Laughing Jack isn't just his imagination but he doesn't care. Carl knows you're family and that's all that matters.

You tend to the house at times but after Carl moves out, Jack all but whisks you away into his circus. The spirits of dead children crowd around you, sharing an affection towards you due to Laughing Jack's own emotions. You tolerate them enough but spend most of your time with your Jack.

Laughing Jack doesn't know if he'd die for you, he doesn't even know if he's able to die really, but he would slaughter millions if it meant that you'd be content.

"Do you love me, (Y/N) Darling?" Laughing Jack tickles your side, giggling as you swat his hands away. You turn to face him and he relaxes in your hold, minutely but you still feel the way his muscles unbind.

"Do you love me, Jack Dearest?" His eyes soften and you swear you see the way baby blue bleeds into the monotone grey.

"I do, I love you more than I'd like to admit".

Slenderman —

Your head tilted at the shape in the trees. The person beneath you twitched and rattled out a groan as they clung to the little bits of life they still had. A quick snatch and grab of more of their brains puts an end to it rather quickly.

Swivelling your head you gaze at the drawings on their walls. Among the illustrations of the forest views that they drew and the maps, you note the odd scribbles.

This prey had odd dreams at times. Some nights, you find yourself fighting against a force just to invade their thoughts but you think of it as nothing but their own will. Some humans had quite a resistance to your kind.

You squint at the marker drawings, getting up from the bed to walk closer. Plucking the note that peeked from under the map only to gasp as the map fell onto your feet. It revealed more deranged scribblings and your stomach twisted into knots as you realised what entity your prey had been hunted by.

Your breath shudders and you take a step back only to stiffen as a cold wind whispers up your spine.

"Forgive me!" You kneel, bowing your head as you stare at the wooden floors in fear. This being - it was the very thing that crawled out of Hell. It was older than most if not everything that roamed this earth and you had taken its prey.

The crackling of trees makes tears brim your eyes. It sounds thunderous and it only grows louder. You force your eyes shut as the branches drag along the glass windows and you plead under your breath as you feel Him getting closer and closer.

When he speaks, your brain feels as though it's being pulled apart. Was this punishment from your past victims? You're struggling to understand what he says but his voice soothes into something tangible.

"Wha...What?" You lift your head and turn to face the empty, open, window.

"Come".

Slenderman was intimidating even for an incubus like yourself. As he towers over you, you feel your prey climb up out of your throat. But then, then, his spindly fingers stroke the side of your face.

"Please me, incubus", his tendrils sway in the wind and they lower and slither through the dead leaves to curl around your ankles and thighs.

His "suit" pulses and throbs, particularly between his legs and you see the slit glistening with wetness, white cockheads poking out.

Oh.

Well. Who were you to say no?

Slenderman doesn't speak in a language familiar to humans, it brings some semblance of comfort to you; his words and expressions are more archaic but it's undoubtedly the language of hellish creatures like yourselves.

His cocks are just as inhuman and long as everything else about him and those tendrils that sprout from his back? Oh, they make the best restraints. The barely there scales on them shudder every time he's close to an orgasm and since they're so close to you, the rattling of it makes you whimper in pleasure.

Slenderman allows you to go but he keeps his eyes on you.

The way you kill and tear into humans, the pleasure you take in it - you're nothing but an incubus but Slenderman wants you.

And like his other "toys" he is merciless in making you just his.

You're not allowed to hunt anyone other than the ones he tells you to. Not allowed to even think of craving anyone. You're his incubus and his alone.

Who are you to say no?

It wasn't all that bad. Sometimes, he would push the limits of your hunger if he wanted to "test" the prey but you were obedient to his whims.

Sometimes, he'd crawl into your mind to truly see if you were all his and though painful and vomit-inducing the rewards after were enough to make it worth it.

After all, compared to the rest of his toys, you were the most pampered.

"Master", a purring noise is all around you but with your sight taken from you (a feat that only a few beings could do). The only thing you can do to locate Slenderman is through touch. But the thing is, he's touching you every-fucking-where.

You were suspended in the air, legs spread with tendrils and arms bound to your back as your cloudy eyes stared aimlessly at the night sky.

"Patience, incubus"

Love is hard to pinpoint in this relationship. It's more of an endearment. His feelings for you were the same feeling as someone would feel towards a dog. If you disobeyed and bit him, he'd put you down no question - that much you knew.

He doesn't mind when you kill other incubus or succubi though. Not that he seeks them with the same intent he had with you, he is a bit addicted to you, he seeks them with the intent to make you jealous.

He knows you had feelings for him. Depends on him. His word was law.

He likes seeing his dog get jealous. He doesn't assist in your fights with the other demon, you have to be the strongest to be his and so he merely watches and rewards you once you win.

The one time you lost though? Oh, he was so disappointed, (Y/N). The incubus stood over you, clutching the stump of an arm as he hisses at you. You know he is about to rip your throat and you kick your legs as he kneels over you.

He grabs your chin and forces your head to be tilted up, exposing your neck. You were going to die, you were going to die!

"You're pathetic, pet", the incubus over you chokes, blood spurting out from the hole in his chest before he all but crumbles into dust. One of your eyes is swollen shut, bruised and bleeding all over and Slenderman cradles you in his arms as he helps you stand.

"I'm sorry, Master" Your tears are wiped away. His tendrils lift you into the air and close to his chest as you weep.

"You'd be dead without me, pet. Completely useless".

Toby Erin Rogers —

"...Get out of the fucking way" Toby had the coldest eyes you've ever seen. He had been tasked to kill the man whose skull was being split open by your hands.

He must think Toby was here to save him because he swipes a hand towards him, groaning desperately as his eyes shake. Toby's nose scrunches up in distaste. The man looked like a goddamn pug. His eyes bulged out and gaping his mouth like a dead fish.

"He's my kill". You furrow your brows as you stubbornly dig your thumbs deeper into the crack of his skull.

"Oops".

Toby throws a hatchet and it slices through your shoulder, pinning you to the wall from the strength he used. You claw at the handle, kicking your feet to try and push yourself from the wall but Toby simply ignores you to slash the man's throat with with his other hatchet.

"You asshole! He's mine!" Your thrashing makes him grunt as he slams his hand on your other shoulder. He grabs the hilt of his weapon and squints his eyes at you.

"S-Shut the fuck up, cunt. You can still eat the bitch, shithead", Toby isn't nice about tugging his weapon out. His brows furrowed at the sight of your torn flesh.

Toby has seen it all. After meeting a monochrome clown and a burned woman with a mask hunting for a guy named Jeff, among other creatures, Toby is unphased at the sight of a demon.

This means the already cold, unfeeling, man was not at all impressed. His eyes wander to your chest and your legs but scoffs as he cleans the edge of his hatchet on his sleeves.

"You asshole!" Toby waves his hand nonchalantly as he retreats. His plan is foiled as you latch onto his back, teeth sinking through his clothes and into the protective pads. Reaching back, his gloved hands grasp onto you to throw you across the room. The desk lamp shatters onto the floor as you lay out on the surface.

Toby rolls both his shoulders, sniffing in annoyance as he picks at the deep marks on the plastic of his protective wear. "Shit, your teeth suh-suh-sunk...through" his eyes glower as you peel yourself from the office table.

"Now, you're just ask, asking for it".

After that rough night, you stayed away from ever-crossing paths with Slenderman and his stupid proxies. Even with your supernatural regenerative healing, he slashed so deep at one point you're certain he had his hatchets go through you.

Your body ached for days. Not in a sexy way.

Toby, however, found it hard to get you out of his head. He knows an incubus' pheromones linger when they experience intense emotions and subsequently, so do its effects. But after 2 months of aching for you, he has had enough.

He takes a while to track you down. He's only human at the end of the day but when he finds your prey he reenacts the first time you met.

"You," venom was dripping from your words as you hissed at him but Toby simply raised from the armchair in the corner. The office of the poor psychotherapist you hunted reminded him of his childhood so he gladly focuses on your figure to focus.

He pays close attention to the way you get into the defensive, climbing the desk to put distance as you show him your fangs.

"I've got a pro, proposition for you" Toby walks towards the closet and to your surprise, your prey is tied up like a goddamn turkey. He falls flat on his face, breaking his nose, and squirms as muffled pleas come from him.

"You don't have to waste days making your prey succumb to you. I'll wrap them up...luh-like a fuuucking present and...you can munch on 'em"

"...In exchange?" You can't tell if he's smiling. But you hear it in his voice as he says:

"Fuck me".

For Toby, you provide relief and comfort. The beginning of the relationship was tough waters to navigate through, mainly for you. Despite providing you with food when he craves some physical intimacy, Toby is one scary motherfucker to be bare of clothes with.

It's a feat considering who was the demon in the relationship here.

Toby keeps his mouthguard on. For a whole 2 years, he never once took it off. By the time he does though? His eyes are closed and he's muttering for something to leave him alone. His anxiety crept up on him as he stared at the popcorn ceiling of the motel he had chosen for that night.

"Toby" his hand trembles and not because you're deep inside of him. His scarred chest falls and raises in rapid motions and you're aware that he needs to breathe. So, despite his heart-clenching whimpers you tear his hands away from his face to pull his mouthguard off.

"No!" Toby tries to cover the scar on his cheek. You shush him and pull out, carefully arranging your limbs so he can wrap his arms around you.

That night ended sourly. He shoves you away and dresses in a rush.

When he reaches out for you again, you don't pry. You've grown soft for the man but know he isn't exactly the touchy-feely type. Toby wonders if you're thinking of his face as he plows into you and his thoughts are so loud he has the audacity to grow flaccid.

As an incubus? That was a first for you.

"...Ugly mug, huh?" You eye him as you suckle on his cockhead. Now? He was going to talk about that night, now? Okay. Sure.

"No, I like your face" Toby grunts, clearly not believing you. "Just sayin' that 'cuz my dicks in your face". Well, at least he is aware of the timing too.

He exclaims as you push him down on the bed and straddle him.

"I like your stupid face, Toby. I like your stupid fucking voice, your body, your sarcasm and your shitty personality. Is that so hard to believe?"

This relationship turns warmer after this night. He throws extra snacks your way and he appreciates it when you help him with stitching himself up from his "assignments".

When his paranoia and anxiety get the best of him, he finds it...nice...that he doesn't have to ice out his emotions anymore. He feels so human.

Toby is aware you're fully capable of handling your own affairs and so, he doesn't interfere. He's terrified of the Slenderman and even growing slightly curious about you too. It's a tough balance for Toby - it's not like Slenderman cares about work-life-balance.

So, don't expect to spend cosy days spent together somewhere sweet. Your version of date nights will be following him along on his missions or him watching you hunt and then spending hours together in the victim's home.

It brings Toby comfort. You're not human but the way you move through the house with him, it reminds him of simpler times; a past he no longer remembers but knows he cherishes. He thinks about the two of them being a domestic couple a lot.

"Remembering?" Toby says nothing as he kisses the nape of your neck. The two of you had washed up in the shower and the victims were neatly displayed in the living room with symbols all over the room. You two had all night to just...be.

"Never got muh-my memories back then, not...gonna get 'em now" He pulls away to grab the bottle of wine from you. When he settles on the office couch, you drop onto his lap with a plate of sandwiches.

He groans as you teasingly try to feed him but soon relents. He feels a bit ashamed as he struggles to eat "normally" with the open gash on his cheek but as he peeks at your expression he sees nothing but love.

So, Toby squeezes you closer and you say nothing as he allows you to care for him.

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