#elle’s blurbs!

[ellecdc]

can i request a poly!marauders where the reader just tends to wonder off, like she’s suspended to be in class but she just talking to one of the portraits or just outside staring at the sky and sometimes james and/or sirius follow her so remus has to round them up

so stinkin' cute - thanks for your request lovie!

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through some of my older requests~

poly!marauders x fem whimsical!reader

“I don’t mean to alarm you boys,” Marlene started, not looking at all concerned about alarming them in the slightest. “But I think you might be missing a member of your group.”

Sirius and James looked to each other in horror as Remus let out an exasperated sigh.

“Where is she?” Remus asked impatiently.

“I swear she was just behind me...” James admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. 

“She cannot miss lunch, she hardly sat down long enough for breakfast this morning.” Remus commented mostly to himself as he headed back the way he came, hoping to quickly find wherever you’d wandered off to.

Although your whimsy and excitement in life was one of the things the boys most admired about you, it did make Remus worry from time to time that you’d forget to look after yourself.

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, however, seeing as you had three boyfriends here to help you out on that end. Though, it didn’t speak very highly of them when they kept losing you.

There were very few moments in his life he was particularly grateful for his lycanthropy, but this was perhaps one of them.

He could smell you before he heard you, and he heard you before he saw you. 

He rounded a corner which was disturbingly far from the Great Hall, meaning they’d lost you quite some time ago, and saw you conversing with a portrait of the Fat Friar. 

“From what I’ve learned both in life and in death, forgiveness is not only for the other person, but also for yourself.” The Fat Friar said to you. Remus paused in his steps to enjoy the uninhibited smile that graced your face. 

“Have you ever met someone unworthy of forgiveness, Friar?” You asked, your serene voice drifting down the hallway and gracing Remus’ ears.

“Not in my nearly 1000 years.” He answered.

Your smile grew impossibly wider at that. “Me either.”

Remus couldn’t take it anymore, he resumed his trek towards you, and though he’d been going for stern, he knew his face looked impossibly lovesick as you turned your beaming smile onto him.

“Hi Rem.” You called softly, turning away from the portrait and towards your boyfriend.

“We thought we lost you, dovey.” He reprimanded as he reached for your face, resting one hand on either cheek and tilting your face up towards him.

“I’m never very far.” You answered. Remus was torn between wanting to roll his eyes fondly and thanking you for ensuring that this was true.

“Any amount of space is too far, my love.” He said instead, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your eyes closed and you let out a pleased hum. 

“Why’d you wander off, dove?” He asked as he pulled back, keeping your face secured in his hands and rubbing your cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“I saw a dedalian key fly by, but as I was following it, I saw the portrait of Ferdinand Octavius Pratt who was very upset because the Fat Friar’s ghost insisted that he let go of old grudges. So, I figured I’d ask the Friar his side of the story. And, well, here we are.” You finished, smiling up at him like having him find you here had been your master plan all along.

“Here we are.” He murmured back, wondering how on earth he and his boyfriends managed to land something as impossibly sweet as you. 

Speaking of said boyfriends, Remus’ thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two heavy footfalls as the sods came running up to the two of you.

“There you are dollface! We were worried sick.” Sirius proclaimed as he all but shoved Remus out of the way and took his place, holding your face in his hands and peppering your head with kisses.

You giggled and pulled back slightly, which Sirius allowed but kept you safe within his grasp.

“You needn’t worry, Sirius. I was in wonderful company.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow and Remus translated for him.

“She was busy talking to the Fat Friar when I found her.”

Sirius nodded in understanding before he narrowed his eyes at you. “He wasn’t making moves on you, was he?”

You laughed as if Sirius had made some very funny joke, and Remus laughed along with you even though he could tell Sirius wasn’t  entirely convinced. 

“I’m sorry we lost you, angel.” James said somewhat meekly. Remus knew though that he was mostly apologizing to Remus and less to you.

“That’s quite alright Jamie.” You assured him. “I would have found you later.”

Some tension left James’ shoulders as he smiled at you, sharing a shy glance with Remus before continuing. “You didn’t eat much for breakfast since you were so excited about the Grindylow’s hatching, so...” He said as he pulled out a tote bag from behind his back. “Pads and I ran to the kitchens and packed a picnic. Would you like to head down to the Black Lake now?”

If Remus’ heart grew two sizes at the sentiment, yours must have grown three.

“Oh, Jamie!” You nearly squealed, pulling him into a hug that he eagerly reciprocated. 

“I’d love that! Thank you!” You cheered, stepping back towards Sirius who quickly hooked your arm in his – a guarantee that he wouldn’t lose you this time.

“After you then, m’lady.” Sirius said seductively with a wink, causing you to giggle again as the two of you turned and headed towards the school grounds. 

Remus quickly pulled James up against his side and pressed a kiss into his hair.

“You’re such a sweet boy, James Potter.” He murmured, feeling the fondness ooze right out of his being for this man he somehow got to call his. 

“Yeah?” James asked, sending Remus a beaming smile.

Remus smiled and accepted a searing kiss from the quidditch chaser.

James let out a pleased sigh as he pulled out of the kiss and walked in step with Remus, looking ahead to watch you and Sirius nearly skip down the hall. It was incredibly lighthearted, though Remus noticed Sirius possessively pull you into his side as you two walked past the ghost of the Fat Friar who exchanged nothing more than a polite head nod with you.

“We’re so lucky.” James commented.

Remus couldn’t help but agree.

[cal-flakes]

someone requested this and now i can’t find it😓

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

—“c’mon, we’re going fuckin’ home” he hissed through gritted teeth, vice grip on your arm with no sign of letting up as he pulled you away from the country club, huffing and puffing as you went. “but—“ you cried, only to be interrupted. “but fuckin’ what? hm? but fuckin’ nothin’”

tears flooded your waterline as you neared the car, or more so, we’re dragged towards it. he refused to look at you, knowing the exact look on your face— the one that would make him give in within mere seconds, and he didn’t want to give in. you’d pissed him off, big time. whining and pestering him all day, talking back, making snappy little comments under your breath, and he’d absolutely had enough.

before you knew, you were being pushed into the passenger seat, the door slamming beside you before he hopped in the drivers and buckled your belt, eyes still avoiding your own. “rafe—“ you started hesitantly, pulling your lip between your teeth.

when you received nothing back, not even a huff of acknowledgment, you reached out carefully, trailing your manicured hand along his arm. “m’sorry baby”

sighing, his knuckles relaxed slightly, returning to their usual colour. “no you’re not”

“i am! i am sorry!” you squeaked, edging further beside him, eager for his responses. you flinched when his hand flew toward you, pushing you back into your seat as the car came to a harsh stop. “the fucks’ gotten into you then? actin’ like a fuckin’ child all day” he groaned, tilting his head in anticipation for your answer.

dropping your gaze, your lip wobbled as you played with your hands— only irritating him further. clasping a hand over both of yours, he held them still. “m’talkin’ to you”

“jus’— jus’ wanted some attention, you’ve been talkin’ to everyone but me today” you frowned, picking your head up to face him, eyes wide and tearful.

“you know what good girls do when they want attention? they ask, they don’t nag n’d give me attitude all day” he stated, his firm tone causing your lips to quiver once again.

“you wanna be good f’me? huh?” he poked, tilting your chin up with his fingers. you nodded, lashes fluttering as you enjoyed the warm of his measly touch.

“get in the back”

[justawritterwithideas]

law in pink | s.r

♡ next part ♡

summary: when the BAU needs an extra helping hand, Washington decides to send the best of the best, but what they didn't expect was to see... pink.

warnings: a bit of stereotypes, beyond that a bit of comedy and fluff. there may be mistakes in writing because I wrote it too fast :(

this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader

words: 1,649 words.

a/n: elle woods from legally blonde comes to my mind constantly because is one of my favorite movies, so I wanted to make a mix called "ssa elle woods"; I hope you like it and you can understand the idea of reader as elle woods, I also hope I didn't portray it wrong and that it will be misunderstood T T

The BAU needed a hand with the rising crime wave, so, straight from Washington they sent the best of the best from their office.

And of course Penelope had to investigate.

According to her research, you had graduated from Harvard with honors and had given the honorary alumni speech at your class graduation. In addition, you were a part-time Harvard professor of Political Theory during the fall and part of a prolific group of researchers in your Washington office, which had the highest rate of successfully resolved cases in the last 5 years.

In addition, you had achieved on your LSAT a score of 179 out of 180 points.

Something inside Penelope reminded her a little of her friend, Spencer Reid, in you.

But what she didn't expect to see when she looked you up on the interwebs was the fashionista and family friendly life you had. The way your apartment was decorated with a pretty pink aesthetic, your outfits videos that reached millions of views and your day to day routines were the mantra of many girls, being all perfectly edited.

With that and more, anyone would think that your job was not to be a federal agent, but an influencer.

Penelope was already smelling perfume from her computer, and that made her more than eager to meet you.

It was seeing one just like her in front of her screen.

You were the perfect candidate to be her new best friend.

The clacking of your heels and the smell of your Chanel perfume filled the entire BAU office, causing the complicit glances of all the workers who were there.

"Have you seen Barbie yet?" "Is the model missing?" "What about her? Maybe she's a lost intern. First-timer problems."

Everyone was making comments you'd heard more than once in some police office, maybe it was the way you dressed didn't go along with the aesthetic they had or how feminine your attire might be, but that's who you were and for a couple of comments about your appearance and the stereotype they had they weren't going to sour your day.

"Excuse me, are you looking for someone?"

You turned to see a tall, dark man, who was watching your outfit from last season's Prada fit you to perfection.

"Oh! Finally someone nice." You commented with a smile. "Yes, I'm looking for Agent Aaron Hotchner."

"He's my boss, would you like help finding his office? I can help you."

"That would be great, thank you very much..."

"Agent Morgan, Derek Morgan."

"It's a pleasure, Agent Derek. I'm Y/N, nice to meet you."

You didn't like to introduce yourself officially as an agent, it made you look rather intimidating if you did, and that was what you didn't want.

It wasn't a long walk to the wooden door which was adorned by a plaque with the name of the person you were looking for.

"This is it, you come for a case? Any family members involved?"

"No, I'm coming to help. Thank you very much, by the way."

You gave him one last smile before knocking on the door, hearing a "pass" from inside.

"Who was the girl you were escorting, Derek?" Emily watched the man reach them, peering curiously inside Hotch's office.

"Her name is Y/N, she said she was coming to help, but... I don't know, she doesn't look like someone coming to help, maybe she's a witness."

Spencer's eyes scanned the situation, trying to conclude who the mystery woman inside his boss's office was about, but coming up with nothing on the spot. Like his friends, they were all searching for an answer to the abiding doubt in his head.

Who exactly was that girl and why had she said that? She didn't seem like a person whose job was an office job, but not one that was very risky either.

But before they could say anything, Aaron came out of the office with his ever-serious face.

"Meeting in 5" was the only thing he announced, so the group took heed and went to the place.

Once inside the office, Penelope found herself with her dear friends, who were trying to figure out the causes of the recent meeting.

"You don't know Pen either, do you?" J.J. was the first to speak.

"No idea, Hotch just asked me to be here."

"Just like everyone else." Rossi replied, settling around the round table with his coffee cup.

The conversation didn't last long when Hotch entered the boardroom.

"Good. I know there's no case yet or apparent reason to get them together first thing." Hotch began. "But as you may know, the last couple of months have seen an increase in crime for the BAU, which is exactly why we've been given extra funding to bring an extra agent onto the team."

Sounds of excitement came from everyone's mouths.

"So I've been contacting old colleagues, who recommended the best of the best. So they've transferred an agent from Washington to help us."

"Boy, they must be desperate." Derek's comment drew a few chuckles.

"I'd like to introduce you to the SSA, Y/N Woods."

Everyone's countenance changed to one of surprise when they saw you walk in, smiling in the friendliest way possible.

The same girl who looked like a model fresh off a runway was the newest member of the BAU.

"It's nice to meet you all, I hope we can work well together." You set your Prada bag to the side, being able to scan each of the members quickly.

"Woods, this is SSA Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, dr. Spencer Reid and our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia."

"Hey, I know you." You commented in the direction of Garcia, who was smiling politely. "You were the girl who commented on my recipe for the vegetarian tacos."

"Yes! They looked exquisite."

"Thank you very much, I hope they were helpful. We need to be a little more conscientious with our four-legged friends."

Spencer didn't know if he was dazzled by the whiteness of your teeth or the warm way you had entered into trust with Penelope with a simple recipe.

"Woods, Garcia. You'll have time to talk."

"I'm sorry, sir." They both replied at the same time.

"Fine, I'll go prepare the case, Garcia come with me."

They both walked out of the meeting room, leaving you alone with the rest of your new group of colleagues.

"I didn't know you were an agent." Derek was the first to break the silence surrounding them, causing you to turn in his direction.

"I didn't mean to mention it, I'm not a person who usually blurts it out just like that on the first interaction. You never know what kind of person a stranger is." You commented before you could look at him again. "No offense."

"No problem."

"From Washington, right?" Your gaze went to the blonde, who was watching from her position with a warm smile.

"That's right, even though I'm from California but I moved to Massachusetts after getting into Harvard, and then to Washington when I got an opening in the federal office there. So I'm from here, there and over there, but I'll always be a California gurl." A chuckle came out of your mouth after making a reference to the Katy Perry song, bringing your hands to your sides.

"Harvard? What did you study?" Spencer looked more and more interested.

"Law." You commented offhandedly. "I actually studied Fashion Merchandising at UCLA with a 4.0 GPA. But I wanted to prove myself and decided to get into Harvard Law."

"Switching from Fashion Merchandising at UCLA to Harvard Law is a big jump, how much did you get on your entrance exam?" Rossi asked.

"179."

Everyone's surprised face made an impression on you.

"What, like it's hard?" your eyelashes fluttered softly, before you remembered what you were holding as a "peace offering". "By the way, I made cookies yesterday for being the first day and making a good impression." Your hands went to your bag, pulling out a heart-shaped tupperware. "They're lavender and butter, it's a recipe I read on a fairly well known blog forum, they say Paris Hilton gets her recipes from there."

You held out the tupper to each of them to take out a cookie, leaving it on the table in case they liked to take out more.

"If they like more, just pull out. There's enough for everyone." A little smile tugged at your mouth. But before you heard any response from either person, the catchy ringtone of Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl" interrupted any culinary criticism. "Excuse me..." Your hand went for your phone, which didn't surprise others by being pink, and you left the room letting out a "Woods" as you answered.

"This is new." Derek said.

"And delicious." Emily took another bite of her cookie.

"She's different than what we usually know." Rossi looked at the rest, taking a second cookie out of the tupper. "But I don't mind at all, in fact, I think new always comes in good."

"True, it's always good to have someone new and with a different vibe."

The group turned to look at Reid, who was holding the cookie with his right hand. The young man wasn't usually one to blurt out a comment, just like that, least of all referring to a girl.

"Oh kid, you find her attractive." Derek was the first to smile in amusement.

"What, no." The voice in a higher pitched tone than normal was what gave Spencer away.

"Spencer likes Y/N." J.J annoyed, walking out of the office laughing along with Emily.

"That's not true!"

"See ya, lover boy." Derek commented along with Rossi, who was gently patting his shoulder with a knowing smile.

And so it was that Spencer was left in the meeting room with his cheeks as pink as his new co-worker's heels.

♡ next part ♡

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

[chrissv4mp]

STARGIRL

scratchin' counter tops, i was screamin'.

my back arched like a cat...

heavy breathes, low moans, quiet whimpers, and the sounds of the slapping skin, that's all that consumed the rather large kitchen that you and madison were in. such a large space... so many options for either of you to cook, sit, eat, and everything else that was normal in a kitchen.

but those were the last things you wanted to do with her in the space, the last thing that crossed your mind after she had bent you over the kitchen island. it should've been—it was considered absurd what you two were doing, it was so fucking inappropriate the way she was slamming her hips against yours in such a rhythmic pattern.

her strap hit all the places your fingers could never, the ridges of the cock rubbing you in all the right places, making you see stars each time she thrusted and hit your cervix. your nails scratched on the marble of the counter, her hand making you unable to hang your head low as she tugged at your hair. she never wanted those pretty noises of yours to go away.

it wouldn't be long until one of your neighbors came to her door to complain about the lewd sounds coming from the apartment. you couldn't even imagine the uncomfortable look on their face as they noticed the disheveled look of your girlfriend, hair messy and face flushed, wearing a thin layer of sweat.

madison ran her hand down from the nape of your neck to the curve of your back, pushing down gently and watching as your back arched further. her pupils were blown out in lust, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she breathed through her nose, chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern.

"such a sweet girl," she huffed, leaning over your body to kiss your shoulder, her fingertips dancing along the expanse of your back, feeling every twitch of your muscles and every short breath you took, "doin' so good, baby."

you nodded dumbly, letting out a strangled moan at her praise. fuck, you couldn't take it anymore. your hand reached back to grab a handful of her hair, tugging softly as you tried to hold back your orgasm. you didn't wanna cum without her permission. you couldn't.

tears pricked on your eyes, blurring your vision even further. you could barely see now, the only things you could see being the stars behind your eyelids each time you blinked. god, this girl was ruining you. she was ruining you past the point of no return.

you shouldn't cry. but, god, it was so fucking good. how were you supposed to hold back? as you blink, the tears begin to roll down your cheeks, your lips parting to let out the most pathetic sobs as madison continues to thrust her cock in and out of your pussy.

"good girl, so good f'me, isn't that right?" she mutters, but her words don't register in your head. all you hear is jumbled up syllables, and, fuck, you cum on the spot because that one part in your brain is telling you she gave you permission. but she didn't.

madison gasps quietly into your ear, pulling away from your body to watch as the warm liquid forms a ring around the bade of the silicone cock. her lips curve into a smile as she chuckles softly, "couldn't hold it, could you?"

you shake your head weakly, letting out whiny moans as you feel her slowly pick up her pace again. her thrusts are slower than before, helping you ride out your orgasm as she coos sweet praises into your ear, her hands running along the sides of your waist.

@her-favorite @hrtsdollie @cuntymilaa

[halfwayhearted]

Elle Greenway x F!reader and Elle was too scared to ask her out bc she didn’t know what way readers swung and then reader makes a comment about being like gay or something or smnth about woman. idk how to phrase that. and Elle finally is like omg and asks her out. Lmk.

(You) On My Arm — Elle Greenaway.

Pairing: Elle Greenaway x Fem!Reader

Summary: She isn’t entirely sure if you're into girls in that way, but when a particular question prompts you to reveal your orientation, she feels a subtle yet undeniable pang of satisfaction. She decides then to seize her moment.

Word Count: 580+

Disclaimer/s — Small mention of murder (😭), Derek and his nicknames, no use of Y/N, the dinner being Season One, Episode Seventeen! :3

A/N: I LOVED THIS REQUEST BAAAAAAD…

Fiddling with the chopsticks in your hand, you continued to zone out while your team delved into discussions about other cases, the current case you were working on, and well—

“So, Elle,” the BAU unit chief inquired with a light, playful tone, “Are you seeing anyone?”

The girl in question let out a nervous laugh, her eyes inadvertently flickering towards you. Upon realizing that you hadn't noticed, she allowed her shoulders to slump in visible relief.

Derek let out a dramatic sigh from beside you, shaking his head. “We already know what she'll say. What about you? We don't know much about you yet. Enlighten us,” he remarked, gently nudging you with his arm, ultimately snapping you out of your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you said, “Hm, what?”

“Tell us about yourself,” he repeated. “Talk about your love life—get interesting with it.”

“Get interesting with it?” You echoed with a laugh, setting your chopsticks down onto your plate. You hummed, pondering where to begin. “Huh, I'm not really sure. I didn't date much as a teenager, and that hasn't really changed now.”

The Morgan man frowned, “So, nobody? Ever?”

You clicked your tongue. “Hey, I didn't say that, now did I?”

“Oh, okay, player. Let us have it.”

“I once had a boyfriend, and that relationship lasted about four months,” you began, leaning back in your seat with a sigh. “It didn't really work out—he was gross and, well, just gross. I did have a girlfriend for about a year and a half.”

Elle’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at that. A girlfriend? For a whole year and a half?

“A year and a half?” She responded, doing her absolute best to keep her voice from sounding overly ecstatic. “What happened?”

Meeting her gaze, you felt your face flush as you shrugged, “We were on different wavelengths.”

Different wavelengths. Right, got it.

The conversation wandered through countless topics after that, so when you got up to use the restroom, no one paid you much mind. However, as soon as you stepped out, you nearly collided with Elle, who swiftly placed her hands on both your elbows, apologizing profusely.

Though, you only focused on one thing.

Her hands on you.

“It’s fine,” you assure her, stepping aside to give her room to enter. But when she remains rooted to her spot, you furrow your eyebrows and softly spoke, “Elle, are you okay?”

“Will you go out with me?” She blurted out, her tone unwavering and her head tilted in a way that quite literally left you breathless.

All you could do was stand there, because had she really asked what she just asked?

You had almost forgotten that you were standing in front of a literal bathroom. Not exactly your ideal scenery, but you understood the reason as to why. “Like—a date?” You asked, feeling a bit stupid. What else could it be? Of course, a date.

“Yes,” she replied rather quickly, “A date.”

A date with her. Nodding your head, you let a smile form on your face as you bit your lip before replying, “Yes, I’d love to.”

Just as you were about to relish in the moment of going out with her, Spencer suddenly peeked his head around the corner, startling the both of you. “Hey, guys. Oh, sorry—we, uh, we just got called in. He killed a cop-killer. C’mon.”

“Okay,” you both replied in unison, exchanging another smile before walking out, side by side.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ (thank you for helping! 🫦)

[little-pondhead]

man i'm on a roll tonight

DP x DC idea:

Bruce Wayne has somehow managed to become the unofficial guardian of at least two more kids. Maybe three. He's not sure yet. Various members of the Batfamily have made new friends recently and have been having them hang out at Wayne manor for extensive periods of time. Now only if he could actually meet the rascals face-to-face, maybe he could adopt them for real.

or

Danny, Elle, and Jazz have all made friends with different Wayne kids at different times from different places. Damian met Elle at school, Danny met Tim while working at a coffee shop, and Jazz met Cass outside the local theater. All three visit the manor separately, and no one communicates that they've befriended people from the same family. Eventually, however, their hangout sessions accidentally overlap and the Waynes have to deal with the excitement of three Fentons under a single roof.

Let's just say there's a reason the three of them live separately.

[sourholland]

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → welcome to the first part of style!! if you guys enjoy this i can for sure come up with a more permanent updating schedule. like i said, i came up with this idea pretty suddenly. let me know to be added to the taglist, interaction is always encouraged if you like!!! it lets me know you guys want more parts

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language, alcohol use, mention of injury, nsfw content

word count → 4.1k

reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 1

After a rigorous auditioning process with over a thousand girls trying to earn their spot on the Bengal’s Cheerleading Squad, only forty made the cut. Most returners, some new like yourself. You’d watched girls break bones, continuing to audition on them to have a shot on the squad. Many left in tears, cut and sent home with hardly any reason why.

There was a little bit of metaphorical survivor’s guilt after you’d made the team, knowing this wasn’t your dream like it was for some others. This was only a season or two commitment for you while you finished up your last year of college. Then you’d become a teacher, something you’d had a passion for over the years. Cheerleading was more so a hobby, you’d danced all of your life and had cheered in high school. This wasn’t going to be your livelihood, nor did it offer you the funds to live off of for more than a short while.

There were plenty of rules to follow, many of which had you questioning if this was truly what you wanted. The handbook they’d given you was thick, although some of the girls had told you that they’d lessened up on the requirements over the years after a lawsuit had been filed. In the end, it wasn’t so bad. Tedious, but still a very surreal experience.

From about April to the middle of July, it was practice twice a week from 7:30 at night to about 11. There was a separate facility used to work and condition through the colder months, just following the Super Bowl. Once pre-season truly began, the whole team moved practice facilities. This put you in the same place as the Bengals practiced, giving you more field time than gym time to get acclimated. It was different, especially due to the fact that players and cheerleaders were placed at an arms length most of the time.

The afternoon of the first practice at the new stadium, you’d all been given the talk. This was basically your coaches and executives way of saying that if anyone found out that anyone off the squad had anything more than a friendly, professional relationship with one of the players—they’d be either cut or sanctioned. It was bad for the image of the team, making it bad for those in charge.

It shouldn’t have been a problem.

That first night practice in August was tough, you were coming off of a sprained ankle and the heat was blistering even at 8 at night. Amanda, your head coach, sent you inside to grab some ice from the athletic trainer to bring back out to the field. There was a stigma around the coaching and treatment of NFL cheerleaders, but you’d mostly had a decent experience so far. Your coaches did care that you were healthy and equipped to cheer.

Adorned in a slightly baggy Bengals T-shirt and spandex, you walked through the empty halls of the mostly deserted facility. The players had just ended their practice about an hour earlier, you watched them all exit into the locker room. That meant that mostly everyone had called it a night, heading home. The cheerleaders stayed late because practice was meant to be after work or class, it wasn’t a full-time job.

The door to the athletic trainers office was slightly ajar, the light on. Pushing it open slightly, you stepped in with furrowed eyebrows and a curious look. On the large medical table, ice in hand, sat Joe Borrow still in his practice jersey and shorts. The office was empty besides him, trainer nowhere to be seen.

He was a good looking guy, you’d give him that. Maybe it was the fact that he was 6’4 or maybe it was the fact that he was really fucking good at his sport. He looked up at you and gave a friendly grin, laying the ice on his knee.

“Emily said she was heading home about a half hour ago, her kid was sick or something so she had to pick him up from the babysitter,” Joe told you politely. “I came in just as she was like walking out, she just told me to lock up the office when I was done.”

Someone was clearly a rambler.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I was just going to grab some ice.”

He nodded and went silent while you walked over to the ice maker, taking the plastic scooper and putting some of it into a plastic bag. He was still looking at you, making it obvious as you saw him from your peripheral. Twisting the bag, you felt slightly awkward just standing there in silence.

“I’m Joe,” he spoke again.

“Y/N,” you turned back towards him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He extended a hand towards you, smiling as you took it and shook it softly. When you broke from his grip, he remained looking at you. He was definitely one of those people who looked you right in the eyes through the entire conversation. You didn’t know if this made you particularly uncomfortable or slightly excited.

“You’re a cheerleader.”

“Was that a question?” You chuckled, “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“No, no. I was kind of just thinking out loud.”

He was easily flustered, that much was obvious. He repositioned the bag of ice and looked back up at you with slightly pink cheeks. This made you want to crack a grin, feeling like you were talking to a boy for the first time ever or something.

“I should head back to practice,” you told him, watching him slowly nod in understanding.

“Yeah, of course,” Joe smiled. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N.”

Walking out of the athletic trainer’s office felt somewhat like developing a crush in sixth grade of sorts. With hot cheeks, you could not get him out of your head for the remainder of practice. Whether it was his stupid hair or his stupid shit-eating grin, or his stupidly toned body.

The drive home was only a twenty-five minute stretch of turning back the interaction in your mind over and over with Phoebe Bridgers playing lightly in the background. Pulling into your apartment complex garage was when you’d finally resorted to telling yourself to leave it be and take a cold shower. This boy was not worth thinking too hard about.

You turned the key over and cut the vehicle off, grabbing your phone and cheer bag to head to the elevator. The walk up was somewhat somber after a hard practice with a racing mind.

By the time you’d made it up to your front door, you glanced down at your phone to check the time. There were several unopened notifications, nothing out of the ordinary at first glance. One immediately stuck out to you, though.

joeyb_9 started following you.

“What the fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, nearly dropping your keys as you unlocked the door.

There was a small part of you that was excited by this, he was one of the most sought after players in the NFL—who wouldn’t be a bit flattered? Only there was a small part of you that wondered why he was going out of his way to search up your instagram.

Setting your phone down, you resorted to making yourself a quick dinner. Watching your phone light up from where you stood across the kitchen making yourself a wrap was slightly unnerving.

Once you finally couldn’t resist any longer, you sauntered over to grab your phone off of the island. He’d sent you two DMs. One right after the other.

@joeyb_9: Hey

@joeyb_9: It’s Joe.

This boy was either extremely humble or just plain stupid. His ability to continue to tell you that it was Joe—like you wouldn’t know who Joe Burrow was.

@y/n.y/l/n: I’m aware

@y/n.y/l/n: Missing me already?

@joeyb_9: Maybe…

There was a slight pause in between his next message, you weren’t sure what to say to that. This was already pretty bizarre and very against the code of conduct you signed at the start of your cheer season.

@joeyb_9: Sorry if this is weird

@y/n.y/l/n: That you’re sliding into my dms lol?

@joeyb_9: Is that what this is??

@y/n.y/l/n: You use that on all the girls, Joe?

@joeyb_9: Would you believe me if I said no?

@y/n.y/l/n: Probably not lmfao

@joeyb_9: That’s fair, I probably wouldn’t either

This was the point in the conversation where you always wondered what to do. It also was pretty obvious that you were not the only girl Joe Burrow probably private messaged on instagram. He’d probably long forget about you by morning and the few hours of your stomach doing backflips at every message would cease.

@y/n.y/l/n: Alright, I’m headed to bed.

@y/n.y/l/n: Was nice meeting you earlier. Have a goodnight!

@joeyb_9: Goodnight, Y/N :)

The smiley face was only slightly scream inducing. He was a nice guy, but he was not just any guy. This was the type of guy that charms you straight into bed and is gone before you wake up. This was what you reminded yourself at least.

-

The next day was fairly simple, the thought of Joe escaping you almost entirely by lunch. Classes hadn’t yet begun, making it easy for you to go out with girlfriends and get your mind off of any failed talking stages or unattainable guys like Joe Burrow.

“He’s hot as fuck, though,” Lena said, eyes closed as she laid on a towel beside you.

It was a lake day, the heat beading down on the both of you as you felt the sun on your bikini clad skin. On your right and left was Lena and Sydney, both close friends from college. Lena had been your freshman year roommate.

“He is,” Sydney agreed. “Plus, I mean, you can’t say you didn’t think about it a little bit when you started cheering for the Bengals.”

“Okay, screw you!” You laughed. “It’s not some fucking erotica, I don’t cheer hoping to sleep with one of the players.”

“Kind of a turn on, though,” Lena hummed.

Once the three of you had made it onto Lena’s boyfriend’s party barge, you broke out the Mike’s Hard and Twisted Tea. This only led to endless giggling about Joe and pretty much any guy they’d heard you have spoken to since high school.

Living in Ohio had its faults, like the fact that there was no ocean. Lake days on the boat weren’t so bad, though. Sydney had a gift for taking hot pictures too. Her camera skills truly did capture your ass at its best, and your skin glowing.

“Post those,” Lena told you. “See if Mr. Joe Sheisty will like them.”

“He won’t,” you sighed. “He definitely was just fucking around last night.”

They both rolled their eyes and sat back as the boat bobbled a little. While the idea of entertaining Joe was slightly enticing, it was so against the rules and you really couldn’t afford to get kicked off the squad before the first actual game of the season.

The alcohol kind of skewed your judgement, though. Making it fairly easy for you to post the bikini pictures and keep refreshing the likes. You weren’t necessarily proud, but it was hard to resist the urge to match his energy of private messaging you.

A few hours after you made it home, the notification popped up on your screen. You were midway through stretching to work on your routine for your next practice.

joeyb_9 liked your post.

@joeyb_9: Would it be wrong to tell you how gorgeous you are?

This just about sent you over the edge. You’d thought your days of dms from Joe Burrow were done and the novelty would’ve worn off after he’d slept on it.

@y/n.y/l/n: Slightly wrong

@joeyb_9: Fine by me

Swiping out of the instagram app, you decided that you needed to continue your stretch and practice. There was a night practice tomorrow and you couldn’t afford to show up unprepared, this would only end in worse things than flirting with Joe.

Between ab exercises and strength training, you’d been able to glance down at your phone with no more texts received. Of course, you had left him on read. It was pretty obvious his intentions, though. At least it seemed it.

-

Practice was strenuous, it was only three nights of the weeks so the coaches made sure to push each girl to their limit each night. By the last thirty minutes of practice, your ankle was on fire.

They’d made you run through the stunting over and over again, launching you into the air and cradling you over and over again. The stadium lights were gleaming onto you, your face coated in a thin layer of perspiration.

Through your peripheral, you could see Joe leaning against the doorframe of the stadium support office. He was pretending to scroll through his phone, glancing up and watching every couple of seconds. The players had a practiced later tonight, but still had been done for over forty five minutes.

Every time they sent you up, you were reminded of your distractions. A coach would yell to point your toes, or smile bigger, or suck in harder. Physically, you were exhausted. Mentally, you had already checked out of practice completely.

“Did any of you see Joe?” Carolina asked in a hushed voice, picking up her things as practice ended, ready to head inside. “He was watching for like a half hour.”

“Really?” Johnna smirked. “Alright, which one of you is he sleeping with? I won’t tell, I just have to know,” she teased.

The girls continued to discuss it bashfully all the way inside. Joe was nowhere to be seen, making you wonder if he’d even been there to watch you at all. Truly, you were feeding your own delusions. There were so many girls on the team, he was bound to find interest in the group as a whole. That was sort of the whole appeal.

Just as you finished up showering in the locker room, you heard the ding of your phone. Another message from Joe.

@joeyb_9: Hey, I’m in the parking lot. Down for getting something to eat?

The overwhelming feeling of excitement and guilt passed over you. This was so against the rules, and this guy was such a player. It was not worth it, but a part of you didn’t care. You were only twenty one once, wasn’t this the kind of thing you did.

@y/n.y/l/n: Give me like 10 minutes

He liked the message, giving you some time to slip into the white dress you’d thrown in the bag. It was kind of wrinkled, the type of thing you’d put over a bikini leaving the beach. The true definition of a sundress. There were Birks at the bottom of your bag. The August heat was still very sticky and humid, even at almost midnight.

There wasn’t much else in your bag, you let your hair down from its claw clip and used the mascara in your bag to at least lift your lashes. Some Glossier cloud paint and brow gel and you were left with nothing else really. It wasn’t often you needed to do much to your face after practice. You mostly had the few things you did for morning practices before classes.

The walk out to his car was slightly dehumanizing, knowing how badly you were breaking the rules right now. He had turned his headlights off, inside dark and hard to see from an outside perspective. He’d messaged you that he was in a black Porsche, which was telling.

Once you opened the door and the small yellow light came on, you could see him in a white T-shirt and black sweatpants. His hair was familiarly slicked back, smirk on his face as he watched you step in.

“You’re going to bring me back to pick up my car, right?” You asked, knowing your car would reside in the parking lot until you came back.

“Yes,” he laughed. “I’ll bring you back to grab your car.”

The car smelled very fresh, you threw you cheer bag in his backseat. It laid next to his football bag, his practice jersey crumbled up and stuffed in carelessly.

He put the car in reverse and pulled out of the lot. It was a comfortable silence for about a minute before he began babbling about watching you practice. You’d never heard a boy so enthused to know about stunting and what it meant to be a flyer.

“What if they drop you, though?” He looked over at you. “Does that happen ever?”

“Well—yes. I kind of just have to get back up and try again or some other girl will take the flyer position. It’s not really something I can control.”

“That’s like crazy,” he mumbled, fully serious.

His radio hummed the sound of Pink Floyd, making you grin. He was a fan of older rock. That, you wouldn’t have guessed. Joe tapped his fingers along the steering wheel, smiling every time he saw you looking at him.

“Do you like Mcdonald’s?” He asked, ready to put his blinker on and pull into the drive thru.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Who doesn’t?”

He got up to the menu and glanced over it for a second, looking to you for what you wanted. As you told him, he laughed at you for not wanting a burger. This made you teasingly shove him in the arm.

“Welcome to Mcdonald’s. What can I get for you?”

“Alright,” Joe started. “Can I get a Double Quarter Pounder with onions, a large fry, and a large chocolate shake. Then can I get a ten piece chicken nugget and a large Dr. Pepper.”

“Will that be all?”

“Yeah, that’s gonna be it.”

Joe pulled up, still laughing about the fact that you went through a drive thru and got chicken nuggets on purpose. He slid his wallet out of his back pocket, giving you a funny look when you tried to hand him your card.

Pulling up to the first window, he gave the woman his debit card. You turned away from the window, making sure if she did recognize Joe, she would not be able to make out your face. While it was unlikely, it was just too risky. You did the same at the next window, Joe pulling the bag into the car and setting both drinks into the cup holder.

“Alright, I got a good spot to eat,” he said.

Cincinnati had plenty of spots you were unaware of, so when he continued to drive you out of the main part of the city, you were blissfully unaware of where you were. Either this was a ploy to murder you, or he just really liked surprises. After all, you were the one who got into his car.

Once he finally parked at the location, it was pushing one in the morning. It was a deserted lookout, a beautiful view of Cincinnati. The city looked lit up from this view, making your smile at that the gesture.

“The food might be slightly cold by now, but I really just wanted to bring you up here,” he said with a sigh as he sucked down the last of his milkshake.

“Here, have some,” you chuckled and handed him your soda.

The two of you ate, looking out at the city. The small talk was nice, he asked about cheerleading and you asked about football. Joe told you about his family and you asked about his hobbies. By the time you’d been sitting for a half hour, you were trying to throw french fries into his mouth without missing.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” you laughed nervously. “Why did you want me to come here with you, Joe? I mean, it’s all really nice and I’ve had a great time. Just why?”

He was silent for a moment, taking a sip from your soda. The question was kind of sudden, but you had to know. You’d only met a few days before, and this guy definitely had no trouble picking up women. So why you?

“Honestly, I just haven’t been able to get you out of my head,” he chuckled. “As stupid as that sounds out loud. I knew you might not go for this, but I thought maybe it’d be worth asking you.”

Your stomach flipped, his hair falling slightly into his eyes. The swell of his arms underneath that white T-shirt. This guy was insanely good looking, and maybe he was just saying what you wanted to hear, but you did really want to hear it.

Now, it wasn’t necessarily a good idea to look at him the way you were. It was impossible not to, though. Like clockwork, he was leaning into you full force and you let your hands go to his hair. His lips were hard on yours, desperate and hot. It was one of those kisses that wasn’t gentle nor rough, but completely and incandescently full of desperation.

Letting your hands slide down his body, you pulled at the white shirt, letting him know it was okay to run his hands up and down your torso. There was a middle console between you, making it hard to truly do much.

“Backseat?” You pulled away.

“Are you sure?” He asked, breathing heavy with swollen lips.

You nodded, he got out of the driver side and threw both bags in the front. Slipping back from the passenger seat, he got in through the back door. Immediately you’d both found each other again, bodies on fire. He let you get on top, straddling his thighs and kissing his throat.

Soon his hands found your breasts, leaving you to let our breathy whimpers. His lips were soon on your neck, sucking hard enough that it might leave a mark. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, pulling his shirt off and letting him do the same with your dress.

Left in your underwear and bra, his fingers grazed overtop of the fabric. His name left your lips in pleas, making his erection grow increasingly more obvious. He was watching you rock back and forth on his fingers, the windows of the car steamy.

“Fuck me,” you breathed. “Please, Joe. Fuck me.”

He unclasped your bra, letting his lips trail from your pulse point at the throat down to your collarbone, then to the bud of your nipple. He played with the other with his fingers, leaving you a whimpering mess. He felt you grind on his clothed erection, sending him into a spiraling mess as he sucked harder and harder, fingers slipping underneath the fabric and inside of you.

Eventually, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you pulled at the waistband of his sweatpants and let him help you to pull them down his thighs. He wore white Calvin Kleins’s, cock very clearly erect and begging to be let out from the constriction.

He slipped his fingers out and took the hem of the underwear, tearing the fabric in half. This made you slap his arm, muttering something about how those were Aerie and expensive.

“I’ll get you another pair,” he kissed you again.

You sat up on top of him, aligning yourself and letting his length sink into you. There was sweat dripping off of both of you, burying your head into his neck.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”

It was like nothing mattered except for this moment, you weren’t thinking about the consequences of your actions, or why it was wrong. He steadied your hips and held your jaw, looking you in the eyes at each thrust until you both came undone. Neither of you had regulated breathing, the whole car smelled like a mix of sex and his cologne.

“Fuck,” you sighed, head dropping onto his shoulder.

Slowly, you got off of his lap and let the realization of what you’d just done hit you. Here you were, in the back seat of Joe Burrow’s Porsche, having just had car sex. Now you had no underwear as well.

He pulled his underwear and sweatpants up, looking over at you and pushing his hair back out of his eyes. There was something funny about the entire situation, making you nearly bust into a fit of giggles.

“Are you laughing?” He teased.

“A little,” you laid your head against the seat.

He leaned forward and grabbed the Dr. Pepper from the middle console, taking a long sip and holding it out to you. You were pretty sure this wasn’t one of the five love languages, but it worked nonetheless.

taglist - @cutegyrl927 @angelspovxo @humannoodlesoup @nikkisimps @kriss-harrington @wooahaeuji @teasandcrumpets

let me know to be added to the taglist

[mcncherii]

🖇️ 𖥻 [ domestic with Carlos Sainz ! ]

He was the one who proposed the idea of a home date. Carlos ended up cooking a main course, accompanied with a bottle of wine for you to spend the night together. It ended up with some cuddles and kisses on the couch while jazz music was playing in the background as you talk about yours and his day.

▬▭ ♡‌ ⩇⩇ 𝓔 lle's radio 📼

First post here! Quite glad with how it turned out to be honest.

[ellecdc]

hi!!!!

id love to see a poly!marauders where the reader is muggle born or atlest muggle raised , reader and remus just bond over muggle stuff while the others sit there all confused asking wtf they’re talking about

like music, technology, maybe certain foods, certain slang and books the wizard world doesn’t have.

(ps i love ur blog and everything you write plz keep it up❤️)

hahaha awe so cute - here's a sweet little scene, and thanks for your request <33

poly!marauders x gn!reader who is muggle born

James was not too proud to admit he was rather upset.

And by upset, he meant jealous, terribly jealous. And desperate, so unbelievably desperate. And also sort of pissed off.

The cause of such upset, you might wonder?

Oh, only one of his own sodding boyfriends, of course.

You see, it had been his idea to start chatting with you in order to see where things could go - you know, romantically - between the four of you.

Sirius was eager - which would seem very out of character for the notoriously territorial and stand-offish Black who was wary of anyone interfering with their already established dynamic - but Sirius was equally as enamoured with you as James was from your shared classes and your few interactions around the castle.

Of course - as would be expected - it was Moony that the two of them had to persuade to consider you in earnest. 

“Come on, Moons. Don’t tell me you’re worried that you won’t be the smartest one in the relationship anymore.” Sirius had teased, earning him a glare from the werewolf. 

But of course, James (and Sirius) had been right, and Remus was practically immediately taken with you after James had officially introduced you to his boyfriends at a Gryffindor party. 

It was perhaps very helpful that you happened to be muggle born seeing as Remus had a muggle parent himself, so he was able to bond with you over various muggle things.

And James thought that was wonderful! Truly!

Really.

He honestly did.

But...well, did you guys have to talk about it all of the time!?

And it’s not that James didn’t like you talking about muggle things, or that he didn’t like muggle things in general.

What he didn’t like was that he couldn’t participate in the conversation at all.

And James is sorry, but what in the buggering fuck was a ‘vee sea are’?

James tuned back into the conversation when he began recognizing some of the words you and Remus were saying, though Sirius looked no less confused than he had previously.

“My favourite is probably The Sound of Music.” You admitted somewhat bashfully, features painted with a shy smile as you looked at Remus through your eyelashes.

James didn’t know what you were so shy about, especially considering Remus was beaming at you in response. “Me too!” He agreed readily.

“I love the sound of music!” James chimed in readily, earning him a surprise look from you, a curious look from Remus, and a bemused look from Sirius. 

“Do you really?” You asked sweetly, offering him a hopeful smile.

“I didn’t know you’d ever heard of it.” Remus added quietly.

James scoffed. “Oh, come off it Moons. Of course I love the sound of music! It’s arguably one of my favourite sounds ever!” 

“Awe.” You said sympathetically as Remus barked a laugh.

James looked at the two of you in confusion before he turned to Sirius in hopes for an answer. 

“I don’t know how Prongsie, seeing as they never really asked a question.” Sirius started, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh and squeezing gently, “But I think you got the answer wrong.”

James harrumphed and fell back into his chair, feeling thoroughly dejected. 

“I’m sorry Jamie.” You apologized, looking particularly distraught at having caused James any grief. “We can talk about something else, if you’d like.”

James waved you off quickly. “No, no. I’m sorry, sweets. It doesn’t matter to me what you talk about, as long as I get to continue hearing the sound of your lovely voice, arguably my second favourite sound ever.” 

James may not know what sounds of music you had been talking about, but he was proud that he did know how to make you blush something fierce with nothing but a few simple words. 

[cal-flakes]

Hello! Could you write something where reader and rafe are together for a while and completely obsessed with each other.. one day someone new to the island makes a negative comment about them and rafe hears about it

got a couple hurt/comfort requests so here u go xxx

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— laughter and embers from the log fire filled the air, comfortable sounds of waves crashing mixed with chatter, from everyone, from all sides of the island could be heard. and it made your heart swell.

but not nearly as much as the sight of your ever so gloomy boyfriend smiling; that’s right ladies and gentleman, rafe cameron had a smile on his face, a rare sight to behold. and it only made yours bigger, so much so that your cheeks hurt.

you sat comfortably on his lap, strong arms keeping you in places while he conversed with the other kooks, occasionally pressing the odd kiss to your shoulder, until you excused yourself. “m’gonna get another drink, want one?” you cooed, raking your manicured nails through the tiny growth of his buzzed hair. “m’all good kid, hold on— i’ll come with you”

after a minor dispute, nothing harmful, just his usual protectiveness kicking in, he finally agreed to let you go alone, seeing as it was ‘only over there’ you’d whined. you were a big girl, you could do things by yourself.

and you did, and yet, you’d come back sniffling. “hey—hey! c’mere, what’s wrong?” rafe almost shouted, heart beating at the sight of you, mascara smeared around your under eyes, nose red from running. shaking your head, you snuggled into his chest, desperately avoiding his prying gaze, yet only managed to draw more attention. “use your words alright? can’t help if i don’t know what’s going on kid” he sighed, pulling you from his chest and taking your chin in his hand.

“c-called me a stuck up bitch” you spluttered, struggling to catch your breath while rafe’s caught in his throat. it was like a switch, something going off in his mind as the words left your mouth. “who? tell me who angel”

“jj— he stopped me at the drinks bar”

“maybank, course it was fuckin’ maybank” he muttered, hands squeezing your face scarily tight, causing you to wince. “shit, m’sorry kid” he hummed, pressing a hard kiss to your chin before standing up, placing you in his warmed seat. “top— c’mon man, kelce— you keep an eye on her, alright?” he instructed, eyes avoiding your tearful gaze, not wanting your sweet little pout to distract him from what was about to go down.

“no—no rafe! please, jus’ sit with me, s’fine” you cried out, reaching for his arm as he began pulling away. turning back round, he knelt to your level— taking your face between his palms.

“listen angel, i love you— i really do, and that’s why he can’t get away with this, m’kay?”

[justawritterwithideas]

law in pink | s.r

♡ first part | next part ♡

summary: after confronting an unsub, it leaves you with a ugly mark and Spencer decides to give you a gift to cheer you up.

warnings: mentions of physical violence, beyond that a bit of girl power from reader and a sweet spencer worried about you.

this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader

words: 1,567 words.

a/n: by popular demand, here is part two of law in pink, and yes, I will be returning to this story in a short series with chapters from ssa woods!reader x spencer. thank you very much again and I hope you like it.

The first rule everyone should know about you is that they must never mess with your face.

Never.

Because they don't know what a process it is to get it well cared for, hydrated and with that natural glow. They also don't know how expensive your skincare products are (always the best of the best) and your sessions with your dermatologist.

So they should never, but never, mess with your face.

But clearly an unsub wasn't going to know that, a criminal accused of killing 4 women with a twisted mind was never going to think that.

Least of all when his hand punched you straight in the face, splitting your lip and leaving a mark on your cheekbone, causing the taste of iron to be savored in your mouth.

"What, is Barbie going to cry about her face? I don't understand why they sent the weakest one."

You turned to look at him as you heard his sarcastic laugh, which didn't last long as the Gucci logo on your heel was branded on his cheek and he was falling dazed after hitting a box in the process.

"Weak? Please, you messed with the wrong Barbie." You smiled proudly at the sight of him on the floor, pawing at your face and letting out a groan at the sensation of pain. "Now I'll have to make an appointment with my dermatologist and a traumatologist because of you." You sighed pulling the gun away from his body and proceeded to take his hands to cuff them.

Within minutes, you heard some voices calling out to you, so you began to signal where you were. Within seconds, you saw a concerned J.J. and Emily come down to where you were standing, pointing their guns at you.

The scene was amusing and amazing to watch, you on top of a man who was twice your size as well as weight, lying on the ground while his hands were cuffed.

"Malibu Barbie just captured the undercover toy." You motioned for the cops to take him away, noticing how Emily got a close look at your lip.

"That must hurt."

"It'll hurt more for him, these babies are from last season and has a good sole. Fresh from the mail and ready to make a mark." You commented showing your heels to your companions, hearing their laughter at your joke.

The three of you walked out behind the hoard of people, noticing Spencer and Derek getting out of the newly arrived SUV. As soon as Spencer's gaze captured your face in his field of vision, you could feel him notice right away how your wounded face was the focus of the stares.

"What happened?" Derek looked in everyone's direction, stopping your gaze on you and the clear change in your usual 'perfect' face. "Oh no, Barbie..."

"Don't even look at me, better look at him." You pointed your chin in the direction of the patrol car, where your shoe logo was visible on the criminal's ruddy cheek. "My pilates classes taught him a good lesson." You commented smiling, but immediately let out a groan from the pain it was to move the muscles in your face. "But I think it will leave me achy for a few days."

In between conversations, the others convinced you to go get attended to, so you heeded and walked away from them in the direction of the ambulance, so they could give your cheekbone and lip attention.

"Are you okay, Y/N?"

Spencer's soft voice made you forget the pain for a few seconds, turning to see his face and giving him a smile where your white teeth took center stage.

"I'm fine, it was just a tap." The paramedic walked away to leave the two of you alone. You knew it wasn't an answer that would leave Spencer satisfied about your condition, in fact, his intense stare at you was more than enough to make that clear. You let out a sigh, turning to look at the brunette. "Well, I don't think it's just a 'tap out'. I'll have to ask for a couple of days until I show up at the office decently, not with this horrible face."

One of your biggest problems was your appearance, as many may note, because, if you weren't perfect, you couldn't leave your house.

It had to be everything, head to toe, just the way you have it in your head, if not, sorry, but they'll have to wait for you.

"It's not horrible, you still look just as beautiful." Spencer's words seemed impulsive, but they made your cheeks turn pink, even though I wasn't the only one blushing at that moment, Spencer's were just the same.

"You think so?" your eyelashes fluttered softly, watching the boy.

"Y-yes, y-you always look cute, Y/N."

A kiss on his cheek was the positive response you left for Spence to understand that his words were the best choice, and helped push away those thoughts about how bad you looked with a swollen lip and bruises on your cheek.

"Thank you Spencie, your words are always the right ones. Like a good Chai Latte on a cold day." You smiled getting up from where you were, indicating to him that you would go to the SUV.

For the first time in his life, Spencer appreciated his impulsiveness.

About a week later, you reappeared at the office for a full day's work.

Your body was covered by a pink skirt and jacket ensemble, something that was no longer a problem for anyone after weeks of seeing you arrive like this.

The only thing that wasn't pink at all was your black purse, a beautiful Alexandra. K. Joy and of course, the tray full of coffees you were carrying in your hands.

"Miss Universe, you're back." Derek smiled, causing you to walk up to him and leave a short hug.

"Good things always come back, now be a cutie and help me with this, D." You passed him the tray with coffees, walking beside him as you shared a couple of words.

There was a variety of coffees for everyone according to their tastes, you had taken the time to memorize each order so that it was to their liking.

And as soon as you appeared, you heard Penelope's voice call out to you. Your hand rose to greet her, approaching her with a smile.

"My pretty Y/N." The blonde immediately caught you in a hug, causing you to do the same.

"Penny!" you said cheerfully as you passed her a butterscotch frappe with plant-based milk. "I picked out something I thought you'd like."

"Thanks, cutie. How's your lip?"

"Sore, a little damaged, but better than I thought. My dermatologist recommended a magic cream that Lindsay Lohan used, she said it worked miracles and in two weeks it would be just the way it was."

A smile tugged at your lips, starting to pass out the coffees you had bought until you reached the last one: the one for Dr. Reid.

"Spencie." Your voice snapped him out of his head, turning to see you with a smile.

"Y/N, hey. How are you doing?"

"Much, much better, look... My lip looks almost like it did before! I'll get back to my pretty face." You placed the coffee in front of his eyes, giving him another smile. "A coffee loaded with vegetable milk, I heard around that you're lactose intolerant so I took the liberty of choosing for you."

A blush of embarrassment at that secret settled on his cheeks, causing him to lower his head.

"Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate the coffee." He lifted the cup, taking a sip from it and simply gave you a look, causing you to smile and go to your table.

But it was surprise that settled on your face as you saw a box full of skincare products. Your hands went to grab the products, noticing that it was every single one you occupied and ever mentioned.

"What? Guys... Wow." You held up the little serum box, but the confusion on Emily's face turned your excitement to confusion. "It wasn't you guys?"

"I don't even remember what I did yesterday and I'm going to remember your products, cutie. You take a lot of them." Emily laughed softly, but made you look again in search of the person responsible.

"There's only one person who can remember details like that." Derek's words drew your gaze from your desk to that of a certain doctor, who was shifting his gaze back to his paperwork. "And he hides behind his work."

A soft blush settled on your cheeks, causing you to bring the little box to your chest and press it to your heart, marveling at the detail.

Your feet soon made their way to the desk of the person in charge, and catching him off guard, you left a kiss on his cheek where your pink lipstick was stamped on his skin.

"Thank you, Spencie. I'll take good care of it."

Spencer's heart stopped for a couple of seconds, you could read it.

And as soon as you left, just like a tomato the young doctor's face colored. As a plus, the comments from Morgan didn't take long to come.

"Wow pretty boy, you just won the lottery."

Spencer knew it and that caused him to smile, because boy did he win it.

♡ first part ♡

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

[chrisbesitos]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀masterlist. 𔘓

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🎧 – fluff | 🍁 – angst | 🎃 – smut.

꩜ chris sturniolo.

[ fanfics ]

someone older. [🎧🎃]

Y/N is a divorced mom who met Chris at a beach and ended up in a date with him. But he's nine years younger than she.

[ blurbs ]

chris accidentally reveals that they're expecting a baby on a twitch live. [🎧]

[ younger!reader series ]

[ fanfics ]

sweet relief. [🎧🍁🎃]

Chris dates a girl who's two years younger than he. Chris is 21 and the reader is 19.

this is me trying. [🍁🎧]

Y/N has being struggling with stress because of the university and chris helps her.

emails i can't send. [🍁🎧]

Y/N never had a healthy family and this still affect her.

[ blurbs ]

chris helps his girlfriend when she feels displaced with his friends. [🍁🎧]

little bear. [🎧]

a broken ankle, karma rules. [🍁]

insecurities. [🎧🍁]

chris teaching his girlfriend how to play Fortnite. [🎧]

bad moody. [🎧]

getting caught. [🎧]

she is beauty we are world class. [🎧🍁]

trick or treat? [🎧]

enough for you. [🎧🍁]

chris attacking y/n with kisses. [🎧]

chris loves y/n and mini pizza. [🎧]

it made me think of you. [🎧]

[ dealer!chris series ]

[ fanfics ]

ballerina & dealer. [🎃]

You meet chris at a party and he fucks you in your ballet costumes.

scared of storms. [🍁🎧]

Storms scare you and you are embarrassed to tell chris about this.

you're in love. [🎧🍁]

Chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.

[ blurbs ]

ballerina!reader getting high without dealer!chris. [🎧]

[ hc's and moodboard ]

ballerina & dealer headcannons. [🎧🍁🎃]

ballerina & dealer moodboards.

꩜ matt sturniolo.

[ fanfics ]

king of everything. [🎧]

Y/N is sick and Matt wants to take care of her, but she keep trying to push him away.

[ blurbs ]

hold me while i cry. [🎧🍁]

꩜ madison beer.

[ fanfics ]

show me (how i feel in love with you). [🎧🍁🎃]

How Y/N and Madison fall in love with each other.

nothing matters but you. [🎧🍁]

Madison takes off her girlfriend while she's sick.

soft launch. [🎧]

Y/N have been in a comfortable and private relationship, but after being seen together they decided to do a soft launch.

aftercare. [🎃🎧]

Madison taking care of Y/N after sex.

make you mine. [🎃]

Y/N have been dealing with a bad mental health, because of the college and work. Madison wants to take care of her. Plus she never had a sexual experience before and Madison wants to make her first time special.

[ blurbs ]

madison taking care of Y/N when she have bad cramps. [🎧]

madison meeting your baby daughter for the first time. [🎧]

Y/N's daughter calls Madison mom for the first time. [🎧]

[ hc's and moodboard ]

madison beer headcannons. [🎧]

Madison date Y/N and she's an actress.

[marvelsgirl616]

╰•★★ OBX: RC/DS ★★•╯

⤷ •• fics:

- possessed.

- NSFW 💭🔥: one.

⤷ •• icons:

- season one: one. | two. | three.

- season two: one. | two | three | four. | five. | six. | seven. | rarry | eight. | nine. |

⤷ •• prompts/visuals:

- stalker!rafe vis. | stalker!rafeu vis. 2 | rafe hanging out with the pogues. | giving rafe a bj | rafe & ward | shopping w/ rafe | rafe on his knees | motorcycle ride w/ rafe |

⤷ ••• biker!rafe masterlist: link.

⤷ ••• dark/obsessedrafe! vis. •••

-> if I can’t have you then no one can.

-> i’d let the world burn for you.

••• drew/rafe smutty visuals:

- vid of drew saying “oh fuck”

- rafe/drews hands: num. 1 | num. 2

⤷ ••• rafe angsty visuals:

- one. |

( sarah & rafe meme ) incorrect rarry

— bts pics: diff pics. bts. | drew & rudy | charles & drew.

— pics: happy/sad |

— videos: drew & chase dancing | drew 1. | tiktok of drew + nicholas |

[allisluv]

setting time aside tomorrow to work on some of my one shots and fics! feel free to send in headcanons or your thoughts in the meantime <3

[eviesaurusrex]

Okay just because we talked about this earlier- Harry doing soft stuff to you while cuddling. Ugh too cute

Asking for fluffy prompts to write them was definitely not entirely self-indulgent, nope :x

warnings: none, pure fluff

word count: 754

***

It was one of those nights after one of his concerts where neither of them wanted to go to bed. She was familiar with those by now after spending almost the entire length of Harry’s tour at his side, and she never complained because so, she got uninterrupted time with the man she had learned to love even more with every passing day. Gladly, he was happily and contently unaware of the intensity of her feelings for his very being; the fear of scaring him away boiled in her body, too blinding and anxiety-inducing that she couldn’t even try to find the right words.

Sometimes it was a curse to feel so deeply and all-consuming, at least in her eyes.

Slowly blinking, she was pulled out of her head by Harry’s warm hand, which had rested unmoving on the small of her back but started to wander over the fabric of one of his shirts YN had cheekily stolen after their post-show routine. A soft grin had been thrown her way by the man who had watched her getting cozy—as usual—and which had made her blush like a foolish schoolgirl. YN hummed softly at the feeling of his palm gently rubbing over the entirety of her back before Harry moved his hand a bit and started to trace indecipherable shapes, always following the length of her spine.

“H?”

Now it was his turn to hum lowly in question but didn’t let his fingertips stop in their quest to cover her back with shapeless letters and magical forms. He could be conjuring a portal, and she wouldn’t suspect anything.

“What-… what are you doing?”

YN could already feel the lulling effect his doings possessed, like a spell specially created for her weary mind after another long day filled with sightseeing and an exciting show at the end. It certainly didn’t help that Harry had started to press tender, featherlike kisses all over her forehead and cheek closest to him, reminding her of the wings of a butterfly. If she didn’t know the feeling of those kisses, she would easily miss them.

Harry’s other hand now pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek gently, his thumb slowly and almost lazily stroking over her cheekbone, all the while his fingers still traced invisible patterns on her back. With heavy-growing eyelids, YN looked up at his handsome face, gracing a loving smile as he looked down at the woman in his arms, with one of her legs comfortably tangled between his. A brow was barely raised, and the only thing the singer could do at this moment was to kiss the cute tip of her nose.

“Nothin’, darlin’. Just wanted to make you feel good, that’s all.”

YN smiled at that and sighed deeply, contently, and nudged his chin with her nose, making him kiss her forehead another time. “You always make me feel good, baby,” she whispered against his inviting neck, snuggling closer into his side, fingers gripping into the hoodie he had thrown over earlier and which had made him look so cozy and cuddle-able. She could feel his soft laugh more than she heard it as sleep sneakily tried to get a hold of her, but his voice prevented her from surrendering. “It’s all I ever want. Makin’ you feel safe and loved because—because I do. So incredibly much. Barely can find the words for it.”

He was sure YN was sleeping as he muttered those words into the dimly lit hotel suite, thinking only the still-running telly caught up to his confession, which had been on his mind for months. But the feeling of her head peeking up from the spot at his neck where she loved to snuggle up gave his heart a push, letting it race inside his chest. Her tired eyes studied his face slowly, probably noticing the shock swimming in his eyes, while his hand still drew patterns on her back because he just couldn’t stop the things he knew she liked.

“Y’love me?” The surprise in her voice almost offended him. “Was I so obvious, hm?” The grin tucked at his lips as he watched her comprehend his words before she just snuggled back into the crook of his neck, his arms instinctively wrapping around her body, fingers combing through her hair. “Love you too, H. So, so much. Never stop. This and loving me.” And he didn’t, her words muffled by his skin and the sleep creeping up on her, which he happily assisted.

***

Send me prompts!

[sourholland]

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → part two!! how this played out was debated for awhile honestly. i hope you guys enjoy and start to understand a little more of the dynamic we’re looking at here. as always, feedback is heavily heavily appreciated and let’s me know you want more. let me know to be added to the taglist! ALSO - a lot of people who commented on part 1 to be added to the taglist don’t have it turned on in settings where i’m able to tag them, so i couldn’t. i won’t be going back through several parts to find your @ so you’ll need to fix it and comment again if you want to be on the taglist in the future.

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → alcohol use, strong language, nsfw content

word count → 3.3k

remember to reblog and leave a comment if you enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 2

Ever since the spontaneous car hookup earlier in the week, things had been a sort of comfortably complicated. Joe had driven you to pick up your car, half hard watching your legs cross so delicately as if he hadn’t just ripped your panties off in the backseat. It was more than a turn on for him.

It was a still silence all the way back to the practice facility. He kissed your cheek and told you to have a goodnight, then you grabbed your cheer bag and had gone home. Joe waited to see if he’d hear from you, wanting to see where you stood on the matter before he pushed his way into your space. He was giving you an out if you wanted it.

You wanted to want it.

It was so wrong. You were breaking the biggest rule imposed on you. Yet, you couldn’t. So you didn’t. It took until mid-afternoon the next day when you texted him to get his actual phone number, the texting exclusively through instagram private message felt a little middle school. He happily obliged, not wanting to pressure you into anything.

The conversation was casual, nothing pertaining to the subject of you fucking in the backseat of his Porsche. The only discussion of that was via Venmo, when he sent you money for a Plan B without question. You hadn’t even requested the money, he just let you know through the transaction that he didn’t want to act entitled to knowing if you were on contraception.

He didn’t know why he was so enamored by you. Joe had a very fuck boy-ish college career, he’d done his fair share of sleeping around and having women throw themselves at him. Some would say this has given him a big ego, he partially agreed. It was never about the hookup culture, though. It was more so just what he thought was right for a college athlete, it was what all his friends had done. He’d broken some hearts, for that he wasn’t proud. It was a time in his life that he was focused on two things: football and partying.

It was pretty obvious that you were the opposite to him. He had done a little social media stalking to find out a little more about the so-called rookie Ben-Gal. Just through instagram he saw that you were a very spirited girl during high school, it seemed like you had a serious boyfriend through most of those four years. He sort of disappeared when you came to the University of Cincinnati.

He wondered if he was your first love. Joe hadn’t ever been able to recall a first love for himself. There had been plenty of girls, he just didn’t ever feel like it was love.

He saw that you had maintained the good girl persona through college too. He was shocked that you’d never joined a sorority. Joe came to realize that you really were just a dedicated student athlete through and through. How you ended up as a Bengals cheerleader? He wasn’t sure.

Joe: What’re you up to tonight?

He typed the message out without thinking much of it, it’d been days since you’d last been together. He hadn’t pushed anything since the car incident. He hung back after practice and watched you rehearse the dance choreography for the preseason that would begin in a few days.

Y/N: Not sure yet

Y/N: Why?

He didn’t really know why. Joe wasn’t so selfish that he wanted to get you in trouble for hanging around him. He just wanted to see you.

Joe: I want to see you.

This was a surprise to you. Not that Joe seemed like the type to sleep with a girl and ghost, but he did kind of seem like the type of guy to do that. He was so charming, though. Everything he said to you sent your stomach into somersaults.

Y/N: Do you?

Joe: I really do

Joe: How do you feel about dive bars?

Y/N: LMAOO

When he didn’t respond to that, you realized he wasn’t kidding when he asked you that. Without thinking much, you laughed and began to type again.

Y/N: Oh shit, you’re serious

Y/N: Can’t say I’m very familiar with the scene lol

Joe: Really?

Y/N: I mean, I just turned 21, I don’t really go to frat parties at school. I really only drink with friends. Haven’t been to many bars.

Joe: Fair enough. I know a spot outside of Cincinnati. It’s pretty small, usually pretty deserted. The crowd is older.

This made you nervous, being in public and easily spotted with Joe made you nervous. It wasn’t the fact that anyone would know who you were, being an NFL cheerleader didn’t make you a celebrity. It was more so the possibility of someone snapping a picture of Joe with you in it, Joe is a celebrity and he’s extremely recognizable.

Y/N: Joe, I really don’t want all this to get back to my coaches. It only takes one person to fuck this all up for me before the season even starts..

Joe: I get that. I’m telling you, nobody here is going to be a problem.

-

In between finishing up your hair and adding a red lip tint, you heard a knock on your apartment door. That would definitely be Joe. He’d insisted on coming up to grab you when picking you up, something about being raised decent.

You’d slipped into a navy blue miniskirt and white ribbed tank top. It seemed like the simplest thing for going out to a hole-in-the-wall bar.

“You’re punctual,” you laughed as you opened the door to reveal Joe in a pair of khakis and t-shirt.

“You look,” Joe began, scanning your figure. “I mean you look really great, Y/N.”

He couldn’t help but think about your reddened lips. He didn’t know where the both of you stood on a lot of things, this made him hold back some of what he wished to say.

“Thank you,” your face flushed at his comments.

Both of you just kinda stood there in the doorway for a moment, grinning like high schoolers after their first kiss. Joe’s cheeks were pink, his hands shoved in his pockets as he watched you retrieve your clutch. His eyes fell to the way your ass looked in that skirt on more than one occasion, or more specifically what it would look like out of that skirt.

“Ready?” You asked.

Joe nodded and you headed down to the complex’s garage. It was a comfortable walk, filled with you having the inability to tear your gaze from his toned arms and back. He definitely noticed you staring, grinning each time he caught you from the corner of his eye.

He opened the passenger side door for you, walking around and getting in himself. He looked so fucking good. There was just something about an attractive guy driving, but Joe took it to a whole different level. He pushed his hand through his hair and backed out seamlessly.

Some A$AP Rocky song was playing in the background as you looked out the window at the lit up city. Joe drummed along the steering wheel. It was obvious every time he attempted to slyly glance at the skirt riding up your thighs.

“How do you think this game in a few days will go?” You said softly.

“Hard to say,” Joe replied. “It’s preseason, so technically it doesn’t matter. To the team it matters, though. Losing these early games give guys like Skip Bayless a reason to rip us apart before the season even starts.”

“You listen to stuff like that?”

“It’s hard not to, they practically shove it down our throats the entire season. Last season was tough, not winning the Super Bowl.”

“You made it, though,” you said. “Counts for something.”

He looked at you, smiling softly and glancing at your lips briefly. Once his eyes were back on the road, you took the opportunity to brush a hand over his arm. He let a deep breath out, chuckling a little. The tension was thick, both of you tiptoeing around the fact that you wanted so desperately to rip the other’s clothes off.

He let you touch him, obviously enjoying it. Maybe he wanted to see how far you’d take it, maybe you wanted to see how far you’d take it. Letting your hand fall to his thigh, you used your thumb to brush over the fabric softly. His breathing became a bit unsteady, eyes flickering to you every few seconds.

When you inched closer to his erection, you gave him a look as if to ask for permission. He nodded, groaning soon after you began to palm him through his pants. He was hard, aching for anything you would give him. You felt yourself heating up, surprised by your own actions when you began to undo the button on his pants, unzipping them and assisting in pulling them down ever so slightly.

He was still driving, eyes very focused on the road now. You let yourself begin to palm him through his briefs now, watching him yearn for your touch more and more.

Joe was driving down a long stretch, the road was deserted and only occupied by him as far as he could see. High beams on, he wondered if he should pull over and fuck you then and there. Or maybe he should see where you were going with this.

“Is this okay?” You asked him, looking up.

“Yeah, more than okay,” he breathed out.

Pulling down his briefs, you tried to maneuver your body into a comfortable position. He was hard in your hand, precum gleaming at the tip. As you let yourself take him in your mouth, he let out a guttural moan. With one hand on the wheel, another found the back of your head and weaved its way into your hair.

This was definitely unsafe.

With your knees bent towards him, your ass was in the air as he started to steadily pace you. He thrusted into your mouth, telling you not to stop. Using your tongue to your advantage, you used your hand to pump where you couldn’t reach.

“Good girl, fuck,” he praised you. “Just like that, I really don’t want to crash this car.”

Trying to push him to the back of your throat, you made sure to take it slow. While this was incredibly hot and sexy, Joe was right. One wrong move, he’s crashing you both into a tree.

Letting yourself release him from your mouth, you used your saliva as a lubricant and pumped your hand over top of his shaft. He was breathing hard, letting you gain composure before your mouth was on him again. He couldn’t take it, the way you swirled your tongue to hit every single nerve. It was only when he began to enter the small downtown area that he realized he’d have to forfeit this without finishing.

Pulling up, you wiped your chin and helped him to get his pants done up. This was a space with a decent number of other cars and stoplights. Last thing either of you needed was someone snapping a picture of Joe receiving a blowjob at a red light or something.

You both laughed a little, Joe still very worked up and giving you the side eye. Pulling down the sun visor, you looking into the tiny mirror and realized your red lip had become all smudged. You went into your clutch and grabbed the tint stick out, applying it evenly.

This only turned Joe on more, watching you as he drove down the tiny street. There seemed to be a lot of brick buildings, some people out and about. It was late, though. He pulled into a small side lot, saying this was it.

Stepping out of the car was a breath of fresh air, it had been very hot and sticky after you decided to blow him. Joe adjusted himself, rolling his eyes when you smirked at him. He held a hand out to you, making your cheeks heat up ever so slightly. Then he pulled you down some cellar like set of steps, pushing a heavy green door open to reveal a dimly lit bar. It was a room of purple hues, lights strung up with music playing. There were a few older people, like three or four. All of the bar seats were empty.

“Come sit,” Joe brought you over.

The bartender was easily seventy, she had red hair that was pulled back tightly and an apron tied to her waist. She smiled at you, the tag on her shirt read ‘Jenny’.

“What can I get you tonight?” She asked, looking at the two of you.

“I’ll have a Blue Moon,” he told her.

“I’ll just have a vodka tonic.”

The woman didn’t ask for any ID, she just nodded and smiled. Joe glanced at you, looking around the space and chuckling. You leaned against the bar, taking a sip of your drink as she placed it down. Joe followed suit, talking to you mindlessly about practice.

“Oh my god, it’s Maggie May!” You said over the music, eyes wide when you grabbed Joe and pulled him to the empty space at the middle of the bar.

“What’re you doing?” He laughed.

“We’re dancing!” You smiled, letting him take you by the waist.

He was laughing as you swayed around, spinning in his arms and singing the lyrics as if you were performing them for him. He eventually gained the courage to take your hands and go back and forth a little. The few people occupying the bar watched and whistled, clearly not used to the display.

Taking you in his arms, Joe kissed you sweetly. Watching as you gallivanted him around a little, trying very hard to spin him yourself. Didn’t work very easily when your dance partner was 6’4.

“Oh Maggie I couldn’t have tried anymore! You led me away from home, ‘cause you didn’t want to be alone! You stole my heart, I couldn’t leave you if I tried,” you sang the 70s ballad at him with a large smile.

“You’re beautiful!” He told you over the music.

You both swayed for a moment or so, flustered and laughing at yourselves. Once the song ended, the three or four people watching chuckled with you. Talking about how they remembered when that song had come out.

When you returned to you seats at the bar, you both drank for awhile and made small talk about life. Joe brushed a piece of hair that had fallen in your face back, making you smile and lean in to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I like hanging out with you,” you confessed.

It felt like such a small statement, something a sixteen year old would utter to her crush. It was how you felt, though. Joe lit up some suppressed youth within you, he made you feel like a young girl just coming into herself. He was older than you, more mature, well established. It made you question what he saw in you in the first place.

“I like hanging out with you too,” he said in almost a whisper. “I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta use the bathroom.”

Nodding, he walked to the back of the bar. He left his phone face up. His wallpaper was a photo of him and Ja’Marr Chase at the Super Bowl last season. It was sweet, they seemed very close.

A minute or so passed and his phone went off with two texts, one after the other. It felt disrespectful to glance and read them, but anyone would’ve. He left his phone when he could’ve easily grabbed it.

Ava: Missing you.

Ava: Come over?

There was a sudden lurching in your stomach, like you were going to be sick or something. The feeling lasted for a few seconds, leaving you to pull out your own phone and open the Uber app.

“How much was the tab?” You asked the woman, handing her your card and signing all within the span of about a minute.

“You alright, honey?” She asked, watching you grab your clutch to leave.

No.

“Yes, I’m alright.”

Walking out the same way you came in was easy enough, the Uber would be a few minutes so you’d have to wait outside. You were angry, of course, but more so just hurt and upset over the fact that you thought he was actually interested in you.

This was your fault. Your own naive stupidity. This was a twenty five year old NFL quarterback, what the fuck would he want with you? Sex, clearly. That much was obvious. In the end, Joe wasn’t your boyfriend. Not at all, not even a little bit. He was some guy who you barely knew, some guy you’d maybe even misjudged a little bit.

Leaning against the brick of the building, you felt the tears begin to well up. How could you be so fucking stupid?

“Y/N?” Joe came up the steps. “What’s wrong? What’re you doing?”

“Fuck you, Joe,” you sighed into your hands. “I mean seriously, what the fuck do you get out of stringing me along while you’ve already clearly got a girlfriend or a fuck buddy at least!”

He looked confused, a line forming between his eyebrows when suddenly realization washed over him. He got sort of pale all of sudden, embarrassment flushing his face.

“Y/N, it’s not like that. I promise you, it’s not like that with her. There’s more to the situation—”

“Go to hell, Joe,” you sniffled. “Or better, go see Ava. She misses you.”

He stood there silent for a moment, unable to find the words to express how sorry he was for how he made you feel. He could see through the yellow hue of the streetlight that you were crying. His fingernails dug into the flesh of his palm, cursing himself for not bringing his phone into the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, you’re sorry I saw,” you spit back. “Get the fuck away from me, Joe. I’m taking an Uber home.”

“Let me drive you home, at least. If you never want to speak to me again after that, okay. Just let me take you home.”

When you said nothing, he knew that was it. He’d have to accept defeat there. Anything he said would make it worse, seeing as there really wasn’t a way to make the situation better. There was no excuse, no way to make you see his point of view.

The silence between you was hard and rigid, the only sound being the ambiance of the outside and your occasional sniffling. The worst part was that he’d led you to believe he liked you. That was why it hurt so badly.

The sleek black SUV pulled up and you pushed off the wall you’d been leaning against. Not being able to bear giving Joe a second glance, you went straight to opening the door and hopping inside.

Joe didn’t try and stop you. It wasn’t his place. He only stood there under the streetlight, watching the car drive off and eventually disappear. He felt horrible, running a hand through his hair and walking towards the brick you’d just leaned against. Pressing his forehead to the cold structure, he tried to bring himself to some conclusion.

“Fuck,” was all he muttered.

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