#i can’t believe i’m genuinely enjoying x reader fics

[pitrsattabhaadmeinjaa]

i finally get what the girlies were on about (not telling you which girlies that’s a little too much info)

micheal gavey fanfictions are now my religion

[allbark-no-bite]

don’t write checks you can’t cash.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 3.6k)

summary: jake seresin is under your skin. or maybe you’re under his. either way you’re going to eat each other alive. jake isn’t about to take the fall

warnings: mentioned age gap, heavy sexual tension (the smut is coming i promise)

author’s note: back on my topgun bullshit bitches (respectfully). i’m not usually one for multi part fics but i actually wrote something with plot for once so please just bear with me. loosely inspired by Zach Bryan’s ‘nineball’. please note this fic title is subject to change bc i hate it

(you can read part 2 here!)

————————————————————————

You don't believe in love at first sight. You think the whole concept is some foolish idea that people who have already fallen in love have the liberty of saying they believe in. Then people who have been through failed relationship after failed relationship are convinced that they're never going to fall in love because it just doesn't happen. The whole idea pretty much just sets the rest of the population up for failure from the start.

Even the concept of finding the right person one day and growing to love them is hard for you to grasp. Because how can you love someone that much? How do you know you love them enough?There are some days that you don't enjoy the presence of even your closest friends for very long, friends who you would do anything for. Even family, you only tolerated so much.

Your high school boyfriend hated that about you, the fact that you realistically needed so little of him—or anyone for that matter. You have always been violently independent, able to provide what you require, and therefore having to maintain a simplistic relationship became nothing but a monotonous task. Even most of your closest friendships faded with time.

Eventually, you prosed the question: what can someone else give me that I cannot give myself?

The answer was companionship. Because when you strip away everything from a person and all they have left to offer you is themself, you have to be willing to choose them. And sometimes that's not the most appealing quality.

Something did happen, the first time you made eye contact with Lt. Jake Seresin, but it was far from love. It was something terrible in your chest, like an aching. Like you knew in your gut that he was going to change your life. Good or bad, you didn't know, but it was certain to happen.

You don't even believe that you two were destined to meet — you just happened to, and in that moment, the damage was done, it was your fate to ruin each other.

——

You like the way he says your name. You like that he says your name on purpose, like he is intentionally seeking out reasons to say it. It's not as harsh sounding coming from his mouth.

"You from around here, [L/n]?"

You're wiping down the glass hatch of your F/A-18 when he approaches you from behind. You swivel your head to catch sight of him behind your back but he's already making a wide circle around you, his chin tipping up then down as he inspects your plane from behind his tinted aviators.

As you watch him scrutinize your aircraft, you regard him with a certain level of apprehension. Jake Seresin was nothing short of gorgeous. He was six feet of bronze skin and lean muscle, withbright green eyes, and a movie star smile. Not to mention the southern accent that had girls drooling over him.

"Austin," you correct him. "Austin, Texas."

You'd been transferred over to Miramar a little over a month ago, becoming the newest addition to the Dagger squad. California was a nice change of scenery, and everyone you had met so far had welcomed you with open arms. That is, everyone but Lt. Seresin— Hangman as they called him. You were still trying to find your footing with him.

You genuinely don't know what his problem is with you. The guy had hardly even given you a glance since the moment you'd arrived. Your first guess would have been that he was one of those dickheads who didn't like women working in the field, but his relationship with Phoenix disproved that theory.

Your answer seems to warrant his attention, and he looks up. His expression twitches at the correction but he doesn't say anything in response. For the first time since you arrived at Miramar, still, unsmiling green eyes catch yours from across the aircraft.

You hold his gaze. After a moment, your stomach twists in an unsettling way, like even it doesn't know what to do with itself. Your first instinct is to look away. Your brain is telling you that if you do, you can avoid any sort of confrontation that may happen as a result. But it's like you can't.

This is the first time he's looked at you, and now you don't dare to look away.

Even from behind the tint of his perfectly polished aviators, you can make out the distinct color of his green eyes. They're so distracting that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

After what feels like eons of uncomfortable staring, he breaks your gaze —surely it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds. Flustered, you glance around to see if anyone else has picked up on the affair. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you're not quite sure which, it's nearing 6pm and the base is on the better side of empty. It's a Friday evening and everyone is eager to head out for the weekend.

Someone clears their throat. Hangman is still standing there, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn't have anywhere better to be. You want to say something but your gut is telling you that there's some sort of game going on here and you're not sure of the rules.

Finally, he faintly nods his head, as if to excuse himself, and turns to walk away. You watch his retreating back and relax a little, breathing a bit easier.

As you're turning back to your plane, relieved that the interaction is over, you hear him call back over his shoulder.

“The team is heading to the Hard Deck at nine. Don't be late."

And then he's gone, disappeared between one of the hangars.

——

For nine thirty on a Friday evening, the bar isn't nearly as busy as you'd expected it to be. You don't have to fight for a parking spot out front and there's not even a line at the bar. Other than a rowdy looking gaggle accumulating at the pool table, the atmosphere is pretty laid back. Looking around as you walk further in, there is a handful of people in civilians, but the majority of the crowd is composed of off duty aviators in their summer khakis.

You're about to head over to the bar top, where you were sure you had spotted Captain Mitchell, when someone shouts your name.

"Hawk!"

Your head swivels at the sound of your callsign, and you catch sight of Rooster beckoning to you over at the pool table. Immediately you recognize the familiar faces of the Dagger squad around him. You acknowledge him with a smile and head over to join them.

“And here we thought you were going to be a no-show," the brunette pilot chirps, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as soon as you're close enough. You lean into his embrace while touching his chest with a friendly pat of your hand. Bradley is by no means close to drunk but most definitely more than a little buzzed if you're going off of the smell of beer and lime on his breath and the occasional involuntary twitch of his mustache.

"I thought about it, but I can't keep letting you guys have all the fun," you laugh, holding out your other arm so that you can greet Natasha with a hug as Rooster releases you.

After hugging you, she presses a sweating bottle of beer into your hand. "Coyote bought everyone a round so I figured I'd save you one before the boys wiped them out. Sorry if it's a bit warm, you did show up fashionably late."

You playfully roll your eyes at her, taking the beer anyhow. "Thanks, Phe."

Payback places a large palm on the top of your head, diverting your attention towards him as he returns from the bar. "Don't let her fool you, we're just getting started over here. Rooster isn't even drunk enough to get on the piano yet."

Laughing, you glance over at the brunette aviator. "Now that I've been waiting to see. I hear you're quite the show, Bradshaw."

Since you transferred over to Miramar, you had been hounded nonstop to go out drinking with the team for weeks, and Rooster's infamous performance had been one of their key selling points. That and the fact that the owner, Penny, often gave them free drinks. Apparently she had a thing for Captain Mitchell.

Rooster grins, leaning against the pool stick in his hand as he waits for Fanboy to take his shot. "Let me get a couple more beers deep and I promise you won't be disappointed."

As you go about making your rounds to greet everyone else, you can't help but notice that there's someone missing. After you take a seat beside Bob to watch Rooster and Fanboy play, you glance around the bar a few times, convinced that you've somehow overlooked him despite the fact that the place isn't busy enough for that.

An almost disappointed feeling pulls at you despite how ridiculous the realization makes you feel.

After spending the better part of an half hour trying to push the feeling away, you finally spot a familiar head of blonde hair over at the dartboard. He's by himself, about three darts in and half a bottle of beer down. So much for the personal invitation, you think.

You watch as he throws a dart, practically without so much as aiming whilst contemplating whether or not you even have it in you to muster up the courage to face those green eyes again.

Without giving yourself the chance to back down, you swallow back the rest of your now warm beer and head over.

He tosses another dart just as you reach him, and it finds itself dead center with the previous three.

"With a hand like that, you should be kicking Rooster's ass over there in pool," you say as you come to a stop behind him.

Walking away from the dartboard, Jake turns to grab his bottle of beer from the table beside you.

"I'm not much of a betting man," he huffs, leaning back against the table. The muscles of his biceps bugle distractingly against the sleeves of his uniform.

You look back over your shoulder, watching from a distance as Fanboy's cue clips the eight ball and sends it ricocheting off the sidewall. He groans, and Rooster whoops triumphantly from behind him.

"It wouldn't be much of a bet. Even with his winning streak, I think you'd give him a run for his money."

Hangman takes a sip from his bottle, mouth lingering on the rim before he sets it back down and crosses his arms. "Rooster's all luck and no skill. The table's got a lean."

You raise your eyebrows at the confession, half laughing at his lax confidence. "Oh? And you would know this how?"

"C'mon, son. Fuckin' hit it in."

Body tense, his arm quivers ever so slightly and the pool stick bobs shakily in his hand. He closes his eyes and takes a breath in.

"I haven't got all day, kid."

He breathes out and breathes back in. The smell of cigar smoke and cheap beer swims in his head.

"What're you doin'?! Quit wastin' time."

He exhales, opens his eyes, and hits the pool stick forward. The white cue ball shoots out to the left, bounces against the eight ball, and sends it hurdling towards the side pocket. At the very last moment, it veers off to the left and falls into  the back corner pocket instead.

The man standing on the other side of the table curses, his pool stick dropping to the ground, but Jake pays little mind to him. He straightens, looking around eagerly for the only set of eyes that matter. The grin falls from his face when he realizes the old man isn't even watching, too busy counting out his prize money and yanking out a ten to hand to the bartender.

Jake looks up at the clock on the wall over his shoulder.

12:57 am

"Dad, I wanna go home."

"Not yet, son. I've already got fifty put down on another round."

"Want me to show you?"

His offer makes you pause, and you can't help but cock your head a bit as you try to weigh out just where this is heading. For weeks he has acted as though you barely even existed and now you're engaged in the longest conversion the two of you have had since your arrival.

Jake finishes his drink and sets the bottle down whilst walking over to you. "Final offer. Take it or leave it."

You laugh a little before stepping back so that he can make his way to the pool table. "Lead the way then." But before you can make it too far, his palm finds the flat of your back, pressing you forward so that you're in front of him. You're glad he can't see you because your face flashes hot at the unexpected contact.

"I'm not the one playing, kid. I'm just going to show you the ropes."

"Oh, I didn't-"

Any objections you have about the situation are ignored as he pushes you firmly in the direction of the pool table and asks Payback for his cue. "Look alive, Bradshaw. Hawk is about to show you how this thing is done."

Straightening his wide shoulders, Bradley grins, smug and easy as you and Hangman approach the opposite side of the table. "And here I thought you were here to reclaim your throne now that I'm intoxicated."

Jake grins back. "You don't need to be drunk for me to do that."

Bradley's mustache twitches, but he's still smiling. "Sure."

Jake turns back to you, placing the pool stick in your hand. You can't help but think that his expression is all too confident for someone who has never even seen you play pool.

"Nervous?" he asks as you take the stick from him.

"Should I be?" you ask back, turning your head to watch as Rooster takes the liberty of breaking the rack.

He shakes his head, his green eyes glowing with a warmth that you've yet to see from him. "Not as long as you don't totally suck."

Seeing that it's your turn, you brush past him to stand at the table. "I guess I'll let you be the judge of that."

Thankfully you've played your fair share of pool and so you're able to hold your own for most of the game. Jake remains criminally silent as you play, arms once again crossed as he leans against a nearby stool, but you can feel his gaze burning into your back the entire time. It isn't until the end of the game and you've missed the same ball multiple times that he steps in.

"Shift left," he directs you. When you glance over at him, he nods his head as if to insinuate where you should move but doesn't move from where he's planted himself since the beginning of the game.

Hesitantly, you shuffle over a half step and take the shot. The ball comes closer than you have been but still hits the sidewall just short of the pocket. You huff in frustration, and Rooster steps forward to take his turn, sinking his second to last ball in the same pocket.

"I hope you're ready to buy the next round, Seresin. Looks like Hawk is losing her nerve," Bradley goads, unable to keep himself from boasting a little at your expense. When it comes to Hangman, he can't resist the chance to taunt him.

You roll your eyes at his comment, not bothered so much by it as compared to the fact that you're losing. When it's your turn again, you line up the ball and lean down to assume your position when Jake stops you.

All the sudden he's right beside you, palm pressing into your hip to scoot you to the side. "Move over." When you look at him like he's crazy, he huffs. "C'mon, do you want my help or not?"

It isn't so much of a question as it is a statement and the press of his hand against your side doesn't leave you much of an option and so you shuffle over to the far right side of the pool table.

Before you can even comprehend what's going on, he's leant over you, his impossibly tall frame pressed to your back so that he can reach around you and guide your hands. One wraps around your hand on the stick and the other cups your opposite elbow.

It takes everything in you not to jerk away, overwhelmed by his sudden proximity. Instead you try to focus on controlling your hammering heart and pray he can't tell how clammy your palms suddenly are.

"Hey, that's not allowed," Rooster complains. "Is that allowed?"

Coyote shrugs. "It's not not allowed."

Distracted by their bickering, his voice in your ear nearly makes you jump. "Hit the cue ball. Hard."

The lean press of his body is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he's done a god awful job of lining up the shot. There's not one alternate reality where you make this shot.

"You can't be serious."

He's so close that you feel him smile beside your ear. "Dead."

"Any day now," Rooster prompts, as if you aren't aware that Jake Seresin has been pressed against you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. And if Hangman has noticed the fact that your heart is fluttering erratically inside your chest or that your skin is flushed hot to the touch, he doesn't let on. 

"I'm waiting," he reminds you, his voice placid in your ear.

Against your better judgement, you take the shot.

The white cue ball hurtles into the black eight ball with a hard clack and sends it flying across the table. It smashes against the sidewall, exactly as you had expected it to, and you release a breath of defeat. And then something unexpected happens. The ball slows, but instead of bouncing to a stop, it continues to roll left across the table. You all watch as it rolls directly into back corner pocket of the table.

"Well I'll be damned," Payback mutters aloud.

"Hell yeah, [L/n]!" Phoenix shouts, her loud and robust voice ringing out across the bar. "Shots are on Bradshaw!"

"Thanks buddy," Coyote laughs, teasingly grabbing the back of the brunette aviator's shoulders as he heads off for the bar.

Bradley waves them off, looking a bit miffed but still good naturedly accepting his defeat.

"How about it? You're a cold blooded killer."

Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head, the sound of Hangman's voice coming from behind you jerks you back to reality. You haven't even noticed that he'd stepped away. Something inside you twinges at the loss of his body pressed against yours.

You turn around to face him, your brain still trying to comprehend what just happened.

"How'd you do that?" you ask incredulously, your tone almost accusing. A deeper part of you wants to ask 'why did you do that' but the smile on his face stops you.

His top row of pearly white teeth that you glimpse is pristine, however brief, before his pink lips come back together in a more subdued smile. It's an expression that is so very genuine and carefree that it sends a spark straight through to your heart. You've never seen him actually smile before, and especially not at you.

"You're smiling," you accuse before you can stop the words from coming out of your mouth, half giddy at the discovery yourself.

Jake looks slightly away, turning his head briefly in order to suppress his smile before looking back to you. “Yeah? So?” His green eyes are twinkling as he says it, like he knows he’s been caught.

You jab the short end of the pool stick into the center of his chest, but he’s quick to grab it before it can find home.

“Up until yesterday, you could barely stand to even look at me,” you say.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s not true.”

“So you’re saying that I’m seeing things.” You try to tug back on the pool stick but Hangman doesn’t release it.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be seeing things.”

With that, a larger portion of the previous smile is gone from his face, a more sober look replacing it.

Just like that the spark fades. Even though you want to shut down, turn your back to his face and just walk away. You force yourself to keep talking, holding your voice steady. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

Inside you know exactly what he means.

His eyes flicker up over your shoulder but the Dagger squad has already moved on to crowd around Rooster at the piano.

You clamp your jaw together as he releases the pool cue and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It makes him look more relaxed than he is.

"Look, whatever this is—whatever you think I am, I'm not." He says this with the realistic conviction of someone who knows that even if it is, you can't. He says it like he’s trying to convince himself.

You’re not quite sure how old he is—barely thirty if you had to guess— but he’s older. Too old. Not to mention fraternization is deeply frowned upon.

"I know," you answer firmly. Because you do. Because even if it isn't, you want it, whatever it is.

He stares down at you with those green eyes, his pupils pinpoint sharp. After a moment he heaves a sigh and releases it, nodding his head. “So we’re in agreement?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “We’re in agreement.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

[formulafics]

★ ALL THE RUMORS ARE TRUE | DR3

Scenario: in which ferrari’s favorite girl has thing for redbull’s favorite aussie, and has no shame in it. — a social media au

Pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

A/N: Here is the second and last part to this fic! I hope you enjoy, and i’m sorry that I had to split the posts but i’ve tried tumblr on a computer and I just can’t get used to it. Also, this is my first time making the fake tweets so please ignore the little mistakes 😭

PART ONE | PART TWO -> Keep Reading

yn_ferrari

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, redbullracing, georgerussel63, and 457,389 others

yn_ferrari While I don’t normally post about other drivers victories, I wanted to congratulate @/danielricciardo today! An absolutely epic win, and most definitely deserved one. So proud of you. Ily ❤️

danielricciardo Thank you so much, yn. It’s an honor to be on the same track as you. Ily more!

norrisnation what does this mean? daniel-yn confirmed?

⤷ f1obssessed i mean…between her tweet, this post, and daniel’s response, i’d say it’s obvious

liked by yn_ferrari

⤷ mv1defender i need y’all to be fr. she’s literally just congratulating him on a win and y’all have your panties in a twist

⤷ levelupleclerc the only other person she’s congratulated like this was charles, and we know they’re close so i’d say, based off of the other stuff, this is just another sign that she and daniel are more than friends

charles_leclerc sad to see that i’m not the only driver you congratulated anymore

⤷ yn_ferrari you may not be the only one, but you were the first one 😌

yn_ferrari

liked by danielricciardo, lando.jpg, charles_leclerc, georgerussel63, logansargeant, and 657,351 more

yn_ferrari Happy one year to my most favorite human! I love you more than anything. I cant believe I managed to keep my mouth shut this whole time, but i’m so glad that I get to make posts like these now. Many more to come, and many more years with you, honey.

danielricciardo Who’s cutting onions in the redbull meeting room? I love you so much, baby.

⤷ dannyricworld IM GONNA SOB this is so sweet

landonorris A year of being a third wheel. Can’t believe I made it. Congratulations to you both ❤️

liked by charles_leclerc and maxverstappen1

formulaoneacc idk about you guys, but they are my parents

ynswife A YEAR? A YEAR? AND WE ONLY GENUINELY STARTED THINK YOU GUYS WERE TOGETHER A FEW WEEKS AGO?

⤷ gpierre10 idk who “we” is, but i’ve been calling this since october last year

⤷ levelupleclerc LITERALLY. i’ve been rooting for them since the beginning

[thewulf]

It Matters || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was thinking of a jake x reader fic, were the reader believes her opinion doesn't matter because thats all she heard her entire childhood and once jake realizes that or she tells him he starts asking for her opinion, encouraging her to talk more and goes out his way to ask her stuff he already knows.

A/N: Shorty but a goodie. Thank you for the request!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word Count: 1,400k +

Jake stopped pushing the cart in front of him looking over the options the store had provided. When he couldn’t decide he turned to you who stood behind him waiting, “What do you think darlin’?” He asked hoping to bring you out of your thoughts you seemed to be stuck in.

You shook your head, “I don’t mind. You can pick what you want.” You gave him a reassuring smile as he looked over the boxed macaroni and cheese choices. He’d noticed it quickly but never said much about your aversion to deciding. It’s not that you couldn’t it’s that you were almost afraid to make the decision. Were you worried about making the wrong one? Were you afraid he’d be upset? Whatever it was he decided he needed to help. He didn’t want to press you but he wanted to see if he could try. So, if you couldn’t make a big decision he’d help you make smaller ones.

You watched as he grabbed two boxes before walking over to you, “I can’t decide. What do you think darlin’? White or sharp cheddar?” He held them up for you to take a look.

You shrugged, “I really don’t mind Jake.”

He smiled a touch, “But you have a preference, I know you do.”

“So do you.” You raised your eyebrows as if to challenge him. One of the things he’d quickly fallen for about you. As much as he loved how damn stubborn you were he didn’t enjoy when he was on the receiving end.

He shook his head, “Afraid I don’t sweetheart. Going to need you to decide. My brain’s fried. Mav’s got us doing all kinds of crazy shit in training.”

Your eyes lowered at him, “If I must. Let’s do the white cheddar.”

He smiled really big at that, “Now that wasn’t so hard was it darlin’?” His smirk that drove you mad, in a good way of course, came out.

“No.” You rolled your eyes before meeting his stride. Jake decided not to push any further at the store casually trying to get your opinion on things when he saw an opening. He adored everything about you and only wanted the best.

When it came time to settle in for the night you joined Jake on the couch. He scrolled through the endless catalogue of Netflix shows that seemed to going and going. He pulled you to his side right as you sat down on the couch wanting you by his side.

“Any show you want to start?” He asked without much thought. When you tensed up in his arms he knew there was something so much more than what you were letting on. Maybe it wasn’t his place to push but he truly just wanted to help.

You shook your head quickly, “Oh no, you can put on whatever you’d like.” You were watching the television and not him, so you didn’t notice the saddened look he was giving you. When the channel didn’t change for a moment to long you looked up to him.

“Why do you do that?” He asked with that same look.

Genuinely confused you just looked at him, “Do what?”

He gave you a tight squeeze knowing what he was about to do, pry into a part of your life you kept hidden for one reason or another, “You always deflect darlin’.” Short and sweet and to the point.

You creased your eyebrows in wonder, did you? You thought back on the last three months of dating him and you did exactly that. Had you always done that? You sat there in bemusement of your own account before you felt Jake’s gentle squeeze on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or press you sweetheart. I just want to make sure you are alright?” It came out more of a question.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just… I guess I never really realized.” You bit down on your cheek processing his words. It dawned on you just how often you did this with everybody and everything. You were passive. Allowed people to walk all over you. It’s not like you had an awful childhood either, no, not in the slightest. You were just one of six children. Fourth in line and the third daughter. You were a joy but nothing more, nothing less. You weren’t special. You didn’t stand out from any of your brothers or sisters. You got average grades and did well in a few sports you ended up dropping out of. You were just kind of there. A secondary character in everybody’s lives.

It happened over time. You never had you opinion be known. You learned from an early age it was best to just sit down and shut the hell up. That way your mother wouldn’t tell you to shush, and your father wouldn’t throw an angry glare in your direction. It wasn’t just you they did this too. No, your entire family felt the ire of your parents desire. They wanted you to look the part of the happy little perfect family for all the pretentious faces of your city to see. That’s why you didn’t think anything of it. Your brothers and sisters were treated the same way. You weren’t really allowed to have an opinion on things. The concept felt eerily foreign to you.

To make matters worse you followed your father’s footsteps right into the military. The second you turned eighteen you enlisted in the Navy. You weren’t really allowed to have an opinion in this line of work too. It was best to do as you did before, sit down and shut up. Take the orders, do the job, and move on. That’s what you were good at. It’s like your father had trained you from a young age to act a certain way. But the curse turned to a blessing once you met Jake in flight school. You’d been fast friends for a long two years before he decided to make a move on you after the mission at Top Gun. He realized life was short and took the leap. And you were sure glad he did. You’d loved him from the moment you met him. You’d take him as friend or a lover. And you were rather thankful it was the former.

“Really?” He asked pressing his luck just a little further.

You nodded, “My father is military too. We were raised a certain way… very strict. We weren’t exactly allowed to voice our thoughts.” Not elaborating any further you tore your eyes away feeling a flush of embarrassment rip right on through you.

“You know that’s not right? It’s okay to have an opinion. I want you to have opinions! I want to make you happy.” You felt him wrap his arm around you waist giving it a gentle squeeze for some form of comfort.

“I just didn’t think it mattered. My voice never mattered.” You whispered feeling awfully vulnerable as his eyes bore into your side.

He answered quickly, “It matters. Darlin’ your voice matters so much, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, “I can’t… I can’t guarantee I’ll be perfect though Jake. I’ve never had a say. It’s always been told to me. I’m so sorry.”

He grabbed your chin and gently lifted it to look at him. It was agonizing to watch the inner turmoil from your head play out in front of him, “Please don’t apologize. I understand. And if I don’t I’ll try too. I want you to know how much I love you darlin’. I care about what you think. I want to get and do things that make you happy too.”

Your eyes went wide just as his did, “You love me?” He’d never said it out loud before, but he’d loved you for a long time, long before you’d been dating.

“I do.” He nodded knowing he wasn’t going to back out of it. He’d refrained from saying it so he wouldn’t scare you away really. He would’ve told you the night of your first date had he known you wouldn’t have run away. But he knew you. Knew how timid you could be about relationships and feelings. He’d watch you from afar as you tiptoed around these kinds of things in the past.

“That’s good.” You nodded not letting your eyes break from his.

You felt a rumble from his chest and heard a laugh bubble up, “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” You grinned.

“And why’s that?” He pressed as his lips inched closer to yours.

“Because I love you too.” It was almost silent as closed the distance between the two of you. The kiss was different. A little more passionate. Filled with a touch more understanding. He smiled when he pulled back studying your sweet face. He’d successfully knocked another block down from the wall that was slowly crumbling down at his efforts.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

[love-quinn]

— GOOGLE REVIEWS

summary — carmen's never been good with his words, so when he finds you crying in the walk-in, he gets some help to convince you that you're capable of doing your job.

warnings — swearing, general customer-service nightmare stuff. reader is younger than carmen but i pictured/wrote her as being mid-late twenties (25-28 ish) and i think carmy is early 30s so there's an age gap but they're both fully adults, also boss/employee relationship so power imbalance but also nothing happens between them

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, not established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 1.9k

note — first carmen fic so obligatory warning that he might be OOC, i rlly work on dialogue and shit but i am finding my footing. waitress!reader is kinda special to me i might write some more about them cause they're both so silly if that's something people would be interested in? anyway i hope you enjoy :3

“Stupid… fucking useless- fuck!”

The rush is familiar. The lunch rush, the dinner rush, the fifteen different orders jumbling in your head as you struggle to write it all down in time. Holding nine full glasses of nine different drinks in one hand and struggling to push open the door to run the food out into the dining room. Having to go to Richie and tell him that someone’s card declined so you didn’t have to be the one to tell them. Going into the walk-in and just opening your mouth in a silent scream just to go back out there and finish your shift. 

The rush of cold air on the back of your neck is familiar too. You don’t know what Carmen’s yelling about in the kitchen. You’d just stepped in there to grab food and had caught the tail end of his rant and you’d left with your tray and a million possibilities running through your head.

You’d written something down wrong and now a dish needed to be remade. 

You’d left one of the fridges open and spoiled days worth of food.

You’d given someone something they were allergic to and now you were being sued.

You move through the restaurant on autopilot, avoiding people and chairs and one of Richie’s spitballs sent from behind the counter. You’re so sure that the next time you went back in that kitchen Carmy would be pulling you aside and telling you that you’re fired. 

You deliver the food to the table with a smile and stand back upright to check in with them about that being everything. One of the women sits up a little straighter, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I ordered a side of the lemon herb dressing?”

You look down at her dressing-less plate. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be right back with that one, so sorry.”

She waves you off. “You take as long as you need to, honey.”

You practically speed back to the kitchen. Oh, god. You hoped you’d at least get that poor woman her dressing before Carmy fired you. You can’t believe that you managed to screw this up. You’d been lucky to get this job. Carmen had brought you on right when he’d opened up the restaurant and the rest of The Bear had all been super welcoming.

You got on best with Sydney, the two of you were similar in age and she was one of the kindest people you knew. You and Richie also had a nice relationship, you thought he hated you when you first got hired and then he walked out into the alley to have a cigarette, found you crying and punched a guy in the face for you. 

You needed this job. You’d graduated a few years ago and were still struggling to break through in your field, and this job paid the bills and didn’t make you cry every single day. Some days, sure, but not every day. 

You knew you weren’t the best waitress ever, you screwed up and made customers yell at you pretty frequently. You were lucky that Richie liked you enough to stand up for your honor even when you were probably wrong. But you tried your absolute best, you came into work every day and genuinely wanted to help. You respected all of the chefs so much, they all worked so hard, and you wanted to make their lives as easy as possible. 

You go over to Richie and murmur something to him about the dressing, and he takes it to the kitchen. First whatever you’d done to upset Carmy, now this. If he didn’t think you knew how to do your job before, he definitely will now. You glanced over your section. All your tables were eating or had ordered, you’d normally be checking with Sugar when the next reservation was due and triple-checking the table was clean and everything was prepared. 

If you were going to get a walk-in minute in, now would be the best time. Maybe you could do it before Carmy fired you. 

You brush past Tina, not even hearing her concerned call for you. The walk-in was empty and everyone in the kitchen understood. When someone goes into the walk-in with tears in their eyes you leave them alone for as long as you can. 

You can’t believe that you were stupid enough to screw this up. 

The door slams open and you wipe your eyes, expecting it to be Tina needing to actually do her job or Marcus wanting to check on you. It’s Carmen.

“What happened?” He hadn’t been expecting to see you so upset. He’d heard the door slam and wanted to leave it alone, but then Richie had raised his eyebrows, stopping mid-sentence.

“God, I can’t wait to hear about whatever asshole yelled at her this time,” he’d shaken his head, trying to go back to what he’d been talking to Carmy about before. One of the shelves had been knocked and two containers of flour had been completely emptied out onto the floor. They had lids on, lids with clamps on them that were meant to stop that from happening but lo and behold Fak was now mopping up something that was beginning to resemble bread dough with how much water he was trying to use. . 

“Who?” Carmy’s eyes had still been glued to the walk-in. Richie had said your name and Carmen had practically excused himself in the same breath. This time? Did you get yelled at by customers a lot?

You wipe your face, shaking your head. “Sorry, Carm. I guess I just needed a second, I’ll get back out there.”

You take a step forward and he, without meaning to, moves to block the door. You feel your heart rate climb. This was it, he was going to scream at you in the walk-in. “You’re crying.”

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t want this to happen, you didn’t want to be crying in front of your boss. Especially not Carmen. He’s a lot, you know that. You’re not in the kitchen a whole lot, but when you are he’s usually not super happy. He’s a yeller, half of Chicago knows that. But he’s always kind to you, he gave you a job when you were fresh out of college in an unrelated field with no experience because he could tell how much you needed one. You often felt out of place slightly, through no fault of the other staff. They spent all shift in the kitchen together and you spent your entire shift out there in the dining room. You know they’re not having sleepovers and braiding each others’ hair in there, but your work mostly took place in a different room.

But Carmen always makes sure you get Family, that you get your break even if it’s scheduled while it’s busy and that Richie isn’t skimming your tips (he’d never, but Carmen’s caught him with his hands in the jar so often that he isn’t sure anymore). 

It really doesn’t help that he looks like that.

You’re shaking, and he worries for a second that it’s because you’re standing in the freezer, but there are tears welling in your eyes and he doesn’t want to drag you out to his office when you’re so visibly upset. “I’m sorry,” you’re shaking your head. “Please don’t fire me.”

Carmen frowns. “Why would I fire you?”

The words seem to tumblr from your mouth without your permission. “I know I’m not the best waitress, I’m sure you get lots of complaints about me and I forgot that woman’s dressing and I know nothing about kitchens but I’m trying, Carm. I promise, and I’ll do better.” You’re talking so fast that he can barely keep up. He’s still caught up on the first part. 

“Wait, wait,” he holds a hand up to stop you. “Who told you you’re not a good waitress?”

You sniff, tears fully rolling down your cheeks. Carmen knows he’s rough. He’s prone to explosions. Carmen is a hurricane, he wreaks havoc on whatever environment he’s in. He sucks in everyone else’s bullshit, swirls it around and then spits it back out, leaving whatever is left in worse condition than he found it. 

You were calm. You calmed everyone. If an asshole yelled at Carmen, or Sydney or Ebra, Richie wouldn’t even dream of going out there and yelling at the customer. Marcus made you a cake on your birthday and Sydney tries all of her newest recipes on you. 

The eye of the hurricane. 

You’re prattling at this point. “-And that time that I made that guy wait fifteen minutes for a straw, and-”

“Honey,” he doesn’t mean to, that slips out without him meaning. “You’re a great waitress, who gives a shit that guy had to wait for his fucking straw? Who cares, you’re…” he can’t think of a way to talk to you. Great feels too impersonal, wonderful feels too intimate. It’s what you are, though. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re… everyone loves you. We’re lucky to- I’m sure you could get a job at any other restaurant if you wanted. You’re not a bad waitress.”

That’s apparently the wrong thing for him to say. It only makes you cry harder. “Please don’t fire me,” you look pathetic. Crying to your boss while he fires you in the middle of the freezer. 

Carmen doesn’t let that slide for a second longer than he has to. “Why the fuck would I fire you?”

You don’t need to answer. Because I’m a bad waitress. It hangs in the air like the frosty vapor that flies from his mouth every time he takes a breath. 

“I swear to fuck, you’re a big part of the reason people come in here,” he’s not lying. He knows his name carries weight, he knows people hear “Carmen Berzatto’s restaurant” and that brings them in the door a lot of the time. He pulls out his phone, reception is shit but he’s able to google the name of the restaurant. 

He doesn’t have to scroll far down the Google reviews before he finds it. “Food was great, waitress was lovely, made us feel so welcome.” He finds another one. “Waitstaff was on top of it. Two people at surrounding tables smashed glasses and from what I saw one waitress cleaned them both up and still managed to get our appetizers out on time.” 

He goes to find another one but stops, looking back up at you. “You’re not firing me?” You take a step back, dropping your entire body so you’re sitting cross-legged on the floor. He watches you, gauging your reaction, before mirroring you. Your knees are almost touching his. 

“I’d have to be a fucking moron.”

The silence is deafening. 

“Hey,” Carmen can’t bite back the shocked laugh. “That’s… alright. Fine.”

Hearing you laugh makes relief bubbled up inside of him. 

“I should go back out there,” you nod towards the door.

Carmy shakes his head, knee nudging against yours. “Richie’s got it, Marcus can walk desserts, Syd’s on top of everything. No one’s gonna hold it against you if you stay here for a bit.”

He stands, hand brushing your shoulder as he moves towards the door. “Have you eaten today?”

You shake your head and he nods. “I’m gonna make you some pasta, okay? Richie can take over for a bit, you take your time in here I’ll be right outside, honey.” He shuts the door and your shoulder burns where he touched it. 

[godimus]

Transformers requests??? Yes boyyyyyyyyyyy

Could I get a Transformers One triangle between D-16 and Orion with a cybertronian reader who’s been with them through it all 🙏🙏

They’re struggling to choose who to side with cause while violence isn’t always the answer…. Sentinel definitely deserves it, but also (post everything going down) their friends have completely changed and they’re almost unrecognisable.

If you wanna play on possessiveness for D-16 as well cause they’re the only bot who understands what he’s going through and sees his reasoning.

And protectiveness for Orion cause this is his lov- friend, and he can’t let them go down the path D is going down cause he’ll lose another person.

Ending up to you though, I’ve just been desperate for some love triangle mess between my boys 🙏🙏

Orion Pax X Gender Neutral! Reader X D-16

I can't believe this, you're actually my first request ever! I genuinely hope that I did a decent job at this fic.. I hope you like it, enjoy :D !!

“You can’t walk away and act like nothing happened, D, you could’ve gotten us hurt, you could’ve gotten them hurt badly.”  The dazzling lights of the lively city in the darkness of Cybertron reflected on the blue helm of the gentle bot as he spoke in a worried tone, visibly on edge from having to save his most precious companions from getting caught by the guards.

“Just when I thought I could rely on you, you just had to screw it up.” A dangerously low mumble escaped the dermas of the furious bot, fiery orange optics darkening as vivid images of his once adored idol annihilating Cybertron’s glorious Primes. “What do-�� “I wish you could see like me, like them, Orion, but no, you still don’t get it.”

I knew that this would happen, I could see it a klik away, it was indeed inevitable. It correlates to mixing two significantly incompatible substances and anticipating a low-risk outcome. I happened to be the third, more counterbalanced substance in this demonstration.

I cautiously approached the taller bot from behind, the moment my servo touched him, a quiet stillness settled between us, the usual hum of his systems slowing as if my presence alone could calm the storm inside him.. I could feel his stiffened frame relaxing under my digits and his ex-vents releasing a kept huff.

“Don’t be so hard on him, D. You know he cares more than you’ll ever admit... maybe even more than I should.”  I whispered, close enough that only D could hear me, my optics have found themselves on Orion, who seemed to be watching me. D’s optics softening to a certain degree yet displaying a puzzled look, like an internal conflict occurring between seeking vengeance and lowering his defensive walls to his friends, and yet, in that single, silent moment, it was clear that beneath the fury was something raw, something almost vulnerable, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of his trust in me.

“This doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change our reality, everything I knew was a lie.”  Frustration boiling up once again at the core of his frame as he choked out the last part while balling his servos into a fist. “I should’ve known..”

I glanced back at Orion, his optics were looking at the distance, deep inside his thoughts. “Sentinel is indeed good at many things, deceiving Cybertron is certainly his leading trait” “If I could only get my fingers around his ventilation cables-“ Narrowed blue optics studying the facial plate of his furious friend as he spouts threats, guilt eating him up from letting his friend end up in this state.

“I’m sorry, D, but this is not a proper way to handle our situation.” Protesting firmly and holding his ground,Orion’s optics darted to the quiet bot before gazing back at D-16. “Can you blame him? Can you blame any of us for wanting to take matters into our own hands...? we can’t live like this for eternity, there are more of us than meets the eyes, right, Orion? You said that yourself.” Something glinted in D’s optics as he gawked at the third bot, a whirling sound leaving his vents, a tingling sensation enveloping his.. spark?

“We can seek justice, not destruction.” “I don’t want justice.” D gritted through his dentas.

“It’s a very violent path you’re choosing, my friend, and I cannot allow you to involve them in your reckless plans and risking their safety.” The air around them tightened, the silver bot’s flaming optics glaring right back at the calm, yet firm ones of Orion’s. “I would never let anything happen to them-“ he turned to me “-so long you stick to my side.” He stated quietly, seeming gentler when his attention was on me, and if I hadn’t been with him for so long, I wouldn’t have noticed that subtle pleading look on him, was he begging for me to stay? My spark pulsed irregularly under his gaze, and though I tried to stay calm, something in the way his optics darkened when he looked at me stirred feelings I hadn’t yet dared to name.

I felt a touch on my shoulder plate, it was firm, but there was a tenderness in the way his servo lingered, sending a warmth through my frame I hadn’t felt in cycles and turning me around. “This is bigger than any of us. I won’t force you to stay, but you must choose wisely.”  His unwavering, yet tender grip on me made me forget about my worries for a moment, looking deep into my eyes. “I promise to fix all of this.”  He comforted in a deep, rumbling voice.

“I know you will, Orion.” I gave him a fragile smile, placing my servo on top of his and giving a light squeeze. His unceasingly furrowed optical ridges' finally relaxed and softer by my touch.

“I can’t believe this, even you? You don’t get to do this to me!” A roaring voice came behind Orion, a wide-open hot optics staring right through me, “I trusted you! I trusted both of you!” He yells frantically while moving towards me and with each step his optics radiate an intense color.

“D.” A warning voice came from the figure in front of me, shielding me from the raging bot as he stomped towards us. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.” For a moment, I forgot about the two bots in front of me bickering and the tension rising severely, our memories together and the bond we shared had perhaps reached its peaking point.

I went around the protectiveness hold of Orion’s and stepped closer to the infuriated bot. “You’re right, D, but I also can’t watch you destroy yourself.”  The words hung in the air; D went silent momentarily while watching me with a puzzled look. “But Sentinel… he’s the one responsible for all of this. He deceived us all.” He said in confusion.

Orion, ever the calm figure, stepped forward. “And we will stop him. But not like this.” “Stopping him isn’t enough. I will kill him.” He growled; the tension reached its peak as D-16 stood daringly. “Then leave, for the sake of our memories that we’ve lived together.” Orion stated, but through the composure he carried, I could see sorrow in the electric blue optics of his. “I will never forget this.” D-16 hissed darkly before taking a good look at me until he turned to walk away, and for good.

“This is too much for me..” I murmured while absently looking at the ground. “It was prone to happen,” Orion was now facing me, his broader torso blocking the view of the retreating bot. Gentle blue servos, almost as big as my helm, cupping my face and rubbing it comfortably. “But it will be alright, because I’m going to be here for you through it all.”

[starsinthesky5]

you are in love IV || joe burrow x reader

description: you and joe are embarking on a weeks long trip to France for work, Cannes being your first stop

a/n: okay so this was way longer than planned but i could not stop adding to it LOL. hope you guys love it ;)

also, I tried something new and added a little instagram bit to the fic at the end! not sure how I feel about it yet, but I’m kinda digging it? that kinda thing will be in the next few fics but it’s not a regular thing :) just for the upcoming bit

word count: 17.1 k (i genuinely didn’t intend for this to be this long oh my god)

warnings: language, smut, you both are HORNY

you are in love series masterlist (has all previous parts)

———————————————————

“Did you pack everything?” you asked Joe for what felt like the 100th time as you grabbed your phone and tote bag before leaving the garage. 

“Yes, I packed everything,” he rolled his eyes as he closed the car trunk. You had been on Joe for the past 4 days making sure that everything was settled for your week-long trip to France and although he loved you and your mom-like antics when it came to trips, he was getting a bit irritated with the constant ‘are you packed?’ and ‘did you get everything?’ questions. 

“I just want to make sure we have everything since we’ll be gone for a week,” you smile as you place your stuff in the car’s passenger seat.

“We have everything, I promise,” he chuckles as he punches in the code to close the garage before walking closer to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re the one that is used to all the international traveling, so why are you the one that’s stressing out?”. 

“Because this trip is important for you,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I just want to make sure everything is perfect,”. 

“It is perfect. The fact that you’re coming with me makes all of this even more perfect,” he says as he kisses your lips.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you smile. “We’re going to have sooo much fun at the events and around the city,”.

“Around the city? Absolutely. At the events? Probably not,” he sighs, his smile faltering, 

You watched as his smile dropped a bit, most likely because of the fact that Joe was not a fan of these types of things. He didn’t particularly enjoy public speaking, media events, or anything that required him to be out there. His anxiety would skyrocket in these kinds of situations but he still managed to put on a brave face and do what he had to do. This whole week was going to consist of that, and he was not looking forward to it. He was, however, looking forward to spending time with you in the beautiful French Riviera (which even you haven’t been to) and then the City of Love a few days later and you being with him was the only thing keeping him going. 

“Hey, I know this is not the most fun and ideal situation for you, but I’m so proud of you for putting yourself out there like this. I know talking in front of an audience is overwhelming but you’ve gotten a lot better at it and I know you can do it. Branching out is never easy, but you’re doing amazing so far. Getting to walk the freaking runway in Paris is absolutely insane and I am so fucking proud of you. I’ll be with you every step of the way, so if you need anything, I’m here,” you say as you brush a few of his curls out of his eyes. 

“Where have you been all my life,” Joe says as he slides his hand up and down your lower back. “I seriously could’ve used you in my corner back when I first came into the league because then all of this wouldn’t be so hard,”. 

You let out a soft laugh, “I’ve been right under your nose,” you say as you press a kiss to his nose. “The universe brought us to each other at the right time,”.

“I still can’t believe how many events we went to at the same time but never met until the White Party,” he chuckled. You and Joe had been around each other many times before the White Party, you just never knew that since your paths never crossed. You called it the “Invisible String Theory”. You could have walked past each other, you could have mutual friends, or even have been complete strangers and never had heard of each other, but the universe wouldn’t have you both meet until the exact moment that you needed each other in your lives.

“The universe knew when we needed each other,” you blushed. 

“The stars all aligned just for us,” he said as he tucked your hair behind your ear. 

“I love that we have the universe on our side,” you said. “It’ll be good to get away from everything together, I think we deserve a break,”. 

“Damn right we do,” he laughs. “Can’t wait to be done with all the boring stuff and get to enjoy the fruits of my labor with my gorgeous girlfriend,”. 

“Oh yeah? What fruits will we be enjoying?” you say as you raise your eyebrow. 

“Hmm, I was thinking a boat day plus private sunset dinner on said boat, walking around the city with you without any crazed fans hounding us, and my personal favorite, the massive bedroom suite they’re hooking me up with that has a gigantic bed and a jacuzzi tub,” he winks. “If you’re picking up what I’m putting down,” he adds as you feel his hand fall down to your butt. 

“Ohhh,” you replied, a smirk appearing on your face. “It’s a great thing I packed extra Advil in my bag. I have a feeling I’ll need it,”.

“Oh, you will. I don’t think I’ll be able to contain myself since we have the big suite with nobody else on our floor. No neighbors in a foreign city is just an invitation to be as loud as we want” he whispers into your ear before moving past you to open up your door again, leaving you with a stunned expression on your face and butterflies in your stomach. Joe always kept you on your toes, something you needed in your life. He was equal parts affectionate, genuine, and lustful; the perfect lover and best friend at the same time. 

“Shall we Mon Amour?” He asks, squeezing in a bit of French that he memorized earlier.

You turn around and smile at Joe calling you ‘my love’ in French, “Oh, so we’re going full France now?”.

“It’s only fitting,” he shrugged. 

“Well then, we shall Mon Amant,” you grin, surprising him with a bit of French you picked up last time you went to France. 

“Hm?” he said with a confused look as he moved aside to let you in the car. 

“It means ‘My Lover’,” you giggle as you sit inside.

He leans down and meets your face, “Well then, Mon Amant, I can’t wait to do this trip with you,” he says before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips and then closing your car door. You fell back into the seat, your cheeks a shade of red that only Joe could bring out.  

An hour later

After driving to the airport and loading everything onto the private jet, you get settled into the plane and are now on your way to France. You change into some more comfortable clothes since the flight is about 12 hours, Joe doing the same. 

“I hope you’re prepared to be on a plane for 12 hours,” you say as you sit down across from Joe. 

“If I go to sleep it’ll go by pretty fast,” he shrugs.

“And how do I keep myself entertained then?” you scoff as you lightly kick his foot. 

“There is a bed back there for a reason you know,” he winks as he points back to the small bedroom. “We can both go to ‘sleep’ for a bit,” he says as he makes air quotes around ‘sleep’.

“We’ve been on here for 20 minutes and you’re already horny,” you laugh. 

“Can’t help it when I’m around you,” he says with a smirk on his face. “You’re the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever seen so naturally the level of testosterone will skyrocket”. 

“Anywayyy,” you say, trying to change the subject before you fold because of his words and end up in the bedroom. “I’m excited to come with you to the Sport Beach events. I can’t wait to see you on the panels all professional and social,”.

“Really? I thought you’d be bored of sitting there listening to me talk about branding and media for god knows how long,” he said.

“It may be a little boring, but I love watching you do your thing,” you smile as you pull out your water bottle to take a sip before handing it to Joe.

“My thing is playing football, not sitting at a panel and talking to strangers in front of an audience,” he says as he takes a sip of water. 

“I know you hate these kinda things but I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there. I know how overwhelming it can get when you have a thousand eyes on you dissecting every little thing you say”. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I guess this is the price of what we do,”.

“At least we have each other now,” you say as you reach for his hand across the table between you both. 

“Thank god,” he groans, making you laugh at his facial expression. “Having someone that gets me and understands the kind of spotlight on me really makes all the difference,”.

“I feel the same way,” you say as you kiss his hand. “You get me and I get you,”.

“We’re like two peas in a pod,” he smiles.

“Precisely,” you nod. You understood the pedestal that Joe was on and everything that came along with what he did, and he understood the same for you. Although what you both did was extremely different, you still had a deep understanding of one another on that level. 

“Did you think more about how we’re going to make ourselves official as a couple to the public?” he asked, his face scrunching up as soon as the words left his mouth. “That sounds so fucking weird,” he laughed.

“Tell me about it,” you giggled. 

Before your trip, you and Joe had talked about what you would do if and when people started to spot you around Cannes or Paris. You weren’t expecting a lot of attention since you were in a foreign country, but you were sure you were going to get some since a lot of athletes & industry people were going to be in France this week. You had a pretty big international reach as well, but still weren’t expecting people to notice you that much since nobody usually bothered you. The public already saw you at a few games in January but there was no real confirmation as to what was going on between you two, just some rumors and speculation. You had been together for about 9 months now and it had been 9 months of pure joy and love. You had been lucky enough to have the leisure of getting to know each other and building your relationship away from prying eyes, and now that you two were at a point in your relationship where you were okay with letting people in (only a little bit though), you had to figure out a way to do so before that right was taken away against your will.

“I don’t really know to be honest. I haven’t really ever had the comfort of ever sharing my relationships on my own terms,” you say as you roll your eyes, remembering how the public was so invested in your private life that it was incredibly difficult to keep things such as your relationship a secret. “This is new territory for me,” you say as you smile again as you think about how you and Joe’s relationship was different than any other relationship you’d been in before. 

This relationship was private. For once it was just yours. 

It wasn’t placed on a silver platter like every other relationship and presented to the public for them to pick at it or dissect every piece of it. You and Joe had kept your love away from all the interloper’s glances and unwanted opinions so that your relationship could flourish naturally, which it was. It was more than flourishing, it was blossoming into something special. 

The fact that you two were in a spot in your relationship where you didn’t mind willingly opening the window a little bit was exciting. You’d never had the opportunity to do it on your own terms, and now you had the chance to. You both were ready to share it with others. 

“I say, just wear a shirt that says Burrow’s Girlfriend, and I’ll wear one that says Y/N’s Boyfriend,” he laughed.

Joe’s laughter was the greatest sound you had ever heard. The way his nose would scrunch up and the crinkles would form around his eyes when he laughed was the most adorable sight in the world, and you got to see it whenever you wanted. 

“That would be hilarious,” you said as you started imagining it. You couldn’t really come up with any real ideas on how to approach the subject of going official, the only one really making sense was to just be spotted together.

“I mean, I’ll be at your panels in Cannes and with you during Fashion Week, that should be enough for people to get a hint,” you smile. “I’m sure we’ll get a good amount of headlines and front cover photos when they get the hint,”. 

“That’s true,” he nodded. “Maybe an Instagram Post too? So that they understand that it’s not just a fling, a Hard Launch is what they call it I guess. Unless that’s a lot for you,”. Joe didn’t want to pressure you into anything, knowing how your past relationships were so public and what the negative effects were for them being so open. Posting each other on Instagram was a pretty big deal since everyone could see it and since you two were pretty private. Joe had always been private with his personal life and you had started to as well over the past few years once you realized what being open truly means. 

“It’s not too much for me,” you grin. “I know how I feel about you and I don’t care what anyone has to say about it,”. 

The fact that those words were coming out of your mouth was insane, but it was true. Joe brought out that side of you that you tucked away most of the time. That side of you that’s carefree, loose, and alive. 

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he said as he felt himself melt away from your reassuring smile. 

“Thank you for making me feel that way,” you wink.

Joe gave you a lazy smile as he felt his tiredness settle in, his eyes feeling a bit heavy. 

“You can go back there and take a nap if you want,” you say, noticing his sleepiness. “I’ll join you in a bit. I just need to call my manager for a bit to talk about the Grammys next month,”. 

One of the biggest nights of your career, the illustrious Grammy Awards, was next month and you were up for 3 awards. You were nominated for Album of the Year, Artist of the Year, and Song of the Year for your last album's lead single ‘Is It Over Now?’. Turns out people loved an album about the most gut-wrenching breakup you’d ever experienced and related heavily to a song about an on-again off-again relationship that never had any clarity in it. 

“Ooo, fun,” he yawned as he stretched his arms out. “Isn’t this when you said you’d announce the new album?”.

“Hopefully. If all goes to plan and I win at least 1 of the 3 categories I’m nominated for, I’m going to announce ‘reputation’ then. If I don’t win, I’ll just drop the Instagram post announcement and leave it at that,”. 

“Reputation,” he says, the word rolling off of his tongue so nicely. “I’ll never get over that name, it’s so sick,” he says. “I better still be getting one of those wristbands with the album name on it that you're selling for the album merch. I want to add it to my stack,” he said, pointing at his stack of wristbands he had on his wrist; all of which had a special meaning to him. Now he wanted to add another one, one for you. 

“Actually,” you smiled while reaching into your pocket, pulling out a black wristband that had the album name in white stamped on it with a green snake on the other side. “I got this a few days ago. First ever one,”.

“This is so sick,” he said as he looked at the band, taking it from your hand and slipping it onto his wrist. “Fits perfectly with the rest and now I’ll always have you with me. And I’ll get to rep the best album in the world every day,”.

“Aww, Joe,” you blushed. “I’m glad you like it since you were my muse for about 95% of it,” you say as you get up from your seat to grab your laptop to video chat with your manager. 

“The other 5% kills me,” he sighed. 

“I know, but to tell the story I had to add the not-so-happy stuff into it for it all to make sense,” you said as you opened your bag. 

“Fair point. I will say that even though ‘The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived’ is about someone and something I’d rather not talk about, it’s one of the best songs you’ve written,” he said, referring to your ex-boyfriend or situationship as you liked to call it. 

“I knew you’d like it,” you smiled.

“I mean you really came for his neck with the bridge,” he shrugged. “Badass behavior,”.

“Being a badass is fun sometimes,” you nodded. “Besides, I don’t care what he thinks. He knows what he did and deserves to be called out for it,”.

“I love it when you get petty,” he shakes his head out of admiration, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Wait so does this mean I get to go with you to the Grammys? Since I’m your muse?” he asked.

“You want to? Like for real?” you ask him as you start to play with your necklace, the letter “J” pendant Joe gave you for your 1 month anniversary. 

“Absolutely. I want to support you just like how you support me,” he said as he got up from his seat and walked over to you. “Besides, I want to see everyone’s reaction when you sweep all 3 categories and announce next year's album of the year all in one go,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be lucky if I even win 1 category,” you replied as you stared at your feet. “Having you with me would mean the world though,”.

He moved his hand under your chin, lifting your face up so that you were looking into his eyes. “You’re going to win, trust me. And now that I’m going with you, I’ll make sure of it,”.

“What are you going to do? Swap the names?” you giggle. 

“Something like that,” he winked. 

“I can’t wait to see you try,” you say as you lean in to kiss him, your arms wrapping around his neck and his around your waist. 

After holding the kiss for a few moments, you pull away. “You go take a nap and I’ll be there in a bit,” you say as you turn around to grab him a plush blanket from your bag. 

“You better hurry up,” he said as he grabbed the blanket, kissed your cheek, and started walking to the mini bedroom. 

“I will but no funny business, Burrow,” you warn him.

“We’ll see about that,” he mumbled before closing the door, leaving you with a radiant smile on your face and a serene feeling inside of you. 

A Half Hour later 

You wrapped up your exciting call with your manager before falling back into the seat and taking a deep breath. You had just finalized your album’s tracklist and release date and now it was starting to feel real. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so excited to release music since both times you had in the past were not very enjoyable. The release of your debut album had your stomach in knots for weeks before it came out as you were terrified that people wouldn’t enjoy it or that it wouldn’t do well. The release of your second album had you petrified at the thought of how the public would react to what the album was about. All you could think about was if what you wrote was too much and if people would resonate with your feelings or turn on you for trying to ‘push a narrative’.

When writing and working on both albums you were also second-guessing yourself every step of the way. Maybe it was because of the company around you, or maybe it was because of the things you were experiencing while working on them. This time, however, you were fully confident in what you were doing, not caring about what others thought or letting people’s opinions of you define your work. You were relaxed, enthusiastic, confident, and happy, it was the ‘Joe Effect’. 

You placed your laptop bag in your bag and then had a nice stretch before you walked over to the bedroom. You carefully opened the door, trying not to make any loud noises that would wake Joe up. You saw him sprawled out on the mattress, his mouth slightly open as you heard faint snores leaving his lips. 

You turned around and closed the door and when you looked back at Joe, his eyes were open and he was looking over at you. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you softly said as you crawled into the bed next to him. 

“I dozed off for 5 minutes, it’s fine,” he said as he opened up the blanket and covered your legs with it. 

“Can’t sleep?” you asked him.

“Can’t sleep without you,” he smiled as he moved his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his chest. “What did you and your manager talk about?” he asked while he rubbed your shoulder.

“Tracklist and Release Date,” you smile as you tangle your legs with his and place your hand on his neck, rubbing his soft skin.

“Ah,” he nods. “How's it looking?”.

“Well, tracks 1-8 are all the unhappy things and stuff that led up to us meeting, track 9 is the start of the songs about us,” you beamed.

“Track 9? Real subtle,” he blushed.

“Track 9 deserves its time to shine which is also why it’s a lead single,” you smiled. 

“I feel so special,” he said, batting his eyelashes and fanning himself.

“Okayyy your majesty let’s come back down to earth,” you joked. “After that, there’s a long stretch of 9 songs just about us, then there’s like 3 songs about some other stuff and then the final 6 are about us as well,”.

Joe nodded and squeezed your hand, “What about the release date? When does the world get to hear the best album ever made?”.

You close your eyes and push your head into his neck, hiding the smile that Joe put on your face by once again complimenting you. 

You pull your head out a second later, butterflies in your stomach as you think about the release date. Not only was the release date the day you were releasing what was basically a diary of memories from the past 9 months, but it was also a special day for you and Joe. 

“July 4th,” you say as you meet his eyes. 

“The anniversary of the day we met,” he said to you, his eyes softening as he felt his heart gush.

“Mhm,” you blush. “One of the most special days of my life. Only fitting since I wrote so many songs about you and about that day,” you said. 

He gazed into your eyes for a few quiet moments, unable to come up with any other words to express his feelings other than, “I love you,”. 

And that was fine. You didn’t need him to say anything else because you knew how he felt about you. After all, he never failed to show you. Although it was just 3 words, he knew those 3 words meant the world to you, especially if they came from him. 

“I love you more than anyone in the world,” you say to him before you feel him lean in and kiss your lips. 

You pull him closer as the kiss quickly turns heated, Joe moving you down flat against the bed so that you are lying on your back and he is on top of you. You pulled away and laughed at how Joe looked like a child who just got candy taken away from them. 

“Hey, what was that for?” he grumbled.

“I said no funny business remember,” you said proudly, knowing the hold you had over him. 

“I didn’t think you were being serious,” he said as his eyes widened. “We’re on this plane for 12 hours and you really expect us to not have some fun,”.

“Watching movies is fun,” you grin. “Playing games is fun. Eating the snacks I bought is fun,”. 

He looked at you for a few seconds, a smirk on his face as his hand started rubbing your hip. “I could eat,” he said. 

“Okay, perfect. I brought Oreos, Fruit, Pretzels…” you start to say before he interrupts you. 

“None of that sounds good,” he said, his hand slowly moving down to your thigh. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” you laughed. “I have more stuff in my bag. I’ll go get it,” you say, trying to get up from the bed but Joe doesn’t let you. 

“I don’t think you have what I want out there,” he said, his face moving closer to yours. 

You rolled your eyes, “Then what do you want to eat because I got a lot of snacks, many of which you love,”.

“You,” he purred, his eyes turning a darker shade of blue, a familiar shade of blue though. “I want you,”.

You searched his eyes for a few moments, your body feeling hot at the thought of what Joe was implying. “Joe,” you whispered, his hands now cupping your mound. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your ear. “If you’ll let me,”. 

There was nobody on the plane but you two, the pilot, and the flight attendant; both of which were all the way in the front while you were in the back. If you did something, they would most likely not be able to hear you. 

“We have to be quiet though,” you said, easily giving in to his words.

“You have to be quiet. I’m just here to have a sweet treat and make my girlfriend feel good,” he said as you felt him slip his hand inside your shorts.

You rolled your eyes before pushing his head down and crashing your lips against his, both moving against each other in a sensual tango. You felt his fingers teasing your folds through your lace panty, your wetness seeping through. 

“Already so wet?” he smirked after he pulled away.

“Shut up,” you said as you pulled him back down to the kiss.

He took his hand out of your shorts and rested it on your waist, using his other hand to grab your leg and wrap it around his waist as he deepened the kiss. The combination of his fiery touch and addictive lips was making you restless. 

“Joe, please,” you whimpered as you pulled away from his lips. 

He gave you a smile before moving down, pressing wet kisses along your inner thigh before sucking on the skin of your left thigh.

“Mm,” you whimper, stuffing your hand into his soft curls. 

He wastes no time as he pulls down your shorts and panties all in one go, immediately stuffing his face between your thighs. “Ohh,” you hissed, the feeling of his scruff between your legs was to die for. 

You feel him lap at your folds, his tongue then thrusting inside of you as he set a rhythmic pace. He moved his hand to your clit, carefully teasing the sensitive bud with delicate flicks and swirls.

“Fuck, Joe,” you whispered, trying to stifle your moans by throwing your head to the side into the pillow. His other hand slipped inside your shirt, slowly inching towards your breast as you pulled on the strands of his hair. 

His tongue felt like fire, lighting every nerve in your body. The expert flick and swirl of his tongue sent waves of pleasure throughout your withering frame. 

“Joe, you’re so good, fuck right there,” you whimpered as you used your hand to grip the sheets, then feeling him slide his hand out of your shirt, returning his finger to your heat. He starts to rub your clit again, the bundle of nerves just begging to reach its pleasure.

You toss your leg over his shoulder, gliding your foot along his muscular back as you feel Joe moan into your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. You moved your hands back into his tousled curls, pulling on the soft golden strands again as he continued to use his mouth to send you to heaven. “Mm, you taste so good,” he groaned.  

“Joe, I’m so close,” you rasped, feeling your arousal building up. He started to toy with your clit even harder and moved his mouth up to it, replacing his fingers with his mouth as he started to suck on the bud.

You started to shake under him, your breaths getting shorter as you felt the tension in your belly snap and a wave of ecstasy come over you. “Fuck, Baby,” you moaned as you felt yourself reach your high, your hips jerking and your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the intense shocks of pleasure. Joe’s mouth moved back down to your folds and his hands massaged your thighs, trying to calm you down as he lapped at your folds again, cleaning up every drop of your arousal. 

A few minutes later, he cleaned you up with some napkins and was now lying on your chest, your hand playing with the strands of his hair as he pressed kisses on your chest through your shirt. 

“You still hungry,” you lazily chuckled.

“Nope. Dessert was extra delicious today and I'm stuffed,” he yawned. 

“That’s good because I’m about to pass out,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He craned his head up to look up at you, “Nap time?” he mumbled before pressing a kiss to your chin.

“Nap time,” you nodded as you wrapped your arms around his body and closed your eyes. 

After your lengthy nap, you two spent the rest of the flight watching movies, playing various games, eating delicious foods, taking another nap, and going over the schedule for the week. You’d be in Cannes for 4 days (not including today's travel day); tomorrow and Monday would be for you two to explore the city and have a boat day. Tuesday and Wednesday would be panels and the latter half of Wednesday would be when you both would travel to Paris. Then the rest of the trip would be spent in Paris for Fashion Week. You and Joe were incredibly excited to explore the sights and sounds of the city together when he had time off from attending the shows and events. He was walking the runway at the end of the week, which you couldn’t be more proud of him for doing, and he would be attending quite a few shows for various brands throughout the week. You were debating on going with him or not to at least one show, deciding to feel it out depending on how this whole ‘going official’ thing works out. 

A few hours later

You landed about an hour ago and were now on the way to the hotel, both of you wide awake from your naps even though it was currently the middle of the night in Cannes. You looked out your window and watched the lamposts pass by, the streets empty and almost haunting because of how peaceful it seemed. 

“We should almost be there,” he said as he looked out the window. “I think that’s it,” he added as he pointed out the tall massive building in front of you. 

“Holy shit, they really went all out,” you said, your eyes widening as you got closer to the hotel. The impressive architectural structures of the building stood out beautifully as well as the the fact that it was beachfront.

“Beachfront too?” you gasped. “They must really love you,”.

“Told you they hooked me up,” he said as he rubbed your back. 

A couple of minutes later the car stopped in front of the main door, the bellhops loaded your luggage out of the car while you and Joe made your way inside. 

He held your hand as he led you through the lobby, the inside of the hotel just as grand as the outside. Beautiful chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow that highlighted the carefully crafted pillars and impressive ceiling designs. The earthy tan, white, and green hues of the lobby provided a sense of comfort and luxury. 

Joe looked down at your face, your mouth agape and your eyes sparkling. “Wait till you see the room,” he said as he bumped your shoulder. 

“The fact that I’ve never been here is wild,” you say as you feel Joe pull you into the elevator, not allowing you another moment to take in the design of the lobby. 

He pulls you in, quickly presses the button for the floor you are on, and then hits the button to close the door. Before you could say something else, he spun around and backed you up against the elevator wall, his face just inches from yours. 

“I love how excited you get over these things,” he said before he crashed his lips against yours, one hand gripping your waist and the other cupping your face. He found it endearing how you would easily get excited over things like this even though this was your life. The luxury and leisure was something you had been around for quite a few years now, but each time you were exposed to it you would still be mesmerized.  

You try to pull away but Joe doesn’t let you, deepening the kiss as he slides his hand down to your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze that makes you moan into the kiss. A few breathless seconds later, you manage to pull away, a look on his face that tells you he needs more.

“You’re a little worked up,” you blushed as you pressed your forehead against his, your arms around his neck. 

“The thought of us, just us, on what I would consider vacation the whole week is making me feel some things,” he purred. 

“I guess it being the middle of the night isn’t stopping those feelings,” you said as you rubbed his neck.

“Oh, I think that it being the middle of the night is making them way worse,” he said as he was leaning in for another kiss but stopped as he heard the elevator ding, hearing the door behind him open, prompting him to let out a disappointed sigh. 

You gently pushed him off and gave him a wink, “Guess you'll have to wait, this is our stop,”. 

He gave you a slow once-over before reaching forward and picking you up bridal style, his hands wrapping around your waist and legs; the sudden movement making you let out a squeal.

“Joe, put me down, someone will see,” you laughed as he walked out of the elevator with you in his arms.

“Did you forget?” he said as he made it to your suite door. He pulled out the keycard and unlocked the door, “We’re the only ones on the floor,” he whispered into your ear as he brought you inside. 

You stared at him for a few seconds before moving your eyes around the room, the very big and very glamorous room. You were standing in the doorway, in front of you was the living room with a nice dining table that was set up with a bunch of goodies such as wine, champagne, snacks, and chocolates for you and Joe. He walked further into the room, to your right was the passageway to your bedroom, and to the left was the mini kitchen and another seating area. 

“Wow,” you whispered as you looked around the room. “They really love you,”. 

“You haven’t even seen the best part,” he said as he slowly placed you back on your feet. He put his hand on the small of your back and guided you across the room to what looked like patio doors. He opened the door and motioned for you to go out, your eyes widening as you walked out onto the very large and lengthy private patio that had the best view of the beach and city below you. 

“Oh my god,” you said as you walked closer to the railing of the balcony. You looked up and saw the stars in the sky twinkling while the city below you was absolutely still; distant sounds of the waves crashing on the beach in front of you echoed throughout the streets below you. The patio was decorated with various flower arrangements, a day bed, and a little bistro table. 

“This is perfect,” you whispered as you felt a shiver run up your spine. The shorts and short-sleeved top you had on were not meant for this evening weather and you were feeling it. You felt Joe move closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and settling his chin on your shoulder, then turning his head to the side to press wet kisses along your neck; his warmth immediately heats you up. 

“Are you happy?” he mumbled against your skin.

You smiled and turned your head to look at him, his head moving out of your neck as his eyes met yours. “I think if I was any happier I would spontaneously combust,” you giggle before you kiss him again. “I’m glad we get to do this together. This is a big week for you and I am lucky to be a part of it,”.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else with me,” he said as he turned you around and leaned down to kiss you again, this time the kiss was a bit more heated than before as his hands slid down to your ass, pushing you closer to him. 

“Mmm, maybe we should go inside,” you say in between the kisses.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he mumbled as he pulled away and grabbed your hand, yanking you back inside and pulling you to the bedroom. 

“Slow down,” you giggled as he rushed you into the bedroom, not even giving you a moment to take in the vibes of the room as he was eyeing the massive bed waiting in front of you. “Wait, what about our luggage? Shouldn’t we wait for them to bring it up?”.

“They can come by when we wake up tomorrow,” he said as he backed you up until the back of your knees hit the bed. 

“What about our Pj’s?” you frowned. 

“We probably won’t need them,” he said as he started pressing kisses along your jawline, another shiver running down your spine. 

“As much as I'd love to continue this, aren’t you tired?” you asked him as you patted his shoulders.

“Not at all. It might be 2 am here but I am wide awake. Maybe this will make me tired again,” he said as he returned to kissing your neck. “Sex is natural melatonin,”. 

“I won’t argue with science,” you said as you pulled his head back to yours, kissing his lips a little rougher as he gently pushed you down onto the bed and crawled on top of you.

A few minutes later, both your clothes were in a pile next to the bed and Joe was spending some time pressing kisses around your body and nipping your skin. He pulled his head up from your chest and looked deeply into your eyes, leaning down to press a loving kiss on your lips before thrusting into your wet heat, the sudden movement catching you off guard and making you pull away from his lips. 

“Fuck, Joe,” you moaned as he set a ravenous pace. With every thrust he moved deeper inside of you, igniting a fire within you that only burned for him. 

The Next Morning 

The sound of the bathroom door opening woke you up the next morning, your head turning to see Joe walking out with wet hair and no shirt on. You watch as he walks over to the closet, pulls out his suitcase, and opens it to find a shirt, meaning that they must have dropped your luggage off. You slowly sit up, covering your naked body with the sheets as you stretch your arms out. 

“Morning,” he smiled as he turned around while buttoned up his shirt. 

“Gooood Morning,” you yawned as you made grabby hands towards him, motioning for him to come over to you. 

He walked over and sat down next to you, first pressing a sweet kiss to your lips and then pulling you into his chest.

“How long have you been up?” you asked as you ran your fingers along the fabric of his tan knit button-up beach shirt. 

“About two hours or so. I got our bags from the bellhop, ordered us some breakfast, scoped out the beach club downstairs, and took a shower,” he said as he ran his fingers through your messy hair. 

“That’s great,” you said as you tilted your head up to examine his neck, noticing a few purple marks. “Remind me to cover those up,” you laughed as you ran your fingertips along the love bites.

“You can try but I think the makeup would wash off once we get on the boat and decide to go in the water,” he chuckled.

“Oh my god, I forgot today was the boat day,” you gasped, your hand moving to cover your mouth, realizing that he would have the marks on his neck completely visible to the public eye. “I got a little carried away last night,” you said as you moved off his chest and sat up, the sheet falling and your bare chest on display.

Joe’s eyes navigate down to your chest, his eyes widening and a blush snuck up on his face. “I think I did too,” he said as he reached out to rub the love bite on your chest. 

“We’re so horny,” you laughed as you dropped your head into your hands.

“But that’s good for us, keeps us on our toes,” he said, repeating one of the thoughts you had yesterday about him as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and got up from the bed. 

“I’m probably going to shower first and then eat breakfast if that’s cool,” you said as you got up from the bed and grabbed the robe Joe had laid out for you. 

“Yeah, that’s cool. It should still be warm since they have those fancy warmer things under them,”.

“That’s good,” you wince as you start walking over to your suitcase. 

Joe raises his eyebrow at your slight limp, “Sore?”.

“Just a tad,” you blushed as you reached down to open your suitcase. 

He walked over and picked up your suitcase before you could fully zip it open, “I’m gonna put it on the bed so you don’t pull a muscle or anything,”.

“Thank you,” you say as you lean in for another kiss.

“It’s the least I could do for giving you a limp,” he said as he placed the suitcase onto the bed and turned around to face you. 

“You already do enough for me by just existing,” you say as you open up your suitcase and pull out a matching black bikini set with a pink sundress to wear on top of it. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and swayed you back and forth, his heart fluttering at the thought of how lucky he was to have you in his life. “I love you,” he said as he kissed the sweet spot on your neck. 

“I love you too,” you said as you turned your head around to see him, pecking his lips before reaching down to grab a change of clothes for after your boat day. You would be having dinner on the boat as well so you decided to pick out something more fitting. You pull out a strappy white dress and pair it with some gold accessories and heels. 

“I love this dress on you,” Joe said as he ran his fingers along the soft fabric. “I found the beach bag and put my change of clothes in it, left it on the foyer table,”.

“Perfect,” you smiled as you pulled away from his embrace, closing up the suitcase and making your way to the bathroom. 

“How’s the water pressure?” you asked as you stood in the doorway.

“Better than our house,” he nodded. “I also checked out the jacuzzi tub. It has quite a few settings and we will be having some fun in there tonight,” he winked. 

“Looking forward to it,” you said as you twirled around and closed the door to begin your morning routine. 

About an hour and a half later, you’re washed, dressed, moisturized, and finishing up breakfast at the table with Joe. 

“This food is so good,” he groaned as he took a final bite of his muffin. 

“We’re going to gain at least 10 pounds by the time the trip is over,” you joked as you took another sip of your orange juice. 

“We can brush it off as healthy relationship weight if someone says something,” he joked. 

“Healthy,” you smile as you lean your head back to relish that feeling. Your relationship with Joe was so incredibly healthy. Both of you knew each other’s boundaries and respected them, had the best communication possible, and were completely and irrevocably in love with each other. 

“Healthy unlike this breakfast,” he laughed as he loaded your dirty dishes onto the cart to leave outside your door for the staff to take away.

“So, what’s the plan for today,” you said as you turned around in your chair and watched Joe.

“Well, I was thinking we take it easy. We can go down to the beach club downstairs and walk around for a bit since our boat is at the docks there so we can check it out and drop off the bag but we won’t be going on till a little later. If you want we can also go shopping around Rue d'Antibes and La Croisette,” he said as he opened the door to leave the cart outside.

“Nice pronunciation,” you giggled. 

“I’ve been practicing. I asked the receptionist downstairs how to pronounce the street names,” he smiled as he turned around to close the door. “Then we’ll just be on the boat and in the water until our sunset dinner on the boat,” he said, walking back over to you with your beach bag and sunglasses in hand. You packed your bag with various types of sunscreens, both your change of clothes, your film camera, and any other personal care items you’d need on the boat.

“Sounds perfect,” you smile. “After dinner, we should walk to the bakery around the corner from the hotel and pick up some sweet treats,”. 

“Whatever you want,” he said, holding out his hand for you to grab. “You ready?”.

“Mhm,” you smiled, placing your hand in his and getting up from your chair. “Wait, let me take care of these first,” you said, pointing at the love bites on his neck, a laugh escaping his lips as you dragged him to the bathroom.

A little later 

You and Joe walked around the beach club for a little while, taking in the gorgeous sun and crystal blue water and checking out the boat before sitting at one of the beachside tables for a few drinks. You weren’t usually drinking this early in the day, but a few Mimosa’s didn’t hurt, especially if you were going to spend a few hours shopping. 

Now you were in maybe the 4th or 5th store on your little shopping expedition, Joe picking out some pieces for the upcoming season and you helping him while also doing your own bit of looking. 

“I wish Kyle was with us since he is your stylist for this trip. He might’ve been able to give some opinions on these game-day outfits,” you said as you looked through the rack in front of you in the Saks store, all your favorite designer clothes in one spot. 

“Are you saying I’m incapable of picking out my game-day fits on my own?” he scoffed, his mouth wide open as he was slightly offended. 

You stopped rummaging through the racks and spun around, “I’ve told you multiple times that your game-day outfits send me into orbit,” you say as you give him a look that needs no explanation. “You don’t need anyone’s help, but I feel like a new person’s opinion might add some pizzazz,”. 

“You are the new person. You didn’t shop with me last off-season too much so I mean,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “The floor is yours,”. 

You raise your eyebrow and flash him a big smile, “Oookay, but you asked for this not me,”. 

You picked out various new pieces for Joe to try on while he insisted that he pick out some things for you as well. Joe liked more street-style outfits so you decided to follow that idea but add your own flair to it. You chose some more trendy but “Joe-like” shirts for him, new types of pants (so he would finally stop with the grey jeans), and some other things such as jackets and accessories he’d like. 

When Joe came back to you, he had absolutely nothing in his hand, making you let out a laugh as you looked over to the pile you and the assistant had set aside for him.

“Couldn’t find anything?” you teased as you pulled him closer.

“Actually, I found too much that they couldn’t carry it over,” he winked. 

“We haven’t even made it to Paris yet and we already shopped so much,” you said as you dropped your head onto his shoulder. 

“We get a free pass this one time,” he said, rubbing your back before giving your butt a soft pinch which makes you pull away.

“Joe, if someone sees,” you laughed, giving him another look that needed no explanation. 

“We’re fine. The staff knew us and didn’t say anything to us the other people in the store seemed to be minding their business, although I did notice a few stares and whispers but it is what it is,” he shrugged. “It’s just you and me. Pretend that nobody’s here,”. 

“I guess this is what we wanted to happen anyway. Only a matter of time before a picture of us pops up online,” you smiled, feeling comfortable with the thought of people seeing you out together.  

“Good thing we look good today,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Now, come see the stuff I picked out for you,” he said as he grabbed your hand and led you to the other side of the store. 

An hour later, you were walking out with a concerning amount of bags and were on your way back to the hotel to drop them off; the rest of the stuff from the other stores was delivered to your room so you didn’t need to worry about those. 

“Wait, can we go in there for just a sec,” he said, stopping and pointing at the Cartier store. 

“Don’t you have enough sunglasses,” you say, rolling your eyes and walking towards the store. 

“Not going in here for those. I actually have something to pick up,” he said, acting mildly suspicious as he opened the door for you.

When you walk in, a worker immediately greets you both and leads you back to the Jewelry Counter, Joe walks in front of you and whispers something to the assistant before turning around and grabbing your hand. 

“Joe…” you say as he pulls out a chair for you.

“Yes, ma copine parfaite et chaude?” he smirked, squeezing in some more French he learned the other day. 

“Hm?” you asked, incredibly confused as you sat down in the velvet red chair. When did he have the time to learn all this French?

“Yes, my perfect and hot girlfriend,” he whispered in your ear before sitting down next to you. 

A blush crept up your face and you felt yourself get hot from his words, trying to keep your composure and figure out what you were doing here. “Um, why are we here?” you struggled to get out. 

“I told you,” he said as he looked forward at the Jeweler walking in with 2 trademark red Cartier boxes. “I had something to pick up,”. 

“Welcome Mr. Burrow and Ms. Y/LN,” the man smiled as he sat down in front of you. “I hope you have been enjoying Cannes so far,”.

“We’ve been having a lot of fun,” Joe smiled at the man. “Thanks for doing this Roger,”.

Roger, his name was Roger. Why did Joe know Roger? And what was in those boxes in front of you?

“Ah, no problem Mr. Burrow. Anything for the best Cartier-wearing Quarterback in the NFL,” he smiled as he turned the boxes around to face you both. 

Joe laughed at his response and threaded his fingers through his hair before looking over at you, studying your stupefied facial expression. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re up to?” you asked.

“I think he should show you,” Joe said, Roger grabbing your attention as he unhooked the clasp of the boxes, opened them, and showed whatever was inside to you.

Your mouth dropped as you looked at what was in front of you. It was two bracelets, 1 of them having a black braided band and the other being a gold band, like a bangle you could clasp on. The bracelet had a gold letter “J” and “(your initial)” attached to it, one on the left of the bracelet and one on the right. In the middle, holding both letters together, was a gold infinity symbol decorated with diamonds. 

“Joe..” you whispered as you felt your heart flutter at the jewelry in front of you.

“Custom made to Mr. Burrow’s liking using our finest gold and jewels,” Roger added.

Joe was looking at you the entire time, taking note of how your eyes softened when he opened the boxes and how your cheeks turned pink when you realized what you were looking at. 

“When did you…How did you..,” you said as you turned your head to face him.

“Mhm, I think I’ll leave you two alone for a moment,” Roger said as he got up. 

“Thanks, Roger,” Joe nodded as he turned back to you. 

“When my agent told me about this whole Cannes and Paris thing. I wanted to do something special for us and I wanted to make it memorable so we’d remember this week. I thought about just surprising you with another necklace or something but that didn’t feel special enough,” he said.

“Joe,” you said, choking up a little as you felt tears forming in your eyes.

“Sooo, I found a Cartier store closest to where we would be staying and talked to Roger here, pulled a few strings, and designed the bracelets with him, and well,” he added as he picked up your bracelet, opening the clasp and grabbing your hand to put it on your wrist. He closed the clasp and turned your wrist around, running his fingers over the initials and infinity symbol before pressing a kiss to it. “This is it. You and Me. You know how I feel about you and I know that it hasn’t even been a year yet but I couldn’t imagine doing anything of this without you. I’ve never felt this way about a girl before and I’ve only felt it for you, and I intend for you to be the only girl that can make me feel like this,”. 

How was it possible that you were falling even more in love with him? You thought that you’d already reached maximum head over heels-ness, but here you were feeling your heart grow and the amount of love you had for him increase. 

“I love you. I love you so very much, Joe,” you sniffled before leaning in and kissing him, keeping it innocent since you were around quite a few people. 

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You literally keep beating yourself every time you do something like this,” you laughed as you wiped the few tears falling from your eyes.

“And I plan to keep doing so for the rest of my life,” he said as he grabbed his bracelet. “I chose the braided black band for me because it felt more like me. The gold band is definitely you,”. 

“I don’t plan on ever taking it off, just like the necklace,” you smiled, referring to the initial necklace he gave you for your one month anniversary. You never took it off, not because he ‘owned’ you and needed people to know, but because he really knew you and you wanted people to know. “Wait if you got the braided band..Please tell me you don’t plan on wearing that in a game,” you gasped. 

“No, definitely not. I would never risk it getting damaged out there. I will however be wearing it as much as I can when I'm not on the field or doing anything physical that could damage it,” he said as slipped it onto his empty wrist. “Wait, I almost forgot. Take your bracelet off real quick,”. 

“Okay?” you chuckled as you unclasped it and handed it to him.

“I got something engraved on the inside. Here, look,” he said as he opened it up a bit more for you to read the text on the inside of the band. 

⋆｡°✩ The Stars All Aligned ⋆｡°✩  - J.B.

Didn’t he say that to you this morning? How long had he been waiting to say that to you?

“You’re perfect. Quite literally crafted by Cupid and the Angels. I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve you but I'm so glad you’re mine,” you said as you looked back up into his love-struck eyes. 

“I love you,” he said as he kissed your cheek. 

After a few more moments of fawning over the bracelets and his adorable romantic gesture, you both found Roger and personally thanked him for helping orchestrate the surprise, especially since Cartier rarely did anything custom like this for clients. After a few moments of chatting and wandering around the store, You and Joe walked out of the store with two more bags in your hands, one with the boxes for the bracelets and the other filled with stuff Joe bought. 

“You and them damn Cartier shades,” you said as you shook your head. 

“Listen, I couldn't resist. They looked really good. The pink ones I got for you are going to look so good on game day,” he shrugged. 

“Whatever you say,” you laughed as you spun around and started walking backward, still facing him. “I can’t wait to get on the boat and be wearing minimal clothing. It’s hot as hell right now,”. 

“Forget Minimal, you don’t have to be wearing any clothing on the boat if you don’t want to,” he winked.

“Joe!” you gasped as you stopped, causing him to bump into you. 

“What? I’m sure everyone would enjoy the view. I know I do,” he teased, your mouth hanging open as he was standing so incredibly close to you, his face just inches from yours.

You were about to say something but saw a group of girls and guys stop a little bit behind you, their hands seemingly over their mouths. “Oh my god. Is that them?” one of the girls gasped. 

You looked at Joe, a smile on both your faces as you listened to the group, acting like you weren’t eavesdropping by turning around to face the buildings in front of you. Joe nonchalantly snaked his arm around your waist and whispered into your ear, “I think we’ve been caught,”. 

“Dude I think it is. Holy Shit I didn’t think the rumors were true,” the other girl said. 

“Damn, Joey B is really winning at life,” one of the guys laughed. “Y/N is hot as hell,”.

Your eyes widened when you heard the teenage boy, probably somewhere around the age of 17 say that. “Oh my god,” you whispered as your cheeks turned pink. 

“You know what? I’m not even mad that he said that. You are hot as fuck,” Joe whispered into your ear, prompting you to bump into his shoulder. 

“Wait because this is insane. I would’ve never thought they’d end up together but I’m so here for it,” the other girl whispered, or tried to whisper at least. 

“I mean she was at the games in January. What’d you guys expect? I heard she liked football before she went to the Bengals game but that wasn’t her favorite team,” the other guy added. 

“Well, it definitely is now,” the first girl cooed. 

“I guess the cats outta the bag. Oh well,” you whispered into Joe’s ear, no other thoughts in your mind. You didn’t care if people saw you together. You were happy and that’s all that mattered.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked, softly squeezing your hip.

“Yes, please. I’m melting right now,” you laughed as you placed your hand around his waist. 

After reaching the hotel and dropping off your bags inside your room, you walked back down to the beach club and had a quick bite to eat before making your way to the docks where the boat was waiting.  

Joe got on first, extending his hand to help you on. “Thank you,” you said as you reached up to kiss his cheek. While Joe was talking to the captain, you slipped into the bathroom to take your dress off, the lovebite from last night fading but still visible making you blush. While you were in there you clipped your hair back and put some sunscreen on your frontside and legs, not being able to reach your back so you’d ask Joe to do it. 

After freshening up, you went back out to the boat, noticing that you had departed the docks and were now out on the crystal blue Riviera waters. 

“You look incredible,” Joe said from behind you. You flipped around, your heart skipping a beat as you saw him in just his swim trunks and sunglasses, his chiseled chest on display and his muscular arms making you feel hot all over. 

“Not too bad yourself,” you purred as you sat down on the tanning chair. “What’d the captain say?” you said as you pulled out the sunscreens from your beach bag.

“He said we’d be circling around the Riviera but stopping at a good spot if we wanted to get in the water. Then I told him for dinner to stop at the docks a little further down from our docks because there’s a good beachfront restaurant that said they can serve us on here,”.

“You really planned everything out,” you smiled at him.

“That I did,” he said as he sat down next to you.

You pulled out the lotion and put it in front of him, “Can you get my back, and then I can do you?”.

Joe raised his eyebrow at the offer, his mind wandering to some other things that this innocent task could lead to.

“No funny business, Joe,” you said as you sent him a look. “I mean it this time,”.

“I got you,” he laughed as he sat down on the chair next to you while you lay flat on your stomach. He squeezed out a good amount of sunscreen before placing the bottle down. You felt his big hands start at your shoulders, rubbing the lotion into your skin before sliding down your back. His fingers expertly massaged your skin the way you loved, a few innocent moans leaving your lips making Joe laugh.

You turned your head to the side and looked up at him again with the same look, his face going back to seriousness which made you let out a little laugh. He then slid his hands down to your butt, softly squeezing it as he worked the last bit of sunscreen around your skin. 

“You’re good,” he smiled as he moved his hands off of you. 

“Thank you, Joey,” you said as you sat up. “Now lay on your stomach so I can get your back,”.

“I think I’ll be fine. I want a nice tan,” he said.

“Absolutely not. You burn too easily and there’s a big difference between tan and burnt,” you said as you got up from your chair and grabbed the bottle. “On your stomach,” you motioned. 

“Fine,” he sighed, admitting defeat as he turned around.

You placed a leg on each side of his waist, straddling him as you squeezed out a dab of sunscreen before tossing the bottle to the side. You started at his shoulders, working your way down as you gave him a nice massage at the same time, a few groans leaving his lips as he closed his eyes. You smiled at the sounds leaving his lips, Joe loved a good massage. 

“This would be nice with no clothes,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes as you moved your hands to his arms, first grabbing the bottle to squeeze out more sunscreen, “Why are you extra worked up this week?”.

“You tell me,” he said, turning his head around and giving you a good look up and down. 

He never failed to make you feel extra good about yourself. His looks, his touch, his comments. All of it made you feel like a diamond. 

“You’re sweet,” you replied as you sent him an air kiss as you quickly rubbed the last bit of sunscreen on his arms. “Flip over,”. 

You sat up on your knees so that he could turn around underneath you, then once he got settled sat back down, still straddling him. “This is all too familiar,” he said as he pushed his sunglasses down. You on top of him like this was a little too risky but you had to make sure he didn’t burn in the sun.  

You shook your head as you squeezed more sunscreen onto your palm and spread it along his perfectly crafted chest and torso, pressing a few kisses to his chest while you were at it. His hands settled on your hips, kneading your plush skin as you made sure to get every corner of him protected by the sunscreen. 

“If you put any more on I think I'm going to turn the same color as this chair,” he joked.

“Okay,” you said as you dropped the bottle in the bag. “I’ll stop but at least now you won’t get burnt,”.

“Thank you,” he said as he moved his sunglasses to the top of his head. God, he looked so good right now. His hair was in the perfect position, his skin was glowing, his eyes were twinkling, and he was all yours. 

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled as you leaned down to kiss him, his grip on your waist tightening as your hands cupped his face. 

You were all over each other for what felt like an hour, not caring about anything since you were out on the open waters, just the two of you. You don’t even remember when he picked you up and laid you down on the daybed because you were so lost in his lips you had zero coherent thoughts in your mind. 

Suddenly, he pulled away, a cheeky grin on his face. “What’s got you so worked up?” he said as he raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been on my lips for almost an hour,”. 

“Really funny, Joe,” you laughed as you turned to lay on your back, the sun now covering your body. 

“Wait, I didn’t mean to stop,” he said, sadness creeping up on his face.

“Mmm, I think we need a second to breathe so that we don’t die from heat exhaustion and lack of oxygen,” you joked as you threw your leg over his.

“Fair point,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest, your bodies fitting together naturally making you both instantly comfortable. 

A few quiet moments later, Joe spoke up. “I still can’t believe this is real life,”.

You moved your head up to look at him, his eyes looking off into the sky. “I’m playing football in the NFL, people know who I am, I’m in fucking France right now, and I’m dating the most extraordinary and talented woman to grace the earth and I get to spend all of my time with her. Literally, what is my life,” he mumbled. 

“Joe…,” you cooed. As crazy as his life was, he could never be able to comprehend that this was his life.

You turned to lay on your stomach again, resting your chin on his chest which made him look down at you. “You know what the one thing that really stuck out to me and made me fall in love with you was?”.

“What?” He smiled.

“The fact that you’re such a softie. You’re such a sappy softie in there,” you said as you pointed to his heart. “But on the outside, you’re this calm, cool, collected, smoke show Quarterback. You can do both and that’s what made me fall for you. And you let me see that sappy part of you, which makes it even more special,”. 

As you were talking, you saw how his cheeks turned a little red, something that would often happen when you started talking like this. 

“I know I’ve said it at least 15 times today, but I love you,” he said while picking up your hand and kissing the bracelet on your wrist. 

“I love you too. Like a lot, if that wasn’t clear,” you giggled. 

“Oh, it’s clear. Very clear,” he nodded as he started to get up. “Since you love me so much, you wanna go make some drinks with me and lay out in the sun so I can get a little tan?” he asked like a little kid. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you smiled as you got up with him, the smile on your face the biggest it’s probably been in a long time. Joe made you happy, truly happy and everything that came out of his mouth just made it better. 

Two hours later 

You spent some time lounging on the chairs, tanning, and sipping on some cocktails you whipped up in the mini bar inside while talking more about what the rest of the week would look like. You also spent some time taking in the distant view of the City, seeing all the beautiful architecture and scenery from a distance, making a note that you should come back here at some point but spend a whole week here rather than a few days 

Then, the boat stopped in the middle of the Riviera; they also brought out a few floaties and water mats for you both to use out on the water. Joe dragged you in with him, insisting that you take a dip in the cool water for just a bit, but you insisted on using his body as a floatation device the entire time.

After swimming around for a bit, or well, letting Joe swim around while you were stuck to his back, you were sitting on the floating water mat. Joe was sitting criss-cross and you laid across his legs on your back, soaking up the sun as he was absentmindedly rubbing your thigh. 

He looked down at you, seeing how peaceful you looked with your eyes closed when an idea popped into his head. He carefully slid his hands underneath you, almost as if he was picking you up bridal style. You didn’t say anything because you thought he was just re-adjusting you in his lap, but then you felt him lift you into the air. 

“Joe..What’re you…Ahhh!” you screamed as he gently dropped you back into the water.

You swam back up to the surface, wiping your hand across your face as you watched him laugh and your disheveled appearance. 

“That’s not funny,” you frowned, trying hard not to give him the satisfaction of laughing at the situation. 

“Aw, does someone not like the water,” he laughed as he watched you try not to laugh, which you were struggling to do. 

“I don’t like not being told when I’m being thrown into the water,” you huffed. 

“You’re so cute when you're mad,” he grinned.

“And you’re cute when you're not throwing your lovely girlfriend into the water without warning,” you said as you batted your lashes at him, purely out of teasing.

“Fine,” he sighed as he extended his hand out to help you back onto the mat. 

You put your hand in his, getting an idea while gripping it tightly. You use all of your strength to pull him down into the water with you, “Y/N, what are you-,” he said before his big body made a splash into the water next to you as you broke out in a fit of laughter. 

You laughed for a few seconds, expecting him to come back up a few seconds later but when you don’t see him come back up, you get worried.

“Joe? Where’d you go?” you said before you felt two hands wrap around your legs underneath you and lift you into the air, sending you backward into the water. Joe came up, another grin on his face as he watched you come back up from the water again.

“Two for Two,” he winked. 

“No fair,” you laughed as you splashed him with water. “You’re like 50 times stronger than me,” you said as you swam closer to him. 

“Join me next time I’m in the gym and we can buff you up more,” he smiled as he pulled you closer.

“Us, in the gym, with nobody around, sweaty, and all worked up? I don’t think I’ll be getting buff, I think I’ll be burning calories doing something else,” you purred.

“And I’m the one that’s worked up,” he said as he raised his eyebrows, you shook your head as your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled him in for another sweet kiss.

“You wanna go back inside and make some more drinks?” you asked him.

“Sure, but we’re going to be so drunk by dinner time,” he said as he swam you both over to the steps. “Those tropical rum margaritas are strong as hell,”. 

“I think we’ll be fine,” you smiled.

Evening Time (Around the Sunset)

You, in fact, were not fine.

You both had one too many drinks after you got back onto the boat that you could barely stand up in the shower when you went to freshen up for dinner. You got lucky and managed to do your hair and makeup without any mishaps occurring, but you were still very tipsy and the drinks being served with your dinner tonight were not helping.

They had set up a nice spread of food on the little dining table on the boat, Joe sat across from you as you spent a few spare moments taking pictures of him on your treasured film camera. “The sunset looks good behind you,” you giggled as you tried to take a picture of him, but the alcohol in your system made it hard for you to focus.

“Oo, get a picture of the food too,” he said pointing at the delicious spread in front of you.

“Part-time food blogger. I like it,” you nodded as you pointed the camera at the food, snapping a few shots before putting the camera down. 

Joe grabbed his phone, opened the camera, and snapped a few pictures of you. "You look so beautiful," he smiled as he continued to snap some pics.

"Love you," you said to him, a rosy blush on your face that wasn't from sitting in the sun today.

You grabbed your glass of wine, taking a nice gulp before placing it back down, Joe doing the same before you started to dig into the food in front of you. You don’t remember how many glasses of wine you went through with your food, all you knew was that by the end of the dinner, you could barely remember why you were in France in the first place. 

Joe got up from his chair, almost stumbling back down into the chair as he shook his head. “Whew, I am so drunk,” he laughed as he helped you out of your chair and brought you back over to the day bed. 

“Join the Club,” you giggled as you plopped down. 

“Do you think the Aliens like France?” he asked you as he dropped down next to you, grabbing your legs and placing them in his lap.

“Hmmm,” you thought as you twirled your hair. “I think they’d like it if they came here,”.

“You don’t think they’re already here?” he drunkenly asked you.

“Nope. I think they like to stay over where we are because we don’t bother them. I think French people would freak if they saw an alien and probably throw macaroons at them,” you mumbled as you played with the wristbands on Joe’s wrist. 

“I mean, we did try to storm Area 51. I think they were probably pretty mad about that,” Joe nodded.

“Trueee,” you gasped. “I hope they aren’t lonely in there. They should be free and get to live life like we do,” you frowned. 

God, you were so drunk. 

“What if they are? You remember the farmer aliens in that one Spongebob episode we watched last week?”. 

“Yeah,” you giggled.

“What if we have farmer aliens out in the midwest and just have no idea since we never go out there?” he said, being 100% serious about what he was saying.

“Oh my god, you’re probably right,” you gasped. “I wonder if they play instruments like the ones in SpongeBob,”. 

“We should go farmer alien-hunting when we get back,” he smiled as he pulled out his phone. 

“Oh, 100%,” you nodded as you watched him tap some things on his phone.

“I need your opinion on something,” he said as he looked back up at you.

“Shoot,” you said as you leaned back. 

“Should I get these?” he said, turning his phone around to show you the very expensive Lego Eiffel Tower and Milky Way set he had added to his cart.

“Joe,” you laughed as you grabbed his phone. “This Eiffel Tower one is 10,000 pieces and 700 dollars and the Milky Way set is 3,000 pieces and 200 dollars,”.

“So,” he shrugged. “I’m rich remember,”.

Normally you’d shut this down real fast because you knew he didn’t have the time to put these together so it would be a waste of money, but you were so drunk that all your logic and sense went out the window.

“Okay!” you chirped as you handed him back the phone. “Order them now so we can build them when we get back,”. 

“Great idea,” he nodded as he quickly purchased the Lego sets. 

It was a terrible idea. You should pray for your future self when she comes home to 900 dollars worth of Legos at the front door that neither of you had enough time to build.

While he was tapping away on his phone, you looked out onto the peaceful open water, lost in a trance before you saw the boat lights turn on, brightening your once-dark surroundings.

“The lights,” you gasped as you looked up and the fairy string lights and lamps, the soft music playing in the background adding to the scene. You got up from the day bed and started twirling around, dancing to the song in the background as Joe sat there and watched you, his eyes watching your every step, his heart growing bigger every time you looked back at him. 

He was out of his mind drunk right now, but he was sober enough to mean what he was just about to say.

“Let’s get married,” Joe said, making you flip around with your eyes wide open. 

“What?” you giggled, the alcohol in your system in full effect so whatever he was saying wasn’t really registering in your brain.

“I said, let’s get married,” he mumbled as he got up. 

“Joe, we’re drunk as hell,” you laughed as he grabbed your waist.

"I'm totally, absolutely, not at all drunk at all. Like... at all,” he said, stumbling over his words.

“Mhmmm,” you nodded. “And I’m a princess,”. 

“I’m serious, Y/N. I know we’ve only known each other for a year, but marry me. It doesn’t have to be today, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but marry me,” he said. “You’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me and I never want it to end. I need you,”. 

Although he was drunk right now, part of you knew he was being serious when he said that. Everything he did for you and said to you made what he was saying right now absolutely genuine.

“It’s you and me for infinity,” he said, looking down at your bracelet. “I love you in this life and in every lifetime after,” he smiled.

“I love you too, Joe. In every universe and every…uhh..dimension? Yeah, dimension,” you nodded, making him laugh at your drunken expression. 

“So what do you think? Would you want to marry me one day?” he asked you, his face absolutely adorable and sincere. “Unless this is too much for you. I don’t want to push you into an idea that you’re not ready for even if it is a bit into the future,”.

“If you asked me the same question 2 years ago, I would’ve thrown a drink in your face and bolted like hell. But you’re asking me now,” you said as you looped your arms around his neck. “Me now is happiest she’s ever been in all aspects of her life, in love love, comfortable, and is pleased with where she is,”.

“So to answer your question, Okay,” you smiled. 

“Really?” He said, his heart fluttering. 

“Mhm. As long as we get to have a bigggg cake and we get to invite allll our friends and family,” you say as you break free from his grasp and spin around to the music. “And for reference, I like princess cut,”.

“I’ll make you the best damn ring money can make,” he whispered to himself. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped as you stopped dancing.

“What?” He asked.

“Can we get a dog? We should get a dog,” you said as you moved back closer to him.

“Only if I get to name it ‘Gary’,” he said, a throaty laugh leaving his lips as his pupils dilated from the alcohol in his system. He was sooo drunk right now and neither of you would probably remember this conversation tomorrow morning. 

“Deal,” you chirped. Another gasp left your lips and your eyes lit up.

“Now what?” Joe chuckled as he pulled you closer.

“Can we have kids?” you pouted. “Pretty Pretty Pretty Pleaaaseee,”.

“Uhh, duh. Obviously, we’re going to have kids,” he agreed. 

“Yayyyy,” you squealed as you jumped up and down. 

“We’re going to have a mini quarterback and a mini musician running around at some point,” he smiled.

“I wonder if they’ll get both sets of talents. Mini QB can be an expert guitarist and vocalist while Mini Musician can kill it in sports just like her daddy,” you beamed. 

“We have one hell of a genetic pool,” he joked. 

“That we do. Like I said, you’re Troy from High School Musical,” you said as you bit your lip, knowing how he felt about that since he discovered his piano talent.

“Not again,” he said, dropping his head.

“Okay, I’ll stop..for now,” you said as you stumbled back, almost bumping into a chair and falling over, but Joe grabbed your hand and pulled you back forward.

“How did we get so drunk?” he sighed.

“I blame the aliens,” you huffed.

“Oh, so the aliens were the ones who kept making the margs?” he questioned.

“Duhh. It obviously wasn’t me,” you denied as you looked out to the water again, this time seeing your hotel and dock get closer. 

“How did we already make it back?” you said as you walked over to the ledge.

“I didn’t even notice when we left,” Joe said, joining you.

“It’s probably a good thing. We’re so far gone right now we need to be on land,” you said as you looked up at him. 

“Oh, I can’t wait to get back on land,” he said as he looked back down at you with his intense eyes, his hand slipping around your waist. “Have I told you how stunning you look right now?” he whispered into your ear.

“Have I told you how sexy you look in this baby blue button-up?”. He was wearing a blue button-up shirt with white shorts, the buttons on his shirt all the way open exposing his broad chest. 

“We’re a hot couple,” he laughed.

“Very hot,” you say as you lean in to kiss his cheek. 

After the Boat reached the dock, you and Joe thanked the captain for taking you around today. You grabbed your stuff and started to walk to the exit of the boat, but again you were so drunk that you were stumbling around and the heels you had on were making it worse. Joe slid his hand around your waist, firmly holding you as he helped you down the boat and onto the dock.

“Thanks for that. I’m one wrong step away from face-planting,” you said as you held onto him.

“Honestly, me too but at least we’d fall together,” he smiled as you both stumbled back to the hotel. 

“Oh wait, did you still want to go to that dessert shop you were talking about this morning?” he asked as he stopped.

“Hmmmm,” you thought as you looked at Joe, feeling a flutter inside your belly when you looked at him up and down. He looked so good right now, a literal piece of art. 

“We can wait until tomorrow. All I care about right now is getting back inside our room,” you winked.

“Oh really?” he said, squeezing your waist before dropping his hand to your ass.

You were about to say something else before you felt your phone buzz, pulling it out to see a text from your manager.

“Who is it?” Joe asked as you two reached the door to the Hotel. 

“Oh, it's my manager. She said..

There are photos of you and Joe online from earlier, reaction looks pretty positive and a lot of people are confused but pleasantly surprised! Glad to see you two having fun :) Enjoy the trip! 

“Well I guess everyone knows now,” he said as he opened the door for you.

“Hm, I guess they do,” you said as you tucked your phone away, then pulled Joe toward you by his arm, crashing your lips against his and backing up against the wall. 

“Y/N, what if someone sees?” he asked as he pulled away. 

“Let them see then,” you smiled against his lips, watching his eyes scan yours for a few seconds before feeling his lips against yours, this time harder than before.

You felt him move down, pressing kisses down your neck to your chest as you threaded your fingers through his hair. “Joe,” you whimpered.

“What?” he looked up at you with heart eyes.

“Room. Now,” you urged as you felt him grab your hand and pull you over to the elevator, luckily nobody was inside so you could get up to your room as fast as possible. You pushed the button for your floor, Joe’s mouth going back to your neck as you tilted your head back to give him more room. 

His other hand grabbed your ass, softly squeezing your plush skin through the tight fabric of your dress as he left another purple spot on your neck.

“Joe,” you moaned loudly as he touched your sweet spot, your cheeks turning red at the sound that left your mouth.

You then heard the elevator stop, the doors opening as Joe moved off of you. “Thanks for the preview,” he smiled as he pulled you out of the elevator, once again picking you up bridal style just like last night.

“I could get used to this,” you smiled as he walked over to your door, quickly unlocking it and rushing you to the bedroom without giving it a second thought.

He gently placed you down on the bed, your eyes looking over at the bathroom. “What about the Jacuzzi Tub?”. 

“We can save that for tomorrow night. I need you, now,” he said, desperately flinging his shirt off. 

“Okay,” you smiled as you sat back up, Joe walking out of the room without saying a word.

“Hm, weird,” you said as you started to slip the straps of your dress down and untie your heels.

A few moments later, he walked back in, a little silver bucket in his hand. 

“What’s that,” you said, his eyes looking back up and seeing you in your matching white lace bra and panties, one of his favorites on you.

“Ice,” he said as he placed the bucket on the side table next to the bed, heat rising up your body at the mention of that. 

“Cool,” you smiled as you grabbed his bicep, not bothering to ask him about the ice, pulling him onto the bed and on top of you as you fell back against the pillows, your lips on each other again. 

Joe reached behind you, unclasping your bra and gently slipping the straps off your shoulder before returning back to kissing your chest. He wrapped his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud causing soft moans to leave your lips. While he was doing so, he reached his arm out to the table, sticking his hand in the ice bucket to grab a cube. 

He pulled away and brought the ice cube into your view, your cheeks turning another shade of pink because you knew what he was going to do. He pressed the cube to your collarbone, the icy cold touch making your breath hitch.

“Joe,” you whined, feeling the ice cube travel down to the valley of your breasts, his lips returning to your skin, pressing feather-light kisses as you squirmed under his touch. 

The cool wet trail the ice cube was leaving behind was making you even more needy, wanting nothing more than to feel Joe in every way possible, but he was taking his time. 

He grabbed another ice cube, this time pressing it against your nipples, “Fuck,” you cried out.

“You good?” he asked, making sure you were okay.

“I’m…great,” you whimpered, the ice sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body, 

He then moved the ice cube down your stomach, your hips jerking at the feeling of the sudden coolness, your core feeling slicker as he continued to work his way down your body. The ice makes your skin tingle, and the feeling of coldness intensifies your already heightened thoughts which creates a numbing sensation.

“Mmph,” you moaned as you bit your lip, feeling the ice move down to your core, a cheeky grin on Joe’s face.

You then feel him press the ice cube against your folds through your lace panties, another moan, this time a little louder than before, leaving your lips.

“Joe,” you moaned, immediately covering your mouth with your hand because of how loud that was. The alcohol in your system mixed with the feeling of ice on your bare body was making you feel like you were floating on a cloud of ecstasy. 

“No need to be quiet,” he said, popping the remains of the cube into his mouth. “Remember, it’s just us,” he smiled as he grabbed another ice cube, popping this one into his mouth as well. 

He leaned down, gazing into your eyes for a few seconds before pressing his cool lips against yours; the taste of alcohol was still evident, mixing with the coolness of the ice.

You put your hands in his hair again as you pulled him in closer, the ice cube slipping in between his lips and entering your mouth. 

“Mm,” Joe hummed as he smiled into the kiss, the shared coolness between you feeling like a breath of fresh air. The feeling of the ice between your lips which were pressed against his was unlike anything you’d felt before, and you loved it. 

You pulled away from the kiss, both your cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, “Joe, I need you,” you rasped. 

You didn’t need to say anything else for Joe to get off of you, kick his shorts and boxers off while also sliding your panties off. He settled on top of you, giving you another kiss as he slid his fingers through your drenched folds.

“Damn,” he laughed.

“Joeee, please,” you pleaded as you pulled on the strands of his hair.

He moved his head down to press kisses along your jaw as he guided his cock through your folds, pushing into your core without warning. 

“Fuck,” you moaned as you threw your head to the side. Joe set a hungry pace, thrusting into your core with no interest in slowing down, sending you further into the bed each time. 

“Oh,” you moaned loudly as he pounded into your slick core, no coherent thoughts in your head at the moment as he was focused on sending your body to its pleasure point.

You moved your hands to his back, scratching his soft skin which would surely leave a few red marks. “Y/N, you feel so good,” he hissed as he cupped his hand behind your knee, lifting your leg and opening you up more. 

“Baby,” you screamed as he continued to fuck you senselessly, his cock hitting every single sweet spot with each thrust. 

You looked down, watching where you two were connected, the sight of his cock slipping into your wet heat making your eyes roll back to the back of your head, “F-Fuck,” you whined. 

He moved his head back down to yours, his sweet lips finding their home against yours as you moaned into him.

After a few more rough thrusts, you felt your pleasure building up inside your body. Joe always did most of the work when it came to sex, not because you didn’t want to, but because he always wanted to make you feel good but now you wanted to let him sit back while you did the same for him. You pulled away from his lips, “Joe, let me ride you,” you whimpered.

“Are you sure?” he panted as he slowed his thrusts. 

“Mhm,” you nodded as you took a deep breath, your core gently clenching around his cock. 

He pressed a final kiss to your lips before sliding out of you and falling back against the sheets next to you. 

You quickly got up and straddled his waist, giving his cock a few pumps before guiding it back inside of you, “Shit,” you moaned as you threw your head back. 

Your hands settled on his chest as his hands settled on your hips, guiding you back and forth as you slid down his length. 

“Y/N…god,” he moaned as he looked up at you, watching you take control and letting him relax. His hands moving up to cup your breast, giving it a soft squeeze as you let out another moan.

“Joe, I’m so close,” you panted as you picked up the pace, digging your nails into his skin at the same time. Soft moans and praise came from his lips, making you smile and feel more confident each time.

“I’ve got you,” he said as he gripped you tighter and started to thrust up into you.

You felt the tension in your stomach increase, your breaths coming out in short gasps, and your cheeks heating up. “Oh, Joe,” you moaned as you fell forward, your lips crashing against his as you continued to move against him, the sounds of your wetness filling the room.

A few seconds later, you felt your orgasm rip through your body, almost feeling like you were about to black out by how your walls were convulsing around his cock, which was still moving inside of you. 

“Mm, I’m close,” Joe moaned. 

You used your hand to move his messy hair out of his face before kissing him again, picking up the pace again even though your knees were about to give out. Your walls were still clenching his shaft and you were still trying to come down from your intense high, but you had to make him feel good. You sucked on his bottom lip as you ran your fingers around his neck, a few seconds later feeling him coat your walls with his cum.

“Oh my god,” he moaned, his hands running down your sides as you peppered kisses along his jaw.

“You are a dream,” Joe said as he squeezed your waist, grabbing your hand and pressing kisses all around your palm.  

“Fuck, Joe,” you panted as you carefully slid off of him, then fell forward onto his chest as he wrapped his arms around your body, pressing a few kisses on your cheek while you both tried to regain your senses.

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear. 

“Je t'aime,” Joe said to you, saying ‘I love you’ but in French.

You pressed another kiss to his face before feeling your eyes flutter shut, your heart exploding from love and happiness.

An hour-ish later 

You both took a power nap for a little bit to recover from your activities before hopping in the shower to rinse off. Right now, both of you were in your robes in the kitchen, trying to beat the morning hangover by drinking a glass of lemon water.

“I’m never drinking this much again,” you said as you leaned against the counter. “I don’t feel the hangover yet but I already know it’s going to be bad,”.

“I’m just glad the panel isn’t tomorrow. I’d actually be screwed,” he said as he placed his glass down on the table.

“That would for sure be the biggest headline. ‘Joe Burrow has a massive hangover during a Rare public appearance at a panel in Cannes’,” you mock. 

“Bigger headline than our relationship? I peeked at my phone and it’s blowing up with texts from people that don’t know about us and notifications from news articles talking about you and me. People apparently think we just started dating or that we’re just hooking up and it’s not serious,” he laughed. “We should probably make our Instagram post soon,”. 

You nodded, “Ohhh, are they in for a treat when I drop this album,” as you turned around to put your empty glass in the sink behind you, Joe doing the same. 

You turned back around and were standing in front of him, face to face. Although you were still drunk, you felt a bit more in your senses than you did on the boat and Joe’s mention of wanting to marry you was still lingering in your mind even though you said yes. Was he being serious? 

He studied your facial expression, instantly knowing that you were thinking about something that was bothering you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he placed his hands on the counter on each side of you.

“Nothing,” you smiled as you met his eyes.

Joe tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, “Joe, seriously. I’m fine,” you deflected. 

He continued to look at you with a quizzical look, eventually your front breaking. 

“Fine,” you give in, making him smile. “Were you being serious earlier?”. 

“Being serious about what?” he asked. 

“About wanting to marry me?” you asked him, your voice a little quieter as you felt a little nervous asking him. If he brushed it off, that meant he was drunk and wasn’t being serious. You felt like he was being serious, but that doubt was still in your mind.

He looked deeply into your eyes for a few quiet moments, your stomach churning as you were waiting for him to speak up. 

“Of course, I was being serious,” he said. “I told you, it’s you and me. That’s all it is and all that there needs to be. You’re what I’ve been waiting for my entire life and I don’t ever want to let go, I don’t need anything else,”. 

You felt your eyes well with tears at his words. He wanted to marry you. One day, he would be your husband. You’d dreamed of meeting your prince charming one day and living your fairytale, and each time you thought you did, you’d end up living a nightmare instead, up until you met Joe. 

He was your real life Prince Charming and you were living your Fairytale. 

“You’re everything to me,” you said as you cupped his face. “I love you more than you can imagine, Joe. Thank you for changing my life,” you said to him, seeing his eyes become a little glossy because of your words. 

"No, Thank you for changing my life," Joe smiled.

He leaned forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips which quickly became heated as you stuffed your hands into his hair. Your lips moved against each other in a beautiful rhythm as you felt him cup your ass and lift you up onto the counter, his hands messing with the ties on your Robe as he moved down to your neck.

“Joe,” you moaned as you threw your head back. 

You felt him untie your robe, your nude body now exposed to the cool air of the suite. “Round 2?” he asked as he ran his big hands down your hips and to your thighs. 

“I’d be mad if we didn’t,” you smiled as you grabbed his robe tie and yanked it so that it came undone, his nude body now on display for you. 

You felt him thrust into you, hard and fast, as he peppered kisses on your bare shoulder. “Jesus, Baby,” he moaned into your ear, making you lean further back which gave Joe access to your breasts. His lips attacked them with gentle kisses and nips as he sank deeper into you, sounds of skin-hitting skin filled the room along with the noises coming from your mouths. 

“Fuck, Joe,” you whimpered as a smile rose onto your face. There was no place you’d rather be right now. You were truly the happiest you’d ever been, and Joe was the reason for it, and now you had the comfort of knowing he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

—The End—

(instagram post bit below)

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liked by joeyb_9 and others

tagged: joeyb_9

y/n_y/ln: we heard a rumor 👀

comments:

joeyb_9: i heard from a friend of a friend

——— y/n_y/ln: actually i heard it from aunt susan’s coworkers ex girlfriends sisters fiancée

lahjay_10: about damn time

fan_52: IT’S TRUE?

fan821: oh my god the albums going to be about him isn’t it.

——— fan 9822: it’s over for us.

y/bsf: heyyy lovebirds 😍😍

fan453: i’m so happy for her! joe is an amazing guy 🥹

fan662: this makes so much sense.

fan6227: JOE BURROW? WHAT THE FUCK?

fan18811: OH MY GOD OH MY GODDDDDD HOLY SHIT

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liked by y/n_y/ln and others

tagged: y/n/_y/ln

joeyb_9: 🚀

comments:

y/n_y/ln: launched straight into the stratosphere

——— joeyb_9: 👩‍🚀🧑‍🚀

y/n_y/ln: this caption is perfect for you

——— joeyb_9: you’re perfect for me

————— fan4: not them already flirting online 🤭

lahjay_10: yall are too cute

fan98: OH? OHHHH????

fan11: cincys royal couple 👑

fan197: see i knew i wasn’t crazy when i said we saw her around town these past few months

fan272: she’s gonna look great in stripes 🧡

fan8: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?? AHHWUFUEHF

sam_hubbard_: nice 😎

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[bobafetts-princess]

Surprise: The Sequel

Pairings: Ghost x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800

Warnings: PiV, we wrap shit up in this one, a little butt stuff, spit kink, biting, cursing, choking. Reader is a little subby here. This is a fic centered on the reader ovulating and being really horny. Heed warnings accordingly.

Author notes: Yes, this was written when I personally was ovulating and I needed an outlet. Please enjoy 😊

Companion piece to Surprise

“My back fucking hurts,” you grumble to yourself, not really meaning for anyone to hear. But Soap, with his fucking bat ears, does.

“Wan’ me to massage it for yah?” He drawls in his thick Scottish accent. He’s been eying you all day and you can’t figure out why. You’re not dressed any different, you didn’t do your hair any different. You didn’t flirt with him, at least anymore than normal. Soap is the type of guy you can flirt with without realizing it. He’s soft and easy-going with a big personality and the ability to make anyone feel special.

“Mind your business, Soap,” snaps Simon-Ghost-Lieutenant (you’re not really sure what to call him anymore) as he comes in the door. You’re sitting at a desk, writing reports on your latest mission and Soap is at his desk on the left of yours, writing his own.

“Aye L.T. But I do feel like her business is my business,” he chuckles and Ghost flicks him a look as he gets up.

“Why’s your back hurt, Blue?” Ghost asks, hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Not sure, L.T.,” you say but then a cramp hits your lower belly. It’s not your period, definitely not your period, that was two weeks ago. So this means- “Damnit,” you curse under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” Both men ask at the same time, Soap moving to stand by Ghost. Another cramp hits your stomach and you have to stifle a groan.

“Nothing important,” you tell them both but they don’t believe you. But Price walks in, looking for an update on the reports and the subject is dropped. He’s standing over your shoulder and you don’t miss the way he keeps looking down at you, the easy way he smiles at you.

“Looking good today, Blue. Did you do something different with your hair?” Price mentions and you know he doesn’t mean it to be creepy. He’s genuinely trying to be nice and give you a compliment, you don’t get many when your literal job is to commit crimes for the sake of queen and country. But you know the real reason he’s looking at you different.

Your ovulation cycle hits harder than your menstruation cycle, the older you get. Your cramps are worse and men tend to notice you more. They flirt with you easier, they check you out with more purpose. Your skin clears and has this tone to that makes you look perpetually flustered. It’s all very flattering but also, quite annoying. Biology is doing its work, but you don’t want it to. The thing that drives you most insane is that you preen under the attention. You like being noticed when you’re ovulating. You like the way Ghosts eyes are dragging across your hips. You like the easy smile Johnny gives you when he’s flirting. You like the way Price’s eyes struggle to stay in their rightful place.

“Nah, just brushed it this morning, that’s all Captain,” there’s a flash of something in his eyes when you call him by his rank but you can’t unpack it right now. You stand, surprising Price and mumble “I’ll be back,” before you bolt.

Ghost waits an appropriate amount of time before he follows, shoving back his chair with some lame excuse so he can follow you.

He finds you in seconds, heading down the hallway in the general direction of his quarters. As a lieutenant, he gets his own space and as he watches your hips sway he’s thankful for it.

“Blue,” he calls out and you still.

“Not now, Ghost,” you say but you don’t move. His long strides catch up to you in no time and his hand presses into your back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, and you sigh.

“I’m ovulating,” you tell him, pressing into his hand and relishing the feel of his warmth.

“What’s that mean?” He knows that’s your fertile period and you can get pregnant but he’s not sure on the specifics.

“I’m so horny,” you whine, twisting your neck to look up at him and he wants to dip down and run his nose alone the soft skin there. It takes your words a second to click but when they do, he’s shoving you down the hallway and into his room, locking the door behind him.

———————————

Ghost has you on your knees and you’re taking him. Your pussy is slick with your orgasms and your back is slick with sweat. You’re dropped down to your chest on the bed, fingers gripping the sheets as you cry out. It’s not helping though, because every one of Simon’s powerful thrusts pushes you up the bed.

“This fuckin’ pussy,” he snarls from under his mask. Since that day in the shower you’ve had this tryst going on regularly and it’s been satisfying for the both of you. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he grunts as his hand presses into your shoulders to hold you down. “Love when you submit to me,” he says but you think you can take it a step further. You move your hands from the sheets to behind your back, gripping your forearms as your face presses into the bed. Simon groans deeply as he slides his hand down your back to press down on your forearms. “Look so pretty takin’ my cock like this, Blue,” he snarls and you know he’s getting close. You’ve already cum several times, so you’re not concerned about finishing when he does, but Simon is. His hips ratchet up a notch and you hear the distinctive sound of something in Simon’s mouth. You’re about to peek over your shoulder to see what he’s doing when his thick thumb presses up against your asshole. You gasp and still underneath him as he presses circles into the tight ring.

“I’d love to watch you take me here,” he grunts before he pushes his thumb in. Your whole body tenses but you’re pinned. His hands are still pressing your own into your lower back and his finger in your ass is up to the first knuckle. You’re going to lose your mind, you can’t even scream because your face is pressed into the mattress. He continues pressing until he’s got his whole thumb in your ass and you’re gone. You’re so full, so thoroughly worked over that you when Ghost-Simon-whatever you’re calling each other these days, picks up his thrusts you’re blind with pleasure.

He’s putting you through the mattress, his hulking body pressing yours down. You break first, your body clamping down as you cum. He’s so heavy, so thick, and you’re so overwhelmed but Ghost isn’t done yet. He’s growling deep in his throat, snarling something about what a good little slut you are for him and you know he’s right at the edge of breaking. You feel something sharp against your shoulder and it takes you a few seconds to realize he sank his teeth into the soft flesh. He’d apparently never pulled his mask down after he’d wet his thumb and you feel his tongue soothe the sharp sting his bite left. You lay like that for a second, Ghost’s body laying across yours as you both pant with the exertion. Simon’s tongue licks a hot trail across your shoulder and up your neck, stopping at your ear.

“You’re a good fuck, Blue. Y’know that?” You laugh aloud because any kind of compliment coming from Simon Riley is noteworthy.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” you flash a grin at him as he peels off of you, moving to dispose the condom. He comes back and his mask is still pushed up to his nose and his grin would’ve knocked you over if you weren’t already laying down.

“Not so bad, eh? Do I need to split you apart on my cock again so you know how good I can be?” He chuckles, dark and dangerous as he crawls on the bed and stares down at you. His huge hand finds your throat, squeezing and reminding you just how dangerous he can be. But the only thing you feel right now is another how streak of lust through your nerve endings. Your nipples are tight and when he flicks them, a sharp gasp escapes your mouth. Ghost takes the opportunity at hand and pulls you up to him by the throat, shoving his tongue in your mouth. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed but it’s one of the only. You can feel him hardening against your thigh and you can feel how slick you are. His fingers squeeze as he trails his lips down your neck, over where his thumb is digging into the soft flesh.

You’re aching, ready to be filled again, when Ghost speaks in your ear.

“I want to taste you, Blue,” he grunts but you shake your head as best you can with his hand wrapped around your throat.

“Later. Want your cock,” you tell him and he nods, releasing you to get another condom. You desperately want to tell him not to use one, but you are smack in the middle of ovulating and the risk of pregnancy is much higher than if you weren’t. You’re not in a place where you can have a baby and you don’t think Simon is ready to be a father, he may not ever be. But god, the idea of dripping with his cum all day? It’s got you clenching between your legs.

Simon has the condom on, cock swinging between his thick thighs. He’d only managed to get his pants down to his knees the first time and the second time won’t be any different. He’s got a long sleeve shirt on bearing the British Army flag on it and even without all his tac gear he’s huge. Tall and bulky, with a menacing edge to him, you can see why people are terrified. But right now, all you are is horny. He slides between your thighs, lifting your hips and placing a pillow underneath them.

“Gonna take me?” He asks, circling a finger over your clit. You nod but he’s not content with that. “I asked you if you were going to take me, I expect an answer,” he growls from under his mask, pulled back down now.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you breathe as he presses the head of his cock into you.

“Yes, Lieutenant, what?” He snaps, one hand on your tit, the other on the base of his cock.

“Yes, Lieutenant,-“ you gasp as he pushes into you.

“Go on,” he prompts, almost all the way in now. “Or I won’t fuck you. You can lay here and be my pretty little cock sleeve,” you clench around him, wishing he’d wrap one of those big hands around your throat again.

“Yes, Lieutenant, I’m gonna take all of your cock. Please, I want to take all of your cock.”

“Good girl,” he growls, low in your ear as his hand wraps back around your throat. His thrusts start slow but it doesn’t take long before he’s hitching one thigh up his back, the other pressing you down and pushing you to your limits. He’s more vocal this time, grunts and growls as he sits back on his heels to give himself more leverage. He’s got to be sensitive, it’s the second time in less than 30 minutes, and it shows. His fingers tighten every couple thrusts until you nearly can’t breathe but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. The other hand finds your tits, groping them and pulling at your nipples. He presses the thumb of the hand around your neck into your jaw until your mouth pops open. He pulls the mask above his mouth, leaning down, his eyes wide with question and you nod at him, sticking your tongue out in invitation. He gathers in his mouth before he leans down, spitting directly into your mouth before he closes your jaw and speaks.

“Swallow it.” You do as he asks, opening your mouth again and sticking out your tongue to show him. He groans deeply, gathering his spit again and spitting on your tongue. This time though, he keeps his thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw so you don’t close it. “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he snarls, his accent thicker as he pounds into you, “take everythin’ I fuckin’ give ya, don’t ya?” You nod desperately at him, mouth still open, tongue still covered in his spit. “Fuck yeah, ya do. I’m goin’ to cum, I know you’re close.” You nod at him again, pussy tightening as he spits into your mouth again, closing your jaw and telling you to swallow.

“Next time you’re gonna swallow my cum jus’ like that,” he tells you before he leans back, pressing a thumb against your clit. It only takes one, two, three swipes of his thumb before you’re over the edge, crying out his name and clinging to the hand still wrapped around your throat. He follows right along with you, slumping his heavy body against yours. “This will never get old,” he says as he rolls to the side slightly, still laying on you but not quite with his full weight.

“Yeah,” you agree, out of breath and worn down. Finally sated.

“Is it always like this when you ovulate?” He asks, picking himself up and disposing of the condom, for the second time. You nod as he comes back and picks up your underwear off the floor.

“It gets worse as I get older, like evolution is telling me to get a move on.” You stand as Simon holds your hand and helps you into your panties. “My cramps get worse and I get almost unbearably horny,” you tell him as he hunts down your tac pants and helps you into those too. He chuckles as he finds your sports bra, slipping it over your head.

“Maybe you should pop out a kid or two,” and your jaw drops.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll drop my whole life and have babies! Ruin my career, my tits, everything I’ve worked for just to give evolution the middle finger!” You exclaim, annoyed he’d even suggest it. But he’s fully laughing, searching for your shirt under the bed.

“I’s a joke, love. You don’t take those as well as you take my cock,” he husks, finding the army green tank and slipping it over your head. “Besides, it would be a shame to ruin these perfect tits,” he tells you, standing behind you and cupping said perfect tits. Fuck, you didn’t think you could go again but the way his thumbs are brushing over your nipples right now is making you question that. “Well, we better get back to writin’ our reports. Price’ll wonder why we’ve been gone so long,” he says, slapping you on the ass and striding out the door. You’re left panting and annoyed, but you follow after a reasonable amount of time and when you make it back to your desk, Soap is standing next to it looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Aye, lass. Y’look good today. Exceptional even,” he drawls, and if you weren’t rolling your eyes you’d have noticed his own flick over to Ghost to gauge his reaction.

“Get off my desk, Johnny.”

“Will do, but would ya like t’have a drink with me tonight?” He’s leaned down, in your space, his bright eyes full of mischief.

“No.” You tell him, you’re not really annoyed with him but you are frustrated because Ghost left you horny and every bit as distracted as you were before he fucked you stupid. Your hand flashes out and connects with the inside of Soaps elbow, knocking him off his balance. Ghost chuckles from behind you at his own desk.

“Might wanna leave the girl alone, Johnny. I think she could kick your ass,”

“Ooh I might like that,” Johnny says, not fazed at all that you hit him. Ghost has to suppress a groan at the idea of watching you and Johnny wrestling for dominance. He’s pretty sure you would win and the idea of you fucking Johnny stupid the way he fucks you stupid has him hardening in his pants.

“Johnny,” you start, your voice all sugar sweet and sticky. “Can you do something for me?” Your tone is full of promise and Johnny’s eyes droop as he mutters a gentle ‘of course, lass’

“Go get me some Tylenol and coffee, Johnny,” you say, smacking him upside the head. Simon barks a laugh from behind you, and Johnny looks graciously indignant.

“Aye, lass. Whatever you want,” he’s no actually offended, but he played the part well. Off he slinks, to retrieve the items you’ve asked for and Ghost feels a rush of relief that he’s not the only person in this compound that cares for you.

[shadeysprings]

YOU

—Art Collector!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Summary — Your unexpected meeting with the famous art collector takes a dark turn when you learn the secret of his private collection.

Warnings — oral (female receiving), dismembered bodies, disrespect to the dead, entrapment, plots of killing, serial killer vibes, Steve being a calm psycho. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 5.4K

A/N — Story #1 for my FREAKtober Fest. The fic was heavily inspired by the movie itself and House of Wax. I'm happy to finally explore Steve's character in writing and I must say, I enjoyed every bit of it. The title was taken from the song You.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

Shout out to @vellicore and @sgt-seabass for bouncing ideas with me and being my beta.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

They didn’t come.

It was all you could think about as almost 2 hours had passed since your grad show started. Despite your parents’ — mostly your mom’s — disapproval of pursuing an arts program, you still invited them to the show. You hoped that if they saw what you were truly doing, they would understand your passion for paints and charcoal.

But it was a long shot, and you knew that. Though at least you tried…right?

You envy your classmates who carry bouquets while they present their artwork to their families and strangers alike. You were lucky enough to have a few come by your cubicle, delighted to explain the medium and process of your work. Some seemed genuinely intrigued while others, you can tell, only came by and endured your talk for the free stickers you offered at the end of your spiels.

Another hour passes by and you look up front when you hear an announcement being made by your instructor; a class photo. You’re reluctant to join, seeing no value in such a thing to be done as it’s obvious that once the day ends, they will be strangers once again. But another adamant call from your instructor has you heading to the front, a frown forming on your face when you’re pushed at the back, towered by your classmates—unseen once more. 

As parents and several others grab the opportunity to take a photo, your eyes suddenly divert back to your cubicle when you see someone looking over at your main art piece. You can’t put a pin on his face but you know you’ve seen him before. 

Once the group photo has ended, you immediately head back to your spot, catching the familiar stranger taking one of your stickers as well as a business card that sits beside it. It’s when you finally recognize him—and you’re in utter shock that he would be looking at your work. He finally notices you, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand. 

“Hi.” He begins, “I’m—”

“You’re Steve Kemp.” You finish for him, the confidence you suddenly displayed startling the both of you. But you push on when you see a smile of amusement on his face, taking his hand to shake. “You’re the famous art collector.” You wouldn’t have known it was him with how dressed down he looked with the corduroy jacket and navy jeans, but you’ve seen his face several times in art articles that you wouldn’t miss it.

“I wouldn’t say I’m famous.” He humbles himself but he lacks the conviction to make it believable. “I think I’m just skilled in finding pretty things—like this one.” He gestures towards your charcoal painting, the look of interest evident on his face. “What compelled you to incorporate a whale and an astronaut? What’s the story behind it?”

His question makes you smile. Maybe he is interested, you think to yourself and look towards your artwork before diving deep into your answer. 

“The artwork was inspired by the 52 Hertz Whale.” You begin. “Just to give you a little background; out of all the whale species, it’s the only one that makes a call with such a distinct pitch. Researchers had guessed that it could be a hybrid of two whale species but any attempts to search for the creature for further study have failed. Though some have been saying that it’s not a whale but an entirely different animal.

“Loneliness was the main theme of the piece—just like the whale, if it truly exists, it is alone in the vast sea; with no family to call its own and with it being different from the others, no one would listen or understand their cries. Akin to the lonely astronaut floating in the endless void of space. Though the flowers and the seagull represent hope and freedom—that one day, everything they thought to be true would change, that someone is there to listen and welcome them in their arms.”

You feel yourself shiver and your heart race as you end your interpretation. How the art piece truly mirrors your life and your cry for recognition from the people who truly matter. You try your best not to shed the tears that well in your eyes, presenting the collector with a smile and hoping he sees it as passion and confidence. 

But the look on his face startles you; there’s no judgment but you see a hint of amusement in his sapphire eyes. You think he’s about to say something, to comment on what you said, instead, he looks back at the artwork, seemingly appraising it. 

“How much?” The question stuns you. Did you hear correctly?

“I’m sorry?” 

“I want to buy your art piece.” He expounds. “How much are you selling it for?”

That’s the last thing you expected to be asked in a college grad show. Was he seriously wanting to purchase it? You try to answer, to tell him that you’re not really looking for buyers nor expecting to sell any of your work but no words come out of your mouth, still taken aback by his surprising inquiry.

“I don’t—” You stutter. “I’m not really—”

The chuckle he makes has you pulling on the cuffs of your oversized flannel, feeling slightly anxious at the thought that he’s making fun of your state of shock. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says with a smile, one that you mimic if only to ease the tension building within you. “But I am serious. I do want to buy it.”

Still, you don’t know what to say. Do you just give him an amount and call it a day?

“Why don’t you sit on it? Let’s say two days and I can give you a call for your price.” He holds up your business card between two fingers, the smile on his face turning into a playful smirk. “What do you say?”

Under-dressed.

Not that it was a concern you realistically should have but the patrons of the bar made you feel as such with the men clad in suit jackets and the women, either in dresses or whatever you call the style of attire that was classier than your hoodie-jeans-sneakers combo. At least you brought a coat—that’s fancy enough, right?

You nurse your Bellini cocktail and thumb through your phone while waiting for Steve, popping your conversation thread with him every second or two just to assure yourself that he confirmed, or rather, planned the night of drinks to discuss your “Lonely Whale��� piece as he coined it. It seemed odd at first but his determination was what compelled you to agree to meet him. 

The hiss of the straw fills your ears as you suck the last dregs of your drink. You shouldn’t have come early, you tell yourself, then you wouldn’t need to order another glass to accompany you on your wait. 

“Need a top-up?” A familiar voice from behind startles you and you look up to see Steve, decorated in a maroon wool sweater and that tantalizing smile he seems to always have. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad coming here to this part of town.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the booth. 

You scoot over to give him room, surprised that he didn’t take the one across from you. “Please, don’t be sorry. I wasn’t waiting long.” You assure him with a soft smile, tapping a finger on the rim of your glass. “The drink kept me company.”

“Are they any good?” He asks but he’s already called the attention of a server before you can even reply. He orders a Bloody Mary—quite peculiar, you think, but you’re not one to judge someone's preference. “And the lady will have another, please.” 

Silence envelops the both of you as you wait for the drinks to arrive, feeling shy and anxious when he rests his arm against the back of the booth and turns in his seat to face you. You’re not used to being seen yet here’s this man, well-known in the field you didn’t think to excel in giving you such unwarranted attention. 

“Uhmm, so I asked my instructor about the painting,” you begin as you try to break the ice, “and he said that—” but stop when he shakes his head and lets out a gentle laugh. 

You think he’s playing at your lack of knowledge of these types of transactions that it makes you second-guess your words. Maybe you should have come off more confident and prevented showing him an inkling of your cluelessness. But the smile he sends your way speaks of something different. There is no presence of ill-intent yet you still keep your guard up. 

“We can talk business later. I’d like to get to know the artist more first.” He says and for some reason, it could be how comfortable he seems to be around you, that you nod at his request, a soft smile forming on your lips. 

“Well, what do you want to know?”

Giggling. 

It’s been a while since you’ve done it but you guess after 4 glasses of the Bellini and a sip of his Bloody Mary, anyone would be in a lighter and more carefree mood. Just like how you are. 

The anxiety that filled you when you first walked into the bar seems non-existent with how well Steve carries a conversation. He listened to you complain and laughed at your sarcastic comments, throwing back another to keep the exchange alive. There was no dull moment to be recorded, only understanding when you shared the struggle of an art student living in a fast-paced environment. He’s probably the first person in your life who knows almost everything there is to know about you and even if he is a total stranger, he feels more familiar than any other. 

The night rolls by quicker than you’d hoped and the next thing you know you’re in his car, the alcohol messing with you as you begin belting out garbled lyrics to an Adele song. You’ve never felt so free and relaxed, and who would have thought you’d find it in someone who simply wants to buy your art project? 

You arrive shortly at your apartment building, a curious thought passing through your head as you don’t recall typing in your address in the GPS. But it goes just as quickly as it came when the passenger door is opened and Steve holds out a hand to help you out. 

He says your name, the syllables rolling like honey on his tongue and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way the moon shines against his face, but you truly notice how his sapphire eyes glow brighter with how close he stands to you, his cologne permeating your senses and his warmth mixing with yours, keeping away the cold autumn breeze of the night that surrounds the both of you. 

“I had a lovely evening.” He breathes, allowing him to take your hand in his. “And I don’t want it to end just yet.”

And it doesn’t. 

You invite Steve into your apartment for coffee, something to help completely sober him up and drive home safe. But as soon as you close the door and toe off your shoes, his hands are on your face and his lips capture yours, a soft grunt escaping you when he presses you against the door. You’re too stunned to process that he’s kissing you, only finally realizing it when he breaks the kiss and looks at you with his eyes so blue. 

You think he’s about to speak, to apologize for his forwardness, but instead he smiles while his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. You don’t understand what he sees in you to warrant such soft affection, or to even consider you as someone to kiss. 

He leans closer once more, this time you sense the apprehension in his movements and with the way his eyes linger on your face. You shut your brain off completely, not wanting reason and rationality to stop whatever force that was pulling you together. So you meet him halfway, hands resting against his chest when you press your lips against his, a moan escaping you as when you feel him pull you further into the kiss. 

To say he was a good kisser was an understatement with the way his wet muscle caressed your own and how his lips wrestle you into a passionate exchange. He chuckles when he bumps against a side table while walking backwards, blindly into the living room, hands pawing at each other, groping, touching, and you lift up his sweater as the desire to feel his skin blooms in your head. 

But he doesn’t give you that chance as you drop back onto your loveseat couch, Steve’s hands pushing up your hoodie to expose the tank top hidden within. His fingers tickle your skin, teasing, taunting, and in one swift move he pulls down the cups of your bra having your tits spill out from them. 

Mewls and moans are the only sounds that leave your lips, coherent words nonexistent with how his lips wrap around a mound, sucking, licking, and dampening the fabric to expose your stiff nipples which he gives his undivided attention to. You try to reach for him, to at least make sure that this is all real and not a dream, but his hands take yours, preventing you from even running your finger through his dark hair, the act only heightening your senses further. 

But his venture to your breasts eventually stops and you look down at him when he trails butterfly kisses against your stomach, hands releasing yours only to undo the button and fly of your jeans. The garment flies but your panties stay, and you swear you could almost combust just from the way he looks at you—his eyes swirling with hunger, eagerness, and desperation for a taste. 

Slowly, he trails kisses against your inner thighs, lips, and teeth meeting skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel. The nervousness swirls around you like twine, making your heart beat loudly against your chest as everything feels too new, too alien, despite this no longer being your first. But you’ve never encountered anyone as captivating as Steve and you feel as if he would run away once he sees you completely. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers into the air, his warm breath grazing against your heated core. 

It’s only then you comprehend what he’s done, your panties pushed to the side to expose you completely before him and all at once you feel your body burn when he laves his tongue against your pussy lips, gentle at first, testing the waters which shift to intent as he pushes them apart with his fingers, your sacred bud caressed by his expert tongue. 

You whisper his name as he begins delving into your pussy, strong hands keeping your thighs apart and pushing them down against the couch with his groans of pleasure filling your ears and fueling your desire for him. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair which you end up grabbing as a gasp is pulled from your lungs when he begins to suck your clit. 

The room feels like it's spinning with the ecstasy that climbs higher within your body, your senses no longer feeling like your own as Steve pushes on with his pursuit, his mouth dancing beautifully against your clit, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. But he stops, and a small wave of panic arises in your chest. Though it washes away like footprints on the sand when he ventures lower, his thumb taking purchase of your clit, rolling and adding pressure while his mouth ventures lower, teasing your slit at first before slowly pushing inside. 

Oh, how your body sings. Your back arches from the coach and you call out his name, louder this time, turning into a moaning mess as his regard to your cunt never wavers. You then feel the dam filling up at the pit of your stomach and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, encouraging—no—pushing him to pull you over the edge. 

“Steve—” It’s all you manage to say, your breath catching in your throat. 

His actions then become erratic, as if he can feel you teetering towards your peak, pulling you more to his mouth and devouring you whole. Sloppy, wet sounds of his mouth echo from below your waist, Steve letting out a low and guttural growl which only sets you ablaze. His thumb pushes more onto your clit, the pressure digging into your pelvis and finally having the dam at the pit of your abdomen burst.

Your body shakes and you grab onto Steve as your pussy walls flutter from your release, choking a sob as your sweet essence flows out of you. His awaiting mouth then laps each and every drop you offer, the sensation making you shiver yet at the same time cocoons you in euphoric bliss. 

The alcohol in your system then appears, mixing with the pleasure that continues to loom around you, and your eyes begin to droop, a smile forming on your lips. Your limbs ache deliciously, cunt buzzing from the orgasm that has taken over. You feel tired all of a sudden but happy at the same time and you forget all, even Steve, as you’re ready to end the night with such a good note. 

But a tap on your thigh pulls you from the serene moment, startling slightly to see Steve looking down at you with a grin painted on his face. “Stay awake, Baby.” He says, his hand running up your side and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. “I’m not yet done with you.”

Nervous.

It’s all you feel as you stand outside of Steve’s home—if you could even call it that. With the modern exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows of the one-story home, you’d think you’re about to enter a museum. But it’s only reasonable for him to have such a lavish abode; he is an art collector after all. 

“You okay?” You turn your head to the side to face him when he stands beside you, his warmth brushing against your skin as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.

“A bit—but more excited really.” You tell him, the giddiness of seeing his private collection dominating the restlessness you felt earlier. 

“Only the people who matter have seen it.” The smile he gives you is so contagious that you give one back and follow him inside his home.

After the night spent at your apartment, your life slowly revolved around Steve. Mornings begin and nights end with him and his attentiveness—one that you found more endearing than suffocating, as what some people you assume would say if they knew of your relationship. 

You don’t even know if you both have a relationship as neither of you discussed anything about labels, simply enjoying each other’s company. But you know that Steve has rooted himself deep in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try if anything comes that would sever you both, you’d have a hard time letting him go. Steve is the only one who has truly seen you and accepted you as you are.

A chill brushes your skin when you pass through the threshold of his home which has you pulling your knitted jacket more around your frame for warmth, and the first thing you see are the gallery lights mounted on the wall, with each one shining down on art pieces of different forms. The ones that stand by the door are wax figures of a woman’s pair of legs, one on each side. You look at it closely, the craftsmanship so intricate that you’d think it was real. The ones that come after it are different sets of arms and hands of women, again, each one posed differently and elegantly, as if welcoming you further down the hall.

It gives you pause with how unusual of a collection it is—women’s body parts—but you suppose that the world of art is filled with oddities. There was even one you heard who collects glass eyeballs, not caring if it was worn or not.

What greets you next are several paintings—if you can even call it as such—that litter the wall just the same, though you’ve never seen anything like it; one is of a canvas that houses different strands of hair that form into waves. You’re in awe with how they mimic the raging seas and how detailed and time consuming it must have been to complete. There’s even an image of a boat topped over it, as you inspect closely, you assume is made of leather. 

There’s another like it, though this seemed more like a showcase of all types of tresses, spaced out perfectly in rows of five. Each one portrayed a distinct person, with colors ranging from blonde to black and textures from curly to the straightest you’ve seen. The urge to touch it grows strong, wanting to check if they’re real or not.

“They’re real,” Steve answers your unspoken question, and you turn back to face him, feeling shy all of a sudden when you see him staring at you. “I call it live art.”

“You made this?”

“Oh, no.” He smiles as he nears the artwork, Steve’s hands tucked inside his pockets while he looks up at it. “I had it made. Though I did provide the materials—volunteers donated the hair.” His explanation has you thinking; you never knew people would donate something so personal for art. “I’m hoping to add more to the collection—a prized one that can be my center of attention.” He says and you catch him looking at you from your periphery. 

“What kind of prized piece?” You ask, curiosity nipping at the back of your head. 

“Something I could never get tired of looking at.” The smile he gives you sends a chill up your spine but your mind flows out into a daze when he steps forward and takes your face between his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “Like you.” He whispers and you can’t help but feel your face heat up with how beautiful he makes you feel. 

“Come on. There’s more in the living room and I wanted to show you where I would place your painting.” He says, giving you one last kiss before taking your hand and leading further inside. But you don’t miss the piece that sits just at the end of the hall; a torso of a woman, the composition almost similar to Alexndros’ Venus de Milo, except this one was missing its head. 

The living room is a sunken living room and it’s just as exquisite as the front of the house with paintings and figurines scattered in an organized fashion. Two couches sit on either side of a low table with a small cart that holds an array of spirits. You look around, mesmerized at the beauty he keeps within but stop when you notice a small greek style column sitting in the corner of the room. 

“What’s that?” You ask, pointing at the unusual fixture. 

“That’s just a chair a friend of mine made.” He responds while pouring the both of you some drinks. “It’s pretty cozy even if it’s made out of stone. Why don’t you try it out? Pretend you’re an art piece.” He urges and the giddiness you feel allows you to humor him. 

Soft jazz music then begins to play as you run your hand against the top, having a feel of the material before you take a seat, grabbing onto the sides to properly set yourself on top of it. The smile you catch on Steve’s face is wide as he approaches you and hands you your drink, his hand reaching up to caress your face. 

“You look perfect on it.” He sips on his drink and so do you. 

You can’t help but look at his eyes, how soft they look yet full of amidst the muted lighting that surrounds the both of you. You feel his hands continue to linger on your skin, resting gently on your shoulder with his thumb caressing the expanse of your neck. 

“Dance with me.” 

It’s all he says and you don’t have time to respond when he takes the glass from your grasp, setting both of them on the shelf that stands nearby and he reaches for you, his hands taking yours and placing them over his shoulders while his own finds purchase around your waist.

It feels like you’re walking on clouds with how he sways the both of you, his movements in sync with the music that fills the air. He holds you close, feeling his fingers drumming lightly on your back and how your feet follow him aimlessly, blindly with each step he makes. You’re suddenly aware of the intimacy that slowly winds the both of you, much different from the times he’s slept on your bed, and you feel shy, eyes casting down to stare at the edge of his navy turtleneck.

“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” He breathes softly, tilting your head back when he pinches your chin and feeling the warmth of his breath ghost against your lips. “I want to see you.”

Giddy.

It’s the only feeling you describe as soon as you wake up, your body sore but in a good way and the sheets atop the mattress warm, not just because of you but from the man that sleeps soundly at your side. You turn to face Steve and examine his face, his beautiful pointed nose and his dark hair askew from the pillow underneath his head. 

You couldn’t believe your luck that someone like him would find interest in someone like you. You must have done something good in your previous life to feel such happiness that the neglect and disapproval you once received from the people you expected to love you is being provided by someone you’ve barely known for a week. 

Good things come to an end, you hear the pessimist in you say but you push it down, deep down where you cannot hear its cry. You’re going to enjoy this, whatever this is, and if time comes that it should indeed come to a stop—well, you’ll cross the bridge when you get there. 

You move to cuddle closer to Steve, wanting to feel more of his warmth but it’s interrupted by your need for relief that you settle on placing a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the bed and find the restroom.

Washing your hands when you finish, you find a robe hanging at the back of the door and boldly take it, putting it around you to shield you from the cold that continues to circulate within the house and venture back to his room—back to Steve’s arms. Except the lone light that shines in the darkness catches your eyes and you glance towards the bedroom. You don’t want to be caught snooping but the call of the void is too strong for you to ignore. 

Silently, you pad down the hall and find yourself face to face with a staircase that leads to a closed door. Must be the basement, you think to yourself, taking one step at a time, you descend to your destination. You hesitate to hold the knob, not wanting to spoil your welcome but you soldier on, pushing through the barrier. 

A row of yellow muted light illuminates the entryway, and you see nothing but several black barrels neatly pushed against the wall and a few scrubs hanging from mounted hooks. You thought you would see more artwork but are left disappointed, deciding to turn back but the white light at the end of the room stops you, curiosity once more taking over your senses.

Fear then grips you tight when you step into the light, hands flying to your mouth and a gasp unwillingly escaping you when you see a woman laid down on a metal table with her lower half missing and her head free of her scalp. What hangs on the wall makes your stomach turn even further, body parts—arms, legs and a severed head coated in something you can only assume to be wax.

You run. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you make it back again to the door and close it as quietly as you can, not wanting to awaken your host—a monster you never thought him to be. Carefully, though quickly, you climb the steps and the only thing you could think of is to leave and run as far as you can where he cannot find you. 

Relief slowly washes over you when you get to the last step. Now all you have to do is go—call the authorities and—your thoughts take a dive when you feel someone grab you by the waist, trapping your arms along with it and a hand covering over your mouth as well as your nose.

“Where were you, Baby?” Steve’s calm voice forms from behind and your panic only rises further. You struggle against his hold, flailing as much as you can for him to let you go but he’s too strong and you feel the tears spill from your eyes as you think that this is the end. He’s caught you. You’re going to die. 

“You never should have seen that.” He simply says and you grunt when a stabbing pain forms on your neck, a cool sensation flowing through your veins. 

It’s then that he lets you go, your hand flying to where you felt the sting before turning to look at him. What did he do to you? You notice the syringe in his hand. Is it poison? Your vision almost instantly goes blurry, your limbs heavy and you drop to the floor, eyes cast to the ceiling as you try to make out your current state. The last thing you see is Steve, a sinister smile on his face and incoherent words coming from his lips before everything goes dark. 

You’re dead.

It’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you come to. Everything slowly comes into clarity; the room you’re in is somewhere you’ve not been and the cool metal you feel around your ankle only solidifies the fact that he’s successfully trapped you in the hell he dwells in.

A door opens and closes and you curl up small on the bed you lay in to hide yourself from him. You’re crying once again a multitude of emotions surge from within—is it fear? Hopelessness? Anger? Towards him for lying to you or to yourself for believing him. 

“I never wanted you to find out this way.” He sighs. “I never wanted you to find out at all.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You can’t help but ask, even though you know what the answer is.

“Not yet.” His calm in his voice brings a chill to your spine. “Despite what you believe, I meant what I said; you matter to—”

“Stop lying to me!” You shout and sit up from the bed, grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it at him. “Why are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this?! Why me?!” You shout, the anger that was settling in your bones turns into a raging fire. You go to lunge for him, wanting to rip his skin with your bare hands but the cuff on your foot stops you, making you fall to the ground in front of him. 

He tuts and you see his leather shoes in front of you. A groan then leaves your tongue when he grabs you by your face, your hand taking hold of his wrist as you try to pull away from him. But he only pinches tighter, making you shout in pain that fades all too quickly when he shakes you and makes you face him dead in the eyes.

“The more you fight, the harder it’ll be.” He snips. “I enjoy you a lot—don’t make me kill you so soon.”

“Just fucking do it!” You spit. “Do it! Kill me now!”

The laugh he gives you is menacing. He shakes his head, his other hand moving to run his finger on the side of your face. You see the darkness swirling around the sapphires of his eyes and you question yourself why, for the many times he’s stared at you, you’ve never seen it before. 

“Soon.” He promises. “For now, I’ll keep you. I don’t mind that column being empty just a little longer.”

[licorice-tea]

The Bane of My Existence

Pairing:Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: some spoilers for Sabaody arc (nothing major), enemies to lovers! strawhat reader, reader and law are both stubborn and argumentative smh, reader is more optimistic though, law is awkward and not great at understanding his own feelings <3

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: part 1/2 for a little enemies to lovers fic! one of my favorite tropes but I almost never write about it... also I've been rewatching bridgerton and was very inspired by the relationship between Kate and Anthony, which is where the title comes from too! (can you guess what part 2 will be called?) anyway, enjoy and lmk your thoughts! :)

Part 2

Sabaody Archipelago is easily one of the coolest places you’ve visited so far. Not that Alabasta, Skypiea, Water 7, Thriller Bark weren’t cool too… but you’re a people person! And to get to see such a diverse mix of groups from all over the world converging here, on one island Archipelago, brings a genuine smile to your face. It truly does remind you of a theme park: from the attractions to the oversized trees and bubbles.

In fact, you’re so caught up in all the splendors of the carnival-esque grove that you don’t realize you’re being watched. Or, followed, rather.

The Heart Pirates, yet another crew from some vague corner of the world, have been tracking you for the better part of an hour now. Except, they’re only following their captain, who happens to be following you.

Hes not entirely discreet about it though, because at one point Bepo asks, “Um… Captain, why are we following them?”

Shachi responds unprompted, “Yeah, I’ve never seen their bounty poster so… what’s up?”

Law scowls, “I’m not following anyone.”

Though he is low-key following you, Law couldn’t give a good reason as to why. You walked past him and his crew on your way to meet up with the rest of your crew- the Strawhat Pirates- and he’d just sort of trailed after you once you’d gotten a safe distance ahead.

“Really? Because every time they stop for directions, we slow down. And we’ve turned at all the same spots, too… So it really does seem like we’re follo-“

“I am NOT following them.” He lies through (literally) gritted teeth.

Now, Trafalgar Law is in now way shape or form a believer in love at first sight. He’s never been in love period… but the feeling he gets from seeing you is something new and foreign. Like, he really wants to talk to you… he just doesn’t know what for. Law is still trying his best to come up with reasons to stop you and ask for your name when you overhear the brief argument between him and his friends.

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you spot a group of at least 10 on your trail. They’re in the middle of conversation, so they don’t notice you taking notice of them.

Your first instinct is to look around for your crew; but of course, they’re scattered across the groves of Sabaody Archipelago by now - as are you. “Sigh. I might just have to handle this in my own.” But, wait- who said they wanted to fight you? Maybe you should just approach them first, wouldn’t that give you the upper hand in some way? (It wouldn’t, but you can’t think of anything better than to try and charm your way out of a possible jumping with your friendliness and perfect smile.) So, you roll back your shoulders and take a breath before strolling back over the grass to your pursuers.

“Why would I be following some rand-“

“Because you have a crush on them!”

“Oh they’re cute, Captain, you should ask them to join!”

“Gasp! Yeah, then you can get to know-“

They all go silent (save for some quiet gasps) as you step toward the semi circle they’ve formed around one man- the only one not wearing a white uniform, who they call “Captain.” You tap him on the shoulder and he whips his head around.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?”

The man just stares at you for a moment with a frown. You fear that you might’ve been wrong about his intentions, until he blinks and mumbles, “Uh… Sure.”

Your smile returns- of course you weren’t wrong! Plus, he’s kind of hot, but you’d catalog that thought and come back to it on some lonely night in the future. “Great! I’m looking for grove 41, it’s where some of my friends are.”

You’d learned back in Water 7 that sometimes, it was best not to disclose who exactly you’re traveling with, nor the location of your ship. (At least, not when you’re infamous pirates.)

“Grove 41? I’m headed there too.”

The polar bear wearing who is also wearing a white uniform clears his throat.

“I thought we were heading to Grove 1, Captain?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to get in y’all’s way then-“

“Nah, I think Captain would love to show you the way.”

“Shachi!” The captain sneers. “We’ll meet back up at Grove 1 after I show them the way." Then, he looks you up and down. It's quick and analytical rather than flirtatious or intimidating. "Don’t cause me any trouble.”

You smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m y/n, by the way.”

“Trafalgar Law, and this is my crew, the Heart Pirates.” He gestures around the semi circle, then turns to face them, “You guys go take a break or something. I’ll be back shortly.”

“But Captain, we want to go with you!”

One of the men with red hair- Shachi, you’re pretty sure, elbows the polar bear.

“Hey!…” He looks down at Shachi then gasps like he suddenly had a revelation; “Ohhh. Sorry Captain, we’ll see you later!”

Law rolls his eyes. “See you soon.”

There's something about his dark hair and grey eyes that charms you, right off the bat. Or maybe it's his relaxed, confident demeanor. Possibly even his idiosyncratic style of clothing, and how he (and all of his crew) wore the same logo; so very organized and professional. But no matter the exact reason as to why, you find yourself quite happy to be in his company.

Alas, he’s not a very talkative man, so you make up most of the conversation with questions and your own introductory information. “-and that’s how I got here, to Sabaody!”

“Uh huh. And who did you say your crew was again?”

“I, ahem, I don’t travel with a crew.”

“Right.” He laughs dryly.

“What is it?”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I- I’m not lying!”

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what crew you’re a part of,” Law explains, “but don’t lie and say you’re not a pirate at all.”

“Well… it’s generally not a good idea to tell strangers that you’re a pirate. Not even nice ones, like you."

Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach that unexpectedly appear when you call him nice, Law's burning curiosity is fed by your roundabout half-answer. “Ah, so you are one? What’s your bounty?”

“That’s not really any of your business.” Though you believe his intentions to be purely based in curiosity, you're second guessing allowing this man to lead you away on an island grove that you have never visited, nor know anything about. Still, your crew is nowhere in sight or hearing range, which worries you given just how loud they usually are.

“I’m paying you a favor by leaving my crew to escort you to where I’m assuming your ship is located- it’s the least you could do.” Law’s tone is more prickly than before.

“Well, I don’t need an escort, and you’ve already walked me halfway there and pointed me in the right direction.”

“Fine- then I’ll leave.”

His sudden change in mood from what you interpreted as shy to borderline aggressive throws you off. And so, having a similar moody temperament and stubbornness (though you’d never admit it after seeing it so clearly in him), you return the sentiment. “Fine by me.”

You continue walking forward while Law turns back, until he calls over his shoulder. “And by the way; you’ll need to find your way through the lawless zone up ahead if you want to get to Grove 41.” If condescending was a person, it would be him. You’re sure of it. “That, or I could’ve shown you a much safer shortcut.”

You pause, turn to face him, roll your eyes, and continue walking.

“What, you’re still not going to ask for my help?”

“Don’t need it!” Which, you really don’t. You’re plenty strong, but your bounty is small enough to not be worried. “I’m not scared of a law-less zone, if anything I think I’d welcome it.”

Your mocking words hurt his ego in a way he hasn't felt in years, taking him down several pegs.

You don't even stick around long enough to listen to him rebuke everything about you, from your high and mighty tone to your vain attempts at lying, ending his one sided argument with a very classy middle finger your way. So, Law grumbles all the way back to Grove 1 to find his crew, and hopes to never see you again. Meanwhile, you find your way to the other Strawhats. Your adventure with them continues, and you don’t have much time to think of your earlier encounter with a handsome pirate and possible-friend turned enemy (if you could even call him that.)

Law doesn't know if his ego (or wildly beating heart) could take another second in your presence- it just might burst if it had to endure any more of your witty comments or sly looks. It would, however, be an interesting theory to test further, should you ever meet again.

The prospect is both horrifying and thrilling to him at the same time.

[knoxmares]

how filling - che'nya x dom(ish) top amab reader

MINORS DNI

tags: che'nya exhibiting some yandere behavior, stuffing, emeto, mentions of sickness, implied fwb relationship, slightly under-negotiated kink a/n: unofficial sequel to this fic. you don't have to read it to enjoy this one, but there's some details that are carried over

You’re smirking before Che’nya even opens the door, his genuine look of shock being just what you predicted.

“Surprise…”

“Wha-“ his wide yellow eyes blink slowly as if he thought you were a hallucination. You suppose this is your first time visiting him at the Royal Sword Academy, and it gives you satisfaction knowing you’ve caught him off guard for once.

“Gonna invite me in, kitty? You know I’m really not supposed to be here, so there’s no telling what goody two shoes might report me.” You glance down the dorm hallway, which is thankfully still vacant. Unfortunately, you don’t have Che’nya’s disappearing ability, which allows him to be effortlessly sneaky.

“You never need an invitation” he eyes you curiously as he steps back to let you in, wrapping himself tighter in the blanket that’s draped over his shoulders. You swiftly step inside allowing yourself to scan the dimly lit room, which you’ve only seen in pictures and video calls. Considering you are childhood friends, one would think you would have visited him at some point during the three years you’ve been enrolled at separate schools, but he dropped in on you so frequently there was never a need to.

“How are you feeling?” You set down the bag you brought on his desk. You had brought him some food since he had told you he was slowly getting his appetite back.

“A bit better I suppose” he pouts slightly shuffling back over to his bed. “I’m going to start going back to classes tomorrow.”

“Oh really?” You join him on his bed, and you notice his soft look of surprise when you leave no distance between you two. “I hope you’re not pushing yourself to go back too soon. Someone has been bringing you your work, no?” You can’t help but reach out a hand to try to assess his condition yourself. You press the back of your hand to his forehead, and it feels normal, but you press it to his cheek for good measure. He purrs at your actions, holding your hand against his cheek as he nuzzles into it further.

“You’re not worried about getting sick?” Che’nya looks more like himself than ever glancing up at you seductively with a smirk on his face. “Or maybe you just missed me too much.”

“Says the one who’s texted me nonstop telling me how miserable he is and complained that he had no one to take care of him.”

“No one as fun as you at least” he teasingly kisses the back of your hand that he’s still holding against his face.

“You really must be feeling better” you surmise. If he hadn’t sent you pictures of him looking peakish or voice messages of his terribly hoarse voice, you might believe he exaggerated his sickness to get you to come over. Though you were still suspicious of his intentions when he sent you a picture of him in his bed yesterday, dressed in lingerie and claiming to be “sooo bored.” You couldn’t deny part of you hoped that same lingerie was hidden under his blanket now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come over when you were sicker”

“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to come at all, but I’m glad you did” he gives you a toothy grin. “And you brought me something” his eyes glance over to the bag you brought, ears twitching with anticipation.

“Don’t get too excited. I just thought you might like a home cooked meal now that you’re eating more. You are keeping your food down now, right?”

“You made me food?” The second part of your sentence gets ignored as the thought of you preparing something for him evidently fills his head. His starry-eyed gaze keeps shifting from you to the bag, so you figure you might as well offer it to him now, which he readily accepts.

“It’s not anything special. You know I’m not much of a cook, so I just made you your favorite stew and also a strawberry tart, but you don’t have to eat it today of course” Your humble words do nothing to dull his excitement, his eager eyes never leaving you as you take out the stew and use your magic to heat it for him.

“Here you go” You try to hand him the bowl, but he gives you a sly look exposing his bare chest as he pulls his arms out of his blanket.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t seem to have any spare hands at the moment” he shrugs his shoulders as he displays his arms that seemingly have no hands attached.

“How curious…” you steal his common phrase giving him a knowing look. “I guess I’ll have to feed it to you then.”

“I guess so…” Che’nya looks at you innocently, but you can imagine the playful flick of his tail being concealed by his blanket.

He happily accepts spoonfuls of stew, letting out occasional hums of pleasure between bites. Before you know it, he’s cleaned out the bowl and is asking for the strawberry tart. You attempt to get him to hold off to ensure the stew settles well in his stomach, but he insists he’s fine, so you get out the tart.

“And you made this?” The hunger in his eyes appears deeper than a desire for food.

“Yeah. Trey had a busy week, so I didn’t want to bother him with it. I followed his recipe though, so I think it turned out well”

“I’m sure it’s delicious” he assures you. “Especially since you were thinking of me while baking it” he doesn’t even try to veil his delight over the thought. He opens his mouth expectantly and you feed him a bite, choosing not to comment on the reappearance of his hands.

“Mmmm,” he licks his lips as if to savor every crumb. You offer him bite after bite which he chomps on happily.

“Okay maybe we should stop here, and that way you’ll have some more for later.”

“No” he whines. “It’s so good. I don’t want to stop.” He looks at you through his lashes pleading with you. “Please, feed me more.” Against your better judgment, you give in to him.

“Ok… but if you push yourself too far, that’s on you” you warn giving him another bite. He lets out an approving nod, humming happily. You can’t deny it does stir something in you seeing him eat your food so earnestly. You believe your own eyes must be filled with hunger when the blanket slips off his body, revealing him to only be wearing boxers. The band sits below his stomach which has a noticeable bulge.

He rubs it lazily as he takes longer breaks between bites. You assume he’s getting full based on his deeper breathing, but he has yet to refuse a bite, his soft smile never leaving his face. While he seems as content as ever you find yourself shifting in your spot, trying to ignore the feeling of your cock straining against your pants.

You came here as a friend you try to remind yourself, but the praise that falls from Che’nya’s lips doesn’t help your situation.

“Mmmm, I missed being able to eat properly, but now you’ve ruined other food for me. How am I supposed to enjoy anything when I know I could have your cooking instead? It feels so good being full of your food, so you have to cook for me more, okay?” He rubs his belly with both hands as if admiring the bulge himself.

“My belly would definitely get bigger if I got to eat your cooking all the time” he giggles to himself. “Wouldn’t you like to see that” He looks at you suggestively, and you can hardly hold yourself back any longer, moving your body so that you’re straddling his lap. He looks at you with amused curiosity, gently bucking up against you when you rub your hands across his stomach just like he was doing moments prior.

“I would actually” you smirk “But for now, how about you eat these last two bites for me”

“If that’s what you want” he whines a bit when you move your hands, but he looks at you with heavy lust as he wraps his lips around the fork you offer him. He pants slightly as he licks his lips, and you can’t help but offer him the last bite straight from your hands.

He doesn’t immediately take your fingers in his mouth, which is how you know he is reaching his limit. He takes a moment, seemingly steeling himself for the last bite, but eventually opens his mouth allowing you to place the last piece of tart inside. He closes his lips around your fingers, making sure to lick the tip of your fingers before he chews the bite in his mouth.

“Look at you, kitty. You actually ate it all” You go back to rubbing his stomach, letting your fingers drift a little higher to tease his nipples.

“Ah,” he lightly gasps. “I know I could fit more” he slightly lifts his hips so he can slowly grind against you.

“I should have known you’d be insatiable, even when you’re still recovering.” You lean back, letting your fingers lightly trace the stain of precum that marks his boxers. He’s all too eager to help you take off his only piece of clothing. He hisses in pleasure when you finally take him in your hand, but he’s quick to insist you rid yourself of your clothes too.

Just as eager to feel his touch, you don’t argue, swiftly getting off him so you can fulfill his request. You lay beside him now, his hands immediately going to stroke you. Your intermingled moans fill the space between you as you get each other off. You take your other hand and rub it against his tip, causing his hips to jerk. His head falls against your shoulder as he lets out a strangled moan, and you continue your movements.

“Please… I’m ready for you…” he manages to pant out. “…wanna be full.”

“I don’t know if you should take me.” You can’t help but still be concerned about his limits.

“But I wan-“ He interrupts his own sentence with a cough, barely managing to cover his mouth. He pauses for a moment, but another harsh cough racks his body, most likely remnants of the sickness he had. He slowly sits up, facing away from you as he sits at the edge of the bed. Even though he stopped coughing, he still sits frozen, hand covering his mouth.

“Che’nya?” you have a feeling you know what’s wrong and those thoughts are soon confirmed when he starts his next coughing fit. Instead of covering his mouth, he instantly reaches for the wastebin by his bed that’s half filled with tissues. He clutches it tightly his cough suddenly turning into retching.

At the sound of him emptying his stomach into the wastebin, you quickly move so that you’re by his side. You soothingly rub his back as he continues to vomit, waiting patiently for him to get it all out.

“Fuck” he rasps out, a trail of saliva still hanging from his bottom lip and tears dotting the corner of his eyes. He wipes his mouth then takes a deep breath as he looks up, closing his eyes. Your hand that’s on his back drifts up to the nape of his neck where you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger.

“This is where you say I told you so” he looks at you from the corner of his eye, managing a small smirk. He doesn’t even wait for you to answer, softly chuckling to himself. “But I would do it again”

“My food was that good, huh?” There’s doubt laced in your words.

“Hmmmhmmm” he hums, his eyes are closed again, and you wonder if he’s feeling another wave of nausea, but he puts the wastebin back on the floor instead. “What can I say? I’ll always want all of you”

“I know” are the words you choose to say after a beat of silence. Instead of further acknowledging his feelings you bring a hand to his stomach, rubbing small and gentle circles across his abdomen.

He lets out a sound that is both a sigh and a moan. You haven’t even touched his nipples and yet he seems to be turned on, his dick twitching. “I think I want you to fill me up even more now” he admits.

“If that’s what you want” you graze your finger over his nipple while planting a kiss on his shoulder. His breathing becomes ragged as you tease his skin between your teeth. You play with his chest for a bit longer before asking him where he keeps his lube.

Che'nya lays on his side, massaging his stomach as he waits for you. Despite his flushed face, his tail still moves with eager anticipation as you settle in your place behind him. He's quieter than usual, only making a soft pleased sound as you push your fingers into him.

“More” he begs, and you oblige, finally lining your cock up with his entrance.

“Let me know if you need me to stop” you remind him before pushing your tip in. You slowly bottom out waiting until he gasps for you to move to continue with your thrusts.

“Fuck…you feel so hot and tight around me, kitty” You snap your hips into him a bit harder. “It feels so good”

“Ah- “ Che’nya grips his bedsheets tighter, and you hear a gurgling sound come from his stomach.

“Don’t stop” he whimpers feeling you hesitate. You place your hand on his stomach and feeling it rumble beneath your touch, you fuck into him with new fervor.

“Aghh” he gasps and leans over off the bed just in time for a thin stream of vomit to make it mostly into the wastebin. With Che’nya’s walls squeezing tightly around you, you reach your climax with a couple more thrusts. He holds your hand that rests on his stomach and whines as he feels you fill him up.

Keeping yourself buried in him, you move your other hand to his cock to help him finish, which only takes a few strokes. You take in his dazed expression and faint smile, feeling an urge to kiss his sweat slicked skin. He whimpers at the feeling of your lips on his neck, his classic Cheshire grin appearing as you trail slow kisses up his jawline.

“Yup,” he sighs blissfully. “I would definitely do it again”

[chaithetics]

i absolutely adore your stewy fic and have re-read it 50 times already 😭😭 would love a small sequel based on the 9th episode of him supporting the reader during the funeral and butting in to defend her/hold when she breaks down without caring about what other think, im not kidding when i say i’ve read it 50 times i can’t believe i’ve found a fic this good that’s touched the part of my brain obsessed with stewy and starches it to well i adore you

Don't Let Me Go

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Author's note: THANK YOU SO MUCH NONNIE! I ADORE AND LOVE YOU! Every time I think about this request or read it, I'm kicking my feet and twirling my hair. This is so sweet and just the highest praise ever! WOW. I appreciate you, it was so sweet and I really hope you enjoy this! Please let me know what you think and feel free to message me! I love grief-related shows/movies (I love to be in my feels) so this was quite the interesting one. I apologise for any sadness this fic causes. I have more requests that aren't sad dw! Always open to Stewy requests as well. This can be read as a stand-alone/sequel to Furtive Hands. This also HAS NOT BEEN PROOFREAD lol. I hope you enjoy :)

Chapter/content warning: established/secret relationship, GRIEF, GRIEF, funeral, some fluff but just funeral grief and supportive Stewy.

The last week had been miserable, there was no other way to describe it or to do it justice. It should be raining, that would make sense for the funeral of such a commanding and depressing man, there also should’ve been thunder and lightning. Now that would’ve done justice for the thunderous man that your father was but maybe there was no thunder in the sky because it all left with him. 

You’re sitting in the backseat of the car with Shiv right in front of you as you wait for your brothers, both of the Roy daughters are dressed head to toe in black and a fine picture of grief. You’d gladly taken the backseat, it was worth the small risk of motion sickness, it meant it would be easier to distance yourself from any potential, yet inevitable drama. 

Shiv had a glassy expression that was hard to read, you picked up that there was something there that wasn’t just grief. You sat up a bit and leaned over closer, so your arms were resting on the back of her seat. 

“Are you okay?” You asked softly. 

Shiv’s head quickly turned to look at you, grief was there, some unshed tears in her eyes and she looked like a deer in headlights. Her lip trembled for a second and then she sighed and her blue eyes pierced yours. 

“Full disclosure…?” 

“Go.” You immediately replied and Shiv’s body moved more into your direction. 

“I really uh, fucked things up… Ken found out and Mencken, well he’s a form of stabbing a knife in return.” She breathed out and her eyes quickly left yours as she looked down at her body. “And I’m fucking pregnant, I-I told Tom and well he thought it was a fucking tactic.” She humourlessly chuckles as her eyes move to focus on the ceiling of the car. 

“Holy shit, Shiv.” You moved closer off your seat to rest your head on the top of the back of the seat dividing you two and put your hands out to hold hers, squeezing them softly and doing your best to genuinely smile for her. “I’m sorry, that’s a fucking lot. But congratulations! Congratulations? Should I be saying congratulations? If not we can go and sort it out, I’ll go with you if you want. Anything you need.” 

Shiv nodded as she kept her hand in yours and used her free hand to rub at her face a little. “I thought about it but I’m going to keep it. It’s fine. Thank you though. I’m planning to tell mom and that today so yeah.” 

“Thanks for telling me.” You responded giving her hand another squeeze and she nodded. After a few seconds, she let go of your hand and turned back around in her seat and not long after that your brothers joined you both. 

*******************

It had been an awkward car ride, you’d sunk into your seat, looking out the window as Roman and Shiv argued. You didn’t say a word, Kendall had eventually intervened and called for a truce which was agreed upon. Kendall had discussed Rava leaving the city with the kids which you thought was justified and you struggled to not call Kendall out, having to bite your tongue and fully focus your gaze on the windows. Right now was not the right time for sibling arguments. You’re sure that Kendall saw your pointed expression before looking out the window again. 

This had been tougher than you’d imagined. Roman had immediately broken during the speech, everything that hadn’t come out of him did then. Kendall had taken over, with a speech that had been well received but genuinely made you uncomfortable. Ever since you’d all sat down you’d been close to Roman, one hand gently on his back and the other hand holding his, he had a tight grip on it but he was doing slightly better now. Well, he was visibly. 

Each sentence that comes out of your sibling’s mouths feels like a blow and the casket is haunting you. Not as much as Roman though you suppose, if he wasn’t firmly planted onto the pew and with a pale, iron grip on your hands you thought you’d maybe float away. Or maybe you’d just sink down with the pressure of all the eyes, tears and smirks. 

As Shiv speaks, you know she’s right, her words about being his daughter have never been easy and it’s starting to get hot. Too hot. Sure there are hundreds of people in the church but it’s too hot even with that, you’re starting to overheat and your thoughts are overcrowding your brain. 

You look at Roman, your hand on his back and your other one holding his hand. You bite your lip, trying to force tears not to come. Unsuccessfully though. 

“I’m sorry, yeah, um I’m sorry Rome.” You let go of his hand and quickly move to squeeze past Connor and Willa in the pew. 

All of their eyes follow you in concern, you start to fidget with the corner of your sleeve while trying to regulate your breathing as you walk off to the side of the Church. You don’t know where to go, it doesn’t feel like anywhere is an option but it feels like you just need to leave. Anywhere but here, home or any place that’s ever had that title. Your mind is racing with that train of thought and another million ones, none are easier than the last though. It’s becoming overwhelming,  impossible. Your heart is beating so fast you can hear it and you can feel it beating so quickly it’s trying to carve itself out of your chest. It’s all so claustrophobic.  

An arm grabs you and you turn around to see that it’s Connor. 

“Hey, hey. Are you okay?” 

“It’s just a lot, I don’t think I can be- I don’t really want to be in here right now.” You quietly say, trying not to choke on the inevitable sobs. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” 

Connor’s gaze is focused on you and it’s gentle. Which somehow feels more intense, it amplifies the feeling of being under a microscope. You tug at your sleeve again as you feel the tears starting to get worse, you try to bite your lip as tightly as possible to stop the incoming sobs from arriving, to distract from the emotional pain with something physical. 

It doesn’t work though. 

You start to step away from Connor as your crying can now be heard, Roman stays frozen in the pew still trying to find some of his abandoned composure. Kendall’s noticed that this isn’t a toilet break and that Connor’s intervention isn’t cutting it and starts to make his way over. 

Kendall quickly realises that he’s not the only one who’s noticed and who is making their way over. Kendall’s compassion for you is still somewhat intact but today, controlling the narrative and putting out fires is his priority. 

“Stew, go. People are going to talk.” Kendall sternly whispers with a disappointed look, doing his best to communicate his point without drawing anymore attention to the scene. 

“Let them talk, I don’t fucking care Ken.” Stewy spits out with widened eyes. 

“You don’t want this story to break today, trust me.” 

“If it broke today it would drown in the rest of the funeral, Roman and the fucking GoJo numbers. You know that. Everybody does, it’s why Shiv and Matsson leaked it today.” 

“Follow the money back to your fucking seat.” 

“The money isn’t my priority here. She’s my partner.” Stewy says, Kendall scoffs and they both quietly walk over towards you and Connor. But you’ve been too overwhelmed to have noticed any of that interaction or them joining you and Connor in your weird corner towards the back of the church. 

“I need to- it’s so hot in here. It’s really fucking crowded, I know that you want a good turn out at a funeral but this is- it’s so unnecessary you know?” You cry out rambling and Connor’s concern shows more. You hadn’t publicly broken over your father’s death yet and Connor hadn’t seen you cry since you were a child. 

“Yeah, sure. Sure. A lot of people”

“It’s just so hot in here. I need cold air. Maybe some wine? Do you think there’s uh w-wine around? It’s a church, there’s bound to be wine, it’s Catholic- Holy Communion and all… Fuck.” 

“I don’t think there’s wine here you can drink.” Connor’s voice breaks a little.  

“I can’t do this, I don’t want to be in here. Connor please? Just I don’t know- I don’t fucking know.” You sob out and the tears and sobs just don’t stop. Connor puts his arms around you and does his best to keep some composure for your sake. 

Kendall and Stewy have now come over, Connor’s arms are still around you but you feel a hand on your back. One that rubs a little circle and you recognise that little pattern, the pressure, the touch itself. 

“Stewy?” You whisper out between a little sob.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice is soft and gentle as he continues to rub your back like he has a dozen times over the last several days. 

“I just- uh. I just, it’s so hot and claustrophobic. I needed air.” You’ve now left Connor’s arms to press yourself into Stewy’s side, his arms quickly replacing Connor’s as they wrap around you. You’re too overwhelmed to even consider or worry that your tears and makeup might be rubbing on his blazer. 

“I know.” 

Kendall is standing in an attempt to shield the rest of the world from this interaction, Connor’s hand is on your shoulder now. Stewy looks at Connor, tilting his head slightly towards you. Stewy smiles at Connor and nods, silently communicating that it’s okay and Connor can go back, which he does after squeezing your shoulder softly. 

“Can we- can- I need to go outside. I need air.” You muffle into Stewy’s side. Kendall pointedly looks at Stewy. 

“I know baby, I know. But there’s a lot of people outside still and cameras still.” Stewy says, as he rubs at your back comfortingly. Stewy isn’t worried about people seeing you both out there but about people seeing you in this state and it being immortalised in the media. 

“Fuck.” You mutter and the sobs become louder, more painful and desperate. 

You knew today would be hard, nothing was easy with your father. But you didn’t expect today to be so awful and to feel so trapped, he was gone, you shouldn’t feel like this but you just felt vulnerable, like the defenseless kid you were trapped in your childhood. Under a microscope for hundreds to zoom in on your pain, today wasn’t suffering just for your father’s amusement. 

“Yeah. We can get some air at the cemetery and take the long way back to the reception? Stop off somewhere if you want?” He asks softly. 

“We all came together-” Kendall starts. 

“I know-” Stewy quietly interjects. 

“I think I’ll go with Stewy, Ken.” You say quietly, you peek out a little from Stewy, puffy faced and wet with tears. Kendall doesn’t look super impressed at that, you can tell but he just gives a small nod.

There’s something about Stewy, his mere presence is a salve on your soul. Being buried into his side, being able to try focusing on the scent of his cologne instead of everyone and everything else is helping you remember how to breathe again. Your lungs remember how it all works again with Stewy at your side. 

“Do you want to sit down again before it ends?” Stewy gently inquires now that he’s noticed that your breathing is a bit more normal and the sobbing is more contained.  

“Sit with me?” Stewy nods. Kendall scoffs quietly but audibly and takes one of your hands and walks back to the front row pew of Roys, Stewy’s hand is gently on your back as he follows. You sit at the furthest end from Kendall, sandwiched between Willa and Stewy. Willa offers you a small but gentle smile and you press into Stewy’s side as he holds your hand in his. 

“Snot siblings.” Roman says as he finally looks at you, leaning across to give you a tissue. “Courtesy of the old Gerr-bear.” He adds as he refuses to look at the woman behind him. 

“Oh, thank you.” You whisper quietly and he nods looking away, just across from him. 

You’re aware that there’s more attention on you now over your little breakdown and at the development of Stewy coming over and then being at the front Roy children pew, Willa’s there of course but not even Tom or Rava are. You can tell Stewy’s aware of this as well as you look at his handsome side profile, he notices you staring and smiles at you, his arm around you squeezes you softly and he brings the hand of yours that he’s been holding in his lap up for a soft, sweet kiss. 

“Just breathe.” He whispers quietly as your hand in his goes back into his lap. You take a deep breathe, even consumed in your grief and the horror of this day you are so grateful for him. 

Despite the context, there is something freeing and peaceful about that. Being able to hold your hand in front of hundreds of people, kiss it and sit next to you. Stewy feels it deeply in his soul and while you perhaps can’t appreciate that right now, you can feel it too. 

****************

You didn’t stay to receive condolences like Kendall did. You immediately left with Stewy, ignoring the pointed and curious looks from everyone as he had an arm around you as you both quickly walked, he held the door open for you and you both sat in the backseat. 

As soon as you both were in and that door closed, you couldn’t help it. You just started crying. It was so overwhelming. 

“Hey, hey baby.” Stewy whispered into your hair as he pulled you tightly into him, he pressed some soft kisses to the top of your head. “I’ve got you.” He said softly. He was so soft with you today. But Stewy was always soft with you. 

Stewy held you tightly for the rest of the drive and when the car got to the cemetery you tilted your head, so you were still pressed against his chest and looked up. 

“Everybody knows now.” He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, it was a fact either way. 

“Yeah-” 

“Are you okay with that? I’m sorry-” You asked quietly, letting out a little hiccup. Tears still in your eyes. 

“I don’t fucking care who knows. I love you. You baby. The whole world can know and there’s a lot going on today, I think this will be the least of anybody’s concerns or key takeaways. I just care about you.” 

You lean up to give him a soft kiss on the lips, which he eagerly but gently returns. 

“I love you too.” 

“That always helps.” He says and you let out a dry chuckle at that, as you bite your lip looking out the tinted window. “Should we try one of those exercises?” 

“Exercises? I don’t think we can fuck in your car at the cemetery when everyone is here to dispose of my dad-” You say with another dry laugh but some more tears come to stain your cheeks. 

“No, no, no baby.” Stewy chuckles and flashes you a charming smile. “Those like grounding, breathing, you’re an amazing professional ones? Oh the colour one! Um, what’s something purple you can see?” 

You look at Stewy in awe of his sweetness despite the douchey exterior most have to deal with. Your eyes briefly skim around the car and the sea of people in black outside. 

“We’re at a funeral, everyone’s wearing black… Where’s the purple Stewy?” You ask in a tone as teasing as possible but a small sob comes out of you. 

“Well you know I have nothing against outfit repeating but I’d worn a purple blazer to the wake- that wasn’t even a week ago baby. There’s a line, and it would’ve crossed the line. With the turtleneck and trousers and a purple blazer it would’ve looked like I was wearing the same outfit. I can’t do that, not in a week, let alone for two death-related events. People would know.” Stewy rambles on. 

You can’t help but laugh at his ramble, only he would be acutely aware of that and have considered this all in great detail. You laugh into his blazer and nod. He wears a large smile on his face as he notices that this seems to have cheered you up somewhat. There’s still tears but that’s to be expected, he’s just glad that there’s somehow some smiles and laughs in there as well. 

You press yourself into him tightly, inhaling his comforting scent and presence. “Don’t let me go. Not out there, in here. Ever, please.” 

“I’d never dream of it, baby..” Stewy says softly as he presses a kiss into your head and then you both leave the car holding hands.

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Prologue

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: When they interlocked their pinkies none of them ever expected the weirdness that follows the years after. None of them ever expected to start growing apart. None of them ever expected the red string to stay attached. And none of them ever expected that they would be out saving the world with a baseball bat and wings. Yeah... you can’t make this stuff up.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 921 (Small Introduction)

🎲Date: 3/6/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship

🎲A/N: Extremely small chapter, hence why it's just the prologue. I just wanted to show my readers what the big picture is of this story, which is the Steve x OC relationship. However, just like above, this will contained the loving sibling relationship of Dustin, and even Will, between OC. This story also contains Jopper (a personal fav), Jancy, Mileven and the slow burn of Byler (I got to give this boy some love and if you think Will has been a background character for the last few seasons like I have then don't you worry! I'm giving Will a time for him to shine throughout this fic). Anyway, don't want this paragraph to be longer than the actual chapter. Lol. Enjoy!

Pinky Promise.

It’s a bond between two people, a vow that’s taken so it shall not be broken. Childish, you know, but to a small kid it means everything. When they locked their pinkies together, muttering their promises to one another, they both had barely turned five, barely ready to take on the world head first. 

But a promise was a promise— Yet a pinky promise was so much more. It holds so much more weight than crossing your heart or giving a handshake. 

At least it was to these two very best friends…

.

.

.

“Wow.” The blue eyed girl said, genuinely surprised (She can’t even believe their conversation is so calming in a situation like this). “That explains so much. And… you never mentioned that to me before?”

“Well, can you blame me?” He asked, with a small smile and laugh. “I think it kinda does. I think, like, right out of the gate, like, I’m super confident. But I’m also, like, an idiot. Which is just…” He shrugs. “I mean, it’s a brutal combination. But, I mean, the good news is, I get a big enough thump on my head, I can change, you know? I can learn. I can crawl forward.”

She noticed his pace was slowing, and his brown eyes of his were becoming distant. “Steve?”

“Listen–” He stops them both, face looking like a lost puppy now. “I guess what I’m trying to say in a really stupid, roundabout way is, um… is thank you.”

She tilts her head, confused. “Thank you?” She watches him nod, adding fuel to her emotion. “For...?”

His face softens. “For giving my head the biggest thump of its life two years ago.” He chuckles. “Nancy, you know, she gave me the push, but you, Stephanie, gave me the thump I needed. It’s changed my life. And now I’m crawling forward in a way I never thought I could achieve. Slowly.”

And now he’s frowning, looking down at himself, engulfing himself in the glum. “I just wonder sometimes... you know, if... if I had just opened my eyes before I met Nancy, would things have been different? Like… part of me thinks we would’ve made it without our relationship falling apart.”

“Steve–” She croaks, teary eyed and shocked.

“And… you know what the craziest… most messed up part of the story is?”

“What?”

His lips curled up just a bit. “Remember the dream I told you about? About the Winnebago? Seeing the country with my six lil’ nuggets? It’s all true. Every last word. But… the mess up part?” He swallows, also getting emotional. “The mess up part is when I first thought of that dream… is that… you’re there. You’ve always been there.”

“Steve–”

“And that…” He smiles. “That’s my pinky promise to you, Miss Stephanie Henderson.”

.

.

.

The creature shrieked above, its claws waving around frantically –trying to get a nick out of him– as he held it back with some piping. He watched the pupils go all ‘cat-like’, fangs coming out that he swears were growing with each scream. 

He was struggling, he knows this, and he knows he has to buy the kid some time to get a radio signal out to his girlfriend, but he was slipping, fuck it. However, he knows deep in his heart he can’t back down from this.

His jaw clenched and his eyes flash with determination. “I don’t care what you’ve become! I ain’t leaving you, Henderson!” He shouted, hoping his words would get through to her. “That’s a pinky promise.”

.

.

.

“I’m helping you and Dustin out.” He insisted, knowing damn well that she didn’t even want him near her brother, let alone near herself.

She sends him a look, skeptical, on edge. “Why?”

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk–”

“Damn, right.”

“Steph.” He says, stepping in front of her way to get her attention. “We’ll just put this on the backburner. Right now, and I mean it, I just want to help you and Dustin, keep you guys safe. Pinky Promise.”

.

.

.

“Steve–”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, while playing with his hands, nervously, worriedly. “Not until I know you’re okay.”

She frowns apologetically. “You know that might be a while.” 

“I know.”

“I have Dustin and my mom, you don’t have to stay here.”

“I know.” He breaks eye contact. “But what if I want to?”

That made her chuckle. “Well… if you want to.” She says, making them both smile. “Fine sleeping in a chair?”

He nods. “If that’s what I’ll have to do.” He replies, making her hum.

She raises an eyebrow. “Is that a pinky promise?”

“Yeah.” His expression grows. “Pinky promise.”

.

.

.

But what if you break it? The promise? What if you don’t follow through? That is the unfortunate part of this story. The promise was to stay together forever, to make their friendship last a lifetime. For them, they were two peas in a pod, polar opposites that still attached themselves to one another… until they couldn’t.

When the boy decided to become a King, the girl became a peasant. The boy was showered with love and affection, and the girl was on a quest of loneliness that became bitter.

This was a story about Steve Harrington and Stephanie Henderson.

A story, where no matter what happens, the red string still stays attached to their pinkies despite their attempts to take it off.

This was story where the two of them decided to save the world–

Their families–

Their friends–

.

.

.

And their friendship.

(TBC)

A/N: I was so surprised when everyone was asking to be added in just a few short days. Makes me really happy :D

.

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

[dotster001]

Yo! I really enjoy your writting style and was wondering if you do songfics? I didn't see anything in the pinned post but if you don't you can just delete this

If you do, could I request a azul ashengrotto x reader (gn if possible) based on Study Me by Zutomayo? (https://youtu.be/Atvsg_zogxo), i just think that it would be fun for the reader to try and get their feelings across whilst it either flies over azuls head or he just thinks that the reader is pulling a prank on him

Terribly sorry if this request is too guided, i got really exited

Study Me

A/N: hope this is what you wanted, lol, I get especially nervous about song fics, cause it's such a "I know what I want" kind of thing

3k followers masterlist

Azul stared at you, expressionless. Then his lips split in a grin. A grin that sent shivers down your spine.

In these moments when I’m brimming with highly defined painful emotions Saying ‘there’s nothing I can do’ is embarrassing

"Or maybe it was one of his little friends. Either way, I'll find them whether you tell me or not. So this is your last chance."

"Rielle put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Who-" you started, but were cut off by his mirthless laugh.

"I'm so confused, do you not accept my feelings?"

He stared at you, the fury rising in his aura. You were more frightened than worried about your confession.

"I'll say this once. Stop wasting my time."

Ah~ It’s fine, put on your airs as you (you loner) are You punk punk, status quo maintaining immortal

You rushed out, bumping into Jade with a half hearted apology, before running down the hall.

"Don't you think you were too hard on them? Y/N seemed genuine?" Jade asked Azul, seeming genuinely distressed that things had not gone as expected.

"No one could ever love me," Azul smirked. "Find out who put them up to this. Make them pay."

You lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling. It all still hadn't sunk in yet. That he'd laughed in your face. That he'd yelled at you. That he'd outright rejected the deep feelings of love that had, you had thought, been mutually building.

This funky feeling will continue to change today’s song so that’s why I took the plunge

Guess you were wrong.

Your phone buzzed, Jade's name coming up. You let it ring, staring at the ceiling. When it finished that round of buzzing, it started buzzing again, this time Floyd's name popping up on the screen.

You sighed, shutting down your phone, and shutting your eyes, trying to drown out the crushing approach of realization.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you took a heaving breath.

But now I just wanna cry, make a plan for this reference book of emotions I’ve gathered

All this time, you'd truly thought…you'd truly believed …

You thought back to all the lingering glances you'd shared, all the moments you two stood closer than you needed to, the times when Azul initiated a touch or a conversation, and the two of you had hesitated to end it.

Had you truly misread the situation so hard? Was he using you?

Study me, figure me out

Azul was angrily drafting contracts. He'd get them. He'd get whoever had taken your fragile peace, and crushed it. How could he have been so blind? How could he have let you slip through?

"Azul," Floyd whined, waiting on the phone for what had to be the tenth call he had made to you. "Shrimpy really likes you? Why can't you see that?"

The pen in Azul's hand snapped.

"So you put them up to this? I thought you were my friend!" He snarled.

"Shrimpy-"

"You see me as some pathetic, clumsy octopus, just like everyone else!"

"Azul-"

"Get out!"

With a flick of his pen, Floyd floated out of the vip room, landing on his ass as the door slammed shut.

He angrily huffed, and moved to bang on the door, but froze in his step as he heard a shuddering sob from within.

"He's just scared. Please. Talk to him."

What should I do today? I can’t look back without being optimistic, it’d be dangerous

Jade and Floyd had broken into Ramshackle. They were sitting at the foot of your bed, reiterating the tale you'd heard time and again.

You were well aware of Azul's past. But you thought…

I want to stay healthy, at least

You had hoped…

Maybe you could have been enough.

In the end though I’ve managed to raise these emotions

And I’m staying humble about it all, I don’t wanna be poisoned by them

"Why should I try again?" You asked, bitterly. "So he can laugh in my face, again? So he can break my heart again?"

"Honestly? So I can go back into the dorm," Floyd pouted, quickly followed by Jade elbowing him in the side.

You turned on your stomach, burying your face in your pillow.

"Y/N. He loves you. If you try again-"

You groaned, turned back over, and kicked at Jade.

"Shrimpy, until you try again, I'm moving in," Floyd growled.

You kicked at him again, but this only made him laugh.

"You have plenty of empty rooms, roomie! It'll be fun! Confess to Azul~"

He skipped out of the room, seemingly to choose his room. Now it was Jade's turn to sigh.

Azul tried to focus on running the restaurant. Now that they were down a Floyd. But everyone around him was on edge. He couldn't say why for sure-

I put my memories of yesteryear through the wash but as usual In this cold season they’re still not dry In this season of false bravery they’re still not dry.

"Alanno! If you drop one more glass you're fired!"

Yeah. It was a big mystery. Consequently, he had to work twice as hard. So he had time to think.

To think about you.

You're laugh.

Your smile.

The way you always sought him out.

The way you snuggled against him when he helped you with homework.

Had he.…had he been wrong?

No. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? He thought as he snapped at Miles, who was going to comfort his stressed boyfriend.

Wasn't it?

Study me, figure me out

Wasn't it?!?!?!

He dropped his own tray of glasses. Making Miles and Alanno have to fight very hard not to snicker at him.

I hope that the weakness that keeps you thinking of me Is still hurting you, even just a little

He stared at the shards of glass on the floor, before slowly kneeling down.

You would have been comforting him right now. You would have told him to go to his room, while you cleaned his mess. You would have brought him a mug of tea, then sat next to him and caressed his hair.

And I hope that you even start to find them inevitable And be just as soaked in these emotions as me

You might as well have been dating already, with the way you both interacted on a daily basis.

I hope that the strength that keeps you thinking of me Is still troubling you, even just a little

You were probably just playing the long game.

But as he stared at the floor, he realized even if you were pretending…

He would be willing to play along forever.

Study me, figure me out

"Ask him. Ask him. Ask him. Ask him."

Floyd was the worst roommate ever.

But if his tactic was to get you to ask out Azul, again…it was working.

He wasn't just annoying you. He was telling stories. Stories of childhood Azul. Stories of present Azul. Stories of Azul before you. Stories of Azul with you.

Sevens, you love that man…

"Ask him. Ask him. Ask hi-" he cut himself off with your half hearted glare. He grinned, mildly sinisterly, before singing out, "Yes!"

You took a heavy breath, and knocked on the door of the vip room.

I’m choosing the uncertain Cause today’s song will keep changing

"Enter."

You square your shoulders, and push the door open.

He looked up, and his face was immediately beet red, eyes flickering back down to his desk.

"Prefect." He greeted.

"Azul." You said, cooly taking a seat. "I want to make a deal."

His eyes widened, quickly flickering back up to meet yours.

"Oh?"

"There's something I want."

He stiffened, but summoned a golden contract anyway, beginning to write.

"And what, pray tell, would that be?"

"Not what, but who."

The pen snapped. He slowly pulled out a second one.

"Mhmm."

"The problem is, I confessed to him before, and he doesn't love me back. So you'll have to use a love potion."

He froze, and gently set the pen down. He looked up at you, eyes tearing up.

"You don't need one. He already returns your feelings. He's just a stupid idiot sometimes."

You smiled, softly.

"I can work with that."

Isn’t that amazing for both of us?

That’s all i can ask now

[littledollll]

Hiya! Love your writing and I've been Bing reading all of your stuff!I was wondering if yiu would write Brienne x Femme reader? I love the idea of the reader having like a pre existing relationship with brienne and she confides in brienne about being frustrated she can't find men attractive and Brienne asks her if she's ever found anyone attractive and the reader gets shy and they eventually end up being all fluffy and maybe smut? Brienne in a strap?

Clueless

Brienne of Tarth x reader

A/n: lowkey think I want my Brienne fics to exist in the same universe (being “Only you”) so ima do that unless it’s requested otherwise

Warnings: really just fluff and love confessions, smut, strap ons, oral (R receiving)

You were waiting for Brienne to get back from the bathhouse in her quarters, mindlessly looking through her stuff just trying to pass time when she came in, hair slightly damp and messy, comfortable clothes and towel around her neck, gods she looked so good- “what on earth are you doing?” Her voice interrupted your thinking as she caught you standing over her desk looking through her things. “Uhh obviously making sure your room is up to code, kings orders!”

“Oh yeah? You wouldn’t happen to be snooping around my personal belongings” her tone was teasing, as she closed the door behind her, crossing her arms. Her voice drove you mad. You played it off though. “Snooping? Me? Neverrr” “looking for something you need?” A genuine question now. “No, really I was just curious and passing time, just waiting for you.” You answered truthfully, before throwing yourself on her bed and turning to look at her.

Brienne tilted her head. “What’s on your mind?” “I can’t believe you said the word ‘snooping’” you laughed. She rolled her eyes at you, also making her way to her bed before sitting down, you laid opposite directions, you fully on laying on the bed while Brienne’s back was against the footboard. “I apologize for my informality, princess.” She joked but looked at your serious again. “Now tell me what you’re actually thinking about” you groan and roll over hiding your face in her pillow “24 years, Bri, I’ve been dating men 24 years, and I’m starting questioning if I’m even attracted to them“ did you causally just come out to her?

“You’re not, I thought we knew this” She replied, You threw the pillow at her. “Don’t be mean! Also what do you mean..” she caught the pillow and placed it back on the bed. “Well none of your relationships have worked with them, you’ve never had a sexual encounter you’ve enjoyed-“ you hid your face again. “how can you say that so casually!” She grinned. “That’s what I used to think when you came to me to talk about it, we’ve come full circle”

“I was going to apologize but I’m not that sorry.” You said, meeting her eyes, after a beat she spoke up again. “So what do you find attractive?” Was she going for a record on how many times she can make you blush or something? “I don’t wanna talk about that, Bri-“ she interrupted you. “It’s me. If not with me then who else are you going to talk to, I need names incase I’m being replaced.” You exaggerated a gasp acting offended. “I would never! How dare you think so low of me.”

“Tell me then.” Brienne grabbed the pillow she previously put down and put it on the footboard, leaning her head back and humming. “I really don’t think I should-“ she sighed in fake annoyance. “By gods, if you don’t just spit it out already-“ you sat up in preparation and took a breath. “okay fine it’s you! You and your stupid messy hair, your voice, who you are compared to me versus the rest of the world, how protective you are, how I have to tilt my head to look at you, the tone you use whenever we have playful banter and the way you just- exist. It’s you. I like you. Actually I love you.”

“Dammit that feels great to say out loud actually!- And I know, I know you’re my guard and friend and it’s so inappropriate and you probably don’t feel the same way-” one minute you were rambling and the next her lips were on yours, pulling you into a bruising kiss, to which you eagerly responded, wishing to get closer, you moved into her lap, arms wrapping around her neck. When you pulled away you were both panting, Brienne looked at you with pure adoration before speaking. “I hope that clears any doubts you might have had about my feelings towards you?”

You rested your forehead against hers, smiling. “I don’t know Bri, might need a little more reassurance..” She hummed, pushing you to lay on the bed before she walked off, opening one of her drawers she pulled out a strap-on, the visible surprise on your face made her chuckle. “Undress.” Of course you complied, she undressed along with you and put the toy on, crawling over you on the bed, she made you feel extremely small, you loved it.

“I’ll guess you didn’t have much time to pry around my room that well, princess.” Not waiting for you to reply, she gave you a quick peck before moving down your body. “m- no I didn’t-“ once she reached your center she looked up at you, silently asking for permission, you gave her a nod. Brienne wasted no time, immediately her lips were sucking your clit making you whimper and grind against her. She snuck two fingers into your entrance, stretching you out, she pumped into you a few times before adding a third, making you scream.

She allowed you to ride her face as you got close and closer to your release but she pulled away just in time to prevent it. “No no no please-! Bri I was so close!” She kissed your navel, crawling up to meet you, her hand smoothed over your cheek as she kissed you again. You moaned as you tasted yourself on her tongue, needy hips grinding against the strap that was resting between your legs. “So needy.. I’ll make you scream, princess.”

Her arms rested on either side of your head as she aligned herself and slowly pushed into you, you sighed as she bottomed out. Briennes head rested between your neck, marking your shoulder and collarbone as she started pounding harder and faster into you. Your nails scratched her back at her reckless pounding, making her moan, you could hear the bed bump against the wall and almost screamed when one of her hands started rubbing your clit.

“Please oh- please let me cum please I need it-“ she complied, speeding up her thrusts until she felt your thighs clench around her, she kissed you, muffling your scream as she slowly came to a stop with you shaking beneath her. She pulled out and took off the strap before laying beside you and pulling you to lay on top of her, hand soothing your back as you recovered from your orgasm. She kissed your head when you nuzzled further into her neck. The silence was comforting, you were falling asleep when you heard her speak. “I love you too, my love.”

[deputyrook]

Impressions- 2/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

(Repost after I accidentally deleted my tumblr 😭)

PART 1.

You're a reluctant psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(Can I make it any more obvious?)

Word count: 3498

WARNINGS: Gaslightling, corruption, stockholm syndrome, some drug use (painkillers), blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, general Saw-levels of horror.

this fic is kind of goofy, because I'm writing it for fun and not taking it super seriously! enjoy 💕

“Mark didn’t hit on you, did he?” Kerry asks over the phone, a note of disgust in her voice, “If he did, I’ll kick his ass. Though… you didn't exactly look uncomfortable when you fell into his arms yesterday. Am I wrong?”

Sometimes, you wondered how Kerry could be so oblivious.

You swallow a handful of painkillers before you answer her, washing them down with a swig of stale soda that’s been sitting out on your counter. 

“He's, what, ten years older than us?” You ask, setting down the can and playing with the cord of your telephone.

“That’s not an answer,” Kerry teases, “And he’s early forties, I think. Hey, I won’t stop you. I'll sure as hell judge you, but I won't stop you.”

The events of the prior evening feel surreal now, in the morning light of the next day. Detective Mark Hoffman hasn’t contacted you, and if you didn’t have his phone number saved in your cell, you would have thought the entire car ride had been a bad dream. 

You can’t help but second guess yourself now- had he ever actually admitted to being an accomplice? What if he was just a defensive asshole, and you’d misinterpreted everything again? The doubts creep in, now that your visions have been chased away, back into hiding in the recesses of your mind.

“Not interested,” you mutter. “I wasn’t feeling great last night, you know that. I barely remember getting home.”

Kerry’s tone sobers at that, and you hear her sigh. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I know you don’t like doing that, but we were completely out of leads.”

“And you still are,” you note, “I didn’t dream of anything useful last night, by the way. Total void.” If you’re lucky, you’ll never have another vision about the Jigsaw murders, though you suspect you’ve been plunged headfirst into the thick of it.

The painkillers will keep the flashes at bay, at least for now. The rest will come to you, jumbled and nonsensical, when it’s least convenient.

“Not entirely. But how are you feeling?” Kerry asks. She’s never been the best at heart-to-hearts, or at fielding your psychic nonsense, but you can hear the genuine concern in her voice for you. You wish you could tell her- the killer she hunts is right there, in the office across the hall, she could be in danger- but with the potential risk to both her and you, it’s just not worth it. 

Not unless you manage to get your hands on some hard evidence of Hoffman’s involvement. 

Years of dealing with a surrealist-nightmare-kaleidoscope for a brain had forced you to become patient. You could bide your time and wait carefully until an opportunity to steal some actual proof arose. Until then, you just had to keep breathing.

“Helloooo? Are you there?” Kerry’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry Ally. You know how I get. I called in sick today, but I’m alright. I promise. Nothing some rest and relaxation can’t fix,” you try to smile, but you can’t hide the exhaustion in your voice. 

“Good,” she says, resolute, “I won’t ask you to come in again. Not unless something else comes to you. But I won’t believe he’s dead. Not yet.” It doesn’t take psychic abilities to know she’s talking about Eric Matthews, nor to feel the regret she carries with her, punctuating her words.

“And you shouldn’t. You know my hit rate on alive-versus-dead isn’t always the best.” Kerry hums in consideration at your words, and after you both say your goodbyes to one another, you hang up the receiver of the phone.

Once again, you’re left in the silence of your lonely apartment- save for your cat, who brushes up against your leg with a purr. He reminds you so easily that it’s not just your life on the line, here. Would Jigsaw ever try to test a cat...? Reaching down to scratch behind his ears, you try to consider your next steps carefully.

But all it does is make your head hurt. You pluck an ice pack from your freezer and lay down on your sofa, holding it to your head with a soft groan.

You must fall back asleep at some point, because you’re woken up from a dreamless sleep by the ringing of your phone. You check your home phone, and then, realizing it’s not the culprit, rifle through your bag for your cell.

“Hello?” You mumble into the phone as you flip it open, blinking awake.

“What, were you asleep? It’s the middle of the day,” Hoffman says.

“I called in sick. Got in pretty late last night, and I didn’t sleep the best,” You deadpan. Without being right next to him, it’s easier to keep your cool and not get flustered.

“We should talk. Let’s get dinner,” he says, “Six-o-clock. You know Eve’s Diner? On Newhaven street- with the neon sign?”

Your stomach drops. It didn’t seem like he was just asking you out politely. When was the last time you got dinner with a man, anyway? His tone is so casual that it makes you want to squirm.

“Yeah, I know the place. It's pretty close by, right?” At least in public, he wouldn’t be able to do anything overtly threatening to you. It didn’t seem like there was any use in arguing with him, or telling him you weren’t feeling up to it. He knows your address, and he apparently knows Jigsaw. That's enough to secure your compliance.

“Good. I’ll see you there, then.” And he hangs up the phone.

Your head throbs, but it’s lessened in severity since the morning. You consider taking another batch of painkillers, but decide against it. If you’re meeting Hoffman for dinner, it might be better to stay sharp.

—

The sight of Mark Hoffman, sitting in a diner booth, would be almost comical if it wasn’t so nerve-wracking. He’s stirring some sugar into his coffee, hunched against the wall, his hair smoothed back neatly and his police badge hanging around his neck. He looks tired, you think, but otherwise like a normal, upstanding member of society- if not one slightly too large and too dour for the diner table he’s seated at.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. 

He nods toward you in recognition, before leaning back in the seat. Mark looks at you, up and down, in silent surveyance. You stare back, studying him in return. Both of you size each other up, like the other is the dangerous one.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” He says, “And after some more thought, I’m not convinced. For all I know, maybe you’re workin’ with John Kramer. That seems more likely than you being psychic.”

Ah. You’ve gotten this reaction before. When someone, with time and consideration, doubles back to doubt your abilities. You couldn’t exactly blame him for that. Particularly for skeptics, it’s a hard pill to swallow that you have access to senses that they don’t.

Being accused of being a serial killer was new territory, however.

“I’m not working with Jigsaw,” you sputter, keeping your voice quiet. The diner isn’t too busy, and you’re seated in a corner away from other patrons, but it’s still public enough that you want to be careful. “Shouldn’t you know I’m not?”

He squints at you, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying or not. 

“You tell me. You said there were four. Jigsaw, Amanda, myself- according to you- and so who’s the fourth? If it’s not you.” He sounds impatient. You blink at him, trying to process where he’s coming from. And then, it hits you. He doesn’t know. 

For a second, you consider trying to play it off like you are the fourth apprentice. Maybe then, he’d trust you more directly with information that you could use against him. But then, you re-evaluate. Lying to a mass murderer was probably a bad idea. Lying to a cop was arguably worse.

“Well, it’s not me. But yeah, there’s at leastfour involved that I picked up on. Four main...signatures,” You pause, before continuing. “So that’s why you want me to tell you about what I sense. Even you don’t know what he’s planning, or everyone who’s involved.”

“I’ve been on this case since the beginning. Of course I wanna know. Especially since you’re out here accusing me,” He remarks, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing, “Kerry didn’t act any different toward me this morning. Good. Keeping your theories to yourself was smart.”

“Yes, lest you start actually convincing me you’re not Jigsaw, let me not forget how you threatened me last night,” You mumble, crossing your arms in front of your chest protectively.

“You pouting about it?” He asks, teasing, a smirk just barely edging onto his face, “C’mon. Show me your trick. How do you do it?” He beckons you closer, and you find yourself leaning in across the table. Like you’re sharing a secret with him. 

“It’s not like I’m getting visions of the future, per se,” You try to explain, “It’s more like... hyper intuition. I get emotions, mostly. It’s an extreme version of empathy. Sometimes I get flashes of imagery from the past, present, and future, but it’s usually mixed up so I can’t tell which is which. Mainly, I just trust my gut. Which isn’t often wrong- but my interpretation of what I’m seeing can be off. Has been.”

“Hyper-intuition, huh?” He says, mulling it over, “Tell me something else about me, then. Prove it.”

You swallow uncomfortably. “I uh, need to be touching you.”

Mark raises his eyebrows at you. Before he can say anything mocking, the waitress comes by, filling both of your coffee cups. She takes your orders quickly, as though picking up on the vibe that you both want to be left alone. When she leaves, Mark spreads his hands in a gesture as if to say, do your thing, then.

Gently, you reach out and take his hands in yours. Rough, calloused, and strong. You try not to think about it as you close your eyes, and allow the gate to open for the second time in two days.

The chattering in the diner fades away into the background as your intuition takes hold, clouding out your other five senses like the moon passing over the sun in a total eclipse. First, there’s just darkness. Even the sensation of Mark’s skin against yours fading to a dull buzz. Then, sensations begin to spawn, bubbling up from somewhere else.

From the man seated across from you, you think.

“Strawberries,” you murmur, the taste of fresh, wild berries being the first thing that comes to you, sweet and tart, “I think they were picked wild, by mindful fingers. Yours are older, but never as gentle. Her small hands were always more careful than yours, never crushing the berries like you did.”

It’s a kind, well-loved memory -you assume- the impression coming in easy and unambiguous. The next is more muddled.

“Ah- pain. There’s noise, it’s discordant and loud,” You wince, squeezing Mark’s hands. You tilt your head, trying to make out the source, but all you get is scraps of yelling, fighting, shivering hands, the smell of rain. 

It melts then, into that feeling again. The deep, unending well of misery. Loss, in its purest form. Utter loneliness, vast like an unending ocean.

“It’s like the sun went out,” you whisper, voice cracking. Your heart is breaking. The depth of your pain is nearly unbearable, and it makes you want to pull back and disconnect. “It’s like all the light’s been snuffed from this world. Alone.”

“Yeah,” Mark’s voice confirms, calm, quiet and sombre, “You know why that is, don’t you?”

You frown, hands trembling. The smell of blood rises, pungent and sickening. Blood, blood, so much blood. It smells so strong that you can taste it. Then something else- formaldehyde. The words leave your mouth before you can register what they mean.

“He took her from me,” You murmur hoarsely, a pure conduit for the feeling. Dimly, you’re aware of hands squeezing yours back, too tight.

Then, the rage. The despair. An energy trapped, like a feral animal in an enclosure. Desperate to make things right again, to make the world right, with no way to do it that makes sense.

Trapped, trapped, trapped. Starving. Alone again.

You’re lost in the feeling before Mark’s voice pulls you back.

“He deserved what he got,” he says, and you’re redirected. The sun is still gone, the world is still cold. Justice is a fleeting concept, a principle that isn’t achieved until you make it happen.

The world is so cold without the sun, but he died screaming for taking her. That’s justice enough. 

And then, a finality- a sense of purpose.

"They all deserve it," you say.

You open your eyes, and let go of his hands. Hoffman’s expression is hard to read as you settle back in the booth. The despair still lingers over you, like a chill that’s seeped into your bones.

“That your thought, or mine?” He asks finally. “You must have felt a lot of it over the years. Other people’s pain.”

“Sure,” you reply, “Everyone’s got it. Life isn’t fair.”

“Not unless you make it fair,” Mark counters, “You can’t tell me he didn’t deserve to die like that for what he did.”

“Can you just tell me?” You ask quietly, “So I can get the full picture, no missing pieces of the puzzle. The loss...was your sister? He killed her?”

Mark thinks about it for a second. He looks like he’s going to refuse you, not responding for so long that you wonder if he’s deliberately ignoring you. 

Your food arrives before he answers, the waitress bringing your plates and setting them down in front of you both. Mark's ordered a cheeseburger and fries, the all-American classic diner food; you a club sandwich, though your appetite has evaporated since you've arrived here. And after yesterday, it was barely present to begin with.

Then finally, after you both have started to eat, he speaks.

“My sister’s ex-boyfriend murdered her. Seth Baxter. A sick, abusive fuck. He was convicted, got life in jail. Took a couple of years, but he finally went away for it. Well, he filed an appeal. His new lawyer said that the jury was tainted by the evidence of his history of domestic assaults on women, that the evidence was improperly admitted and ‘prejudicial’ to his case. After five years, the case was successfully appealed... and he went free,” A feeling of disgust and rage twists in you, and you can’t tell whether it’s Hoffman’s or yours.

“So you...”

“Jigsaw killed him,” Mark answers, “Cut him in half. He was already dating someone new when he was picked up. Tell me that's not fair.”

The words hang in the air, and you take them in. You’re starting to learn to read Mark’s face better, you think, because you can detect just a hint of smugness in his expression. You try to determine how you feel about this, but your feelings are still all tangled up in Hoffman’s. Extricating them is difficult.

“So he deserved it,” You say finally, “Jigsaw’s not just a vigilante. He kidnaps people who are- who are addicted to drugs, or who only hurt themselves, and he makes them play in these sick games. It's not right,” You can’t believe you’re arguing the philosophy of Jigsaw with one of the murderers himself. It seems unbelievable.

Mark actually rolls his eyes at you.

“It’s either people who deserve it, or people who don’t deserve their lives to begin with,” He murmurs, “think about it.”

Then you remember the feeling you’d gotten before, at the police station. The deep, dark depths of satisfaction. A kind of beast in the heart, ugly and hungry and grinning. The thought that you might have inadvertently given it some purchase in your own mind freaks you the hell out.

“Easy for you to say,” you whisper, the fear keeping your voice barely audible, “You like watching people hurt.”

Mark doesn’t deny it- maybe he sees no use in doing so, when you already know better. He looks at you coldly, calculating.

“Does it matter?” He says, “Keep your word, and you won’t be on the receiving end.”

You take a sip of your water nervously, looking around the diner. Though still not exceptionally busy, you’ve both nearly finished your food (well, Mark has, you've picked away at yours), and more people are trickling in the door. If you continue to talk here, it may become more difficult to avoid being overheard.

Wouldn’t that be a good thing, for you?

“Let’s finish up,” Mark says, as though he’s been reading your mind, “We can meet up again later. I'm going to ask you more about this mystery fourth person. So keep your eyes open," he pauses, and huffs. "Or closed, I guess."

"And Kerry will be fine?" You ask, insistently, "She's a good person, Hoffman."

"Is she?" He challenges, "she wasn't exactly discreet with Matthews. And she knew he was dirty. As far as I can tell, you're her only friend."

"Oh, and you didn't know?" You snap back, defensive, "If she deserves to be tested, we all do."

Mark stands, putting on his coat. "Yeah. Or most, at least." He replies in agreement.

"Come on," he adds, his hand on the small of your back again. You can't tell if it's meant to be possessive, threatening, or whether he's done it without even thinking about it. Perhaps surprisingly, it doesn't feel as uncomfortable this time around. "I'll walk you home. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

--

A worm has been planted in your mind, and it feeds.

Over the next week, you feel more torn than you think you've ever felt in your life. Mark Hoffman's words bore into your mind, repeating over and over, with the echos of his pain piercing through you in random intervals. You flit between feeling angry at the situation you're in, and wanting to go to Kerry and lay it all out on the table, to a strange feeling of camaraderie with Mark Hoffman.

It's a downside you've always had to reading someone, and inviting them in- you feel connected with them, permanently. Once you see through their eyes, and feel what they feel, it's hard for you to just pull away again. A piece of them remains.

It was like you were being tested yourself. By connecting with the worst possible person, you were pushing yourself- how strained could the connection be, how adverse to your own interest, while you still feel like you're on the same side?

You lie awake at night, replaying your conversation with Mark in your mind. Thinking of all the hurt you'd ever felt, yours and everyone's, echoing forever.

Needless to say- you weren't doing great. And the fact that you weren't sleeping well didn't help.

Dreams came frequently after that shared dinner with Mark Hoffman. You dreamt alternately of horrible panic, the feeling of being trapped, and physical pain that makes you wake up sobbing. So many images form in your mind that it's hard to keep track- scalpels, keys, case files, teeth, distorted statues, the smell of antiseptic.

You text it all to Mark as it comes to you. Anyone looking at your text log would think you were both insane.

But still, you tell him your dreams, and he listens. You theorize about the fourth person together, like you're trying to solve the case. You trade tidbits, make suggestions, and rule out others.

You kind of... like texting him.

---

[2:33AM - Outgoing] Just woke up with the image of a blonde woman in my head. I don't know who she is.

[2:37AM - Incoming] could be jill tuck. ex-wife.

[2:39AM - Incoming] Photo Message

[2:42AM - Outgoing] Nope, sorry. Not her.

[2:45AM - Incoming] i thought maybe she was the 4th

[2:47AM - Outgoing] Blonde woman didn't feel like the 4th. Looked like a scientist of some kind? Idk. Wearing a white lab coat.

[2:49AM - Outgoing] I also got a red room with a bunch of pictures. Like Polaroids maybe? Hung up I think. Not sure if it was connected to the blonde woman.

[2:50AM - Incoming] that ones a red herring. already happened

[2:52AM - Outgoing] Ugh

[2:56AM - Outgoing] How long is this going to last?

[2:57AM - Incoming] what

[2:59AM - Outgoing] You keeping me as your pet psychic

[3:00AM - Incoming] you think i'm planning to stop?

[3:01AM - Incoming] you'd better get used to me.

[3:02AM - Incoming] remember. delete these.

[3:04AM - Outgoing] Yeah, yeah. Do you ever sleep?

[3:05AM - Incoming] when i'm not being woken up by txts

[3:08AM - Incoming] lets meet this weekend

[3:08AM - Incoming] I want to show you something

--

--

(author's note: the true dynamic is emerging! and yes, I had to go on a little sidebar on how seth baxter's sentence could have actually been reversed. i'm a prosecutor, I can't help myself.)

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @thebrideofcaliban

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