#i would say it was fine but then the very next day i got burrowing heaven and the train. adhd exploiters. good heavens

[cent-scratchnsniff]

recreation of the genuine distress i felt after getting to central command the first time

[starsinthesky5]

you belong with me l || joe burrow x reader

description: you and joe have been best friends ever since ohio state and you’ve been his biggest supporter for as long as you both could remember. it was always the same dynamic between you both, friends. very very very close friends. but what if you wanted to be more than just friends?

a/n: best friends to lovers HELLO? you are both so oblivious yet so aware of your feelings at the same time it is crazy. so many little moments that have you like “how the hell are you not aware you’re in love with each other?”.

you’re in denial for a lot of this fic, and Joe pretty much knows what he wants but is a little scared to actually do something about it 

part 2

warnings: language, mentions of sex (no actual smut)

word count: 13.3 k 

—-------------------------------------

Thursday

You had just gotten home from running a few errands, absolutely exhausted from all the running around you had been doing from Christmas shopping and planning for your sister's wedding. You left all the bags in your entryway and collapsed on your couch. 

“Ughh,” you groaned into the pillow. It had been a pretty chaotic week for you and you felt tired and burnt out, and were in desperate need of a night out. 

You heard your phone buzz in your pocket so you moved to lay on your back and pulled your phone out to see who was calling. The name on your screen immediately made you smile and forget about your fatigue, so naturally, you answered it. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Joe said over the phone as he sat down on his couch.

“Hi Joe,” you smiled as you started twirling your his sweatshirt string. Somehow you ended up with a few of Joe’s shirts or hoodies in your closet from when you’d be over at his place or him at yours. Currently, you have one of his old LSU hoodies which was a little big on you, but that made it even more comfier. “How was practice?”. 

“Good,” He breathed out, sounding a little weary. 

“Is something wrong? You sound extra tired,” you ask your best friend. 

“Nah, Just the usual tiredness from practice but I’m fine,” he lied.

You could tell when Joe would lie to you, the tone of his voice would usually give it away. And right now, he was lying to you. “I know you too well Joe, what's up?”. 

He let out a sigh and said, “The Bengals Christmas Party is tomorrow night and I’m dreading it,”. 

“Ahhh, I see. Mr. Hermit Crab has to go to a partyyyy,” you tease. 

“Really funny,” He says, rolling his eyes which you could feel through the screen.

“I know you don’t partially enjoy parties but it’s Christmas, lighten up,” you tell him. “There will be lots of people there to keep you company,”.

“And that’s just the problem. Everyone there is just gonna wanna talk about football and I need one night to just relax,” he says. 

You felt bad for Joe since you knew how all of this would get draining for him. It was already stressful enough that the playoffs were slowly creeping up and the background noise was only getting louder by the day, and then he had 50 other things on top of that to do. He didn’t get any break time once December rolled around. That’s also why it was hard for him to enjoy his birthday, which happened to be next Sunday. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I wish I could do something to stop you from going but you are the face of the team and not going would look bad,”.

As he listens to you, an idea pops into his head. He sits up and says, “You know, it would be a lot more tolerable if you came with me?”. 

Your eyes light up at his offer. Joe always ended up bringing you with him to events like this. Ever since he got drafted by the Bengals, you’d be right by his side at any team activities that needed a plus 1. At first, you weren’t really sure why he’d bring you along with him, and quite honestly you still aren’t really sure since he could just go alone or bring anyone else, but it always seemed to make him more comfortable when you were there and you’d be happy to keep him company at any given time.

“That’s if you're free?” He adds.

“Oh trust me, I am. I’m in desperate need of a night out so this might be the thing I need,” you say as you hop off the couch and walk into your bedroom to figure out an outfit for tomorrow. 

“Everything alright?” He asks as he gets up to figure out his own outfit for tomorrow now that he actually has a reason to go. 

“Yeah, just a triple homicide. Work, Christmas, and my Sister's wedding planning,” you say as you pull out a few Christmasy dresses, none really catching your eye. 

“Damn, December really isn’t our month,” he laughs. “You need a night out,”. 

“You got that right,” you smile. You're just about to ask him what he was thinking of wearing to the party but your sister calls you, interrupting you and Joe’s call. 

“Shit, my Sister’s calling me. Probably more wedding stuff,” you sigh.

“That’s okay,” he laughs. “I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow,” he adds.

“Sounds perfect. See you tomorrow,” you smile.

“Bye, Y/N,” he replies before hanging up. You then call your sister back, placing the phone on speaker and throwing it onto the bed.

“Hey Kaylee,” you say as you go back to outfit hunting for tomorrow. 

“Hey, you busy?” She asks.

“A little. I’m trying to find an outfit for tomorrow,” you say as you pull out a cropped red sweater. 

“What’s tomorrow?” She asks.

“Joe asked me to go with him to the team Christmas party,” you said as you dug through your closet for a black mini skirt and sheer tights to go with the sweater. 

“Aw that’s nice,” she says. “You know, with the number of things Joe brings you to or does with you, you’d think that you both would be a couple by now. You are practically his girlfriend,” she jokes, only partly though. 

You immediately stop looking through your closet and turn back to face your phone. “What?” you say as you feel yourself turning red at the mention of being his girlfriend, a thought you buried all those years ago because you thought it was silly. 

“I’m just joking, Y/N, kind of. But I mean, you are doing what girlfriends typically do. I know you’re really close friends and you have been for years, but he brings you to like everything and you’re always doing something together. People think you’re his secret girlfriend for a reason,” she says. 

You find yourself staring off into space as she’s talking. Deep down, you knew she was right but you just didn’t want to look at it that way. You were doing girlfriend duties for him and it became clearer as time passed by. At first, it didn’t bother you much, it was just two best friends doing best friend things right? It was completely normal for you to go to every single one of his games, go to these team events with him, and spend so much time together, right? But as time went on, you started to realize that maybe people’s comments weren’t totally out of left field. It did look like you were his girlfriend, especially since he didn’t have any other girl with him most of the time. 

You had feelings for Joe back when you first met at Ohio State, but you never did anything about them because you thought he didn’t feel the same. You spent weeks spiraling over your feelings towards him, but you eventually gave up because you didn’t want to lose him as a friend in case he felt differently about you, so you buried the feelings and moved on. Or so you thought you buried them. Clearly, that wasn’t the case since you were spiraling, again, at the thought of being his girlfriend and being told that you were acting like it too.  

You never pushed Joe about his dating life because you thought that was boundary stomping. Yes, you two were very close, but you didn’t really want to know the details about his love life for many reasons. You just watched that part of his life from a distance. He had a few girlfriends over the years, none of which stuck around or fizzled out over time. The only consistent girl in his life was you. And that’s why everyone thought you were his girlfriend when he first got drafted.

They were convinced you both were either dating or hooking up, neither of which was true. It was a little awkward when that gained traction, but it slowly faded out over time but still lingered to this day. You both tried to not let it affect your friendship and for the most part, it worked. You ignored and continued to support him in every way possible, but those thoughts of you being a couple were buried deep inside your mind and sometimes peeked through, just like how they were right now. 

“I haven’t really looked at it that way,” you lied. 

“Of course you haven’t. Why would you? Joe is such a great guy and has been a great friend to you for years. Why would you ever think that way,” she laughs.

Being best friends with one of the best quarterbacks in the league had its perks. But you weren’t one to take advantage of that often. You were just there to support your best friend and enjoy the ride. To everyone else, he was Joe Burrow. But to you, he was just Joe. And you loved that you got to see the real him and the guy you met in college was still there regardless of everything that’s changed since then. 

“Rightttt,” you say as you sit down on your bed.

“Well anyways, I’ll leave you to it. I was just calling about what the menu should look like for the pre-wedding brunch but we can talk about that later,” she says.

“You sure?” You ask.

“Positive. Have fun at the party and tell Joe I said hi,”.

“Thanks, Kaylee and I will. I’ll call you soon,” you say as you hang up. You toss your phone to the side and fall back onto your bed. The thought of you and Joe being a couple was stupid, right? You both had been friends for years and never once did he show any other feelings other than friendship towards you, so why was this even a thought? Were you not seeing something that everyone else was? Did Joe ever have the same thoughts as you?

He was the perfect guy. He was kind, selfless, funny, attractive, smart, and charming. Any girl would be so lucky to have him as her boyfriend. Wouldn’t it be nice if he was your boyfriend? He matches your vibe completely and you both have so much in common, plus you already know so much about each other. You would be the perfect couple and people wouldn’t even be surprised if you got together. 

“Nah, this is stupid,” you shook your head as you broke out of whatever fantasy you were dreaming about. 

But was it a fantasy, or was it something that you both wished was reality deep down?

Friday Night 

The next day flew by pretty quickly and you found yourself sitting at your vanity, applying the last bit of makeup before Joe picked you up. You opted for a cropped red sweater, a black mini skirt with sheer tights, and black knee-high boots. Jewelry-wise, you didn’t go all out. Just your usual earrings and necklaces, but you made sure to wear the diamond tennis bracelet Joe got you after he signed his rookie contract. You didn’t wear it often since it was so expensive, but whenever you did, Joe would notice and a huge smile would appear on his face. 

Flashback to 2020

You sat down on Joe’s couch as he brought over two glasses of red wine. He had called you over for dinner tonight at his new place that he bought once his contract money came through.

“I loveee your house. It’s very homey,” you chirp as you pull a plush blanket over your legs. 

“Thank you,” he smiles as he sits down, handing you your wine glass. “If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be upgrading in a few years,”.

“Oh trust me, it’ll go just as planned,” you say, taking a sip of the blood red wine. “You’re about to set the league on fire,”.

“I appreciate the confidence,” Joe laughs as he sips his wine. 

“I’m so glad you got drafted to Cincy. It was already tough enough that you were down in Baton Rouge for 2 years, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you got drafted anywhere else,” you sigh. 

“Sounds like somebody missed me,” he said as he threw his head back into the couch pillow.

“No shit, goofball. I missed my best friend,” you laughed as you playfully shoved his shoulder. 

“Well, take this as an apology,” he says, putting his glass to the side and reaching down to grab something from the side of the couch. He pulls up a small lilac gift bag and places it in your lap. 

“What’s this?” you question as butterflies fill your stomach. You place your glass on the side table and examine the little bag.

“An apology for being away for 2 years,” he says, raising his eyebrows and motioning you to open the bag.

“It’s not like I didn’t see you at all. I went to a few games and you still came back here during your breaks,” you said as you patted his thigh. 

“Still, I wasn’t at your fingertips like I usually am,” he laughs, causing a blush to creep up your face. “Just open it,”.

You nod and open the bag and are met with a beige box. You open the box and your jaw drops at the sight of a shiny, very real-looking, diamond tennis bracelet sitting inside. 

“Joe, what the fuck,” you whispered as you ran your fingers across the big diamonds. “You didn’t have to- This must’ve been so expensive,”.

“Don’t worry about all that. It’s a gift from me to my best friend and saying no would be rude,” he says, grabbing the bracelet and helping you put it on. “In case you forgot, I am a millionaire now, and you never wanna upset a millionaire,” he jokes. 

“Don’t send your minions on me now,” you joke as he clasps the bracelet onto your wrist. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do this,”.

He tilts his head, giving you a look that you never were one to argue with. “Fine, Fine. Thank you sooo much. I love it,” you say as you launch yourself onto him, pulling him in for a warm hug. 

He wraps his arms around you tightly and laughs into your shoulder. His hand runs up and down your back as you run your fingers through his soft hair. You weren’t sure how long you both were hugging; you were waiting for him to pull away, but he was waiting for you to pull away. But at the same time, neither of you really wanted to pull away. 

You appreciated the glamorous gift from him, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel butterflies in your belly when you opened the box. Little did you know this bracelet was his first official purchase from his contract money. He knew that once the money hit his account, he wanted to buy you something to show how much he cared for you, the only girl that has been by his side through thick and thin. 

End of flashback 

Last night’s thoughts were no longer in your head as you reminded yourself that Joe was just your best friend. Nothing more, and nothing less. There was no reason to ruin your bond with a silly little pipe dream. 

You heard your phone buzz from what was probably a text from Joe. You opened the text, laughing at the text, which was a little inside joke you two had made over the years.

Joe: getaway car 

“Getaway Car” was a term you both would use whenever you needed to escape something. Whether it was wanting to leave a college party because you were feeling uncomfortable, wanting to leave an awkward situation, or like right now, when either of you needed a break from life and needed to do something fun. All you would say to each other was “getaway car” and you’d know what was up.  

You smiled at the text, grabbed your purse, and made your way out the door and down to his car. 

Meanwhile, Joe was humming along to the song playing on his aux, ‘Lovers Rock’ by TV Girl. You both had made a shared Spotify playlist years ago back at OSU and would often listen to the playlist whenever you were together, so naturally he had to play it on the way to the party. This song was clearly your addition as Joe’s music taste was a little different, but he’d learn to enjoy songs like this because of you. 

You also used to listen to this playlist during the time Joe was away at LSU and you would miss talking to him since he was extremely busy. He would do the same on those nights when he was alone and couldn’t sleep because he would be missing your silly little movie nights, thinking about if you were having these movie nights with anyone else while he was away. 

You made your way out of your apartment building, spotted Joe’s car, and walked over to it. You knocked on the window since he was too busy staring off into space to notice you walk over. He jumped slightly at the sudden noise but then relaxed as he realized it was just you. He unlocks the door which you swing open, hopping inside and letting out a deep breath.

“Woo, it’s freezing out there,” you say as you rub your hands together for some warmth. 

He stares at you up and down, taking in your outfit which you looked stunning in, his eyes stopping at your wrist which was decked with the diamond bracelet he got you. A smile creeps on his face, which you notice. 

“You look really beautiful,” He smiles as he puts the car into drive and exits the parking lot. 

You blushed at his compliment as you also took in what he was wearing. Black jeans and a dark green sweater along with one of his many diamond chains. He looked so good right now. The way his hair naturally fell into place, the way his mouth was curled up into a smile, and the way his sweater fit perfectly around his muscular arms. He just looked so good. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Burrow,” you tease. 

“Thanks for coming with me by the way,” he smiles over at you.

“Anytime,” you smile back. “Remember, just say ‘getaway car’ if you wanna leave if you get overwhelmed or something,”. 

“Aye-Aye, Captain,” he salutes. 

You take note of the song playing in the car and you blush again, and then hear Joe singing a bit of the song under his breath.

"While the others talk, We were listening to lovers rock, In her bedroom," he mumbles.

“Lovers Rock?” You question. “Damn, someone’s music taste def rubbed off on you,”.

“Actually, it’s our playlist that’s on right now. But yeah, I’ve learned to enjoy this kinda music. Might be because of a certain someone,” he shrugs. 

“Hmm, whoever she is must have excellent taste,” you say as you turn up the volume.

“Oh trust me,” he says looking over at you, the look on his face sending shivers down your spine. “She definitely does,”. 

A short drive later, you both arrive at the party. Joe turns the car off, hops out, and jogs over to your side, helping you out of the car before you can even open the door. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tease as you reach to close the car door, but he beats you to it. 

“For you? Always,” he winks as he closes your door and loops your arm around his, leading you into the party. You blush at the contact, but why were you blushing? He’s just being friendly, right?

Before you can dive deeper into those thoughts again, you find yourself already inside the party. soft Christmas music was playing over the speakers as the room was filled with people. You could see why he didn’t want to go now, especially alone. There were a bunch of food stations around the room, holiday photo ops, Christmas games, and the whole 9 yards. It was all a little overwhelming and it looked like Christmas threw up all over the party venue. 

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper. 

“See why I didn’t wanna come here alone?” he laughs. 

“Ohh yeah,” you nod as he leads you over to your friends. 

“Joe! Y/N!,” Jess says as she gets up from the table, a huge grin on her face. 

“Hey Jess,” you chirp as you pull away from Joe’s arm to hug your friend. 

“Hi Jess,” Joe smiles. “Where’s Sam?”.

“Oh, I think he’s over by the drinks with Ja’Marr and Ted,” she says as she pulls away from the hug. 

Joe looks over at you and you already know what he is going to ask, “Go,” you laugh. “I’ll be here with Jess. Yell if you need me?”.

“You got it,” he smiles as he walks over to the guys. 

“I guess Joe strung you along with him tonight?” Jess asks as she sits back down, pulling out the chair next to her for you. 

“Yeah,” you laugh as you sit down. “He didn’t wanna go and asked if I could go with him to make it more tolerable,”.

“Sounds like Joe,” she laughs. “He really hasn’t changed since college has he? He always used to drag you along to all the parties,”. 

“Not at all,” you smile as you see him laughing with the guys. 

“So, first thoughts about the party? Since it’s your first time here,” she asks as she takes a sip of her drink. 

“Verrry Christmasy and grand. Maybe a little Overwhelming?” you sigh. 

“That sounds about right,” she laughs, looking up and smiling, prompting you to turn your head. 

Joe was walking over, a grin on his face and a drink in his hand. “I got you your favorite,” he says, placing the Peach Mojito down in front of you. 

“Thank You,” you smile up at him, squeezing his hand for a second. 

“I’m not drinking tonight so make sure you drink for me too,” he says. 

“Say less,” you say while you pick up your delicious drink. 

“You good though?” He asks.

“I’m great, go with the guys,” you say, flashing him a reassuring smile. 

“Okay. But if you need anything, just come over,” he says. 

“Same goes for you,” you say as he gives you two thumbs up before walking away. 

“Always making sure you’re good before he does anything else. Classic Joe,” Jess smiles, causing you to freeze for a second. He always did that though, right? That’s just what he does with all his friends, not just you. 

“No big deal,” you whisper to yourself. 

“Hm?” Jess asks. 

“Oh nothing, just talking to myself,” you brush off. “So wait. Did Joe go to the party last year?” you ask, changing the subject as you take a sip of your drink. That question was floating through your mind all day, and you needed to know the answer. He didn’t take you last year but he definitely went, but with who? 

“Mhm,” she nods. “He went with Stella,”.

Your heart drops when she says that name. “Ohh right, his ex,” you sigh. 

“Yup,” she nods.  

His ex-girlfriend Stella. You didn’t really know much about her since you only talked to her a couple of times. One day she was in the suite, then suddenly she wasn’t. You didn’t push Joe to tell you what happened, especially since he didn’t seem too upset about it. All he told you was that they both just didn’t work. 

“What happened between them? You know I usually don’t push him about his love life,”. 

“Oh I know,” she laughs. “I don’t really know the full story myself. All Sam told me was that Joe felt like it didn’t fit. Like it wasn’t really what he was looking for relationship-wise or person-wise,”. 

“Interesting,” you say as you sip your drink. You rarely interacted with his girlfriends. Not just because they wouldn’t stick around so why bother, but also because you felt like they didn’t really like your vibe for some reason. Maybe it was because he would always talk about you and spend time with you, but did they care that much? You were just friends anyway and you thought that was obvious.

Joe’s POV

“Sooo, you brought Y/N?” Ja’Marr teases.

“Yes… I did,” you say, taking a sip of your water. 

“Anything going on over there,” Sam teases as he pats your shoulder. 

“What? With me and Y/N?” You scoff. “Please, we would never-”.

“Now don’t lie to me Burrow,” Ja’Marr says. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t go running to her if she looked at you that way,”. 

“Ja’Marr is right,” Ted adds. “It’s kinda obvious you have a thing for her,”. 

“Are you guys drunk?” You scoff. “What’s with the sudden attack?”. 

“Nah, but you might be,” Ja’Marr says. “Wake up Man. You clearly like her. You’re always talking about her, you’re always with her and don’t forget all those times at LSU when you’d be going on about how you wished she was with you right now. Those feelings ain’t die that easily,”.

“There’s a reason that everyone thought and still thinks that she’s your girlfriend,” Sam says.

“That’s just overly invasive fans and their stupid speculation,” you deflect. 

“Mmm, not to mention, have there been any ladies on your radar since Stella? You both broke up in January which was 11 months ago. And the reason was that you didn’t think she was the right person for you,” Ted says.

“Mhm, and does the right person that you’re looking for happen to be sitting there next to my girlfriend?” Sam adds as points over at you. 

You look over at her, smiling as you see her laughing like a hyena at something Jess said. She looked angelic as the soft glow of the lights reflected off her beautiful face; her cute laugh caught your attention even though you were so far away from each other in the crowded room. 

Deep down, you knew they were right. You didn’t want to admit it, but you did have a thing for her and have had a thing for her since OSU. You never brought up those feelings to anyone, not even Y/N. You didn’t know if she felt the same way about you and you were too scared that you’d ruin your friendship if she didn’t feel the same way. 

Those feelings even stuck around at LSU. They actually got stronger since you were away from her for so long. But you once again didn’t want to screw up your bond, so you repressed those feelings as much as you could and tried to distract yourself, but distractions were only temporary. That’s also why none of your girlfriends suck around. They weren’t what you were looking for and you weren’t invested.  What you were looking for had always been by your side since Day 1, but you just didn’t know what to do about it without risking your friendship. You knew you loved her, and she knew that you loved her as a friend. But she didn’t know that you loved her a lot more than how just friends loved each other.

She was the perfect girl. Any man would be lucky to have her as his girlfriend. She was stunning, genuine, funny, fearless, the epitome of a dream girl. Her being your girlfriend was a dream, but it probably would never happen. It never happened all these years you had known each other, so why now? 

But what if she liked you back? You wouldn’t know because you never tried that door, even though you had the key in your pocket all along.

End of Joe’s POV

The party flew by quickly as you talked with the WAGs for a little, ate some yummy food, and Joe made his rounds as QB1 talking to as many people as he could before his social battery ran out. Occasionally, he’d look over at you if he got a little nervous or overwhelmed. The mere sight of you always calmed him down. And once his battery died, he found himself sitting next to you, as usual. 

Joe’s conversation with the guys still lingered in his mind as he watched you chat and drink with your friends. He didn’t know what to do about the feelings he was feeling towards you and how to handle them, so he decided to let it be and just let things flow the way they were. If something was going to happen, it would. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t. Forcing something would be the last thing he’d ever do with you. 

You were extra giggly for the past hour, definitely drunk since you were on your 4th, maybe 5th drink of the night. You weren’t really sure anymore since you and the other girls did shots at the bar earlier, so it was definitely more than 5. 

“Y/N, how many drinks have you had,” Joe asks as he looks over at you. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Numbers are funny,” you giggle as you grab his arms. “You look really pretty tonight, Joey,” you giggle as you grab another drink. “Have you thought about being a male model? I heard Calvin Klein does some pretty fun shots. The girlies would lose it. I know I would,” you giggle.  

Joe’s eyes widened as he blushed a little. You were clearly out of your mind drunk and he knew exactly what would happen when you got this wasted. You’d be all giggly, then you’d have the zoomies, and then you’d crash, hard. He couldn’t have this happen at the party in front of everyone and he knew you’d kick his ass if he let you act like this in front of them. 

“Okayyy, I think that’s enough drinks for tonight,” he says, taking your drink out of your hand.

“Noooo,” you whine as you reach for the drink. “It’s so good though,”.

“And so is weed but you don’t see me being high all the time,” he jokes as he pushes the drink further away from you. 

You raise your eyebrow at him and say, “That’s funnyyyy. Those shades are glued to your face for a reason,”. 

He stares at you for a few seconds, taking in every detail of your face. How your glossy lips were curled up into a smile, how little strands of your hair were falling onto your face, and how you were practically glowing in the soft light of the room. 

“I don’t think you’d particularly enjoy being crossfaded,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Do you have some right now? Let’s test it out,” You say as your eyes light up.

Oh hell no. How drunk were you? Joe thought to himself.  “Y/N,” he says, staring deeply into your eyes, grabbing both your hands. 

“What?” You giggle softly as you play with the wristbands on his wrist. 

“Getaway Car,” he says.

You immediately sit up in your chair and turn serious at the words that left his mouth, reminding you what those words meant and what they were used for. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”. 

“I’m fine,” he laughs as he grabs your hand that was playing with his wristbands. “But you’re not. You’re 2 seconds away from falling over,”.

“What do you mean? I’m amazingggg,” you laugh as you stand up to prove your point, almost falling over but Joe places his hands on your hips, catching you before you can. His big warm hands were firmly holding you in place as heat climbed up your body at his electric touch. 

“Yeaah, we’re going home now,” he says as he gets up from his chair, not giving you a second to protest. He grabbed your waist with one hand to make sure you didn’t fall over as you said your goodbyes and made your final lap around the room. The hand that was wrapped around your waist caused butterflies to fill your belly. His touch was so gentle and fulfilling, yet had you craving more.

He led you out to the car, his hand still gripping your waist, as you were going on about how much you loved Christmas. 

“I just love giving gifts,” you giggle as you lean your head on his shoulder. “It’s sooo fun getting to see everyone’s reactions when they open the gifts I give them. Speaking of, what do you want for Christmas Joey?”. 

“Nothing,” Joe smiles. “I already have everything I want,” he says, looking down at you. 

You pause for a few seconds as your drunken mind tries to process what he said. You didn’t see him look down at you, but you could feel his gaze on you. He wasn’t talking about you, was he? He was definitely just talking about his life and career. 

“That’s funny. I already got your birthday gift down for next Sunday, but you gotta meet me halfway for Christmas,” you say, quickly dodging those thoughts again. 

“Mmm, still don’t want anything. For either occasion in fact,” he says as you reach the car. He removes his hand from your waist to open your door and then helps you sit inside. 

“Well too bad,” you smile as he sits in the driver’s seat. “I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself,”.

“Have fun,” he says as he connects his phone to the Bluetooth; your playlist once again playing on the speakers. 

You fall back into your seat and bob your head along to the music as Joe pulls the car out of the parking spot, and leaves the party venue. A few minutes later, you’ve made it onto the highway. Your head is leaning against the comfy headrest as you look over at Joe. His tan skin was shining in the moonlight and his pink lips were curled up into a smile. You move your head to look out the window, taking in the gorgeous view of the Cinncinati Skyline, and then notice that Joe drove past the exit that you would take to get downtown to your apartment.

“Joe, you missed the exit,” you say as you flip your head back over to him.

“I know,” he laughs. 

“Uhhh, well are you gonna go a different way or?” you mumble.

“Nah, you’re way too drunk to be left alone tonight. We’re going back to my place,” he says.

“Joe, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine on my own and I don’t wanna intrude,” you say, sitting up in your seat.

“Intrude on what? It’s just me in that big-ass house,” he laughs. “Having some company won’t hurt,”.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Positive. I know how you get when you’re this drunk and I would be a terrible friend to make you deal with that alone,” he laughs. 

“Yeahh,” you trail off. “You’re such a great..friend,”. It pained you a little to say “friend” and you weren’t entirely sure why. It also pained Joe a little to hear you say “friend”. If only you would put “boy” in front of it, he thought to himself. 

“So it’s settled then. You’re getting the Burrow treatment tonight,” he winks, looking over at you, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. 

“Uhhh, are we still talking about hangover care or?” you joke, breaking out into a fit of laughter. 

“Dirty, Dirty Mind,” he chuckles as he shakes his head. 

You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window again, watching the cars pass by one by one you let out a content sigh and got comfy in the car seat again. But then, the song on the aux changed, immediately catching your attention and causing you to flip your head back to him. 

Joe’s eyes light up as he hears the soft music playing in the background, recognizing the song instantly and raising the volume. 

“Ohh yeah,” you say, moving up in your seat and swaying your shoulders as you recite the song lyrics. 

“Because I'm eighteen, And I still live with my parents. Yeah, they're not like yours,” you belt out as you close your eyes and dance in your seat. 

“Well, yours are more understanding. I've never fell in love, I've saved those feelings for you,” Joe sings, looking right over at you as he sings that last bit. He watches you cutely dance around in your seat, his heart softening as he takes in the moment. Something about you sitting in his car seat, after a late night, on the way back to his house, made him feel all giddy inside. 

“So let's do all the stupid shit that young kids do. It's me and you, youuu,” you sing as you open your eyes and point at Joe, who looks a little..lovestruck?

Lovestruck? Please, as if he would ever feel that about you out of all people, you thought to yourself. The alcohol in your system was really messing with your mind right now. 

About 20 minutes later, Joe pulled into the driveway of his house, which was massive. He definitely had upgraded from his last house, just as he had hoped to and just as you said he would do. It was just him in this big house, all alone. He would often get bored since he didn’t have anyone around to keep him company, so he was more than ecstatic to have you over for the night.  

After parking in the garage, he helps you inside the house. He walks you over to the kitchen island, pulling out a barstool with his leg, and motioning for you to sit down.

“First order of business, Water and Advil,” he says as he grabs a water bottle from the fridge, then moves to open the drawer to grab the bottle of Advil. He pulls out two tablets and hands them to you along with the water. 

“Thank you,” you say after you wash down the medicine with the water. 

“Second order of business, getting you something comfy to wear,” he says, grabbing your hand and yanking you off the stool. His warm hand molded perfectly against yours as he led you up the stairs to his bedroom. 

“But I don’t have any clothes here,” you mumbled as he pulled you into his room, still holding your hand. 

“That’s okay, you can just wear one of my big shirts,” he says as drops your hand and walks into his closet, returning to the room after a few moments with a purple LSU shirt in hand. “Is this good?” he asks.

“Perfect,” you whisper as you take the shirt from his hand. “Be right back,” you smile as you walk into his bathroom. 

You peel off your clothes from tonight, placing them into a neat pile on the vanity as you slip on his shirt. It was massive on you, no surprise there though. You smiled as you read the text on the shirt; it was his championship t-shirt from when he won the Natty. You scrunched up the fabric, bringing it to your nose, taking a deep breath, and remembering that amazing night.

Flashback to 2020 – New Orleans, Louisiana 

You looked over at the scoreboard, the score reading 42-25 just as the clock was winding down with only a few minutes left in the 4th quarter. 

“He did it, he really fucking did it,” you whispered as tears started to fall from your eyes, your friends all jumping up and down around you and screaming at the top of their lungs. 

“3..2..1,” Lydia screamed as purple and yellow confetti filled the stadium. The LSU tigers had just won the national championship, Joe had just won the national championship. After years of hard work and dedication, never backing down from a challenge, his dreams had finally come true, and you got to be apart of it and witness it. 

After watching the trophy presentation and the celebrations on the field from the stands, you made your way down to the field, hoping to get a moment with Joe before he was pulled in for media. 

You made your way through the crowds of reporters, players, and families in search of him, but you literally could not figure out where he was. 

“Did he already get pulled in for media?” you asked yourself as you looked around the field, your smile dropping. 

Suddenly, you felt two arms snake around your waist and pull you back into a warm embrace. “What the F-”.

“Calm down, Y/N, it’s just me,” he says, swaying you back and forth. You could recognize that voice anywhere, even in the loudest settings. You place your hands on his and turn your head up, meeting his baby-blue eyes. 

“Joe,” you whisper, feeling tears fill your eyes again. 

“Hi,” he mumbled before you flipped around in his arms and looped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. 

“You did it,” you said, crying into his shoulder. “I’m s- so proud of you,”.

“Hey, Hey, why are you crying?” he asked, rubbing circles on your back for comfort. 

You pulled your face out from his shoulder and said, “Because, you’re a national champion now, Silly. This is what you’ve been working for and it finally happened. I’ve been fortunate enough to be by your side through the whole thing and can’t help but get emotional when my best friend just had his dream come true,”. 

He stays silent for a few moments before he pushes your head back into his chest. “Thank you. For everything,” he says, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He remembered how you had been nothing but supportive of his dreams since you met. There were days back at OSU when he would come back to his dorm after practice, feeling shitty and lost since nothing felt like it was going his way, and you would drop whatever you were doing at the moment to go and comfort him since he didn’t want to be alone. Those many late nights you spent trying to help him study and catch up on his work so that he could focus on football during the day. And nothing would ever come close to how you refused to miss a single one of his games, even if you were watching back in Ohio. He remembers you telling him that at your friend's bachelorette party, you had the game pulled up on your phone and sat at the bar the entire night watching instead of doing shots and dancing with your friends. 

The day he decided that he was going to LSU was hard for both of you. He could tell how you were holding back from telling him how you really felt, which was incredibly sad and upset, but you knew he had to do this for himself, and he watched as you plastered a smile on your face and cheered him on, even if it broke your heart. 

“You are the most strongest, dedicated, and talented person I know. I am so proud of youuu,” you squeal into his chest. 

Joe felt fireworks in his heart as he listened to you go on and on about how well he did in the game. Those feelings he had for you were so hard to avoid, and right now he felt like ripping the bandaid off and telling you how he felt straight up. But he couldn’t. He wanted nothing more than to kiss your soft lips right now and tell you that he loved you more than anything in the world, but he just couldn’t. Instead, he just enjoyed the feeling of you with him right now during one of the happiest moments in his life. There was no need to ruin it with his pipe dream.   

End of flashback 

You spent a few moments fixing your hair and washing your makeup off before turning off the lights and joining him back outside, but you stopped as you realized something. 

“Fuck, I don’t have shorts on,” you realize. You were just in his shirt, your white lace panties, and your socks, and didn’t know what to do. The shirt was big enough to cover your upper thighs and if you avoided any movement that caused the shirt to ride up, you would be fine.

“He won’t care regardless,” you whisper as you shake your head and leave the bathroom. 

While you were changing, Joe had changed into a pair of sweat shorts and a short-sleeved tee and was sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Aren’t you cold? It’s December,” you giggle as you join him in the room again.

He looks up from his phone, heat rising up his cheeks as he takes in the sight of your bare legs and your body which was clothed by one of his shirts. Your cheeks were a little rosy, definitely an effect of all the alcohol you consumed. A feeling of nervousness now filled his body as he watched you put your stuff down on his table, the way your hips swayed from side to side, and how your hair bounced with each step. He realized that he hadn’t given you any shorts or boxers, so you were definitely just in your underwear right now, and that made him want to pass out. Why did he feel like a teenage boy all of a sudden? He had seen you in pajamas many times so why was he feeling like this? Whatever it was, it definitely was not helping the thoughts he had about your relationship earlier in the night because here you were, standing in his room, looking absolutely incredible. 

“You tell me,” he says as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Fair point,” you laugh as you walk over to his bookshelf, a photo frame catching your eye. He carefully watches you as you walk over to the picture, his heart feeling like it is about to beat out of his chest as he realizes what you are looking at. 

It was a photo of the two of you from one of his games at LSU. He was looking down at you, a huge grin on his face as if he was laughing at something you said. You were looking back up at him, smiling at his expression. You both were almost lost in each other’s eyes in this photo, something you hadn’t noticed before. This was Joe’s favorite photo of the two of you and he had managed to keep it to himself, up until now. 

Flashback to 2019 - LSU

You had flown into Baton Rouge early this morning and were going to surprise Joe at his game tonight since he had no idea you were coming. He had been begging you for weeks to come down for a weekend to see him because he missed you, but you kept pushing it off with lazy excuses so you could pull one on him. But little did he know, you had been planning a trip to see him for the past month. 

He caught a glimpse of you in the stands earlier, his entire face lighting up and his heart soaring. He thought he was dreaming for a second as he saw you sitting with his mom, wearing his number, and screaming his name, You waved over at him before the game started, but didn’t get a chance to talk to him as he was pulled into pregame warmups. Now, you were waiting in the tunnel as the game finished, eagerly waiting to see your best friend. 

You were chatting with Joe’s Mom as you waited for him to come out from the locker room. A few minutes later, you heard an all too familiar voice behind you. 

“You fucking liar,” he laughs.

You spin around, your heart skipping a beat as you see Joe standing in front of you. 

You walk over to him, launching yourself into his open arms and letting out a squeal as he tightly wraps them around your waist, slightly lifting you off the ground and swaying you from side to side. “I mm- missed you,” you sputtered, trying to hold back your emotions.

“And you said you were too busy with Jake’s cousin's wedding this weekend,” he says, his hand rubbing your lower back.

“Please, as if I would go to the wedding of my ex’s cousin rather than flying down to see my best friend who I haven’t seen in 5 months,” you say as he lets go of you, slowly sliding you back down to the floor. 

“Ex?” He asked.

“Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you over the phone. We broke up,” you say as you meet his eyes. 

“Really?” He asks, trying hard not to smile. He felt bad that you and Jake broke up, but part of him felt a little happy that there wasn’t any other guy in your life taking his space at the moment. Jake got to do everything Joe would do with you but couldn’t because he was away. The movie marathons, game nights, trying new restaurants, arcade runs, shopping, building legos, literally everything, he got to do, and it made Joe a little jealous. 

He never really got too involved in your dating life. He felt like it was uncharted territory since he was your best friend and a guy. It would be a little weird if he was getting involved. He also didn’t want to give the guys the wrong idea about your friendship. Although, he did have moments where he wished that it was a little more than just a friendship.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Just didn’t feel right. He didn’t seem invested in the relationship lately anyway,”.

“Mr. Lovebombing not being invested? Shocker,” he teases. You felt your smile drop a little bit at his teasing. Yes, you were over him, but it still stung a little bit since you were pretty unlucky in the boyfriend department and this was just another addition.

He immediately felt bad for saying that, knowing how you felt about relationships, so he pulled you into a side hug. “Sorry, that was jerky,” he mumbles. 

“It’s okay,” you say as you pat his chest. “I should’ve seen it coming,”.

“Well if it makes you feel better, I never liked him anyway, he laughs. 

“Joe,” you say as you playfully swat his arm while pulling away from the hug. 

“Hey, can you blame me? He doesn’t like ‘The Office’. That’s a crime,” he deadpans. 

“I missed you so much,” you laughed, staring deeply into his eyes. God you missed him. You missed his cheery attitude, his million-dollar smile, and the comfort you’d feel when you were with him. Joe could turn your mood around in an instant and make you forget about everything bad in your life. No other guy could ever make you feel the way he did, it was an irreplicable feeling. 

“Me too,” he sighed. “5 months is way too long and you’re so far away,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet.

“I know but hey, I’m here now. And even if it’s for a few days, I’m here,” you say, gently rubbing his bicep.

He looks back up at you with a smile, “Yeah, you are,”. He looked into your chocolaty eyes, searching them for a few moments, hoping to find something in them that he’d been waiting for, but he was interrupted by your laughter. 

“They might have to force me onto the plane back to Ohio. I’ve been here for a day and I don’t want to go back,” you giggle. 

“I can sneak you into my apartment,” he shrugs. “Just act like you’re on the football team and you’re golden,” he jokes. 

While you two were talking, Joe’s mom snapped a few photos of your reunion, neither of you noticing the camera snaps.

“Oh yeahh. I’ll totally fit right in,” you say, shaking your head. “I can be your new star Wide Receiver,”.

“Ja’Marr and Justin might have a problem with that,” he shrugged. 

“They won’t when they see how great of a duo we make, on the field and off,” you wink. 

 End of flashback 

“I haven’t seen this one,” you smile as you look back at him. “Gatekeeping, Burrow?”.

“It’s one of my faves so yes, yes I am gatekeeping,” he shrugs. 

“Well, I’m stealing it,” you say, picking up the frame. 

“Uhh, no you’re not,” he says, slowly standing up from the bed. 

“Ohh yes, I am,” you tease as you turn around to meet his eyes. He walks over to you as you slowly walk backward, moving away from him. 

“Okayyy, I think it’s time for bed,” he says as he reaches out to grab you, but you take another leap back towards the door. 

“Nopeee,” you smirk. “Catch me if you can,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him before running out the door. 

“We are not about to do this,” Joe mumbles as he runs out the door, following you as you run through the halls of his house. Giggles and Laughter echo throughout the house as you run down the stairs, looking back a couple of times to see if he is still there, and he is. Even though he was exhausted, he was enjoying chasing you throughout the halls of his house. The usually quiet halls were now filled with your shrieks and giggles, a sound that he loved to hear. You run over to the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as Joe runs to the couch to grab a pillow. 

“Joe!” you scream as he grabs a couch pillow, launching it straight at your head but you quickly duck. 

“You asked for it,” he laughed. 

“Oh, it’s on,” you grin as you place the photo on the island, making sure it didn’t get caught in the battle. 

“Whatcha gonna do?” he smirks as he places his hands on his hips, bouncing from side to side.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say as you slowly walk over to the comfy chair next to the dining table, grabbing a stray couch pillow and hiding it behind your back. 

He notices you hiding a pillow behind your back, so he leans down and grabs another one. While he was doing this, you ran over and started hitting him, gently of course, with the soft pillow. 

“Got youu,” you giggle as you smack him with a pillow repeatedly. 

“Nope,” he smirks as he grabs his pillow and swings at your abdomen. His strength was unmatched so the hit sent you back a little, almost causing you to fall over.

“Oh, now you’re done for,” you grin as you attack him with the soft pillow and he does the same to you. Giggles and squeals filled the room as you playfully battled it out, neither of you willing to give up. But soon, the teasing turned into a full-blown pillow fight as you both unleashed your inner children, swinging your pillows with wild abandon. Feathers flew everywhere, coating the floor in a soft, white blanket. A couple of swings later, you catch Joe off guard, tackling him to the ground as you place your legs on each side of his hips, caging him in on the floor. 

You hold your pillow above your head in mock triumph. He wriggled beneath you, trying to grab the pillow away, but you held it just out of reach, teasing and taunting him.

“I winnn,” you laugh as you look down, smiling at Joe's disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. You were so caught up in the childish moment that you didn’t even realize you were straddling his hips right now, and his hands were resting firmly on your hips. Your shirt had ridden up your thighs a little and you were definitely showing a little too much down there, but you were so caught up in the moment that you couldn’t care less.

“Zoomies?” Joe giggles as he looks into your eyes. 

“Zoomies,” you nod as you throw the pillow to the side, trying to catch your breath. A million thoughts were now rushing into your head at once. You were literally on top of him right now, but he didn’t even seem bothered by it. It was like he was enjoying it. Was he enjoying it? You move your hand down, placing each one on his biceps and digging your nails into his soft skin. 

Joe was trying so hard not to say something about how you were on top of him right now. He was just enjoying the sight of you above, as silly and sultry as that sounded. He looked down and noticed your bare thighs and the shirt riding up and you seemingly weren’t wearing anything under it other than your underwear, just like he had thought. God, you just looked so pretty and sexy, he thought to himself. Your hair was messy and your cheeks were blush pink, but you still looked gorgeous. You seemed so relaxed and comfortable, and he was trying so hard not to ruin the moment by saying something stupid. 

“You look so pretty,” he thought out loud, his face turning red as he realized he said that to you.

“Thank you,” you smile back, internally screaming at his comment. Was he being extra affectionate tonight, or were you just delusional? You definitely looked like a mess right now, and in no way did you look pretty, but his compliment still made your heart soar. A soft yawn left your lips as you rubbed your eyes, now feeling the ‘crash’ part of your hangover. 

“Crash time?” he asks as he rubs your thighs, your stomach fluttering at the contact. Why was he being so lovey-dovey right now? His soft hands massaged the plush skin of your thighs as you stared deeply into his baby blues, trying to make sense of what was going on. 

“Yeah,” you say as another yawn escapes your lips. You get off of him, slowly standing up as you are feeling the aftermath of the zoomies. Joe holds out his hands just in case you fall over as he gets up. 

“You can sleep in my bed and I can take the couch. The guest bedroom is kinda a mess right now since I’m using it for storage until they finish the basement,” he says.

“Hell no. I don’t wanna kick you out of your own bed,” you say as you pick up the pillows from the floor and put them back on the couch, your legs a little wobbly and your head feeling a little woozy. “I’ll take the couch,”.

“No way. You take the bed,” he says as he picks up the stray feathers from the floor. 

“Not happening, Joseph,” you mumble as you help him gather the feathers.

He heaves out a sigh, “I’m too tired to fight you on this. Why don’t we just share it?”. 

Your heart skips a beat as you look up at him, the look on his face telling you he is 100% serious. Although you and Joe had been friends for years, you had never slept in the same bed together. 

“As long as you’re not a kicker,” he jokes.

“Please, I sleep like a baby,” you say as you walk over to the trash can, throwing the feathers into the bin. “Besides, I’m more of a cuddler and not a kicker,”. 

“So that’s a yes?” He asks, trying not to sound too eager, especially at the mention of cuddling. 

“Fineee,” you smile. “If you insist,”.  

Internally, Joe was screaming. He told himself that he’d let things flow the way they were and let things happen naturally, that’s if something were to happen. He didn’t know if he was just reading into things a little too much, but was it just him or were you acting a little different around him?

Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. There was no reason for you to get so worked up over sharing a bed with Joe. It was nothing, just you sleeping right next to him, together under the covers, so incredibly close to his body. It was definitely nothing. 

A little later, you're getting ready for bed as Joe brings out an extra pillow for you. You walk over to the bed, open the soft covers, and slide in. His bed was so comfortable; so soft and like a cloud. He turns off the lights and plugs in his phone before joining you in bed. Your heart was beating so fast as he moved into the bed next to you. There was no reason for this to be weird, but you were making it weird. 

You moved back against the pillow, sliding down the bed, and pulling the covers up to protect you from the chilly room and to hide your nervousness. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” You asked Joe as you stared up at the ceiling. 

“Actually? I did. All thanks to you,” he said. 

“Really?” You giggled, moving your head to look at him. You could barely make out his face in the darkness, but you could tell he was looking at you. 

“Yup. You make everything more enjoyable and bearable for me,” he said, turning his head back over and staring up at the ceiling. “Did you have fun? I hope these football things aren’t getting too repetitive for you,”.

“Not at all repetitive. You know I love doing this stuff with you. I needed a break from life and this was just the thing. Thanks for bringing me with you,” you smiled.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You know I’m always here when you need something, even if it’s an escape from life for a day,” he says as he moves his hand down to yours, entwining your fingers together as he gives your hand a soft squeeze. Butterflies filled your stomach at his soft touch and meaningful words. 

“Besides, I enjoy having you as my permanent plus 1,” he laughs. 

“Permanent?” You ask, feeling the heat rise up your body again. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not having much luck in the girlfriend department,”. 

“Not saying you’re filling in those shoes and are a filler,” he says, quickly trying to soften his words because of how jerky it sounded. “I just like having you with me all the time, Ya know? That’s prob why people think you’re my girlfriend”.

“It’s okay, Joe. I know what you mean,” you say, adding a fake laugh into the mix. Your stomach did a somersault when he said that. Were you really about to have this conversation about that topic right now? 

“But please, I could name at least 100 girls who would be standing at your doorstep in an instant,” you giggle. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want any of those girls,” he says, craning his head over to face you, his hand still holding yours, now tighter. 

“I want someone who matches my vibe. Someone who makes me feel normal and doesn’t constantly remind me that I’m a millionaire quarterback. Someone that I can take home to my parents and can feel comfortable around. Someone who can enjoy the simplicity of playing Smash-Bros and building Legos as a date. Someone that appreciates the real me and not the superficial flashy shit,” he says. As he was saying all of this, the girl he pictured in his mind was you. He was describing you. You were what he wanted. 

“You didn’t find that with Stella?” You asked, completely oblivious to what he was implying.

“Nah. She was great at first but as time went on I realized that she was more into the lifestyle of dating a football player than the actual relationship part. And I also didn’t feel fireworks with her,” he said.

“Ah yes. Fireworks. Just like your Mom told us,” you remembered. His mom had told you at dinner a few years ago that when she met his dad, she felt fireworks. Fireworks are what you feel when you meet the right person, according to Robin. You hadn’t felt fireworks with any other guy other than Joe, but you never told that to anyone. And he felt the same. He felt fireworks every time he was with you and he’d never felt that with any girl. 

“Yeah so I’ll probably die alone, he jokes.

“Please, we’ll die alone together,” you say as you take your hand out of hold and playfully shove his shoulder.

“I’m assuming there’s no guys on your radar?” He wonders, hoping you would say no.

“Nope. There hasn’t been any since Noah,” you replied.

“That was 8 months ago,” Joe gasped.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” you laughed. “You know I’ve never had luck with guys. None of them match my vibe and want something else out of the relationship that I don’t agree with. I want someone real, genuine, and serious,”. 

“I could name 100 guys that would be at your doorstep in an instant,” he says, echoing your words from earlier.

“Doesn’t mean I want any of them,” you say, echoing his words. 

“Fair point,” he laughs. 

“Yeah. So I’ll die alone too,” you joke.

“Technically not alone if we die alone together. We’ll have each other,” he said. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you yawned, feeling another wave of tiredness

“Sleepy time?” Joe chuckles. 

“Mhmmm,” you groan as you stretch out your arms. “Don't ever let me drink that much again,” you mumble as you pull the covers higher. 

“You got it. Goodnight, Y/N,” he smiles as he turns his head over to you. 

“Night, Joey,” you smile before turning over and letting out a deep breath. 

20 minutes passed by and you were still wide awake, not finding comfort in his bed which was odd considering it was like a cloud. Your thoughts about you and Joe were also keeping you from sleeping. Ever since your sister mentioned that you were acting like Joe’s girlfriend yesterday, your head was spiraling and the alcohol from tonight was making it worse. And the conversation you just had with him was making it even more confusing. Sure, you did some girlfriend-type things, but you knew he would never look at you that way. He saw you as a friend and that’s all, at least that’s what you thought. 

Suddenly, you felt Joe’s hand creep around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your heart stopped and your body froze from the sudden movement. What the actual fuck was going on. 

“Joe?” You mumbled, not meeting his eyes because you were literally about to scream.

“Hm?” He mumbled, half asleep. 

“Your arm,” you whispered.

“I’m cold,” he muttered as he held you tighter. “And you’re so warm and comfy,”. 

Your heartbeat picked up again as you felt his big hand sprawled out against your belly, not to mention that your ass was literally on his crotch right now. His body, although saying he felt cold, was hot. So very hot. 

“Is this weird?” he mumbles, opening his eyes. He really hoped that this didn’t weird you out.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say or do. You didn’t feel weird oddly enough as that sounded. Something about this felt natural and so right. 

“It’s okay,” you softly spoke. “I’m good,”. 

Joe smiled at your response, feeling like he was flying through the clouds right now as he was practically cuddling with his favorite person. Everything about this just felt so right, and he wasn’t the only one who thought so. 

“Good, you said you were a cuddler so I hope this is comfy,” he mumbled. 

You felt your heart exploding as he moved closer to you. His arm around you felt like a safety blanket, protecting you from everything on the outside. A comfortable embrace that you wished you had around you forever. It felt right.

“Trust me, it’s perfect,” you whisper, closing your eyes and losing yourself in his embrace, too tired from the night to fight back. 

A few moments later, you were fast asleep, finally feeling comfortable and it was all because of him. 

The next morning 

Your eyes slowly flutter open as the golden light shines through the windows. You reach out to grab your phone, the time reading 7:35 AM. You felt your head slowly start to throb, a sure result of your hangover from last night. You were just about to get up but you felt a heavy force holding you down. 

“What the-” you whisper as you look down, noticing Joe’s hand is still wrapped around your stomach. You had forgotten that you were at his house and in his bed, and he was still wrapped around you. 

“Uh oh,” you whisper. You turned your head around and saw Joe sound asleep, looking so adorable as his hair was sprawled out against the pillow and soft snores coming from his mouth. You remember that he brought you here after the party last night, which meant you had no way of getting back home. You didn’t want to wake him up because first, he looked so comfortable right now, and second, you didn’t know how to talk to him after what happened last night. Those thoughts you had about your relationship with Joe only got stronger after the night you had. Although nothing like that happened, your feelings for him surely got more complicated. 

“Don’t leave me,” you heard Joe mumble in his sleep. 

Your eyes widened at his soft words, was he talking about you? You turned your head around to see if he was awake, but he was still sound asleep and snoring again. He must’ve been sleeptalking, you thought to yourself. 

You pulled out your phone again, opening up your messages to beg your friend Lydia to come pick you up. She usually got up early on Saturdays for Pilates so she should respond.

You: emergency! please come pick me up 

Lydia: good morning to you too lol. everything alright? 

You: everything’s fine I just uhh need a ride home

Lydia: home? where are you?? 

You: joe’s house 

Lydia: oh 👀 

You sighed at your friend's text. Now was not the time to have this conversation and you knew exactly what she was going to say. You and Lydia had known each other since Ohio State so she pretty much knew everything about you and Joe’s friendship since you were all a part of the same friend group. She was a huge advocate for you and Joe to be a couple back at OSU, but you always shut her down before she could get too matchmaker-ish. She claimed that she saw something “special” between you two, but your ignorant ass brushed it off over and over, just like how you were doing now. 

You: just pls come pick me up

Lydia: on my way ;) be there in 10

You let out a relieved sigh as you carefully peeled Joe’s hand off from your waist, quickly replacing it with a pillow so he wouldn’t feel the difference, and thankfully he didn’t. You walked into the bathroom, grabbed your clothes from last night, and quickly exited his room. You glanced back at him for a few seconds, taking note of the smile on his adorable face and his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow that he thought was your waist. 

“Man,” you whispered to yourself as you turned back around and made your way down the stairs. 

You waited by the door for Lydia as your mind was exploding with thoughts now that you were sober enough to process everything. What the hell happened last night? Was Joe just being the usual Joe because something felt different about his mannerisms, words, and attitude toward you the entire night? And even this morning, his arm was still around your waist and seemingly wasn’t planning on moving it. 

You heard a car pull up and peeked out the window, seeing that it was your bestie. “Thank fuck,” you sighed as you had to escape the scene. You don’t know what you would’ve said to him once he had woken up. Especially since you were 100% in your senses now. 

You quickly opened the door, softly shutting it on your way out. You ran over to her car and hopped inside without a second thought. 

“Damn, you’re in a rush,” she laughs as she locks the door after you shut it. 

“No rush. Just uhh, need to get home,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.

“Whatever you say,” Lydia giggles as she puts the car in drive. “So how was it?” She asks. 

“How was what?” You say, raising your eyebrows.

“The sex, dummy,” she laughs.

“What?” You shriek as your eyes widen.

“Don't play dumb with me, Y/N. Is he as good in bed as he is on the field?”. 

You stare at her for a few quiet seconds before breaking out into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh my god,” you laugh as you lean forward. 

“Took you long enough. I’ve been saying this would happen for yeaaaars,” she boasts. “Why else would you need me to come to pick you up from Joe’s house at 8 am while you’re wearing what definitely is his t-shirt and I assume no shorts and just panties underneath?” She adds. 

“You’ve got it all wrong,” you wheeze. “I was super drunk last night from the Christmas party and he just brought me to his place,”. 

“Ahh, so drunken sex? Even better,” she teases as she winks at you.

“Lydia, we didn’t hook up,” you say, your laughter dying down. “He just gave me his shirt so I wouldn’t have to sleep in my outfit from the party,”. 

“Okayyy sure, but that still doesn’t explain why you ran out of his house so early in the morning and why he couldn’t take you home,” she said. 

“That’s a long story,” you say, taking a deep breath and falling back into your seat.

“We’ve got time,” she laughs.

“I don’t really know,” you breathe out, staring up at the ceiling of the car. “My sister mentioned the other day that I’m acting like Joe’s girlfriend and it just got me thinking,” you sigh. 

“Oh?” She says, a smile forming on her face.

“And last night was weird. I feel like he was being extra affectionate but I don’t know if that was just the alcohol in my system messing with me. And he was talking to me about how he hadn’t found the right girl yet, how he brings me everywhere and that’s why people think we’re dating, and how I’m his ‘permanent plus 1’ because he likes having me around,”. 

“Ohhhhh?” Lydia drags out, her face scrunching up as she tries to hold back from saying something about it.

“Don’t get too excited. I already knew that the general public thought that we were together, but I thought we were over that,”. 

“You won’t be able to get over that until you admit the truth. And the truth is that you like him. Like more than just a friend,” Lydia blurts out. “I see it, the public sees it, and I honestly think Joe sees it too,”. 

You stay silent for a few seconds, a little taken aback by her observation and not knowing how to respond to her since you can barely make sense of your feelings.

“Oh my god? You like him don’t you?!” She yells as she looks over at you.  

“I don’t knowwww,” you said. “There’s a lot of thoughts in my head right now and I don’t know what to think. I feel like he’s been acting differently around me, like more lovey-dovey differently but I don’t know if I’m reading into it too much,” you respond. 

“Okay, well what are the thoughts in your head saying?”.

“That I think I like him? Or still like him I guess. But I don’t know if he feels the same and I don’t wanna say anything because if he doesn’t, it’ll fuck up our friendship and I can’t lose him,” you say. 

“He’s so sweet and perfect. Joe knows me better than anyone and knows exactly how to cheer me up, calm me down, and make me have fun. I’ve never met anyone like him before and being by his side since day 1 has been a dream but also crazy. And the fact that he hasn't changed since we met is even more crazy. Even with all the money, fame, and attention, he's still Joe. My Joe," you smile. “The same adorable, nerdy, football player that was my lab partner in chemistry freshman year,”.

“Girl, you definitely love him,” your friend says, looking over at you with a straight face.

“Love?” You ask, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Yes, love. You’ve known each other since freshman year of college and if I’m not mistaken, those feelings have been there since then. You’re doing the same thing you did back then, letting your overthinking get in the way. You’re too afraid of losing him as a friend, but Y/N, what if he has the same feelings as you? This isn’t a matter of liking a boy, it’s a matter of you being in love with someone who you’ve had feelings for since you both met. That’s years and years of unanswered feelings that were being built up inside of you and spilling out right now,”. 

Were you in love with Joe? Have you been in love with him all this time? You find yourself smiling as you imagine you and Joe as a couple. Waking up to his adorable smile and sexy morning voice every day, going on cute little dates with him every week around town, kissing him good luck before every game, getting to curl up on the couch with him after every game, and talking about anything and everything together for hours on end without any limitations. It all sounded like a dream, a dream you wished was reality. 

Lydia looked over at your face, seeing you with a huge grin on your face and a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“I knew it. You love him,” she says as she playfully shoves your shoulder. "There is a reason why none of your relationships work out. The person who you've been waiting for has been right in front of you this entire time,".

“Again, I don’t know,” you giggle. “I don’t wanna say anything to him because I don’t know if he feels the same way,”.

“I get that, I do. You don’t want to risk your friendship, but here’s my advice. Go with the flow. If something’s going to happen, it will. If nothing’s gonna happen, it won’t. Let things unfold naturally and if he’s there and waiting for you at the door, open it and never let him leave,” she says. “And I have a feeling that he’s gonna be at the door,” she adds. 

You spent a few seconds thinking about her advice. She was right, if you weren’t overthinking it and he really did feel the same way about you, he would be there. And if you were overthinking it, and he didn’t feel the same, you would accept it, bury those feelings for real this time, and keep the ball rolling.

You just had to wait and see.

To be continued! 

part 2

[azzibuckets]

national what day [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: a very random and unedited little blurb i wrote for national girlfriend day yesterday

word count: 1k

masterlist

“You think I’d forget?”

Emerging from the bathroom, Azzi freezes midway through brushing her teeth, not expecting to see a huge inflatable Olaf, probably as tall as her, sitting on her bed. Even wilder is Paige standing next to the Olaf with a proud grin on her face, one hand holding a gift bag from Tiffany’s and the other holding a huge sign that said “Olaf you!”

Azzi licks toothpaste from the corner of her lip. “What’s this for?”

Paige’s face drops, the corner of her lips turning downwards as a pout starts to form. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Azzi gurgles at the sink before spitting out her toothpaste. Wiping her damp hands dry on her sleep shirt, she returns and eyes Paige curiously. “This is super cute, babe, I love it. But am I missing something?”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow even further, her mouth agape. “You don’t know what today is?”

Azzi looks innocently around, as if an idea would conjure up in the air in front of her. “The first of the month?”

Paige’s mouth pulls into a even tighter line. She slumps on the bed beside the Olaf, throwing her arms around its stomach and burrowing her head into the plastic nylon material. “Maybe you can be my new girlfriend,” she grunts, her voice muffled.

Azzi nudged Paige in the back. “What’s going on?”

The blonde peeks up, one eye glaring at her girlfriend and the other covered by blonde hair falling across her face. “Did you honestly forget it’s national girlfriend day?”

Azzi, having busied herself with her bedtime routine, starts to rub lotion onto her face. “Is that a thing?”

“Of course it’s a thing!” Paige whines. “How do you not know it exists?”

“I’m not chronically online,” Azzi says slyly, smirking at Paige in the mirror.

“Babe.” Paige is behind Azzi now, hands splaying across her waist and pulling her in. She brushes a kiss across the nape of Azzi’s neck, fingers smoothing out the curly baby hairs at her hairline. “Did you really not know?”

The dejected look on Paige’s face forces Azzi out of her act. Bursting out laughing, Azzi turns in Paige’s room and presses a light kiss to her nose. “You’re so gullible it’s cute.”

“I’m cute?” Paige is smirking now, completely ignoring the first half of the sentence as her eyes glaze over with wonder.

Azzi pushes Paige in the forehead with her palm. “And you’re so in love with me you’re deaf.” Shaken out of her trance, Paige follows Azzi to the bathroom.

“That’s fucked up,” Paige groans. “Why’d you do me like that earlier?”

“You were gone the entire day and you said you’d be home by 7. It’s 10 and you just got back.” Azzi has a half smile on her face, but Paige sees right through it. She hates the thought of her ever disappointing her girlfriend, so she swallows down her pride.

“I’m really sorry, I was at Tiffany’s getting your necklace I ordered ahead but then it took a while and-,”

“Paige, it’s okay,” Azzi interrupts, reaching out to brush off a piece of lint from Paige’s shoulder. Her hand rests there and she squeezes. “I’m not mad at you, I swear. I just wish you would’ve texted me so I could’ve prepared better.”

“Prepared?”

“I made us dinner.” Azzi glances shyly away. “Spaghetti, steak, all your favorites. It’s in the fridge now, but it’s fine. We can eat it later, like meal prep.”

“Azzi.” There’s hurt and regret and guilt packed in only one word, and Paige’s eyes are wet when she clamps her hand over Azzi’s. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I should’ve texted. I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise.” Paige cups Azzi’s face in hers, beginning to pepper her face with kisses. “Tomorrow, just me and you. I’m gonna take you out, okay? It’s gonna be the best day of your life.”

Laughing, Azzi shakes her head. “Don’t feel bad, Paige, I told you it’s fine.”

“You’re too fucking good of a person,” Paige says, all serious now. “I messed up and should take responsibility for it.”

“I don’t know, your huge ass Olaf makes it easy to forgive you.” Azzi glances over Paige’s shoulder, eyes softening once she realizes that a necklace of polaroids is draped across its neck. “Is that us?”

Paige follows Azzi’s glance. “It is. But come on.” Dragging Azzi’s hand along, she leads them downstairs to the kitchen before they’re both staring at the fridge.

“Paige, it’s 10 PM.”

“You made us dinner. We gotta eat it.” Paige opens the fridge and immediately starts stacking the counter with the Tupperware containers marked with “P&A”.

“You missed the vegetables,” Azzi says pointedly when Paige starts to close the fridge.

“No, I didn’t,” Paige says breezily before shutting the door.

“Where are we going?” Azzi questions as Paige picks up the containers before hurrying out the front door.

“Somewhere more private.” Juggling all the containers on one hand, Paige opens the door to the back seat with the other and ushers Azzi inside.

“Sitting in a cold and dark car eating cold leftovers. Best national girlfriend’s day ever,” Azzi says sarcastically as she scoots in.

“Shut up.” Paige flicks Azzi in the cheek. “I wanna cuddle while we eat.”

“We couldn’t do this in our room?”

“You know your mom hates when we eat in the bedroom.”

Azzi shrugs, adjusting their bodies so that she’s lying in Paige’s arms as they sprawl across the three seats.

“This is what I used to dream of.”

“Huh?” Azzi looks up as she pops a piece of cold steak into her mouth.

“Calling you my girlfriend. Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to be with you and I have to slap myself. I used to think about scenarios like this every fucking night before I went to sleep.”

Azzi smiles into Paige’s bicep. “You’re such a romantic.”

“You know that if I had the choice I would’ve spent the entire day with you?”

“I know. You’re pretty obsessed with me.” And there are a lot of words that Azzi wants to say. That she thinks that her heart beats for Paige, and she doesn’t know how she managed to live before this crazy beanpole white girl ran into her life and upheaved everything she knew. But she stores it inside the small part of her brain that’s been working on her vows since she was 14, and instead she says, “But it’s not like you forgot an anniversary. You and I both know today doesn’t really matter.”

“But you matter.” Paige’s grip tightens on Azzi.

Azzi nuzzles her head into Paige’s chest, sighing contentedly as her eyes flutter sleepily. “You make me feel like I matter.”

[pileofmush]

you don't know what i deserve .·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

ft. okkotsu yuuta

it’s 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. you're on your own—just you and the dead body.

info : ̗̀➛ tags: gn!reader, neighbor au, strangers to lovers, yuuta & reader are a little strange, happy ending // cw: death, light angst, vulgar language, canon-typical violence...but pretty mild imo

thoughts : ̗̀➛ helllooo. back on my bullshit. let's call this a very belated birthday present to my beloved <3 // read this on ao3

wc : ̗̀➛ 5.1k

The human body contains a shit ton of blood. 

Which is not something you think about often, but now you are forced to confront this fact in real-time. People… have a lot of blood.

And it stains. No matter how many times you wash your hands. There are still flakes of blood wedged underneath your fingernails. Part of you thinks it'll never go away.

...And then there's Sailor Moon.

“I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice! I am Sailor Moon! And now, in the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”  

Cue trumpets and flashy poses; the makings of a battle. Your comfort anime blares in the background of a morbid scene, the flickering TV casting a soft glow on a sight that will inevitably haunt your nightmares. 

Because it's 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. Still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. You pace in your tiny living room, unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. The pretty Sailor Guardians won’t save you now. You’re on your own. Just you and the dead body.

How romantic.

The chill from outside has swept into your apartment thanks to that annoying fucking prick who left your window open. Honestly, people these days have no decency. The least he could’ve done was close your shutters after tumbling through your bedroom window like a deranged acrobat. Now you’re, like, moderately cold. 

“What a fucking mess,” you sigh.

Blood seeps into the earthy Persian rug that you got for half-price at a flea market a few months ago. It’s dark; puddling, like... like a knocked-over glass of chocolate milk, spilled all over the kitchen table. Or, maybe chocolate syrup would be more apt. It doesn’t matter, though. You can always get a new rug. You know, if you make it out of this situation of yours intact and not in a dingy prison cell for homicide.

Hmm. You might be sorta kinda screwed. 

The police, of course, are out of the question. No matter your side of the story, it wouldn’t hold up in trial. No, no, no. A foreigner murdering a Japanese citizen? Even if it was in self-defense, it wouldn’t matter. Forget prison—you’ll probably be hanged.

So, you could run… But you probably wouldn’t get far. Or, you could do what every naive murderer in the movie about karmic retribution does and try your darnedest to get away with it.

“Option two it is!” you quit pacing and announce to the room. Thankfully, the body doesn’t respond.

A weak knock at the door sounds off—a gunshot. Your heart stalls, your head snapping to the entrance of the apartment. Who the hell is at your door? The person at the door knocks a second time, a little bit more insistently, and you start to sweat. “Hello, is everything alright? I—I heard a scream.”

You step up to the peephole and squint. A mild-looking man shuffles his feet outside your door. It’s your next-door neighbor, bathed in the ugly yellow lighting of your apartment complex. He smiles like he knows that you can see him. 

This… isn’t ideal. You could choose to not answer him, but that probably wouldn’t work. What if he called the police? You take a breath. “Everything’s fine,” you call out.

The man’s smile freezes in place, somehow more eerie than a frown; his hands burrow deeper into his pockets. “Oh!” he says. “Are… Are you sure?”

You turn away from the peephole, a little unnerved. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but I heard a lot more than a single scream.”

A slow, dreadful feeling starts to seep into your gut. “Pardon?” 

There’s a pause. You swallow.

“These walls are thin.” 

Fuck. He knows. Oh God, he knows. 

No—that’s impossible. You were the only one to scream. Yasuhiro… He didn’t get the chance to. So this is just a concerned neighbor checking in on you. Nothing more, nothing less. You can prove it, prove that you’re okay.

You open the door a smidge so that you can peek through, then step outside and shut the door behind you. Your neighbor, what’s his name again? Okkotsu, right? Okkotsu’s brows lift at the sight of you, then relax. He’s wearing a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweats that should probably be criminal in Japan. His eyes flicker up and down your frame. You suppress a shiver.

“Just a horror movie,” you broach, offering him a polite smile. “I’m an easy fright.”

Okkotsu pulls a hand out of his pocket to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. His gentle smile has dimmed. “I’m not sure I believe you,” he says in an apologetic tone.

You both notice the tremor that runs through your body. Nosy fucking neighbors and their lack of sense when it comes to minding their own business. You stare mulishly at the floor. His shoes are simple. Black; scuffed. His left foot taps once against the floor. Whatever. You don't have to answer to him. Gathering up your resolve, you start to speak. “Listen, Okkotsu-san,” you say but are cut off quickly.

“Is that blood?” 

That makes you freeze, eyes glued to the floor. A cold set of fingers dips under your chin and gently lifts it. Your gaze meets his: two pools of an endless, starless night. It flickers to a spot beside your ear knowingly and you reach for it. 

He’s right. Blood sticks to your fingers, not yet dry. Lurking in the crevice behind your ear. You missed a spot.

“Well spotted.” It’s fruitless to lie now. You know it, he knows it. Now it’s a matter of who’ll crack first. 

“Are you… Are you injured?”

Physically? No. Psychiatrically? Well, you just murdered a man, so.

“I’m unharmed.” 

Okkotsu blinks owlishly. “Is that so?” He murmurs curiously, tilting your head to the side to observe the blood staining your skin. 

You readjust your head and mimic him, blinking slowly. “Okkotsu—”

“Yuuta,” he interrupts. 

You blink again. For such a mild, polite-seeming boy, he really is quite rude. And confusing. And terrifying. And you kinda sort of want him to die. “Okkotsu-san” you repeat. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

Okkotsu Yuuta’s smile returns, and it’s dangerously innocuous. He breathes your name out like a question. Starless eyes wander to your front door, then go back to studying your own. “Can I come inside?” he asks, quietly. 

Everything stills, even your heart. You’re not quite certain you’re alive, when you ask, dubiously, “The apartment?” 

Okkotsu just smiles.

You let Okkotsu come inside.

Which is absolutely fucking insane, but you have a feeling that your neighbor’s worse off than you are, and that’s truly saying something. 

You hear him lock the door behind you before you start. Silently, you lead him past your living room, past Tsukino Usagi flying down the sidewalk on the way to school—the start of another episode, then—past your browning house plant hanging from the ceiling, into your quaint kitchen. 

It’s nothing special. A small green stove with two bunsen burners on top. A sink; limited counter space. A couple of peeling cabinets. Tied in together with a white backsplash, shifting colors with each flicker of the TV. To the side, a small table sits, with two mismatched chairs tucked into it. 

Oh, and there’s the dead body, too. Practically dribbling blood, painting your discounted rug muddy red and the surrounding blue tile purple. 

Okkotsu lets out a soft sigh. “What a mess.”

You consider him from the corner of your eye. “That’s what I said,” you frown.

He shrugs, still looking at poor, dead, Yasuhiro. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” 

Yeaaaah. It’s true.  

A giggle escapes you, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. “Fuck,” you whisper in between the giggles. “I’m fucked.” It’s true. Utterly and thoroughly—no condom used. 

“Not yet,” you barely hear him say over the fracturing of your composure. This is impossible. You killed a man tonight, then showed a stranger the corpse. You’re an idiot. You’re a freak. You can’t hide a dead body. You really might as well bend over and get it over with. Fuck.

Hands gripping your knees, you struggle to catch your breath. When did you lose it? Ah, who cares? Dead. You’re dead. The noose is looped around your hollowed throat, tightening by the second. Perhaps there’ll be two corpses on your kitchen floor by the time the sun is up. Perhaps you should’ve just let him kill—

“Breathe with me,” Okkotsu mutters, right in front of you, long hands gingerly clutching your shoulders. Which is strange. You had no idea he got so close. His thumbs swipe up and down, around and around, and you are flummoxed. But Okkotsu is patient, his chest compressing and expanding with each measured breath, and you are compelled to follow him. Slowly, you come down from your panicked high. You let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding back to the imposing guest in your apartment. The other imposing guest in your apartment.

The body in front of you lays eerily still, impervious to your mini breakdown. It’s not purple, or rotting, or excreting out the last remaining fluids left in its underwhelming husk. It’s just—laying there. Laying, not lying, because it is no longer a breathing thing that rests; now an object to be placed. Dehumanized, in every way. Then again, what is dehumanization if not just another word for murder? What is murder, if not just the taking away of a person’s autonomy? Dead bodies can’t rest. It will never lie again. 

The dead body lays.

And you wonder for how much longer you’ll keep your own autonomy.

When do the dead start to attract flies? Realistically, you know it can range from a day to a few days for a decomposing body to become…obscene, depending on the environmental conditions. It hasn’t even been a few hours. You doubt flies will start buzzing around any time soon. If you move to crouch down and touch it, it’ll probably still be warm.  

The swipe of a thumb over your shoulder brings your awareness back to your neighbor. 

“Why are you helping me?” You ask, wiping the tears that have beaded up in the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is steadier now, but you’re still trembling. That damn window is still open. 

The hands on your shoulders release, and you look up to gauge his thoughts. He’s frowning. His eyes cloud, then sharpen: lightning against a black sky. “You need to get rid of the body, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you nod anyway. 

“Then we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I bet we’ll be done before dawn.”

He makes to walk away but you stay rooted to your spot, trying to figure out why this strange, strange neighbor of yours who makes friends with stray cats and tends to the apartment garden is willing to become an accomplice of murder for you. 

“Okkotsu, are… Are you in love with me or something?” 

Your neighbor stops, then snorts, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to face you. A soft pout lies on his lips as he skillfully evades your question with a request of his own. “Hey, if you’re gonna ask me something like that, why don’t you use my name next time?”  

You don’t ask again.

You have far bigger problems than interrogating Okkotsu Yuuta, so you push it aside and stalk toward the body. Okkotsu joins you, and the two of you peer at the deceased man before you. It’s… Still. The blood has stopped its puddling; a thin line stretches the column of its throat. His throat was slit neatly, gracefully, like an act of love. It wasn’t one, but, maybe you gave Yasuhiro what he wanted, in a terrible, twisted way. How magnanimous of you. 

Yasuhiro wasn’t an attractive man. Limp brown hair framing a slightly uglier-than-average face. At least he had the decency to close his eyes before his last, dying breath. They were blood-shot and wiry, the last time you saw them open. Bouncing haphazardly in its sockets like they couldn’t discern which corner of the room you stood in.  

Okkotsu perks up at the sound of your harrumph. “What?” he questions you, and you slide your eyes over to him. Okkotsu Yuuta is distinctly pale, a trait that you’ve always noticed and have always sort of admired on him. It suits the subdued, yet haunted look he’s got going on. Black lashes feather the whites of his eyes, as well as the endless void of his irises. Yeah, he’s almost doll-like, in that gentle, haunting way of his. 

“You’re creepier than the corpse,” you tell him instead and turn away, just barely hiding your smile. The laugh that rings out from him sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard. 

Just kidding. It actually sounds kind of sweet.

Okkotsu follows you to the bathroom, where you’ve grabbed pretty much all of your cleaning supplies. You stuff them in a bucket and he hauls it out of your arms, the two of you shuffling back to the kitchen. 

“So how should we go about this?” You muse, staring at the body. The movies you’ve seen are the only reference you have for the disposal of dead bodies, but those usually end with the killer getting caught, so you’re not so sure about mimicking their methods. 

“I’m not sure,” Okkotsu says, tilting his head in thought. “Severing his limbs without the proper tools would be difficult. I guess we could carry him and bury him somewhere unassuming—unless you have a car that we could use?” A quick glance at you confirms that you don’t. He rubs his chin, nodding to himself. “Right. A garden cart will do, then. We should check to see if he has any identifiers on him, first, though. Oh, and we can’t forget about the teeth. Do you have any pliers?” He turns to you casually, eyes widening at the sight of your awe. 

Thin black brows furrow in confusion. “What?” He asks.

You blink. “Have you…ever…?” Your voice dies in your throat.

Thankfully, he gets it. “Oh. No! No, I’ve never murdered a person,” he denies, dipping his head and tugging the neckline of his plain white tee. A curious look crosses his face. “But I could,” he tacks on cautiously.

You hug your arms and give a half-assed shrug. You can almost feel the weight of a kitchen knife in your dominant hand; the quick, fluid motion of ending a life. 

“Anyone could,” you acquiesce, dismissing the conversation. Okkotsu hums mournfully in return. 

According to his ID, Yasuhiro Souta is a twenty-seven-year-old male who lives in Chiba. What he was doing tumbling through your window in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess. Well, he did tell you, sort of shakily before he made to lunge at you, that you were supposedly his Valentine for the night. How sweet!

Snip. You met him for the first time a little over two months ago. He dropped his wallet on the train, so you picked it up and handed it to him in a silly attempt to be a decent person. It resulted in the man refusing to let go of your hand for a solid five minutes. Yes, yes, what an adorable meet-cute! Snip. When you managed to pry your clammy hands out of his vice-like grip, it was your stop, and, oh, how fortuitous, it was Yasuhiro’s as well! He followed you off the train into a random coffee shop, and it was only when you got the help of the employees that he backed off, the doorbell chiming as the glass door swung behind his back. Snip.

You thought that was the end of it, and proceeded about your day, running errands for a few hours until you retreated home. It shook you up for a little, yes, but it was nothing too crazy. You doubted you’d ever see him again. 

Snip.

You slice Yasuhiro’s ID with your scissors until it’s a pile of ashes. 

Okkotsu’s on his knees, holding a pair of pliers to the light. Wedged between the metal lies a crooked tooth. He hums to himself, plopping the tooth in a ziplock bag. He wears a pair of green garden gloves he grabbed from his apartment; you’re wearing a matching set. The rubber’s a little too big for you, but you’re making it work.

It's as Okkotsu calmly adjusts the head in his lap, preparing to yank another tooth that you stare at your strange partner, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this situation. It’s been happening every so often: your acceptance of reality swinging in the opposite direction like the pendulum on a grandfather clock. 

You shouldn’t have killed him.

You don’t care for Yasuhiro Souta’s life. You don’t care for the man who intended to assault you. But there’s not a chance in hell that this won’t get traced back to you. 

You're fucked.

Why did it have to be like this? Why do bad things happen to good people?

That’s the way the cookie crumbles, darling.

And you crumble—crumbled—are crumbling when you turn to your neighbor. “Okkotsu-san,” you say, picking at your dirty nails.

“Yuuta,” the man insists. What a freak. He's a freak, and he's good, and you don't deserve it.

You take a deep breath, mulling over your doomed fate. It doesn’t have to be his, too. “You should get out of here. While you still can.”

There's an awkward pause. The strange man pulls out another tooth and plops it in the baggy. “There,” he says warmly, then draws to his full height. “Do you have a coffee maker?” You ball your fists around the plastic handle in your hands. Calm, calm, stay calm. “Did you hear what I just said?” You ask. 

“Oh, I did,” Okkotsu hums. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your hands begin to shake as you repeat his words. “Ch—Chose to—” 

Okkotsu says your name pityingly. “I thought we already had this conversation," he questions with pinched brows. “Why are we—”

“We?!” You interrupt, incensed. We. It's as if the curtains have been drawn open, allowing the rays of the illuminating, scorching sun to trickle through. It blinds you, and you have the urge to pull your eyes out and shove them down his throat. “You thought we? Who are you? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

“I think I know a few things about you,” Okkotsu smiles sweetly, gesturing to the dead body in your apartment.

“Do you, now?” You laugh and toss your hands up to the ceiling. “Great! I have an idea!" You glare, the metal edge of your scissors catching the light. "If you know what I’m capable of, then you should get the hell out." 

A pause. You pant, more worked up than have been all night and it's fucking ridiculous and you hate it. You want to choke—you want him to choke. On your blood-soaked fingers, preferably. He'd probably lick them clean. 

Unaware of your depraved thoughts, Okkotsu’s lips pull into a frown. He sighs, running a ghostly hand through his hair.

“I’m not scared of you,” he tells you, quietly.

You hold your breath. “Maybe you should be.”

Your insufferable neighbor takes a step forward, that stupid frown still on his stupid doll face. “What’s your plan?” He prompts. “Do you intend to confess? To go to prison?” You shake your head slowly and he softens. “You don’t deserve that,” he says, like he really means it.

Why did you let this man into your house? Why is he offering you hope? It’s too much. The scissors slide out of all your fingers save for one; your limbs sag with a weariness that’s settled deep in your bones. 

“You don’t know what I deserve.”

Okkotsu stops and considers you. Your chest heaves, your heart pounds, and you want out. You want out, and he can get out, and you don’t know… You don’t know why…

“If you want me to judge you, I won’t,” says Okkotsu. 

You shake your head at his dismissal, your eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t judge you,” he continues, and there goes his cold, calloused hand again, gingerly tilting your chin upwards. The pair of scissors in your clutches drops fruitlessly to the floor. When you look up, there’s something like pleading in his endless, starless eyes. “Trust me,” he begs. 

You shouldn’t. You know it with every fiber of your being that you should not trust Okkotsu Yuuta. The man who blinks like an owl and stares at you like you’re a mouse he can’t wait to swallow whole. Who blushes pink whenever you hold the elevator door for him. Who has cold fingers that cradle you so gingerly—who touches you like he knows you—who doesn’t cringe at the sight of dead bodies but gives a damn about a bit of blood staining the outside of your ear. 

You shouldn’t. Trust him. But you—you feel as if he’s reached inside your chest and plucked out your pulsing, blackened heart. 

“Do you love me?” You ask Okkotsu Yuuta again, heart throbbing in his hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours. “Ask me again with my name,” he says quietly. 

…You don’t know if you want to. 

Releasing a breath, you push past him, snatch the ziplock bag from the floor, and stride towards the stove. “I’ll make coffee,” you say, already fiddling with the grinder.

Okkotsu lets you depart with a sigh.

“So what do you like to do when you’re not helping random people bury bodies?” You ask Okkotsu a couple of hours later. You stumble over a root in the dark, and Okkotsu’s quick to grab you by the waist and steady you. You continue, a bag full of your keys, water, pepper spray, freshly-bleached gloves, a burner phone that Okkotsu already had, for some reason, and two sets of clean clothes swinging against your back. You fidget with the shovel in your hands mindlessly, trying to get it to spin. A garden cart with a tarp draped over it creaks along the grass floor. The two of you have walked for who knows how long, but, according to him, you’re getting close. 

The man beside you hums, surprisingly chipper for the nefarious activities afoot. “When I’m not busy, I like to garden and crochet. I also like making food for my friends from time to time,” he says in a simple, humble manner. The last part doesn’t surprise you. He’s brought you helpings of food on the most random occasions, showing up at your doorstep with self-proclaimed “leftovers” and shoving full plates into your arms with a velvety smile. That does beg the question, though…

“Have you considered us friends this whole time?” You squint at him in the dark, only the moonlight carving out the contours of his subtle, delicate features. You’re kind of surprised. You two made decent neighbors but only ever talked in short bursts outside your rooms. Your conversations rarely ever broke past polite mumblings about the weather.  

Okkotsu pouts. “You mean, we’re not friends yet?” He asks, before breaking into a twinkling laugh. 

“Shut up,” you bite, but you laugh too, lightly shoving at his arm. Okkotsu, bless him, pretends to stumble. It takes you a moment to suppress the heat burning the tips of your ears, but you do get it under control, eventually. “I meant… Before?”

His expression smoothens out before he gives a soft shake of his head. “No, not quite. But, I wanted us to be."  

It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the rustling under your feet and the ever-present, cacophonous sounds of nature. You spot a nest of sleeping birds tucked in between the branches of a tree and smile.

“Well,” you try to keep your cool, eyes sweeping over the forest's shadows, “Better late than never.”

It strikes you halfway to the burial grounds that Yasuhiro didn’t bring his phone with him to your apartment in his depraved, intoxicated state. He crawled up a tree, through your cracked-open bedroom window—conveniently avoiding cameras. So, once you’re done with this, you very may well be free.

It’s a terrifying notion, freedom.

“What about you?” Okkotsu asks you, something like ten minutes later. “What do you like to do for fun? Besides watch Sailor Moon, I mean.”

You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “Well,” you wonder aloud. “This is pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Okkotsu lets out a little breath before he softly admits his agreement. 

It rained earlier today, you forgot. The ground crumbles like clay when you swing the shovel into the ground. You and Okkotsu take turns making a grave, taking water breaks in between. There is hope alive in you, you realize, as the two of you work in tandem.

Yasuhiro Souta is lowered into the ground with all the dignity a dead man could possess. He lays atop a tarp and your old Persian rug. A stream rushes somewhere nearby, bubbling like blood, and you pray that the body will make good fertilizer. When your hand shakes, Yuuta grabs it. 

You bury your clothes on the way back, a mile out. The sun peaks over the horizon.

When you return to your room with Yuuta in tow, your emotions overwhelm you: you are terrified and gleeful and sorry for all you’ve done. 

It is mournfully quiet as you mop the purple tiles blue, bleach burning your nostrils and freshly scrubbed gloves. Yuuta’s left to clean the garden cart in the gardens. He returns shortly, though, offers you a small smile, and helps you scrub every inch of your apartment. 

You scrub, and scrub. 

And scrub.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuta says to you when you’re in the middle of wiping your brow. You’re sitting cross-legged on your rugless kitchen floor, where a dead body once lay. Sweat clings to your skin in uncomfortable places and you reek of bleach. “Shut the fuck up and scrub, Yuuta,” you command. 

Yuuta’s serene smile is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever seen before.

You could probably fall in love with him, you contemplate as you watch your neighbor make fluffy pancakes in the comforts of his own kitchen. If you haven’t fallen in love with him, already, that is. You doubt you’ll ever have a connection with someone as profound as the bond you share with the soft-spoken man who helped you bury a dead body. 

Love, you marvel, in the span of a few hours.

It’s disquieting. 

After multiple showers, and after Yuuta’s stuffed you with more pancakes than you can chew, the pair of you are lounging on his tatami mat, a much-needed change in scenery. You have like, three hours before you need to go to work, which, Yuuta agrees, is crucial to maintaining a veneer of normalcy. Which means this impromptu nightmare date will have to come to an end—as all good things do.

“I should probably get to bed,” you say after a lull in conversation.

Yuuta nods, reasonably. “That makes sense, yeah.” 

“Got work in the morning and all that,” you continue in a nonchalant tone.

“Make sure your window’s locked.”

Fine. “Walk me out, will you?” You request. Okkotsu Yuuta, ever the gentleman, agrees, even though the front door is only a handful of feet away. He pushes himself off his knees and stands at full height, though his starless eyes are, as always, trained on you. You would probably find Yuuta’s full attention a little unsettling if you had not just slit a man’s throat that night. 

You avoid his gaze all the same—stopping at his doorstep with your hands twisting at your sides. Yuuta stops beside you and waits patiently for you to string your words together. 

You clear your throat. “Hey, um—”

“Hi,” Yuuta interrupts, and you smile, filled with the courage to go on. 

“So, the thing is… Well, I probably wouldn’t have made it anywhere far without you. I acted quite amateur back there, you’d think this was my first dead body I was trying to hide, or something, ha. Um, so yeah, thank you—from the most sincere and vulnerable depths of my heart. I guess I’ll see you around? Okay, bye.”

A hand wraps around your wrist before you can run home with your tail tucked between your legs. Yuuta murmurs your name in a soft, dulcet tone, and you’re not certain you’re prepared to hear whatever he has to say. You turn to face him anyway, because, well, you owe him that much.

“Yes?” 

“Don’t you have something to ask me?” He chides.

The pit in your stomach swoops. “Not that I recall,” you lie with a straight face.

“Try again,” Yuuta smiles sweetly, like a haunted little doll.

“It’s been a long day, you know—” 

“Cold, I’m afraid.”

“My brain isn’t functioning at its peak—” 

“Hmm, getting colder!”

“I don’t think I can.”

A pause. You avert your gaze and allow yourself to get analyzed by Yuuta’s doleful, starless eyes. “Hey,” he calls your name, asks you to look at him. 

You look at him.  

“Good," he hums.

You roll your eyes, loop an arm around his long neck, and drag him to you. 

Okkotsu Yuuta tastes like the earth. From dust to dust, you are at the end and beginning when you capture his lips between yours. He responds quickly, hands digging firmly into your waist as he knocks you into his door frame, and you quickly learn what it means to be savored. You intended the kiss to be a quick, rash, thing, but he slows you down, melds into you languidly like you have all the time in the world. When he sucks on your bottom lip, you both moan, breaking apart for air. Yuuta slips his hands underneath your shirt, and for once, his cold hands burn, lighting the fire for something you’re not certain you’ll be able to finish. 

“Go ahead and ask me already, love,” Yuuta murmurs into your ear. And, well, fuck. You melt. “Yuuta,” you whisper as he nips at your neck. “You love me, yes?” 

At that, he bites down at the hollow of your neck. You gasp, then sigh when he instantly cools the wound with his tongue. “Obviously,” he replies, quite simply, thumb swiping delicately at your stomach. 

“Great,” you gasp, and Yuuta looks at you and beams. 

And, there goes your heart again, pulsing in his cold, calloused hands. Cradle it gently, Yuuta, won’t you?

fin. if u made it this far, ily

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Singer!FemReader

Summary: Before Venus was a multi-platinum record selling artist, writing about the quarterback that stole her heart, she was senior at LSU going through her first heartbreak. This is that story.

Chapter 16: Robbed

#Track9 Masterlist

Warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, sexual assault, foul language, violence (Miles gets what he deserves), angst, but a fluffy ending.

Word Count: 2.9k

Part 3 🖤

The walk to Joe’s place was the nicest part of Y/n’s day so far, she thought, the bath she had when she left his place would’ve been nice but her mind would not shut up. Granted she had enough conflicting events happen in the last 24 hours. The Louisiana breeze helped her put things in perspective though, that dick never had her best interest had heart at any point of their relationship. It nice to be entertained for a few months, but she could not believe her degree of naivete when one cute guy gave her some attention. Y/n knew she couldn't blame herself for his actions, but she couldn’t help it. If Miles was actually a nice guy he wouldn’t have had to bribe or drug her into giving up that part of herself. Miles didn’t know how lucky he was, because if it was any other girl there would be no chance he’d be able to keep his scholarship. She came to the realization that no self respecting man would even think of doing what he did. But the fact that she was actually r*ped would be a bit harder to come to terms with.

When Y/n got to the house the guys were staying at, she just walked in like every other visitor because apparently having that much muscle in one house meant they could risk leaving the front door unlocked.

Without even announcing herself, she plopped down on the couch next to her friends, they were very occupied in a Super Smash Bros battle. “Who’s winning?” She asked.

“I am.” They both say, she scoffs and pulls out her phone.

Five minutes later the controllers are thrown onto the floor, one in victory and one in anger. “I told you man, I can’t lose.” Joe cheeses leaning back on the couch and throwing an arm around the cushion Y/n laid on.

“That’s because you have no life outside of football.” Ja’marr grumbles.

“You’re just mad we’re 7-0. And I took out that one chick like last week.” 

“It was over a month ago and isn’t ‘that one chick’ supposed to be your girlfriend?” Joe’s mouth snapped shut.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Ja’marr smirked then sat on the arm of the chair to the right of the quiet girl. “What’s up lil sis?”

She raised a brow and looked up at him, “Marr I’m older than you, but I’m fine.”

“Damn just fine? What about your date last night with Meters?” Her jaw tightened and fist clenched at his question, thankfully for her he had his back turned, but someone else saw her tense reaction.

“It was fine, I’m probably gonna break up with him soon though. It’s that time.” She said as calmly as possible with her jaw still clenched.

“Why? What happened?” Joe asked with his brows furrowed, but with a smile peaking on his lips. Ja’Marr shook his head with a small smirk on his face.

Y/n shrugged not looking at either of them, “oh nothing. Things like this just time out after a while.” 

“If you say so.” Joe says, still not convinced. “Wanna order something, I’m starving?”

She shakes her head reading the same spam email for the hundredth time. “I’m good.” But her stomach clenches at the mention of sustenance.

 “You sure, I could get you a milkshake and a side of fries from Mama’s?” The thought of her favorite combo makes bile crawl up her throat. “I’m really not hungry.”

This time Ja’Marr looks at the girl worried, him and Joe exchange concerned looks. “You once skipped class to go to Big Mama’s. You said the only time you’d turn down her food was if you’re dead.” He grabs her wrist and checks her pulse. “You are very much alive Y/n. What’s wrong?”

The looks they're giving her make anxiety run up her spine, so she stands up from the couch to escape their scrutinization. “There’s nothing wrong!” The brave tone she tries for comes out wrecked with the quivering of her voice.

Ja’Marr crossed his brawn arms while Joe reaches for her, “that doesn’t sound like nothing’s wrong.”

She looks up with a groan and starts to pace the room. ‘If I tell them- no there’s no way this would end up not going completely south. But they’re not going to stop pestering me. I have to tell them. Maybe they won’t overreact, they’re too hungry to get that mad right?’ Her inner dialogue and lack of eye contact does nothing to calm the reactions of the men in the room.

She takes a deep breath and looks at the two large football players with big doe eyes. Yea there’s no calm way of resolving this. “I’m going to tell you, but you can’t freak out.” Like that’s going to work.

“What did he do?” Joe asks taking on the persona of a threatened wild bear.

“We won’t be mad.” Ja’marr says more calmly.

It’s crazy to think literally minutes ago he was the one getting heated about a video game while Joe was as cool as a cucumber. She thinks, oh how she would pay for time to rewind back to then. Y/n picks at her nails as their frustrating glares burn holes in her skull.

“Ok so, last night Miles took me out, like you already know. Everything was great, it was really fun, we got a bit high, ate good food then we sort of did it.” She says hesitantly. “It was all consensual until it kinda wasn’t, but it’s not that big of a deal. He just wasn’t the best partner and that’s ok, no one’s perfect. We just weren’t as compatible as we thought.” She rambles while analyzing their faces.

Ja’Marr kept his calm resolve, but Joe’s face was growing redder by the second. He cleared his throat and spoke up. “Go back. What do you mean it was consensual until it wasn’t?”

“Look it really wasn’t that big of deal, he just prioritized himself more than me. I know some guys don’t last that long, so it was fine until he treated me like shit when it was over. I mean he quite literally took the shirt off my back and kicked me out.” She shrugged.

“Y/n, you keep skipping over some parts, so I’m gonna ask you this again.” Joe took her hands and sat her down on the couch. “Did he force himself on you?” He was trying so hard not to lose that last shrivel of calm, but the look of innocence on her face when the girl’s eyes welled up and the way she fell into his arms did it for him. He hated the way she looked so young in his arms, he hated the borderline homicidal ideas that he wanted to see through when he saw Miles, but most of all, he hated how helpless he felt now that what was done was done and there was no way for him to take away her pain. 

They stayed stayed like that, Venus curled up in the quarterback’s arms, until she fell asleep. Only when he was sure she wouldn’t wake up from her much needed rest did he untangle himself and get up. He covered her with the blanket she left months ago on their couch then joined Ja’Marr in the kitchen.

“I’m gonna kill him. You coming?” He asked pulling on a LSU hoodie. 

Ja’Marr shook his head and grabbed the arm of the QB and pulls him back. “Look I want him dealt with just as much as you do, but you know we can’t leave her like this. We’re all she’s got right now.” They look over at her sleeping figure.

“I’m sure we could be done before she gets up if we grab some of the guys.” Joe huffs, then sighs looking down.

“Ja’marr you don’t know how I feel right now. Sure she’s like a sister to you, but I think I’m in love with her. When I look at Y/n I see my future, I see her on the sidelines as we win our first superbowl. I see myself thanking her during every single award acceptance speech. I see us living in my hometown talking about how much we love our kids. I don’t like seeing her like this, I can’t.”

Ja’Marr puts a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know, but it’s our responsibility to be there for her right now. This isn’t the first time she’s gone through this, but it wasn’t this bad last time. If you love her as much as you say you do, you need to make sure she knows you’re there for the rights reasons. So what do you think she needs right now?”

“Food.” Joe replies with full seriousness. “Not her usual, but something she’ll actually eat. Instead of a cheeseburger we’ll get her a melt, its close enough for familiarity but still new enough so she can’t associate it with him. Tots instead of fries, ‘potato is potato’ she’d say.” He chuckles. “And replace the milkshake with a malt, but instead of just chocolate it should be peanut butter cups.”

Ja’Marr smirks, “she really does have you completely wrapped around her finger without even knowing it. I’ll go by Mama’s, grab all of us dinner then we’ll take it back to hers.” His friend nodded then went back over to the couch. Joe lifted her legs up, sat down then placed them over his lap then admired how peaceful she looked in her sleep despite pain that put her there.

Ja’marr shook his head at the two, as he walked out the door he hoped that one day they’d get that future Joe spoke so passionately about.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

Peace, calm, and tranquility; three things you hadn’t felt in forever it seemed like. The heavy blanket of sleep slowly lifted off of you as woke up from the short slumber. Waking up you could feel the weight of Joe’s arms on your legs and the stroke of his fingers against your calf. You don’t know when you fell asleep, but it the sky was much dimmer than before. Joe hadn’t noticed you’d woken up yet so you took the time to think about how different everything would be if you were with him instead. You knew you weren’t his type, but it was nicer to think about that compared to reality. You always felt safe with him, it wasn’t his height or how big he was, it was his aura. He oozed protectiveness, you definitely saw it when you told him what happened. 

Ja’Marr came through the door a few minutes into your little ‘Joe watching’ session. “Hey lil sis, how’d you sleep?”

Joe frowned at him confused before turning his head to you. “When did you wake up?”

You shrugged, “a couple of minutes ago. I wanted to see how long it took you to notice, then someone ruined it.” You said playfully side eyeing Ja’Marr.

He lightly chuckled as you swung your legs off of him. “Something smells incredible, please tell me its for me.” 

Ja’Marr waved the bag from Mama’s in front of you before pulling it back to his chest. “Yup, but we gotta get you home first.” 

“Do we have to? I could just stay here, forever.” You pout slouching back onto the couch.

“As much as we’d love that, you know the rules of the house after the weekend. Come on pretty girl.” Joe says pulling you off the couch.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

When the trio reaches Y/n’s apartment, Joe and Ja’Marr secretly keep an eye out for Miles hoping he doesn’t show himself until after she’s safe and sound in her home. Thankfully he wasn’t around, so she didn’t have to see him at all. 

They spend another hour or two eating and keeping a smile on the girl’s face, until she gets tired and decides to turn in. “I’m beat, you guys can see yourselves out whenever. I’m going to bed.” 

As they clean up the mess they created in her living room Joe spots her phone and gets an idea. Already knowing her password, he goes to her messages and taps on Miles’ contact.

“What are you doing?” Ja’marr scolds.

“What needs to be done, I don’t want her to see his face ever again. So I’m gonna make sure he stays away from her.” Joe expresses, as if it’s a completely normal idea.

Ja’Marr kisses his teeth before grabbing the phone. “Look if you’re going to do this, you can’t just text him like you would. ‘We should meet up.’ Really? Nah, let me handle this.” Joe steps aside and watches the man work.

To Miles: hey babe I know its late, but we should really talk about last night.

From Miles: I would love to talk about last night Princess, see you in a few

To Miles: i’ll be waiting ;)

“Did you really need the winky face?” Joe asks with an arched brow.

“Yea, its all about setting the scene. Plus she’s all about the old school emojis.” Sometimes, Joe thinks, he doesn’t understand what’s going on in the younger guy’s head but does at the same time. But since he seems to think it’s a great idea, we might as well keep it. Guess he’s not only a fast thinker on the field but off it too.

They put the phone on the coffee table and leave the apartment, Joe locking it with his spare key. “I can’t believe she gave you the spare and not me.” 

The quarterback just grins, but it doesn’t last long because that’s when Miles gets back. At first glance, they can tell he’s annoyed to see them in front of ‘his girl’s’ door, but then he drops the attitude for a friendly facade. “Burrow, Chase! It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”

They both shrug their shoulders. “Oh you know, we’ve been better, but that’s just life right.” Joe’s artificial smile causes an unsettling feeling in the man’s core.

Miles gulps, “yea life can be tricky sometimes. You guys had plans with my princess today? I tried to come by earlier but she wasn’t home.” 

“Yea, we spent most of the afternoon at the house just talking. Actually you know that light airiness in her voice when she’s happy?” Ja’Marr asks, hesitantly Miles nods. “It’s so sweet, she makes everyone’s day ten times better just with her voice. But it’s the weirdest thing, today when she was over, that joyful smile and cheery voice was nowhere to be seen. Did you notice that J?”

The man pinched his chin ‘thinking’ about the question. “You know what I did notice that.” 

“That’s weird she was good when she left my place this morning.” Miles’ palms clam up as he tries to get his door open.

“Was she? Or is that what your sick mind is concocting about last night?” The door to his apartment creaks open. 

“I don’t know what she told you but she’s lying. They always are, bitches- I mean-

Joe takes two long strides and punches Miles square across the face causing him stumble into the apartment. “Nah we know what you meant.” 

“That was out of line bro, what’s coach gonna say when his QB is out for another season?” Ja’Marr scoffs and slams the door, locking them in.

“We’re not gonna be the ones worried about missing seasons.”

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

The only sounds heard from the apartment are the heavy thuds of fists being thrown into his body and the groans of pain coming out of his mouth. They go on for a few more minutes before the final thud of his beaten body hitting the floor vibrating the ground underneath and into the hallway.

Then Joe’s voice is heard from beyond the door, “you tell anyone about this and we’ll make sure everyone important to you knows how you treat women and especially what you did to kindest woman you’ll probably ever meet.”

The football players exit the apartment with satisfied grins and bruised knuckles, feeling a sense of accomplishment and relief. Then they see you. “Y/n.” You dawn another set of tears in those big brown eyes, they can only hope it wasn’t them who caused it.

“How much of that did you hear?” Joe asks chewing on his lip.

You sniffle and attempt to wipe away the tears. “I- um, I came out to get my phone and I heard you talking. I didn’t think anything of it until I realized it was him on the other side, then well.” You gesture at their hands. Joe immediately puts them behind his back.

“Y/n we didn’t mean to scare- The words are knocked out of Ja’Marr’s mouth as you run into their arms, throwing yours around their bodies as much as you can. “Thank you.”

They sigh in relief wrapping their arms around you. “No problem lil sis.” Ja’Marr smiles as you let go from the tight hug. “You don’t know how much that meant to me, or how much y’all mean to me.”

Joe can’t help but wrap his arms around you even tighter than before and kiss your head. “We’d do- I’d do anything for you babe.” You smile at the nickname change, even though it’s so small it makes your heart grow 3 sizes bigger. You stay like that for a while, just soaking in the love appreciation you have for each other. But unbeknownst to you, Ja’Marr decides to capture the moment and make a note to show it to them on their wedding day. 

Because their love is so painfully obvious, they’re going to need proof to realize that it’s been there all along.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

a/n: petition for Ja’Marr to officiate their wedding, sign here🩷

<<<Previous Part | Next Chapter>>>

main masterlist

tag list: @light-yagami-l

[111-prxtty]

Phoebe Spengler x gn!reader

Four times you hugged Phoebe, and first time she hugged you...

Just a quick warning that this was written really late with no proof reading of any kind, so I'm sorry if this makes no sense with tons of spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy xoxo

★

A hug from Phoebe Spengler was rare. She wasn't a very touchy feely person, not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just the polar opposite of you.

Sure there had been a few times throughout yours and Phoebe's friendship when you had some sort of contact but it was usually initiated by you, almost never by her.

1: it was a Sunday, a day when neither of you had anything to do so you watched a movie at hers. It was a slow day, there were no calls about ghosts roaming New York so you thought you had the day together.

Unfortunately they got a call half way through the movie. It didn't sound too serious so Phoebe told you you could wait there and finish the movie without her, as long as you promised to watch it again with her so she could finish it with you, she said she'd be back soon but things didn't exactly go to plan.

Almost an hour after the movie finished they still weren't back, you were checking all social media sites, local news sites, texting and calling Phoebe but you couldn't see anything. It was good though, right? If there was something life threatening going on it would be in the news, maybe this call was a bit more complicated than they had initially thought.

Turns out it was. Much more complicated. There were multiple ghosts all over the place that evidently took practically forever to catch. That's what Phoebe was saying as she was coming up the stairs of the firehouse. She barely managed to finish her sentence before you almost knocked her off her feet, you had ran at her as soon as you saw her, wrapping your arms tightly around her shoulders and burrowing your head into her shoulder.

"I'm sorry but I was so worried" you whispered,

"no it's fine, I should have called" she whispered back as she brought her arms around your back, holding you for a moment before you pulled away, thinking she probably had had enough.

2: there was a sort of tournament that your school held, your class was split into groups and you had to complete tasks as a team and whoever did the best would win a shitty plastic trophy. The only good thing about it was that your whole grade got half a day out of lessons and got to be with your friends.

This year you got to be with Phoebe and a few other people you didn't know, but they seemed nice enough. You all worked well together, flying through the tasks, and when it came to one of the last ones that only needed one person from each team, they put you forward.

You weren't sure at first but managed to do it in good time. You finished fourth which you were really happy with, running back to your group you went straight to Phoebe and threw your arms around her, she reciprocated almost immediately, saying "you did so well!"

"I know! I did not expect to finish so quickly" you pulled back begrudgingly but with a smile on your face, not completely satisfied from the short hug.

3: whenever you and Phoebe were hanging out, you didn't really plan what to do in advance with the possibility of her need to go and catch a ghost, you know, normal teenager stuff. This didn't mean you never did anything other than watch movies and play board games, sometimes you went out, like the time you went to an arcade.

It was dark inside, only lit with neon strobes and the lights from the machines. Time went by so quickly, one second you were deciding what to do first, the next you were playing a machine for the third or fourth time.

It was one of those games that you weren't supposed to win, so when Phoebe the genius Spengler didn't win the first try, you knew you would be there a while. It didn't take her too long to win a prize - a stuffed elephant which she gave to you - but it took more than five minutes so she was really excited when she finally won!

She celebrated by holding her arms up, along with you, and you put an arm around her side and squeezed as a well done, intending to immediately pull away but she put her arm around you in a similar way and so you stayed like that until she wanted to move onto the next game.

4: it was a rainy day, you had slept over at Phoebe's and were lying on her bed whilst she was doing something at her desk, you weren't sure if she was constructing something or deconstructing it. Was there a difference really?

You were scrolling on your phone, just enjoying her presence, when you got an email. It was for an interview for a job that you had been waiting to hear back from all week, so to say you were excited was an understatement.

You sat up on her bed, reading the email to make sure it was actually for the interview which it was! You were now standing up, rereading the email again before you said, "I got an interview"

"what was that" Phoebe asked, not really listening,

"I got an interview" you said slightly louder, still fixated on the email

"you did? That's amazing, you'll definitely get it" she had turned to face you and you looked up and smiled at her,

"you really think so? I mean what if-" you stopped at her putting her hands on your shoulders, you looked up at her,

"you will do great, you are perfect for the position"

You rushed forward into a quick hug, whispering "thanks" into her chest.

The first time she hugged you:

It was a miserable day out and a call had just come in about a small ghost roaming an apartment complex. It seemed completely normal and they knew they could handle it, the only thing was that the apartment complex happened to be the same one that you and your parents lived in.

It wasn't any different to any other ghost they had caught before, it's just that you could possibly get in the middle of things and Phoebe didn't want you to get hurt.

You didn't even know there was a ghost nearby until you got a call from Phoebe letting you know, she told you to stay in your apartment until she called you again, an instruction you fully intended to follow. Until the ghost ended up in your living room getting goo all over the couch.

You thought it probably wasn't best to be in the same vicinity as the ghost so left and waited near the hall, where the Ghostbusters would most likely come from.

You were wrong with your guess as to which way they would come from, and they ended up catching the ghost in your place, getting goo everywhere. Once all the commotion was over, Phoebe was looking around and recognised it as your apartment, so she went looking for you throughout the apartment, finding no one.

She was getting worried when she finally thought to call you, you answered and she spoke before you could think of getting sword out.

"where are you"

"I'm down the hall, did you get it-" you were cut off by her hanging up on you, and then nearly knocked over by her running at you and crushing you in her arms. You immediately hugged back, "what's up"

"you weren't in your apartment, I was worried" she mumbled into your hair

"oh yeah, there was a ghost in there so I thought I'd better wait outside" she chuckled,

"well that would have been nice to know"

You smiled at her words, relishing in her warmth.

★

Thanks if you read this it means a lot! My ask box is open for any questions or any feedback if there's something you think I could improve on xx

[funnyjb]

Hurting

Summary: you help Joe after he gets a few cuts and bruises from a game.

————-

It was around 9pm when you and Joe got home from the game. The Bengals won 32-21 against the Dolphins and couldn’t be happier. But Joe got sacked definitely more than a couple times and the gear and equipment he had on made him get a few cuts in his shoulders and arms.

You two walked in to your big beautiful house. You both kicked off your shoes and you put the keys in the bowl at the front as you took your coat off. You so badly need to take your shoes off. You are 4 months pregnant and the swollen feet are kicking in. After putting away your coat you followed Joe upstairs and into your two shared bedroom.

“Hey babe, how about you take a shower and after I will help you clean up those cuts.”-you

“Ok, thank you.”-joe

“Mhm!”-you

You gave him a kiss on the cheek as Joe went into the shower and you headed to the closet to put on some pjs. You so badly need to be in some comfortable clothes. You then headed out of the closet and in to the bathroom. You went to your side of the sink and brushed your teeth and did your skincare. After drying your face on a towel, Joe stepped out of the shower.

“Here.”-you

You handed him a towel from bellow you

“Thanks babe.”-joe

He wrapped it around his waist and went over next to you to brush his teeth.

“I’m going to go find something to clean up your cuts.”-you

“No, no babe I don’t want you up anymore. You should go lay down, I will be ok.”-joe

“It’s ok Joey, the cuts left stains on your shirt and I know it must hurt at least a little, So let me help.”-you

“Fine, but after you must get to bed babe. You’ve been walking around all day and I know you must be tired.”-joe

“I am, but I would rather much take care of you and make sure you are ok before I go lay down.”-you

You gave him a kiss on the lips before going downstairs to find alcohol swabs and bandages. You walked back upstairs and into the bathroom to find Joe. He was still in his towel and washing his face.

“Ok! I found it!”-you

Joe wiped his face on a small towel and turned to you.

“Go sit down at my vanity and I will clean you up!”-you

“Yes ma’am!”-joe

He went over to your vanity and sat down on the chair. You then put the alcohol swabs out and the bandages.

“Ready?”-you

“Yea.”-joe

You chuckled

You picked up one of the swabs as Joe held on to your waist with one arm slightly squeezing just bellow your belly.

He hissed.

“Sorry babe.”-you

“It’s ok.”-joe

You gently wiped his shoulder where a small deep cut was that looked liked it might have stung when he got it.

As I was cleaning the cut I could see joes eyes were on me. I could tell he wanted to say something.

“What is it, burrow?”-you

“Just..I’m really grateful for you. You have always been by my side ever since I transferred to LSU and I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”-joe

My heart melted.

“Aww Joe! I’m grateful to have you and very lucky to have you in my life. I will always be there for you.”-you

You placed a kiss on his lips

“I love you Mr QB.”-you

“I love you too Mrs QB.”-joe

You two laughed

“Ok, I think I cleaned them up good. The shower probably got most of the dirt off anyway. Go get in bed while I clean this up, ok?”-you

“Thanks babe. But you should go get in bed, I don’t want you up anymore. I know your feet are probably killing you, so I will clean this up and will get in bed soon, ok?”-joe

“Fine, thanks Joey.”-you

You walked out of the bathroom and into bed. God your feet were killing you. After a couple minutes Joe came back upstairs from putting the stuff back in the medicine cabinet and came crawling into bed.

“Goodnight, love you!”-you

“Goodnight! Love you too y/n.”-joe

He placed a kiss on your cheek and put his arm around your growing stomach.

———————-

[factorialsotherfandoms]

arthur and joui, and tea

Hello lovely saga, how do you feel about helping me crack a new au.

I say new... these are the stats on the actual work file for it (and I left a lot of gaps to fill in later...)

Marcela permits Arthur to leave the infirmary at 10am the next day, and only after further blood tests. He has to promise to return overnight, but it's still better than...

Everyone on that mission has been through worse. Everyone is alive, and being treated, just...

Well, Arthur is a sniper. If the stupid creatures didn't burrow, he wouldn't have even been poisoned.

It doesn't matter now. He says farewell to Fernando as the only other person awake, makes a brief check of the rest of the team (not fine, but safe, and healing), says thank you to Marcela and the rest of the team, and heads out of the infirmary.

Joui, arms crossed, pout applied, is waiting right across from the door.

"Hey Joui," Arthur raises his hand in greeting, only for it to be grabbed.

Nothing is said as Joui pulls him away.

They do not head for the stairs and the Bun room as Arthur had hoped, rather around the back of a power generator. From there...

Well on the other side of that specific power generator is Suvaco Seco, his mother's bar.

She will be asleep; last night Ivete stayed late at Arthur's bedside, anxious for confirmation that the antidotes had worked. At around 2am this morning he had made her promise to rest, and he hopes she's sticking to it.

Joui drags him inside, pushes him towards a small table, and jumps over the bar. Arthur watches as he raids the cupboards, or well watches and occassionally comments. Whatever Joui is looking for it takes a while to find.

It is not until the kettle clicks off that Arthur recognises it as a teapot. The silence remains as Joui makes and serves it, Arthur using the quiet to doze a little.

Joui is not very good at being annoyed. He'll say something when it's too much for him.

Sure enough, he caves almost as soon as he sits down.

"Arthur."

"Joui-" he begins to reply.

"You left me," Joui cuts across, accusation thick in his tone. "You, and Cesar, and Liz."

"Thiago stayed too," Arthur replies, hand raised in mock surrender. "You know the Devil; trying to enter into melee with it..."

"I have a gun!"

"And you're better with a sword."

It is true. If Joui can't use his swords on a mission, it's better for someone else to come. The faster things die the less harm they can do, and the state of the team is already bad enough. None of their teams are exactly rigid, and Arthur still stands by Veríssimo's choice of swapping Joui and Thiago out for Fernando and Erin.

Things would have been much, much worse without Erin being there to shred armour, however brutal her injuries are.

"I still could have helped." Joui's voice has fallen.

He /shouldn't/ have. If the Magistrate had shown up to cause problems while they were already struggling to contain the Devil... Well, that's less a problem now the latter is dead-dead, at least.

Probably.

Hopefully.

... What are the chances of a second resurrection chamber?

But this is Joui, so it's just easier to say "You could."

"And you left me," Joui repeats. "And you got hurt. All of you did. You're not supposed to get hurt, Arthur."

Arthur can hear the unspoken 'that's supposed to be me'.

Still waiting for his tea to cool, Arthur reaches out and grabs Joui's hand.

"And we'll be fine. Some new scars, but there's new scars every mission, yeah? Marcela isn't worried, just says everyone needs time to heal."

"She always says that."

"Because nobody ever listens."

"I listen!"

Joui does not listen, and Arthur tells him so.

And then Joui cracks. He picks up his tea and gets up, swapping his position from opposite Arthur to next to him. He leans over, putting his head to the remains of Arthur's shoulder.

"Seeing as you all schemed to abandon me," Joui sounds less hurt now, though Arthur is sure they'll talk about it again once Liz and Kaiser are released from the infirmary. "I get the cool sword you stole."

"Take that up with Veríssimo," Arthur laughs. "There's a shotgun, too."

"Really?!"

"Yup. Stolen straight from the armoury."

"... Do you think Ivete will let me...?"

"Again," Arthur would not have mentioned it if he hadn't stolen them with intent. "Take it up with Veríssimo."

[ch0wen]

Cover - Part II | Tangerine x Fem!Reader

warnings: cursing & sexual content if you blink really fast

———-

The first sensation you feel, the moment your body emerges from a peaceful sleep, is polyester sheets. They’re quite itchy. Groggily, you kick them off as you start to pick up on the other elements around you.

Cool air, only to be explained by the window left open all night. The distant noise of an already lively city pouring in from said open window.

Alright, it's clear you're in your hotel room. However, not alone. Warmth radiates from something or somebody shared in your blanket. The unknown source is too close. Muscular arms are wrapped around you. A strong chest pressed against your side. You stiffened.

Your eyes eventually open to asses the man. Curly hair in disarray on the pillowcase and face burrowed into your neck.

Fortunately, you do remember last night. Not needing to worry about drugs or alcohol inhibiting your memory. Cheeks heating as you slipped into a recollection of everything you got up to with Tangerine.

��Morning,” he rumbled. Breaking you out of your fantasy.

His arms loosened their grip around you. Trying to avoid overstimulating you right now.

“Wait.” You hold his bicep to halt him from pulling away. He took that as an invitation and seized it, by leaning in and giving you a soft kiss.

A squeeze to his arm was another hint you wanted more. So he kissed you deeply, again and again and again. He hauled you on top of his lap to straddle him. Never breaking contact with your lips. Fingers dig into your hips exactly as yours tangle in his hair.

———-

The hot, early morning make-out session had his cock twitching awake. And it’s unfortunately cut too short, too fast when you grind down against him. Your already-soaked pussy gliding deliciously along his length. He half-assed rolled his hips up against your core. But then he calmly and gently pushed you away after letting out a soft whine.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I would very much love to continue this after I brush my teeth.”

“What a gentleman,” you tease while rolling off of him. He gives your ass a playful smack before climbing out of bed. Your naked body wriggled under the covers while you watched him move about the room.

Tangerine picked up one of his strewn-about clothing while making his way to the bathroom. He left the door ajar and begin to get ready.

Satisfied, comfortable silence settled in the room. Until you’re picking at your nails listening to the sink run when your thoughts thrum louder and louder. Do you say something? Ask why he snuck into your room last night when you were totally fine to think back on that day, years from now, wondering if the antics of Lemon and Tangerine were all a fantasy that you had. What were his intentions? Just a 'thank you' for helping his brother?

The way his hands explored your body felt more than a detached one-night stand. Or was that your inexperienced way of thinking? Hoping that this meant more to him than a quick fuck. Guys normally leave soon after the conquest is done, right? Are any of these things you ask someone right after spending the night with them? Would speaking any of these thoughts kill this blissful atmosphere? Probably.

Are you grateful to be in this circumstance with a hot stranger, but do you love self-sabotaging yourself? Yes.

“Tangerine, how did you get into my hotel room?”

A beat, “The window. You saw it yourself.”

“I know but this is the seventh floor.”

“I’m not afraid of heights.”

“What? Are you a professional rock climber in your leisure time? You can just scale the side of a building like it’s nothing? As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m starting to think you’re Spider-Man or something. That paired with hiding what must be a superhero persona would really explain this next level secretiveness.”

No response came out of the bathroom. You don’t appreciate that and unfortunately, your mouth is moving again. You didn’t process what you were asking until you finished the sentence,

“Do you think since we fucked you can maybe give me some insight as to what transpired yesterday?”

“Y/N. It’s nothin' of your concern, alright? Lemon made an error asking you for assistance. He shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

“What do you get up to that is so special and mysterious that you can’t tell me? Is it illegal?”

“Not entirely. It’s just complicated to get into.”

“You’re making this so dramatic and for what? I deserve to know what exactly or who put me in a risky situation! I didn’t ask to be dragged into it. This isn’t fair!"

“Please,” he pleads.

"Tangerine and Lemon," you say like you have a bitter flavor in your mouth. “Do salesmen use codenames when trying to pawn off phonebooks to customers? What kind of names are those?”

“Ones we’re comfortable sharing with strangers.”

“I think we passed the strangers phase when you fucked me four times last night.”

“Still considered a one-night stand. Especially since it happened in one night. The amount of times we have sex doesn’t level you up or somethin' on the acquaintance scale.”

You’re clambering out of bed, scooping a shirt off the floor, and whipping the bathroom door fully open. Tangerine’s shirtless but sporting his jeans from last night. While you would normally find that hot and ogle him, you’re instead glowering. You're in a rage from the overwhelming embarrassment of him clearly belittling your feelings.

“Get. Out.”

“Come off it, babes. I didn’t mean to upset you," He said in an enragingly calm tone.

However, as he could sense your fit starting, Tangerine slowly made his way to the room’s door. Still shirtless and showing zero reaction to the harsh words you're throwing at him. He didn’t want to challenge you further by physically defying your commands and planting his feet in the bathroom.

“Why the fuck would I ever want to start or try to have any type of anything with someone who is so closed off? You’re an enigma! Your walls are too fucking high for me to even want to try gently prodding. It would take months to get you to crack.”

“Well. How long are you in the city?”

“Fuck you.”

You attempt to slam the door in his face to get your point across. Except the hotel's safety caused the door to gradually click shut. Not fully translating your anger into that action.

You balled your hands into fists, yet the shaking of your flexed fingers had you coming back down.

Chill out.

Shame washed through you for kicking him out for not wanting to answer a stranger’s question about his career. His reaction was reasonable, yours was not. You're humiliated.

———-

You let out a breath whilst meekly opening the door. Not expecting him to be there since you just angrily tossed him out. You're hoping you can maybe catch him waiting on the elevator back to the lobby.

However, there he is leaning against the wall across from your room. His hands are buried in his pockets and he sported a sheepish smile.

“I think I left my shoes somewhere in there.”

You spot the items in question near the closet and pass them over.

“I’m so sorry for that overreaction.”

He shrugs, "It was justified. I am making this frustrating. Lem tells me that I sound like a smart-ass when I'm talking to him. I swear, as much as it would be nice to tell you what I do. I can’t bring you into this world so suddenly.

I’ll say it is risky and it’s not just something I can talk about with every other person I meet, like a conversational fun fact to share at a party.”

“I get it,” you squeaked out. Self-conscious about your past reaction. Your hand is anxiously twitching on the door handle. Willing to hear him out since he chose to stick around.

His shoulders sagged. Not in the defeated type of way, but more as a sign of relief that he can disclose some truth to you,

“I also think I’m fearful that my lifestyle will innately push people away. There are no rules as to who I can tell. It’s more of a protective thing for Lemon and me to be selective. We just have to be smart as to who we disclose it all to. I have to especially be careful with the people I care about or want in my life. Because I worry once they know it all, once I bear myself wholeheartedly to them, then they’ll run. Lemon's the only constant I know because he understands me and our work firsthand."

You waited a moment before reacting. Trying to come up with something genuine but not immediate, to show him that you're grateful for the lowering of his walls. Even if it was a bit of a crumble rather than a full dropping of the defenses.

A smile teased your lips, "It can’t be all that unnerving, can it? And even if it is, I believe that it doesn’t hurt to look at things with an open mind.”

Tangerine gave you a once-over. You're unknowingly wearing his shirt that you grabbed off the floor. He found that, paired with your messy bedhead and optimism, to be endearing.

He looked amused as he pushed off the wall to close some of the distance between you. Any trace of his timidness with his admission has been swept away. His confidence is again seeping through his pores.

“For the record, I genuinely had fun last night. You think I can take you somewhere for breakfast first, and maybe we can get to know each other like normal people do?”

———-

tagging @stregatadallostregatto and @peppertalk09 for asking so nicely for a part 2!

[jasmine-the-fox]

The kwami's will make her happy

Alright! Here we go with a request from Gregreg over on ao3! This one... I don't know anymore if I like it. It's been a while since I wrote it and so... yeah whatever I'm still writing it so it's fine!

Now let's jump into this fic!

Tikki has been a very patient kwami... but she was on her last nerve about Lila Rossi. The liar has been hurting her holder since she has returned to school and her sweet holder was slowly losing her friends because they believe a liar over her holder... who is also the guardian of the miracle box. The other kwami's were also reaching the limit... including Plagg who was angry with Adrien for not protecting Marinette at all. When Mari comes home early covered in paint... they decided that Lila had to go now.

They decided to wait until Lila was going out somewhere at night to act out their plan... they knew that using their powers without a holder will cause something random to happen... but they hope that an akuma will happen soon enough to fix what they did without saving Lila. Soon they see her on her phone walking somewhere "It's time Tikki" Barkk says making the kwami nod and fly towards Lila, of course the liar was startled but after Tikki explained who she was... Lila changed her reaction and began to lie to the kwami about how horrible her holder was to her.

Tikki... to make her trust her... acted like she believed the liar...

Of course, Lila fell for it, she became happy and excited when Tikki told her how she would reclaim her miraculous and hand it to someone else... while secretly hinting it could be her... then it happened... Pollen used venom on Lila so she would be able to scream as they kill her. Plagg used cataclysm to slowly kill her while Tikki created a knife that they stabbed her with and finally Fluff used burrow on Lila and took her to a random time in the past to die in slowly without getting any help to save her life.

This left her stuff... of course they needed to be destroyed... but they first needed to reveal Lila. So, after getting into her phone, they messaged everyone they knew she lied to and confessed the truth about who she really was. Once done they destroyed the phone and then trashed the pieces while putting in a fire some of her stuff that could burn and the rest was left on the ground for someone to take with them and do whatever they want with it... happy with what they did they then left.

Plagg returned to Adrien while the other kwami's returned to Marinette. They kept this all a secret from her as they wanted to keep her safe from it until it dies down... but they also plan to help Mari be happy again. The next day, no one spoke about Lila not being in school, they all believed she was somewhere helping people in need or doing something good for the planet... but then a week went by and her mother came to school asking about Lila as she hasn't been home in a week and hasn't answered any of her calls.

Because of this, the class asked her about the famous people she and Lila have met and the places they have travelled to... only to be told that none of the things they were asking her about happened and that she was a secretary and not part of the Italian embassy... this resulted in the police getting called to start an investigation. Everyone was getting questioned but the class pointed fingers at Mari... only for the police to reveal that they found complaints filed by Marinette and her parents about Lila's lies towards her and the bullying they were putting her through.

They also revealed that the school staff and Lila's mom had received texts messages from Lila a week ago confessing her lies and crimes to them... they believe the class also got texts from her too since Marinette revealed the text, she received from Lila that she only saw two days after Lila stopped coming to school. This shocked them as they went to look and sure enough... Lila had sent them each a text with apologizes for each lie she told them and the money she scammed them into giving her... including the lies she tricked them into believing about Marinette.

It terrified them since this meant that this whole time... they hurt their best friend over a bunch of lies that the believed in. After they each finished getting questioned... they all met up to talk about what they discovered not only about Lila... but also about what they did to Marinette because of Lila "We need to apologize. We all believed Lila when Mari was trying to open out eyes to the truth" Alya explained making them all nod in agreement... they hoped that everything could go back to normal after that though.

Too bad it wasn't happening...

They stopped by the bakery in hopes to see Mari... but Sabine didn't let them inside, she instead went and got Mari to meet them outside "What do you want?" she asked in a slightly cold tone towards them. They were a little startled by her mood as they always knew her as smiling towards them, so the fact she was glaring at them... told them that it might take more than just an apology to fix things between them "We wanted to apologize for what we did to you... while not believing you about Lila" Nino explained as Mari raised a brow.

Max spoke next "That's right. Because we didn't listen to you and believed Lila, we ruined our lives at the moment and hurt you at the same time... which is why we’re hoping to mend things with you for the mistakes we all made to one another" he explained... which made Mari glare "What do you mean by saying 'we' exactly? What mistakes did i do to you exactly?" she asked making them all look at one another confused "It's obvious Mari. Because you didn't talk to us, we don't have any plans to save our dreams. We also missed a lot of things because of you" Alya explained and it was clear she said the wrong things.

Because Marinette didn't look at all happy about what she said...

"That's your faults for not having a plan B if Lila's promised fall through. It's also your fault for not setting reminders after blocking me and telling me we aren't friends anymore" she explained making their eyes widen to her words. They were all shocked by her words... and the fact she turned this all on them, this wasn't their fault but her's "Anyways... I don't forgive you. I'm already working to change schools because your all-toxic people and i don't need any of you in my life" she said before going back into the bakery without looking back at them as they were left in shock.

After she returned to her room. Mari sighed in relief before going back to her sketches with a smile on her face. The kwami's smiled towards her while also keeping an eye on her soon to be old classmates who soon left for some other place... they didn't care though since at the end of the day they were gone. A few days later, Mari left their class and the school and went to a prestigious school where she made amazing friends who care about her and listen to her side of things rather than listening to one person only.

She also began to date Luka who cared about her greatly... Meanwhile. Police ended up giving up on trying to find Lila a month later and declared her as dead... Mari's old classmates all suffered and lost everything since they hadn't planned anything to save their dreams after Lila never got back to them... they had hoped Mari was joking and had a big surprise for them but in the end, she never returned to school and never contacted them for anything. Last Alya heard, Mari had helped a friend of her's to have her art in a gallery and they were almost all bought within the first hour of the event starting.

It was then that they realized... that their pain was all their fault and not Mari's... since they did ignore her warnings...

[hypnoneghoul]

I am not the same anon but I would love another fic about little eds having rain. Love your fics btw, so good and comforting to read!

hi dear anon! have some eds having little rainy being cute, pure fluff (ft. swissalps)

“What do we have here, huh?” Mountain asked as he set a foot in the common room. The question was rather rhetorical.

Rain, wrapped up in a blanket, was curled up in Swiss’ lap, some marine life documentary running on the TV. The water ghoul didn’t even notice Mountain come in or speak, they were so invested in it, all but glued to the screen. A pair of purple crutches resting against the back of a couch was another hint, a strong one, as to how the two ghouls ended up doing pretty much nothing in the middle of a day.

“Hey, big guy,” Swiss greeted the earth ghoul, inviting him over with a nod. Mountain noticed he wanted to move his arms, maybe to wave or pat the couch next to them, but it looked like he couldn't move, his limbs hidden beneath a very fluffy, special baby blue blanket.

Mountain did get closer, though, sitting on Swiss’ right where he could actually see Rain’s face, half hidden behind the blanket, “How are you, sweetie?”

“Mounty?” Rain perked up as they finally noticed the earth ghoul, only when he was right in front of their face. A face that was now split with a toothy grin.

“That’s right, petal," he chuckled, ruffling Rain's hair. The water ghoul leaned into the touch, kicking up a quiet, delicate purr. "So, how are you?"

"'m fine," they sighed, their weight slipping off of Swiss and onto Mountain just a bit. "Was jus' tired, an- and m' legs hurt. But s'okay."

"Oh, sweetie," Mountain cooed, trying to snake one of his hands under the blanket to rub their offending limbs. To no avail, though, Rain was fully cocooned. "Is Swissy warming you up alright?"

"Mhm! Swissy s'nice to me, "they purred grinning up at the aforementioned.

"How could I not treat my little Rainy like the princess they are, hm?" the multi ghoul teased, reveling in the cutest little blush that crept up Rain's cheeks as they tried to burrow their face back into the blanket.

"Stooop," Rain tried to argue but their little giggles, deadly adorable, sold them out right there.

"Never! You are our perfect little princess!" 

"Most definitely," Mountain laughed as Swiss leaned down to kiss the water ghoul's horn. He scratched their forehead with his stubble along the way, pulling out a high pitched, but still pleased, chirp out of the ghoul.

"Oh, did someone like that?"

"N- no, not a'all," came back, muffled by the blanket, but the grumble was as fake as it could get.

"I think you did, petal," the earth ghoul whispered, as if Swiss was not supposed to hear it.

"Mounty! Shhh!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, little one! I didn't think at all," he tried so hard to keep his serious expression flawless, "I promise I'll be quiet, won't tell him a word!"

Rain trilled at that, and then silence fell as they got lost obviously very deep in thought. Swiss took it as an opportunity to tease them some more, "Whatcha thinkin' about, guppy?"

The water ghoul's head snapped in his direction, brows furrowed. They didn't say a word but their gaze moved onto Mountain and after a second a finger wiggled its way out of the blanket cocoon, curling up in a "come closer" motion.

Mountain obliged, his ear ending up just in front of where Rain's mouth was behind the blanket, "You won't tell him?"

"Never, sweetie," the drummer promised, deadly serious. "My lips are glued shut."

"How can they be shut, you're talking!" they giggled. "Dummy!"

Mountain felt his stomach flip from the amount of cuteness. They were right, though, there was no way to deny.

He licked his finger and ran it over his lips, then pressed them together. He lifted up that finger, telling Rain to wait, and when he lowered it, he pretended to try to open his mouth but he made it look like he actually glued it shut.

Rain giggled again, absolutely adorable, as they motioned for the other to get closer again. Then they whispered, "I love Swissy."

Said ghoul had to bite his tongue to not audibly go 'awww' at Rain's little confession.

Mountain, though, shot back, looking stunned, making his closed mouth move like he was trying really hard to say something.

"Y'can speak!" Rain laughed, their shoulders shaking under the blanket. Mountain hummed, mouth still closed, and threw his hands up, as if he was trying to say he couldn't do anything now.

"Looks like he needs some help," Swiss chimed in. "What do you say, kiddo?"

Rain thought for a moment, their head tilting from side to side. Finally, they got an idea, "I know!"

"Oh, and what is it, guppy? How do we help our Mounty?"

"You gotta give'm a kiss, Swissy," they announced with a pride of a scientist having made a glorious discovery.

"Is that so?" the multi ghoul chuckled, winking at Mountain as he rolled his eyes, but bravely stayed in character.

"Yes! Go on!"

And who was Swiss to not obey? He leaned over Rain's shoulder and pressed his lips to Mountain's own. When they parted, the earth ghoul pretended to dramatically take a deep breath, then grinning like stupid.

"Tada!" Swiss shouted. "You're so smart, guppy, look, it worked!"

Rain shied away, hiding behind the blanket again but both Swiss and Mountain could see their proud smile very well.

"Thanks for help, boys," the latter sighed, theatrically wiping non existent sweat from his forehead. "Now, what was it about those stubborn legs of yours, sweetie?"

"Nothin' really," they shrugged, "jus' hurt."

"My poor princess," the earth ghoul cooed, pouting. His puppy eyes made an appearance too. "We can't have that, would you like me to get you something?"

"Hmmm… I just wan' cuddles…" they admitted.

"Oh, that can be arranged, guppy," Swiss chuckled, nodding at Mountain. "Big guy, get in position."

He did, moving to a corner of the couch and leaning against the back of it. Swiss then stood up, Rain gathered up in his arms, and dropped them into Mountain's lap. He grabbed them, pulling their back flush to his chest, their aching legs comfortably straightened out between Mountain's own.

Swiss put some pillows under them to help the circulation, and wrapped them in another blanket before laying down beside the already purring ghouls. He threw his arm over Rain's middle and rested his face next to their shoulder, on Mountain's arm.

Rain most definitely did not end up rubbing their own stubble over Swiss', purring louder than a jet engine.

[sweetcocopowder]

Destiel | Playing Couple Pt.4

Synopsis: After the party, Dean is freaking out because Sam can't reach them until the coming weak. And so he's stuck in the house with the angel.

Word Count: 1.1K

Genre: Supernatural Fluff

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Warnings: Still internalized homophobia

Extra notes: Stuck to my promise :]

Pt.3 | Pt.5

The very next day, Castiel calls Sam to come by. That this is bigger than any of them could have ever imagined. But from where the bunker is and how far they’re out, Sam won’t be here until later this week. The younger Winchester is currently out on another hunt with Eileen. It’s sweet to hear, but Dean only wishes for Sam to be here.

Because it’s too long for Dean to be sitting around doing nothing. Waiting for someone to make the move. Because for sure that little scene at the party had only raised questions within the neighbourhood and whatever spell that witch had cast. She’s got her answers. Cas reacted, Dean did not. And Dean’s got his best bet on that she was seeing if they were creatures or not.

Dean wishes he had Sam’s laptop right now so he could up what that symbol the witch cast meant. It’s been itching at his brain the entire day and he can’t stop pacing. Last thing he wants to do his ask Rowena for help.

“Dean. Stop,” Castiel snaps from where he is on the couch, finally having enough of the hunter’s wondering and pacing about.

“What else am I meant to do?” Dean throws his hands in a fit.

“Sit,” is all the angel says.

Dean grumbles to himself before he sits himself down on the far end of the couch from Cas. His foot fidgets and bounces up and down. He hates waiting around and isn’t too good at it when the entire neighbourhood is filled with different creatures.

A firm hand on his thigh stops his bounding foot.

“We’re fine, Dean,” Cas assures him.

Castiel’s hand is warm and that’s all Dean can think of before he pushes himself off the couch, out of the angel’s reach.

“What can we do!?” Dean exclaims as he begins pacing again.

“Unless you want to go headfirst into a bunch of witches, werewolves and other creatures, then I suggest sitting down and waiting for Sam,” Castiel speaks firmly but calmly.

He knows how jittery Dean can become in these types of situations. Shoot first, ask questions later. Even if it means he’s vastly outnumbered. Which is something that only jitters Castiel’s nerves each time he thinks about it. He watches Dean pace back and forth, then into the kitchen to grab himself a beer and chug half the bottle in one go. Cas can only sigh as Dean tries to calm his nerves. The last time he saw him like this, it was quite awhile ago now.

Instead of pacing, Dean comes back to the couch and sits where he originally was with a grunt and a huff. He takes another long drag from his beer before turning to the angel.

“How are you so calm?” Dean asks.

“Because we’re protected and if we both freak out then it won’t do us any favours in the long run,” the angel chides, hoping the message gets through.

In human terms, he needs to calm the fuck down.

“I am calm!” Dean snaps back.

Cas only raises a single brow at that before he leans back into the couch with his hands in his lap. He keeps his eyes on Dean though as the hunter rolls his eyes and downs the rest of his beer.

The rest of the day went by like this. Dean wanted to head outside and ask questions around the neighbourhood. But Castiel stopped him, saying it would only raise more suspicion and they can’t afford that now.

Instead, Castiel burrowed Dean’s phone and rang Gabriella to say thanks for inviting them. She was more than delighted to hear from them and to hear that Cas was fine. She even mentioned that both of them should come by again soon for a little cup of tea.

Dean wanted to say it’s a trap, but Cas wasn’t getting that type of unease with Gabriella. Not even with Dante.

-

That night, after double and triple checking the wards and the salt lines, Dean had put on a movie to ease his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about what the witch had done to Cas. Yes, it was an easy fix. But with how helpless he felt surrounded by so many people, it made him shiver. An uneasiness coming over him. He’s seen the angel in pain before and he wished, prayed even that he never have to hear those noises again.

But here he was, having fresh memories in his head of Castiel crying out in agony. He sips on his fifth beer for the day with a little less enthusiasm than the last.

Cas, having left his trench coat and suit jacket behind, sits down on the other end of the couch with him to join him for the movie. They sit in silence for a while, but Dean can feel that the angel wants to say something.

“Spit it out, Cas,” Dean suddenly says. “You’re making me feel itchy.”

“I want to say we can’t faulter in our disguise now,” Cas inquires. “Especially not now.”

“I know that, Cas,” the hunter says as if it’s obvious.

But the angel only raises a single brow as he frowns slightly. Dean scoffs at this and looks to back to the movie before back at Castiel.

“Do you? Because every time I try and play this role, you’re the one pushing away,” Cas says firmly.

This strikes a nerve in Dean. He wants to snap out, lash out, bite. But he knows why he’s like this. And it all has to do with these weird feelings he has rocking around in him that he can’t make heads or tails of. So he does the only thing he knows and reverts to anger and biting, which doesn’t get him anywhere.

Dean keeps his mouth shut for a few seconds before letting out the air from his lungs he didn’t realize he was holding in. He huffs somewhat to a child and adverts his eyes.

“Then what would you suggest I do?” Dean asks, more or so grumbles.

At this, Castiel shuffles a little closer to the hunter on the couch. By instinct, Dean stiffens up.

“Come here,” and with, Dean is being pulled into the angel’s warm arms.

Dean can’t help but stare at the space in front of him. It’s all pretend. This isn’t real. There’s no need to panic. He shuffles a bit so he can get comfy in Cas’s hold, but the angel makes it clear he isn’t letting go. Not until he relaxes.

They watch the movie in silence but all Dean can think about how… safe he feels. The jumble of emotions running circles in his gut feel like a thousand butterflies. He’s never felt like this flirting with woman. Not even when he knows he’s nervous.

The movie passes by but Dean is very aware of how warm the angel is against him. It’s… nice. And something deep down in Dean, something he will never admit.

He wishes this all wasn’t pretend.

[stormysunday9]

One thing I always wished was that my life had a soundtrack. You can feel things so much deeper with music. My life doesn't have a soundtrack, but I thought my writing could. So here's a few songs to pair with the story if you want to feel it a little more. ❤️

This one is full of angst, no 18+ stuff save for some language.

TW: emotional abuse, injured JB9

P.s. I have no idea how to format on this app so if I'm doing it all wrong please feel free to make fun of me and/or teach me.

One More Chance

I was at the game when Joe was brutally sacked and the defender fell on top of him, crushing his wrist. I ran from the stands to meet him at the medical facility next to the Bengals locker room. Joe seemed too relaxed about it all when told me he "heard a pop." He was clearly still very much in shock. An x-ray and an ultrasound confirmed he had snapped a ligament in his wrist, and as a result, his grip strength was almost nothing. The medical trainer wrapped his wrist and he went back out to the sidelines. I went out to the players parking lot and waited for the game to end. I sat in Joe's car and began to panic. When the shock wore off, this was going to get ugly. He was still riding adrenaline, watching his boys finish the game. I was going to have to deal with the natural disaster that was injured Joe when we got home and he came down from it all.

An hour later, he gently knocked on the passenger window, scaring me out of my mental nightmare. 

"You're gonna have to drive, babe."

Fair enough, I realized. Stick shift wasn't very easy with one hand. I got out of the car and walked around the to driver side. Joe plopped into the passenger side.

"What did they say?" I asked cautiously, still not able to figure out his mood.

"Surgery in a week," he began, "then two weeks rest before I can start physio. Full recovery by six months. Fucking sucks!" He sort of chuckled. 

I felt like I was waiting for the air raid siren to sound. I knew the storm was nearby, but couldn't figure out which direction it was going to come from. We made it home without issue and Joe spent the rest of the evening fielding phone calls and media requests. 

Maybe it'll be ok, I allowed myself to feel a tiny bit hopeful. He's older now, he's seen more success, become more mature since his last injury. And after all, getting hurt is just part of football, right?

Wrong. Not for Joe Burrow, who's entire self worth was rooted in his success as a football player. The storm hit the next day. He was miserable, aggressive, and angry at the world. He spent the week getting drunk and sleeping. All his health obsessions went out the window. His friends would drop him off late at night when he'd been cut off at whatever bar they were at, and I'd have to get him to bed safely while he either made me feel completely useless or tried to drunkenly seduce me, depending on his mood.

I laid low for the days leading up to his surgery and spent most of my time cleaning up after him and his week long bender. I hoped for a light at the end of the tunnel, once he was "fixed" and on the road to recovery.

-----------------

I picked Joe up from the hospital when he had been discharged after his surgery. I pulled his Porsche around to the entrance and watched him lumber out the door, his right arm in a sling that was supporting his heavily wrapped wrist. His face was full of storm clouds.

I got out to grab his bag from him and threw it into the very limited cargo space. He slumped into the passenger seat, completely filling the previously empty seat beside me. 

"You look good," I offered, "how are you feeling?" 

"Fine." He answered without looking at me. I put the car in gear and drove. He stared straight ahead the whole drive home. It seemed safer in the moment to just let him be. He has obviously been thrust back into reality, no longer self medicating with alcoholic. Time to face reality. I was sure he was assessing what the next six months were going to look like, and I was pretty certain he wasn't happy with what he was seeing. 

When we arrived home, he was combative. Wouldn't let me do anything for him, didn't want to talk. It was just like his knee injury all over again, and we'd barely survived that. I didn't know if I could do this again. It hurt so much seeing him like this, but i wanted to support him. Instead he made me feel like I was somehow responsible. Like everyone was out to get him. 

His voice broke through my thoughts, right as I was feeling my throat get tight trying to fight off tears. "I'm going to shower." He turned on his heel, still refusing to make eye contact.

"Joe -", he stopped, his back still to me, "I might go spend the next couple nights at my mom's. If you don't want me here...." I left space after the statement for him to counter. To tell me he needed me here, he wanted me. Instead, facing his back, I saw him give a quick nod of his head, and continue up the stairs. I wish I could have seen the look on his face as he broke my heart, but he wouldn't even give me that.

I followed upstairs shortly after and  began throwing a few items in an overnight bag. Why won't he fight for me? For us? In the midst of feeling sorry for myself, I heard a loud crash from the bathroom. I ran down the hall, worried he had slipped. I opened the bathroom door to see him standing in our large walk in shower with a water proof sleeve over his right arm, water spraying down his broad back, and shampoo and body wash bottles scattered at his feet that he had evidently just cleared off the shelves in a fit of rage. 

"Joe..."

"I can't even wash my own fucking hair!", he yelled, his voice thick with emotion.

Deep breath. "May I come in?" I asked, treading as lightly as possible.

He responded by pushing the shower door open, and kicking the bottles he'd just thrown out of my way.

I pulled my shirt over my head and shimmied my track pants and panties to the floor and stepped into the steamy shower.

"Sit down," I commanded.

He obeyed, sitting cross legged on the shower floor, his head hung down in front of him.

I pulled the shower head from it's cradle, and kneeled down behind him. I put a finger under his chin, asking him to tip his head back. He did as instructed. I let the gentle stream run off his head, running my hands through his thick, wavy hair as I went. I picked up one of the strewn shampoo bottles and squeezed some into my hand. I began to massage it into his scalp gently, being careful to wipe it back from his hairline so it didn't get in his eyes.

I suddenly noticed his whole body was heaving in front of me. He was silently sobbing. 

"Oh my love....",  I wrapped my arms around his neck, he reached up with his left arm to hold onto mine. 

"Please don't leave," he barely whispered, his voice breaking.

I sat back on my feet. "I don't want to, Joe. I want to be here, I want to help you, I want to be with you. But it doesn't feel like you want me here. I want to give you your space. If that's what you want."

He made a clumsy effort to spin around to face me. "It's not. I don't want to go through this without you." 

His eyes were so pained, his whole body seemed fatigued. I began to gently rinse the shampoo from his hair while he stared into my eyes. "I'm so sorry...Stay," he pleaded.

I took a minute to focus on the hot water cascading down my back. I stood up, and reached out my hand to help him up. Now standing, he towered over me, but his presence didn't feel like it took up the same amount of space as it once did. His whole aura felt smaller, after hit after hit to his body, his ego and his pride. 

"Ok," I finally agreed, grasping his left hand in both of my hands, "but you have to let me in."

He offered a curt nod of his head. I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the warmer. Joe stepped out after me, and I reached up to help him dry his hair, the stretch causing my naked breasts to press again his chiselled chest. He wrapped his left arm around my waist and bent down to make his height more accessible. With his mouth now next to my ear I felt his warm breath against my cheek as he whispered, "you're so beautiful."

I offered him a soft smile. I knew how difficult it would be for him right now to offer any sort of kindness or compliment, knowing his head was just churning with dark thoughts.

He took a step back and actually looked at me, for what felt like the first time. His cold blue eyes felt like they were burning a hole through my body. "I just want to feel worthy of you," he confessed. 'i can't even take care of myself, how can I take care of you?"

"You don't always have to take care of everyone," I told him, "right now, please just let me take care of you." I continued to help pat him dry. Then removed the waterproof sleeve from his right arm

"How is it feeling?", I asked.

"Hurts," he replied. 

"Why don't you go lay down. Rest is the best medicine right now. I'll grab you your pain meds." I offered.

"I don't want them, I shouldn't need them! Professional athletes using narcotic pain control never ends well." He protested.

I clenched my jaw, trying to stay calm. "Fine, I'll grab you a couple Tylenol."

I ran downstairs to grab the Tylenol from the kitchen while Joe sulked towards the bedroom. I knew I needed to stay patient, but my patience was already so thin. I was so mentally exhausted. Every time I thought I'd broken down a wall he'd built, I just found another one behind it. 

When I returned to the bedroom, he was already in bed and I could tell by his hooded eyes that sleep was creeping over him. I handed him the pills, and some water, and bent to kiss him on his cheek.

"Lay with me a for a bit...? He slurred trough his fatigue.

"Ok," I quietly agreed.

I climbed in bed next to him on his side and curled my body against his broad back. I draped my arm over him and he reached up with his left hand to link his pinky finger with mine. "I love you," he breathed out.

"I know..." I whispered.

His breathing slowed and became deeper. I could tell he was asleep. Looking at this perfect man, momentarily at peace, I could see the man I fell in love with two years ago. I couldn't even make sense that this man, and the volatile person who was yelling and throwing things minutes ago were one in the same. The constant mood swings were giving me whiplash. 

I knew I was at a breaking point. I couldn't do it much longer. I wanted nothing more than to be there for him, to love him, even at his worst. But I also knew that i couldn't be his punching bag any longer. It was up to him from here on out. He needed to decide what this was going to look like, whether he could get through this without burning down everything around him. At this point, I knew I'd done everything I could. 

I slowly wiggled my hand out of his and quietly slipped out of the bed. I went downstairs to lay on the couch, where my unexpected wave of tears wouldn't wake him.

----------

When Joe came home after his first day of physio, after a week of me walking on eggshells and the two of us barely speaking, I decided to try one more time.

He looked like he was already on his way to sequester himself back in his office with his music and computer when I tried to interject.

"Hang out with me, babe. We can watch a movie, or play Scrabble. I know how hard this has been for you, so let's just do something easy."

His face immediately filled with fury. "You have no fucking idea how hard this is for me!", he spit out, "you have no fucking clue what it's like to have the only thing you care about get ripped away from you!"

And there it was. It would have hurt less if he had just slapped me across the face. His words burned into my heart. Tears sprang into my eyes.

"Actually, Joe, I do know exactly what that feels like. Because the thing I care about most in this world - YOU - got ripped away from me the moment your wrist snapped, and got replaced by a monster who's made it his life's mission to make me feel like absolute trash, despite sacrificing every bit of everything I have to be there for you and get you through this!!!!" My voice was angry, but my tears betrayed me. My heart was broken, and my decision was made. I couldn't be here anymore. And I told him so.

"I can't keep doing this. I love you so much, but it's not enough. I need some time, to just be me. And maybe you can figure out who you are, who Joe Burrow is now, and whether that person has any room in his life for me anymore."

I grabbed my keys and my purse. "I'll come back tomorrow while you're at physio to get my stuff."

I saw his face drop at the realization that I was really leaving. I couldn't let it effect me, my resolve was set. I walked out the door, got in my truck, and drove away. I didn't make it halfway to my parents house before I had to pull over because I couldn't see the road through my hysterical sobs. 

------------------

The first couple weeks with my parents were rejuvenating. I finally felt like I could breathe. I missed Joe terribly, but what was happening back home was not healthy for either us. I hadn't told my parents much, just that Joe needed to focus on healing and needed some space to do so. I didn't give them all the nitty gritty details because I didn't want them to hate him. I dove headfirst back into work, spent time with friends, and a lot of time reflecting on what I needed to be happy going forward. 

Three weeks after our last explosive break down, Joe texted me:

Hey you.

Hi you. How are you doing?

Getting better every day. I wanted you to know that I started therapy.

I know! How's the grip strength?

Oh, good. But I didn't mean physio. Therapy for my mind. It's been helping a lot. Helping me understand there has to be a me that exists outside of football. And that one day football will be done for me, so I need to put energy into the things I still want to have around me when that day comes.

And I know the only thing I want is you. 

Wow, that was easily the longest text joe had ever sent me. By his standards, that was a novel. And therapy was so huge for him. He'd never taken that idea seriously before. I took a minute to get my words right before I responded.

I think that's really amazing, Joe. I'm proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself.

I know saying it and putting it into action are two very different things, which is why I would like the chance to show you that I can be better. I didn't know my mental health needed healing as much as my physical health....

There was a long pause between messages, I was trying to take it all in and really didn't know how to respond, my head was spinning. And then I saw him begin to type again.

Can I see you?

I breathed out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Part of me wanted to respond yes with a hundred exclamation marks because I missed him so much. And part of me was still so guarded, so protective of my own mental state, that the thought of seeing him terrified me. I loved him so much, and really seemed to have been making an effort in our time apart....

...one more chance, I promised myself.

Ok, I texted back, you can come here. My parents are out of town so you won't have to worry about an interrogation. Bring coffee.

Be there in 20 🫡

When I opened the door, Joe looked different. He seemed relaxed, but cautious. The tension that had permanently taken up residence in his jawline had disappeared. He held the tray of drinks in his good hand, his injured hand still in a brace but no longer in a sling.

"Hi", he smiled with that damn smile that could melt icebergs, or in this case, my cold hardened heart.

I ushered him in with a sweeping motion of my arm. He sat down on my parents couch and set the drinks on the coffee table in front of it. 

"How are you?", he asked as genuinely as he ever had.

"Hanging in there," I replied.

He gave me a pained look and decided to just get right to the point.

"I'm so sorry, babe. There is no excuse for the way I treated you. And I know any apology is insufficient. The only thing I can do is be better for you. Be the person you deserve. And I don't know if I can ever be that person, because you deserve the world, and more. But I want to try. I want to be everything you need, I want to be the person who makes your life better, happier. I never want to hurt you again. I know now that football is right now, but you are forever. And I want you forever. So I want to put just as much effort - more even - into you, into us, as I do into my career. I want to be good at football, but I want to be great at loving you."

I could feel the tears threatening to spill out of eyes. I tried to control my breathing. 

Joe reached out and gently grabbed my hand, "hey," he offered, trying to get me to meet his eyes, "I'm just so damn sorry. I was a complete jackass, and you deserve so much better."

I finally met his eyes and the tears I was trying so hard to hold back slid down my cheeks. "God dammit, Burrow," I half laughed, half cried.

He cocked his head to the side, pleading and hopeful.

There was nothing I wanted more than to be us again. But the us we started out as, the us before the injuries and the losses. I knew that Joe was still in there, and I could see how desperately he was trying to bring him to the forefront and to be him again, and only him. 

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I needed to get my voice under control before I spoke again. I reached over to take a drink of my coffee. I finally decided to tell him the same words I had told myself earlier. 

"One more chance, Joe."

I watched the corners of his lips start to turn up, before I continued.

"I swear to you though, I won't go through that again. If you get hurt again, and I think we can both admit that's a pretty good possibility, we will get through it together or not at all. And if you treat me like shit again, you won't see me again. I'm not kidding, Joe. You broke my heart."

He imperceptibly winced at the sting of my words, and wiped the grin off his face immediately. 

"I broke my own heart too, the minute I let you walk away," he confided. "I promise to spend every minute proving to you that it will never happen again". 

He scooted closer to me, and wrapped an arm around me, my head fell into his chest, where I had always fit so perfectly. He took this as an invitation to wrap the other arm around me and squeeze me like he was never going to let me go.

We stayed like that for a minute while I buried myself in his warmth, his smell, his strength. When I finally came up for air I looked into his eyes, they looked so vulnerable.

"You better not mess this up, Burrow." I tried to sound stern.

He smiled. "I wouldn't dare." He offered me the pinky finger of his left hand, and after a moment's hesitation, I linked it with mine. Then he pulled me in and kissed me, and just like that, I was ready to risk it all, all over again. 

[hourcat]

Piarles + nr1 ("I'm not leaving.") ❤️💙

Another year, another DNF in Monaco. Charles should know better.

Hell, maybe he should start penciling it in on his calendar.

In a way, he's almost used to it--tragedy in the place he loves most in the world, the rug being ripped out from underneath him every single time. It's been eight years, now, that he's been a Formula One driver, and every single year, Monaco has been just out of reach in one way or another. Somehow the hurt is more powerful than the joy he'd felt standing on the podium last year under the WDC lights. In 2025, Charles Leclerc had been the greatest racing driver in the world.

Here and now, splayed out on his couch back home in his apartment only a year later, Charles Leclerc had crashed out of the Monaco Grand Prix on lap 12. It makes him sick. He's Ferrari's lead driver, he's the only Monegasque in Formula 1 history to have ever won it all, and fuck, he's almost 30. He should be better. He should be better. Instead, all he is is this: sad, angry, and being swallowed up by his couch when he hears his front door knob jiggling. Maybe his mother is bringing by the dinner she's been talking about for weeks. Maybe Lorenzo forgot his camera in the guest bedroom.

"Charlo," Pierre's voice finds him like a heat-seeking missile, striking him right in the chest. Helpless to the sound, Charles grabs the pillow closest to him and crushes it to his chest, burrowing his face into it for a moment as his best friend's footsteps get closer and closer. "Why are you here?"

"Leave me alone, Pierre," he grumbles into the cushion. "Don't you have a podium to celebrate?" It comes out more bitter-sounding than Charles had intended it to, admittedly, but it's true: Pierre ended the day P3, according to the app on Charles' phone. Mercedes has been good for him so far this year--he'd be happier for his best friend if he weren't so fucking miserable about Monaco again.

Pierre plops himself onto the couch beside him. "No," he hums. "Stewards gave me a 5 second time penalty for track limits. Don't feel like celebrating P5 very much today, so." He knocks his elbow into Charles' arm. "Wanted to check in on the Prince of Monaco, considering he disappeared before I got a chance to see him once on track today."

Oops. "Sorry," Charles mutters back. He lifts his head to give Pierre an understanding nod. "Sorry about that." He shakes his head. "But I am fine, just--come back later, Pierre, we can have dinner or something. I just want to be alone right now." Maybe wallowing in it is what it takes to break whatever stupid curse he's got: maybe by pretending to give in, give up, the curse will be tricked and Charles will get it right next year. He can't do that if Pierre is here, because...well, because Pierre is Pierre, and Charles loves him more than he should and would never put him through whatever he'll turn into. It feels like a monster inside him.

But Pierre, like always, is just...thickheaded. "Hm," he says out loud, leaning back into the cushions. "No." Firm. Decided. Impossibly annoying.

Charles turns to glare at him. "What do you mean, no. Pierre, I just want to be by myself. Please leave."

Pierre shrugs back at him, looking like the picture of nonchalance. "I heard you, calamar," he says casually, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. "But I'm not leaving." He's not smug--not being an asshole intentionally or anything, from the look on his face, but Charles is suddenly full of rage looking at him. He's too comfortable here in Charles' space, and it's not safe with how close to bursting Charles feels he is.

"What the fuck," he snaps. "Pierre--"

"Charles, we have been best friends for most of our lives. I know you." He's so calm as he speaks. Charles swallows, the rage gone just as quickly as it'd surfaced. "You say you want to be alone, but I don't think that's true. You are upset, petit. Today was terrible, and I know you think you're cursed, but being alone with those feelings is not the best way to get out from under them."

Pierre knows him almost all the way through. The pit in Charles' stomach just gets deeper. "Pierre--" he tries again, but Pierre claps a hand to his arm, warm and gentle, and keeps talking because of course he does.

"So I'm not going to leave you alone. You can be as upset as you like, yell and shout and cry and do whatever you need to. But I am not leaving." He squeezes Charles gently. "I love you, Charles. More than I even know how to tell you. You are my best friend, and I won't let you carry this all on your own."

It stings to hear an I love you from the person he's been in love with all these years, the words bleeding with platonic intent as they wash over him. But he caves to Pierre all the same, because...because yes. This is his best friend, and his best friend is right. Breaking down won't help if there's no one to hear his thoughts all come out at once. With a groan, he leans over, falling clumsily into Pierre's lap with the pillow still clutched to his chest. "I hate this sport," he whispers, throat suddenly tight with emotion. "I hate it, Pierre, I hate it."

Pierre's fingers thread in Charles' hair and tug gently once before starting to mindlessly massage at his scalp. It feels good. It feels right. "I'm sorry, cheri," Pierre murmurs in reply. He doesn't say anything else. Charles doesn't think he needs to--and then he feels the press of lips to the crown of his head, and any thoughts he might've had just fall away altogether. All he knows is Pierre.

[fumbling-flower]

☼ chapter 15 up! ☾

⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊ ⋆

when the day met the night

⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⁺₊ ⋆

Summary: Filch had no desire to put himself back out there after his widowing years ago, but the man running the plant store down the street from his university is threatening to change his mind.

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 60k currently, more to come

Pairing: Halsin/Tav (Named Tav)

Relationships: Halsin/Tav (Baldur's Gate), Gale & Tav (Baldur's Gate), Jaheira & Tav (Baldur's Gate), Tav & Wyll (Baldur's Gate), Halsin & Jaheira (Baldur's Gate), Karlach & Wyll

Characters: Tav, Halsin, Gale, Jaheira, Wyll, Omeluum , Shadowheart, Astarion, Karlach

Tags/CW: 18+, Named Tav (Baldur's Gate), Halfling Tav, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Lack of Communication, Slow Burn, Trauma, Widowed, Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Communication Failure, C-PTSD, Panic Attacks, Background Character Death, Implied/Reference Character Death, some early-access Halsin content

AN: warning for a pretty detailed discussion of PTSD, mention of religious trauma, and brief mention of homophobia

Edit: I forgot to link the fic, SO sorry here you go

Filch had gone home after with a plan in mind, but it took him a good hour or so to enact it. He had sat down on his couch and stared at the blank TV, his laptop closed in front of him on the table. Then, he’d gotten back up to make coffee, laptop still closed. Then, he’d put a splash of spiced rum in it. Maybe more than a splash. It was only when he’d wrapped himself in a blanket after sitting back down with his heavily-alcoholic coffee that he’d finally opened his computer.

It’s just a word, he’d thought. Or a collection of words, I suppose. Jaheira had been the one to tell him he’d probably had it years and years ago. Then, it became something that he slung against himself. If he wasn’t mentally ill, he could have been a better professor. He could have published more. He could have had more friends. He could have moved on faster. It wasn’t Jaheira’s fault he said those things to himself. He wasn’t even sure that it was his fault. His trauma often felt like its own entity, a beast in of itself that inhabited his bones and burrowed around beneath his skin. When he managed not to blame himself, he somehow placed the blame on a thing that was intangible, yet very frustratingly real.

Why were his hands shaking?

It’s just a word. A collection of words, he repeated. A collection of words that he’d never looked up before, because he didn’t want to know what the Weavenet had to say.

He took a long sip of his coffee. The alcohol burned his tongue. His fingers moved slowly over the keyboard.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is a mental health condition that can develop after a person experiences or witnesses a traumatic event. It is characterized by a variety of symptoms that can interfere with a person's daily life. PTSD can occur in response to experiences such as combat, natural disasters, serious accidents, violent assaults, or any event that threatens someone's life or well-being.

Below the definition he was shown the number to a hotline, and a link to a government website for more information. I don’t need a damn hotline, he thought. Or at least, I don’t think I do. His eyes flitted over the words. Arryn’s death hadn’t been a threat to his life. But Arryn’s death had been completely sudden. One day he’d been fine, and the next he’d been gone. Sometimes he got flashbacks of standing in the offices where he’d given his dissertation. Sometimes he thought he heard the same phone ringing, even though those kinds of landlines weren’t in use anymore. He didn’t even know who had called him from the hospital, but the words were you his husband? would ring in his ears for the rest of his life.

The symptoms of PTSD are typically grouped into four categories, the Weavenet continued. One of them was re-experiencing, which could show itself in flashbacks, intrusive thoughts, or nightmares. He knew he got flashbacks, and though they weren’t so bad anymore, he still got nightmares sometimes. Intrusive thoughts he didn’t know much about. He’d always thought those were the kinds of thoughts people had when they thought about throwing themselves in front of a train, or crashing their cars, when they had no intention of doing so. But clearly, that wasn’t what this was talking about. He glossed over it for the time being.

Another was avoidance, which was what it sounded like—steering clear of anything that reminded you of the trauma, whether that was a place, or a person, or an activity. Am I avoidant? he asked himself. He’d never been back to the room he’d given his dissertation in, but at the same time, he’d had no reason to. There weren’t any specific people he avoided, but given the nature of what had happened to him, that also made sense. Did people in general count? That seemed like something that might have counted.

Negative changes in mood and thinking felt too unspecific to categorize, so he looked into it further, only to be overwhelmed with a laundry list of symptoms. He took another long drink and scalded the tip of his tongue. It was fine; all he had to do was start with the first one, so he did. Distorted thoughts and beliefs—sure, he supposed he could have had those. In fact, he was almost certain he did, even though he hated admitting it. Things just made more sense if he told himself that Arryn’s death was his fault. At least then there was someone to blame.

Emotional numbness he’d felt once. Now, he felt like he was over-emotional. His memory was, thankfully, fine enough. He dealt with symptoms of depression and anxiety, but he’d known that. He hadn’t thought he’d been hypervigilant until he’d met Halsin, and he’d realized just how far he’d go to keep himself safe. Clearly, he hadn’t gone far enough. It wasn’t a mistake he’d make again.

Overgeneralization. He narrowed his eyes and kept scrolling.

The final category was hyperarousal, which made the least amount of sense to him out of them all. It wasn’t what it sounded like—what it was actually referring to was the feeling of being constantly on edge. This, the Weavenet claimed, manifested itself in several ways, such as in an increased startle response, hypervigilance, irritability and anger, difficulty concentrating, or impulsivity. Aren’t half of these just human emotions? He thought. No, I’m a scientist. I know better than to say that. There has to be a reason. Maybe the frequency? Or if there’s a certain trigger?

His phone rang, and he nearly spilled coffee everywhere he flinched so hard. He looked down at the number; it was just Omeluum. He could call it back later.

Delicately, he set his coffee down, and tucked his knees into his chest.

[vagabondfandoms]

More Than A Moment

Falls On Me Part Two

Day Ten: Creche Y’llek- Morning

Rating: Teen

Previous Parts: Falls On Me

Previous Chapters: Chapter One 1/2 , Chapter One 2/2 , Chapter Two

Characters: Gale Dekarios, Lae'zel, Astarion, and F!Tav: Copper

Tags/Warning: Gale's POV, Nondescript mentions of throwing up/being sick. Argument between Gale and Copper aka Lover's Quarrel. Gale gets called a couple of names but he sort of deserves it. Approx: 2600 words

Summary: Gale is in a bad mood from the event that happened last night. In the monastery library he finds an interesting book and then has a fight with Copper.

---

Sleep was elusive last night and Gale found himself being woken up not long after he finally nodded off to sleep. Turning to his side, he refuses to register the other person's presence and burrows himself further into his blankets for comfort. He’s not ready to face the others after yesterday’s incident by the stream. But after a couple of seconds, Gale is then greeted with a rough kick to the side and a grumpy Githyanki glaring down at him.

“Get up istik. My patience is running thin and I already gave you the polite courtesy of being gentle.” Lae’zel growls. “Next time it won't be my boot to your gut.”

“Alright alright!” Gale says moodily, as he throws off his covers and sits up in a hurry. “Good morning to you Lae’zel.” He greets her, looking up at the displeased young woman. “Why am I blessed with your presence so early in the morning?”

“You have slept in and the camp needs sustenance before we head out to seek the zaith'isk,” Lae’zel answers bluntly. 

Gale chooses to rub his temples instead of giving a good glare at the Githyanki warrior. He can feel the irritation deep in his bones from the lack of sleep and being asked to cook when he is in the mood to do nothing. 

“I was under the impression that we needed to camp out here for a couple of days to allow Copper to recover her strength. Can’t somebody else take up the cooking duties for today?”

“Strange, you are usually particular about cooking,” Lae’zel observes. “You are incorrect, however.”  She adds quickly, tapping her foot in impatience. “We are heading out once morning preparations are over. The captain is already awake and started her day a couple of hours ago. You are the one being slow. Lazing around and holding up the party.”

Gale stops mid-stretch and looks up at the news. “Copper's up and ready for travel, already!? She should still be dealing with the effects of the orb attack…”

---

Gale dresses in his traveling clothes and wanders out of his tent. Looking around, several of his companions were up and moving around. Only Astarion and Karlach appeared to be sleeping while everybody else waited for him to start the morning meal. 

Over by Wyll, Gale spots Copper chatting with the young warlock. It gives Gale a pause and he watches intently as the monk instructs Wyll about something with his rapier. 

“Copper was at death’s door yesterday! Why is she up and acting like nothing happened?” Gale questions, stopping himself from walking over and checking on the woman. Instead, he turns towards the campfire, intent on ignoring her.

---

It appears Copper was intent on ignoring him as well. Gale doesn’t know if he should be happy or angry about this fact. He was the one to ask for space. But it was very hard to see Copper acting fine when Gale was tormented all night by the orb attacking her. 

By the time they got to the monastery, Gale was grouchy. His companions picked up on his sour mood and decided to leave him alone to explore the dilapidated library. Hoping the books would fix his attitude while they searched the upper floors for Dawnmaster Vassid’s remains to give back to Burnside and Peran.

Wandering through a library, even one so destroyed like this one, did bring Gale a sense of peace. Books were always a source of comfort for him and he took great pride in how much of an avid reader, even for a wizard, he was. Browsing the dusty and worn shelves, Gale felt a little like his old self. 

“See, there’s nothing wrong with living just for my scholarly pursuits and acclaim.” Gale thinks as something odd catches his eye on the shelf next to him. As he wanders over, Gale sees the telltale sign that somebody tried to put an enchanted lock on a storage nook. 

“Oh, fun! What’s in here? Hopefully, something interesting that somebody deemed important enough to lock up.” Gale gleefully ponders as he easily breaks the spell on the lock with a flick of his wrist. 

What lay inside looked quite disappointing but Gale picked up the soft cover book and flipped through the mismatched pages anyway. He knows he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover but he was starting to question why this patched-together book was locked up in the first place. Gale guesses he should just be grateful the tome wasn’t some long-dead monk’s wanking material. Something he has accidentally stumbled upon once or twice in the past.

Just when he is going to give up and go back to perusing the shelves for a more engrossing find, a sentence about the Weave catches his eyes and Gale starts devouring the words. 

He becomes lost in the handwritten pages of a long-dead monk theorizing that through meditation one could connect to the inner meridians of the world bypassing the Weave altogether to manifest magical effects. 

For a wizard, this sort of thought was forbidden. The Weave was Mystra and Mystra was the Weave. You cannot do magic without both. Oh course, Gale knows about raw magic but to use it without Mystra as the conduit was volatile and deadly. 

There's a reason that the Weave is synonymous with magic in Faerun. 

But this book is theorizing a whole new magic system outside of Mystra. The monk claims magic flows through channels much like Ki flows through the body. That magic is the life force of Toril and the Weave only gathers that life force into a net that gets saturated for arcane use. Connecting to the magical channels directly is dangerous for mortals but with practice, a person could become one with the earth’s magic and produce even stronger results than wielding the Weave.

The author Sol Gaspard even went into great detail about acclimating the body to connect to the world’s magical meridians and the results of his experiments. Gale must have been reading the heretical manifesto, for at least 45 minutes before he gets rudely interrupted by Astarion swinging an arm around his shoulders and jostling him around. 

“Hey, what do you have there?” the vampire leers down at the book. “I bet it's more interesting than the pile of rubble we found, looking for a long-dead skeleton.”

“Hey let go!” Gale complains, pulling away from Astarion’s grasp. “It’s nothing you would find interesting.” He quickly stashes the makeshift book into his bag, glaring at the pale man. “Remember you only read for show?”

Astarion scoffs and shakes his head in amusement. “Whatever, I’ll just take a peek at it later. For now, your girlfriend…oops I mean your ex-girlfriend, you know the non-otherworldly one is prepping us for going down into the Githyanki Creche.”

Gale feels the hairs on the back of his neck bristle at the mention of exes.

“Urgh, Copper’s treating us like little kids going on a field trip.” Astarion whines not noticing Gale’s discomfort. “Going over and over again about how we need to be on our best behavior while in the creche.”

“Only a safety leash, like the ones a parent uses for rambunctious toddlers, will keep you out of trouble,” Gale moodily mutters. “I’m pretty sure, Copper will give you some candy or some shiny trinket if you behave yourself.” 

He swings his bag over his shoulder, not caring if he hits the other man or not before he dashes towards the exit before Astarion can retort. The pale elf’s comments about “girlfriends” put Gale back into his horrible mood and he wants to get away from the annoyance as fast as possible. 

Outside the library door, Gale jumps around a corner to hide down a side hallway, hoping Astarion will take the most direct route back to the group. After a minute of waiting in silence, Gale decides he’s safe from vampiric company. He begins to move, strolling at a more leisurely pace, taking the back hallways to the staircase where his team is meeting up.  

Gale is halfway to the staircase when he sees a familiar head of auburn hair, hiding in a shadowy area of the hall. Copper appears to just have lost her lunch and is trembling, leaning into the wall for support. She doesn’t even notice Gale watching her and that fact puts him on edge. Copper is usually very aware of her surroundings but she’s currently not in the right mind frame to be her usual vigilant self.

That fact equally thrills and distresses Gale. He finally got confirmation that Copper was in fact dealing with the aftermath of the orb attack and all of Gale’s worry was worth something. But that also meant Copper was unwell.

Gale knows what it feels like for the orb to feed on you and his sympathetic nature kicks in over his better judgment to keep his distance. He approaches Copper and lays a gentle hand on her back to comfort her as she dry heaves. She flinches from the touch and looks up startled. There is a flash of fear in her eyes that quickly calms but then grows cold. 

“Oh, it’s you.” Copper says apathetically, shrugging off Gale’s hand and stepping a few paces away from him, adjusting herself to make it seem like she wasn’t just puking her guts up. “I wasn’t expecting anybody in this corridor.” 

“I wasn’t expecting to be down this corridor either.” Gale awkwardly chuckles, noting the distance she put between them and scolding himself for the small flare of irritation that smoldered in his chest. “But somebody sent an annoying messenger to bring me back and I decided to take the long way around.”

“Heh, sounds like you. Not afraid to inconvenience anybody.” The monk grumbles nonchalantly but the words set Gale further on edge.

“OHHHH, I’m sorry for being such an inconvenience to you! With my condition and all. I bet it was terribly inconvenient for you to lose all those precious magical items.” Gale bites back. “But remember I NEVER once asked you to heal me! You always approached me, asking to help!” 

“I never met…” Copper quickly retorts, sweat pouring down her face either from being sick or from nerves… “I’m just noting your other…particularities.”

“Like what exactly?” Gale sneers, all his crummy feelings still roiling around under his skin. Making him more agitated, more angry. He never wanted the orb to hurt anybody and now Copper is complaining about him being difficult and needy.

“I don’t think this is the best time…” Copper waffles, her eyes darting around as she tries to back out of the situation. “We should head back to the group.”

“No, this is the perfect time to say what’s on your mind!” Gale interrupts, bullying his way into this conversation, ready for the cut that can end his attachment to this woman. “It seems like you kept some of your opinions hidden from me and I would like to know them before I don’t get any more unexpected surprises.”

Copper gives him a tired glare. Irritation simmering behind her grey eyes but Gale just raises an eyebrow, stubbornly not moving until she finally gives in with a huff. 

“Big-headed. Self-absorbed. know-it-all. Who thinks they know better than everybody else.” She haphazardly lists. “And you’re a little long-winded.”

Gale was prepping himself for more of a fight but Copper’s words gave him a pause. He was expecting more negatives about being weak, a burden, and dependent on others. But the flaws Copper gave were nothing new for him to hear. How many times has a teacher or colleague called him arrogant? And long-winded is just synonymous with Gale.

Copper doesn’t notice she already knocked most of the fight out of Gale as she gets more personal. 

“Why are you even here, Gale?” Copper asks tiredly, the exasperation sinking deep into her words. “You made up “our” mind about needing space but now you are invading mine.” 

Without waiting for a response. Copper tries to shove her way past him but he grabs onto her arm to prevent her from going. 

“Because I know how it feels for the orb to gnaw at your soul,” Gale growls out in frustration.

Even barely holding Copper, he feels how weak she is from the orb attack. He could tell her usual vitality was lacking because, on her best of days, Gale wouldn’t be able to physically keep Copper immobile like this if she had the mind to move. Her skin also felt hot and sweaty to the touch, in a sickly way. Like a fever that hasn’t broken yet.

“You shouldn't be here. You should be back at camp, curled up in your bedrolls waiting for the pain to pass.” Gale says sternly, trying to cover up his concern. 

“You don’t know me…you can’t tell me what to do.” Copper says defiantly as she yanks free from his hold but proceeds to wobble and collide with the wall. She clings to it for support and Gale is annoyed with the antics. It’s like dealing with a child or a very drunk person. Hell even Tara on her off days can be this infuriating.

“Why, are you so stubborn?” He grunts and he pulls Copper upright.

“Gale…let go of me.” Copper whines. “We need to get going. Wither’s said we all have to go otherwise “it” won't work out.”

“It? What is it? Freeing ourselves of the tadpoles?” Gale half yells, struggling to wrangle this woman.

“Withers said we need to be together...but we’re supposed to be apart from each other. That’s what Gale…you said.” Copper was half talking to herself and half to him. Delirious from the fever. 

“I know, I know.” Gale hushes her. “But let’s get you presentable for the others first. You don’t want them to know you are sick, right?” 

Copper gives him a weak hazy glare that confirms his suggestion. 

Gale conjures a small rain cloud to fill the nearby cracked vase as he soaks his handkerchief in the water, dapping the cool cloth on Copper’s heated skin. 

After a few minutes, her heavy breathing starts to slow down as he carefully wipes along her face and neck. Watching the soft rise and fall of her chest. There’s a desire to follow Copper’s neckline downwards and touch the swell of her rosy breasts that are peeking out of her loose robes. But Gale tempers the urge down with irritation. He grumpily sticks to cooling just her face off, half wishing he kept to his principles of staying away from Copper so he wasn’t stuck in this temptation now. 

Trying to back peddle to more practical not horny terms, Gale was about to summon a small wind spell to help break the fever when Copper suddenly grabbed his well-behaving hand.

“That’s enough,” she orders. Staring at him with clear eyes. “We need to get going. The others are waiting.”

Gale pauses and takes in the woman. Her coloring was back to normal and her temperature is definitely down from where it was before. He’s still not pleased with Copper pushing herself but Gale decides not to complain because he’s not one to talk about pushing forward with a monstrous orb still living in his chest. 

With a flick of his wrist, he dispels his charms. “Let’s mosey then.”

Copper is awkward. Unsure what to do with herself after Gale’s tender care. She almost tells him “thank you” but stops herself and frowns. Gale just shakes his head as they quickly settle back into the routine of ignoring each other.