#joey why are you way over here

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[depresseddepot]

me: hey so one of the three cats has diarrhea but I need to figure out who. can you keep an eye on your cat, because he only really comes down here to use the litter box so I can't watch how he's acting like I can the others

my mother: wh.......huh........... .? "keep an eye on him"...........i mean............ill try.......how am i expected to do that......................do i just "look" at him.....?. "pay attention to him..?"......i don't think i can do that.......... .you're being so fucking dramatic actually. this fork becoming dirty after i ate using it is your fault too

[normal-newt]

Wildlife rescue organisations here have very intense politics. Like, if you criticize any organisations’ practices you can end up being “locked out” of even unpaid positions in all of them. Which is why this is going safely under a username and not anywhere near my actual one. But it’s so frustrating watching everyone making the same mistakes over and over again.

So some baby animal can’t be released, and it’s decided that they will be used as an education/ ambassador animal. Because of this, they don’t need to be raised to avoid humans. But some people think that this means they should be treated like human children. One organisation literally started splitting up captive-born joeys from wild but un-release-able kangaroos specifically to raise so that when they grew up they would “think they were human”. And for the first year or two it goes great. They want to snuggle with everyone who will look at them, they play with people, and they are just unbearably cute. And people aww about it and say that they really do think they’re human. 

When they start to reach sexual maturity, they start “acting up”. People get kicked and scratched and they start to realise that their “child” isn’t acting so snuggly anymore, and they get angry. And the kangaroos have no fucking idea why, because they can’t know that they’re play wrestling is strong enough to hurt us. Because it turns out they don’t think they’re human, but they certainly seem to think we’re kangaroos.

And by the time they’re old enough to start fighting for real, it’s already too late to do anything about it. You can’t let visitors anywhere near them for safety reasons. 90% of the staff and volunteers won’t go in to clean the enclosures, and a lot of them still blame the animals. Some animals are so risky to work with that feeding them takes two people in the enclosure and one person acting as a “spotter”. There is no PPE for this, so people end up using plastic buckets as shields.

Anyway I’m mostly just yelling at the void, but if anyone reading this was wondering why a lot of zoos and wildlife rescues don’t cuddle the baby animals. it’s because of this sort of thing. There are a lot of really good ways to make sure baby animals feel comfortable and safe, but handling them too much usually either scares them, or means that they could seriously injure someone down the track.

It’s also why so many people who’ve worked with animals are so strongly against people owning certain types of exotic pets. If someone is telling you not to get a pet serval or kangaroo or whatever else people are keeping in their living rooms, there’s a good chance they’re trying to stop you getting mauled.

[lushlovers]

frat joe with drunken confessions definitely !!!!

Drunk Promises, J Burrow

summary; joe being absolutely gone and rambling about things he shouldn't.

warnings; swearing, kisses, mentions of drinking, drunken rambling

word count; 700 something

note; i'm so bored and tired but i can't sleep so i decided to fulfill this request while i have some downtime:)) also hey?? Its been like a million years, more frat joe coming soon;)!

The porch is spinning and Joe swears he sees three different door knobs after he's struggled with only you to help him drag his heavy limbs around. He attempts to reach for one of them but misses, swishing his hand around before he finds it to unlock and shove the door open. You mumble every swear that comes to mind when it slams into the rubber stopper on the wall, surely waking up everyone in the house and a few houses down, "Welcome to my humble abode, gorgeous," he smirks, stumbling into the wall, trying to play off the fact that he nearly fell over by leaning on it with arms crossed over his broad chest.

When your eyes meet him, his brows raise playfully. At this point it's taking everything out of you not to bust out laughing at his advancements, he's not one for compliments unless he's high as hell or drunk out of his mind, "I've been here more times than I can count, but thank you," you shake your head as you unstrapped your heels, leaving them to rest on the shoe rack.

After he'd struggled as much coming up the front steps, you're thanking God he chose the bedroom on the ground floor rather than up or downstairs. "To my bed then," he asks hopeful as all hell and you nod, taking his hands and leading him straight to his bed. He falls back onto it slowly scooting himself toward the headboard.

Quickly you bolt to the kitchen in search of hangover relief and some water before he gets any stupid ideas whilst left alone. Upon your return, you're greeted by a shirtless Joe who's struggling to get his jeans from around his ankles. Shaking your head for the thousandth time, you tug them off, discarding them in the hamper in the closet. "Eager for me?" You scoff at the ever-deepening of his voice and allow him to unzip your dress.

When his hands swiftly push the fabric from your shoulder, "Not tonight, Joey. Why don't you get some sleep" you step back and he continues attempting to pull you back into him. Joe watches intently as you find one of his LSU shirts folded atop his dresser, give it a smell test, and climb into bed beside him.

"Pathetic excuse for panties," he mumbles through hiccups, using his index finger to snap the elastic against the meat of your hip. You roll your eyes and as you inch away from him his arms wrap even tighter around you, keeping you plastered into him. He grinds his hard-on into the back of your thigh holding onto your hips moving you only where he sees fit.

"Sleep, Joseph," you murmur against his pillows but of course, he's relentless with his wet, sloppy neck kisses. This time you sit completely in bed, snatch the pillows from behind your head and throw them onto the floor. You fumble in the dark for the throw blankets at the foot of his bed, once you've found them you make your spot on the floor, but before you even put the pillows into position he's mumbling and hiccupping through protests.

"mmmm, baby noo, get up here with me. I sleep a bajillion times better with your body next to mine," when you meet his eyes they're glazed over, almost like he wants to cry but is fighting it with every fiber of his being. You're quite shocked, never has this man ever cried in your presence and for that to happen right here, right now, wouldn't shock you with the way he's been acting since his third drink. "And you're drunk, I don't want you to do or say something you'll regret, honey."

He's melting internally at your use of that sweet little nickname you love to use when he's been drinking, "I'll be quiet about all that, mama, I promise" You sigh, and give in as soon as a pout begins to show itself on his pretty, perfect face, picking up your stuff off the floor just as fast as you had put them down. Before you're even back into his bed, he's giggling and scooting over to leave much more space than you need to keep his promise.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Bodyguard (NSFW)

"Honey, honey, I could be your bodyguard."

Synopsis: You and Joe elope after being engaged for only 24 hours. The goal was to tell everyone when the two of you were ready, but it doesn't exactly work out the way that the two of you intended.

Pairing: Fiancé!Joe Burrow x Fiancée!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Do Not Engage If UNDERAGE

Your head was laying on Joe's chest as his arms were wrapped around you in a tight embrace. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep after the two of you had gotten back home from dinner where Joe had proposed to you in front of your closest family and friends.

He had been planning this for a while and wanted to keep it simple, just how he knew that you would like it. You weren't one for dealing with the spotlight and didn't like a lot of attention on you, the same way he was.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly unlocked it with his passcode that happened to be your birthday and saw that the time was around two in the morning. Putting his phone back down, he saw you pop one eye open to look at him and he quickly leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Being a creep now are we?” He asked you as you laughed at him and sat up letting the comforter and sheet fall away from your naked body due to the activities that took place before you had drifted off.

“What? I can't look at my handsome fiancé whom I love so much?” You asked as you pinched his cheek.

“Of course you can and I am never going to get tired of hearing you say that.” Joe responded while playing with the engagement ring that he had slid on your finger just hours before.

It took him almost an entire six months to get the design of the ring up to his standards and made sure that it was a design that you would approve of too. It was funny when he thought about it because in order to get your opinion, he would show you different designs and ask what you thought. However, you really truly didn't think anything of it because Ja'Marr had also been planning to propose to his long time girlfriend and you assumed it was Joe asking you for him.

You looked at him as he did it and knew for a fact that the wheels in his head were turning.

“Joey, what's the matter?”

Once he heard your voice, he looked up at you and continued to play with your ring before he answered you.

“Would it be crazy for me to say that I want us to be married already?”

“No, not at all. I can't wait for the day that my last name changes officially. We have to start planning. Big wedding or small wedding?”

“What if you didn't have to wait? What if we made it a reality and you became my wife in the next twenty four hours?”

Straddling him, your eyes suddenly went wide as your arms wrapped his neck and stared at him, not really knowing what to say.

“Um, Joey….”

“We can hop on a plane in the next few hours and make it happen. Make it a little getaway that leads into our honeymoon.”

“So, you want to elope?” You asked again, making sure you were hearing him right.

“For my short answer, yes. I don't want to wait any longer. I've been holding onto your ring for a while and it literally took me six months to design it because I know how picky your ass is.”

“Our parents are going to be mad as hell about that. And you love me all the same, including my pickiness.”

You could just hear your parents now throwing a fit about you and Joe not saying anything to them.

And your siblings

And your friends

But deep down when you thought about it, why should you even care? You were getting married to the person in front of you and as far as you were concerned, his opinion was the only one that mattered.

“And? They'll get over it and we can always do something here once we get back. I want you all to myself and one way or another, I always get what I want. And I do love your pickiness even if it gets on my nerves sometimes.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you.

“And we don't have to tell anyone either until we want to.” He added before kissing you again.

“But what about Destinee? She was going to be my maid of honor.”

Joe couldn't help but to roll his eyes.

“Especially not her! Baby, I am in no way, shape, or form telling you what to do but I literally HATE her and she's not a good friend to you.”

“Joey! Hate is a strong word!”

“I know and I'll repeat myself. I HATE her. Since we're talking about her, you know she tried to come onto me tonight? AFTER I PROPOSED with her witnessing the entire thing! Only reason why I invited her is because you like her. Because left up to me, her ass can choke. Your parents don't like her either!”

You crossed your arms and looked at him dumbfounded.

“She wouldn't do that, babe.”

“Oh, but she did. Ja'Marr wasn't paying her any attention but I don't know why she got the bright ass idea of coming over to talk to me. Why does your best friend think she can pull a move on me with her funky ass breath? Besides I am CLEARLY spoken for.”

“JOSEPH!”

“I had to interrupt her to give her a piece of gum because her breath was hot enough to burn off my eyebrows. I'm surprised I still have any to be honest.”

Failing miserably, a laugh escaped your mouth as you shook your head at him.

“I'll ask her about it and you probably interpreted that wrong.”

“Make sure you have a piece of gum on standby, can't have my future wife dying and leaving me. Cause of death, stinky breath by her so-called best friend. You probably won't even need for me to bury you because her breath by itself will probably cremate you.”

“I literally CANNOT with you.” You told him as you shook your head and began laughing all over again.

“Yes you can and you better get used to it since you said yes to marrying me. No take backs.”

“Wouldn't dare think of doing that in a million years. Now where are we going to do this? Vegas?” You asked but turned up your nose at the same time.

“No. Definitely not. That's where everyone goes. I want us to be different. We can always go somewhere that we can also have our honeymoon.”

“I like that idea. I want beaches and sand. Somewhere warm.”

“Hmm…. So I can fuck you on the beach? Good idea.” He whispered in your ear as he placed a kiss directly underneath it.

“Yes, but I was literally not even thinking that.”

“Shit, I was and I have no problem admitting it.” Joe told you as he shrugged.

“I noticed with your little nasty ass.” You teased and he sent a small smirk in your direction.

“You weren't complaining about it a few hours ago when you were riding my face.”

“I… touché and I got it! Barbados! That's where we can go.” You excitedly told him and it looked as if he was thinking it over, but quickly agreed with you.

“Okay, Barbados it is. I'll get everything together and you go to sleep.” Joe told you as he kissed both of your cheeks and your nose before placing one on your lips.

“But..”

“I got it handled, my future wife needs to go to sleep. I'll wake you up when we need to get ready to head to the airport.” Joe told you as you nodded and laid back down on his chest.

He quickly wrapped his arm around you before using his other hand on his phone to look for a hotel for the two of you to stay at while also planning to make a few calls to get the two of you on a private jet. He finally decided to rent a vacation house so the two of you would have more space.

He was more than halfway done when you did a sudden movement and his eyes immediately looked down at you to make sure that you were okay and you were once again looking at him.

“Baby girl, I thought I told you to go to sleep?”

“Yes, you did but for some reason I keep waking up.” You whined as you shifted to make yourself more comfortable.

“Hmm, you need me to help you out with that?” Joe asked as he set his phone down in order to give you his full attention.

Looking back up at him with a smirk, you quickly nodded knowing what his version of helping you meant.

“But you need to use your words to tell me exactly what you want.” He told you as he flipped the two of you over and you were now underneath him.

“But you already know what I want.” You breathed out as he began to nip at your neck and moved further down.

“Say it or I'm not going to do anything and make you get to sleep on your own. Now I'm going to ask you one more time. What does my fiancée want me to do to her?”

“She wants you to put her to sleep.”

“By doing what?”

You didn't give him an answer before you felt him move down further and spread your legs apart while running his fingers across your folds, teasing you.

“By doing something like this? Or hold on, maybe you meant this?” He asked and you quickly felt his tongue make contact with your core as you let out a gasp.

“Yesss.”

“Hmm, yes what?” He asked you once more as you felt his tongue once more on you.

“My fiancé is teasing me and I don’t like that at all.”

“Then my fiancée needs to use her words and tell me what she wants.”

“I want your face between my thighs.”

“Good girl, now see, was that so hard for us to do?” Joe was trying to get an answer out of you as he made himself comfortable in between your thighs just like you asked him and began to play with your folds quickly slipping two fingers inside you making your breath hitch in your throat.

Joe didn't bother waiting for an answer and immediately began to pleasure you with his tongue paying special attention to your clit as he increased the pace of his fingers.

“Shiiiit, keep going.” Was all you could let out as the grip that Joe had on your legs became tighter making sure that there was no possible way for you to move away from him and at this rate, that was the last thing that you wanted.

One of your hands quickly found its way to Joe's hair as you were ultimately trying to pull him even closer even if by now it was damn near impossible.

You riding his face earlier wasn't nearly enough for you to be satisfied and the way your body was responding quickly let him know. As soon as the two of you had gotten into the car from leaving dinner earlier, you had been teasing each other during the entire ride home and barely made it inside before clothes were being ripped off from each others bodies.

Inserting a third finger, Joe began to suck on your clit harder making your upper body squirm because your lower body was being tightly held by him.

“Baby, oh fuck. I'm close, so so close.”

Hearing this, Joe decided to stop which quickly left you confused and he immediately heard your protest since you wasted no time in telling him.

“Joey, what the hell!? I said I was close, why did you stop!?”

“So I could do this.” He told you as he climbed back up your body to kiss you while also sliding into you at the same time with a gasp erupting from you.

Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck as he moved in and out of you at an even pace with him kissing you every few strokes.

Closing your eyes, the grip that you had around his neck quickly became tighter and you soon heard his voice.

“Keep your eyes on me and don’t make me ask again. You understand?”

Your eyes opened and listened to directions, but the head nod that you gave him in response was not sufficient enough. He immediately broke his embrace from you and you felt one of his hands wrap around your neck which instantly made you open your eyes and look at him as he lightly squeezed giving just the right amount of pressure.

“Didn’t we just have a conversation about you using your words when I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to do what you’re told and stop disobeying me. Because I will stop altogether and make you use your vibrator.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Go ahead and try me, baby. It’s your choice. Now your eyes better not leave mine. Matter of fact, get up here and ride me.”

Joe didn’t wait for an answer from you as he flipped the two of you back over and you were in the original position that you had been earlier in the night.

Putting his hands behind his head and staring up at you, he smirked.

“You don’t need my help since you like disobeying me, go ahead.” He answered your question already knowing exactly what you were thinking.

Nine times out of ten, Joe would have a tight hold on your hips and help guide you as you rode him, but you knew that you being rebellious against him made him decide to make you do it on your own.

“But babeeee.”

“Less talking, more riding.”

Placing one of your hands on the mattress beneath the both of you and lining him up with your entrance, you slowly eased your way down making a quiet moan escape from Joe’s mouth.

Once you found the perfect pace for the two of you, you could feel yourself growing tired and switched from your right hand being on the mattress to your left thinking that it would help.

Joe could tell that you were growing tired with how your movements were slowing down and took pity on you as you felt him grip both of your hips.

“You need some help, baby?”

Nodding your head, Joe motioned for you to lay down on top of him and as your head was resting on his shoulder, slow deep strokes were given from underneath you as you were moaning right next to his ear.

“That’s my good girl, you’re doing such a good job, baby.”

That familiar feeling that you knew all too well was building and knew sooner rather than later you would hit your peak. Joe obviously was close too, because his movements had now grown sloppy.

“Babe.” You softly breathed out and you could feel him nod his head as yours was still on his shoulder.

“I know, I know. You’re almost there aren’t you? You gonna cum? You gonna cum for me, baby? Cum all over daddy’s dick?”

No words left your mouth as you felt a gush of liquid leave your body and cover him underneath you and not even ten seconds later felt him release inside you.

You laid in the same position for a few minutes as Joe placed soft kisses up and down your neck and shoulder as you were trying to catch your breath.

Once you felt that you could move, you once again turned your head to peek one eye open at Joe and he smiled at you before leaning over to place several kisses on your lips.

“I know you want to lay on me and stay like this, but I need to change the sheets so we can finally go to sleep. Go ahead and take a shower while I do this and then I’ll come join you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise and then in a few hours we’ll wake up and get married in Barbados.”

The two of you had just touched down in Barbados an hour ago and you were currently exploring the beach house that Joe had rented for the both of you. Seeing as he told you not to worry about anything and that he had it handled, when you finished exploring you were simply going to decide on what you were going to wear since the goal was for the two of you to get married by the end of the day.

While in the master bedroom and looking out the window, you didn’t hear Joe come in the room and he was simply admiring you from the doorway before walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You like it?”

“Yes, I absolutely love it. I asked for somewhere warm near beaches and my future husband definitely took that into consideration. This beach house is amazing.”

“Oh, so your picky self approves?” He asked and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Yes, I approve.”

“Good, so start getting ready so we can leave and go get married.”

“I still have to figure out what I want to wear, none of the dresses that I have are really ‘get married in’ worthy.”

“Hmm, you could always go in nothing, I’m not opposed. That would be better for me actually.”

“JOSEPH!” You exclaimed as you turned around to look at him.

“Hey, I just gave you another option.” He replied as he held his hands up defensively.

“But, seriously, baby. I do not care what you wear and I know that you’re going to look beautiful regardless.”

“Aww, you love me don’t you?” You asked and Joe immediately nodded his head and leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you so much because if I didn’t, I would not let you put your cold ass feet on my back when we’re in bed because you’re cold and refuse to wear socks.”

“I cannot wear socks when I sleep! It’s weird!”

“What?! How is it weird?! So you’d rather turn me into a popsicle?”

“Yes, and I will not be discussing this topic further. Happy wife, happy life, Joseph Lee. I know you’ve heard that saying before so prepare yourself.”

After taking a shower and putting on your coconut scented lotion, you slipped into your soft pink sundress and began to play with your hair as you tried to figure out what you were going to do with it, style wise.

It was already in boho knotless braids and since it was obviously warm outside, you opted to put it into a high ponytail. Once it was up how you wanted, you applied light make-up and slipped in your big hoop earrings.

Sliding on your sandals, you heard Joe’s voice behind you after a whistle had escaped his lips.

“Look at how beautiful my fiancée is, just like I expected for her to be. I see you decided to not go along with my idea of what you should wear or not wear.”

“And get arrested for public nudity in a foreign country? I think not.”

“They have nude beaches, I looked into them.”

All you did was roll your eyes at him as you found your tennis bracelet that Joe had gifted you a year prior and attempted to put it on your wrist. Joe noticed that you were having some trouble and quickly put it on for you.

“Thank you.” You told him as you pinched his cheek.

“You’re welcome, babe. Now let’s go and get married.”

Laughter could probably be heard at least three miles away as the two of you were enjoying each other's company while relaxing in the hot tub that was located on the side of the vacation house rental.

You tried to control it so wine wouldn't spill everywhere as you held the glass with your left hand that now had your full wedding set glistening as the sun had just fully set.

“Joey, cut it out! You are going to make me spill this!”

“Hmm, wouldn't be the first time tonight either.” He told you as he swiped it from you and drank it in one gulp as you looked at him in disbelief.

“BABY! You owe me another glass. Your drink is over there!” You whined as you playfully hit his chest.

“Do you want some?”

“No, I wanted mine!”

“I'll go and get it under one condition.”

“The only condition that is necessary is that you'll get it because I'm your wife.”

“Oh, so you're already taking advantage of your name now being Mrs. Burrow, huh?”

“Yes, so go get it for me.” You told him as you pointed to your wine glass that he was indeed still holding.

“And to think you said the bottle looked like it would be considered girly wine.”

“It's good! I wasn't expecting it to be that good. But I'll get you another glass on one condition that I have.”

“And what's that?”

Joe didn't respond, but instead leaned forward to kiss you.

“Okay, now I can go.”

He slid you to the side of him since you had been sitting on his lap to get your refill for you. Joe had made his way back into the house when your phone began ringing and you saw that it was your best friend Destinee and quickly answered.

“Destinee!” You exclaimed since you still couldn’t contain how excited you were.

“Hey, where are you?” She asked not bothering to return your enthusiasm.

“With Joe. Why do you ask?”

“Did you forget that we were supposed to go out today?” She asked and even though you couldn’t see her, you had a feeling that she had definitely rolled her eyes at your response.

“Shit. It completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry about that.”

“Well we can go out later. How long are you going to be with him?”

“Destinee, can you keep a secret? Like you cannot tell anyone what I'm about to tell you.” You whispered into the phone trying to make sure Joe couldn’t hear you.

“Of course I can. What is it? And why are you whispering?”

“I'm in Barbados.”

“Uh okay?”

“And we just got married.”

“YOU ELOPED!?” She exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Not so loud! But yes and you have to promise not to tell anyone. I figured that my best friend should at least be one of the people who know about it before anyone else. You’ve been there for the long run and have always supported me through everything.”

“Who else knows? You said, one of the people.”

“No one else does and we'll tell everyone once we're ready. But I hear Joe coming back, talk to you later and I'll send you pics.”

Quickly hanging up the phone, you set it to the side of you as Joe was all smiles as he emerged from the house and handed you another glass of wine.

“Your drink Mrs. Burrow.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Burrow.” You replied as you took a small sip and Joe was climbing back into the hot tub and once again slid you into his lap.

His arms completely engulfed you as you slightly turned to lay your head on his shoulder.

“I have a lot of things planned for us to do tomorrow, but the majority of those plans don't require clothes.”

“And why am I not surprised?” You laughed as you shook your head and took another sip.

“I have to take advantage of being able to spend time with you because you know how busy I'll get during the season.”

“It's your job and I will not be getting in the way of that. I've supported you this long and it's not going away any time soon. I'm here for the long haul obviously.” You told him as you gestured towards your ring.

“I just never want to get so focused on my career that I lose you in the process because when it is all said and done and I’m not playing anymore, I still want you to be at home waiting for me.”

“Babe, if I haven't left yet, what makes you think that I will? I know how important it is to you and you have always treated me like a priority ever since we got together. And I'll still be here when you retire from playing. You manage to have football and me as a priority and neither one is slacking, I promise.”

“And if you ever feel like I'm not doing that, you need to tell me. You are one of the most important people in my life and it's going to stay that way.”

“I promise that I will even though I know that I won’t have to.” You replied before a yawn quickly escaped your mouth.

“Someone tired over there?”

“A little, it’s been a long day after all. I barely got any sleep since SOMEONE was too busy keeping me awake.” You responded while giving Joe the evil eye.

“And as I recall, my now wife specifically asked me to put her to sleep so I don’t want to hear it. But come on, you can finish your wine after we get comfortable in bed.”

“And no funny business! I actually want to sleep.”

“I promise and besides, I want you to sleep too in order to be ready for me for tomorrow.” Joe told you as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Hmm, you weren’t saying that when I was eating you out last night and you need to get over it, till death do us part remember?”

“Don’t push me, Joseph.” You scolded as you finally stood up to climb out of the hot tub with Joe right behind you.

“Just calling it like I see it.”

When you had finished showering and moisturizing your hair, Joe had briefly left the bedroom to do only God knows what so you took it as an opportunity to text Destinee one of the pictures that you had taken of the both of you earlier in the day. Once it was sent, you put your phone on do not disturb and plugged it in to charge on the nightstand as you slipped under the comforter.

Joe came back a few minutes later and crawled in bed beside you as you instantly moved to lay on him.

“I’m happy we did this.” He whispered as he held your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Me too.”

The next morning, the constant vibration of Joe’s phone instantly brought him out of his slumber and he sighed in annoyance. Glancing down and seeing that you were still sleeping with your braids failing out of your bonnet, Joe smiled to himself as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

He figured that he should answer his phone since it was probably important and was surprised to see a bombardment of texts and calls from different people as he did his best not to wake you up. Instantly confused, he opened the most recent notification and it was from his mom Robin with a photo attached.

Mom- Since when were you two going to tell us that you eloped?

“Shit.” Was all Joe could mutter to himself as his stomach dropped. He did his best to not make any sudden movements, but quickly failed and that instantly woke you up.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Why do you have that look on your face?” You asked Joe as you sat up and rested your back against the headboard and he quickly handed you his phone without saying a word.

Your eyes instantly went wide as you read the text over and over again and looked at the picture that Robin had sent.

“Shit. How did they find out?” You asked as you turned towards Joe who now had his jaw clenched in frustration.

“Hmm, I should be asking you that, Y/N. You took this picture and only had it on your phone, so why is it now all over social media?”

[sourholland]

timeless; thomas shelby

This idea has been plaguing my mind for days, I cannot get it out of my head. I’m not sure if I will make any more parts of this, it all depends on how I feel about it and if it is well received. The timeline of this is skewed on purpose, it’s also heavily based on Tommy’s time fighting during the war. Timeless by Taylor Swift was a huge inspiration.

Both you and Tommy became unlikely friends during childhood, only for you to realize you had always loved him. Tommy finds himself seeing you in a different light, only war being able to separate the two of you. (3.5k)

Thomas Shelby was the first and only boy you had ever loved.

It was 1902, Tommy was twelve years old. He played with your older brother, they went out into the street with the Shelby brothers and few other boys from the neighborhood and kicked a ball around. You were eight, trailing your brother Joseph at every chance you had.

When you met Tommy, it was because you had chased after your brother one August afternoon with the intention to join their game of kickball. The moment you approached the large group of prepubescent boys, Joseph looked absolutely mortified. Even though he was older than some of the boys, at fourteen, he still followed all of Tommy’s orders. This, you didn’t understand.

“Go home,” he leaned down to your level in gritted teeth.

“I just want to play, just one game,” you pleaded with him. “Please, Joey.”

“No,” he barked. “Y/N, you gotta get out of here.”

Feeling your face heat up, you were near tears and embarrassed in front of all of the older boys. Joseph would not let up, angry at you for trying to play with him and his friends.

“What the fuck d’she want?” Arthur bellowed towards your brother.

Peering over at him, you could tell that he was not very patient and was even older than Joseph. After Arthur had yelled, you turned back to go home. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you shuffled back to where you lived and went inside to play alone.

“Fuckin’ asshole is what you are,” Tommy shook his head a bit. “Game’s not fuckin’ hard or anythin’, Joe. She could have played.”

That was all they ever said again on the matter, your brother never brought it up to you that night and you never spoke of it to him. It wasn’t until later on that month that anyone had approached you about what happened that day in Small Heath.

You were sent out to pick up your mother’s cigarettes, dragging your feet along the dirt path with the coin in your hand. Every Wednesday, you made the same trek. Tommy Shelby came up on your right side as you walked one day, you saw a screwdriver sticking out of his pocket and nearly shuttered. The kids around the neighborhood spoke of him in hushed whispers, calling him a gypsy and saying he and his brothers carried razor blades around with them.

“You’re Joe’s sister, aren’t you?” He asked, peering over at you. “Tried to join in on a game a while back?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

He hummed in response, kicking dirt with his shoe as you both walked. He was much taller than you, though he was still quite narrow and scrawny. Truthfully, there was no denying that you had a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on him.

“Where’re you headed?” He finally spoke up.

“Grabbing my mum’s cigarettes,” you told him with a sigh. “She sends me out every week to pick some up.”

At the time, you had no clue why Tommy had followed you all the way to the shop and then walked you home. He never gave you any inclination either. Then, he did the same the next week. He came outside when you passed his house and you walked together. This occurred every week after the first.

Of course, you assumed this meant he liked you and this caused you to revel in the attention just a little. Tommy would talk to you about school and horses mostly, he was kind to you.

About six months after you and Tommy had developed this weekly routine, you mentioned something to your brother about it and he teased you about having a crush on Tommy. Making the mistake of saying he must’ve liked you back if he continued to walk along with you, Joseph was quite cruel in return.

“He doesn’t do it because he likes to,” Joseph laughed. “Father started pestering me to walk with you when he found out you were being picked on in school, bothered and such by the boys around. I started to give Tommy a bit of my allowance to walk with you so dad would finally get off my fucking back.”

You no longer walked to the shops on Wednesdays.

Tommy waited for you the next week, but you never left out front and began past his house. The week after, he did the same and you still did not come.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice came up the staircase on Thursday morning. “Come to the door.”

Tommy stood there in the walkway to your home, talking with your mother about something as you came down the steps. She left you to walk outside together and down the stairs into the street.

“You’re not getting your mum’s cigarettes anymore?” He asked you suddenly.

“No, I am,” you told him. “Just don’t want to walk with you anymore.”

He seemed taken aback by this, not used to the idea of you sticking your nose up at him and looking the other way when he tried to talk to you. Tommy knew you were smitten with him, he didn’t mind it. He thought you were nice enough, he liked to walk with you every week. He just didn’t see you the same way that you saw him, you were too young and too curious about certain things.

“Why’s that?” He shot back a little annoyed.

“Joey told me that he’s been paying you to do it, to make sure nobody messes with me.”

“And?” Tommy asked. “Doesn’t really fuckin’ matter if you ask me, whether he’s payin’ me or not.”

This made you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him and leaning against the brick of one of the alleyways you walked down. Tommy was confused as to why this bothered you so much, truthfully it didn’t really matter about the money to him. It helped him to buy cigarettes, that was all. He didn’t mind walking along with you, though. He would’ve done it without the payout.

“It matters to me,” you told him. “I don’t need looking after or anything like that.”

Turning on your heel, you thought that you’d been able to get the last word. Little did you know, nobody but Tommy got the last word. He only realized you had decided to go out on Saturdays, rather than Wednesdays. He told Joseph that he wouldn’t be requiring payment anymore and you walked in silence for over a month before you spoke to him on your walks again.

His stubbornness irked you, leaving you infuriatingly mad at his inability to leave you alone. Your cheeks went hot when he came around, stomach in knots whenever he would say your name.

Over the years, you had tried to shake your feelings for Tommy. This was mostly due to the fact that you had grown attached in a way that allowed you to call him a friend. By the time you were eleven, Tommy had taught you how to ride his horse. He spent an entire summer working with you. He was fifteen and definitely had plenty of better things to do, but he spent hours upon hours in the grueling sun with you.

“Tommy,” you said, laying sprawled out on a patch of grass one afternoon when you were thirteen and he was seventeen. “D’you want to come ‘round to mine for supper tonight? Mum asked me to invite you over.”

The last bit was a lie, you truly just wanted Tommy to join you. He inhaled shortly before propping himself up on his hand and looking over at you.

“Can’t tonight, m’sorry,” he apologized to you.

“Why not?” You asked curiously, assuming he’d saying something about having to be with his brothers or Polly.

“I’ve actually asked a girl out,” he confessed to you. “I’m planning to take her out tonight.”

This was one of the few times Tommy discussed his love life with you. Your friendship mostly consisted of doing other things, less intrusive things. He still really saw you as a younger sister type of figure in a way. He thoroughly enjoyed your company, but there was no denying his attraction to the girls he saw in school.

Once, Tommy told you about Arthur bringing home a prostitute. He didn’t tell you why he did it, or what they did. Only laughed it off, unbeknownst to him that you really didn’t know what a prostitute was. Joseph had called them whores, but you lived a rather sheltered lifestyle and none of the older people around you ever spoke about such things in front of you.

Tommy took girls out, he’d had several girlfriends as you approached your later teenage years. Your friendship, however, never faltered. When you were seventeen years old, you remember going out riding with him and telling him how you wanted to make something of yourself beyond what Small Heath had to offer. Planning to become a schoolteacher, Tommy had always admired this about you.

“Don’t you want to be something other than all this?” You asked him, alluding to the fact that he was growing more and more responsible for the Peaky Blinders. “I mean, I just wondered if you ever had other dreams.”

“I’d like to work with horses,” he told you quietly, running his hands over the mare’s mane.

“Why don’t you?” You questioned him. “I know you feel some sense of responsibility over your family, I think it’s one of your best traits. Don’t you ever want to just—I don’t know, live a less tormenting life?”

Tommy played with the reins, looking at you and shrugging. This was all he’d ever known, and all he would ever know. There was no Birmingham without Tommy Shelby, you knew it as well as anyone. It still hurt, though. Knowing he was playing with fire every day, testing God, as your mother had called it.

Once Tommy had grown more involved in the gang, your parents no longer allowed him to come over to the house. They detested you seeing him at all, your brother most of all. He settled quickly, marrying a woman and starting a family.

Tommy realized he loved you when he was twenty two years old. He’d known you for ten years, having called you his best friend for a decade. You were eighteen years old and had just begun training to become a teacher, you were commuting frequently and saw Tommy less and less.

It was that Christmas when you’d introduced him to the man you had been courting, his name was Michael. When he shook the man’s hand, Tommy felt something inside of him shift. Suddenly, you were no longer that little girl with scuffed shoes and long pigtails. He saw a young woman with ambition and heart, but you were no longer holding out for Tommy like you had for nearly ten years.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Arthur came up and clapped Tommy on the back of the shoulder. “S’fucking Christmas and you’re really bringing my spirits down.”

Tommy said nothing, downing more whiskey as he watched Michael spin you around in a dance. You were in a fit of laughter, smiling at him adoringly.

“Be serious, brother,” Arthur sighed, drunk and wondering how Tommy could truly be as he was. “You can’t tell me that you’re sitting over here in the corner drinking away your sorrows because she’s brought along some bloke.”

“Fuck off, won’t you?” Tommy shot him a look.

“Unbelievable,” Arthur walked away laughing.

It was completely and utterly unbelievable, not only to Arthur, but to Tommy as well. He’d spent years with you, practically praying that you would find someone, anyone to avert your feelings too. As you grew older, you also were able to hide your feelings and emotions better in Tommy’s case.

He watched you the entire night, nodding a farewell when he noticed you trying to approach him. He had no intention of speaking to Michael again, for fear that he may be physically ill.

His hope that it was a passing courtship died with what looked to be your close friendship. The two of you hardly saw each other anymore, animosity forming between you after the night of the Christmas party.

Months later, Tommy found himself at your apartment door when Ada had told him that you mentioned thinking Michael was planning to propose. He left to see you after midnight, walking the entire distance to where you lived and putting himself at your front door well past one in the morning.

“Y/N,” he called out as he knocked. “It’s Tommy.”

Opening the door, you were only left in your nightdress. Your hair was down completely, something Tommy had not seen since you were some years younger. He could not help but to notice the sheer material of the fabric, the buds of your nipples showing through.

“Tommy?” You yawned. “What’re you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” he told you.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”

Ushering him in, you let him shut the door behind him and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Tommy felt himself growing hard, looking at you in such a state.

“Y/N, don’t marry him,” Tommy blurted out in almost a whisper.

“What?” You looked at him, shocked. “What did you say?”

“Don’t marry him, don’t marry Michael.”

There was a stillness to the room, a silence that made you almost sick. His face was somehow stoic, but pleading at the same time. His eyes bored into your own, as if they were making it impossible to get a word out.

“He is a good man, Tommy,” you said. “He wants to take care of me, to make me happy.”

“With plenty of money and security, with a practical occupation and a good legacy to leave your children?” Tommy asked, sarcasm incredibly evident.

“Yes, Tommy. Fuck, I mean is that what you want me to say? That he can give me a good life? Why should it matter if he’s got money?”

“It shouldn’t, not if you love him,” Tommy told you. “Do you?”

It felt as if you were eight years old again, confronting Tommy about why he was walking with you in the first place. He looked at you with such yearning, such longing. It was as if he was begging you not to say yes, pleading with you not to have already devoted your heart to this man.

There was only one truth of the matter. Thomas Shelby was the only man that you had ever loved.

“Tommy, I have only ever loved you since I was eight years old,” you whispered.

As if unable to hold back any longer, Tommy embraced you fully and brought you into his arms. He kissed you furiously, without any doubt or question that you were meant for him. He let his hands run up and down your back and pulled you into his body.

Before you gave into your urge to let him rip your sheer nightdress off of you, you pulled away with swollen lips and eyes full of desire. This was not right, not until you spoke to Michael. Regardless of how you felt for Tommy, you could not do this to Michael.

“Not yet,” you whispered. “I gave a man my word, I need to speak to him before I can go any further here.”

Tommy respected your choice, he knew you wouldn’t want disloyalty on your conscience. He just nodded his head and placed a hand on your cheek gently, it was in these moments that he forgot about everything else.

Michael didn’t take the news very well at all, his ego was bruised and he pleaded for you to reconsider. He told you how deeply he loved you and how you had led him on, making him believe that you two would have a life together. He was right, you had encouraged him in all of his dreams of your future and you had done it without ever considering how it may end. It was selfish.

It took you weeks before you agreed to see Tommy again after Michael had left you feeling so guilty. Nights of tireless sleep, you would look up at the sky and pray to god that you were making the right decisions.

Over a year into your training, you would soon be able to do what you’d always dreamt of. Dark times approached, though. There were ghosts of whispers at every street corner, they spoke of war so feverishly. It was as if death was due to knock at the doors of families, stripping women of their husbands and children of their fathers.

The thought of this had left Tommy quite stoic most of the time, he held a monotonous view on the entire matter. Every time you had brought it up to him, he told you how he would be expected to fight on behalf of his country if it came down to it.

And so he did, when it came down to it and Britain had joined the War—The Shelby brothers and hundreds of other men in Small Heath joined as well.

“Tommy,” I sniffled as I watched him from across his bedroom pack a small bag of things. “I need you to promise me that you’ll come home, that you won’t die out there. They’re saying things about trench warfare, it’s all really terrifying—”

Tommy crossed the room and took your face in his hands, kissing you hard on the lips, as if it was the last time he would ever do so. A piece of you wondered if he believed that he would die out there.

“Please come home,” you breathed.

“I will come home,” he kissed you again. “I promise you.”

You planned to hold him to this promise. Having waited ten years for Tommy Shelby, you would wait however long more so long as he would come home to you.

It took two months before his first letter would come after you watched him depart on that large ship. Long months of kneeling at the foot of your bed, begging god not to take Tommy. Everything that was being said about the war was absolutely tragic, soldiers being blown to pieces or rotting below the earth in the trenches.

My Dearest Y/N,

I wish I was able to write to you sooner, I cannot say where I am for the risk of interception. Just know that I have never been in such conditions in my life, I spend my days underground. I have taken the role of a tunneler. Trench warfare has not been good to any of us, I find myself fantasizing of the end of this long hell.

I stare at your picture every night before I shut my eyes, dreaming of what it would be like beside you. There is no greater sorrow to me than your absence from my life at this point in time. I can only hope that it will not be for long.

Not long ago, myself and a group of men were gassed. I watched a fellow soldier go blind for nearly three days before he finally came out of it, only with some permanent damage. There are times when I have thought to myself, ‘Perhaps if I was hit, it would not be so bad. Perhaps even death is better than fighting in this war’.

Then I think of you. I think of the promises I made to you before I left to fight in this god awful war. I cannot understand how men are expected to live like this, nor how we will continue on. I was up to my knees in water last week, the trenches dark and desolate as we waited for the storm to pass. There is so much waiting these days.

I look forward to your letter.

With all of my love,

Tommy Shelby

[icallhimjoey]

Prompt idea either for your current fic or a random one shot! Soft!Joey was VERY much not so soft Joey in your dream and you wake up in a STATE about it. Now real Joey needs to rectify his dream world bad behaviour. Angsty Smutty fluffy whatever you think is best.

Love your work!

me: save this for something longer also me: no the girlies need it right now Wordcount: 1.5K

---

Boy Of My Dreams

“Come here, baby.” 

Joe was there.

Right there where you'd left him, holding the covers open for you when he heard you turn off the lights in the bathroom. 

“I’m fine. Was just a dream.” you immediately said, curling back onto your spot, close to him, but your back turned.   

Joe’s eyes were still closed as his hands roamed until fingers trailed up your back to hold onto your neck. To feel some kind of closeness, the laziest way of comforting his girl after a nightmare.  

“Talk later?” 

But his question went unanswered. No confirmation, no dismissal, because either one didn’t feel right. You let the words float and hoped they would float away, real far, hoped they’d make real distance as you both fell back asleep.

Occasionally, you’d have a nightmare that would continue the story of a nightmare you’d had years earlier. A dream you couldn’t even remember, hadn’t consciously thought of since that one morning after you’d woken up from it, but somehow it still managed to store itself away inside your brain. Somewhere deep down, a place you couldn’t reach by yourself, just... lingering there for you to revisit in your sleep eventually.

It happened very rarely, but the second you’d wake up, you’d realise, fuck, this was that same fucking nightmare you had had ages ago.

When you hadn’t even known Joe yet.

Hadn’t even known of his existence, let alone would have known the lines of his face like the back of your hand.

The plush of his lips.

The scruff of his cheeks.

His chin.

The way your mind would hallucinate awful things in your sleep that would feel so vivid and so real was absolutely terrifying, but the addition of Joe’s face made everything so much worse.

Your unconscious mind could play tricks on you.

You knew this.

But in your sleepy haze, the feelings were real. The emotions right there.

And that man who’d scared you years ago in this same nightmare now wore a face that you recognised.

Logically you knew it was an addition.

Something new that hadn’t been there before.

There was no way you’d also dreamt about Joe all those other times - every person in a dream was someone you needed to have seen before, you knew.

But still.

The hand that held onto your neck was of little comfort, and you knew it was silly, but your body still flinched and moved away from the man in your bed because he didn’t feel safe right now.

You hoped Joe wouldn’t react to the quick pull away from him. To the little shimmy you did to duck into your pillow a bit more. But you felt how he raised his head off of his own, likely to see through a squinty eye if you were okay.

“I’ll have forgotten in the morning.” you quickly reassured with a whisper into the dark, and Joe decided he was too tired to get into anything right now anyway. He’d leave it to rest and hoped that you were right. That the next bit of sleep would make you forget about any horrors.

Except it didn’t.

It took you long to fall back asleep, and when you eventually did, you slipped right back into the same awful narrative.

It was why, not that long after you’d woken up that first time, you shook Joe awake. Leant over him, sort of sweaty, big wet eyes close to his face because, you just... you needed to check.

Had to see for yourself.

To see if his eyes were normal.

Joe roused awake, confused and definitely not as alert as you were.

“What?” Joe croaked, a little freaked out by the way you frowned in panic as you searched his eyes. He saw how yours flicked between his left and right.

Normal.

Joe’s eyes were their normal big brown beautiful kind soft ones. Bit tired. Definitely confused. But not the evil pitch black giant orbs you’d just dreamt of. You immediately relaxed and fell back onto your pillow, sighing with relief. This was definitely one of the weirdest most disturbing ways to be woken up before six o’clock.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked, voice still just as hoarse, as he turned his head to look at you stare up at the ceiling.

Why were you panting?

“Nothing. I... don’t worry, your eyes are normal.”

Just a dream. It was just a dream. Your nervous system just had to catch up to it.

“My eyes?” Joe was so confused. What the fuck were you talking about?

“You were...” you started, but shook your head instead of finishing the sentence. It was of no use explaining. Just a silly dream. “Never mind. Just...” you looked at the ceiling and even though it was dark, the rubbing of your eyes made you see spots for a second.

Joe watched as you gathered your thoughts for a second, and worry etched deeper into his features.

“Hey,” he whispered, concern thick in his voice, a hand reaching over that placed itself on your forehead. “I was what? What did I do?”

You then turned your head to look at him, moving Joe’s hand into your hair, and you immediately felt guilty. Joe looked far too bothered for your liking.

“Scary.” you admitted, scooting over closer to him. “But you’re not scary now. Was just a dream.”

For a second, that made Joe relax a little. You weren’t talking about him him, you were talking about whatever weird version of him you’d just dreamt about. One without normal eyes, apparently.

Joe accepted you into his arms as you cuddled up to him, finding his sleep warm body to curl yourself around, seeking closeness this time around, because Joe’s eyes were normal and comforting.

He was glad it had just been a dream.

But then, Joe’s thoughts caught up, and actually, Joe didn’t like that.

Joe didn’t like that at all.

Didn’t like how you dismissed a nightmare like it hadn’t affected you when it so very clearly had.

Didn’t like how hugging you tight also meant that he could feel how fast your heart was beating.

Didn’t like how, real or not, you’d been scared of him. Had felt real fear because of him.

He’d been the boy of your nightmare, and that was not okay.

“You had a nightmare about me?” Joe almost sounded hurt, voice small and soft. Like it was his fault that you were breathing the way you were right now. Like he had personally done you a great disservice.

Which wasn’t true, obviously.

It hadn’t actually been him.

“It wasn’t you.” you comforted, pressing your face into Joe’s neck, reminding yourself just as much as you tried convincing him.

“Hm?”

“Just looked like you.”

But that didn’t make it better. Not to Joe, anyway.

The way that you went from trying for a little distance before, to suddenly hiding yourself away into his skin didn’t sit right with him either.

“You okay?” he whispered, a hand trailing up your back as he asked it, ending at your neck where he held onto it like he’d done before.

“Mhm,” you confirmed, and took a big deep breath to hopefully slow your heartbeat down a little. “Need to calm down.”

“Do you want to talk about it? What did I do to you?” Joe didn’t wait for an answer to the first question. Just wanted to know how severe his crimes had been. How big his apology needed to be. How much he needed to comfort you.

But like before, when he’d suggested to talk later, you let the questions sit where they sat, and didn’t provide them with an answer at all. Instead, you just burrowed deeper. Pressed your nose into his skin a little harder. Hitched your leg over his thighs a little higher. Squeezed yourself around his middle a bit more.

Joe decided his crimes had been very severe. Maybe even life sentence sort of stuff. He tightened his arms around your frame, the hand on your neck letting its fingers slide into your hair a little.

“I’m sorry.” Joe murmured against your forehead.

That made your eyes water.

You didn’t want to talk.

That was okay.

Just needed comforting.

“You’re okay,” Joe whispered into your hair, answering his own earlier question. He placed a little kiss there too, eyes closed, determined to make you drift off back to sleep, and it made you whine.

“You’re safe,”you deserved more sleep, but nightmareless this time. No scary eyes.

“I’m here.” Joe squeezed tigther as he felt you relax. From the way you started matching your breathing to his, he knew it was working.

You could have a nice dream about him.

He could be the boy of your dreams. Good, postive, sweet ones.

“No one’s gonna hurt you. Go back to sleep. You’re safe. I’m here.”

The hand that held onto your neck was actually very comforting now, and your body fully relaxed into the man in your bed because; he was right.

No one was going to hurt you.

You were safe.

Joe was there.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[joeshiestyslover]

hotel room

pairing: cocky!joe burrow x reader

summary: you and joe have been hooking up for the past year, and joe wants to stop, but he just can’t and continues to string you along, so you make the choice for him

warnings: language, angst, slight smut

masterlist

part 2

a/n: i’m back???? also this is mad shitty, but it’s been a year, so i’m a bit rusty

the sound of your phone ringing is enough to wake you from your sleep. you roll over to face the nightstand and grab your phone. you check the time and it’s 3:13 am. who the fuck is calling me this late? you think. your question is answered when you check the caller id, joey<3 is in big white letters across the top of your phone screen.

“hello?” you answer. “you busy right now?” joe immediately asks. really? no greeting? “no joe of course i’m not busy at 3:15 in the morning.” “good. come over.” he demands. “didn’t you say the last time we did this that we couldn’t do it again?” you inquire. “i know what i said y/n. just one more time. please. i need you.” joe basically begs you. you sigh. “fine give me fifteen minutes.”

you slowly begin to get up from your bed and head to your bathroom. you brush out your hair and pull a claw clip from your drawer to put into your hair. you walk out of the bathroom and into your closet; you grab a pair of spandex booty shorts and an oversized tshirt. you find some socks and your air forces and slide them on your feet. you take one last look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing your phone, wallet, and keys and heading out the front door.

why do i do this to myself? you ask yourself every single time you leave to meet up with joe. you know how this ends; you hook up, he tells you it’s the last time, then you leave. it’s an endless cycle. he has you under his thumb, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape him.

the drive to joe’s place gives you the time to think about how you wound up here, driving in your car to go hook up with joe burrow.

you met joe at your friend’s bachelorette party which was at her favorite club. that night, joe was there with his teammates celebrating the bengals’ win against the chiefs. the moment he walked into the club his eyes were drawn to you immediately, and yours to his. about thirty minutes went by before he actually approached you.

you could feel the tension lingering in the air just begging to be released. joe asked you to go home with him and how could you say no? looking back on it now, you should have.

your thoughts are cut off by your phone ringing. you look at the caller id, and surprise surprise, it’s joe. “yes?” you answer. “where are you? you told me to give you fifteen minutes and it’s been twenty.” joe asks you. “joe i’m literally pulling up right now, calm down.” before he’s able to respond, you hang up and pull into his driveway.

you get out of your car and walk towards his front door, but before you can knock, the door swings open revealing a shirtless joe standing in front of you. you take a few seconds to admire him before he grabs your hand and pulls you into the house.

before you can even get a word in, he’s kissing you roughly, your tongues and teeth clashing together. “jump.” joe tells you breathlessly. you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, with his hand coming to rest on your ass. he begins to walk to his bedroom that you’ve become way too familiar with. joe kicks open the door and sits down on the bed, so you’re sitting in his lap. you mindlessly start to grind against his clothed cock.

joe breaks the kiss to look into your eyes. “you’re so beautiful, you know that?” he says to you, and you almost believe him. “joe please don’t say that.” “why not?” he asks you, confused. “because when you say things like that you make it so much harder to leave.” joe gives you a look you can’t decipher. “we both know you’re not gonna leave.” he smirks at you. “this is the last time joe i mean it. listen, there’s something i have to tell you.” you can’t look him in the eyes at this point. “what is it baby?” joe brings his hand up to hold your cheek. “i got a job offer in new york. it’s my dream job and it pays well, so i have to take it.”

joe stays silent for a few second before he moves you off of him so he can stand up. “so you’re leaving? just like that? you’re gonna throw everything we have away?” he says while beginning to pace back and forth. “everything we have? joe we’re fuck buddies! that’s all we are and that’s all we’ll ever be!” you raise your voice at him. “if you think we’re just fuck buddies then you’re fucking blind y/n!” “how am i blind joseph? please enlighten me!” you spit at him. “have you not noticed that every time you come over, i try to convince you to stay? i’ve offered to make you dinner, i’ve asked you to be with me on valentine’s day, i’ve tried everything to make you see that i’m in love with you!” the moment those words leave his mouth, you freeze. “you’re what?” “i’m in love with you y/n. i have been since the night i met you. every time you leave, i get this feeling that i hate. i don’t wanna be away from you.” he tries to step closer to you, but you don’t let him. “joe, no. don’t do this. don’t say you love me; we both know you don’t mean it. you’re only saying this because you don’t wanna lose the only girl that will be at your beck and call whenever you please.” you can feel the tears prickling at your eyes.

“what? no y/n. i love you. i really do. please stay in ohio, and let me prove it to you.” he begins to beg. “joe i can’t. we both know that we wouldn’t work. i’m sorry i can’t do this.” you stand up from his bed and walk out of his bedroom. you can hear joe’s footsteps following behind you. “y/n please don’t leave.” you don’t respond and continue walking towards his front door, but before you can open it, joe’s hand is on the doorknob. “don’t do this. don’t take that job. stay here with me, just give this a chance. please.” you find the courage to look up, and you see a tear going down his cheek. “joey listen, if you had told me this a long time ago, i would have given us a chance, and i wouldn’t take the job. it’s too late for us. i’m sorry joe, but i have to go.” he says nothing and lets go of the doorknob. you open the door and begin walking towards your car. the moment you get in and lock your doors, you break down. of course you’re in love with joe, but this is your dream job. you can’t let anything or anyone stand in the way of that, not even joe. you compose yourself and put your car into drive, not looking back. deep down you know you’ve made the right choice, but you can’t help but think about what could’ve been.

[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 12

Series Masterlist

➪in which you and clay spend some much needed alone time together, and you find out some scary things that come with falling in love with him.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5.4k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.8K FOLLOWERS

Clay was in a significantly better mood now that he fixed things between you and him, and he was making damn sure to not have a third fuckup any time soon. 

He was lucky to have had you forgive him twice already, he was sure he was on thin ice with you by this point. Now that you and he had talked things through, he was determined to prove to you that he was all in with you. 

His mother had just left with Joey, and Clay already missed his kid more than he thought he would in so little time. 

But you were already on your way over. 

Clay had texted you and asked if you wanted to spend the weekend with him since the house would be empty, and he felt like he needed to make up for the time he spent away from you during the week while you were pissed at him. 

Your instant response of ‘YES’ had him feeling like a fucking teenager again who had just invited his crush over, but he was pushing twenty eight, and you were his girlfriend. 

He spent a good portion of his morning tidying up the already spotless house and trying to think of ways he could make this weekend as casual yet romantic as possible. As he was tidying up the kitchen counters, he remembered watching the maids his mom hired when he was younger clean up, and then he realized they only stopped once he brought Joey home. How privileged can one guy, no, one family be?

Just as he heard you call out to him from downstairs, informing him of your arrival, his phone went off with an incoming call from Jack, his friend and doctor that saved his life when he had his heart attack a few years back. Clay sighed and quickly walked over to the top of the stairs, calling out, “Up here,” before he answered his phone. 

“Clay, good to hear your voice, buddy,” Jack said in his usual cheerful voice as Clay leaned against the banister. 

“Hey, Jack,” he greeted just as you reached the top of the stairs and saw that he was on the phone, your overnight bag slung over your shoulder making him smile. Your brows rose and you brought a finger up to your lips, signaling that you would be quiet as you walked over to him and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m just calling to make sure you’re still coming by on Monday for a checkup,” 

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” Clay answered, snaking his arm around your waist when you began to pull away. He tugged you back to him and held you against his chest as he continued. “I actually have company right now, is that all you needed?”

“Company?” Jack laughed and Clay could hear the squeak of his doctor’s office chair in the background. “I thought Mrs. Beresford was away with the youngest this weekend.”

“She is,” Clay confirmed, looking down at you with a smirk as you stared up at him, waiting for him to finish his call. “It’s a different kind of company, Jack.”

“Oh, I see,” Jack mumbled. “I’ll let you go then. See you on Monday, Clay.”

Clay was already pulling the phone away from his ear as he muttered, “Yeah, see you then,” and ended the call. He slipped his phone into his pocket and wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you right up against him as he finally greeted you. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” you laughed, bracing your hands on his chest. “Who was that?”

“My doctor,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. 

He saw the way your eyes widened slightly as you pulled back. “Your doctor? Why was he calling? Is everything okay?”

Clay laughed quietly and felt a warmth take over his body at how concerned you sounded. “Everything’s fine, baby,” he rasped, watching as your shoulders dropped in relief. “I have a checkup on Monday after Joey goes to school.” 

You nodded, smoothing out his t-shirt. “Got it,” 

He hummed, leaning down to kiss you softly, feeling the way your fingers immediately bunched up his shirt and made it wrinkled again. “Do you want to come with me?”

You pulled back again, your brows furrowing slightly. “To your appointment?”

“Yeah,” Clay nodded, gripping your waist. “I’ll have the rest of the day to myself until Joe comes home.” 

You pressed your lips together and slid your hands higher up until you were holding onto his shoulders. “Oh, well in that case,” you trailed off, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “Yes, I want to come with you.”

Clay grinned down at you and bumped your nose with his again before kissing you deeply. You hummed against his lips as he took your bag from you and slung it over his own shoulder, then you were pulling away with a pretty smile. “I’ll take this upstairs,”

“Are you going to put it in the guest room?” You teased, leaning against the wall opposite of the banister as he walked around you. 

Clay paused on the second step, matching your smirk as he braced one hand on the railing. He remembered the first night you stayed here and how you slept in the guest room, and then he remembered the one night you slept with him in his bed after he picked you up, and his smirk grew. “If you want to sleep in there, sure,” he answered, walking up a few more steps. “But my bed is comfier. You know that.”

You smiled and looked down. “Have you eaten today?”

“Uh, no,” he answered, pausing his ascent again. “I spent most of my morning cleaning.”

“I can tell,” you laughed, looking around the second floor hallway. “It looks great in here. And you know what? For all your hard work, I’m going to make you lunch.”

Clay smiled and shook his head. “You don’t have to do that, baby,”

“I want to, and I am going to. Jess told me this really good sandwich recipe she has at the cafe, and it’s all I’ve been craving recently,” you said, pushing off the wall and beaming up at him. “So I’m going to make it for you. You’ll like it, I promise.” 

“I like anything you make,” Clay murmured and you grinned before turning and making your way towards the kitchen. He shook his head again before finally walking up to the third floor and going right past the guest room door and towards his. 

He set your bag down on the edge of his bed, doing a quick scan of his room to make sure there was nothing that resembled Sam - even though he knew there wasn’t - before heading back downstairs. 

When he walked into the kitchen, he found you sitting at the table with two plates in front of you. You hadn’t touched yours, which made a dumb smile form on his face as he moved to sit down next to you. “That was fast,” 

You shrugged, pushing the second plate towards him. “You have to be fast if you work at Jess’,” 

Clay nodded in understanding, and he noticed how you still hadn’t eaten anything and were probably waiting for him to take the first bite, so without another word, he picked up the perfectly made sandwich and bit into it. 

“So?” You asked, not even three seconds after he began chewing, nervously sliding your plate closer to you. 

He laughed, waiting until he swallowed to answer you. “You were wrong, I don’t like it,” he started, smirking at the way your face dropped a bit. “I love it. Best thing I’ve eaten all month.”

You reach over and lightly smack him on the shoulder, letting out an amused scoff. “Don’t mess with me like that,” you scolded, but he knew you didn’t mean it. One of his favorite things about you was how easily you and he got along, and how you were able to tease each other like this from day one.

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, setting the sandwich down as he looked over at you with a small smirk. 

“No you’re not,”

“No, I’m not,” he replied immediately and you both looked at each other for a few seconds before he was moving his chair back and you were out of yours. You settle on his lap, your food long forgotten as you grip the sides of his face and press your lips to his. Clay leaned back against the chair as his hands grab your waist, leaning up to deepen the kiss while you moan softly against his mouth. “I missed you.”

You smile, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You just saw me yesterday after work,” you teased, brushing your nose against his. “But I guess I missed you, too.” 

Clay grinned, sliding his hands up your sides. “You just miss my kid and my fridge,” 

A blush took over your face as you bit down on your lip. “It’s your fault for having such a cute kid and immaculate taste in diet soda,” you beamed then your eyes trailed over to the dining room table. Clay knew what you were looking at, but he still followed your gaze anyway. “Wow…that’s a pretty rose, Mr. Beresford.” 

Clay laughed, squeezing your hips and helping you stand up. “I’m glad you think so,” he murmured, standing up as well before walking over to the bigger table and picking up the single rose. “It’s for you.”

Your blush deepened as you took it from him. “Clay,” you said quietly, bringing the rose up and inhaling the fresh scent. “I love it…it reminds me of…” 

Clay watched as your eyes widened slightly and you moved closer to him. “Reminds you of what?”

Your eyes darkened a bit as you answered, “Reminds me of when we went to Times Square and I told you that story about my neighbors and the roses,” 

Clay’s brow curved up and he shrugged. “I vaguely remember that,” he lied, obviously, too. Of course he remembered the story about Mark and Cindy, and he especially remembered how happy you got when you told him. And maybe he wanted to be the Mark to your Cindy for a day and give you a rose when you got here. 

You shake your head, letting him take the rose again and set it down on the table as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Then you were leaning up to kiss him, trailing your fingers through his hair as his arms wrapped around your waist. “Thank you for the rose,” you mumbled against his lips, tugging at the hair on the back of his neck as he gripped the backs of your thighs. “And for thinking of me.”

“I’m always thinking about you,” he confessed as he brushed his lips along your pulse point. “You and Joey, all the time.”

You let out a soft whimper as he lifted you up and placed you on the table next to the rose. “I’m so glad I have no sense of direction,” you laughed quietly, caressing his face as he thought back to when he met you; when you spilled your coffee all over his shirt and then bombed your interview at that hotel, giving him the perfect opportunity to have you be around him almost daily. 

“Me too,” he rasped, bunching up your shirt in his hands as he leaned back up to kiss you. “Who knew ruining a two hundred dollar shirt would end up being the start of something so good.”

You pull back after only letting him kiss you for a second, your eyes wide as you grab onto his shoulders. “That shirt was two hundred dollars?!” You asked in disbelief, making the corners of his lips turn upwards. 

“Around there,” he nodded, “Yeah.”

“Clay!” You gasped, tightening your hold on him. “Now I feel even worse! You have to let me pay for it.”

Clay laughed, shaking his head as he began placing kisses along your collar bones. “It happened weeks ago, baby,” he murmured. “Trust me, with all you’ve done for me and Joey, it’s already more than paid off.” 

Another pretty blush took over your face as you massaged the sides of his neck with your thumbs. “Are you sure? Now that I’m working at Jess’, I can-”

Clay cut you off with a quick kiss to your lips, shaking his head once he pulled away. “I’m positive,” he said, “Now can we go back to eating? Then maybe we can pick this up?”

You smirk and nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he helped you down from the table. “Sure, though maybe not on the dining room table?” You laughed as he led you back towards the kitchen after you picked up the rose again. “As nice as it is…it’s not the most comfortable thing.”

“Of course, babe,” he grinned, sitting back down at the smaller table, and he was once again reminded of how privileged he really is. 

-

Instead of going back to your makeout session on the table, Clay guided you towards the living room. 

You weren’t complaining; you had a strange infatuation with the living room ever since you had your first kiss with him in there. You also spent most of your time with Joey in there when you were watching him, so it was definitely your favorite room in a house full of rooms. 

It was nearing six in the evening and Clay offered to put a movie on so you both could unwind from the past work week. Since you picked the last one, you told him to choose one as you got the pillows and blankets sorted on the couch. 

He was crouched down and rummaging through the cabinet of DVD’s you shamelessly organized one night when you were babysitting Joey as you sat down on the couch and looked at the coffee table. There were cards scattered on it, some overturned and showing off someone’s impressive hand, and you bit your lip as you glanced over at your boyfriend. “Hey, Clay,” you laughed, leaning back against the couch. 

“Yeah, babe,” he called back, looking over his shoulder at you. 

You gestured to the table, “You play often?”

Clay furrowed his brows, turning back to the cabinet and grabbing something before standing up. When he caught sight of the cards, he laughed. “Oh, yeah,” he answered, walking over and putting the disk in the DVD player. “My mom and I do. Well, she plays, I lose.”

You let out a laugh, draping a blanket over your lap as you look up at him. “That’s adorable,”

Clay shook his head and you could’ve sworn you saw a faint blush spread across his face. “We played for a bit before bed last night,” he said, leaning over to pile the cards in a stack. “I can’t believe I cleaned every inch of this place but managed to forget about the coffee table.”

“It’s alright, I think the spotlessness of every other inch makes up for it,” you teased, reaching for the bowl of popcorn you made after the very late lunch. 

“As long as you’re impressed by it,” he grunted, setting the card stack in the middle of the coffee table before leaning back and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 

“It doesn’t take much,” you admitted, looking up at the TV. “What movie did you pick?”

As soon as you asked that, the menu for Twisters came onto the screen. “I hope you like disaster movies,” Clay grinned over at you. “If I have to watch one more Disney movie, I might never watch anything else again.”

You laughed, leaning into his side. “How many Disney movies does Joey make you watch?” 

Clay huffed, “Too many,” and pulled you closer to him. “But I wouldn’t trade those moments in for anything.”

A smile formed on your face and you pressed your cheek against his bicep. “You’re so sweet, Clay,” you whispered, lacing your fingers with his as the opening scene of the movie started. “Watching you and Clay together…it just makes me feel things. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Clay pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m the same way when I get to come home early and see you and him together, too,” he confessed. “Joey never really had someone other than my mom and I in his life. He’s so used to us, he never really gets to be around other people. That’s another reason I’m glad he’s in school now.”

You blushed, laying your head against his chest. “Having you be the main person in his life doesn’t seem too bad,” you teased. 

Another kiss was pressed to your head, followed by a quiet laugh. “You’re sweet,” 

It was nearing the end of the movie when you shifted and cuddled closer to Clay’s side. He wasn’t in his usual attire of a suit, he was clothed in sweats and a t-shirt, and you were feeling the same way you felt the night he picked you up from Hanson’s. 

You wanted him. 

But exactly how much could you have of him? You weren’t entirely sure, but there was no harm in asking. 

You knew about his heart condition, but you didn’t know the full extent of it. 

When the last scene of the movie began, you moved to sit back against the couch, putting some space in between the two of you. Clay’s eyes drifted from the screen and over to you, his arm loosening around your shoulders. “Everything okay?” 

You nodded, playing with the corner of the blanket you and he were sharing. “Of course,” you trailed off, turning to face him. “Can I be nosey?”

Clay’s mouth turned upwards and he turned to you as well. “Always,”

You smiled at that, leaning your head against the top of the backrest. “Your heart condition…how bad is it?” 

Instead of him getting defensive about it or shutting down the topic, he took your hand in his. “About as bad as a heart condition can be,” he answered, his thumb tracing the back of your hand. “I’m on a transplant list, but it’s been years now. I got on it when I had my heart attack.”

His words leave you speechless for a second as you process them, your face quickly beginning to heat up. “You…you had a heart attack?” You asked in a whisper, your hold on his hand tightening. “When?”

“When I was twenty,” he rasped, shifting closer to you. 

You swallowed, looking down at your joined hands. “What happened? Did something trigger it?”

“It was sudden, nothing really happened to trigger it,” he said quietly. “I was told when I was a teen that having one was really likely, but I wasn’t prepared for it to happen a few years later.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but stopped himself short. You didn’t know if you wanted him to continue since your body was already on fire and your hands were shaking. But you also wanted to know everything you possibly could know about him and his condition. “What are you not telling me?”

“Baby,” he trailed off, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “In the hospital, my heart stopped and I died for a few minutes.”

“Clay,” you gasped, holding onto his hand even tighter. You hadn’t realized just how serious it actually was. He died. You felt like you were going to be sick as you used your grip on his hand to keep yourself grounded, despite the fact that you were already sitting. “Oh, my God.”

“I know,” he whispered, letting you cling onto his hand. “It’s scary. A few years later I had Joey, and then Sam left, and I nearly had another one because of the stress I felt with her being gone. I guess that’s why my mom is so protective of me…it was a hard time for her. I don’t think she’s fully moved past it yet.”

You nodded in understanding, pressing the back of his hand against your cheek. “Thank you…for telling me,” 

Clay frowned a bit as he ran his knuckles along your cheekbone. “I don’t want this to change anything, okay? I don’t want you to think I’m just waiting around to…you know,” he mumbled and you were glad he didn’t finish that sentence. “I’m okay for now, and there’s nothing anyone can do to change that until they find me a donor.” 

You nod again, looking up at him with a guarded expression. “Okay…”

“I mean it,” he stated, “What you and I have…it makes me forget about all of it. Joey and my mom, too. I don’t want to be just another sick person, and I don’t want that to be what you see me as. So please, don’t treat me differently now that you know everything.”

You bite down on your lip and nod slowly, looking down at your hands as you run your thumb along his fingers. “I won’t,” you whisper, hoping you could stay true to your word. “I promise, I won’t.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, bringing his other hand up and caressing your jaw. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Raising your brow, you give him a pointed look. “Unlikely,”

Clay huffed out a laugh, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your mouth. “I’m fine,” he promised, tugging at your bottom lip with his thumb. 

You believed him, “Okay,” and then you were kissing him again, but a lot more gently than you have in the past. You knew you were already breaking your promise to him, but you couldn’t help it. The chance of him having another heart attack and surviving was extremely unlikely, even you knew that, and you refused to be witness to it. 

But Clay wasn’t easily fooled. “Babe,” he groaned, pulling away and giving you a stern look. “Baby, you don’t have to treat me like glass. I told you, I’m fine.”

“But-”

“Nothing,” he cut you off, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “But nothing. I can handle my mom treating me like I’m broken, but not you…not you.”

You hold back another complaint and nod, and he gave you a look that told you he didn’t fully believe you. Without another word, he pulled you onto his lap and held you against his chest. “Clay-”

“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ve told you everything you should know, and I’m trusting that it won’t change anything between us,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing along your neck. 

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling the worry and fear begin to fade away. What replaced it was an undying want and need for the man you’ve grown to care so much about. The man you were sure you’re falling completely in love with. “I just…I like you, so much.” He didn’t need to know that your fondness for him had grown tremendously since the day you met him. 

Clay hummed, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I like you, too. So much,” he said, and you were given no choice but to believe him. You shared a look, one that showed how much you both wanted each other. Perhaps even needed. Clay’s expression softened and his hands caressed either side of your face, “Do you want this?”

You swallowed and slowly nodded, reaching up to hold onto his wrists. “But if you can’t-”

Clay cut you off with a kiss this time, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. “I think we both know that I can,” he grinned and you felt your face heat up in a blush as you realized that he definitely can since he ended up being a father at twenty two.

“Right,” you muttered, a bit embarrassed now. 

But Clay just laughed, holding you close to his chest as he stood up. “Right,” then he was carrying you towards the stairs while the end credits for the movie played.

-

Clay felt like he was shaking as he carried you into his room and gently set you down on his bed. 

He hadn’t been intimate with someone since Sam, and that was quite a few years ago now. He never felt the desire or want to until he met you, and suddenly all he wanted was to feel that sense of closeness, both physically and emotionally. 

Clay turned around and closed the door out of habit, and when he looked at you again, you had kicked your leggings off, leaving you in just your panties and shirt. His hands were shaking a bit as he pulled off his tee, and he tossed it aside to find later as he crawled onto the bed and hovered over you. “I’m gonna ask one more time,” he whispered, bracing his elbows on either side of your head. “Do you want this?”

Your eyes were wide and needy as you nodded up at him, your hands sliding up his chest. “I want this,” you said back, “I want you.”

Clay smiled down at you, leaning in to brush his nose against yours before kissing you deeply. “You’re perfect,” he mumbled, kissing down your neck as his hands played with the hem of your shirt. “Anyone ever told you that?”

He almost didn’t believe you when you slowly shook your head, but you never gave him a reason not to believe you, so he wasn’t going to start now. “No,” you answered as he tugged the thin material of your shirt up your body. “Never.”

Clay’s eyes darkened a bit at both the sight of your exposed stomach and your words. “What kind of boys have you been with before this, baby?” He teased, watching as a pretty blush took over your features. 

“They’re not important,” you mumbled, lifting your body so he could pull your shirt the rest of the way off. 

“That’s right,” he praised, his eyes raking over your lace covered chest. “They’re not important.”

His fingers played with the straps of the pretty, light blue bra you were wearing, his eyes damn near the same shade as the material. You moaned softly as he stared down at you. “They’re not you,” 

Clay’s eyes flickered up to meet yours as he reached around you and unclasped the lacy fabric and slid it down your arms. “No, they’re not,” he hummed in agreement, dropping your bra to the floor as he pressed kisses down your chest. Your hands tangled in his hair as his moved up to grope your soft breasts, his lips peppering kisses all over you. 

“Clay,” you moaned, pulling softly on his hair. “I need you.”

Your words, the beautiful things they were, had him growing hard for you, and he slid his hands down your body as he leaned in and kissed you deeply. “Say that again,” he nearly begged, running his fingers along the waistline of your white, but equally as lacy panties. 

You oblige instantly, “I need you,” and reach for his sweats. “Please.”

Truthfully, Clay needed you just as badly, if not more. 

He would’ve spent his time with you, but he couldn’t handle much more either. Four years without touching someone will do that to you. 

Clay pushed the lace down your legs, his fingers slowly dipping into you as you worked on ridding him of his sweats and boxer briefs. You were wet, and took his fingers eagerly as you moaned his name and returned your hands to his hair. “Please,” you begged again. “Please please…please.”

He groaned, pulling his hand away from you. “Okay, baby,” he rasped, reaching for his nightstand. “Just let me get-”

“We don’t need one,” you quickly say, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “My last boyfriend was when I was nineteen, and I’m not the kind of girl to sleep around. I’m clean, I promise.”

Clay’s eyes darkened even more as he settled back down on top of you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you answer, biting down on your lip as you grab hold of his shoulders. “Unless you want to use one…that’s okay, too. I don’t know when your last relationship was.”

“Yeah, you do,” he laughed quietly, reaching down to hike one of your legs around his waist. 

Your eyes widened a bit, “She was your last? Like, the last person you-”

“Yeah,” he answered, resting his forehead against yours. “She was my last. I never felt the need or want to be with someone else after. Then I met you.”

Your expression softened and you wrapped your leg tight around him, giving him the silent signal to take that final step. “Clay…” you trailed off, parting your lips to say more as he slowly pushed into you. Your words die on your tongue as you moan against his lips when he leaned down to kiss you, and the tightness of your body as his eyes squeezing shut. 

He braced his forearms next to your head as he pulled out halfway, only to bury himself back in. A deep groan left his mouth as you took each thrust, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you tilt your head back. “You feel so good,” he praised, pushing his face against the side of your neck as he began to rock into you. “So good.”

You moaned softly, wrapping your other leg around his waist. “Clay…oh, my God,”

He grunted, kissing along your neck as he started to move faster, almost as if he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t as fragile as people say he is. His heart was weak, but that was the only part of him that was. “Baby,” 

Your eyes roll back as you drop your head against his pillow. ���Clay, you feel so good…I knew it,” you gasped quietly, holding onto him tightly. “I knew you would. I knew it would feel so good with you.”

And somehow he knew it, too. “Yeah?” He breathed out, feeling the way you clenched tightly around him. “You’ve been thinking about this?”

He thought the way he added a teasing edge to his voice would make you blush again, but you just nodded shamelessly. “All the time,” you admitted and he groaned quietly, his jaw going slack as he thrusted into you a bit harder. “God, Clay, I want you all the time.”

He’s been thinking about you, too, and you were even better than he thought you would be, if that is even possible. He was convinced no one has ever felt better than you, but he had no plans to further test that theory out.

“Fuck,” he moaned, reaching for your hand. He laces his fingers with yours and pins them to the pillow beside your head, leaning down to kiss you. You whimpered against his mouth and the sound only made him want to keep going and make you forget all about the guys you were with before. The ones that didn’t deserve you. 

Clay wasn’t usually a jealous guy, but he was sure that would change in no time, as long as he stayed with you. 

“Oh, God,” you moaned, pulling away from the kiss with swollen, wet lips as you buried your face against his shoulder. “I’m close.” You said it with a bit of disbelief in your voice, making him believe that he was the first one to bring you to the edge this quickly. 

To be fair, you were both pent up with desire and want for each other, and a few days ago, Clay was sure he would have never gotten to experience this with you because of the picture you found. 

But here you were, whining and writhing beneath him and letting him hear all the pretty and perfect sounds that came from your lips. 

“Please,” you begged. “Don’t stop…I’m so close.”

Clay continued to roll his hips into yours, and soon enough you were moaning loudly, your fingers grabbing onto his hair and your back arching off the bed. “There you go,” he muttered, watching your face as you came undone for him. He felt his own release creeping up on him, and he managed to find enough control to be able to ask, “Where…where can I..”

You whined, brushing your lips against his ear as you answered, “Inside…don’t stop,”

Clay squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a deep groan, his pace faltering as he came. “Oh, fuck…baby,” he huffed, burying his face against your neck as he wrapped you up in his arms. 

You moaned quietly, running your fingers through his hair as he rolled you onto your sides. “Are you okay?” You asked in a soft voice, trailing your hands down to his neck. 

Clay let out uneven breaths as he nodded, taking your hand in his and looking down at you. “I’m okay,” 

“You promise?” You ask again, tangling your legs with his. He leaned in and brushed his lips against yours before pulling away and nodding, a lazy smile on his lips as he held you close. 

“I promise,”

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: New Year’s Day*

————————————————————————-

Summary: After a day of misfortune, Joe wants more than just a kiss to ring in the new year…

Warnings: Smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Just the Two of Us

————————————————————————-

December 31, 2023

(y/n’s pov)

I should've known the night would go the way it did.

It seemed like today, the universe was just not on my side. Earlier, when I was getting ready, the zipper broke on my new dress so I had to wear an old one. My curling iron quit working. I lost one of my earrings that Joe had bought me for Christmas.

The worst part was when Joe and I finally arrived at the New Year’s party at Sam’s house. Joe had just grabbed us both a drink from the makeshift bar Sam had set up in his kitchen. When he handed me my drink, I spilled it all down my cream-colored dress.

“It’s fine, baby.” - Joe

We were currently in the guest bathroom; I told Joe he didn't have to come with me, but he knew that was me asking him to follow me to the bathroom.

“No, it's not! There's wine all down my white dress!” - you

“Hey, calm down.” - Joe

His soft voice, which would usually calm me down, was only pissing me off more.

“Joe, just stop talking! You aren't helping.” - you

“Okay then. What can I do to help?” - Joe

“Go away.” - you

“Honey…” - Joe

I shot him a look that had him dropping his head and exiting the room.

Fuck, this is only making things worse. Sure my day isn't going the greatest but why'd I have to project that onto Joe?

The thoughts of everything that had gone wrong today mixed with the picture of Joe’s sad expression after I told him to leave, and before I knew it, tears were flowing out of my eyes.

——

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the bathroom door. I didn't answer because you'd be able to hear the fact I was crying in my voice.

I stupidly left the door unlocked, so when the door handle turned, I panicked.

My shoulders dropped in relief when Joe walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Watching his eyes scan my tear-stained cheeks, Joe’s gaze softened, and he rushed to pull me into his arms.

“Hey, hey, it's okay.” - Joe

I buried my face in his neck as Joe ran a big hand over my back, the other holding the back of my head.

“What’s wrong, baby? Just the dress, or is something else going on?” - Joe

“Today's not been a good day.” - you croaked

“I'm sorry… anything I can do?” - Joe

“Just be here.” - you

I cuddled myself into him more, internally laughing at myself for contradicting my statement just ten minutes ago.

“Jess let me borrow a dress from her closet. I grabbed one that I thought you would like and be comfortable in.” - Joe

Jess, Sam’s girlfriend, was a saint for that. I'll have to bake her some cookies as a thank you.

“Thank you.” - you

His sweet gesture somehow only made me cry harder, and regret for how I acted toward him earlier flooded my head.

“Why are you crying harder?” - Joe

“Because I was mean to you earlier.” - you

Joe’s laugh moved his chest, causing my head to shake with it.

“It's okay. I promise. I didn't take it to heart because I knew you were just not having a good day.” - Joe

“Good.” - you sniffled

“I love you.” - Joe

He pressed a big but gentle kiss to my hair, and I felt a smile spread on my lips.

“I love you too.” - you

We stayed intertwined for a few moments before Joe eventually pulled away.

His hands stayed on my waist, and in one swift motion, he sat me on top of the counter.

“Want me to fix your makeup a little?” - Joe

“Please?” - you

Joe rummaged through the cabinets till he found something that looked like it could take mascara stains off. It ended up being a makeup remover, thank god.

With my guidance, Joe got my makeup to look like it somewhat did before. While doing so, Joe whispered sweet nothings that had me forgetting all about today’s misfortune.

All that mattered was our moment together in our friend's bathroom. My time with this man.

I pulled out my phone from my dress pocket to change into the one in Joe’s hand and saw the time in the process.

“It's 11:45!” - you

“Gotta hurry then.” - Joe winked

After playfully shoving his chest, I bunched up the fabric of my dress and pulled it over my head.

Joe silently licked his lips before his mouth dropped open, his eyes never once leaving my body.

I was kinda confused as to why he was reacting in such a way when I got a glance of myself in the mirror.

My lace black bra matching the tiger-striped thong made from the same material. Joe had put it in the bottom of my Chrismas stocking, but I hadn't worn it yet.

“Holy fuck.” - Joe groaned

Maybe I should tease him?

“Shit, I got wine on my bra too…” - you

I unclipped the garment and pulled it off my arms, revealing my bare chest.

“Baby, stop teasing.” - Joe

His voice had dropped down an octave, gaining a whiney tone in the process.

“I'm not trying to do shit, Burrow. Control yourself.” - you

I scrubbed the bra and dress vigorously, Joe clearly ogling my bouncing breasts.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Joe reach down to his crotch to rearrange his forming erection.

“y/n…” - Joe

“What?” - you

I looked at him through the mirror to see his pouty lips and tented jeans.

“Make it quick, I wanna see the ball.” - you

Joe lept forward and grabbed my waist, pulling me into his arms and carrying me into the guest bedroom.

He laid me down on the bed and ran over to the door to lock it before returning.

My first orgasm came fast and hard, Joe using his talented mouth and fingers to quickly bring me to release as breathy moans of his name left my lips.

“God, I need inside you.” - Joe

The digital clock on the nightstand read 12:50.

“Make it quick, Joseph Lee. I don't wanna miss the ball.” - you

Joe stood up and pulled his shirt over his head before shoving his sweatpants and undies down to mid-thigh.

“I'll show you two balls.” - Joe

His attempt at “sexy talk” had me busting out laughing.

“Stop! I'm trying to be sexy here!” - Joe

“Boy, you don't have to try. Just get on top of me.” - you

Joe did as I said and crawled on top of me, his big body equal parts hot and overwhelming.

“You want me?” - Joe

He grabbed his erection and ran his tip through my slick folds. Joe’s eyes were blown wide with lust, his deep voice intoxicating.

“Fuck yes.” - you

With that confirmation, Joe slammed his entire length inside. Both of us moaned as my walls clamped down on his lengthy member.

“You're soaked. So fucking tight.” - Joe

“You can move.” - you breathed out

Joe nodded and immediately set a fast pace. His only thought in mind was my pleasure.

“Feel good?” - Joe

“Joe!” - you moaned

“Mm? Does it? You like it?” - Joe

Moan after moan left my lips, Joe wasn't slowing down either, and his tip was abusing my cervix.

“Yes!” - you

Joe looked down and watched his thick cock move in and out of my heat, feeling himself get closer to release.

Wrapping my legs around Joe’s waist to allow him to get deeper, his eyes met mine, and a shiver went down my spine at the look in them.

“Wish I could stay inside you forever.” - Joe

His dirty praise had me inadvertently arching up into his chest, Joe didn't mind though, he thought the opposite.

“Fucking love you.” - Joe

I got too distracted by the sound of our friends downstairs to return the sentiment. Seems like we were getting closer to the new year.

Joe noticed my attention falling somewhere else and a weird feeling fell over him. Is she not enjoying this?

“Why are you listening to them?” - Joe panted

“I- dunno.” - you

“Listen to us, baby. Fuck, you can hear how wet you are.” - Joe moaned

His statement elicited a moan out of me that I swore came from my toes.

“Joey, fuck.” - you

If it was even possible, Joe moved his mouth closer to my ear, whispering anything he could think of that would drive me wild.

“Listen to my cock move inside you, y/n.” - Joe

“I'm- gonna… cum!” - you

“Atta girl, pay attention to me.” - Joe

My walls were repeatedly squeezing Joe’s cock, each time drawing a small moan from his lips.

“Feels so good.” - Joe groaned

I let out a borderline scream when Joe began sucking on the sweet spot on my neck while rubbing my clit with his thumb.

The sounds of skin slapping skin, along with the wet sounds of Joe moving in and out, seemed to be magnified ever since his statements.

After one specifically hard thrust from Joe, I came around him. I was practically seeing stars as he continued thrusting inside of me.

“Want me to pull out? Easier to clean up.” - Joe

He had to really focus to grit those words out, and I could tell.

“God no. I wanna feel you.” - you

Running my hands up the muscular surface of his back, I laced my fingers into Joe’s hair as he moaned into my mouth.

“Shit… I can't- fuck!” - Joe

Feeling his rush to get as deep as he could had my walls fluttering around Joe’s cock, still not through my orgasm.

Joe continued thrusting as his face contorted from pure pleasure, his climax coming almost as hard as mine did.

“Fuck!” - Joe

With a loud grunt, Joe toppled over on top of me.

Both of our chests heaved, and the only audible sounds were the ones of the ceiling fan and our mutual heavy breaths.

After a minute or so, Joe gently pulled out and flopped over onto his back next to me.

Our fingers intertwined, and we both had deliriously blissed-out smiles on our faces as we stared up at the ceiling.

When we heard the noise downstairs, Joe and I moved our heads to face each other.

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year!!!”

Slowly leaning in, Joe softly kissed my lips as his hand that wasn't holding mine rubbed my naked back.

The kiss lasted a few sweet seconds before we pulled away.

“Happy New Year, baby.” - Joe whispered

“Happy New Year, Joey.” - you

Joe pulled me against his chest, our cheeks pressed together as I ran my fingers through his hair.

“I love you.” - Joe

“I love you too.” - you

A content sigh graced my lips when Joe gently squeezed me.

“No one else I'd rather start ‘24 with. Being your boyfriend is the best privilege, and I'm so thankful to have you.” - Joe

My heart swelled at his confession, but before I could reciprocate something startled the both of us.

“Everything okay?! You guys have been in there forever! Missed the ball and everything!” - Sam

“Yeah! We're uh- getting the stain out of her dress!” - Joe

“Oh okay! Let me in so I can show you where the stain remover is!” - Sam

Joe and I frantically looked at each other before looking down at my bare breasts and his uncovered cock.

“Give us a second!” - Joe

————————————————————————-

Authors note: those mullet pics gave me motivation for this

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[grimesgirll]

heyy could you write Negan smut, with them both fighting for dominance while they fuck, taunting each other; Maybe because they known each other before the apocalypse so she isn’t as intimidated by Negan like the rest.

you have to be the hottest thing he’s seen in quite sometime.

negan, simon, and dwight had heard the gunshots from your shotgun and stumbled upon you; all alone, fending off a few dozen walkers.

simon had insisted that they leave and not risk their safety for “some broad”, and negan was on board until he realized that wasn’t just any broad - it was you.

the three cut through the horde of walkers at negan's insistence. braving bloated corpses and trudging over the trampled isn't a simple feat - even with guns. minutes pass until you're finally face to face. half dazed, you did a double take once your eyes suddenly met the disgraced gym teacher's.

then you hit the ground.

when you woke up, mr. smith was there. you were shocked to see him and even more surprised to learn that he was the leader of an up and coming survival group.

“what about your wife?” you’d asked. “mrs. smith is really cool.”

made slightly dramatic by age, the pained twist of the former faculty's face has you regretting your question.

mrs. smith was really cool.

mr. smith had once been too. kind as well. negan is looks cool, and you can't deny that there's a cult of personality that can't be beat with him. not kind though.

no, you'd learned your first week that the gym teacher who had once teased you about college partying on the playground was now a certified psychopath. as a teaching assistant and faculty shadow at the school, you'd befriended negan easily. the two of you pulled off witty banter as you dropped the kids off for gym, even accepting invitations to join the day's activity.

mr. smith was no more and negan's now burning faces off. you'd seen that. just like you'd seen the floggings, the beatings, the spankings, and even the wall. waking up one day to see the nurse you'd grown fond of outside wandering as a walker was enough for you to tweak.

“what did she do?”

negan looks up from a map of northern virginia to grin at you. “hey, doll! what’s goin’ on?” he kicks his feet up on the desk. “don’t see much of you around here.”

“yeah, because i can barely get by your goons.”

he shrugs. “seems like you got up here just fine.”

you’d sideskirted fat joey when he left his post to top off his dr. pepper. it was easy enough to walk your way to negan’s office to confront him.

“why is the woman who trained me walking around the front yard as a zombie?” you question, not breaking eye contact with the smirking leader. “what could she have done to deserve that?” you let out an exasperated breath, reigning it in with another deep umhals before asking, “don’t you think that’s fucking extreme?”

if negan softens, you really can’t tell. all that comes from the man is a laugh. “you mean the nurse who was planning on robbin’ us all blind and hightailing it with nearly all of our narcotics?”

you don’t even have the care to gawk at him. “could she not have been rehabilitated?”

he scoffs at you. “once an addict, always an addict.”

a sudden wave of dread comes over you, and for a moment you think it may be your lunch coming back up but one look at your former fellow faculty member and you know it’s purely disgust.

“she was my friend!”

“you’ll make more!”

“she was my only friend here,” the words croak out of your mouth.

negan just chews on his lip and shrugs. “sorry, honey, you’ll just have to start bein’ friendlier then.” a smirk spreads across his leather-like, aged face. “might have to drop the whole resting bitch face.”

you’re fuming. the column of rage growing from your belly pangs with no place to go. “for you freaks?”

your outburst has fat joey huffing and puffing his way through the threshold of the door.

“everything, okay, boss?” the grunt looks from your red face to his relaxed leader. “sorry bout’ her. she shouldn’t be up here.”

negan waves a hand. “don’t worry about it, joey. i can handle her.”

joey nods when a “handle me?” is flying from your mouth and negan just shoots him a cheeky grin.

“let me walk you back down there, doll.” negan insists.

when he rises from his desk, you realize how he towers over you, something you’d never clocked despite how often you two had been in close quarters back at school. you’re glaring up to meet his dark eyes - the ones that glint in the light like he hadn’t subjected a young woman to the most gruesome death - not including her life after death.

“this way, you,” negan is shepherding you with a hand on your back and all you can do is grumble as you pass his lazy goon.

once the two of you are in the hallway, you slap his hand off of him. “don’t touch me,” you sneer.

he chuckles. “whatever you wish, princess, just stop interrupting me from my important shit with your emotional shit, ‘kay?”

you shake your head. “what would mrs. smith think of all this? surely you don’t think you’re in the right. your wife would’ve hated this.”

negan gestures to the empty, desolate stairwell the two of you are descending. “she look like she’s here?”

“doesn’t matter. what happened to your morals?” you spit, stopping in your tracks to turn and face the taller man, standing on a higher step so that you’re both at eye level. “you were a school teacher.”

“yeah, and you would’ve been dead if we hadn’t brought you in.”

“so i should be happy with the freak show you’re putting on here?”

the expressive leader throws his arms out to motion to the compound. “look around, it’s bread and circuses!” he says simply. “you work, you get a bed, and a safe place to live.” a devious expression overtakes his countenance. “and a show!”

“i hate it here.” you declare nastily.

he snorts. “you hate not being in control, and all the safe little assurances we had before. things are different now.”

“no,” you counter, face coming closer to his. “you’re different now.”

“gotta be to survive nowadays, darlin’, now hurry it up. you need to get back to stitchin’ up my men so they can go out and bring you back ravioli, morphine, soap, toilet paper, all that shit you’re bitchin’ about having.”

“you’re a psycho,” you huff at him as he ushers you down the stairs, another level, and the familiar way towards the infirmary.

“you’re just not adjusted yet. just stick to changing bedpans and we won’t have a problem,” negan instructs with a hand on your back again.

you brush him off once you two have entered the sterile, white infirmary where doctor carson is talking quietly with one of negan’s goons.

“what’s goin’ on here, doc?” negan questions, startling the two.

negan’s man is pale - and sweating buckets. the doctor stands from his bedside to face negan.

“hello, negan, we were just finishing up.”

“finishing up what?”

the pit in your stomach grows when you notice the sickly man on the bed scurrying to fold the fabric of his shirt back over his stomach. the doctor has a pokerface but you didn’t need them to answer to know what was going on.

“what’s goin’ on, dan? feelin’ alright?” negan doesn’t give the doctor a chance to answer before he’s next to his commissioned scavenger, towering over him now.

dan nods. “feelin’ fine. just scraped up and tired as hell after gettin’ back from carolina.”

“i bet!” that loud voice booms throughout the room. “mighty long trip that was. thanks again, man.” the clap to dan’s back from his leader almost has him buckling. “but you don’t look so good, bud. got something to tell me?”

“negan-,” the doctor starts but he’s quickly silenced by a simple raise of the leader’s hand.

“nope, doc. i wanna hear it from dan here.”

the man’s nervous eyes flicker from doctor carson and to you. you want to crumple where you stand. though his eyes are pleading, there’s nothing you can do. only manage your growing disgust as you watch negan reach for his sidearm.

then negan does something that surprises you, he leans down to embrace the man in a hug.

“thank you, it was just a long trip.” dan’s bumbling, but negan shushes him.

“don’t worry bout’ it, dan.”

that’s when the bullet departs the chamber and implants itself in dan’s brain.

the man who’d just been alive slumps down and falls onto the newly bloodied bedsheets. the white wall behind him is sprayed with brains and chrome. the salt and pepper haired leader stands from the bed and yawns, stretching as if he wasn’t leaving a mess of blood and trauma for you and the doctor to clean up and process.

“back to work. keep an eye on her, doc.”

“negan, you sick fuck.”

this time, negan’s holding his council and heatedly harping on gregory.

the man lets out an exasperated breath. “who the fuck wasn’t watching the door?”

his legion of doom is bewildered to see the sullen nurse standing in the doorway. dwight’s apathetic as always, but is the first to offer to escort you out while simon’s telling gregory to “shut the fuck up” and laura’s looking at you as if no one could be more annoying as to drag this meeting on.

“joey!”

one shout and you hear heavy footsteps thudding down the hall. breathing raggedly, the guard wraps himself around the doorway and drops his sandwich at the sight of you.

“so sorry, boss. she really sneaks in!”

the older man just shakes his head. “don’t let it happen again or gregory gets it.”

laughter erupts from the room. everyone at the table is dropping their dauntless demeanor as if on cue. the only one not laughing is gregory of course.

“negan, listen-,”

“ah!” negan interrupts him, straining against his leather jacket when he turns his body towards him. “you shut it! i hate having my shit interrupted, and i hate having supply drops interrupted far more than meetings.” he directs his attention from the man from hilltop back to you. “why don’t you just take a seat, honey? we’ll be done soon.”

you shake your head. “i’m not trying to stay here any longer than i have to. i need this sorted out now.”

“if you wanna talk, doll, you’ll have to wait your turn. i’m talking to gregory right now.”

“i don’t even want to talk to you.”

he exhales flippantly. “then why are you here? interrupting my important meeting.”

“i came for my shotgun.”

negan chuckles, crossing his arms. “you think you’re gettin’ that thing back? after the mood you’ve been stirring up here?”

you do your best to ignore the way he’s laughing and dismissing you or how he’s manspreading all over the chair he’s parked in.

“i need my stuff now. i’m leaving tonight.”

it’s like the air’s been sucked out of the room. you can see negan’s jaw tighten in real time, and the room stiffens. waiting for a reaction is half the angst but you don’t have time for it. don’t even want to defend your decision, especially in front of everyone here.

“out!”

chair legs scrape against the ground as some of negan’s senior partners in psychopathy begin to egress.

gregory is just looking flabbergasted. “but we had a meeting?”

“everyone, out. now!”

all it takes is a “negan doesn’t like to repeat himself” and dwight is shuffling gregory out of the room, simon taking up the rear.

“see you soon, hun’,” he taunts to you.

you don’t have enough time to process his words because he’s shutting the door behind you and probably mentally rescheduling this meeting. you could care less.

“enough, negan smith.” he blinks at the full name callout. “i want my stuff and i’ll be out of your hair. you won’t have to worry about me.”

negan’s off his feet again and sitting on top of the table now. he points to the chair next to the head. “sit.”

“i don’t want to sit.” you insist. “i already told you, i don’t want to talk, i want to go.”

“yeah, well we’re gonna talk first, so sit your ass down.”

you don’t want to spend anymore time in this nutjob factory than you have to but you want your shotgun back. so you walk across the room and you stand at the chair.

“what do you have to say to me?” you inquire.

“god, look at you!”

you roll your eyes.

“a few weeks after getting your life saved, getting your needs taken care of and you’re ready to go back to that?”

“i don’t want to be at your constant mercy.” you say plainly. “not that you can really call it mercy.”

with every retort from him being a laugh, your patience is growing thin. he snickers upon seeing your frown. “so, you want to take your chances out there instead of taking a little time to let me help figure out your problem?”

you throw up your hands. “figure out my problem? i came to you to help figure out my problem and you said to just deal with it. to ‘adjust’. well, i can’t. i can’t live like this. it’s not humane.”

“yeah, and it’s humane out there?”

“better than bitching in here.”

“well, i think i can help with that. won’t be getting your shotgun back.”

“oh, so you can’t help at all?” you snap.

he whistles. “never said that.” his eyes drop from your gaze down your torso to your thighs. he pats the table next to him. “come sit on the table.”

“no. i want to go. now.”

“alright then.”

“negan!”

you exclaim when he scootches off the table to scoop you up by your legs and middle and plop you down.

“let doctor negan see if he can help.”

“what are you-,”

“ah! look at that.”

“ah!”

the sudden sensation of a finger against your denim covered cunt has your face flushing and red. “been touched there in a while, honey?”

“just give me my shotgun,” you breathe, desperately trying with your eye contact to communicate that things aren’t going the way you expected.

“let me give you some reprieve, clear your head, and then we can see if you still want your shotgun.”

you shake your head as he starts pulling down your pants. “you think your wife would be okay with this?”

“she here?”

you curse yourself for giving him such an easy answer. you curse yourself for not doing anything other than pouting and wiggling once he’s at your waistband. you curse the little wet spot soaked though your underwear even more.

“god, i knew confrontation would get you wet.”

“so you planned this?”

the older man shakes his head, taking another moment to fully lock eyes with you, even as he towers over you on the table. “no, i’m thinking that we both walked into this.”

maybe you shouldn’t have walked in, you ponder as negan walks your undies down your thighs with his fingers and walks them right back to your dripping center. the hair you have down there is already slick, a damp curtain pried open by negan’s thick fingers.

“shit,” you rasp when a finger braves the pool of anticipation that’s only growing and delves further against your inner walls.

“want me stop there?” the fucker’s finger stills inside of you and the other dancing just above your clit comes to a halt.

you don’t respond, just lock eyes with negan and try to catch your breath. “that’s not fair,” you point out in a voice just above a whisper. “can’t stop now.”

“or can i?”

you shake your head. “don’t.”

maybe clearing the tension that’s been building like a twentieth century skyscraper inside of you will sort you out. or you could just say fuck it. the world’s ended anyways.

negan surely fucks a finger stationed inside of you back and forth. twisting and testing the waters before adding another. the extra finger curls inside you deliciously while he utilizes another to play around your clit.

the attention he’s paying to your once undisturbed nether regions is enough to have you creaking and moaning like an old door hinge and hinging forward into negan. he’s quick to let you fall forward into his arms. the sudden acceptance is all he needs to speed up.

“i know that feels good, honey.”

“mhmm,” you murmur into his shoulder.

there’s a spot inside of you that he’s massaging just right and another on your exterior; an x doesn’t need to mark the spot for him to rile up your clit. slow, lazy circles have you grinding against him on the table. how can you bemoan him when he’s about to pull the perfect release from you?

you know that because your breath is picking up again and you’re blubbering into his sturdy shoulder. those motions are telltale. mrs. smith’s memory hasn’t kept this man celibate.

the widower has his hand on your back again and the hand beneath you has its own task. the task at hand is executed with more skill than any boy you’d ever fooled around with in college or anyone who came after - not that there were many given how things had gone. you’d like to think that if shit hadn’t hit the fan, you would’ve settled down with someone like mr. smith but younger. this would have to do.

“clenchin’ so tight just around my fingers, baby. you always had the hots for me?”

you shake your head no truthfully. “this is the hots?”

“you feel hot down there baby, and my are you hot.” he lands the compliment with a kiss. you lean in, letting his tongue slip into your mouth because you’re too occupied with the build up brewing inside of you.

one glance down between you two and you see his fingers pumping. your heart rate jumps when you see the addition of another and now you’re being stretched out on his fingers on this table.

“god, you’re gorgeous. what a sweet little thing to have fallen into my lap.”

you curl further into his lap, legs now around him and his fingers knuckle deep inside of you. all he has to do is curl his fingers and you’re yowling. “mhm, they’re deep.” you say, brain just observing.

“too deep?”

“no.”

thus, they plunge further. until the extra finger on the outside is stirring up more than your slick and heat courses through you. you shudder against negan but that doesn’t stop his routine. the shape of his fingers change inside of you and you’re bucking against him to feel each one.

“fuck, i’m gonna come,” you don’t want to say it out loud but you do anyways.

“on my fingers?” negan sniggers. “you poor thing. c’mon now, i know it must’ve been a while.” he presses the pad of his thumb against your clit. “just let go, honey, it’ll help.”

and it does.

letting your lizard brain take the lead is all you need for your mind to go blank. if even for a second, it releases the anxiety and the anger that’d consumed you. you pulse and clamp down around his digits until suddenly he’s not moving at all but you’re rotating your hips against him.

riding out such a feeling, you blink the tears out of your eyes and do a double take once you notice negan removing his fingers and starting on his belt.

“what’re you doing?” you question, pussy still pulsing with a mind of its own.

“if you thought that helped you relax, this will put you to sleep. no more sleeping pills for you, darlin’.”

“how did you know about that?”

“doctor carson doesn’t keep secrets from me. he didn’t need to tell me you weren’t adjusting well either.” negan states matter-of-factly, then dropping his blue plaid boxers.

you’re not sure how you’re going to adjust to the sight you’re met with. the cock in front of you is larger than any you’ve ever seen before. if negan’s fingers had you losing it, this thing will ruin you.

“i don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you admit when his hands land on your hips.

the distance between your needy bare entrance and his thick dick is only inches now. you shudder at the longing that’s whipping you and your thoughts around. you moan when he slides his hard, veiny cock against your entrance, slapping it against you once for good measure.

“nope, you’re tougher than you think.”

you meet his eyes again as if to question him. sure, he feels good against you but this is next level. better than fiction but what would happen after you both got your orgasms out of the way?

there’s no time for you to speculate because his lips are on yours again and you feel him lining himself up against you. “you want me to fuck all those fears out of your head, honey? you wanna feel good?”

how can you say no to that?

one nod of your head and his tip is teasing you. it takes you telling him, “please, put it in. i want it,” and then he’s plunging inside.

your face scrunches as a little burn becomes prominent from his size, but he kisses the lines away from your face. your temple, your nose, your lips, your cheek, he’s kissing you, saying, “good girl. you’re doing fantastic.”

you just eat up the praise and look down to see your pussy devouring him whole. the first two or three inches were a struggle just from lack of use but your lack of pleasure - the near sexual deprivation you’d experienced since shit hit the fan - overcomes it, and is pleasantly fulfilled.

in and out of you, negan works his hips and you can’t be happier. could a man you’d branded a psycho just minutes before be so adept at addressing your pleasure?

seems like it.

“god, you fuck well for a gym teacher.”

negan won’t let the snide comment slide so he wraps up his tour of purple rain against your collarbone to simper at you. “yeah, and for a frigid bitch, this pussy is hot and ready.”

“maybe i’m one of those dumb girls who’s attracted to psychos and serial killers?” you ponder playfully and wrap your arms negan’s neck to pull him in closer.

“oh, i’m gonna fuck you dumb, honey, don’t worry.” and with a roll of his hips, you have no reason to worry he won’t live up to his words.

you whine when he suddenly rams into you. his girth juts along your tight, inner walls. you meet his gaze again and just looking at his smug face has you tightening around him.

“god, baby, did you just fuckin’ squeeze me?”

“can you adjust?”

he grunts. “can you?”

you don’t have time to ask what you could possibly have to adapt to next because negan’s turning you into your stomach onto the table, tossing his leather jacket down for you to bury your face into. his absence from between your thighs brings on another whine but one moment of motion and now you feel him flush against your back, filling you to the brink with his cock.

“yeah, bet that brain can’t even think about an escape plan with that dumb little pussy stuffed so full. you gonna’ be able to walk tomorrow, honey?” he asks you tenderly as if he’s not on the verge of taking out your cervix.

“ne-negan! sto-,”

“-stop what?” he gyrates his hips nice and slow into you, dragging on the sensitive insides of your poor, overstimulated little cunt. “stop fucking you? because the way your pussy is clampin’ down, i don’t even know how i’m backing out of here baby.”

“don’t!” you beg.

“what?” he leans down to take your chin in his hands and see the angsty, pleasure induced tear starting to roll down your cheek. “god, you even look pretty when you cry. fuckin’ face like that.”

hips are stammering and negan’s words burn straight through to your core. he moans like a motherfucker when he feels the squeeze of your clingy little core on him. haywire all of this had gone, and now your climax is taking you over the edge.

“negan, don’t stop. don’t stop. don’t be an asshole,” you’re pleading.

he’s back to spearing you on his cock, leveraging your hips and throwing his head back. “don’t think i could, baby. not with a pussy this fucking fantastic.”

the praise is what does you in for the second time. any thought of undead nurses or public floggings leaves your brain and all you’re left with is the molten hot pleasure exploding inside of you. negan’s hand drifts down to your clit to have you absolutely crushing his cock.

“god, doll, you’re fuckin’ tight. so fuckin’ hot when you come like that. gonna have me doing a fuckin’ one and done for now.”

the huskiness of his voice and the twitch of him against your walls only eggs you on. your eyes are shut tight but you he’s all you can imagine. head on top of his jacket, you breathe in his scent, musky with a hint of the same cologne he wore back at school, and you’re creaming around him.

“fuck, doll!”

and he’s shooting his cream inside of you. the warmth fills you up and you no longer have the energy to move. any gyration of your hips has halted. a few more thrusts and he’s in the same boat. he collapses atop you for just a moment before pulling out and padding towards the table against the wall laden with napkins and refreshments that were supposed to be for the meeting.

you don’t turn your head but you can hear him grabbing some paper towels off the roll and clutching some other things.

“just gonna wipe between your legs,” he instructs and you let him.

your forehead against the table and those pretty eyes squeezed shut has negan rethinking a thing or two. suddenly he’s regretting not fucking you like the sweet thing you are. you deserved better than a table - at least his soft, king sized mattress if not a cloud.

once he finishes, he pats your back and nudges you up where he’s waiting with a water bottle - already open with the cap off. you accept with no issue and gulp the mini-sized bottle down easily.

“listen, why don’t you have dinner with the girls and i tonight? i’m not gonna give you your shotgun back just yet, but might change your mind about some things.”

[cloveroctobers]

JOEY/ANA LUCIA CRUZ — Spring Writings 🩵

A/N: because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t get inspired by a horror film. This isn’t anything big since I’m “supposed” to be on a writing break but I’ve been in the mood for something domestic lately so here you go 🙂‍↔️

PROMPT is from HERE & I’m using: 2.       “Why did I let you remodel the bathroom?”

.☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚

Joey’s in a mood.

When she wakes up, she’s already aware of the type of time she was on. The room feels like it’s spinning even when she’s laying in bed, the light from her phone to check the time only makes her head feel heavier, and when she pushes herself up into a sitting position in bed she feels as if she’s going to tipple right over onto the floor.

She figures she’s been coming down with something these past few days but did all the proper care the minute she felt unwell. She was a medic, she knows what to do and what her body should feel like. She also didn’t want her sickness to interfere with any time she got to spend with her son. It was baby steps bonding with her son and not to mention her hard-ass of a mother but Joey made a promise to herself to put in the work.

Giving herself time, she’s out of bed and making her way down the hallway which feels like one of those walkthroughs with the strobe lights at the museum. Now that she’s on her feet, she feels as if her body is about to cave in from rattling against the cold. Her shoulders are turned inwards as she uses the wall for leverage to make it to the bathroom. Joey doesn’t bother to feel for the light and just wants to find the toilet, which isn’t far from the entrance, but she doesn’t see the pair of feet stretched out that sends her flying through the bathroom towards where the shower wall should be, that her hands have to reach out for support as she slams to the floor.

She’s hissing at the pain that radiates from her hip and down her femur. Through half lidded eyes she glances around, fingers pressed into her forehead in aggravation as well as discomfort. “Y/n?! Are you fucking serious? Why are you on the floor in the dark?!”

You’re sitting up now, “I see better in the dark remember? That fall looked like it hurt, you good?”

Joey scoffs, “no! I’m not good, I just busted my ass because of what?”

She listens carefully as you clink a wrench against the side of the toilet and her blood feels like it’s simmering as she recalls the reason for your actions, “…Why did I let you remodel the bathroom?”

“To save us money, duh.” You respond as you get up to head over to the brunette.

You hold out your hand, waiting for Joey to find your hand in the dark so you can pull her up. It’s much quicker than anticipated but you help her to her feet anyway. Now she’s moving around you to flick the dim lighting of the room on and gets a good look of the small space. The tub was no longer a tub—being broken down and leaving a mess all along the floor, there were multiple paint swatches on the wall, the mirror above the sink was still in tact along with the toilet.

Joey blinks, “aren’t vampires supposed to be wealthy? Why not have someone else do it for you?”

You cackle, which always sounds like windchimes.

“My carpenter of a father didn’t leave shit behind for us and always expected us to work for our own…just imagine how disappointed he was to hear that his eldest daughter wanted to be a cellist for a living—which was somewhat satisfactory centuries ago. Then my mother? A complete gambler? it would be a miracle for us siblings to even see a hundred dollars. I have the skill so I can do it and you’ll thank me later once my craft leaves you stunned.” You bounced on your toes with a grin while Joey just shook her head.

She never thought after what happened at the manor that she would ever interact with vampires again. Foolish woman. Yet you came along months later when Joey was trying to get her life together and all of a sudden she had a new roommate. Who happened to be a damn vampire! You tricked her and although her guard should have been up, you swore you didn’t want to drink her dry—stating that you weren’t a fan of AB negative blood—you still threw that threat around that you would although it happened to be a empty threat.

Joey was still aware of the strength that you had. And living with a vampire wasn’t so bad until now, with you renovating and her forgetting the crime scene you committed days ago in this same bathroom. You liked to keep the hunts outside of the apartment since the clean up took up quite a lot of time and the stench stained your nails that you had to stop seeing your manicurist and do it yourself! To put it simply, matters went left that night all because of your fling Klaus and Joey came home a lot sooner than expected! You’ve noticed that Joey’s been under the weather a lot lately, being in a brain fog that she seemed to be forgetting things, cold, and sleeping a lot more.

She didn’t relapse, which was great considering everything she told you one late night when she couldn’t sleep. The pack of lollipops were commonly on the list to pick up but as long as she kept up with her meetings and dentist appointments then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about, right?

I know you didn’t believe that.

“Every time you say that, that always equals another outcome,” Joey’s gripping the sides of the sink now and exhales.

You twist your body back and forth as you innocently say, “not sure what you mean buttercup—

“Ugh, shut up! Don’t do the pet names, it makes me nauseous.”

You lightly ask, “Are you pregnant?”

“What the hell did you just say?” Joey is baffled as her head whips to where you stand.

“Just a thought.” You lift your shoulders, “i thought you hit it off with…shit I’m so bad with names.”

“The guy that you forgot to mention was a fucking mutant? I don’t even know what’s worse a mutant or a vampire?!” Joey growled before taking a deep breath after glancing at you pouting at her, “You don’t need to worry about my love life, what you need to worry about is us having a functioning bathroom!”

You point the wrench in the direction of the said item, “the toilet and sink still work. I didn’t mess with the pipes yet! And as your roommate and best friend you’ve ever had or only had—it’s my job to make sure you’re spicing things up.”

Joey lifts a brow, “you think I need a man of a mutant to do that?”

“…if that’s what you prefer, unless you state otherwise…” you place your hand on your hip in anticipation.

Joey huffs, “I’m not doing this with you this morning—

“It’s one pm.” You inform but pull your lips together as Joey glares at you with her dark downturned eyes.

“Could you leave the bathroom so I can actually use it?” Joey manages to get out, feeling a chill and a turn of her stomach wash over her body.

You nod, “sure! Do you think it’s roughly going to be a five minute sesh or forty five because I can get started on dinner or brunch?”

Joey picks at the back of your shirt, actually lifting you off your feet to walk you out of the bathroom, tossing you a bit into the adjacent hallway wall, before slamming the door behind you.

“That wasn’t pleasant,” you sharply exhale as you fix your shirt and make your way down the hallway.

You pass by the kitchen, through the living room to your bedroom which you leave the door open just a crack as you plop down onto your bed belly first. Reaching for the copper rotary, your fingers rotate against the numbers before the ringing begins in your ear.

“Hammy! How are ya? Are we still on for dinner tonight? My friend is getting worse and could really use your help.” You keep your voice leveled just in cause those senses kicked in too.

No matter what Joey thought, you were friends and you only wanted what was best for her.

This life was just not that, in your opinion.

You had to prepare for the worst before she was even aware of what this all was. However tonight with the visit of Abraham, would open her eyes some more unfortunately.

.☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚

[citruswriter]

ok ok hear me out.. rottmnt boys x an autistic reader who is sensitive to / scared of loud sounds so when the 4th of July comes around the reader pretty much just starts tripping balls and on the verge of a meltdown? This happens to me often so it would mean a lot to me

ROTTMNT Boys x ND Reader during 4th of July

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Meltdown, lots of crying, nonverbalness with Raph and Donnie, fluff and comfort, neurodivergent/autistic Reader, Reader wears a bra in Donnie's section (ur wearing the fckn bra Joey).

A/N: Ok no bc last year the fireworks scared me so badly and I cried and I didn't know why bc fireworks never scared me before but I had a total meltdown and had to hide in the car while my husband gave me his noise cancelling headphones. 😭😭😭 W Husband.

It had been a long day for you. It was the 4th of July and you and your family had decided to have a potluck party. Of course you went, bringing food of your own and eating as you conversed with aunts, uncles, cousins, and the likes. After awhile the sun began to set and you decided it was time to get home before it got completely dark. Saying your goodbyes, you decided to call your favorite turtle.

"Yeah the potluck was good. The family really wants to meet you, you know?. I can only keep my boyfriend elusive for so long". You teased with a giggle. "Oh come on. You know it's not as simple as that. I'd love to meet your parents though". His voice came back. You went to reply, but a loud crack was heard in the sky, causing you to shriek. "Baby? Baby you ok?" His voice came, but it sounded far off. Your head began to spin and your chest felt tight, tears welling up in your eyes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I forgot about the fucking fireworks was all you thought as you stumbled back, stumbling into a nearby wall, hand clutching your phone into a death grip. "Stay right there! I'm coming to get you!"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Raphael x Reader 🧡

It wasn't long before you felt fingers wrap around your upper arms. You jerked away, sobbing and whipping your head around. "Shhhhh. It's just me, strawberry". A soothing voice came. "I'm going to pick you up ok?" All you could do was nod as Raph picked you up, pressing one ear to his chest as he covered the other with his hand. He sprang from rooftop to rooftop before finding his way to the lair.

Everything was so loud but as the two of you shimmied into the sewers, everything became muffled. "Do you wanna walk on your own?" He asked gently and you shook your head, clutching onto him for dear life. Raph nodded, carrying you down the sewer lines before reaching the lair. "I'm gonna take you to the room, ok?" He said gently, taking you to his bedroom and laying you down on his bed. "Do you need anything?" He asked and you chewed your lip in thought. He seemed to pick up on the fact that you were nonverbal.

"Do you want something to eat?" You shook your head no. "What about something to drink?" You thought before nodding. "Water?" No. "Juice?" Yes. He nodded and held out his hands. "Tap my left hand for apple juice, right hand for orange juice". He said and you thought for a moment before tapping one of his hands. He nodded and left for a moment. You pulled yourself up in a half sat up position, taking a few deep breaths to clear your still ringing head.

Your head jerked towards the door as Raph stepped back in, a glass full of juice. He smiled softly, sitting on the bed next to you and handing the glass to you. Shaky hands reached out to glass, grasping it firmly before bringing it up to your mouth to chug as much as you needed. A smack of your lips and a sigh left you before you handed the glass to him. "Thanks, Raphie." You croaked out with a soft smile.

"Anything for you." He said softly, crawling into bed with you to hold you close. "Wanna spend the night here? Pretty sure you have a few sets of jammies over here." He asked gently and you smiled up at him, hand reaching to gently cradle his jaw. "I'd love that. Thank you." You muttered before giving him a kiss.

"Anything for you, my love".

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

It seemed like only moments before a hand grabbed yours. You whipped around to see your boyfriend, tears spilling over your cheeks as he grabbed his sword to portal. He pulled you through and suddenly... everything was quiet. You gasped a breath before sobbing. "It's ok. It's ok. I've got you." Leo's soft voice came as he wrapped his arms around you. You broke down sobbing, your ears still ringing from the fireworks.

Hands gently tugged you to the bed. "Wait here." He said before springing out. You whined as he left, clutching your head, but he returned only moments later. He handed a glass of water to you and you sucked it down within seconds. "Here." His gentle voice came as he crouched down, hands reaching to slowly take off your shoes. "Movie night sound good?" He asked, looking up to you with a soft smile and you nodded.

Leo turned on his TV, letting you pick the movie before taking the blanket he had snagged and spreading it over the bed. You seemed to visibly relax as you felt the pressure of the weighted blanket press into you. "Sometimes Donnie gets overstimulated and uses a weighted blanket to calm down, so I asked him if I could borrow it for you". He said with a proud grin and you smiled up at him, hands reaching for him to drag him into bed with you.

"My hero." You said softly, voice barely above a whisper. Leo's eyes seemed to light up. Maybe he wasn't the most experienced with relationships, but he always enjoyed making you happy and meeting your needs. "I love you, mi amor". He muttered, lips pressing a kiss to your temple. You hummed back and reached your hands up to cup his cheeks, angling him so you could give him a sweet kiss.

"I love you too, Leonardo".

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Donatello x Reader 🧡

Donnie found you within seconds. His heart almost broke as he saw you shaking and sobbing. Hands slipped a device over your ears and you looked up as the world became muffled. Noise cancelling headphones. "I've got you". He signed. It took you a moment to decipher it, you weren't as good at sign as he was. But eventually you nodded and he approached you, hands hovering over your body, silently asking if it was ok to touch you. You nodded and leaned forward towards him, legs shaky. Donnie scooped you up, holding you close as he used his tech to quickly bring the both of you to the lair.

Once you made it inside, he made it clear to his brothers that he would be unavailable for the night. One glance at your trembling body and tear stained face and they immediately understood. He brought you inside the lab, laying you on his bed before taking the headphones off. "You better now?" He asked softly, hand reaching up to caress your face. You took a deep breath and nodded. "Can you talk?" He asked and you shook your head, tapping your throat. Donnie just nodded in understanding. "Can I get you anything?"

You tilted your head to the side, trying to remember the signs he had taught you. "Tea. Heavy blanket." Was all you signed before your boyfriend kissed your forehead and got to work. You leaned up against the wall, breathing deeply as you tried to calm your nerves. "Aaaaaand here you go." He said with a soft smile, handing you a cup of tea before spreading the weighted blanket over you. "If you need me, I'll be at my desk working, ok?" He said and you nodded, lifting your head for a kiss. Donnie just chuckled, bending down kiss your lips before leaving you to your own devices. You scrolled on your phone as you drank your tea, slowly relaxing more and more.

Eventually you felt sleepy, yawning and stretching your arms. The motion caught Donnie's eye and he smiled over at you lovingly before pulling himself away from his work. "Is it bedtime?" He asked and you nodded, taking off your jeans so you could lay down comfortably. "Want one of my hoodies?" He asked and you gazed up at him, blinking slowly before nodding. He went to snag a comfy sweater, coming back to see you taking off your shirt and struggling with your bra. "Let me, dove". He murmured, snapping your bra off and kissing your shoulder as he helped you slide it off before handing you the hoodie to shimmy into.

You smiled contently before laying down. Donnie took off his gear before laying down with you. "You know, I think I'm awfully tired myself." He said, snuggling into you and you looked up at him with a giggle, grabbing his face gently to pepper his face with kisses. Donnie couldn't help but let out a few chirps, nuzzling into your hands.

"You're too sweet to me, Donnie". You murmured, snuggling into him. Donnie just smiled softly, gently grasping your jaw so he could give you a bunch of kisses on your lips and cheeks. You giggled sleepily. "Mkay stawp. It bedtime". You said, speech slurred with how tired you were. Donnie smiled and held you close, hand tangled in your hair. As he watched you sleep, he couldn't help but stare at you lovingly.

"What did I do to deserve you?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Michaelangelo x Reader 🧡

You were clutching your chest, the fireworks ringing in your head. Two hands gently grasped your shoulders and you jerked your head up, blurry vision focusing enough to see your boyfriend. You sobbed and stumbled into his arms. Clutching onto him as he opened a portal and pulled you through and into his bedroom. You collapsed to your knees, hugging yourself and rocking softly in an attempt to calm yourself. Mikey crouched down in front of you, face worried. "Hey. Hey it's ok. C-Can I touch you?" He asked gently, tone unsure.

You took a deep breath and nodded. Mikey opened his arms and tugged you into his embrace. He whispered sweet things into your ear, one hand in your hair and the other half way up your shirt as he rubbed circles on your bare side. You clutched him close, doing your best to take deep breaths and ground yourself in reality. Eventually your breathing evened out and you nuzzled into his neck. "You a bit better, sunshine?" He asked softly, nuzzling you back as you nodded. "I could really go for a shower..." You sighed out. "You wanna take one alone or are you good if I join you?" He asked softly and you hummed in thought before lifting your head. "I'd like to take one with you if that's ok".

Mikey just chirped and excitedly nodded. "Of course, sunshine." He said before rushing off to the bathroom to start a shower. You chuckled softly, digging through his dresser to get a pair of the jammies he had gotten you forever ago. "It's ready!" Came his voice. You undressed and got into the shower with him.

The two of you took your time. Him washing your hair, you scrubbing his shell, him messaging your body with the body soap, you attacking his cute face with kisses. The two of you just spent time to decompress, you especially after the meltdown you had. "Feeling better?" Mikey asked once more and you smiled softly, hugging him and resting your head on his plastron. "Much. Thank you so much". You replied.

Mikey kissed your forehead and grinned. "You wanna get some pizza and play video games after this?" He asked, hopeful that you weren't too exhausted to pass up gaming. You looked up at him mischievously and giggled. "You already know it. I'm gonna kick your ass". Mikey laughed and squeezed your sides. "Oh you're so on".

You and Mikey spent the rest of the night eating pizza and playing video games, loudly talking shit to one another and winning rounds against each other until the two of you were so tired and ready to go to bed.

"I love you so much". He churred out, fingers tracing the features of your face. You hummed and nuzzled into his wrist. "I love you too, darling." You tilted your head to place a soft kiss to his mouth. His hand slid up to your face, gently deepening the kiss before pulling away and snuggling into you.

"My beautiful angel".

Haiiiiiii. Hope ya'll enjoyed dis. Fanks and byeeeeeee.

[ayyy-pee]

𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕕𝕖 𝟘.𝟝 - 𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕜

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Next Episode

Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader

Episode Summary: After a drunken night of binge watching your (least?) favorite show, you find yourself making a grave mistake.

STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS

Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, REVERSE HAREM, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)

Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219 Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)

A/N: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE! I hope you guys enjoy this ride (that you're in charge of in later chapters!!!) I'll put up Episode 1 tomorrow after proofreading!!! <3

“God, this show is so stupid,” you mutter, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth while you get settled onto the couch.

“Please…It’s so bad, but I tune in to every season.”

You glance over when your friend reaches into your lap and dips her fingers into your bowl of popcorn and grabs a few kernels.

That was the perfect way to describe what was happening now. You’re currently huddled up on the couch, having spent the day binging the most recent season of The Bachelor until you’re all caught up. The new episode airs tonight and you’re eager to see who Joey ends up picking. Will it be Rachel? She’s gorgeous, funny, and her family seems to really get along with this season’s Bachelor. They have great chemistry. Or maybe it will be Daisy? Though you couldn’t see that working out. The girl is a total bore. Or it could be…what’s her name again? The one who looks a little bit like she could be his sister. Ah, whatever.

You’re not sure when you really began to even give a shit about this mess of a show. It’s corny. No one falls in love within a few weeks of knowing each other. And why does one man or woman need to date twenty people to find someone to marry? Are they that unlikeable in the real world? Not to mention, it’s totally unrealistic. Do these relationships even work out once the cameras cut off? Unlikely. You find the entire premise of the show downright stupid.

And yet, you can’t tear your eyes away as this season’s Bachelor takes each girl out on an extravagant date that…you can’t lie, you would love to be on.

Dancing in Malta? Sunbathing on a yacht off the coast of Spain? Getting to see Niagara Falls up close? Sign you up. You don’t think you would stand a chance being the object of everyone’s affection, but you could definitely milk being a contestant for free trips and good food.

“Why can’t he see that Rachel is the best pick here? Ugh, annoying. You know he’s going to give what’s-her-name the last rose.” Your friend downs her wine in one swig and you don’t bother to hold back the laugh bubbling in your chest. She’s all red faced. You’re not sure if it’s from how passionate she is about the show or from the two empty bottles of merlot she’s managed to down practically on her own, but the glowing hue it gives her highlights the thick scar across her face. A product of her line of work, and said line of work being the reason she’s guzzling wine in the first place.

“Maybe take it easy on the drinks, Utahime.”

She hiccups next to you, slouching in her seat. “I haven’t even had that much to drink!”

“You’ve had most of the wine just on your own!”

“Oh my god, you have one or nine glasses of wine and suddenly you’re wasted,” she mutters sarcastically. “I’m fine.”

You roll your eyes, because you know there’s no going back and forth with her stubborn ass when she starts drinking. 

The living room dims for about three seconds before it lights back up, the show now having gone on commercial break. The rose ceremony is next and despite shit-talking the show only ten minutes ago, you’re eager for the commercials to wrap up so you can see who goes home. It better not be Rachel. You use this brief intermission to go and get some water for yourself but mostly Utahime so she can sober up.

This has been your routine for the last few weeks. Every Monday night, Utahime comes over, peels you out of your bed and forces you on the couch to chug alcohol and watch this ridiculous show. While you find the entire premise of the show nonsensical, you’re grateful for the time it’s given you with Utahime.

You’re fairly new to the Kyoto area and Utahime was the first person you’d met on your first day at your new – how can you put this? – unique job. You see, you and Utahime both work in the field of Jujutsu sorcery. But there’s about where your similarities in the field stop.

Utahime is an active Sorcerer. She’s an instructor raising up the next generation of Sorcerers, building them up so that they can one day join the frontlines to protect the unaware non-Sorcerers of Japan. She’s strong– a grade 1 Sorcerer. Quite impressive. She could easily knock a curse’s head off if she wanted to.

But you? Well, while Utahime is at the top of the ranks of Jujutsu society, you are what some would refer to as a bottomfeeder – an unranked, unimportant, lowly Window. You’re someone who has just enough cursed energy to see a curse. But can you do anything about them? Not unless you want to end up in the nearest trauma center. So if you’re smart, you’ll do your job and whip your phone out to report it so that the real Sorcerers can handle it.

You’ve been in this field for several years now, but working outside of the major cities of Japan. Transferring to Kyoto was your idea of wanting something new and different. Utahime had quickly taken you under her wing. You were certain it was because she took pity on you. A weak, barely gifted Window. But as time went on, you came to realize that that was just Utahime. She was kind and funny, and had a good heart. Well, except when it came to –

“Hey!” Utahime calls from her spot on the couch. You can hear a slur in her words as she speaks and you know she’s opened yet another bottle of wine from who knows where. “Come here! Look at this!” You peer at the television from the doorway of your kitchen and see Utahime has it paused on a very ugly ad. It’s bright white with a background full of red rose petals across the screen. Your eyes roam over the words.

“THE SEARCH IS ON FOR THE ELIGIBLE WOMEN WHO ARE READY TO FIND TRUE LOVE! DO YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW HAVE THE CHARM, STYLE, AND PERSONALITY TO BE OUR NEXT STAR? IF SO, APPLY OR NOMINATE SOMEONE NOW!”

“Will you hurry up? Come look!” Utahime demands, messily pouring more wine into her glass. But it looks like a normal advertisement to you, so you’re not entirely sure what has Utahime’s interest so piqued.

She beckons you again, yelling “Come here!” So you quickly grab a couple bottles of water from your fridge and head back. Utahime is pointing insistently at the screen. “Look. Look really hard.”

You follow the path where her finger points, shuffling closer to the t.v. to get a clearer look. It takes a moment for you to see it, like really see it, but it’s definitely there. Underneath the last line, hidden from the eyes of those unable to see the horrors that you and those like Utahime can, is another message. You fall to your knees, eyes glued to the tiny additional message floating beneath, glowing with cursed energy that reads, “JUJUTSU SorcererS PREFERRED”. 

Confusion slowly takes over your features, the corners of your lips turning down with a frown, a brow arched and skepticism in your eyes. Were you missing something? Was this some sick joke? Were Jujutsu Sorcerers huge fans of The Bachelor or something? You spin around to face your friend who has a look of mischief twinkling in her eyes. You know it all too well, mouth falling open and a finger pointing when you scream “NO” at the exact moment Utahime yells “YOU SHOULD APPLY!”

“Absolutely not!” You must be looking at Utahime like she’s grown two more heads because she looks just as confused as you.

“Why not?! You’d be great on there!”

Maybe she hasn’t grown two more heads. Maybe her brain was swapped while you were in the kitchen because why the hell was she suggesting this?

“Well, for starters, I’m not really looking to date.”

Utahime rolls her eyes, as if that’s just not a good enough excuse. You should just ignore her, snatch the remote from her hand and hit play so you can get back to the show and see who this guy chooses to potentially get engaged to. But for some reason (could be the single drop of wine your friend allowed you to have while she downed the rest), you feel the need to keep listing off reasons to not sign up. “Secondly, I– why would I even want to go on this show?”

Utahime sips her wine, eyes low as she falls into her drunkenness, but you can still see the sparkle of mischief in those brown hues…and it scares you. So you keep talking, chatting away and listing excuse after excuse to your friend, eventually finding yourself back on the couch trying to drive your final point home.

“Besides, they want Sorcerers.” This seems to get Utahime’s attention again, makes her set her glass down as she looks at you.

“I’m sure it’s fine. You are a Sorcerer.”

“I’m a Window.”

“Semantics. You can see curses, can’t you?” Utahime argues.

“...yes.” You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “But I can’t do anything about them.”

It’s not something you should be ashamed of, but there’s just the tiniest bit of you that is ashamed. Because being able to see these monsters and not having the power to do anything about them…well, it feels like a curse in and of itself.

To this, she sighs. “Sorcerers, Windows. They’re just terms used by the higher-ups to keep their stupid, fucked up heirarchy intact.”

You know it’s the wine that’s loosened her tongue. In public, Utahime would not dare to speak so freely. The Jujutsu politics in Kyoto were a lot stricter than they were in Tokyo. Not that that said much anyway. The politics were shit regardless. But Utahime worked closely with those connected to the higher-ups, so outside of this little bubble in your apartment, she kept pretty hush hush about her true feelings.

You watch Utahime closely as she fiddles with her wine glass. She really is beautiful. You think she’d be incredible on a show like this. Which gives you the idea.

“What don’t you apply?”

Utahime leans back, a cackle so loud and abrupt leaving her tiny body.

“No way. I would never date any of these Sorcerers.”

“And you want me to?!” You ask incredulously. You don’t know whether to be offended or not.

Your friend fixes you with a deadpan stare. “You don’t know them the way I do. The only good one out of all of them is Nanami Kento…and Shoko.” She mutters the last name quietly, like it’s a secret that she thinks so highly of her. And maybe it is a secret…the way she feels about the doctor in Tokyo who you couldn’t help but notice has Utahime’s cheeks glowing red whenever she’s mentioned.

“Besides,” Utahime continues. “If I signed up for this and got paired with Gojo –” she shudders at the mere thought of being near the man. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself from projectile vomiting just at the prospect of having to kiss him.”

It’s your turn to laugh obnoxiously now, because – “Why the hell would the strongest Sorcerer in a thousand years sign up for this shit? You don’t think he has anything better to do? Like, you know…keep all of Japan safe?”

“Satoru Gojo does whatever Satoru Gojo wants.”

You can’t argue with that. Utahime would know best. She did grow up with him after all. She knew him well. You’ve never met the man, being just a Window, you doubt you ever will. Out of all the Sorcerers, you’ve only ever met Utahime and Principal Gakuganji. You’ve never even met any of the students. You all run in different circles, but that doesn't mean you don’t keep up with the going-ons of the Jujutsu world. Everyone knows Satoru Gojo.

“You should really sign up, though,” Utahime suggests once more. “You might meet a good person. If anything, you’ll get a good vacation out of it.” With that, she stands. It’s clear that the wine is hitting her again, because she wobbles clumsily to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

If it’s anything like every other week before this, you’ll be peeling Utahime out of your bathtub because she will have inevitably fallen asleep.

Your eyes fall back on the hidden message on the television, reading it over and over before you finally just hit play and let the finale finish.

Joey chooses whatever that girl’s name is. You’re only halfway paying attention because against your better judgment, you’re actually thinking about applying to this. But you think the show is stupid, right? Why would you waste your time? But what if Utahime is right? What if you do meet someone? It’s not that you’re against dating. You’re just not actively in the market for romance because you’ve found that dating non-Sorcerers is more stress than it’s worth.

The constant obligation you feel to regulate their emotions so you can avoid the creation of a cursed spirit that you’ll have to call in and do paperwork for? Exhausting. Not to mention, if you ever grew to truly love this person, you’d be overwhelmed with guilt if a curse manifested and harmed them in any way and you couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as you made a phone call.

You’d never really given any thought to it, but perhaps dating a Sorcerer is what you needed. You could end up meeting an amazing man!

But also, semantics or not, you were not technically a Sorcerer. You were simply a Window. Why the hell would an actual Sorcerer want to be with you? Better yet, what were the chances of this show even choosing you as their next Bachelorette?

- - - - - -

Apparently, the chances were extremely high, because one phone call, four video interviews, a nearly five hour drive from Kyoto to Tokyo, and days of promotional video and photo shoots later, you find yourself standing outside of the Bachelor Mansion, donning the most expensive gown that money could buy.

This is not what you expected. Not at all. There is so much going on. You want to run and hide from every single camera you see being propped up. You want to curl into yourself when the lights come on and the director calls, “Action!” And you see some man you’re just meeting for the first time approaching as he speaks directly to the camera.

“...and she’ll be making history tonight as The Bachelorette’s first Jujutsu Sorcerer,” you hear him tell the camera as he stops just a few feet short of you. Tall, blonde and handsome. He looks like an American football player. “I’m Jesse Palmer, ladies and gentleman. Now, let’s meet our Bachelorette!”

He turns to you, wearing a bright smile. The cameras follow, moving closer to catch a close-up of your face, so you smile as naturally as you can and try not to flinch when Jesse moves forward to embrace you in a swift hug.

Jesse calls your name as though you’ve been friends for a long time. “So nice to finally see you. You look great.”

The camera pans down your body and back up to your face. “Likewise, Jesse.”

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“I’m nervous! Definitely nervous, but feeling good! I’m so excited for this,” you lie. You’re dreading this process. But it’s too late to back out now. So you just hold your smile, conversing politely as Jesse makes small talk and gets to know you before the first contestant pulls up.

And you hope that if Utahime is watching, she sees the message behind your eyes screaming that you’re absolutely going to kill her.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Typical Day For a Bouncer

I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!

Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.

Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.

Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.

I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.

"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.

"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?

"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.

"Of course, sir."

There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!

"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.

I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.

The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.

"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.

"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.

"Yes, sir."

I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.

That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.

"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.

"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."

"No you don't!" the boy interjects.

"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."

"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"

"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.

Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.

"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.

Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.

"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.

"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.

Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.

"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.

"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.

"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."

I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."

"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."

I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.

He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.

"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.

"Yes, sir."

My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.

"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"

"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.

As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?

Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.

Now I'm acting like a dog!

Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.

I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?

There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?

"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.

"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.

Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Bodyguard Preview

“What if you didn't have to wait? What if we made it a reality and you became my wife in the next twenty four hours?”

Straddling him, your eyes suddenly went wide as your arms wrapped his neck and stared at him, not really knowing what to say.

“Um, Joey….”

“We can hop on a plane in the next few hours and make it happen. Make it a little getaway that leads into our honeymoon.”

“So, you want to elope?” You asked again, making sure you were hearing him right.

“For my short answer, yes. I don't want to wait any longer. I've been holding onto your ring for a while and it literally took me six months to design it because I know how picky your ass is.”

“Our parents are going to be mad as hell about that. And you love me all the same, including my pickiness.”

You could just hear your parents now throwing a fit about you and Joe not saying anything to them.

And your siblings

And your friends

But deep down when you thought about it, why should you even care? You were getting married to the person in front of you and as far as you were concerned, his opinion was the only one that mattered.

“And? They'll get over it and we can always do something here once we get back. I want you all to myself and one way or another, I always get what I want. And I do love your pickiness even if it gets on my nerves sometimes.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you.

“And we don't have to tell anyone either until we want to." He added before kissing you again.