#thanks for the joe request!! i hope you liked it <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[bloody-cupcakes]

can you do some joe goldberg whump headcanons?? maybe with love or an x reader

A/N: yeah of course! I chose to do x reader since that's what I write for my blogs haha

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, stalking, kidnapping, murder, slight gore/injuries mentioned (both on accident and intentional), drugging, emotional manipulation/gaslighting, blackmail, Stockholm syndrome implied at the end

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First of all, know that he never actually wants to hurt you. He doesn't enjoy seeing you in any kind of pain, or hearing your muffled cries through the gag as he punishes you for whatever it is that you've done wrong this time. He loves you, and he just wants what's best for you after all

He only stalks you out of a need to know where you are at all times, just so he can be sure that you're safe. What would he do if something happened and he wasn't there to protect you? He'd never be able to forgive himself for it, hence him memorizing your entire schedule off the top of his head

Anyone who he deems as toxic or unworthy of being in your life is instantly gotten rid of, though he does feel a bit of guilt when you inevitably find out and call him a monster for it. I mean, it's fair enough, but it still hurts to hear from you of all people

"Baby, baby, can't you see? I did this for you," he does his best to reassure you, but that only makes your panicking get even worse. To be fair, you did wake up in a glass box with an accidental cut on your head from where he slammed you into the wall in a state of blind rage upon him realizing you knew what he'd done, so he could understand your fear. He just wished you'd stop staring at him like he was some sort of a monster when all he wanted to do was keep you safe

He tries to give you some space in hopes that it'll help, but as your silent (and sometimes not-so-silent) resentment begins to grow he becomes more desperate and needy. Everything he does is for you, and this is how you treat him?

Of course he can't help but adore you regardless, which is why he hates having to pin you down and whack at your ankles and knees with the hammer he uses for his book restorations. "If you're going to act like a brat, I have to treat you like one," he mutters softly while you sob in his arms after, barely able to walk after the "punishment" you'd received from him

Something you're made well aware of early on is just how much he loves you (or claims to anyway) but you soon realize that's not enough and that you have to somehow find it in you to love him back. There is no other option if you want to make it out of this alive, but how could you ever love a murderer?

It takes a while, but eventually you behave well enough over time to be able to convince him to move you out of the cage and to his apartment as long as you promise to continue being good. You try to run away that same night, and back to the basement you go, along with a brand new welt on your head from where he had to knock you out in order to get you down there

You beg over and over to be let out, and he promises he will on the condition that you'll let him give you an IV drip full of something that'll keep you feeling complacent and numb (a drug he got courtesy of Paco, who stole it from his mom for Joe's own private use)

He doesn't like keeping you drugged up, but if you insist on trying to escape then there really is no other solution, now is there? Besides, he likes being able to hold you at night and much rather prefers to keep you in the comfortable environment of his place anyway

At first you flat out refuse, but finally you reluctantly agree to his conditions, unable to bear peeing in a bucket and sleeping on the floor any longer. It felt dehumanizing, like you were nothing more than a pet kept for his entertainment. At least his apartment had a real bed and a bathroom

The drugs he put you on made you feel light and free, and it was much easier for you to obey when you were dosed up with them. Things seem to be doing okay until he discovers you'd somehow switched the specially made liquid IV full of drugs with plain water, which resulted in you attempting to leave yet again. God, when will you learn that it's never going to work out for you?

This time when you wake up in the cage, you find yourself covered in blood and lying next to the dead body of your old best friend. Joe simply watches as you frantically try your best to resuscitate the already rotting corpse with several different versions of CPR to no avail

"What have you done?" You scream hysterically, your eyes wide and frightened as you look down at the carnage you found yourself in, your clothes stained crimson red in a manner that almost seemed to mock you

"Next time you pull another stunt like that, it'll be someone you truly care about who's in there with you," he states in a way that's almost cold despite the somewhat sad look in his eyes. He really didn't want it to have to come to this, but you forced his hand. "Now you're going to help me get rid of the body, or I'll have to punish you even worse than that, do you understand?"

It was then that you knew there would be no escape. He'd always find new ways to torture you, mentally and emotionally if nothing else, and each time you stepped out of line you'd only end up getting more injured from it. Not to mention he had an ample amount of planted evidence in order to frame you if he really wanted, so naturally the only thing you could do was agree

That night you found yourself back in his small apartment, wrapped up snugly in his arms as you laid in bed together. The drugs had you feeling much more calm just like usual, and you almost felt bad for everything you'd put him through. "I'm sorry," you slurred while glancing up at him, your eyes droopy from the stolen medication you were on

He just shook his head at your apology, leaning down to place a light kiss to the tip of your nose. "No, baby, don't apologize. It's okay now, I forgive you," he gently promised you, glad that you weren't trying to fight him and his affection anymore

"Mgrh... love you..." came your mumbled reply as you buried your face in his chest. You loved him. You really, truly did. He'd gotten you to see just how much he truly cared, and you loved him for it. A smile graced his lips as he tugged you in a little bit closer. It was then that he decided no matter what the cost, he was going to keep you forever, not that you seemed to mind. He was glad the two of you were finally on the same page for once

[burrowdarling]

My MVP II (18+)

Summary: What happens after the NFL Honors, especially after your ride back to the hotel. Read part one here!

Pairings: boyfriend! Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), light spanking, elevators, Joe praise, sex (p in v), MDNI

Note: Heyo! Here's part two: The Hotel Room from My MVP, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you all so much for the love on the first one, which has over 600 notes in 3 days (like what?!?) Happy Superbowl Sunday, wish we had our boys playing, but smut always help with that right?

Word Count: 2.8k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 @hotburreaux @lilfreakjez Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You tried your best to keep pace with Joe’s long legs as you trailed behind him, fingers knotted through his. He Handed his keys off to the valet, his face expressionless as he did so. You felt your cheeks flush at the knowledge of what you had just done, knowing some stranger was about to get into the same car. Trying to keep your face down, you mumbled a thank you to the man as you passed him by. The walk wasn’t long, but your short legs were no match for Joe's long strides. 

“Joey, can we slow down? It’s hard to walk in these damn things,” you pleaded, wishing you had taken them off and reaped the consequences later. 

He wordlessly obeyed your request, slowing his pace slightly so you could catch up. Joe took the opportunity to release your hand, slipping his own protectively around your waist to keep you close. You walked through the sliding doors of the hotel lobby, Joe making a beeline for the elevators. The wait was short, glad to have gotten an elevator all to yourselves. Joe pressed the ‘close doors’ button as fast as he could, making you giggle.

“Someone’s eager,” you said, trying to spin to face him. You were feigning for his touch, still riding the high from your first orgasm. It was nothing compared to what Joe could give you, him knowing your body better than you did.

Joe pulled you tightly into his front, the feel of his cock straining against his dress pants making your breath hitch in your throat. The thought that this could stop on any floor, anyone could walk in had your pulse thrumming. Joe leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, mouth dangerously close to your ear.

“Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” Joe asked as more of a rhetorical question, “how badly I wanted to rip this dress off of you before we even got out of the car at the venue?”

He slipped the back of your dress up, keeping your front covered. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden breeze on your backside, feeling more exposed than you were in the car. You were shocked, unsure of what to do with this new side of Joe. He was always so reserved when it came to you, but tonight was like he had flipped a switch of his own.

“I’m regretting letting you put your excuse for fucking panties back on right now,” he groaned, giving your ass a smack and a squeeze. Joe took the chance to grind himself against you, a moan slipping from your lips at the feel of him, desperate to have him against your bare skin

You made it out of the elevator unscathed, in a desperate pursuit to find your room. You fumbled with the keycard, unsure as to why Joe entrusted you with the job considering his composure was much better than yours. He waited patiently though, large hands on your shoulders while you went through your bag to find it, slipping it out of your purse and only dropping it to the floor once before you both made it in the confines of your room. 

The moment you passed the threshold, Joe was on you. You had only taken a few steps in as your back was against the door as it closed. Joe’s mouth was everywhere on your skin, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

He walked you backwards to the center of the room, mouth never leaving yours. When he was satisfied with your placement, he left one final kiss to your lips before parting from you. You groaned at the loss of contact, confusion over your features when he took a seat in the armchair. 

“I want you to strip for me, sweetheart,” Joe growled out, eyes heavy with desire. His eyes were so blown with lust, you’d give him anything he asked of you. 

You walked towards him silently as you spun around, needing help unzipping your dress. You felt his large warm hands move up your back before settling on the top of your back. Joe gave you a short stroke of his thumb as a way of saying he was there, using his other hand to move the zipper down to the base of your spine. You walked back towards the middle of the room, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you turned back to face your man.

You hesitated for a brief second, processing his request fully under his domineering gaze before he gently nodded towards you as a sign to go ahead. He dropped you a wink before giving you a small smile, reminding you that your Joey was still here, even if he was putting on this persona tonight. You wanted to please him, give him the proper celebration he deserved. 

You pulled your hair to one side, exposing your shoulder and the skimpy strap of your dress. You locked eyes with him, taking your hair and moving the strap to slip down your arm. His eyes never left yours, licking his lips as he was unable to settle into the chair fully. You could tell he was ready to jump your bones, holding himself back to preserve this moment for as long as possible. You moved to drop the strap from your other shoulder and watched as the fabric pooled around your ankles. You stepped out of it as Joe moved from his stop on the chair. He had you in his arms, tossing you like you weighed absolutely nothing back against the pillows on the bed. You erupted in laughter, feeling heat pool in your stomach at his sheer size and strength.

You were laid back on the bed, knees bent and your heels sticking into the duvet. You watched Joe as he started to rid himself of his clothes. You admired him, feeling a strong pull of lust and love for the man before you. A well of pride sat heavy on your chest that you were able to shower him with the love and affection he deserved, to treat him like the MVP you believed he was to you. You watched as he reached around his neck, getting ready to slip the chains off for the night.

“Keep them on,” you spoke softer than you meant to, breathless at the sight of him, “you never wear jewelry, I wanna enjoy it.”

Joe nodded at your request, beginning to remove his jacket while leaving the chains around his neck. His skin was taught, his muscled chest finally being within your reach after he wore that suit all night. You got up from your place on the bed, moving on your knees to meet Joe where he was standing. He took the last of his clothing off, tossing it to the side before turning towards you. You took your opportunity, slipping a delicate hand up his chest and settling on one of his chains, giving a soft pull towards you. Joe groaned at the feeling of the taught jewelry at the nape of his neck, nipping at your lips in praise. His hands settled on your ass, gripping your cheeks in both hands before giving them a tender squeeze. You gasped at the sudden touch, Joe capitalized on the moment to slip his tongue in your mouth. Moving one hand to the middle of your back to support your body. 

It was raw and full of passion, unfiltered and encompassing the pent up emotions of the day.  Your hands were lost in his hair, gripped whatever you could to keep your head from spinning. Joe laid you back on the mattress, getting to his knees and pulling you to the edge of the bed. Much like he did earlier, he took the time to take off each one of your heels

“As sexy as these are, I wanna be able to move you around freely and not risk taking a heel to the face,” Joe joked lightly, slipping off your heel as he kissed up your calf. You nodded in agreement knowing you weren’t the most coordinated person. Even in intense moments like this, he always knew how to keep you comfortable. He repeated the same on your other leg, taking the time to move slowly up your body. Joe didn’t leave an inch of skin untouched by his lips as he settled at the apex of your thighs. 

“God you’re fucking dripping for me, sweet girl. How do you want me first?” Joe asked as he toyed with you, stroking the area just above your pubic bone causing you to stir.

“What do you mean first?” you question him, you did already finish once tonight. Your mind went blank at the possibility of just how much he wanted to wear you out tonight.

“You heard me, I plan on getting you to cum multiple times tonight. How many times do you think I can make you finish him? Once, twice, maybe three times if I’m lucky” Joe said with such confidence in his voice that your body trembled with excitement. 

“Though I think we both know I don’t need luck for that. I know just what makes you tick, exactly what my girl likes” Joe said as he brought his hand down between your legs, swiping a finger through your slit before moving up to circle your clit with his thumb.

The simplicity of the touch already had your back arching off the bed, having been craving to have his hands on you for hours. He took his free hand and brought two fingers up to your lips, tapping them to get you to open. He slipped them inside, thoroughly wetting them like you did earlier. Your eyes stayed locked on his gaze as he slipped them past your lips with a pop. You could tell he was imagining his cock in your mouth, drawing a lazy smile to your lips as the later probability. 

He brought the wet digits down to your core, slipping them inside of you as he pumped them in and out slowly to start. You were already beginning to lose it, your  body wound so tightly, it wouldn’t take much to get you there. He increased his pace as he changed the angle of his fingers, moving them in the ‘come here’ motion as he kept hitting that certain spot inside of you. In perfect rhythm, you were on fire from his touch as you were seconds from losing it, his movements unrelenting. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles going white at the sheer pleasure he was causing your body. You felt electric, a simple spark could send you reeling. You tossed your head from side to side against the pillow, eyes clenched shut from the pleasure coursing through you. You were so close to the edge, fighting to get to the point of that sweet release.

“I'm so close, Joey. I wanna cum for you like a good girl,” you moaned, stirring something inside of Joe at your words. It was as if he took your words as his own motivation to get you there, feeling how close you were.

“That’s it, cum all over my fingers baby,” Joe praised as your high ripped through your body, feeling a bit sensitive from your previous orgasm. “Number two will be with my mouth, I gotta get a taste of you.”

Before your mind could uncloud from the high, Joe’s tongue was already slipping inside of you lapping at whatever he could get. Your hands settled into his hair, pulling him closer to your body as you possibly could. You were a moaning mess, earning a groan from Joe in response that only made things feel more intense from the vibrations. It didn’t take long for you to finish on his face, grinding down to ride out your high that came so fast out of left field. This one feeling more intense than the first, the realization dawning on you that you had just squirted all over Joe. A small pit formed in your stomach that he would be upset somehow, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him between your legs.

His gaze met yours, telling you everything you needed to know. His pupils were blown so wide with lust. A look that said ‘don’t you dare feel bad for that’ while he made no move to part from you. He tenderly licked as your breathing even out, lapping at your juices like he was deprived. He moved to make his way up your body, flipping you around and lifting your hips so you were on your knees. He climbed on the bed to settle behind you, leaning down to bring his mouth by your ear. 

“You have no idea how hot that was, watching you do that. I can’t wait for number three to be around my cock, I already know your cunt is so fucking wet for me,” Joe growled out as he brought his mouth down to you, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You hadn’t spoken much, mumbling back an incoherent string of sounds that were meant to come out as words. Joe laughed behind you, pulling you up from your hands to rest back against him. You leaned your head on his shoulder, taking the time to breath before he would wreck you with his unrelenting thrusts. He gave your temple a kiss, gripping your breasts and toying with your nipples. He already had that knot in your stomach forming again, the pressure building in your center with an ache to have him inside of you.

“Need you inside me, Joe,” you whined against him, reaching your hands around to get any part of him in your grasp. 

“I can’t deny my baby what she wants, good to hear your voice still works for now,” Joe said as he moved you back to your hands and knees. You arched your back and wiggled your hips, ready to have him inside you. You pushed back against him, feeling his hands on your hips to stop your movements. A low whine slipped past your lips, ready to beg for his cock to be inside you already when he slipped in without warning.

You moaned loudly at the fullness of having him inside you, dropping your head in relief at the contact. Joe’s grip on your hips was firm as if he was taking out all of his pent up tension and the nerves from the night out on your body. You weren’t complaining, relishing in the thrusts and feel of his body coming into contact with yours after each one.

He pulled out quickly, flipping you onto your back before quickly finding his way back inside of you. He dropped to his forearms above you, caging you into his body as you locked eyes.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, i wanna see your face when I make you come undone on my cock,” Joe said as he deepened his thrust more than you thought was possible.

Your hands were clawing at his back, trying to ground yourself into the moment, every delicious stroke making you lose more and more of your sense of control. You felt yourself tightening around his cock, your release on the edge of tipping. It was as if Joe knew exactly where you were, dropping one of his hands between you and rolled your clit with his thumb and forefinger, the touch acting like a catalyst to your orgasm. You were a mess below him, arching up into his body as your nail raked down his toned back. 

Your release brought Joe to his own, painting your walls with his own cum shortly after you. He slowed his strokes, the both of you feeling sensitive to the slightest touch after your highs. You both laid there and caught your breath.You brough one of your hands to cup his cheek, Joe leaving into the gentle touch in the aftermath of everything.

“Congratulations, Joey. That was way better than any afterparty’” you said, giving him a peck to the nose as you giggled. Joe’s hand found their way to the sides of your face, still propped up on his forearms.

“Let’s get you cleaned up baby,” Joe said as he picked you up in his arms to bring you into the bathroom. Your body felt tired, but your desire was still high.

“Round two in the shower?” you questioned, wiggling your eyebrows at him making him let out a laugh and you to pout, “I didn't get to reward you properly. Someone was too caught up in my pussy to let me.”

“Let’s get in there first and go from there you minx, a man needs a moment to recover.”

[thoughtfulfiction]

Shift in the Routine II

Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Hope this one gives you all the feels. Joe requests are open!

masterlist

“Can you just…tell me exactly what happened?From the beginning.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face, thinking about the various ups and downs you’d been through emotionally the last few days. “There’s nothing new to tell, I told him I need to think about things and he was supportive of that. He really hurt me Rach, I can’t just—forget about it and move on.”

“I completely understand where you’re coming from. It’s just,” she pauses, trying to find the words. “What about—”

“The game on Monday night? Under no circumstances am I watching that,” you promise her, crossing your arms in protest of what was expected of you.

“Bengals defense missing a tackle? Likely place for them to be. This game is going to give me an ulcer.” You slammed your drink on the table, putting your head in your hands in hopes that they’d get a stop if you looked away for a bit.

Rachel watched silently, still trying to understand the rules of this football thing. She found you more entertaining than the game most of the time.

“Oh my god, how many times are we going to go for it on fourth and short and not convert?” This season had been full of trying moments, forcing you think back on the few times you snuck in to catch a peak of what Joe was seeing on film when these things would happen.

“FACEMASK?” You yell. “There’s no way in the world they just miss that? Hello? They’re literally trying to rip his head off, that should’ve been a first dow—wait,” you pause, standing up out of your seat for the first time in a few hours. “Is he…is he limping? He’s limping, right?”

Rachel sits up, joining in your concern but also slightly amused at the situation, considering the fact that you said you weren’t going to watch the game and the two of you had been glued to the tv before kickoff. “No matter how much you don’t want to admit it to anyone, including yourself, you still care about him. A lot.”

“I do care,” you swallowed, feeling like your heart was in your stomach at the thought of being in pain. That sleeve didn’t look like it was going to protect anything. “Maybe I care a little too much? Which is exactly why I’m in this predicament. Because let’s be real, on paper? We do not make sense. He doesn’t even flinch spending $3 million and I cry a little if I add too many things to my Amazon cart.”

Rachel laughs, tossing a few pieces of Chex mix into her mouth. “That’s because your job is stingy with raises. And with Joe? Just talk to him. Go see him tomorrow, give him his gift and go from there, see how you feel about everything.”

You admired her ability to put a positive spin on a situation that you felt was pretty much doomed. Maybe you could have one more day of happiness with him tomorrow before walking away for good. That may be your best bet, to just cut all communication and quit cold turkey. After his birthday of course. Dumping someone before their birthday just sounded really terrible and you’d spent a long time getting him this special present so there was no way you weren’t going to see the look on his face in person as he opened it.

The drive felt uncomfortably long. They had gotten a much needed win and he seemed happy enough postgame. But what if he didn’t want to see you? You’d been so focused inward on your feelings and what you needed to do that you really hadn’t had the time to even wonder what Joe’s thought process was. Just in case he wasn’t in the mood for company, you knocked on the door instead of letting yourself in.

Clad in a purple Nike hoodie you remembered borrowing a few times, there he stood in front of you with a blank look on his face.

Solid start.

“Why did you knock? You could’ve just come in.” His hair looks extra fluffy, like he woke up not too long ago, taking it extremely easy after coming home late and taking quite a few hits in last night’s game.

You pushed down the nerves, determined to make today neither awkward nor painful for all parties involved. “Happy birthday. I brought your favorite smoothie from Rune and…did a package come in this morning?”

He thanks you, grabbing the drink out of your hand and closing the door behind you. You can tell he’s moving gingerly. “Yeah I had them put it in the garage. So…are we still—”

“In relationship limbo? Definitely. But today is your day and I’m not a monster,” you joke as a smile forms on his face. And I wanted to see you for myself to make sure you weren’t going to lie. How’s your knee?”

Joe looks at you affectionately, almost visibly resisting the urge to reach out to you. His first instinct was always to give you a comforting squeeze or a gentle hand on your shoulder as a form of reassurance, he just wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate given the circumstances.“Careful, it almost sounded like you were worried about me for a second there.”

“I do not care about you. I care about my favorite football team’s starting quarterback and his well being for the rest of the season. That’s all. Don’t read too much into it.” You were lying through your teeth and both of you knew it.

He nods slightly, catching you looking at his leg or any sign of pain in his face if he so much as leaned over the counter. And if you still had a soft spot for him somewhere in there that was enough. “I feel ok. It’s sore but it’s Tuesday and the day after games is always touch and go. You know that.”

You quickly learned just how exhausting some postgame days were. His body bruised easily so sometimes he looked like he’d honestly been in a fight of some kind. And lost…badly. Moving around was slow and painful as if he were closer to being put in a retirement home than he was to playing another bruising game the next week. But the next day was usually back to normal and you were always in awe at his ability to bounce back. Having everything laid out in front of you like this made it easy to understand why he had such a strict schedule. Eating and sleeping and everything in between were catered to help him recover.

“Are you ready to open your gift?”

Joe sighs, stating that he doesn’t need more presents but you give him a look and he knows it’s best to just follow you to the garage. “I didn’t realize how big this is,” he notes, a hint of apprehension in his voice, “you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

He runs his fingers along the top of wrapping, deep in thought for a few seconds before you urge him to open it. Carefully peeling back the paper, Joe pulls back the layers to reveal a one of a kind Seinfeld painting.

“Before you say anything, look at the back,” you tell him when he looks at you like he’s about to open his mouth. On the back is a handwritten note from Jerry Seinfeld himself. Joe’s jaw actually drops and he’s rendered speechless, silently rereading the words over and over. “It goes great with the pants, that I somehow knew you’d be wearing today. How predictable.”

He shrugs and looks down at the well worn blue pants, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “What can I say?”

“That you’re a millionaire who’s also a serial outfit repeater? What would Anna Wintour say if she could see you now?”

“She’d probably say that I pull off the lazy look very well,” he retorts with a laugh. Looking back at the painting and then at you, Joe feels a rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. He had no idea how you got this but he’s sure it took a long time and you went to great lengths to make it possible, to make him happy. “Thank you,” he whispers, suddenly not trusting his voice.

You find yourself in his arms before you even register that your body has moved, clinging onto him like your life depends on it. Part of you wanted to stay, be in this moment and let yourself fall back into the routine of a grueling season with the person who clearly brought you an immense joy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Joe was your peace, your picnic on a sunny day and it was scary to see how easily the two of you hadn’t missed a beat, teasing each other and talking like lifelong friends who could read each other like a book. The thing that was breaking your heart the most is that Joe had become your best friend, the one you could talk to about any and everything while simultaneously making your heart beat out of your chest at the effortless romance that came from this playful and unexpected connection.

But was that really enough? When you gave his body one more squeeze before stepping back, Joe couldn’t help the awful thought going through his mind that this could be the last hug. Not wanting to tear himself away from the embrace, he awkwardly and very hesitantly lets you go, standing alone in the garage after you wish him happy birthday again and leave. All that progress he’s thought the two of you had just made was out the door and he was stuck with the coolest gift he’d ever received and a sense of emptiness inside him that only you could fill.

The next day in the facility he was locked in. Focused solely on football from the moment he walked in, went through walkthrough as he tried to avoid the Hard Knocks crew and conducted his weekly press conference like it was another day. Only after he got in the car did he allow himself to really acknowledge that he was missing you. Yesterday was supposed to have helped and it did, but it also just made him realize that life was just better with you around and he couldn’t keep letting you walk away.

He’d admittedly been quiet last night at dinner with his parents and when they asked if he was okay he just told them that the season was weighing on him a bit, not exactly ready to divulge the fact that he was seeing someone and had potentially ruined it all in the same breath. That may result in too many questions he wasn’t ready to answer. So he scheduled time to speak with the one person he could always turn to for guidance and perspective.

And 24 hours later, as soon as he walked in the door, he set his stuff down and went upstairs to his room for an emergency Zoom meeting with his therapist. After the session was over and he had a moment to think, he pondered his therapist’s words urging him to think about one defining moment that encapsulates your relationship to guide him in his next steps.

The two of you had finished eating dinner during the bye week on the couch. Sushi boxes were discarded on the table as you forced him to watch some cooking show. You slid your feet under his leg, desperately searching for warmth in places where the blanket just wasn’t enough.

“Your feet cold again?” You nod. “Babe, you might have circulation issues or something, should probably get that checked out,” he grins, lifting himself up so he can grab your legs and put them in his lap. His touch instantly brings heat to your limbs, shooing away the frigid air and replacing it with a soft glow that you’re pretty sure has surrounded you since you and Joe made things official.

Once you’ve warmed up enough you cross over to the other side of the couch to wrap yourself up in him, as close as you possibly can. Nights like this feel like his own little peace of heaven, your arm resting casually on his chest and your bodies practically glued to each other, becoming one simultaneous heartbeat. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head, laying there in complete bliss, all of worries about football, the team and their season out the window for a bit. The weight of carrying a franchise is easily lifted when you’re around, keeping his feet on the ground in times when he would have his head in the clouds. For one second everything makes sense and it’s perfect…until it hits him square in the chest.

He’s in love.

Joe comes back to himself, snapping out of that bye week memory wiping a tear that he hadn’t realize was coming down his face. His heart tightens at recognizing why he’d lashed out at you and said those horrible things. It wasn’t football stress at all. It was fear driving him, he reverted back to the person he was trying to work on. And instead of being honest, he’d built an emotional wall around himself disguised as work stress to keep himself from saying those three words at a time he thought could be too soon for the two of you and scare you off. Because it was definitely terrifying him, even if he felt it. And now he may have lost you as a result of his actions.

On Friday, he actually looked forward to enjoy the off day, after he got his morning workout in at the facility. And then you texted him to tell him you were walking into the house.

You looked nervous and he didn’t like it. “Is this a bad time?” He shakes his head no, unsure if he wants to do this right now. The quarterback was really regretting coming home right about now. Being at the stadium watching the guys play golf would’ve been a much faster but still painful death. This was just torture.

“I’ve been thinking…a lot. And,” you take in a deep breath, hoping that filling your lungs with lots of air can make what you have to say a bit easier.

Joe pales, thinking that you’ve put off breaking up with him because of his birthday. He wants to brace himself for impact. He should respect your wishes, whether he agrees or not, but you both know he isn’t one to go down without a fight. “Before you dump me, I just—I have to tell you how sorry I am. You bulldozed through my life like freight train with your royalty jokes and your horrible day and I knew I needed more. Wanted to know everything about you. But I’m not great at this. Emotions aren’t easy to talk about and I usually pride myself on not showing them and you’ve brought them out of me. So when things got a little too real, I shut down. You’re one of the greatest things in my life but I really messed it up.”

“Joe…” you say quietly, begging the tears not to come.

He stops you, “if I don’t get this out, I might not get another chance. I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t want to be around you when the truth is that sometimes it’s all I want. You mentioned schedules and—and routines. Nowhere in my plans did it include falling for someone this soon and I pushed you away because I was scared, not because you’re a distraction but because—being with you makes me have to admit that the things I feel for you aren’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m sorry I hurt you in the midst of realizing that.”

You look at him, trying to memorize every one of his features. The natural bags under his eyes are a bit more pronounced, a slight glimmer in his ocean eyes give away all of the emotions written on his face. He looks devastated, a look all too familiar to you since you and the entire country have seen him look dejected and defeated several times throughout the season. But there’s something more distressing hidden behind his gaze. An indescribable amount of worry etched across his features.

Joe looks…heartbroken.

The honesty and raw intensity of his words are almost enough to render you speechless, but you came here for a reason.

You clear your throat before you speak, biting back your own emotions. “Joseph I’m not breaking up with you. Believe me, I wanted to and I thought about all the reasons why maybe I should. Because I don’t think I’m built for this life,” you look down at your feet, heaving out another breath before looking up at him and holding out your hand for him to hold.

“None of this is easy and sometimes, yeah I doubt myself. And you are very moody for like half the year. But there’s nowhere else I want to be and no one else I’d rather be with. Through the honeymoon phase or 60 years from now when when we’re senile and yelling at each other about the tv remote. Mostly me yelling you staring angrily but—as long as we’re together, I really don’t care. What I’m saying is…I don’t want easy. I want you.”

The tension in his shoulders is released almost immediately. “So you’re saying you’re stuck with me?” He laughs, a sense of relief taking over him. “And you aren’t just saying that because you haven’t had Boca in almost two weeks, right?”

“Your ability to get me their Maple Mascarpone Cheesecake whenever I want is not the main reason why I love you. That’s just one of many.”

You take a second to realize what you just said, opening and closing your mouth a few times but no words are coming out.

Joe’s smiling so big his face is starting to hurt. “You just said you love me.”

Tilting your head to look at him, laughing a little. You can’t believe you let it slip out like that. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Say it again,” he says softly, squeezing your hand and taking a few steps toward you.

You shake your head, one of your hands finding their way into his hair as you pull him in.

The man’s breath hitches as he melts into your touch, the kiss slowly putting him back together, free from all the anxious energy he’d put aside as a defense mechanism. “Joseph, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

The sound of your words radiate against his lips, sending a never ending shiver down his spine.

"I love you too,” he utters with such sweetness you feel like your heart is exploding. “And I missed you.”

He leans in and pours two weeks of apologies and love into the kiss and after all this time of not being close to him, you never want to let him go again. You eventually do separate, only because you need air, and giggle at the fact that you actually still haven’t let each other go. With your fingers intertwined, you lead him upstairs. “Do you need help packing?” Joe steals another quick peck, whispering yes because he’s not letting you out of his sight until it’s time for him to leave tomorrow.

None of this was part of the plan but now that your soul has found its match, you really don’t have a choice but to dive in.

[v6quewrlds]

LOVE TALK, JOE BURROW.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow x wife!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀1.9k.

summary⠀⁎⠀with your toddler off with the cousins at her grandparents' house, it's a quiet night in the burrow household. you take advantage of the quiet to spend some one-on-one time soaking in your warm tub.

author's note⠀⁎⠀requested by an anon, i hope you like it bae <3 changed up the layout a little bit, we'll see if i stick to it lmao warnings⠀⁎⠀suggestive at worst. hubby!joe, dad!joe, frosted tips!joe, warnings about joe being a softie in general.

"Thank you, baby. That feels so good," you moaned, your eyes drifting closed as Joe's strong hands gently kneaded your tense shoulder muscles. You leaned back into him, feeling the warmth of the water and his body enveloping you. His touch was magic, easing the constant ache that seemed to follow you around lately.

"You're welcome," Joe murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated through you. He kissed the top of your head, his breath tickling your scalp. "How's that?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Perfect."

The conversation lulled for a moment, the only sound the soft splashing of the water. Joe's fingers danced over your skin, tracing the curve of your stomach down to your thighs before returning to massage the tension out of your neck. You felt a rush of warmth spread through your body, the stress of the week dissipating into the steamy air.

"So, have you thought more about the birth plan?" Joe asked, his voice careful, as if tiptoeing around a minefield. You two have had this conversation before, but you had never really put a bow on the details.

You exhaled deeply, your body sinking deeper into his warmth. "You know me, I'm flexible. But I do want an epidural this time. I was a champ with Amara, but I don't need to prove my strength twice."

Joe's grip tightened around your shoulders in an anxious squeeze. "Well, that's my only concern. No more natural births for you. I don't want to see you in that much pain again."

You leaned your head back, peering at him with a smirk. "Were you worried? You were about 10 seconds away from passing out when Amara was born."

Joe rolled his eyes, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. "I was not! I'm just saying, if modern medicine has a solution to that kind of pain, I want you to take it."

You chuckled, the sound echoing off the tiles. "Alright, alright. Point taken." You paused, brushing your fingers against your bump. "But other than that, let's just keep it low-key. Just you, me, and the midwife. I love our moms but I don't need an audience this time around."

Joe nodded, his eyes flickering with relief. "Deal. Just as long as you're comfortable." His thumbs dug into the knots in your shoulders, and you couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. "We're still doing a water birth at home? I have the pool in our Amazon cart but haven't pulled the trigger yet."

"Yes, Joe. At home, with the pool," you said, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. "I feel like you're more excited about the water birth than I am."

"What? It's just... I don't know. It seems like a cool experience," Joe replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but failing miserably.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound rich and warm in the stillness of your bathroom sanctuary. "Cool? Having a baby is cool?"

Joe shrugged, his hands pausing in their ministrations. "Well, it's not like we're throwing a party, but it's definitely an experience. And I'd rather you be comfortable than anything else."

Your eyes popped open as a sudden jolt of movement from within your belly made you jump. "Whoa, baby girl's definitely got her daddy's athleticism," you said, placing a hand over the spot where you had felt the kick.

Joe leaned forward to peer at your stomach, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Was that a kick?" His hand hovered over your belly, waiting for another sign of life.

"Yeah," you said, your eyes shining with affection. "Keep talking, she's a fan of your voice."

Joe grinned, leaning in closer so his cheek was against yours. "Hey, angel," he whispered, his voice tender and filled with wonder. "You're gonna be here so soon, and we can't wait to see you. You have the best big sister in the whole world, she's so excited to play with you." You felt the baby give another kick, and Joe's smile grew even wider as his hand finally felt your little baby Burrow's response.

"My boobs are killing me," you said with a grimace, breaking the momentary silence. The baby's kicks had subsided, but the pressure in your breasts remained. Joe laughed wholeheartedly, his hands moving from your shoulders to cup your breasts gently.

"You're telling me," he teased, his thumbs circling your soft nipples. "They're like two basketballs about to pop." You shot him a glare, but the sensation felt heavenly. You leaned into his touch, letting out a contented sigh.

"Asshole. You did this to me, remember?" you murmured, your voice thick with both pleasure and frustration.

"What can I say? I missed seeing them all heavy like this," Joe said, his voice a playful purr in your ear. He pinched them gently, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers. You couldn't help but let out a low whine, the sensation shooting straight to your core. "But seriously, baby, you're so sexy right now." He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Sexy but swollen," you corrected, though you couldn't help but feel a flutter of pride at his compliment. You reached up to stroke his cheek with your thumb, feeling the two-day-old stubble against your palm. "How do you feel about doing something with Amara before the due date? I read that it's good to spend some one-on-one time with the older sibling before the new baby arrives."

Joe nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, your mom mentioned that to me, too. Maybe we could take her to the zoo closer to the date?" He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You considered it. "That's a good idea. She loves animals." You leaned into his touch, enjoying the way his fingers danced over your swollen breasts. The intimacy of the moment made you feel cherished, despite the weight of your pregnancy.

"It's not like she'll remember the zoo trip in a few years," Joe pointed out, his voice a whisper against your skin. "But she'll remember the attention she got from us before her world gets flipped upside down."

"True," you said, your breath hitching as Joe's touch grew more insistent. "Do you think she fully understands what's happening?"

"Probably not," Joe replied, his breath hot against your ear. "But she'll get it when she sees her little sister for the first time." His hands slid down to your bump, his palms cupping the underside of your belly. He gently lifted the bump up, shifting the weight of your baby girl from your spine for just a brief moment. You sighed in relief as your head fell back against Joe's shoulder again.

"I hope she's as excited as we are," you murmured, your hand joining his on your stomach. You watched in awe as your daughter began to kick in response to your touch. "Look at her go."

Joe's eyes never left the sight of your baby moving beneath your skin. "I can't believe we made this happen," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "Two little miracles."

Your hand squeezed his. "We make a good team," you said softly, your gaze meeting his. Joe's eyes met yours, finding the love and certainty that had carried you two through so much already.

"Of course we do, babe," he agreed, his voice soft with emotion. "And we're gonna rock this whole two kids thing, just like we do everything else."

You felt a sudden surge of love for him, your heart swelling in your chest. You turned your head fully, your lips finding his in a soft, lingering kiss. "Thank you for this weekend, Joey. I really needed it."

He reciprocated the kiss eagerly, his eyes smiling when you pulled away. "Anything for you, babe." His hands drifted down to your thighs, his touch light and exploratory. "With how this season is going, these moments with you are the only thing keeping me sane. If you need anything else, just let me know."

You couldn't argue with him. You felt like a new woman, the tension of the disappointing season and the weight of your pregnancy anxiety both lifted away in the blissful weekend. "Mm, I definitely needed this more than I thought," you admitted, a shy smile curving your lips.

Joe's grin widened, and he leaned in to kiss you, his hands still resting lightly on top of your thighs. "Good," he murmured. "Because I'm gonna take you to bed and make sure you sleep for the rest of the night."

Your eyes widened, and you turned to look at him over your shoulder. "Now, that's a plan I can get behind," you said, your voice a purr.

Joe stood, water sluicing off his muscular form, and offered you a hand. You took it, letting him help you out of the tub, the water running off your curves like a waterfall. He wrapped a towel around you, his eyes raking over your body with a softness that had only grown since you had conceived your first child.

"Alright, let's go," Joe said, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering candles on the nightstand. He gently laid you down on the soft, plush bed and began to dry you off with the towel, his touch lingering on your damp skin.

You watched him, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the warm towel. "You're too good to me," you murmured, your voice sleepy with satisfaction.

Joe kissed the top of your head, his eyes glittering with love. "Not nearly enough, babe," he said, his voice soft. He finished drying you off, his touch lingering on your swollen belly as he worked your lotion into your skin. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Your heart swelled with love, and you reached out to trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Joe leaned down to kiss your stomach, his lips pressing softly against the firm mound of your growing baby. You felt the baby kick in response and you couldn't help but laugh. "I think you're already her favorite," you said, watching Joe with a warmth in your eyes.

He grinned up at you, his own eyes alight with love and excitement. "Well, I've got to start early. Can't have you stealing all the love, now can I?"

You chuckled, your hand sliding over your belly to rest on top of Joe's. "You're going to spoil the two of them rotten, I just know it."

Joe looked up at you, his smile turning mischievous. "Is that a challenge?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was full. "No, it's a fact," you said, your voice filled with affection. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Joe leaned over you, his hands framing your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as he kissed you deeply. The kiss was slow and gentle, a promise of the passion you would share again once your baby girl was born. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the warmth of the water still clinging to your bodies.

As the two of you broke apart, Joe whispered, "I can't wait to see your beautiful face when you hold her for the first time." Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Me too," you said, your voice soft with emotion.

[avis-writeshq]

hello 😘 aaron hotchner drabble request!

anything with jealousy and possessiveness but in a natural normal way not a joe goldberg way haha

and also - aaron sees you wearing his hoodie/shirt drabble!

thank you and your work is amazing!

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, aaron is a little (a lot) upset warnings: misogynistic moron >:( reader wears a skirt, if you get the reference ily a/n: i wrote it and the more i wrote the more i realised that it... really isn't the same at all :( if you want me to redo it, please send me an ask !! thank you lovely <3 wc: 631

“You would think that he would know by now,” Emily hums, her tone disapproving and mostly disappointed as she watches from a distance as Captain Pembroke attempts to chat you up. 

“He’s a captain?” Spencer asks in genuine amazement. 

“For NYPD’s major crime unit,” JJ confirms, her arms crossed over her chest. “He tried to hit on Emily a couple days ago, and on Amy from the fourth floor. I wouldn’t be surprised it he has some sort of sealed file on him.”

Emily scoffs a little, rolling her eyes. “Sounds like a charmer.”

“The bigger question is, does Hotch know?” Derek pipes up as he glances in your direction.

“Well…” JJ lets out a nervous laugh. “I kind of hope he doesn’t.”

You offer a curt smile in Pembroke’s direction, doing everything in your power to subtly signal that you really should be leaving. Fiddling with the loose threads of your shirt, averting eye contact, taking tiny steps away in hopes that he’ll somehow get the message. It isn’t surprising that he doesn’t. 

“I beat my PR yesterday, you know,” he brags, flexing his muscles. You think you’re about to throw up as he continues, “129. Impressive, right, hun?”

“The average amount of pounds an untrained man can lift is 135,” you respond dismissively in an attempt to lean into Spencer’s way of getting people to leave him alone, but Pembroke doesn’t seem to hear you. 

“You know, sweets, I don’t think you should even be in this job. You’re far too foxy,” he says with a wink, “You’d be better in a different job. I mean, women aren’t fit for these types of roles. They get too emotional.”

You refrain from punching his face as it will only prove his point. “Listen, Ken–”

“It’s Keith–”

“Kyle,” you amend with a sickly smile. “I do need to get these files to Agent Rossi, so if you’ll excuse me…”

“Aw, come on, it was only a joke,” Pembroke says with a laugh. “It’ll be fine–”

“There you are.”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt more relieved in your life. Aaron’s hand rests flat against your back, dangerously close to the waistband of your skirt and he stands behind you. Aaron is a good couple of inches taller than Pembroke, especially when he stands at his full height, his dark eyed narrowed and his jaw clenched. 

“Did you need something from my agent, Captain?” He asks lowly. 

“Just pleasant conversation,” Pembroke responds dismissively.

Aaron raises an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from your uncomfortable frown to the captain’s smug face. “We have three missing women and you are disturbing an investigation by disrupting my agents. I suggest you get your act together before I report you to your superiors for harassment.”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, guiding you by the small of your back towards his makeshift office in the New York Police Office. He doesn’t say a word until the door is firmly closed and the blinds are drawn. 

“Are you alright?” He asks softly, taking a step towards you and curling his fingers by your cheekbone. “I heard what he said. Do you want me to report it?”

“I’ve dealt with worse.” You don’t mean to sound so honest when you say it and his frown deepens.

“That’s not okay, honey.” Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll report it. You know how it is with cases like these; someone just has to put the first step forward.”

You smile at that, poking at his cheeks. “I thought you were going to hit him.”

“I thought you would’ve beat me to it,” he admits through a quiet laugh, giving you a proper kiss. “We shouldn’t make this into a habit.”

“Tell that to Kimberly.”

“That isn’t even close.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

events page

[icallhimjoey]

what if.......... we were seen? if joe really saw us? eh???

ok so shes rusty, and also omg pls i dont EVER want to be perceived, but, you know what its like, leave a beautiful vague request and i'll weirdly fill in some gaps for you <3 thanks for sending this in! hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 2.5K

---

Seen

“How do you always... just, know?”

One day you’ll learn what exactly it is that he sees. What changes.

“Hm? Know what?”

What minuscule little differences he notices in your face. You have no idea what your expression does exactly, but you know it must be practically undetectable, because no one else ever mentions it. Ever questions it. Questions you.

Meanwhile, Joe will spot it from across a busy room without issue.

“How do you know when the alarms in my brain are getting scarily close to going off? You always catch it just before... I don’t—... how do you know?”

He had caught it tonight at a small party that organically happened after you’d all had dinner together. He’d hauled you home just before anxiety was going to start making you breathe a little different. You had let him pull you by the hand into the cold air that instantly made you feel calmer, even though you weren’t even fully aware of any looming issue yourself.

“I don’t know. I just do.”

“Yea but—... how?”

You had been talking to some of the girls as you’d all huddled together in the kitchen, one of them showing pictures on her phone, scrolling through, whilst all of you marveled at the badly decorated rooms of the house she just bought.

“Oh my God, this is massive?”

“So much potential!”

“It’s got great bones, doesn’t it?”

It was all girls, having a loud girl-conversation, all holding girl-drinks, and making girl-comments which suddenly got broken up when Joe stepped into the circle.

“Hey—”

“Joe, look how much space you could’ve had for like, half the cost.”

The phone got twisted so that Joe could see a photograph of a large back garden that showed the back of this newly purchased house. Joe frowned at it, had to squint a little to get a good look, and then joked, “But live in Croydon? No thanks.” before grabbing the arm that held the phone, smiling, and telling her it was actually lovely.

He easily got sucked into the conversation, knew exactly what to say to make the majority laugh with a silly comment and a silly face. After scrolling through a couple more pictures, he looked up and gave you a questioning look.

You gave the questioning look right back, unsure of what he meant exactly. Do you want another drink? What do you think about this house? Are you all right? Are the dirty dishes that clutter up almost all of the kitchen counters bothering you as much as they are bothering me? He could mean anything.

Instead of explaining himself, Joe let his eyes rake over your body, paying close attention to the way your fingers held onto your glass. To your overstretched knees. Your tapping foot. Eventually his eyes landed back on your face and he carefully scanned your features. He was quick and efficient about it. No one in your little group really noticed the silent communication followed by a full body scan.

“I’m sorry girls,” Joe suddenly said, interrupting three chats that were happening at once. “I’m stealing this one away.”

You got grabbed by the hand and after a few very quick but polite goodbyes, you were lead outside. Taken away from the party by a strong arm that curled behind your back and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Not that you would ever tell him no.

Not anymore, anyway.

You’d learnt that the hard way, unfortunately.

You knew exactly why Joe was making you leave, and you accepted the flimsy excuse Joe gave others without any questions, easily following him out. The party was over for you. Done. The safety of home, of peace and quiet, was what the rest of the night was going to have in store for you, courtesy of Joe.

“How are we doing?” he asked casually, even though you knew he wasn’t treating the situation as such.

Quite the contrary, actually.

“Fine,” you smiled, completely aware that the reason you felt fine was because you’d just left. “That was fun.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

You took a deep breath, the air pleasantly cool in your lungs, and then softly added, “Busy though… long evening.”

Joe squeezed your hand at that, one side of his mouth curling up into a small smile.

“Yea. It was busy.”

It hadn’t been that busy. Nothing overwhelming, not really. Just a small flat with a number of people in that made you feel a little uneasy. What made your anxiety silently grow was hidden in small things. Like, how there weren’t enough seats for everyone, which wasn’t an issue, some of you had eaten their dinner sat on the sofa, but it was something you had taken notice of anyway. Or how a sip or two of a drink made everyone else feel a lot more relaxed, but also a lot louder and a little more careless.

You hoped that one day, maybe, you wouldn’t feel the need to take on the responsibility that was sliding down everyone else’s shoulders. That you wouldn’t constantly be eyeing up everyone in the room just to take inventory of where potential accidents were waiting for you.

Joe had seen you push past your own boundaries one too many times and over time had figured out exactly where they lied. Ever since then, he somehow had gained the ability to predict the future and would remove you from a stressful situation before it was too late.

This was a struggle at first.

There’d been a time where all you’d do was push back.

Joe could see how you looked calm, but he’d be able to hear the subtle fraying in your voice. It wasn’t unlike watching someone smile whilst they bled from the edges.

You, on the other hand, felt a little like someone was trying to wrestle the steering wheel from you whilst you were still confidently driving. Like being told to calm down when you didn’t even feel worked up— it made you question whether you should be panicking or not, and thus triggering anger within your system.

You had learnt the hard way to trust Joe and to follow his lead.

You wish you hadn’t.

Especially not at one of your favourite restaurants.

“Yea, no. We’re leaving.” Joe had said before you’d even had a good look at the menu you’d just been given.

“What?”

“Come on. Let’s go.”

Joe made the executive decision after you hadn’t even heard what he’d said about the waiter when he walked off. This was going to go sideways, and it was going to go sideways fast.

Your small, confused “What?” surprised him slightly, but not enough to change his mind.

You weren’t going to have dinner at this place.

“We’ll get something on the way home.”

He had good reason to want to leave, he thought. There was the clatter of cutlery, the swell of voices all raised because once one table started, every other table had to join in if people wanted to be able to hear each other. You got placed close to the open-concept kitchen, which looked great, but meant the temperature was way higher than he felt comfortable with. There was a large group of people sat behind you, loud laughter coming from them, sharp, endless. He had seen how tight your grip was on the glass of water the waiter had just poured for you. And he’d only mentioned how he’d said no to water but had gotten some any way, but you already seemed mentally too far removed to have even heard him.

Joe knew that in no time your pulse was going to be a loud drumbeat in your ears. Knew how your chest would tighten up and how, seemingly without warning, you’d suddenly find it impossible to breathe.

“What are you talking about?” you scoffed a small laugh. “We’re not leaving.”

Joe scanned your features, his expression worried yet unsure.

“We’re not?”

“Well... I’m not. I booked this table weeks ago.”

This was your favourite restaurant. Joe’s suggestion was laughable at best.

You got eyed suspiciously, and couldn’t help how that made your skin crawl. Joe’s tone, his worry, it carried the weight of a warning you hadn’t earned. You stubbornly let your eyes glide over the menu in front of you and tried your best to read it.

“Okay.”

And you really tried to read the words and to process them in your mind.

You had to try really, really hard.

It wasn’t like your denial made Joe doubt what he saw. Instead, it made him doubt whether he was allowed to care out loud like this.

So, he dropped it.

Wasn’t going to force to you leave.

Didn’t comment on how he’d noticed you couldn’t seem to relax your shoulders.

Repeated his comment about the water he had been given even though he had clearly said he didn’t want any, and saw how, once again, you didn’t really hear him.

When eventually someone came to take your order, you had to ask the waiter three times to repeat himself, stuttered your way through your order and, once the waiter was out of earshot, you seemed to already regret the choice you’d made.

And it’s hard to watch a glass tip toward the edge of the table, you know? Joe could see that it was about to fall right off, but if he reached out too quickly to try and catch it, he might knock the whole thing over himself.

You said you’d wanted to have dinner here, seemed determined enough for the both of you, and so he’d dropped it.

Until suddenly you announced, “I just, I need the bathroom— I’ll be right back.”

Your chair scraped loudly.

You stood up too fast.

Your bag got caught on the table leg.

You clumsily left it.

Just hurried off.

Joe watched you weave through the maze of tables, watched you disappear around the corner, and sat back in his chair with a sigh.

He waited ten seconds.

Twenty.

Rubbed his face.

Thought maybe he should wait for ten more, just to give you some space, but found that he simply couldn’t, and then he stood and followed.

Joe found you just outside of the toilets in a narrow hallway, lit with harsh, cold light. You had pressed yourself against the wall, breathing like you’d just ran half a marathon, eyes wide and entirely unfocused.

“Hey— are you okay?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Shallow, sharp, and painful. You shook your head, a small and panicked little jerk of your chin that was hidden by your hands that hovered near your face, not quite covering it, but trying to obstruct your vision enough so you could escape this awful reality for a moment.

“Hey… hey. It’s all right. You’re all right. Can you look at me? Look at me a sec.”

You tried your best not hide how his tone made you flinch. Tried to answer him, lips parting, but somehow it felt impossible to get any words out – just air, like you’d forgotten how to use your voice entirely.

“Deep breaths, remember? Deep breaths. You’re good.”

Joe’s hands softly pressed down on the tops of your shoulders for a few seconds. Then the moved down where they grabbed hold of your biceps, squeezing for the same amount of time. Your elbows followed. Then your wrists.

“W-will you hold my hand, p-please?” you shuddered, voice paper-thin.

 “Yea, of course. Yea.” Joe quickly shot into action, strangely proud of how you asked for something you needed in the moment. Something to ground you. “We’re here, remember?” Joe fought for eye-contact, ducking, bending, following your gaze until he caught it, and then asked again, “Remember?”

“Y-yea,” you nodded, choking on your breath as you forced your shoulders to relax.

With one of your hands wrapped in both of his held closely to his chest, Joe shushed you as you closed your eyes and tried to focus on Joe and Joe alone.

Not on any of the noises.

On any of the other people that walked past.

On any of the smells.

Or on the constricted feeling inside of your chest.

Just Joe and the way he raised your hand up to his mouth to press against his lips.

“You’re okay, shh. Shh.”

It took a little while, but Joe’s words helped and slowly but surely he balanced your nervous system with his own.

“Coming out of it?” Joe asked when he felt like you’d calmed down enough.

You nodded, a quick brief little thing.

“Yea, you’re easing out of it.” Joe confirmed, and somehow, just him saying it, made it more true. Made you aware of how you were no longer feeling quite so scared.

“You got it. You’re okay.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I just need— just— I don’t—...”

Joe swallowed, scared he was witnessing you sinking back into a place you seemingly had just crawled out of. He wanted to scoop you up, wanted to say something, to fix something... but he knew better.

You just needed to breathe.

Just breathe until your lips stopped trembling.

Breathe until your fingers stopped twitching.

Breathe until your brain stopped throwing static at you.

“Shh, shh, shh. Just breathe. S’all you got to do. Deep breaths.”

You’d kicked yourself for it after.

For all of it.

For ignoring Joe’s worries, for not telling Joe he was actually right, for just getting up and leaving, and for not listening in general.

You told Joe you should have listened.

Told Joe that you thought you were fine, and Joe had kissed you as he reassured that you were! You were fine, had been fine, just... right up until you weren’t, just for a second, you know?

He’d said then that he didn’t want to tell you ‘he told you so’. Hadn’t wanted to push you when you so clearly didn’t accept the mirror Joe had tried to hold up to you.

You explained that you just hadn’t recognised the reflection yet.

Joe didn’t blame you.

It wasn’t your fault.

But he hadn’t enjoyed watching you silently unravel whilst denying that you were. He’d seen it coming. Knew it was about to all go pear-shaped, and wished that you’d just trust him when he’d tell you.

So you’d learnt to listen.

If Joe said it was time to leave, you knew it simply was just that: time to leave.

You just wondered how.

“How do you always know?” you’d question him again and again.

And Joe would smile and think of the hundreds of little tells you had, obvious to anyone who paid a little closer attention to you. It was easy if they just... looked.

If they watched you for a moment.

If they really saw you.

There were so many things he could tell you about your face, your shoulders, your fingers, your voice... but all Joe would do when you asked him how he knew, was smile a little smile, press a small kiss to your temple, and give a slight shrug.

“I don’t know... I just... do.”

---

The Taglisted

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Add yourself

[swiftsdelucaa]

hey, i was wondering if you could do mark slaon x reader where’s she’s the complete opposite of him (quiet and self-conscious) and he is captured by her but she isn’t interested in him due to his reputation (I hope that makes sense haha), thanks!

❛ 𝑶𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Mark Sloan x reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: hii I hope this is good for you :) thx for requesting here <3

It hasn't been really long since when you started working at the Seattle Grace. You were the new pediatric surgeon and luckily all the people seemed to be nice. With some of them you got along very well, you had managed to establish also a good working relationship with everyone and surprisingly even attracting some unexpected people.

Mark Sloan, probably the most popular person in this hospital. You didn't really know him that well but, yet all the rumors where he was the main characters were enough. Not judging was actually difficult in that case even though you weren't that kind of person.

For some reason there was something in you that couldn't make him stop to keep his eyes on you. At first you tried to ignore it, but as it went on it was starting to annoy you.

You did not hesitate to address him qute directly, but the way he acted as you spoke not able to hide your annoyed tone bothered you even more. That stupid smirk and look were getting on your nerves so bad.

Obviously he was just trying to play it cool and look friendly. You had your ideas and thoughts, you were perfectly fine on your own and you definitely didn't need people like him. Everything that came out of his mouth could sound like a sort of flirting, everytime without any success.

But that was during work when you finally saw the person he actually was in the inside. You couldn't deny the way he took care of patients and the way sometimes he cared. Maybe his reputation was the worst but his personality might have saved him. Well this wasn't really changing your mind, it would have been just more like a normal or decent co-workers relationship and something different than the usual sighing or eyes rolling anytime he interacted with you.

At least now the situation became less unbearable, he was almost being... ok. Almost ok. And he was clearly enjoying your change of behaviour with him.

You had just scrubbed out of a surgery and this long day seemed finally to be over. You took off your scrub cap and leaned against the wall, resting your head against it and closing your eyes for a few seconds.

“Ever heard of beds?” you didn't even need to look to know who that was. Mark stood next to you.

“Oh please I don't have enough energy for that” you sighed and opened your eyes to look at him. He chuckled.

“How was your surgery?”

“It was good thankfully. Now I'm just exhausted” you replied.

“I can tell” he looked at you and smiled softly. “And I exactly know what would be perfect-”

“Absolutely not” you immediately cut him out.

“I haven't even said anything yet”

“That's enough, no thanks” you stated.

“Oh come on, I was just thinking how about we escape from here so that we both may relax out minds at Joe's. I had a long day as well, so we could just forget everything with some drinks” he rised his eyebrows, waiting for your reply. You looked at him without saying anything, but considerating it. Saying no didn't seem good. That idea was not so bad, was it?

“I will pay” he added. “So, deal?”

You smiled slightly. “Fine” you then said. “But just one drink. And then I'm going home”

“Sounds good. Even better for my wallet” you chuckled softly before making your way to the locker rooms and leave.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Roses

~ requested: song lyric prank on your man, ^ that's how he gon' look afterward lol ~

bf!joe burrow x black!reader

TW: MDNI 18+ | spoiler alert: this is not about flowers. flowers mentioned a couple of times tho, language, smut, mentions of: self-pleasure (fem), public sex, vibrators, and some other stuff, its rated R just enjoy it ♡

“Thank You TikTok” | Main Masterlist

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

ღ 🌺 ღೋ Next Fic <3

~ have I been planning to use this song in some form way, shape or form since sis dropped it?? oh yea. did I make this SECONDS after getting the request? HELL YEA.

thank you anon, i hope you liked it. I had a great time making it.🤍

[hivemuthur]

hihihihi i literally love ur writing smmmm like i actually need it sb. any time you post ik it’s gonna be peak literature 🙂‍↕️

anyhowwww, i wanted to request an arcane fic with a university au viktor x reader where viktor and reader are like academic rivals or wtv and they’re always bickering but viktor rlly wants to be her friend and doesn’t want to be rivals. sooo he tries like anything he can and as reader eventually warms up to him another guy comes along (maybe jayce or smth idk? or it can just be a random) and becomes their friend like almost instantly and viktor is JEALOUSSSS and envious and just ufhfhhffhhfghhf i need that sb.

it can be nsfw or sfw i literally do not care i just need that plot paired with your writing and ik it’s gonna be an absolute masterpiece.

Hey, love! You know what I'm gonna say, right? Sorry for the long wait. This will have 3 chapters, like for real, not like the other one that now is looking more like 5. I'm gonna say a few things got changed here, because I forgot the essence of the request while writing, but the general message is: Viktor is bad at flirting.

Tightrope - Ch. 1.

viktorxfemale!reader mature (overall explicit), frenemies/academic rivals to lovers, modern university AU

Ch.2. | Ch.3.

word count: 5,9K

tag: #tightrope

summary: You and Viktor are tethering the line between friendship and rivalry, Jayce being one amongst the few common factors you both acknowledge (of course more is there but for the smart people you are, you tend to be very stupid about things). Oh, and you have to do a project together.

author's note: I have a very poor name vocabulary sorry. Here's another Joe, this time he's a dude :v thank you @rennethen for beta reading and bearing through my shit with such grace. One trick pony here we go!

also the artist behind art is here!

Cross-posted on AO3

—

You squint as your eyes scan the list of projects for Heimerdinger’s class. And since the professor is just and fair, like a nice old man who has seen it all, you already know what to expect. But you check anyway.

He wouldn’t pair you—the almost top-of-the-class student, fighting desperately with your feet and elbows to stay there—with someone undeserving. This little annoying thing in the back of your head called hope still glows faintly, last embers about to die as you’ve read through almost all names known to you except for yours.

And as a bucket of cold water gets thrown over the ashen pieces of coal, you find it. And oh—

Of course. Next to it, your least favourite name. Of course, just… great. This is great. This is fine.

The last time you worked together, it ended with a lot of papercuts, pencils flying, and Jayce using notebooks and blackboards as shields—not to mention a tiny explosion because neither of you could agree on proportions.

So, like the responsible classmate you are, you make one final, desperate attempt to convince the nice little man to change your partner. For the sake of public safety and the well-being of everyone who steps foot on Academy grounds.

You are also nice and well-behaved, so even though the door to the classroom is open, you knock on the doorframe before disturbing the professor.

“Ah! I would lie if I said I wasn’t expecting you to show up. Please, come in!” he exclaims, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes in sheer existential pain. If he already knows what you want, you already know how this is going to go.

Still, you press forward, stepping inside and clasping your hands behind your back in what you hope is a diplomatic stance. “Professor, I was wondering if—by any chance, purely hypothetically—there’s a possibility to switch partners for the project?”

Heimerdinger folds his arms behind his back, looking up at you with the kind of patient amusement that makes you feel like a child asking for extra dessert before finishing dinner. “Ah, yes. I was almost certain you’d ask that,” he says, nodding sagely. “And before you say anything else, I do hope you won’t drop out of my class if I say no.”

You open your mouth, ready to assure him that you would never be so dramatic—except that’s exactly what you were about to say, just in different words.

Before you can recover, Heimerdinger raises a hand and continues. “This project is worth thirty percent of your final mark,” he states, his voice gentle but firm. “I am, of course, aware of the... tension between you and Viktor.” His moustache twitches slightly, betraying a hint of amusement. “However, I must ensure fairness in all assignments. There will be no one riding on someone else’s back in my class.”

You exhale sharply through your nose. “Professor, with all due respect, we nearly set a classroom on fire last time—”

“The most beautiful diamonds,” he interjects, tilting his head with a knowing smile, “are shaped under pressure.”

You stare at him, jaw tight. He stares back, completely at ease.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“I—” you gulp on air, searching for words. Finally, a breath of surrender escapes you and you deflate completely, saying only, “Thank you for your time.”

Seeing your sagged chest and fingers grasping the edge of your notebook tightly, Heimerdinger offers you a consolation. “I know I seem ancient to you, child. But trust me when I say, I do remember what it’s like to be young, and a little bit of friendly rivalry can be transformed into something truly groundbreaking. Think Newton and Hooke! Tesla and Edison! Bohr and Einstein! All of them were in quandaries that led to further discoveries!”

While Heimerdinger lists off pairs of rival geniuses, completely different names surface in your mind, unspoken but undeniable. Verlaine and Rimbaud. Love and Cobain. Sid and Nancy. Bonnie and Clyde. You are convinced those are the dynamics that loom over you and Viktor—just without all the feelings, of course.

And if only you were just competitors, like Bohr and Einstein, things would be so much simpler.

From the very first meeting, Viktor had been cold and reserved, his sharp tongue laced with enough venom to wither anyone foolish enough to challenge him. But if there was one thing you had to do to stay afloat in this sea of STEM sausages, it was dare. And challenge.

You still remember that moment vividly. How you almost stumbled when Jayce introduced you—because gods, he was gorgeous. An angular face that looked carved from marble, warm amber eyes framed by a fall of auburn hair. A boy so unfairly pretty that, had you met him a few years earlier, you would have fallen hard.

Your eyes swept him from head to toe before you slipped your hand into his, and for a single, traitorous moment, something fluttered in your chest. A rush of warmth, unexpected and unfamiliar.

Then you blurted out your name with an embarrassing stutter—

And the magic shattered the second Viktor opened his sweet mouth.

"Charmed," he drawled, but the dryness in his voice suggested the opposite. His gaze flicked over you in a quick, assessing glance before he tilted his head towards Jayce. "Is she another one of your projects, or does she actually know what she’s doing?"

The warmth in your chest evaporated instantly, replaced by a sharp spike of irritation.

Oh. Oh. So that’s how this was going to go.

With a weak smile, you thank Professor Heimerdinger, and your mind is so out of it that you almost curtsy—which you hastily disguise as an awkward bow. Nearly stumbling over your own feet, you literally fall out of the classroom, colliding with something big and solid.

“Careful there! Hi, oh—” A surprised voice reaches your ears, followed by a strong arm steadying you. “Hi there. Hi, um. You alright?”

Either he’s a halfwit or completely smitten with you, because his articulation leaves much to be desired. Not that you're one to judge, given your current coordination.

“Hi, sorry. Just a small… miscalculation.” You smile sheepishly and extend your hand out of habit, instinctively introducing yourself to your unexpected saviour. After all, that’s how you met Jayce.

“I’m Joe,” he says in one breath, your much smaller hand completely disappearing in his massive palm. “It’s nice to meet you.” He chuckles, a blush blooming across his cheeks—so unabashed, his eyes glinting—and oh.

Nice, you catch yourself thinking in the most obscene, ludicrous way as you zero in on his chest, the tight team T-shirt clinging to it.

“Eh, it’s nice to meet you too.” You grin, nodding, and blink stupidly, batting your eyelashes, not entirely sure what’s happening.

Before you get a chance to unglue the dumbfounded smile from your face and actually say something more, Jayce’s voice rings through the corridor, your name echoing off the walls.

“There you are! Oops! Making new friends? Don’t mind her, this is her love language.”

Jayce—the oblivious Jayce, a man so naïve it would never cross his mind what he is doing to someone you literally just met thirty seconds ago. Mortification is too weak a word to describe what you feel inside.

“Jayce!” You smack his chest and shake your head in disbelief. “Don’t mind him, he’s an ass.”

And as if poor Joe doesn’t have enough on his plate already, another voice bombards him, and you’re certain he’s beginning to regret ever catching you.

“Hello. Are you a new face in Heimerdinger’s class?” Viktor asks, wearing that redundant smirk, his voice stretching into a deliberate, chewy, gross thing that makes you scowl. Just outright cruel.

“Heh, no, I just happened to catch your friend,” Joe answers without missing a beat. “And… I was hoping I could get her number.”

And that just. Does it.

You nod faster than you think, already reaching for his phone, clumping your number in there with sticky, shaky fingers and a stupid blush creeping up your neck. You avoid Jayce’s and Viktor’s eyes, but oh boy, you can feel both pairs drilling into you almost viscerally. Viktor’s especially—those fucking yellow embers burning right through you from under furrowed brows.

You flash Joe one last smile and a very awkward, very hurried, “Call me,” not knowing what has gotten into you. Then you let Jayce sweep you away toward your usual route to the cafeteria, while Viktor strolls behind, full of graceful disdain.

“So, I saw the tables, and…” Jayce clears his throat, chattering into your ear. “I’ve seen the pairs! We can share a lab, I’m paired with Sky!”

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh and pat his shoulder—a touch saying more than a thousand words. Words that say how much you can’t wait for another round of throwing objects at Viktor, while Jayce scrambles to catch anything that might hurt Sky.

“Oh, are you not happy about the distribution of projects?” Viktor asks, a small smile playing at his lips.

“The project is fine. The distribution… I’m sure you understand.” You throw him an acidic smirk, your eyes empty of any emotion save for one slow blink. Neural Interface for Prosthetics is actually an incredibly good project—Heimerdinger got you there, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Well, maybe you could be just a little more grateful had he paired you with Jayce or Sky.

“Eh, you will forgive me, but I do not.” Viktor pauses and looks at you—challenging you. And you really hate it, because it works. “I do not wish to have the project jeopardized by something silly, as the topic itself aligns with my interests.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual, Viktor. Can we please eat? I am about to eat one of you if we don’t go to the cafeteria right now,” you sigh, exasperated, and your stomach growls to support your claim.

“You can eat me!” Jayce lands face down between your bickering, and you just laugh, completely disarmed.

Once you finally sit down, Viktor simply opens a book next to his tray, ignoring both you and Jayce completely—obviously sulking about something. Jayce, on the other hand, takes massive bites of his sandwich, staring at you intensely, as if willing you to spill the tea. When that doesn’t work, he speaks.

“So… who’s the new guy?” he elbows you playfully and you can barely understand him with his mouth full. But his eyes say it all—he is dying to know.

"Jayce, you’re so transparent I almost can’t see you. Where are you, Jayce? Where did you go?" You wave your hands around dramatically. He almost chokes. Viktor scoffs, unimpressed, barely glancing up from his book as he stirs sweetmilk into his coffee.

Once the immediate hazard of death by choking is under control, Jayce flashes one of those earnest grins—one that practically screams what a good person he is, full of pure intentions. "Oh, shut up. He seems nice, and I’m curious."

"He’s just a guy, nothing more," you hum, taking a sip of your coffee. And even though you have no idea if that little encounter will go anywhere, you can’t resist adding a pin. "Yet."

Viktor looks like he is holding back a scoff, so he just turns the page in his book with a violent sweep.

"Well… do you like him?" Jayce presses, oblivious to the tension at the table. He’s just such a gossip girl.

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Are you alright? Why are you so interested?"

Jayce shrugs. "I don’t know, I always thought you’d end up with someone of equal… interests?" Intelligence is what he really means. But that would be cruel. Just because a guy plays rugby doesn’t mean he’s brain damaged. Surely.

"Oh please, I hate STEM bros." You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms with an air of finality, as if that settles the matter. You do hate STEM bros. They are full of themselves, have no respect for women and look down on you.

Jayce raises an eyebrow, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. "Erm… you are a STEM bro."

Viktor finally looks up from his book, watching you with the barest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest as if mortally offended. "Jayce Talis! I am a lady! Not a bro!"

That is Viktor’s cue. “I don’t think that lack of testicles classifies you as a lady instantly,” he says in a deadpan voice.

And you don’t know what pushes your stupid mind to say it. Is it just muscle memory—your tongue snapping back whenever you talk to Viktor—or an actual intention to say something mean to him? You really don’t know. In one breath, you say, voice equally dead to his, “Of course not. If that were the case, you’d classify as a lady as well,” and watch the chaos unravel.

None of that happens, though. The underwhelming events carry on in painfully slow motion—Jayce’s eyes widening so much there’s a real threat they might never close again, while Viktor gulps his coffee with an agonisingly slow bob of his Adam’s apple. It’s only when he’s done that you realise he was fighting not to choke on it—because the next moment, he bursts into laughter, covering his face with his hand.

Jayce exhales the breath he was holding and laughs as well—you’re not sure if it’s at your joke or simply at the sight of Viktor laughing so openly, an event so rare it shouldn’t go uncherished. Despite yourself, you grin. Indeed, Viktor’s face—his eyes squeezed shut to the point of a tear slipping from beneath his long lashes, smile lines filling out his hollowed cheeks, his teeth bared in an uninhibited cackle—is a sight to behold.

The stupid thing in your chest stutters, as Viktor wheezes and lowers his hand to rest on yours. “Remind me to never cross you again. Merciless is an understatement,” he says, barely, with a really warm smile and you find yourself blushing again, for the second time in a mere hour. Because of two different boys.

And as any moment made of pure magic in the history of magical moments, this one doesn’t last either. It gets violently interrupted by a buzz of your phone on the table.

If you wanna take a stroll, I have a free period now :) We can meet by the fountain. Joe, in case you wonder who this is :)

And your blush deepens. You calculate options in your mind and soon decide on the what the hell one. “I’m gonna scram boys. See you in the lab after class?”

“Yes. Please bring the less… distracted version of yourself if you can,” Viktor states and all the warmth evaporates from him at once. Back to the usual version of himself—sharp wit, balancing on the verge of cutting.

As you mumble an absent, “I’ll do my best,” and wave them goodbye, Jayce returns to his sandwich and sighs knowingly.

“You know… wouldn’t kill you to be a little bit nicer,” Jayce says, leaning forward on his elbows. His voice is casual, but there’s an edge of curiosity beneath it, like he’s prodding at something fragile just to see if it will break.

“This is me being nice,” Viktor replies in a neutral tone, lifting his coffee to his lips. The steam curls around his face as he takes a slow sip, his expression unmoving. He is being nice. He is trying to be nice. It’s just sometimes completely impossible to be nice to you when you get like this. Distracted. He scoffs to himself. It’s a strange friendship you have there, but it’s a friendship nevertheless—or so he likes to think.

Jayce studies him, his gaze sharp despite the lazy way he’s chewing the inside of his cheek. “No, that is just you being… well, you,” he says bluntly, tilting his head as if he’s considering whether to push further. “Being a dick is not a way to a lady’s heart.”

Viktor arches a brow, unimpressed. “Excuse me, but have we experienced the same scene? I was the one being offended and laughed it off like a gentleman, thank you.” He gestures vaguely with his cup, his fingers tightening just slightly around the ceramic.

Jayce narrows his eyes. “Then why are you so annoyed in the first place?”

“I am not annoyed,” Viktor states flatly, setting his coffee down with a little more force than necessary. He smooths his hands over his sweater as he rises from his seat, already turning away before Jayce can open his mouth again. “I am great. I am so great, in fact, that I will go and start working on that project. See you, Jayce.”

And then he just strides off, his cane tapping against the floor, leaving Jayce mid-sentence with his mouth open, eyes blinking slowly.

Of course, he is not annoyed. Maybe only slightly—and only because you’ve somehow managed to gain another distraction in your life right before you were about to start working on the biggest project of the year. And it’s just, well, fucking annoying.

***

When you glance at your watch, you yelp and press a hand to your forehead. “Fucking hell,” you mutter under your breath before breaking into a sprint toward the lab.

Viktor is going to kill you—especially since there’s no way to prove you were caught up in something important.

Because, well, you weren’t. It was Joe who took up all your time this afternoon. And he is… surprisingly nice. And smart.

You hadn’t expected that.

What started as a casual conversation somehow stretched into something far longer, the minutes slipping away unnoticed. He had opinions on films—actual opinions, not just generic statements about “liking action movies.” He had read some of the same books as you and even suggested a few you begrudgingly admitted sounded interesting. Sports came up, of course, but he spoke about them with a self-awareness that made it bearable. And when the conversation dipped into politics, he didn’t say anything that made you want to throw your coffee in his face. That alone was impressive.

It was… weirdly comfortable. Easy, even. Even when he lingered.

Joe’s gaze held onto you a second longer than necessary, like he was memorising the way you looked when you laughed. And when he hugged you goodbye, his arms stayed around you for just a breath too many. The slow way he untangled himself from you made it clear that if you hadn’t pulled away first, he wouldn’t have been the one to let go.

Shaking off the last remnants of Joe from your thoughts, you push through the heavy lab doors with a hurried stumble, your breath still uneven from the rush.

“Sorry, I’m late, guys—” The words die in your throat as you take in the empty room.

Only Viktor.

He stands at the workbench, sleeves pushed up, hands meticulously adjusting the placement of various tools and notes. At the sound of your voice, he pauses but doesn’t turn around immediately. The rhythmic ticking of the clock fills the silence, marking the seconds you take to process the situation.

No Jayce. No Sky. Just Viktor, and the sharp scent of metal and oil clinging to the air.

“Glad you could make it,” he remarks, finally turning his head just enough to glance at you. His voice is even, but something about it feels... off. You can’t tell if he’s irritated or merely stating a fact. Maybe both.

“Sorry,” you sigh, setting your things down with a thud. “I lost track of time.”

“With your new himbo.” It isn’t a question.

You hesitate for a fraction of a second. “Yes. And his name is Joe, Viktor, not a new himbo.”

Viktor hums—a short, unimpressed sound—and resumes his work, carefully aligning a set of blueprints. Somehow, his silence feels louder than an argument.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, more to yourself than to him, or rather into the empty space between you and Viktor, which seems to be expanding with each passing second.

“And where are Jayce and Sky?”

“They managed to sketch out the roadmap for themselves in the time you spent with Joe and decided they needed the library for further planning,” Viktor replies flatly, still not looking at you. The way he deliberately keeps his gaze averted only emphasises how much has been accomplished in your presumably very long moment of indulgence. How nice.

“Alright, would you like me to crucify myself, or do you want the honours?” Impatience gets the better of you, and you fold your arms tightly across your chest.

At that, Viktor’s hands still over the workbench. His head tilts ever so slightly in your direction, though his gaze remains fixed on the floor, as if acknowledging you fully would be a waste of effort.

“I am merely stating a fact,” he says, his voice low, clipped. “This is more important than some affairs, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, really, Viktor?” You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “And here I thought thirty percent of my grade was worth sacrificing for some sloppy making out—but thank you so much for finally making me see the error of my ways.”

That makes him look.

And he is angry.

His head snaps up, eyes narrowing, gears visibly grinding in his mind as he weighs whether you’re just riling him up or—God forbid—whether you actually have made out with Joe.

His jaw tightens. “Just get to work already, will you?”

You say nothing, only flash him an acrid smile before reaching for your goggles on the workbench.

The two of you work in almost deafening silence, broken only by the occasional exchange of necessary questions and answers. You retrieve materials while Viktor arranges the workspace, and you scribble down the general plan on the blackboard, the tension in the air palpable.

Each time the chalk screeches against the surface, Viktor visibly winces, hissing under his breath and sinking his head between his shoulders in an exaggerated display of agony.

You roll your eyes but say nothing.

“Could you maybe try a little harder to make it less cacographic?” he mutters, irritation creeping into his voice.

The suddenness of it startles you just as you’re making another stroke, and the chalk lets out a bone-chilling whine against the board.

Viktor flinches violently, covering his ears. “For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, voice muffled behind his palms. “Let me do it.” He steps forward, reaching for the chalk without hesitation.

You anticipate the move, tucking your arm behind your back in defiance. A childish gesture, maybe, but if he’s going to be an ass about it, you’re not about to make it easy for him.

He doesn’t stop. He closes the distance between you in a few sharp steps, his expression taut with frustration. Before you can react, his fingers wrap around your wrist—tight, unrelenting. He pries your hand forward and gives a firm shake, forcing your fingers to unclench until the chalk drops neatly into his waiting palm.

A sharp twinge shoots up your arm. It’s not painful exactly, but it’s close enough to make you wince.

Snatching your hand back, you massage your wrist, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

For a brief second, something flickers across Viktor’s face—regret, maybe. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, buried beneath the same rigid composure he always wears like armour. He doesn’t apologise. Doesn’t even acknowledge it. Instead, he turns to the board and begins writing, his tone stripped of anything resembling warmth.

“I want to wrap this up before tomorrow,” he says flatly, chalk gliding across the surface with sharp, efficient strokes. “And you are being thoroughly incompetent. I told you to bring yourself not distracted.”

You let out a sharp scoff. “Okay, I am so sorry I was late. I’ll stay longer and finish up whatever we don’t get done in time. But you are outdoing yourself in being a complete twat today.”

You don’t wait for a response. Instead, you march over to the workbench, hands immediately finding the prototype components. If you focus on the task, maybe you won’t be tempted to launch something at Viktor’s insufferable head.

“Oh please, I do not trust anything you do without supervision,” Viktor says, scribbling quietly on the board, somehow making a point out of it.

“Viktor, are you serious right now? We literally have the same grades,” you huff, leaning over the table to pick up the components you need. You do your best to tune him out—his bickering is only distracting, and you need to rewire the prototype from the previous project.

Overall, the task is simple enough. The device is built around an EEG-based neural interface—a system that reads electrical activity in the brain and translates it into signals that can control a mechanical limb. In practical terms, the user wears a headband fitted with electrodes that detect neural impulses associated with movement. These signals then travel through a processing unit, which refines the input before transmitting it to the prosthetic itself.

That’s the easy part. The rest, well.

The prototype you’re working on today is a refinement of an earlier model. The previous iteration had suffered from signal lag and inconsistent responsiveness—issues you’re hoping to correct by integrating a new set of circuits and refining the algorithm for noise reduction.

You grab the headband from the pile of equipment, turning it over in your hands. It should work just fine if you tweak the wiring to accommodate the new design. Without thinking too much about it, you start securing the circuits, fingers working on autopilot as you weave the delicate wires through the correct channels.

Or at least, you think they’re correct—until Viktor’s voice cuts through your focus again.

“Are you even listening to me? What are you doing?” His tone is sharp, irritated—like he’s already asked this more than once.

Your expression tightens as he strides over to the bench, clearly unimpressed. “I just rewired it. Nothing too complex,” you mutter, adjusting a loose wire before reaching for the power switch.

Viktor doesn’t look convinced. He picks up the headband, turning it over in his hands with a scrutinising gaze. “Nothing too complex,” he repeats dryly. “Yes, because neural interfaces are famously simple. I’d rather be sure. Show me.”

You roll your eyes but oblige, reaching over and flipping the switch.

The reaction is instant.

A sharp jolt cracks through the air, followed by a strangled, almost undignified yelp as Viktor jerks back, dropping the headband as if it has burned him. His entire body stiffens, fingers twitching violently for a brief second before he stumbles, gripping the workbench for support, blinking rapidly.

Your mouth falls open. “Oh—shit—Viktor—”

He exhales sharply, pressing a hand to his chest, his face twisted in a grimace. “Wonderful,” he grits out. “So that’s what you rewired.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you mumble, rushing to him, ignoring the sharpness of his tone. Your hands instinctively cup his face as you lean in. He blinks, startled, his mouth parting at the sudden concern—your brows furrowed, eyes searching his face for any sign of lingering pain, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he says flatly. “You’ve electrocuted me.” His hands move to seize your wrists, but you twist away before he can. Your palms return to his face, fingers framing him gently, and Viktor’s breath hitches.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whisper, voice genuine. You are truly sorry, the worry overriding all the anger you had for him mere seconds ago. And Viktor has no idea how to react to this. He stands there, breath unsteady, before muttering, “I’m fine.”

You blink, straightening, and Viktor is almost ready to exhale in relief—until your hands shift again, this time pressing against his chest and back, cradling his heart between your palms. You stand beside him, hands firm but careful, instinct guiding you more than knowledge. You don’t even know if this is what you’re supposed to do for someone who’s been electrocuted, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind.

His heart thunders beneath your touch. The silence is so heavy you can hear yourself gulp on the lump in your throat. You don’t hate him that much, and you hope he knows it.

Finally, Viktor speaks, his breath still rattling. “Well, would you look at that. So there is kindness in your touch after all.” He tries to sound wicked, but there is no venom in his voice.

“Viktor, you bastard. When have I not been kind to you?” you respond playfully, your hands still pressed against him.

“Ah, well. When you implied my alleged castration is the first that comes to mind. But rest assured, my testicles are good and well. I’d show you, but I’m afraid someone has already filled this position in your life,” he trails off, slipping back into his seemingly unbothered attitude.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan, rolling your eyes. Still, your fingers linger, as if trying to determine whether his heartbeat is elevated from the shock or something else entirely. Or is it always like this? You don’t dare to ask.

Viktor tilts his head, watching you. “What about?”

“Any of it. You make me fucking gag,” you scoff, finally sliding your hands off him.

“Not yet—but I could.”

You barely have time to register the shift before he catches your hand, his thumb pressing against your palm. A slight twitch makes your fingers curl around his.

“You could what?”

“Make you gag.” The words slip out just as a smirk blooms on his face, faster than he can think to stop either. He can’t tell if he regrets them immediately.

The figurative pin drops. A high-pitched whine rings in your ears. Viktor’s gaze is drilled into you, thumb still pressing into your palm.

Your eyes widen, but you don’t miss a beat. “Well, would you look at that. So there is kindness in you after all,” you murmur.

“Ah, for you. Only kindness, nothing else,” Viktor hums, his voice a low purr as his thumb idly circles the centre of your palm. His grip is loose enough that you could pull away, yet you don’t. His eyes flicker with something unreadable—something that makes your breath catch before you force yourself to scoff.

“Yeah, right.”

His smirk deepens. “When have I not been kind to you?”

“Like… ever?” You raise a brow, tilting your head as if you’re genuinely considering it. “You mock me. You think I’m outright stupid and don’t deserve my spot in class. You constantly correct me and fight me over solutions. You hate working with me, scoff at me, and laugh me out in front of Jayce. And Sky.”

Viktor clicks his tongue, his fingers squeezing yours ever so slightly. “Such is my love language.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “Oh, forget it.” You finally try to pull your hand away, but Viktor doesn’t let go just yet, his grip tightening for half a second before he releases you—only for his cane to hook lightly around your wrist, stopping you mid-motion.

“Wait.” His voice is softer now, coaxing. When you glance at him, there’s something else in his gaze, something warmer, but it’s masked beneath that ever-present air of a prank. “I almost died, you shouldn’t leave me.”

You gape at him. “Viktor—”

“Alright, alright! I surrender.” He chuckles, but there’s something breathless in it. His fingers twitch against his cane. “Wait. Please.”

The sudden plea stills you. Your heart stumbles over itself before you swallow and straighten your posture, crossing your arms in an attempt to shake the feeling off.

Viktor exhales, dragging a hand through his hair before returning his gaze to you. “I do not mock you or laugh you out. I simply jest—I do that with Jayce all the time. You should have noticed by now.”

You purse your lips, unimpressed.

“I do not correct you,” he continues, his voice lilting, as if this is all some grand performance. “I offer you my point of view. And I do not fight you—I simply enjoy some intellectual sparring. Not many can provide one that satisfies me.”

Your fingers twitch, nerves sparking beneath your skin at the way he says satisfies, but you ignore it. Instead, you level him with a flat stare.

“You’re just gaslighting me at this point, Viktor. At least give me a head start before you snap my neck with this thing one day.” You tap the end of his cane with a pointed look.

Viktor grins—slow, wicked. His weight shifts, allowing the cane to rest a little heavier against your wrist, his fingers curling just slightly around the handle.

“Oh, come now. That would be far too merciful.”

Your stomach flips, and you hate that it does.

“Are you going to be good to me now?” Viktor asks, his voice so low you barely hear it, but the weight of it settles deep in your chest.

He takes a step closer, and your breath catches when you feel it—his exhale, warm against your skin, ghosting over your lips. His fingers brush against your wrist, the same one he had seized not long ago. A touch that lingers.

“You have almost killed me, after all.” You watch his lips twisted in a smile you’ve never seen before. And it scares you for some reason.

“Stop this,” you say, firmer than you expected, yanking your hand away. You clutch it to your chest like a wound, like something fragile he might pry apart if given the chance.

Viktor tilts his head, eyes sharp with curiosity. “Why?”

Your throat tightens. “You know goddamn well why.” You take a step back, shaking your head, something bitter curling in your gut. “I am not your project, you dick.”

Viktor’s expression shifts—his smirk falters, lips parting slightly as if caught off guard. “Hey, that is not what I meant—”

But you don’t let him finish. You pivot on your heel, retreating towards the door, your pulse hammering in your ears. You need distance. The lab suddenly feels too small, the air too thick, charged with something neither of you were prepared for.

Behind you, Viktor’s voice follows, just a step behind. “Wait—”

You don’t.

The door swings shut behind you, and Viktor is left standing in the empty lab, staring after where you had just been.

A long exhale leaves him, and he runs a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath,

“Well, damn. That backfired.”

He frowns to himself, rolling his jaw as if trying to make sense of what just happened—of what he just did.

And for the first time in a long while, Viktor realises he doesn’t have a formula for this.

[punksyeet]

- Daddy’s Home ❥

Plot: Roman reunites with his girls after a week-long work trip.

Warning: Hefty flirting, mature language, & smut (oral in the shower)!

A/N: thank you to @mrsfatu08 for this request. apologies for the delay, but i hope you enjoy regardless! 💐🫶🏼

—————————————————————————————————

“Da…da…da,” my daughter coos, before fisting a couple pieces of pasta into her mouth.

I chuckle, putting some more in her bowl. “That’s right, baby. Dada will be home soon.”

As if she can understand me, she gives me the most precious four-toothed smile.

My husband is Joe Anoa’i. Known to the public as Roman Reigns, the Head of The Table, and/or the Tribal Chief.

We’ve been together for six years — married for two — and had our baby girl, Jailynn Rose, seven months ago.

As a professional wrestler, Joe is on the road constantly.

Whether it’s doing live shows, filming pre-taped segments, or even traveling the world for PLEs, he’s home maybe 2-3 days a week if we’re lucky.

This week however, he participated in the Royal Rumble alongside being announced as two covers of the video game WWE 2K25.

So, as a result, he’s been gone for a little while.

Yes, it can be a struggle sometimes. And motherhood is difficult in itself, let alone when you’re experiencing it solo 80% of the time.

But nothing will ever replace the excitement that both myself and my daughter feel when he walks through our front door.

With a deep sigh, I unlatch the table from Jailynn’s chair and pick her up.

“Alright babygirl,” I say breathlessly, holding her in an arm and bringing the table over to the sink with the other. “Let’s get you all nice and clean.”

She coos in response, earning a giggle from me, and we begin our journey out of the kitchen and upstairs.

“Ba ti!” she calls out, jumping up and down, holding the wall of the tub for support.

I smile, letting the warm water run and create suds of gentle body wash.

“Bath time!” I say with her excitedly, clapping my hands.

She squeals and claps along with me.

Eventually, I undress her and place her in.

As she’s splashing around in the water, I hear the front door open.

“I’m hooome!” Joe calls out before closing it.

I widen my eyes and gasp at Jailynn who squeals, clapping her hands. “Dadadada!”

“Dada’s home!” I join her and say in between giggles.

Moments later, Joe pops his head into the bathroom and Jailynn goes nuts, over the moon to see her daddy.

I smile watching him pick our daughter up and attack her face with kisses.

She laughs the entire time, grabbing his face with her tiny hands.

“Give dada kiss?” he asks, puckering his lips.

She responds by leaning into him with her mouth wide open.

“Aww good job baby,” I coo, smiling.

She claps in response and we join her.

He chuckles. “Thank you, princess.”

He places her back down and she goes back to her toys, before he turns to me.

“Welcome home love,” I coo, wrapping my arms around his neck and looking up at him.

“Thank you gorgeous,” he replies, wrapping his around my waist. “I missed you so much.”

He gently holds either side of my face and leans down, bringing his lips to mine.

I kiss back and place my head on his chest once we pull away.

His scent is so comforting. A comfort that I’ve been without for what has felt like years.

He holds his chin on my head and rocks us back and forth.

—————————————————————————————————

It’s now 7:30pm - Jailynn’s bedtime.

As I lay her down in her crib, Joe places a hand on my lower back.

“I’ve got it baby,” he exclaims, rubbing small circles. “Go relax.”

I give him a soft but grateful smile. “You sure, babe? I don’t mind.”

He shakes his head and kisses my temple. “Positive. Go on, mama.”

I nod, lean down, and brush Jailynn’s curls away from her forehead, before giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Sweet dreams, my baby.”

An adorable little smile appears behind her pacifier, earning a chuckle from both me and Joe.

I stand back up and give him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the bedroom and quietly shutting the door behind me.

Once I’m in our bedroom, I decide to unwind with a nice hot shower.

I grab one of my lace sleepwear sets and head into our bathroom.

“Mind if I join you, pretty lady?” Joe asks, as I’m about to step into the tub.

I smirk and turn around to see my sexy husband, already shirtless and leaning against the doorframe.

“Not at all handsome,” I reply, taking a step closer to him and wrapping my arms around his neck. “Baby girl is asleep already?”

He nods, scanning my naked body. “Knocked right out. Must’ve known her daddy was in a hurry.”

My bottom lip slides between my teeth and I tilt my head, as he feathers soft kisses on my jaw and neck.

“Mmm,” I half-moan / half-hum in approval. “In a hurry for what exactly?”

He smirks and gently lifts my chin, his gorgeous brown eyes locked on mine. “To reclaim what’s mine.”

** smut warning! **

Before I can respond, he connects our lips, immediately sliding his tongue across mine.

The kiss gets steamy quick, as he slides his hands up and down my body.

My breath hitches as he grabs handfuls of my ass, his fingertips just barely grazing my pussy from behind.

“Already soaked for me,” he mumbles against my lips, his voice as deep and sexy as ever. “Y’missed daddy that much, hm?”

“You have no idea,” I reply, my voice just above a whisper.

He smirks and scoops me up by my thighs, never breaking the kiss.

I automatically wrap my legs around his waist, as he brings us into the shower.

The hot water cascades down my back and steam takes over, immediately calming any butterflies I had from earlier.

You’d think I’d stop having butterflies years ago, given how long I’ve been with him.

But when you’re married to Joe Anoa’i, don’t hold your breath.

“J-Joe….baby…” my voice trails off, as he feathers kisses down my body and lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder.

“Shhh,” he orders, stroking my folds ever so gently with his thumb. “Just relax and enjoy, sweetheart.”

As soon as his thick and wet tongue makes contact with my skin, I immediately feel like I’m ascending.

“Fuck,” I whisper-moan, my hand immediately traveling down to his gorgeous curls. “Joe, oh my god.”

He hums in approval, digging his fingers into my hips and flicking his tongue in and out of my clit.

“So fucking sweet baby doll,” he mutters against my pussy. “I’ve been craving your taste for so long.”

I try to form words, but the feeling of his mouth on me takes over, interrupting my thoughts and resulting in a loud and hearty moan.

“Just like that sweet thing,” he exclaims, stroking small circles onto my thighs. “Let me hear you.”

Between his dirty words and his skillful tongue, I almost immediately feel a deep pit in my stomach.

And before I can let him know, he practically reads my mind.

“Go on and cum for me mama,” he says, his voice extra raspy. “Make a mess on daddy’s face. Show me how much you missed me.”

My climax rips through my body, as I softly whimper and grind against his tongue.

** smut over! **

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself, running a hand through my hair, once I’m back to standing on two feet.

Joe chuckles and wraps me in his arms, followed by a kiss to my temple. “You good, honey? I didn’t get too ahead of myself, did I?”

I nod, panting lightly and giving his chest a kiss before laying my head on it. “It’s just been a little while, that’s all.”

Don’t get me wrong - my toys get the job done, but nothing and I mean nothing compares to the sex god that is my husband.

“Well as long as you feel good,” he replies, rubbing my back gently. “That’s all I’m worried about.”

I look up and give him a soft smile. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

He looks back down at me with a gorgeous smile in return. “The most perfect woman in the world calling me perfect? Hm, I’ll take it.”

I giggle softly and brush our noses together.

“Let’s finish up in here and get some rest, hm?” he suggests, nodding towards the door to our bedroom.

I raise an eyebrow, folding my arms across my chest. “Does ‘getting some rest’ entail getting into bed so you can get round two out of me, Mr. Anoa’i?”

He puckers his lips to the side and raises his hands, as a smirk grows on his face. “You said it, not me.”

I roll my eyes playfully, shaking my head. “You’re lucky I love you.”

He chuckles and grabs my face, pulling me in for some quick kisses.

“Now,” he begins, pulling away and grabbing my bottle of shampoo from the rack hanging on the wall. “Turn your lil fine ass around.”

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Join my tag list here! ᥫ᭡

Request a one-shot here! ❦

Check out my twitter and tiktok! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Follows, feedback, & reblogs appreciated! -`♡´-

[starkwlkr]

I have such a random request but it came to me randomly and you said you were looking for DILF driver requests so here:

Any driver with an Actress!reader who is in a new movie with on screen kissing with her and another actor and reader and whatever driver you write this with have to explain to their kids, Maybe like ages 3-6, that their mom and dad still love each other and that mom was just working.

Sorry if this is complicated

Thanks 🫶

playing pretend | mark webber

i went with mark so i hope that’s ok!! also i chose free guy as the movie i know it’s not new but idk any other kid friendly movies that came out recently 😭 all i watch is horror, thrillers and documentaries

You love your job, there was no lie there. You got to play different characters and dress up in either fancy dresses or a superhero suit depending on the movie you were filming. It was an easy and exciting job, but somehow your kids were clueless. They knew their dad raced cars for a living, but their mom? They had no clue.

So one day you got an opportunity to star in a family movie with Ryan Reynolds in the movie Free Guy. You play the part of ‘Molotov girl’ or Millie, the characters actual name. Sometimes you would bring your two kids, Sage and Henry. When the day of the premiere came, you decided to make it a family event so you were joined by Mark and the kids.

After walking the red carpet and taking pictures, your little family was seated in the theater to begin watching the movie. As the movie played, you looked over at your kids to watch their reaction. They laughed and pointed at the screen when you showed up saying “look! It’s mum!”

“Yeah, that’s mum.” Mark laughed.

When your kiss scene with Ryan came up, you were nervous at how your kids would react seeing as you were going to kiss someone that wasn’t their dad. You payed attention to them and watched as they gasped when you and Ryan kissed.

“Mum! Why are you kissing him?!” Sage turned to you, her face full of confusion.

“That’s not dad!” Henry turner to Mark. “That’s not you!”

“It’s like playing pretend, Henry. Mum is playing pretend.” Mark tried his best to explain. He didn’t want to disrupt anyone around them so he talked quietly. “We’ll talk after the movie, okay? We have to be quiet right now.”

The kids understood so they remained in their seats that was until another kiss scene between you and Joe Keery at the end of the movie. It was short since right when you and Joe kissed, the movie ended right away, but that didn’t stop your kids from looking at you with even more confusion.

As promised, when you, Mark and the kids were on your way back to the hotel, you explained your job.

“So your job is playing dress up?” Sage wondered.

“Yeah, that’s it. Mommy plays dress up.” You laughed along with Mark.

“But why did you kiss someone that wasn’t daddy?” Henry asked. “Do you not love daddy anymore?”

“Honey, I love daddy more than anything. That’s part of mommy’s job. Like daddy said, it’s pretend so it was like a fake kiss.” You explained.

Thankfully, Mark had pulled up to the parking lot of the hotel and parked the car. That’s when you and Mark looked back at your kids.

“We love each other and we love you, okay?” Mark made sure they understood.

“But you don’t fake kiss?” Sage asked.

“No, daddy and i real kiss, see?” You placed a kiss on Mark’s lips as your kids yelled “ew!”

“Cooties!”

“Stop! My eyes!”

[starboye]

pairing: joe burrow x male reader

request: Joe Burrow x male reader. Joe fucks a young janitor (the reader) in the gym showers after a long day of working out/practice. (Pls include kissing and ass slapping/grabbing)

warnings: smut, cream pie, unprotected sex, shower sex, slight daddy kink, ass slapping

after a long day of running drills for the coach in the scorching hot sun joe was happy to finally be able to relax in the shower but my god was he pent up like a mother fucker, not being able to get off in the past couple of days because of the constant practices he had to be at but he was hoping he'd be able to rub one out while showering.

and you, the janitor at this fine football establishment were just supposed to clean out the showers and leave, not wanting to be in the smelly room any longer than you had to be, but while cleaning up you hear the showers turn on "no one's supposed to be here, it's past closing" you muttered walking to the source of the sound.

you turned to the showers and saw a naked joe washing himself "jesus christ" you jump back making joe also jump and whip around to see you standing there with your eyes cover "oh my god sorry i was just trying to see who was here y'know since we closed a while ago" you explain avoiding eye contact with the man "no it's my fault i stayed after hours to practice some more" joe says covering his dick.

you peek through your hand and see that it's safe to look so you put your hand down to you crotch to cover the growing boner "uh yeah uhm just make sure to clean it up and you can go" you say turning to walk away but joes voice calls you back "wait would you mind helping me with something" joe asks and you turn back to look at him.

he uncovers his hands to show a prominent hard on "i haven't gotten off in a while and i need some help" joe shyly admits making you get a boner quickly and he takes notice to it and stretches his hand out to massage your growing dick "y-yeah sure i could help" you say taking off your clothes without even thinking.

joe slowly strokes himself to the image in front of him till your fully unclothed, naked for him, he wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you into a kiss "can i fuck you" joe asks in between the kiss "please do" you shallowly say making joe push you onto the wall.

you arch your back in to poke your ass onto his dick, the water falling onto both of you as joe lays kisses onto your neck lightly "ok 1 2 ... 3" joe counts down before sliding into you, making you moan out loudly and you were so glad no one else was in the gym.

he slowly thrusted back and forth in your hole making you feel so good "can i go faster, i'm so close" joe asks, his breath fanning across your neck as the heat of the showers makes you hotter internally, joe now thrusting into you quicker and harder than before.

you hear a loud smack from joe as he smacks your ass and holds them in his hands, massaging them and admiring how you're swallowing him up "fuck you feel so good" joe groans throwing his head back "you don't feel so bad yourself" you chuckle but that quickly gets turned into moans as you cum, you had to admit it has been a while since you got layed and this was getting pretty good.

"i want your load so bad" you whimper squeezing around the man, silently and loudly begging for him to fill you up with his arousal "you want me to fill your hole up with my cum" joe asks with a smirk "mhm please daddy" you whine and joe pulls you into one more kiss before he throws his head back.

you could fell his thick ropes of cum spilling into you as your groans and moans were covered by the loud shower, you both stand there for some time catching your breath before he pulls out of you, some of his load falling out but you wipe it from your leg and lick it off your fingers making joes cock twitch "thanks for the help" joe smiles "you're welcome and i hope to do it again sometimes" you flash a quick smile and kiss his cheek.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09

©starboye productions

[youaintnothinbuta]

If I start to drive you nuts with requests please tell me to stop. 😂 the last story was so cute though, just perfect in fact. Could I request an Elvis x reader where the reader is a home baker and maybe she keeps making different stuff for Elvis to try? Like 70s Elvis? I hope you’re having a good week so far. Blessings to you my friend. ☺️🙏

“Just a little bit more.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: fluffy drabble of reader baking and Elvis enjoying her creations and being all cute :)) A/N: I am now craving apple crumble so bad

Pairing: Elvis Presley or Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 732

Warnings: none! Fluffy Drabble. Hopefully no typos hehe <3

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Graceland’s kitchen had become your favorite place lately. You’d always liked baking, but recently it had turned into quite the passion. The countertops were perpetually dusted with flour, the air always filled with the aroma of freshly baked goods, and the shelves were lined with jars of sugar, spices, and all sorts of ingredients you’d started experimenting with. You knew the Memphis mafia would all be coming over (as they usually were) and you were eager to whip up a nice treat for them— apple crumble. The cinnamon and sugar-coated apples were bubbling away in the oven, the crumble topping turning a perfect golden brown.

As you worked, you hummed softly to yourself, the kitchen warm and inviting. The timer rang, you slipped on an oven mitt, carefully pulling the dish from the oven and setting it on the stove. You couldn’t help but smile, satisfied with how it looked. You grabbed a fork, scooping up a small portion, blowing on it before tasting. The apples were tender, the topping was crisp, and the flavors melded together perfectly.

“Elvis!” you called out, your voice carrying through the house.

In the living room, Elvis had been sitting with a few of his friends, joking around, playing the piano, enjoying the afternoon.

At the sound of your voice, he excused himself with a grin and made his way to the kitchen. You didn’t notice him at first as you were pulling plates from the cupboard, but you felt him step behind you, his arms slipping around your waist.

“Hi, sugar,” he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply. “Smells nice,” he murmured, his voice low and warm.

You leaned back into him, smiling. “Here, try some.” You turned in his arms, holding up the fork. Elvis took the bite, his eyes closing as he savored the taste. He hummed in approval, and you could see the enjoyment on his face.

“That’s real good, darlin’,” he said, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

You smiled at his praise, feeling a swell of pride. “I’m glad you like it.”

He reached for another forkful, but you playfully swatted his hand away.

“Hey now, wait until everyone else has a chance to try it!” you laughed, but handed him another small piece anyway. “Just a little bit more.”

Elvis chuckled, taking the bite and nodding in approval. “I ain’t gonna be able to move on stage if ya keep feeding me like this.”

You laughed, reaching up to run your fingers through his dark hair. “Nonsense, Elvis.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. The warmth of his affection made you melt into him, the two of you enjoying the quiet moment in the kitchen.

“How ‘bout we bring some of this out to the guys?” You suggested.

“They’d love that,” he agreed. You grabbed a knife to slice the crumble into portions. Elvis grabbed the plates you’d gotten out, and you followed him back to the living room.

As you served up the apple crumble, the room filled with appreciative murmurs and compliments. Elvis sat beside you on the couch, his hand resting on your knee, and you could feel the pride in his touch. He was always so admiring of the way you went out of your way to look after everyone, a trait you and he both shared.

“This is really somethin’,” Joe said, taking a bite. “You’ve got a real talent here.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit bashful under the praise. “I just enjoy it, that’s all.”

Elvis squeezed your knee gently, his smile full of pride. “She’s bein’ modest. She’s been keepin’ us all spoiled.”

“Can I take the recipe home to Pat?” Red asked, finishing his slice.

“Of course,” you said, your smile widening.

After everyone had finished, the conversation shifted back to whatever they’d been discussing before, but Elvis stayed close by your side, his arm draped comfortably around your shoulders. You leaned into him, enjoying the easy companionship of the moment.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear.

“I love you too,” you mumbled.

Later, after everyone had gone, and the house had quieted down, you and Elvis found yourselves back in the kitchen, cleaning up the remnants of the evening. You were washing the dishes, and he was drying, the two of you working in comfortable silence.

[ihaznoclue]

I RAN HERE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE BC I NEED TO REQUEST READER KICKING ASS I NEED READER TO GET THEIR GAME UP I NEED READER TO FINALLY STAND UP!!!!! THE READER EVOLUTION!!!!! so basiclly 🥺 im gonna request the fan favorites lycaon, ellen, anby,Billy, I think nicole is one them.... being saved from a thereal by the reader🔥🔥🔥🔥

Also I hope you have a nice day if all your fans are dead then I am no longer alive bro I think about the stories/Headcanon you make all dayyyyy I LOVE THEM SO MUCH and you as well hehe

ILYSM! I SWEAR TO GOD YOU ARE LITERALLY THE CUTEST! T^T TYSM -v- THIS REQUEST IS BADASS >o< I'm going to try my very best just for you <3

Pairings -> Von Lycaon, Ellen Joe, Anby Demara, Billy Kid, Nichole Demara x Reader

Warnings -> None maybe some swearing

Note -> Just Reader being a badass as they save the one and true love, princess in distress and the love of their life from an Ethereal

Genre -> Fluff

Von Lycaon

Okay it basically all started when you guys were in the Ballet Twins, Victoria housekeeping making sure everything is in touch but then met other strangers that was from the cunning hares

You noticed some sense of tension when the bangboo was picking up a recoding player or a music device as the bangboo said

Then a Ballet Ethereal appeared as Ellen and Corin went to attack, it was time to fight

You were so ready to kick these Ethereals asses, they were quite annoying as they always seem to love to scartch their pointed legs on the metal ground below them as they danced

You were fighting along side with your work friends as well as your boyfriend Lycaon, you have been together for a while before you both started working as a butler and a maid.

Lycaon was your boss and boyfriend which made it more exciting for you, since Lycaon would give you raises and some compliments toward you which always makes you blush in happiness

Now here you were fighting a long side with your love, it seems that the Ethereal was only targeting Lycaon as it started to spin its way to him, it looked like he didn't reacted quickly enough

You on the other hand, took your weapon and shielded Lycaon's body behind yours as you were sent flying to a wall that was a couple feet away from where you just were

"Y/n!" Lycaon's voiced called out as he sprinted to you to check if you were okay while the girls handled the Ethereal

"Are you okay My love?" He asked, checking to see if you had any Injuries

It has seemed that your forehead started to bleed but you laughed "Fuck yeah I'm okay, I protected you and that's all that matters to me" You proudly said

Lycaon just sighed as he patted your head, helping you up

"Let's finish this fight and then I'll treat your wounds, Also Language Young Lady"

"I'm perfectly fine Babe~" You flirted

That was totally worth it

Ellen Joe (this is not with an Ethereal)

Another scenario when you two were in the Ballet Twin fighting the Ethereal, but after finishing off the Ethereal went as it scattered away by bowing

Ellen didn't realize the flying bombs that was heading her way, she turned only a second to late

But instead of the bombs crashing into her, you charged your way to protect her as your sword sliced each bomb making the bombs go off

Ellen was in shocked but also impressed

She got quite lucky to have you since you were very skilled with your sword and you also protected the master Proxy and your girlfriend

Looks you have done a lot today, protecting everyone you love and cherished the most

Ellen seemed to have grumbled on how she didn't noticed but instantly thank you as she kissed your cheek in return of favor

You smiled as you spoke "Did you get hurt?" Ellen shook her head

"All thank to you, But are you hurt?"

"Nope, No cuts or bruises" You smiled

Ellen rolled her eyes and she chuckled "Okay smartass"

You laughed, At least you protected Ellen in all way possible but now you had to handle the people who sent those bombs toward your girlfriend

You snapped you head towards the direction the bombs were coming from as you saw people scattering away in fear

"Bingo"

Anby Demara

It was the time when you and the team went to get a important item for Nicole called the strong box, you guys went all the way to only get into a hollow

You were separated form the other but you were with Anby, which was fine since you two were close as in "dating"

Anby was the one who confessed which was surprising for you but you accepted her confession as you both started dating for quite a well

Now you two were in a hollow together, trying to find the other which I mean Billy and Nicole

After a while, Billy was found and went to find Nicole with you guys, finally you all were all together again

You guys were now in front of the strong box but was disturbed by something, you heard a noise that sounded like a Ethereal

You turned around to see an Ethereal sneaking up on Anby so you went in protective mode as you went to Anby to push her away as you took the hit instead as you went flying a couple feet away

"Name!" Your name was called out by Anby as she went up to you

"I'm fine, I'm fine" You smiled

Anby sighed as she helped you up

Looks like you guys have to fight a powerful Ethereal

But at least you were together

Billy Kid

Okay now this is a tough one, you and Billy have been together for a WHILE since you and him were obsessed with Starlight Knight so you guys met on one of those meeting things for the movie

Now you guys were together in a hollow, trying to find the other members of the cunning hares, Nicole and Anby

Billy kept his eyes open just in case for any Ethereal that might come charging at you and him, but for you were like a eagle, looking out for anything valuable or any threats that might come your way

You wanted to protective Billy and you knew he wanted to protect you, that's why you loved him, he was silly and goofy as well as amazing guy to hangout with

You and him would go on arcade dates and play snake duel at godfinger

It was always fun

You thought of those memories but stopped as you heard a noise that sounded like groaning and grumbling

An Ethereal

You turned around to see nothing but then turned to Billy to warn him but instantly noticed an Ethereal behind him, you went into fight mode as you ran up to the Ethereal

Billy thought you were going for a hug but instead

You wrapped your arms around Billy as you sliced through the head of the Ethereal making it go limp as it feel to the ground

You huffed through your nose

No-one hurts Billy, not even you

"Oh, so you weren't going for a hug." Billy whined

You chuckled as you hugged him "I protected you dummy"

"My hero"

Nicole Demara

This girl got you and her in a sticky situation, you guys were in a hollow for god knows how long all because of a box that she liked to call it the strong box

You guys were chased by a gang and sudden went into a hollow that wasn't far from the building you guys fell out of just because a helicopter shot at you guys for not caring who was in the building

But it looks like you were with your girlfriend which was good so you could keep a eye out for her

"Ugh, I never thought this would happen now we are stuck down here and the others are gone" She complained

You felt worried about Nicole, so you comforted her and said that you guys should keep going to find the others so she agreed

You kept your guard open and you knew there was a lot of Ethereal creatures in this hollow you guys were currently in

You kept your weapon in your hand just in case

After a few moments you heard many noises from your left side that was until a Ethereal attacked both of you

Looks like you two had to fight

During the fight, Nicole wanted to see if you were okay but didn't notice the Ethereal launching at her so you ran to her

You caught her with your arm as you hit the Ethereal in the blackhole looking head making it fall to the ground

You looked to Nicole to see if she was okay, but all you could see was Nicole's red face

You noticed the position you guys were in, as you had a arm aroudn her waist as your other had you weapon that was in the air, Nichole's body was leaning on your arm as she was caught just in time before she hit the ground

"You okay?" You asked, Nicole nodded as she hummed a yes

You smiled and chuckled a little

"Guess You fell for me~" You flirted as she pushed your face away as she started to whined about how close you guys were

"Okay, you're too close!" Nichole shouted

"Hun, We are literally dating"

"That's not the point!"

I finished this later than expected

-A<3

[fadingdaggerr]

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

[hayleythesugarbowl]

since you're taking requests for joey from friends, could you possibly write an angsty one-shot (with a happy ending)? i love your writing sm and i love joey so im sure it'll be perfect <3

The One With the Pie || Joey Tribbiani x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • f•r•i•e•n•d•s masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: after your crush on joey ends before it can begin, you start to move on. but maybe, just maybe, the story of you and joey isn’t over just yet

word count: 6.6k

warnings: suggestive material

a/n: thank you for this request love!! i hope you enjoy this and it’s angsty enough for u 💋 there’re two ocs in here (james + jessica) so if you don’t recognize them from the show that’s why!! also somehow i made this way longer than i intended to so sorry about that but enjoy!! <3💌🩰

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Joey, stop!” 

     You jumped towards Joey, trying to retrieve your stolen piece of pie from him, which he was currently holding above his head.

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

     “That pie had my name on it,” you huffed, making another jump for it. 

     “I don’t remember seeing a name,” he acted innocent, crumpling up a piece of paper that most definitely had your name on it.

     “Oh yeah? And what is that?” You made a grab for it and he threw the paper behind him, catching your wrist. 

     Your heartbeat picked up because of the jumping and certainly not because of the sudden physical contact with Joey. Or, that’s what you were telling yourself. 

     “That is just my…grocery list.” Joey gestured at the ball of paper. 

     “You don’t buy your groceries,” you countered, “so nice try.”

    “Curse you, Chandler.” 

     You shook his hand off your wrist and gripped his forearm for leverage as you tried to twist to grab the pie again. 

     “So you admit, my name was on that pie?” 

     He smiled. “Nope. Still no. And unlabeled leftovers are fair game.”

     “Not when they’re from my fridge,” Monica walked over to you and Joey, pinching him and grabbing the pie. She handed it back to you.

     “Ow, Mon,” he rubbed at his arm, “I was going to give it back. I was just borrowing it.”

     “Yeah, and I had it under control.” you realized your hand was still around Joey’s arm and you quickly put a hand on your hip.

     Monica watched the movement and then rolled her eyes at both of you.

     “And you’d better make sure you didn’t get crumbs all over my floor with that,” she called as she walked back towards her bedroom.

     You’d been staying with Monica and Rachel while you looked for a place. You appreciated her sharing her apartment with you but you couldn’t say you didn’t miss being able to put your feet on the furniture and drink milk out of the carton.

     As Monica disappeared from view, Rachel walked out of her room in a bathrobe. 

     “Hey (Y/n), hey Joey,” she said on her way to the fridge, “Wait a minute, what are you doing here, Joe?” 

     “Stopped by before my audition to eat my leftover pie,” he said. You elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow, ok (Y/n)’s pie. Happy?” He looked at you.

     “Very,” you said, satisfied.

     “Well, good luck at your audition,” Rachel said, looking in the refrigerator. 

     “Thanks,” Joey said, sitting down at the table, before standing up again quickly. “Oh right, my audition! I’d better get going. Last time I was late to one of these the casting director made me pay.”

     “What’d they do?” You asked.

     “Made me give her 10 bucks for wasting her time. Like I had 10 bucks with me,” Joey said as he walked towards the door. 

     “Break a leg! You’re going to kill it,” you called after him. 

     “Thanks (Y/n),” He kissed you on the cheek before leaving and you watched him go, trailing a hand over your cheek where Joey’s lips had been. 

     “You’re so obvious,” Rachel said pouring milk in her cereal.  

     “I don’t know what you mean,” you told her, as if she didn’t know that you’d been crushing on him for the past few weeks. Rachel just raised an eyebrow at you.

     You hadn’t known what had changed. You’d been friends with Joey for nearly a year. But sometime recently you had started to see him differently and you wanted more and more to be something more than just friends. 

      “You say that every time,” Monica said, obviously overhearing and walking back into the room. “And so I’ll tell you what I tell you every time. Tell him.” 

     You had been avoiding that part for a while. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to make a move—you knew you’d have to at some time if you wanted your relationship to progress any further—but it was more that you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with Joey. You valued it so much and you couldn’t bear to make things weird between you if he didn’t feel the same way. And you doubted he did. He’d never exactly expressed interest in you. 

     “What’s the worst that could happen?” Monica continued.

     Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at her. 

     “Ok I get it, a lot,” she said, “But what’s love without a little risk.”

     You preferred not to risk anything, thank you. But she was right. You knew it. You ran a hand through your hair as you thought. “I don’t know, Mon.”

     “Come on sweetie,” Rachel added, “Joey would be lucky to have you. You’re sweet and funny and kind. Heck, if he doesn’t take you I will.” She smiled at you. 

     You laughed and gave in. “You really think I should tell him?

     “Yes,” they said at the same time and you laughed.

     “But only when you’re ready,” Rachel added, putting a hand on your arm. 

     Were you ready? You supposed you never really would be. 

     You steeled yourself, “Alright, I’ll talk to him.”

    You walked towards the door. 

    “Honey?” Rachel called, “Love the enthusiasm but Joey’s not home.”

     You remembered the audition. “Right,” you walked back towards the kitchen, “tomorrow.”

     You couldn’t say you were sorry about the delay. It would at least give you more time to think about what to say. You sat down at the table with Rachel and Monica and began to peel a banana, thinking about what tomorrow might bring.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You knocked on the door of Joey’s apartment. You weren’t exactly ready, but it was now or never, you thought, as you waited for Joey to answer the door.

     You were greeted by Chandler instead. You let out a breath. 

     “Oh, I thought you were going to be Joey,” you told him.

     “No need to look so disappointed,” Chandler said, “Good evening to you too.” 

     “I’m not disappointed,” you told him, “I just—is Joey home?” You asked. 

     “You know, if I had a dollar every time a girl said that to me when opening this door…” 

     You shook your head, smiling, “I just have something I need to ask him.”

     “He’s out right now but he should be back soon. Can I take a message?”

     “This is kinda something that needs to be said in person,” you said, playing with a strand of your hair.

     Chandler led you in to the apartment and you sat down on the couch. 

     “So how did Joey’s audition go?” You asked Chandler, trying to make small talk so you wouldn’t die of anticipation while you waited for Joey to get home.

     “Not great,” he admitted, “Something about apple juice and a wild parrot which I’m assuming means he didn’t get the part.”

     You laughed despite your nerves. You didn’t even want to know what Chandler meant by that.

     “I thought maybe he was at a callback,” you said, thinking aloud, “but never mind.”

     “No, Joey has a date,” Chandler said. “Some hot girl he met at the audition, so I guess it wasn’t a total waste.”

     You stopped listening. Hot girl? No. This couldn’t be happening. Joey was out right now with some beautiful woman and you were waiting in his apartment ready to confess your love for him. 

     “(Y/n), are you ok?” Chandler must have noticed your expression because he looked concerned.

     “I have to go,” you told him in a hurry before bouncing up and walking towards the door. It was only then when you heard footsteps approaching and the sound of Joey’s voice as he talked to someone—presumably his date. You ran the other way back towards Chandler.

     “You have to hide me,” you gripped his shirt in your hands. 

     Chandler looked absolutely baffled. You didn’t have time for this.

     “Now!” 

     “Um, my room,” Chandler said as he hurried you in there. 

     “If he asks just say you have a girl in here,” you called out to him in a whisper.

     “He’s not going to believe that!” Chandler whisper-yelled back to you before you started to shut the door quickly. 

     “You’ll think of something,” you said back. “Tell me when the coast is clear.”

     You left Chandler looking lost in the living room. Safely behind his door you relaxed but only a little. You would just wait until Joey went to the bathroom or something and then Chandler would sneak you out. No harm done, right? You would feel sad later. 

     You heard Joey enter the apartment and you could just make out his and Chandler’s voices.

      “So how was it?” Chandler asked him.

      “Amazing! Jessica’s great! She stopped to say hi to someone she knew down the hall but she’ll be here any second.”

      “Well that’s fantastic, Joe,” Chandler said. 

     “What’s fantastic?” You heard a female voice and your hearing sharpened.

     “You are,” you heard Joey tell her smoothly.

     “No you’re fantastic,” she said back.

      You were going to be sick. Every word they said was like a punch to the gut. And you didn’t mind admitting that you mocked Joey’s date behind the closed door like any self-respecting person would. 

      “Well, I’m glad you two had a good time,” Chandler said, “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll just be getting back to my room.”

      You heard Chandler’s footsteps grow closer to you. They were both silent for a moment and you strained to hear. You leaned forwards and knocked an alarm clock off the desk. It crashed to the floor and you might’ve been fine if it didn’t begin going off loudly. You cursed Chandler under your breath for buying an alarm clock that made rooster sounds. 

     “Chandler, do you have someone in there?” You heard Joey say. 

      “W-why would you think that?” 

     “Yeah you’re right,” he said, laughing it off, “Like you would have a girl in your room that I don’t know about.” 

      “Yep, that’s me,” Chandler said wryly, “alone forever.”

      Chandler opened the door just a crack and then stepped into his room. 

      “You better pretend to be my date next time we do this,” he whisper-yelled. 

     “You better have a normal alarm clock next time we do this!” You threw your arms up.

     “It makes me think of the farm!” he said, indignantly.

     “You’ve never lived on a farm!”

     “Whatever,” Chandler gave up, “You can go now, Joey’s in his room with Jessica.”

     You nodded and felt relieved as you made your way to the door. You only realized what this meant when you heard Joey and Jessica in the other room.

     And from the sound of it, they were certainly enjoying the second part of their date. 

     And with that the reality of the evening crashed down on you. You and Joey weren’t  going to happen. He was clearly interested in whomever this woman was and your plans for confessing your feelings were obviously ruined.

     You sat down on Chandler’s bed and put your head in your hands—and over your ears so you didn’t have to hear what was going on in Joey’s room.

     Chandler sat down next to you and placed an arm around you. 

     “I know,” is all he said as he rubbed your shoulders.

     “How do—” You started, sniffing. You hadn’t actually told Chandler why you were here to see Joey. He ignored it. 

     “His loss,” Chandler said and you managed a weak smile as you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

     This was so not how you imagined this evening going. 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “…and then they did it for the rest of the night and Chandler and I watched a movie,” you told Monica, Rachel, and Phoebe as you took a sip of your coffee.

     All three of you were at Central Perk and you were filling them in on the events of the past night. 

     Which had been, all things considered, fairly miserable. You appreciated Chandler hanging out with you all night and at least the volume of the movie drowned out anything else…almost. But you still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Joey and the other girl.

     “I’m sorry honey,” Rachel said, “is there anything we can do to help?”

     “Get rid of Jessica?” You mumbled sarcastically.

     “Well—” Phoebe started, an inspired look in her eye.

     You interrupted her, “I’m kidding, Pheebs. But I appreciate the support.”

     You sighed. You were just going to have to get on with your life and pretend nothing had ever been different. Pretend you didn’t want Joey every time that you saw him and be happy for him and his new relationship. 

     “Well, there are plenty of other fish in the sea,” Phoebe said. 

     “And if I don’t want any other fish?” You said, looking down at your coffee mug.

     “You could always talk to Joey about it,” Monica said. “I mean, maybe if he knew how you felt—”

     “Ok, don’t look,” Rachel said, watching out the window. “But Joey’s coming inside.”

     Your stomach flipped. For all you told yourself about moving on and pretending, you weren’t sure if you were ready to see Joey yet. What if it was too painful or you were to obvious? You paused, contemplating how weird it was for you to be nervous to see Joey. You had been friends for so long and you weren’t used to it.

     No time to think about that now, you told yourself as you jumped out of your seat and turned around. You saw Joey walk through the door and you backed up helplessly.

     “Hey guys,” he said, seeing all of you. 

     “Hey Joey,” Phoebe said, “It’s great to see you but, uh, Monica and Rachel and I were just about to go to our…knitting class. Right?”

     What was she doing?

     “Right,” Monica said, elbowing Rachel.

     “Oh yes, and we’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon,” Rachel said, understanding on her face. 

     They all walked towards the door and you stared after them hopelessly. 

     “Talk to him,” Monica mouthed and you bit your lip. 

     “Knitting?” Joey asked.

     “Yeah, well you know how I like the smell of…yarn,” Phoebe fumbled, “We’ll see you guys later.”

     And with that, her and the other two girls were gone leaving you alone with Joey. Well, alone aside from the dozen or so other customers oblivious to your awkwardness as you tried to find words…any words.

     Joey sat down at one of the tables and you sat on the edge of the couch a few feet away.

     “That was weird,” Joey looked thoughtful, “Does yarn have a smell?”

     You shrugged and Joey kept talking.

     “Anyway, I’m starving, do you want anything?”

     “No, thank you, I just ate.”

     A lie. You hoped your rumbling stomach didn’t deceive you.

     Joey ordered and then returned to his table, “So (Y/n), what’s new with you?”

     “Um, nothing really,” you said, “You?”

     You regretted it immediately when you heard his answer.

     Joey ran a hand through his hair, smiling, “Well, I met this really great girl the other day and I’m actually waiting for her right now. We’re supposed to go bowling. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

     “Oh, that’s awesome.” 

     Was your voice usually this high?

     “I’d love to meet her but, I have to go,” you checked your invisible watch, “now, actually. I’m meeting some friends.”

     Another lie. You had to get out of here before you were stuck meeting—

     “Jessica!”

     Joey hurried over to her and kissed her on the cheek. You bit the inside of your cheek and watched as Joey brought her over to you.

     “Jessica this is my friend (Y/n)…”

     Friend.

     “…and (Y/n), this is my girlfriend Jessica.”

    Girlfriend.

    You watched Joey smiling and looking expectantly between the two of you. You should be supportive of him. That’s what a good friend would do.

     So you inhaled and said, “Hi Jessica, it’s so nice to meet you.”

     “You too,” Jessica said, pushing her blonde locks behind her ear. “Joey and I really should be going but I’d love to get to know each other sometime.”

     “Definitely,” you said and Joey looked thrilled at the two of you talking.

     “See you later (Y/n),” Joey said and then more quietly, “wish me luck.”

     “Good luck,” you almost whispered as you watched Joey and his girlfriend walk away, his hand in hers, him leaning slightly down to hear something that she was saying into his ear.

     And you wanted to wish him luck, you really did. But as you watched Joey walk away with the Jessica, all you could think about was how desperately you wanted that to be you.

     You weren’t paying much attention to what you were doing as you picked up Joey’s forgotten drink order and scone. 

     You turned around to go sit down and crashed into something—or, someone it seemed—on your way there. The coffee went flying and you fell to the ground. 

     “Are you ok?” You heard a male voice say. 

     You looked up and saw a tall man staring down at you, coffee dripping down his front and an arm out to help you up. You took it and dusted yourself off.

      “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you hurried out.

     “My fault entirely,” he said. 

     “I’ll buy you a new shirt,” you said.

     “I didn’t like it anyway,” he waved it off. “You did me a favor honestly. Don’t tell Aunt Ruth.”

     You laughed despite yourself, and picked up the mug and scone from the floor.

     “I’m (Y/n),” you said, filling the silence.

     “James,” he shot back. 

     “Scone?” You offered him the pastry awkwardly.

     “Sorry, he said, “but my parents always said never to take floor-scones from strangers. Even very beautiful strangers.”

     You found yourself blushing and your eyes widened. What was happening?

     “But I’d be happy to take you out for real food sometime. If that’s something you would be interested in?”

     You played with the fabric of your shirt. You immediately thought of Joey bit stopped yourself.

     Why should you be thinking of Joey right now? He clearly wasn’t interested in you, so why waste time on something that clearly wasn’t going to happen. Maybe you should take this man up on his offer and go on a date with him. He was funny and nice and had called you beautiful. 

     “Ok, this is getting embarrassing,” he backed up, “Let me down easy, ok?”

     You laughed, “I would love to go out with you sometime.”

     “Not to sound super eager or anything,” he said, “but do you wanna do something now?” 

     “Your shirt?” You prompted.

     “Oh, I’m making it a style now,” he said. “I’m totally adding trendsetter to my resume.”

     “Alright then, let’s do something,” you said, feeling better than you had in the past couple days as James led you out of the door of Central Perk.

     Maybe this was just what you needed.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “Are you sure he’s coming?”

     “He’ll be here any second, I promise.”

     You answered Phoebe and took a deep breath as you sat at Central Perk with your friends, who were all eagerly waiting for your boyfriend to arrive so they could meet him. 

     Your boyfriend. You pondered the word. If someone has told you a week ago that you’d be seeing someone, you’d have laughed in their face. And no one probably would have, because your friends were just as surprised as you were. They all knew how you felt about Joey. 

     And until you met James you hadn’t thought it possible that you would get over Joey at all. Or at least not for a very long while. 

     But one date with James had turned into seven and you were actually happy. You had learned a lot about him and you had plenty in common. He was so easy to be around that it made you forget about Joey and Jessica and the relationship that would never be.

     Almost. You still felt bitter at the thought of them together, but you tried to push those feelings aside and focus on this relationship.          You reminded yourself that you should be over Joey.

     You saw a glimpse of a familiar flannel through the window of the coffee shop. 

     “Alright everyone be quiet, here he comes,” you said. 

     And you were over Joey, you told yourself, as you watched the amazing guy you were dating walk through the door and catch your eye, smiling at you. 

    You hoped, you added as you looked over at Joey finishing off a blueberry muffin. He shot you a thumbs up and you gave him a weak smile back. 

     “Hey (Y/n)!” James, your boyfriend of exactly three weeks, said. “Everyone.”

     A chorus of ‘hey’ and ‘it’s nice to meet you’ and ‘Well, now I know why (Y/n)’s dating you. You know, for the free firewood’ —that being Chandler—followed as you made the introductions. 

     You rolled your eyes at Chandler. James was an accountant, and not a lumberjack. He had talked about his love of numbers on multiple occasions.

     “It’s so great to finally see you,” Monica shook his hand, “(Y/n) talks about you all the time.”

     Did you? You supposed you did. You hadn’t let any of them meet James at first so your descriptions of your dates were all they had to go on. And if you exaggerated his perfection than it was just because you really liked him and wanted all your friends to like him. You shook off the thought that some of it might be to convince yourself.

     Because on paper James was perfect. And you really enjoyed spending time with him. But—

     You glanced over at Joey again. 

     No. He had his relationship and you had yours. It was better this way. Because he was still seeing Jessica and it sounded like they were hitting it off.

     And if some of your gushing about James was for Joey’s benefit than so be it.

     “All good things I hope,” James answered and you were brought back to the present. 

     Monica turned away and mouthed ‘he’s hot’ to you enthusiastically. You rolled your eyes at her. 

     “So, what do you do?” Ross asked James as the latter walked over and sat down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

     “I’m an accountant,” he said. 

     Chandler passed a five dollar bill to Ross, mumbling something about “being sure he was a lumberjack”. 

     Rachel elbowed Chandler and as he rubbed his arm she smiled warmly at James and said, “Well, any friend of (Y/n)’s is a friend of ours.”

     “Which hasn’t happened yet because all of (Y/n)’s friends are sitting on this couch!” Phoebe said, teasing. She wasn’t wrong.

     “Well, you all seem really great but (Y/n) and I have to run. We have a movie to get to.” James stood up and you moved with him.

     You said goodbye to everyone, taking James’s hand. On your way out you risked a glance at Joey. You couldn’t help it. He had been so quiet throughout your whole introduction. You didn’t know why, but you almost thought he was disappointed? Or maybe just bored? Probably wishing he was with Jessica right now. 

     Once you thought of it you wished you hadn’t because you felt awful all over again and you willed your cheeks not to heat. You sighed. Now, Joey was looking down, running a finger around the top of his empty coffee mug. He caught you looking at him and you tried to play it off by waving. Pretending you hadn’t just been staring at him. He gave you an almost too enthusiastic wave back and you just turned around and kept walking towards the door, away from Joey and towards your boyfriend who was waiting for you.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “I’m just saying, if pineapple doesn’t  belong on pizza then why is it on pizza?” Joey said, throwing down his cards on the table.

     “You got me there,”  Chandler said, rolling his eyes. “And I fold.”

     You stifled a laugh as you examined the cards in your hand. You, Joey, Chandler, and James were all seated around Joey and Chandler’s kitchen table playing a game of poker. 

     The whole thing had been James’s idea, and at first you weren’t sure that it was a good one. You’d been doing a lot of different activities that he had planned with your friends lately as he tried to get to know them  better. 

     You appreciated that he wanted to be friends with your friends and all of his efforts were actually adorable. You had already been with Phoebe to her grandma’s together, went with Ross to his museum, and last week you had gone shopping with   Monica and Rachel—and James somehow went home with an armful of fabric swatches, talking about undertones.

     But this was different. It was getting easier and easier to be around Joey as time passed and weeks went by and you were both in relationships, but things were still a bit awkward, on your part at least. 

     But it did seem like Joey was…distant lately as well. It was probably just the fact that he was spending a lot of time with his girlfriend and you scolded yourself for worrying about it. Right now you were just friends playing a game of poker. You looked over and James and found him trying to look at your cards. 

     “No peeking,” you told James as he looked over your shoulder, so not discreetly.

     “Maybe I just wanted to kiss you,” he covered, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

     “Full house,” you whispered to him, flashing him your cards and he smiled down at you.

     Chandler reached his arms out to Joey and pursed his lips, “Show me your cards?”

     Everyone laughed and Joey aimed his cards away from Chandler.

     “Hey, is it my fault for wanting to kiss my girlfriend?” James acted innocent. “Since when is that cheating?”

     He put an arm around you and you kissed him on the cheek.

     “House rules,” Joey said.

     James shrugged, “He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”

     As he grabbed your hand you heard Joey’s chair slide on the hard-wood floor. 

     “I’ll be right back guys, I’m going to go get us something to eat. Play this hand without me.”

     You watched him leave the room and Chandler called after him.

     “But you don’t have any money with you!”

     “I’ll go to Monica’s,” he called back.

     “You most certainly will not,” Monica said and you turned around to find her standing in the doorway of her apartment. “And your girlfriend’s waiting for you. Why in my apartment, I don’t know.”

     “Oh, right,” Joey said sheepishly, “Can I use your apartment? I told her I’d be over there. It’s important.”

     “Joey!” You heard Monica yell before Chandler got up and shut the door and their voices became muffled. 

     You tried not to think about what important thing Joey could mean. You pushed thoughts of him and Jessica away and reminded yourself that you didn’t care.

     “Well,” Chandler said, “I think I’m out too before I lose anymore money and then who’ll pay the rent?”

     “Yeah, I should get going. I promised my sister I’d help her clean out her basement,” James headed towards the door and Chandler raised an eyebrow at him.

    “Hey,” James defended, “If you’d seen my sister’s house you’d understand why it’s a two person job. Or, a team of movers’ job. Bye, (Y/n).”

     He kissed you quickly and then left the apartment, leaving you with Chandler. It felt eerily like a little over a month ago when you had gone there to ask Joey out.

     “So, you’ve been seeing James for a while now,” Chandler prompted.

     “Yep,” you said, “He’s really great.”

     Chandler stepped towards you hesitantly, “So you and Joe?”

     “What about me and Joe?” You kept your voice even, “He’s in a relationship and so am I. We’re both happy and that’s that.”

     “Well—” Chandler started, but was interrupted by Joey sighing as he entered his apartment. 

     “Glad that’s over with,” Joey said.

     “Did you let her down easy?” Chandler asked.

     “As easy as I could. And then she started crying and—this is why I just don’t call people back,” he sat down on the couch. “Breaking up with people in person is hard.”

     “What? You broke up with Jessica?” You could hardly believe it. “I thought you guys were so happy together.”

     Joey looked over at you, “Well, you know, we just didn’t have that much in common.”

     You were both silent for a moment. 

     “Hey,” Chandler announced, “This is awkward! So I’m just going to...”

     He ran out the door and you cursed him under your breath.

     “Weird,” Joey mumbled and you sat down opposite from Joey as you processed this new information.

     Joey wasn’t seeing anyone. You stopped yourself before you could go any further. No. You were in a good relationship and Joey had just got out of one. Now was not a good time. And just because he wasn’t dating Jessica didn’t mean he all of a sudden wanted to date you. And you were over him. Right?

     “So you and James are really serious now,” Joey said.

     “Yeah, I guess,” you responded. You hadn’t really thought of it like that, but you suppose technically you were. 

     “Well, I’m really happy for you,” he said, “He’s a lucky guy.”

     It doesn’t mean anything, you told yourself, he’s just being a good friend.

     “Well, I’m sorry about you and Jessica.”

     “Don’t be,” Joey stood up, “It wasn’t meant to be.”

     He took a step towards you.

     “Do you ever wonder if anything’s actually ‘meant to be’? Or is it just our decisions that lead us places?” You pondered.

     “I think if something is meant to happen than you’ll realize it and make the decisions that lead you there,” Joey said, taking another step closer to you. 

     “Really?” You asked, “You don’t think something could be staring you in the face and you don’t recognize the signs?”

     “I think in a way you always know,” Joey said, more sincere now. “Even if you don’t realize it until it’s too late.”

     You were saved from working out the meaning of that and this whole conversation by the phone ringing and Joey picking it up. His face got dark before he covered it up and smiled at you.

     “It’s James.”

     You walked over and took the phone from him. 

     “Hello?”

      His voice was muffled but he sounded intense when he said, “Hey, (Y/n), I need to talk to you. Are you free…now?”

     “Um, yeah, I can be at Central Perk in five minutes.”

     “Sounds good,” he said, “I’ll see you there. Love you.”

     You hesitated and he hung up. Joey looked to you, obviously curious about what that was all about.

     “He says he needs to talk to me and to meet him in a few minutes.”

     You headed towards the door and Joey handed you your coat. 

     “See you later,” you said and he shut the door behind you as you stepped out into the hall.

     What could James possibly want?

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “James is leaving,” you announced. 

     You hung your coat on the coat rack of Monica’s apartment. All of your friends were lounging around in the living room but they rushed over towards you at this declaration and you held out your arms.

     “No, I’m fine, really.” 

     In truth, you were too fine. More fine than you should be, after dating James for the better part of a month and a half. Which wasn’t a long time, but you had gotten to know him well and you really liked him.

     “Are you sure you’re ok?” Rachel asked, putting a hand on your amt. 

     “Yes,” you reiterated, “James was offered a new job in California and he is going to take it. It’s all very sudden, but I’m ok. And technically, he gave me the option. To either stay long distance or end it now. I’m…still thinking it over.”

     You knew you should be more affected. But you felt numb to the sudden departure of your boyfriend. You knew you should be upset, and you were sad at the loss of him in your life. But it was more that you were going to miss spending time with him as a friend rather than as a boyfriend. 

     You didn’t pretend not to know why that was. 

     Either way, you still had to decide if you wanted to stay with him or not. He had left the decision up to you, saying that he’d be fine with whatever decision you made, and had told you to take all the time you need. 

     You told him you’d call him tonight. You didn’t tell him why you were hesitating to answer him. Because you wanted to stay with him. But you couldn’t make yourself say it, because what if you were missing other opportunities. Your conversation with Joey earlier had made you think and you couldn’t help but ponder what if.

     Not that you had much confidence in that. Joey wasn’t even here right now, you realized.

     You were brought back to the present. “So what are you going to tell him?” Ross asked.

     “I don’t know yet,” you sighed, “I suppose I have no reason not to stay with him, even though we’ll be so far apart.”

     That was the sensible thing, right? Stay with the great guy that wanted to be with you even miles and miles apart. You needed to stop focusing on what probably couldn’t be and focus on what already was. 

     “If you’re sure,” Monica said. “We’ll support whatever decision you make.”

    “I’m sure he’ll send you lots of free wood from California,” Chandler said, and you chuckled.

     “Phoebe?” Rachel furrowed her brow, “Are you alright?”

      Phoebe stood over by the couch. She was biting her lip and looked like she was stopping herself from saying something.

     “Phoebe?” You asked, “What is it?”

     “Oh, it’s just—” she started, “No, I can’t tell you! It wouldn’t be right!”

     “Tell me,” you said, walking over to her. 

     She backed up, “No!”

     “Phoebe!”

     “I can’t!”

     “Phoebe!”

      “Joey’s in love with you! Ok? There I said it,” She sat down on the couch and looked like she had been wanting to say that for a long time. 

     You felt like you had been turned upside down. 

     “He didn’t say anything because of you and James and, you know, but he loves you, (Y/n). And I know I shouldn’t be telling you and I promised him I wouldn’t but—” she stood up again, “I know you love him and before you make this decision you just need to know that.”

     You couldn’t even begin to comprehend this. Joey loved you? That couldn’t be true. Phoebe must be mistaken and—

     Joey walked into the apartment. You saw your friends look around at each other.

     “You love me?” You mumbled barely able to believe it. 

     Joey’s smiling face went pale and filled with horror as he backed up slowly.

     “Oops,” Phoebe mumbled and Joey glanced once at her before hurrying out the door and down the hall. 

     “Joey, wait!” You shut the door behind you and caught up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you.

     “Look (Y/n), I never meant to—” 

     “You love me?” You asked again. 

     “(Y/n), you have to believe me when I say—”

     You stepped so you looked Joey directly in the eye.

     “No, Joey,” you whispered, “I need to know, do you love me? 

     “I can’t love you, (Y/n),” his voice raised with every word, “I can’t love you. And I can’t love you so much that it hurts to pretend that I don’t….that I do…that I…” 

     He looked up, confused, “Oh, you get the point! And every time I see you with James I’m reminded of how I can’t have you.”

     Your conversation about signs and realizations came back to you. Your heart stopped beating. When you found words your voice came out shaky and breathless. “But…Jessica?” 

     “Jessica and I broke up,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I just realized that too late.”

     “And I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Joey continued, “I never planned on telling you any of this…”

     He looked up at you and you tried to discern the expression on his face. 

     “Just forget I said anything, ok?” Joey said looking pained, “I hope you and James are happy together, I really do. Just, forget it.” 

     He moved to walk past you and you started talking trust to stop him from leaving. 

     “James is an amazing guy,” you said, your words coming out slowly, “he’s smart and thoughtful and attractive—”

    “Is this supposed to be helping?” Joey asked, turning around. 

     “What I mean is, James is perfect,” you said, “but he’ll never be you.”

     Joey’s eyes snapped to yours and you continued, “I only started dating James because I was trying to get over you. James is moving away and he left the decision with me to end or keep our relationship.”

     You stepped closer to Joey. “So say the word. Tell me you love me. Tell me you love me and I’ll leave him and be yours.”

     Joey closed the distance between you, fire burning in his eyes. “I love you (Y/n). God, I love you so much.”

     And he kissed you. He kissed you like he had been waiting a thousand years. He backed you up against the wall and his hands went to your hair as you kissed him back. You threw your arms around his neck and took in the beauty of this moment.

     It was passionate and raw and everything you had been hoping for and more. 

     Joey pulled away from you, reaching to brush the hair back from your face.

     “Wow, (Y/n).”

     “Yeah,” you breathed. “I guess I have Phoebe to thank for this.”

     “You’re welcome!” You heard Phoebe’s muffled voice from the other side of the door.

     You smiled at Joey, rolling your eyes and walking over to open the apartment door.

     You turned the knob and all of your friends faces greeted you as they scrambled away from the door. 

     “Run!” Chandler yelled, “Scatter! She can’t catch all of us! It was Monica’s idea!”

     “Seriously Chandler?” Monica smacked him in the arm.

     You laughed. 

     “We’re just so happy for you two,” Rachel said. You tried to convey your gratitude to her—to all of them—for their friendship. 

     “I’m happy,” you said. You felt giddy in a way that you hadn’t in a long time—that you had never felt with James.

     “We knew you’d get together,” Phoebe nodded. “My psychic totally saw it coming.”

     “And we were only listening at the door for a little bit,” Ross added.

     Joey put his arm around you and you leaned in to him. You couldn’t even pretend to be offended, you were just glad to be here in Joey’s arms, surrounded by your friends. 

     “What do you say we go get a bite or something?” Joey asked you.

     You nodded as he walked out the door with you and down the hall once again. 

     “How about pie?” You teased, remembering your almost-stolen leftovers.

     “My treat,” Joey answered in agreement. “Have all the pie you want!”

     “Will it be mine this time?” You teased back.

     “All yours,” Joey said, stopping to look down at you softly. His eyes sparkled as he said, 

     “Just like me.”

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ˋ°•*⁀➷ i hope you enjoyed this, i love writing for the friends characters so much!! you can find my other friends fics on my friends masterlist. as always feedback is appreciated and i hope you have a lovely week!! 🍓🪩