#this wasn't supposed to take a long time oh my god

[edenesth]

ATEEZ as Hogwarts Students

Pairing(s): hogwarts student!ateez x hogwarts student!reader

Word Count: 9.8k

A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all so much for helping me reach 2.3k followers! To celebrate this, I'm back again with another one of these! Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me confirm which houses some of the members should be in💘

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong ↠ Gryffindor

The Poor Prefect That Nobody Takes Seriously

"I swear to god, if I see another damn chocolate frog loose in the dorm, I'll—" Before Hongjoong could even finish, a cheeky first-year passing by stuck his tongue out at him. "What are you gonna do? Run off to cry to Professor McGonagall again?"

The seventh-year's jaw dropped, his blood pressure spiking, but the kid was gone before he could even scold him. Two years—he'd been a prefect for almost two years now, and still, no one ever took him seriously. Thinking back to his early days as an optimistic prefect, eager to bring order and discipline to his rowdy housemates, he knew now how impossible that dream was.

But was he going to stop trying?

Not a damn chance.

Hongjoong had chosen to become a prefect the very moment he was eligible in his fifth year. Professors had always praised him as reliable, a natural-born leader, and he'd believed that wholeheartedly. He'd pictured himself bringing order to his dormitory, respected by his housemates for his efforts to keep things in line. But the reality? Gryffindors, as he was learning, could be a lot harder to control than he ever expected.

Unfortunately, his "small but mighty" reputation didn't exactly translate into authority. He'd start off with a firm tone, reminding them of the rules, only to watch them twist his words into a rallying cry for their next scheme. His attempts at seriousness somehow only fueled their chaotic Gryffindor spirits, making him seem more like a mascot for daring antics than a figure of discipline.

While the academic staff continued to commend his commitment, his classmates saw him as the "cool" prefect—the one who'd cover for them more often than not, a little too forgiving to actually be feared. Some nights, he'd even find himself dragged into the very pranks he was supposed to be preventing, swept up by the contagious energy of his friends.

Despite everything, Hongjoong couldn't bring himself to truly give up. Every morning, he'd tell himself that today was the day he'd put his foot down, that he'd be the prefect his professors always said he could be. He knew the odds weren't in his favour, but in true Gryffindor fashion, he wasn't about to back down from the challenge.

Today's the day—I can feel it in my bones.

Letting out a determined breath, Hongjoong's gaze fixed on the notice board, now littered with doodles, silly notes, and questionable "decorations." With a purposeful nod, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the Gryffindors lounging around the common room. "Forget the frogs then. How many times have I told you all not to vandalise the notice board with your nonsense? It's used solely for—"

"For important announcements. Yes, we get it," piped up a cheeky third-year, eyes glinting with mischief. "But there are no announcements at the moment, so is it really so bad if we, y'know, decorate a little?"

And there it was again—the quick responses that left him speechless every time. Hongjoong tried to keep his expression stern, but a tiny part of him could almost see their point. Was it so bad to have a bit of fun? No, he reminded himself, that's not the point. But as he felt his resolve waver, he knew a miracle wasn't going to happen today. Why couldn't he be both firm and likeable, just like—

"Oh, so you want to test if it's bad?" your voice cut through, sharp but calm, as you stepped down from the spiral staircase. You'd been listening long enough to hear their usual defiance, and you were not about to let them undermine your boyfriend's authority. "How about we invite the professors to take a look at your 'artwork' and see how much they'd appreciate it, hm?"

Like you.

Hongjoong released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, grateful for your support. You, with your knack for balancing authority and approachability, were everything he wished he could be as a prefect. If he could just learn how to be firm, like you, maybe Gryffindor's antics would finally come under control.

"You heard her," he added, finding a bit of confidence again as he nodded in agreement. "Clean it up. Now."

The students exchanged glances, sighing as they reluctantly began peeling off the doodles. He couldn't help but grin a little as he glanced your way.

"Thanks, babe," he mouthed.

You shook your head, smiling as you nodded toward the remaining Gryffindors lounging around. "I'm heading to the Great Hall first. I'll leave it to you to get everyone to breakfast on time, Joong. Think you can handle it?"

Hongjoong nodded enthusiastically, eager to make you proud. "You bet. They're going to see a whole new Prefect Kim this year," he declared confidently.

You laughed, both amused and a bit sceptical. He'd nearly caved to their antics just moments ago, but that was part of his charm. You loved how different he was from you—how he helped you loosen up when you were too serious, just as you helped him stay firm when he got a little too lenient. Together, you two were like yin and yang, balanced and perfectly matched, as everyone in the house always teased.

Squeezing his hand, you gave him a playful smile. "Show 'em, tiger," you winked before turning to leave, catching a glimpse of his cheeks turning pink.

The moment you were out of sight, the common room burst into whistles and smirks around him. Snapping out of his trance, your boyfriend rolled his eyes, trying to keep his composure.

"Alright, folks," he called out, clapping his hands. "You heard my girl. Let's cooperate for once and head to the Great Hall on time—don't make me disappoint her!"

The Gryffindors grinned, shuffling toward the door without a fuss, eager to play along. He smirked, pleased with their obedience whenever you were mentioned. Maybe he'd always need your presence to keep this difficult crowd in line, but he didn't mind at all. He knew they didn't have to fear him for him to be a good prefect. Deep down, he knew they all adored him, and he was pretty sure that, rule-breaking aside, they wouldn't truly make things difficult for him. They just loved teasing him—because, honestly, he might just be their favourite prefect.

Seonghwa ↠ Hufflepuff

The Goody Two Shoes and Teacher's Pet

"Oh, Seonghwa, my boy! What brings you here on a weekend? Shouldn't you be off enjoying Hogsmeade with your girlfriend?" Professor Sprout asked, pleasantly surprised as her star student stepped into the greenhouse, notebook in hand. The seventh-year smiled brightly, giving her a respectful nod before approaching.

"Good afternoon, Professor! I just came by to check on my mandrake—I'm determined to cultivate one to maturity for my latest Restorative Draught. And, uh… my girlfriend, she'll be here to join me soon," he added, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks turning pink at the mention of you.

Professor Sprout's expression softened, a smile touching her lips. "You're too hard working for your own good, both of you," she gently chided, pride swelling as she glanced at the Hufflepuff sigil pinned proudly on his denim jacket. Even on a day when house representation wasn't required, Park Seonghwa wore his Hufflepuff loyalty openly, reminding everyone where his heart belonged. She knew he had a bright future ahead, and if she were to ever consider early retirement, he would be her top choice to take over as the next Herbology professor.

As if on cue, you pushed open the greenhouse doors and stepped inside. "Hwa, are you here already?" you called, glancing around before your eyes landed on your boyfriend and Professor Sprout.

Seonghwa, who'd been focused on his mandrake, looked up at the sound of your voice, a soft smile lighting up his face. In the presence of authority, he resisted the urge to rush over and hug you, his restraint both endearing and unmistakable. You bit back a laugh, amused by his adorable attempt at composure.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Professor!" you greeted, nodding respectfully. "Are we disturbing you? We can come another day if you need the greenhouse for your work."

She smiled warmly, waving off your concern. "Not at all, dearie. I was just on my way out. You two enjoy your little date," she added with a knowing wink. "And if you're in the mood for a treat, there are some extra Every Flavour Beans on the top shelf—please help yourselves."

"Thank you, Professor!" you and Seonghwa chimed in unison, exchanging a look of warmth and shared gratitude. As the elderly woman left, he gently took your hand, pulling you close enough to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You leaned into him with a contented sigh. "How embarrassing—now she's certain we're dating," you murmured, unable to hide your own smile.

He chuckled, his eyes dancing with affection. "Is that such a terrible thing, love? Maybe it's time the whole world knows you're mine."

You gasped in mock scandal, playfully nudging his shoulder. "How improper," you laughed, but a blush crept into your cheeks. Though you'd never formally announced your relationship, it was hardly a secret—everyone must have guessed by now with all the time you spent together. But for the sake of his reputation as the model student, you'd both kept things understated, not feeling the need to broadcast your love. Now, though, there was a new spark in his eyes, a hint of the Slytherin heritage running through his veins, as if he suddenly wanted the world to see what his heart had always known.

Seonghwa, after all, was the first Hufflepuff in a long line of Ravenclaws and Slytherins—a surprise his family hadn't quite anticipated. But their surprise had never bothered him. Instead, it had only strengthened his resolve to prove that Hufflepuff was as noble and worthy as any other house. Consistently at the top of his class in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd gained the admiration of professors for his quiet dedication and high moral standards. Always the first to lend a hand to new students or submit his assignments, he was as dependable as they came.

Yet as much as he wanted to honour his house and his achievements, his heart now longed for something deeper. For the first time, he wanted his family—and everyone else—to see you, the one who had believed in him through every challenge and celebrated every victory, who had loved him exactly as he was. He knew that letting you into his life so openly would be the proudest badge he could ever wear.

"So," he began, biting his lip as he shifted his focus from the mandrake to you, who was busily jotting down notes about its latest growth. "Should we spend some time in Hogsmeade after this?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, and your eyes widened slightly, your actions faltering as you locked gazes with him.

"You're joking, right? All our friends are there—" you started, but he shook his head, his expression earnest. "I'm serious, love."

The weight of his words sank in, and you realised he wasn't joking at all. A rush of emotions washed over you. "I... I don't know why it took me so long, but I don't want to hide my feelings for you anymore. I want to openly show my affection and be like every other couple in school. It's already our seventh year, and we haven't even been on a proper date. Can we make this the first of many more? Would you like to... go on a date with me?"

Placing your pen down, you blinked, your heart racing at his sincere proposal. This was a big step. Once the truth was out in the open, there would be no turning back—everyone, including his family, would know about you two. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a rush of warmth. If he was ready for it, then so were you. You knew he would always protect you, no matter what.

With a shy smile, you nodded, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Thought you'd never ask."

His face broke into a radiant grin, and the world around you seemed to melt away. Seonghwa stepped closer, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder, enveloped in the warmth of his presence like a cosy blanket. "I can't wait," he murmured softly.

"Me too," you replied, a wave of excitement bubbling in your chest.

In that greenhouse, surrounded by vibrant plants and warm sunlight, you both felt the first tender blooms of something beautiful—a love that was finally ready to thrive in the open, with all the joy and light that came with it.

Yunho ↠ Hufflepuff

The Popular Triwizard Champion

"Well? Have you managed to figure out the next task, golden boy?"

Yunho's head snapped around at the sound of your voice, his wide eyes betraying his surprise. Before he could respond, a few stray water droplets from his damp hair splashed onto you, drawing a squeal from your lips.

"Oh no! Angel, I'm so sorry!" he stammered, hastily brushing at your sleeve, his genuine concern making you laugh. He held the golden egg tightly, now safely shut after his latest round of inspections. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You'll be in trouble if anyone finds you sneaking into the prefect's bathroom!"

You snorted, though your heart melted at the way his brows knitted with worry. "Well, I could say the same for you, Yuyu. You're not a prefect either," you quipped with a grin.

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the steamy room as he swam closer to where you sat at the edge of the bath, your legs lazily dangling in the water. Gently, he set the golden egg beside you, then rested his arms on your thighs, gazing up at you with a playful smirk.

"The difference is, I'm a Triwizard Champion," he teased, his grin widening, "and you're not."

Rolling your eyes, you booped his nose with a finger, earning a soft laugh from him. "True, I'm not," you replied, sticking your tongue out cheekily. "But I am your girlfriend, so that grants me a special privilege, doesn't it?"

Yunho's gaze softened as he beamed up at you, water glistening on his face like tiny jewels. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate. "It definitely does."

With a tender smile, you reached out to brush the water from his face, gently pushing his damp hair back from his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when he instinctively leaned into your touch, his warmth grounding you despite the growing tension in your chest.

"You haven't answered me yet," you reminded him softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Have you figured out the answer to the second task?"

He nodded, his hand lifting to cover yours on his cheek, holding it in place as though it anchored him. He gave your fingers a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I have," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. "But... I don't want you to freak out. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

Despite his comforting tone, the knot in your stomach tightened. You tried to mask it with a cheeky smile, nudging him lightly with your foot in the water. "Suuure, Yuyu. I totally believe you when you say these tasks will get easier. I mean, it's not like the first one involved dragons or anything."

Your boyfriend sighed, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. You knew he was thinking about the moment his name had been announced as the Hogwarts champion—the wave of fear that had gripped you as the Great Hall erupted in cheers.

He had submitted his name on a whim, more as a joke than anything. He hadn't thought for a second he'd actually be chosen. But of course, you should've known better. He was Jung Yunho—the school's golden boy. Everyone adored him, from his endless optimism to his natural charm. He could light up any room he walked into and never turned away anyone in need. His wild card selection had shocked everyone, but he had embraced it with the same unshakable enthusiasm he brought to everything in life.

For him, the Triwizard Tournament was an adventure, a chance to make memories and new friends. For you, it was a constant worry. You knew the dangers far too well, and it terrified you. Still, when he had emerged victorious after the first task, his joy had been contagious, and you told yourself you had to let your fear go. You couldn't hold him back from greatness. He needed your support, and you were determined to be the girlfriend he deserved.

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, hoping it would reassure him as much as it did you. "Alright," you whispered, brushing your thumb along his jaw. "So tell me. What's the second task?"

Before you could pull away, he held onto you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. His voice softened, steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"The Black Lake," he said quietly. "I... I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but the conviction in his eyes made you hold your ground. Whatever this task demanded, you knew one thing for sure: you'd face it together.

And his predictions couldn't have been more accurate—he and the champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had an hour to retrieve something that had been stolen from them from the merpeople's village beneath the Black Lake.

The lake was eerily silent, its surface shimmering under the overcast sky as Yunho broke through the water, gasping for air. His strong arms cradled you protectively, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. The tension that had gripped him since the start of the task finally began to ease now that you were safe in his embrace.

You coughed violently, expelling the icy water from your lungs, your breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. The fragments of what had happened began piecing themselves together in your mind—the haunting stillness of the underwater village, the muffled echo of water all around, and your boyfriend's words from the prefect's bathroom resurfacing with a jarring clarity: "I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

He had been right.

The task wasn't just about retrieving an object of value—it was about recovering the most precious thing stolen from them.

For Yunho, that had been you.

"Oh thank god, you're alright," he murmured, his voice thick with relief as he guided you onto the shore. The cheers and applause from the crowd were a distant hum in the background, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Grabbing a towel, he draped it over your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth before pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you securely, as though anchoring you back to him and shielding you from the chill that clung to the air.

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, his familiar scent grounding you amidst the chaos of the moment. Despite the lingering cold, a soft smile crept onto your lips. Your voice, though weak, carried an unwavering sincerity. "How could I not be? You'll always save me… my hero."

His grip on you tightened at your words, his heart swelling with emotion as he buried his face in your hair. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady but laced with the weight of his promise. "Now I understand how hard it is for you to worry about me. I promise I'll make it out alive, every time—for you."

The announcement of his second-place finish barely registered. Everything seemed insignificant in the face of what truly mattered. All that filled his mind was the undeniable fact that you were safe, right here in his arms—the one person he cared for most.

Yeosang ↠ Ravenclaw

The Annoying Ace

"Hey, Kang! What'd you get for Potions? There's no way you aced it this time—it was brutal, and you barely studied before the test," a fellow Ravenclaw called out, pulling Yeosang from his thoughts. He glanced up, a small, nonchalant smile gracing his lips as he held up his graded paper. "You're right, it was tough. I only got an A- this time."

The room fell silent. His classmates stared at him, their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Was he serious? Most of the class had barely scraped by, even after endless hours of revision. Seventh-year Potions was no joke, filled with the most complex and challenging formulas known to the wizarding world.

"Only an A-? Are you kidding me? Did you bribe the professor or something?" someone blurted out, their voice tinged with disbelief.

You, seated next to your boyfriend, shot them a sharp glare. "Say that again in front of Professor Slughorn. I dare you," you retorted, crossing your arms.

The student huffed indignantly, muttering under their breath. "Whatever. You probably cheated with Felix Felicis or something."

Before you could unleash another scathing comeback, Yeosang gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his calm demeanour soothing your rising temper. His ever-composed smile didn't waver as he addressed the accusation. "Well," he began, his voice light but laced with quiet confidence, "if we were skilled enough to brew the Liquid Luck flawlessly and effectively, wouldn't that alone prove we deserve our grades?"

The remark landed with perfect precision, leaving everyone speechless. They knew he had a point. Brewing the luck potion wasn't just difficult—it was borderline impossible for most, requiring six months of meticulous preparation and risking catastrophic failure if done even slightly wrong.

The room buzzed with unspoken thoughts. If you and Yeosang could pull off such a feat, would the Potions exam have been challenging for either of you?

Your lips quirked into a satisfied smile as you exchanged a glance with your boyfriend. That was just like him—always shutting down his doubters with quiet brilliance, never needing to raise his voice to prove his worth.

"Man, I really need to learn how to be as effortlessly cool as you," you teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge as he led you by the hand out of the classroom and toward the courtyard for some fresh air.

He glanced at you, his usual relaxed grin softening into something fonder. "You're already the coolest person to me," he replied casually as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you lightly smacked his arm, looking away as you bit your lip to hide the spreading blush. Even now, you could hardly believe he had accepted your confession back then—and that he was now your boyfriend. To you, he had always seemed so distant, so untouchable, like a star out of reach.

That was, until the day he noticed you struggling with a potion after class and offered to help. You hadn't known it at the time, but that small moment of kindness would lead to something far greater.

Yeosang is that Ravenclaw—the one who always seems lost in his thoughts yet somehow aces every test with ease, charming every professor in the process. He's the envy of his classmates, who burn the midnight oil studying while he effortlessly secures perfect scores. His calm, almost ethereal demeanour only adds to the intrigue, making him a bit of a mystery to everyone around him.

No one can figure out how he manages to zone out during Potions lessons and still brew flawless draughts, but they're too in awe (and slightly frustrated) to ask. It's just him—an enigma wrapped in quiet confidence, and somehow, he was yours.

"But seriously, Yeo, have you actually managed to perfect your luck potion? Don't think I didn't notice Professor Slughorn sneaking glances your way. He really did trust you to brew some for him, didn't he?" you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder, fingers gently squeezing his where they were intertwined with yours.

He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against you as he rested his head atop yours. With a flick of his wand, he cast a subtle charm to deflect a stray prank from a group of cheeky Gryffindors playing with products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The spell stopped the flying object just before it could land anywhere near you. Your heart fluttered at his nonchalant protectiveness, and you couldn't help but notice the envious sighs from a few girls nearby.

"I'll answer that," he murmured, his tone teasing, "when you tell me how you managed to brew such a flawless Amortentia draught."

You blinked, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "The love potion? What are you talking about? I've never even tried to make one."

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you sure about that?"

You furrowed your brows, your confusion deepening. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your tone laced with scepticism. But before you could press him further, he leaned in and stole a quick kiss, leaving you gasping softly in surprise. Your hand flew to your lips, cheeks aflame as you tried to process what just happened.

Yeosang chuckled at your flustered reaction, his arm slipping securely around your back as he guided you to keep walking. "Then explain how you managed to make me so hopelessly enamoured with you," he said, his voice low but teasing. "It's the only logical explanation for how smitten I am."

"Oh, obviously. That's the only logical explanation," you burst out laughing, playfully trying to push him away, but he held firm, his grip steady yet gentle.

He chuckled along with you, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Exactly, my love. You've clearly bewitched me, and I have no intention of breaking free."

"The feeling's mutual, my darling genius."

San ↠ Slytherin

The Intimidating Head Boy Who's Secretly a Softie

"Oh, come on, Pumpkin! When will you learn to leave the Monster Book of Monsters alone?!" San groaned in exasperation, his eyes following his mischievous cat as it darted around, narrowly avoiding the snapping Care of Magical Creatures textbook that was now chasing it across the yard. The naughty feline had somehow managed to unclasp the book—again. "Come here, you stubborn little thing!" he called, swooping in to scoop up the cat.

With practised ease, he approached the wild book, stroking its spine gently until it calmed and locked itself shut, just as Hagrid had taught. Of course, San was probably the only one who had actually paid attention to that particular lesson.

A dramatic gasp caught his attention, and he turned to find you standing nearby, a teasing grin plastered across your face.

"Well well, who would've thought? The scary and intimidating Choi San names his cat Pumpkin? And a cat, no less? I always pictured you with an owl or a crow. Guess you're a softie after all. Wait till the rest of the house finds out."

He rolled his eyes but smirked, settling back into his seat behind Hagrid's hut. "Go ahead and tell them, sweetheart. It's not like I asked anyone to see me as the 'mean and cold Slytherin.' If they want to believe that, then that's on them."

You chuckled and took a seat beside him, watching as he cooed at his cat and peppered it with kisses. "So, what's a big bad boy like you doing out here, hm?"

"Detention, obviously," he deadpanned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Fits my reputation, doesn't it?"

You shook your head knowingly, the corner of your lips curling upward. "If that's what you're calling it, sure. But Hagrid told me you were out here for some extra lessons on Hippogriffs when I passed him earlier."

He feigned a pout, resting his chin on Pumpkin's head. "Damn, you caught me. There goes my big bad boy image. Boohoo."

You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

San had always been an enigma to those around him. With his sharp, commanding presence and role as Head Boy, he had a reputation for being unapproachable. First-years practically scrambled out of his way in the corridors. But those who dared get to know him soon discovered that beneath the piercing gaze and confident swagger was a playful, caring soul who adored magical creatures.

And you? You were supposedly his rival—his female counterpart, according to your peers. With your equally composed demeanour and role as Head Girl, it wasn't uncommon for people to pit the two of you against each other. But those who looked closer would've seen the truth: you were far from rivals. If anything, you were two halves of the same warm, hidden flame, especially when it came to each other.

"Well, I hope you don't mind me joining you on your little detention, Choi," you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He hummed thoughtfully, nuzzling his head against yours. "On one condition."

"And what's that?" you glanced up at him.

He bit his lip, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend, Head Girl."

"Alright, alright. None of that in my class," Hagrid's booming voice cut through the moment, startling both of you as you quickly pulled apart, clearing your throats in unison.

San shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck while you tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh.

Hagrid folded his massive arms across his chest, his bushy eyebrows raised knowingly. "We're only doing this if you're both serious, okay? This isn't some fun little date idea."

You nodded earnestly, though the corners of your lips twitched with amusement. "Of course, Professor. We're serious about this."

But Hagrid wasn't done.

Turning his attention to the Head Boy, he added, "But please, do take her to Hogsmeade, lad. I've heard more than enough from you about how much you like her."

San's eyes widened, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep crimson. "H-Hagrid!" he stammered, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

You couldn't hold it in anymore, bursting into laughter as he glared at you half-heartedly. "Oh, you're never living this down," you teased, nudging his arm.

"I—uh—yes, sir," he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he stared down at the ground, clearly flustered.

The professor chuckled, giving a hearty clap to the young man's shoulder that nearly made him stumble. "That's what I like to hear, Choi. Now, back to work, both of you. Those Hippogriffs aren't going to train themselves."

As Hagrid lumbered away, you leaned closer to San, grinning. "So, how much do you like me, Choi San?"

He groaned, his hands covering his face. "Can we just focus on the Hippogriffs?"

"Not a chance," you replied smugly, your laughter ringing out as his ears turned an even brighter shade of red.

The journey back to the common room was filled with quiet comfort, but as you both stepped through the entrance, his demeanour shifted instantly. Gone was the flustered boy from earlier; in his place stood the stoic and commanding Head Boy, his sharp gaze sweeping over the lounging students.

"Keep it down," he said curtly to a group of rowdy second-years, his tone leaving no room for argument. They immediately quieted, murmuring apologies.

You bit back a smile, watching his transformation with newfound amusement. After seeing the playful, gentle side of him during the lesson with Hagrid, this intimidating persona of his now seemed more endearing than imposing. It was his way of keeping the chaos in check, and you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he switched between the two sides of himself.

As you trailed behind him, snippets of hushed whispers reached your ears.

"Did they come back together?"

"Isn't that the Head Girl?"

"Are they… you know?"

You glanced at San and caught the slight gulp he tried to conceal, his stiff posture giving away his unease despite his poker face.

When you both reached the point where the dorms split, you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He stood tall, keeping his expression neutral, though you could see the faintest flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The room fell silent, the curious gazes of your housemates fixed on the two of you.

You smirked, breaking the tension. "So, Hogsmeade this weekend, right?"

His eyes widened, and a soft gasp rippled through the common room. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure as he met your gaze. "You… accept?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your amusement. "Well, you did say I could only join you earlier if I agreed to this. Seeing as we've already finished the lesson, that clearly means I've accepted, no?"

For a moment, his carefully constructed mask faltered, replaced by a grin so wide and boyish that it made your heart skip a beat. He didn't care about the whispers anymore as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to give yours a gentle squeeze.

"It's a date then, Head Girl."

You smiled back, your voice light but teasing as you replied, "Sounds good, Head Boy."

The room erupted into murmurs and low cheers as you turned and walked toward your dorm, feeling his gaze follow you until you disappeared from sight. If San had been worried about his reputation before, it was clear now that he didn't care.

Not when it came to you.

Mingi ↠ Ravenclaw

The Son of a Famous Wizard Scientist

"Going somewhere, Song?"

Mingi cursed under his breath, reluctantly pulling the invisibility cloak off his frame to face you. You sat casually in one of the Ravenclaw common room chairs, a book in hand and an amused smirk playing on your lips. He looked thoroughly defeated. "How do you always figure me out?"

You chuckled, closing your book and setting it aside as you straightened up. "It's not that hard with your lack of stealth. I feel the breeze every time you pass by. Honestly, the real mystery is how Filch hasn't caught you yet."

He crossed his arms with a huff, a pout forming on his lips. "Ugh, what's it gonna take for you to pretend you didn't see me? My dad cannot find out. Name your price."

You tapped your chin, standing to your full height and eyeing the Marauder's Map in his hands. "I want in on whatever you're up to."

His brows shot up in surprise. "You? But aren't you like... the model Ravenclaw? Goody two shoes, follows every rule, reads for fun? Why would you risk your squeaky-clean image for something like this?"

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Let's just say I'm curious about what the great wizard scientist's son is always sneaking off to do instead of, I don't know, living up to everyone's—and your father's—expectations."

He sighed in defeat, lifting his left arm to gesture for you to join him under the cloak. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Just make sure you can keep up. And for Merlin's sake, please tell me your stealth skills are better than mine. You really don't want to run into Mrs. Norris."

"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of it," you replied, ducking under the cloak with him, your heart racing at the prospect of finally joining him on one of his adventures.

And so, that night marked the beginning of an unlikely yet thrilling partnership: you and Song Mingi, partners-in-crime navigating Hogwarts past curfew.

For someone as studious and rule-abiding as you, it was a surprising twist to find yourself sneaking through hidden passageways, clutching an invisibility cloak, and dodging prefects alongside someone like Mingi. But there was something irresistibly intriguing about him—the way he effortlessly balanced his rebellious streak with a sharp intellect, and how his lighthearted demeanour contrasted with the heavy expectations placed upon him.

You see, unlike your ordinary self, his life was all about finding his own path despite the pressures of his family name. As the son of a renowned wizarding scientist, expectations for him to follow in those illustrious footsteps were high. But Mingi? He wasn't interested in being defined by anyone else's legacy.

Sure, he had the smarts for it—his insights into magical theories often surprised you, even when they were thrown in casually during one of your late-night escapades. But instead of shouldering the weight of those expectations, he found joy in simply being himself. He explored magic for the sake of curiosity, not obligation.

Of course, it was hard for someone like him to truly fly under the radar. With his tall frame and infectious laugh, he had a knack for drawing attention no matter how much he tried to avoid it. He'd always play it off with an easy grin, though—effortlessly charming his way out of trouble (well, most of the time).

And now, here you were, walking beside him in the dead of night, laughing softly at his whispered commentary about the portraits on the walls. It was a side of him most people didn't see—carefree, thoughtful, and incredibly warm.

"Alright, where to next, partner?" you asked, barely containing your grin as you reached a fork in the corridor.

He glanced at the map, his finger tracing a path. "A secret stash of sweets hidden near the kitchens. Wanna check it out?"

"Only if you're willing to share," you teased, bumping his shoulder lightly.

He smirked, holding the cloak open as you ducked beneath it again. "Deal. But only because I need you to distract the house elves if we get caught."

With that, the two of you disappeared into the night, laughter echoing softly down the empty hallways. It was the start of a friendship, and perhaps something more that, against all odds, just worked.

On one of the slower days at school, the two of you lounged in the Great Hall, a wizard's chessboard between you. The usual hum of scattered conversations and the clinking of goblets provided a quiet backdrop as Mingi hunched over the board, his tall frame bent in concentration. His eyes darted between pieces, plotting his next move with a focus that made you smirk.

"I've got an idea," you said, leaning back with a teasing grin. "Whoever loses has to take on a dare during tonight's adventure."

His head shot up, a glimmer of intrigue lighting up his eyes. He grinned, his expression a mix of mischief and admiration for the rebellious streak you seemed to save just for him. "Oh, it's on."

The match stretched out with calculated moves and sly counters, both of you pouring focus into claiming victory. But when your queen finally cornered his king, you leaned back with a triumphant grin. "Checkmate," you declared, watching the realisation dawn on his face.

He groaned theatrically, throwing his head back. "Noooo!"

You laughed, folding your arms smugly. "Now, about that dare..."

He straightened in his seat, narrowing his eyes as he tried to guess your plan. "Alright, hit me with your worst."

A mischievous gleam danced in your eyes as you leaned forward and whispered, "Tonight, when we sneak out, you have to charm Moaning Myrtle with your best pickup lines."

His jaw dropped, his ears turning an amusing shade of red. "You want me to flirt with a ghost?!"

"That's the dare," you said, grinning wider.

He blinked at you in disbelief, then let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. "You're insane. But fine—a deal's a deal."

As the two of you packed up, you noticed a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He clearly enjoyed this side of you, the playful daring you didn't often let others see.

The night was quiet as you snuck through the dark hallways, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak. The close proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your shoulders brushed, or how you could feel his breath softly against your ear as he whispered directions. You tried to focus, but the warmth radiating from him and the faint smell of his cologne made it difficult.

He wasn't faring any better. His movements felt unusually cautious, his arm brushing against yours more often than necessary, his voice a little lower than usual when he whispered, "Careful where you step."

Ironically, it was his warning that broke your concentration. Your foot landed on something uneven, and before you could stop yourself, you tripped, sending a potted plant toppling from its perch.

The crash echoed loudly through the corridor. "What was that?!" Filch's voice screeched in the distance, sending panic shooting through you both.

"Move!" Mingi hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the nearest room. The door creaked shut just as the school caretaker's hurried footsteps grew louder.

You realised, to your dismay, that the "room" was a cramped broom cupboard. The two of you were squished together in the small space, the invisibility cloak still draped awkwardly over your heads. Your breathing was ragged from the sudden sprint, and you both struggled to keep quiet as Filch's grumbling grew nearer.

"Stupid kids sneaking around… I'll catch them sooner or later," he muttered as his footsteps faded in the opposite direction.

Only when the sound of his boots disappeared entirely did you dare to speak. "We're safe now," you whispered.

"Yeah," Mingi murmured back, his voice quieter than usual.

That's when you noticed just how close you were. Your heart stuttered as you looked up, your nose grazing his. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and shallow, mingling with your own. Neither of you moved, the air between you was charged and heavy.

He swallowed hard, his hand slowly brushing against yours beneath the cloak. "I know I lost the game," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But... is it alright if I flirt with someone else tonight?"

Your breath caught, your thoughts spinning as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours.

"That depends on who it is," you whispered back, your voice shaky.

He smiled softly, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "You."

Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, your hand slid up to grip the collar of his shirt as you murmured, "Fine."

Then, closing the final distance, you pressed your lips to his. When you finally pulled away, the world felt different as you stayed close, foreheads touching. He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Best dare I've ever lost."

You smiled. "Guess I'll have to keep challenging you then, Song."

"Guess you will," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

Wooyoung ↠ Gryffindor

The Talented Quidditch Beater

"Woo, you got it! That's my boy!"

The sound of your voice rang out across the pitch, instantly catching Wooyoung's attention. A grin lit up his face as he turned mid-flight on his Nimbus 2000, his eyes sparkling as they met yours.

"I'll make you proud, babe!" he called back, his tone brimming with confidence.

"Not if you can't keep your eyes on the game," his teammate—another Beater—shouted, swooping in just in time to deflect a bludger barreling toward him.

His eyes widened at the close call before a sheepish, boyish grin spread across his face. "Thanks, mate. That was a little too close!"

He turned his attention back to you, throwing you a playful wink and blowing a kiss in your direction. "Love you," he mouthed with a quick smirk, clearly revelling in the way your worried gaze softened into a smile.

And then, just like that, he was off again, zooming across the pitch like the fearless champ he was, ready to win not just for his team, but for the person cheering him on from the stands.

Pride swelled in your chest like a warm, unrelenting tide as you watched your boyfriend play. It was almost surreal to think about how far the two of you had come—especially since there was a time when you couldn't stand him.

Back then, Jung Wooyoung was everything you couldn't tolerate: loud, attention-seeking, and constantly wreaking havoc with his pranks. He was the popular Gryffindor Quidditch star with a magnetic grin, always surrounded by friends and admirers. Meanwhile, you were his polar opposite—a shy, studious student with no interest in shenanigans, focused solely on excelling in your studies and making your parents proud.

It all started when one of his pranks nearly ruined your Transfiguration assignment. Furious, you'd confronted him in front of half the common room, calling him reckless and immature. Wooyoung, never one to back down, had retaliated with a smirk, calling you boring and stiff. That marked the beginning of your rivalry—petty remarks, pointed glares, and intentionally getting on each other's nerves became routine.

But everything changed the day he overheard a group of Slytherins mocking you. Their cruel taunts about your Muggle heritage—and the word "Mudblood" slicing through the air—left you reeling. Before you could even muster a response, he stepped in, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something sharp and unyielding.

"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. The bullies faltered under his glare, and though they tried to brush it off, he didn't let them escape unscathed. He stood firm, defending you with a conviction that left you stunned.

From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted. He made it clear that no one was to mess with you—not even his own friends, who had occasionally targeted you with harmless pranks. In return, you stopped berating him for his antics, accepting that his mischief was simply part of who he was. Over time, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, and he discovered a softer side to you that few others had ever seen.

Years passed, and that fragile truce evolved into friendship. Somewhere along the way, the friendship blossomed into something deeper, something neither of you could ignore. And now, here you were, standing in the Gryffindor stands, cheering him on with every fibre of your being.

Only after being with him did you truly understand why so many adored him for his talent. On the pitch, he was in his element. As a Beater, he thrived on adrenaline, his bat swinging with precision as he sent a bludger hurtling toward the opposing team. He was a natural showman, hyping up the crowd with daring plays and cheeky winks. Though his mischievous nature was ever-present, he became fiercely competitive during matches, his focus unshakable when it came to leading his house to victory.

You smiled as he executed a flawless manoeuvre, his laughter echoing across the pitch when the crowd erupted into cheers. He was so different from the boy you had once disliked, yet so quintessentially the same. His charm, his energy, his ability to make everyone around him feel alive—it was impossible not to love him for it.

"Watch this, babe!" he called as he rocketed past the stands, his grin wide and unrestrained. He was a whirlwind of passion and joy, and he was yours. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Aaaand Gryffindor wins!"

The roar of the crowd filled the stadium as the Gryffindor Seeker triumphantly held up the golden snitch, the tiny wings glinting under the bright sun. Cheers echoed through the stands, Gryffindor flags waving wildly in celebration. You cheered, knowing that much of this victory was thanks to your boyfriend, who had spent the game clearing the path for his teammate with skilful swings of his bat.

Amid the chaos, Wooyoung's sharp eyes immediately sought you out. Despite the throng of screaming fans and his own teammates clamouring to celebrate, all he could see was you. Without hesitation, he veered his broom in your direction, ignoring the unmistakable warning glare from Professor McGonagall.

Hovering in front of you, he flashed his signature grin, his chest rising and falling from the adrenaline of the match. Before you could say a word, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips warm and slightly chapped from the cold wind. The crowd's cheers seemed to fade as you felt his smile against your own, your cheeks heating with the realisation of how public this display was.

When you pulled away, your voice was barely above a whisper. "That's enough, Woo. You don't want detention now, do you?"

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't mind it if you were there too." With a wink, he flew off to join his team, leaving you blinking sheepishly under Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze.

You cleared your throat, attempting to smooth down your robes as you mumbled, "Sorry, Professor."

To your surprise, her expression softened, and she gestured for you to walk with her as the stands began to empty. "Don't be," she said, her voice measured but kind. "You're a good motivator for him. We appreciate it. I won't lie and say our victories haven't increased since you came into the picture."

Her words left you blushing furiously as you followed her down the steps. Did that mean even she shipped you and Wooyoung? The very thought had you hiding a bashful smile behind your scarf, the cheers of the Gryffindor team still ringing in your ears.

Jongho ↠ Slytherin

The Scary Prefect Who Commands Respect

"There he is! Shhh, keep it down!"

Your friends scrambled to settle into their seats, hastily lowering their voices and pretending to focus on the books in front of them. You followed their lead, keeping your head down as the most intimidating prefect of Slytherin entered the library. Choi Jongho's very name was enough to make most students sit up straight, and his imposing presence only amplified that effect. His silence carried more weight than words ever could, commanding obedience and respect effortlessly.

You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the text in front of you, but your focus wavered the moment his footsteps stopped—right beside you. Your heart raced as you eyed his polished shoes, unsure if you'd done something wrong. Too nervous to meet his gaze, you froze in place, waiting for whatever came next.

"Here. I think you dropped this," he said, his voice low yet unexpectedly warm.

Your eyes widened at the gentle tone, and you glanced up to see him holding out your late father's pocket watch. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—so fleeting you wondered if you'd imagined it.

"O-oh, thank you," you stammered, taking the cherished item from him. A spark shot through you when your fingers brushed against his, leaving your heart fluttering in a way you hadn't anticipated.

"You're welcome," he replied simply, his voice kind yet measured, before continuing on his patrol.

As you watched him walk away, a realisation settled in your mind—perhaps he wasn't as fearsome as everyone claimed.

Jongho's reputation was well-earned. As a Slytherin prefect, he didn't need to raise his voice to maintain order. A single stern look was enough to make any student think twice about misbehaving, and his word was as final as it was rare. Yet, those who truly knew him understood there was more to him than his intimidating exterior. Beneath the cool, composed demeanour was a steadfast friend with a laugh that could shatter his usual seriousness in an instant.

And soon, you would become one of the few to witness that softer side of him—though, for now, you had no idea what lay ahead.

It was on a particularly eerie evening that you would come to learn the truth. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as you wandered along the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, seeking solitude to clear your mind after a gruelling week. The low-hanging clouds cloaked the forest in shadows, and the quiet seemed almost too oppressive.

But peace was the last thing you found.

A low, menacing growl rippled through the trees, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath caught as you turned, your wand trembling in your hand, to face a pair of glowing eyes cutting through the darkness.

A werewolf.

Your heart pounded wildly as the creature advanced, its snarling lips curling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Panic seized you. You tried to cast a spell, but fear made your movements clumsy, and the incantation faltered on your tongue. The werewolf snarled again, its deadly intent unmistakable.

You were sure you were doomed.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the tense silence, startling both you and the beast. From the shadows emerged a massive bear, its fur bristling and eyes blazing with an otherworldly fury. The bear wasted no time, charging at the werewolf with raw power and unmatched ferocity.

Their clash was brutal and swift, the werewolf no match for the bear's strength and determination. Before long, the defeated creature limped off into the safety of the forest, leaving you frozen in place, trembling from head to toe.

The bear turned its attention to you, its intelligent gaze locking onto yours. Despite your fear, there was something strangely familiar in the way it looked at you—almost protective.

And then, to your utter disbelief, the bear began to shift. Its enormous form shrank, fur receding as its features morphed into something distinctly human. In a matter of moments, you found yourself staring at Choi Jongho, his sharp eyes unwavering as they met yours.

"You…" The word barely escaped your lips, your voice a mere whisper. "You're an animagus?"

His jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. "Yes," he admitted, his tone steady but quiet.

You blinked, your mind racing to process what you had just witnessed. It wasn't just the transformation that left you reeling—it was the way he had risked himself to save you. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" you finally managed.

He let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, you saw the stoic facade crack, revealing something raw beneath. "People already think I'm intimidating enough," he said, his voice laced with vulnerability. "If they knew I could turn into a bear, they'd see me as a monster. Even if I chose this form to protect, not harm."

Your chest tightened at his words, at the loneliness he must have carried. His stern demeanour suddenly made sense—it was a shield, a way to keep others from seeing the parts of himself he feared they wouldn't understand.

"But it's not a bad thing," you said softly, taking a step closer. "You became an animagus for a noble reason. That says more about who you are than anything else."

His gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing just slightly. "I appreciate that," he murmured. "But not everyone would see it the same way. People fear what they don't understand."

For the first time, you saw through the intimidating exterior everyone else feared. Beneath it all, he was just someone who cared deeply, someone who bore the weight of his secrets quietly for the sake of those around him.

"Thank you for saving me," you said earnestly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Your secret's safe with me. I promise."

He nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone warm yet reserved. "Now, you should get back. It's not safe out here."

"And you?"

"I'll make sure the forest is clear," he assured you, his protective instincts shining through. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

As you made your way back to the castle, your mind was consumed with thoughts of Jongho. The boy who had just saved your life was so much more than the fearsome prefect everyone believed him to be. And now, you carried a piece of his truth, a secret that revealed a depth to him you never would have imagined.

From then on, something shifted.

You became one of the few who dared to hold his gaze, the rare recipient of his fleeting smiles. Where others saw the intimidating Slytherin prefect, you saw the quiet strength and vulnerability he kept hidden beneath the surface. And nothing shocked people more than seeing him sit next to you at breakfast in the Great Hall.

Whispers rippled through the tables, curious and incredulous alike. Choi Jongho, the stoic and fearsome prefect, sitting with someone? A girl? The novelty was enough to turn heads, but what truly caught people's attention was the way he looked at you.

There was something unmistakable in his eyes—a quiet affection, soft and unguarded, as if your presence unravelled the walls he so carefully maintained.

He glanced over at you as you finished your meal, his expression relaxed yet tinged with curiosity. "Where are you headed after this?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.

You wiped your hands with a napkin, smiling up at him. "The Duelling Club."

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "The Duelling Club? But why?"

You bit back a laugh at his incredulity, placing your fork down with an amused shake of your head. "Because someone with a very admirable trait has inspired me," you said, your voice warm with sincerity. "To be stronger, to protect those around me too."

The words caught him off guard, and you watched as his usual composure faltered. He blinked, a faint flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. The sight was endearing, a rare glimpse of boyishness in the otherwise composed prefect.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip as if it might steady him. Setting it down, he muttered softly, "You don't have to." His eyes flickered to yours, vulnerable but earnest. "You'll always have me."

Your chest warmed at his words, his quiet promise resonating deeply. He might have been the boy feared by many, but to you, he was simply someone who cared more deeply than he let on.

You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "I know," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "But it doesn't hurt to know how to hold my own, does it?"

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips curving upward in a rare but genuine smile. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before turning back to his plate. "But I'm coming with."

Any fellow Potterheads here? Humour this poor author and tell me about your Hogwarts house, your favourite Harry Potter book/movie as well as your favourite character! Most importantly, let me know if you agree with the houses I've sorted the members into!

Hope you enjoyed this! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[crimsoncandy04]

OH MY GOD YOU WRITE SO FUCKING GREAT!!!! Can I ask for a mouse/hamster hybrid reader and Kitty/Scaramouche. He's trying to catch us and eat us 😏 👅

Can I stick to canon a little? I might not be very imaginative so I usually work with lore and stuff to make my ideas flow a little easier for me.

And I think I know how to do this.

It was no secret that the harbinger known as The Doctor often tampered with human DNA in order to succeed in certain projects regarding his segments. However as one of his subordinates, you became increasingly concerned when he started involving animal DNA too.

And terrified when he picked YOU out of everyone else to undergo a sort of surgical transformation to see if weaker humans could be physically "improved" with animal genetics.

You went to sleep on the operating table, a woman.

You woke up in a similar body, however your eyes widened in shock as you noticed the rounded ears and long tail you had. You were in a small box sized room full of reflective walls. And in them you could see that you were now in fact a mouse and human hybrid.

You tried to yell but only squeaked.

However the experiment was far from over.

One of the tall reflective walls suddenly retracted into the ground. Revealing a long dark corridor made entirely of stone. The narrow walls Rose high into the shadows and as you stepped out the the tiny place you had woke up in, the opening slammed shut behind you too. Leaving you in the darkness of the weird maze/labyrinth all alone.

Or so you thought.

Suddenly a sharp tone cut through the cool air.

"Oh so you DID survive. Congratulations I suppose. But don't think this makes you any more of a useless pawn dear."

A figure leapt down from the top of one of the higher walls behind you.

His indigo eyes glowed. Marked by beautiful long lashes and striking red eyeliner. He looked so...catty and you'd definitely be right about that.

The young man's big fluffy tail suddenly began to swish behind him as he stalked closer to you slowly.

"now don't move, mouse. This is only going to be uncomfortable if you make it that way." His big fluffy ears twitched a little with excitement as he suddenly tried to reach out and grab you.

However you were faster than you remembered now.

And you ran.

Sprinting through the dim maze of nothing but more long stretches of hallways and sharp turns, you could hear the man in pursuit of you.

Every time you thought you put some distance between you both, you'd see a flash or indigo hair out of the corner of your eye and force yourself to keep going as he seemed to be able to scale walls and leap from high places just like a cat effortlessly could.

Finally you felt fear overwhelm you. And you panicked.

And you tripped.

Hands descended upon your shivering body before you could even muster up a scream. Lips silencing you as the man gently rolled you over onto your back and pinned you beneath him.

"you're fast my little mouse. But not faster than me~" he mumbled in a strangely seductive tone as he moved his lips down your body and stopped just above your pubic mound.

"please don't hurt me!" You wail. Your body shaking as you watched a devious grin appear on his rather lovely face.

"keep begging, mouse. You look even more delectable when you do~" you noticed something strange about his hands then as he ripped your panties off. His fingers resembled those of a doll. He wasn't human or cat...

Was this the sixth harbinger that was rumored to occasionally help out The Doctor?

You didn't have time to ponder this as you feel him dig his nails into your knees and force your legs apart as he leaned in closer to your sex and gave your clit a small kiss before roughly shoving his long tongue deep into your aching cunt.

"ah~ please stop! Please this feels so...good~" your body continued to shiver but not out of fear as you felt him moan and purr against your pussy. You felt a tiny squeak leave your lips then. Making his eyes take on a predatory gleam as he pulled you against his face even more and began to alternate between lapping at your heat and teasing your clit with his sharp teeth and cool tongue.

He kept you on edge for the longest time. Seemingly enjoying your taste as you felt his purring get louder while you rocked your hips a little and felt your lower body tighten.

"don't fight it. Just let go little mouse ~" he hummed. You felt so good at that moment that all sense of shame seemed to have been lost as your body erupted and you squirt into the eager mouth of the man before you. He greedily slurps up every last drop and hungrily swallows your lewd juices as you lay panting and completely drained before him.

You struggle to sit up as you feel him pull away finally. Only to see him give you another sadistic and horny grin as he looks you directly in the eyes and starts counting.

You immediately feel nervous again.

Quickly getting to your feet and running away as he neared the final number.

You didn't know how long he planned to draw this out or why he was so hungry for you like this, but one thing was for certain. He would continue to hunt you.

And you would be devoured.

[imaginespazzi]

First game of the season down (guys it's literally March Madness already) and as per usual I have thoughts for the three people who actually read my long ramblings tee hee :)

SARAH. STRONG.

JANA. EL. ALFY.

That's it those are my thoughts. MY POST DUO IS GONNA LEAD US TO THE FUCKING NATTY YOU GUYS.

But to expand a little more, I thought I was impressed by Sarah at the exhibition but oh my god I'm something more than impressed tonight. She just doesn't look like a freshman. Beyond just being naturally good at the sport, she's just so insanely smart, and watching her play is just beautiful.

My Egyptian queen, the 8th wonder of the world. A DOUBLE-DOUBLE OFF THE BENCH. And guess what, she's only gonna get better. Listen it's an exhibition and no one matched her size and so it'll be interesting to see what she does against real competition but like I always say hustle translate and Jana has plenty of it.

Paige Bueckers statsheet stuffer extraordinaire strikes again. As per usual she did a little bit of everything to lead this team to success. If I have to deal with the Passive P narrative every time (especially because it's an inherently flawed narrative that one day I will do a proper rant on) she doesn't score 40, I might lose my mind. And honestly expecting her to tire herself out with that aggression in games like this is simply not worth it.

Kaitlyn and Ashlynn both did what they were supposed to do. Again, the competition was mediocre and they played like good players on the better team. I do think Kaitlyn should have more than 3 shots in a game but again this game isn't a great indicator. Ash disappeared a little in the 2nd half but again not a great indicator and I really liked the 3 steals so hopefully that is an indication of steady growth on defense.

KK BLOCK!!! We love to see it. She looked really aggressive out there and I think she's going to be a really good spark off the bench for us.

Ice played okay but it's a really simple math thing here. 17 and 11 vs 4 and 2 like it's really just common sense. She also makes some really questionable decisions sometimes and the finishing wasn't great. Experience is a good thing but the numbers are what they are and I think it's pretty self-explanatory who should be starting.

Morgan and Allie are shooters and I love to see it. Girlies did what they were supposed to do and hopefully they get substantial minutes against real competition as well.

My more general thought about the game is that it was basically a tale of two halves. First half UConn was great and that team is a very complete team who has a very high ceiling. Second half UConn, but more specifically that third quarter UConn, well that was the same team we saw in the exhibition. Again, this is a new team and it will take time put a perfect 40 minutes together. But scoring droughts like that should not be happening against a team like BU and they absolutely cannot happen against better competition.

ALSO LAYUPS UCONN PLEASE

Azzi and Aubrey both participated in warmups and it's like sunshine and rainbows in my mind :)

[butch-chastity]

tell me about ur fiction podcast!!

:) ok yeah podcast

elevator pitch straight from my outline:

edit 12/6/22: this wasn't supposed to take a long time to write, but i couldn't figure out an accurate way to describe what is going on in short-form. I have an outline already, but an online doesn't work well in a tumblr post, so i wasn't quite sure what to say. I think I have it down now, though. enjoy.

ok. so I am going to talk about this, and you're going to see that there is a large amount of characters listed. I want you to look in my eyes now. i know there are a lot of characters. you're not allowed to tell me, "hey luke that's a lot of characters" because i KNOW it's a lot of characters. it's an anthology (kind of), there's supposed to be a lot of characters. very few of them matter. in the grand scheme of things, you're only seeing slide 1 out of 5. ok? don't even worry about it.

ok. this podcast is kind of an anthology. most of the characters are introduced by a series of stories in the beginning, which makes up the bulk of the "true crime" cases covered on the podcast-within-a-podcast.

HOWEVER, because the stories are related to one another, it's not technically an anthology. it doesn't really matter, but i'm calling it an anthology anyway.

the beginning of the podcast is mostly concerned with establishing tone, characters, world, and so on, so it's a little difficult to explain. however, the main plot is split into three storylines that kind of chase each other around.

the first storyline is what it says on the tin. two true crime podcasters talk about the underground world of vigilante superheroes. this is where the actual anthology happens, and is the vehicle for the main story. even as things get weird and kind of complicated, this storyline specifically ties it all together. the podcast is hosted by two women, hannah and cameron. hannah was a journalism student, but dropped out of college. it's implied several times that the podcast was her idea. cameron is a freelance writer and programmer. cameron suffers from paranoia, and takes extreme measures to obscure the identities of the hosts and any guests or interviewees they have on the podcast. her paranoia usually creates a lot of tension between her and hannah, especially as time goes on. the podcast establishes three things about the world of the story: 1) this podcast is focused mostly on just one city (which i have yet to name, rip). 2) vigilantes with superpowers exist, but this city only has a few heroes with said supernatural abilities, making it less interesting to the media. 3) because they aren't well known or media-significant and are loyal to only one city, these vigilantes go missing or die all the fucking time. bad for them, good for those of us hosting a true crime podcast. most of the characters are introduced via the cases hannah and cameron talk about on this podcast. additionally, it becomes clear somewhat early on that this podcast in-universe has a number of hardcore fans, who request that h&c discuss cases and local vigilantes on a regular basis.

the second storyline follows a pathologist named Rose. she's recently developed carpal tunnel and is currently unable to take notes while doing autopsies, meaning that she now has to take audio notes for her assistant Jessica to transcribe later (yes, ghost of christmas plot contrivance, i'm aware). to cut all the bullshit: it becomes clear very quickly that Rose is a vigilante, and that she fucking hates her day job. she's trying to work her way up from pathologist to city coroner, so that she's able to more easily access data on missing persons and have custody of sensitive information concerning her friends & coworkers on the vigilante side of things. she's also highly motivated to find information on her parents, who were arguably the city's first vigilantes from way back in the day, and were also the first set of vigilantes to go missing. occasionally, Rose as the narrator is replaced temporarily by her assistant, Jessica, and Jessica is occasionally replaced by Rose's daughter, Valerie. rose's goals and view of the world is the most direct voice of opposition against the narratives hannah and cameron discuss in their podcast. she regularly contradicts what they say or theorize. i want to emphasize that even though i'm not a true crime fan and this fiction podcast is pretty critical of tc podcasts in general, h&c and rose are not true opposites and aren't bad vs. good reflections of one another. if anything, this podcast is more focused on asking stuff like, "is telling a complete, whole story possible? even with you have 'both sides' telling their POV?" and also places an emphasis on what ISN'T said, which is best emphasized by storyline 3.

storyline 3 tends to be the most confusing. for clarification: Rose's storyline starts a little late compared to the main podcast, but still appears, at latest, only about 1/4 of the way through the story. storyline 3 however, appears a while after the halfway mark. for further context, the podcast can bisected into before and after the murder of a vigilante jane doe*. this vigilante (codename: myrmidon) goes missing and dies immediately after appearing on hannah and cameron's podcast, which brings a lot of attention on hannah and cameron and changes the structure of the podcast permanently. it's at this point that jessica (rose's assistant) takes over rose's role as the audio-notes narrator, and also is the point at which the podcast becomes more abstract. cameron's paranoia gets the better of her, and the attention kind of goes to hannah's head (it's more nuanced than that, but that's essentially what happens). while jessica is taking over and hannah & cameron are kind of losing it, storyline 3 is introduced. we begin to hear more audio-notes, similar to Rose's notes from before, but this time from the city coroner named virginia volkov. however, NONE of the details virginia is recounting are even remotely similar to what both rose and h&c have given to us so far. additionally, she has a weird way of discussing the cases she's investigating; it's like virginia lives in a 1930s/40s noir detective thriller. and most interestingly: the jane doe that was murdered after appearing on hannah and cameron's show? wherever virginia is broadcasting from, jane doe is there too, and is apparently helping her investigate the cases she has on her roster. this is really all I want to say about storyline 3,, it's weird to explain and doesn't make sense without the full context of the story. sooooo <3 *there's a lot to say about vigilante jane doe. you'll see in the relationship web below that she really affects everyone. her real name does appear within the story, and she is a really important part of it, but she's more of a metaphor than a character.

i put a lot of my early ideas on a powerpoint. i've cleaned them up, and here's some of my favorite slides:

thank you for your interest ella, i love you so much.

[tiny-space-platypus]

Everyone sees Danny looks like Tim but I raise you Adult buff as shit, tall as shit, Fenton genetics™, Danny looks like Jason even down to the white tuffs which lead to the most horrified reactions from the Bat family to find a very smiley very well rounded and absolutely no violence Jason just about.

Like,

Dick out and about doing normal daily life shit suddenly sees his brother baby brother 𝘴𝘮����𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺. Not dressed how he normally scrolling on his phone. There's a part of Dick that wanted to run up and tackle his brother into a hug because OH DEAR LORD HIS SWEET BABY IS SMILING. He hasn't seen him so happy in so long. Dick snaps a photo and moves on.

Tim heads to his normal coffee before heading into the office. He picks up the coffee (he technically isn't supposed to have) only to stop dead where he is when he sees Jason not only outside of Crime Alley, not only drinking coffee, but tinkering with a little device 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙘. Tim walks over to and sits down in the seat across from Jason. Work can fucking wait, what in God's name is his brother doing in his coffee shop tinkering like a mad man. Tim kicked him pretty hard under the table causing the man to jump and look at Tim which was a weird as fuck reaction for Jason. Till was about to say something when the other man spoke first. "Can I help you?" That- That wasn't Jason's voice. Tim looked at the man in front of him surprised as he looked at the scars on the muscular fake brother. Time then stammered as he took in this man's scars which he had plenty of but taking a closer look they weren't Jason's either. "I- um sorry. I thought you were my brother-" The man just laughed warmly and smiled which was so unnerving from a face that looked almost identical to his brothers. "It's fine man, don't worry about it" Tim put a tracker on him just in case.

That night in the group chat.

Dick: (sends photo of Jason smiling) HE'S SMILING :DDDD

Tim: Is the world ending????

Bruce: (saving the photo of his smiling son)

Jason: THAT'S NOT FUCKING ME. I was in Crime Alley all day but that's creepy.

Babs: Can confirm Jay was in the alley all day.

Bruce: (sad dad deleting photo of fake son)

Part 2

[davdcorenswet]

🌪️ whirlwind.

scott miller x reader Synopsis: the bar has always been a safe haven after a long week of storm-chasing, but when tyler owens decides you’re his lucky charm for the night, you find that scott’s control has its limits. Word Count: 6.4k (pls don't look at me) Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, mentions of near-death experiences, tornadoes (obviously), brief insinuations to cheating, tyler is a pot-stirrer, public sex, dry humping, fingering (f!receiving), degradation, nipple play (f!receiving), orgasm delay, biting?, scott miller has a whore mouth, minor choking, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), lots of dirty talk, no use of y/n A/N: my first time posting fic & writing for scott so pls go easy on me 🥺 sometimes you just have to let a smug little asshole take over ur entire life, am i right? if you enjoyed, pls feel free to reblog or give it a like and as always, my inbox is open if you want to chat!!! 🤍

It’s been a grueling week, one tornado after another hammering Oklahoma into a state of disarray.

You’re still shaken from the last one, the anxiety of being alone in a motel with your thoughts almost unbearable. You’ve tried to avoid being alone since then, afraid that something worse is always on the horizon, and the thought of being isolated in a room while the rest of the team is out doesn’t sit well.

The bar, though, is a familiar sanctuary. A small comfort amidst the chaos. Even though you’re drained and the idea of socializing feels monumental, tradition is tradition. Javi’s sad puppy eyes and the inevitable guilt trip on the drive back to HQ tomorrow is enough to push you out of bed and into the shower.

And, as much as you don’t want to go, it feels wrong when even Scott makes an effort to go.

By the time you step into the dimly lit bar, clinking glasses and the hum of chatter soothe your worries quickly away. Whirlwind may have seen more than its fair share of fights and other throes of debauchery, but it was a frequent, favorite stop.

And it’s already packed. Between the locals and the other storm-chasers crowding the space, you can’t find Storm Par anywhere. A roar of laughter strikes from the pool tables, and you quickly pocket your phone, realizing you’ll have no luck calling or texting when it won’t even be heard over the noise.

Oh, well. You’ll find them soon enough. Making your way to the bar to greet Jack, the burly bartender who’s been running the place for years and has grown more familiar to you the more you frequent, you hear — rather than see — one of the storm-chasers you were hoping to avoid tonight.

Tyler. God damn. Owens.

You weren’t struck by his Southern charm — your days of easy flattery were past you — but he was hard to ignore. Then again, you should’ve known better by now. Tyler always seemed to be at his best when he had a crowd buzzing around him.

“I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, and then you walked in,” he drawls, finding a space alongside you as he sets his empty beer bottle down, his voice smooth. “Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?”

You consider turning him down, not sure if you’re up for his ego tonight, but you also know Tyler. He wasn't swayed easily, especially if he saw a challenge. Besides, a free drink was well, free, and as grating as he could get, you supposed one couldn't hurt. So you nod. “Sure, why not.”

Jack, who’d wordlessly gotten your drink as Tyler approached, sets a bottle of your favorite down in front of you, his brow raising to get your attention. You hesitate before taking it and catch his gaze shift slightly past you.

Before you get a chance to follow, Tyler steals your focus with a grin, the ever-present pain in your ass. You can’t fight your instincts to be polite. “So tell me. What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”

You meet his gaze, all swirling hues and open attraction. Maybe if you were that kind of girl, his smooth, clichéd lines would work on you. But you weren’t that girl. You preferred sensible. Practical. Safe. It was why you’d joined Storm Par in the first place, rather than one of the many other crews. This tornado wrangler just wasn’t for you.

Unfortunately for Tyler, he always seemed to miss that memo.

“Same as everyone else, I guess.” You laugh half-heartedly. Maybe if the conversation is light enough, you can slip away without it turning into a spectacle. “Just looking to unwind.”

If Tyler notices your lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he makes a show of settling into his spot next to you, grin stretching wide. The beer in his hands is fresh and cold, same as yours, though unlike yourself he’s already taken a few drinks while you start to pick at the label. Javi would've poked fun by now, but your friend is nowhere near. Typical.

Tyler takes another drink, resting his arm on the bar, your eyes drifting to his tanned bicep. His grin stretches when he catches you looking, and you try not to scowl at falling for his display.

He continues with a well-used, “Well, you sure do brighten up the place.”

Thank god. Playing along, you don’t waste a second as your gaze wanders eagerly around the bar. From your new position you spot a cluster of tables on the other side of the room, Storm Par filling out the seats.

Scott sits alone at one of them, as he always did, but his posture is rigid, and even from a distance you can tell his focus is far from the game of darts Javi tries to include him in. Unsurprising. But rather than being distracted by his phone, worrying about the next job the team would have to take, his eyes are locked in on you.

The intensity makes you shiver. A few bottles sit empty next to him, and you only know they’re his by the unmistakable Guinness label adorning the side. A half-empty glass rests in his hand like he’d meant to take a sip before catching sight of Tyler.

Since joining Storm Par, the number of things you knew about Scott could be counted on your fingers. And in that time, you’d never seen him unwind. Not truly, anyway. As frustrating as it could be, you'd come to respect Scott's unwavering demeanor.

Amidst the chaos, no matter how intense it got, Scott was the stoic anchor of the team. There was a reason for his lectures and regulations. He was as dependable as the code he lived by, but most of the team often dismissed it as rigid and unnecessary. You knew it took strength and reliability to remain true to your values.

Much like you were forgoing now, your polite smile tight on your lips.

Beyond Javi, the rest of the team is scattered around Whirlwind, some dancing with reckless abandon on the makeshift dance floor while others clink shots over a job well done with the other storm-chasing crews. Scott is still firmly planted on the barstool, setting his glass down with a white-knuckled grip.

Tyler, of course, pays no attention. He leans in, casually inching closer to you, wrapping up some story of an exaggerated Wrangler exploit. Close enough to brush against you. When you glance down at the contact, Tyler notices where you’ve grown distracted, that easygoing grin slipping as he takes in your view.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tyler says with a sigh, head shaking in disbelief. “Just admit it — I’m a hell of a lot more fun than Storm Cloud over there.”

You disagree, but keep it to yourself. Tyler and his crew were reckless, and, sure, while there was some level of risk that came with what you all did, there was a clear difference between you and them. 

It was part of what had drawn you to Scott in the first place. He was meticulous and no-nonsense, quick to call out mistakes whether you were out in the field or back in the office. But even Scott wasn't immune to a lecture or two — something he'd gone to great lengths to keep under lock and key.

And you only knew by accident.

Another sleepless night had driven you out of your room in search of coffee, leading you to a diner where you’d stumbled across him and Riggs in a heated discussion. Your Mama had taught you manners about eavesdropping, but you were frozen in place, listening to Riggs furiously drill into Scott over another fuck up (not his fault) and whether he was serious or not about the work they were doing. Before you could slip away unnoticed, not wanting to be lectured too, Scott’s eyes met yours, giving you a small, subtle shake of his head.

You’d run straight back to your room after, hoping that maybe it'd been a weird nightmare and you’d wake up to business as usual. But after another hour of tossing and turning, Scott’s familiar knock sounded at your door, and when you’d gathered the courage to meet him face to face, he’d looked just as conflicted as you felt. After what you’d heard, the way Scott took responsibility for every mistake and didn't throw anyone under the bus, keeping it between you two was the least you could do.

Something changed after that night. When a particularly nasty tornado touched ground a few weeks later and nearly swept you up in it, nobody questioned Scott’s decision to reassign you to Scarecrow. Nobody questioned why your partner had quit shortly after, either.

Scott still hadn’t asked why you’d been awake that night, just the same as you didn’t ask about Riggs.

You glance over at Scott again now, the memory fresh in your mind. His knuckles are just as white as when you’d found him in the diner, expression still shadowed, like he’s torn between intervening and letting it play out. But even with a crowd between you and the two men, the tension is thick, crackling in the air.

Tyler leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as glances over at Scott. “He’s got that brooding thing down to an art, doesn’t he? Don’t you ever crave a little spontaneity?”

You shift away from Tyler, the weight of Scott’s gaze growing heavy. From the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the hard set to his jaw, no longer working the cinnamon gum he obsessively kept on him. You manage a tight smile, distracted, as Javi’s voice rises briefly above the noise — your attention divided between the brewing storm on the other end of the bar and the eye of the one you were currently stuck in.

“I… I think we all have our reasons for sticking around.” You say, just as Javi finally notices you, his smile dimming as his gaze slides to Tyler.

Shit.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Tyler’s drawl is playful, almost teasing, and if he sees that you’re not even looking at him anymore, he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m just saying. If you ever want to get away from Clipboard over there...”

This time you do look with a flash of agitation. “If I wanted that, I’d be part of your team, Tyler. Not his.”

“Now, hold on, just hear me out for a second.” Tyler takes another pull from his drink, but when he sets it back down, he’s too close yet again. Fingers brush unwarranted against you, his touch lingering in a way that immediately makes your skin crawl. “How about we make a deal? Let me show you a good time tonight, and I promise you won’t even remember his name by the end of it.”

The suggestion hangs heavy in the air. You're only just barely aware of the way your features shift as background noise fades and you’re left with a high-pitched ringing in your ears, each emotion rolling through you longer to process than the last. By the time disgust sets in, flinching away from his wandering hands, you see past the red just enough to catch his grin widening in amusement.

And you realize, with terrifying clarity, that he’s been toying with you the whole night, just to start something with your team. You try not to tremble, swallowing your rage, and remind yourself that you'll be kicked out if dump your drink on him.

A stool scrapes loudly from the other side of the room. Whatever semblance of peace snaps.

“Uh oh.” Tyler notices Scott’s approach, and has the audacity to flash you a smile. “Looks like we’ve got company. He sure knows how to kill a mood, doesn’t he?”

You don't have a chance to respond, Scott stopping beside you, barely restrained anger coming off him in waves. You instinctively step closer to him, your drink forgotten and unwanted on the bar. His eyes flash with anger as he regards Tyler, that muscle working overtime in his jaw — and you know he's seen everything, from Tyler whispering into your ear to the look of repulse that you'd tried to hide.

“We need to talk.” Scott’s gaze shifts to you. You recognize the silent message he sends, the urgency in his voice as he fights to control his composure for your sake. “Now.”

“Ouch, Scotty. Not even a hello? And here I thought manners came with that fancy degree.” Tyler whistles low, appraising Scott like he’s not seconds away from getting his nose broken. “I was just getting acquainted with your friend over here. Giving her the whole Wrangler pitch. You know how it goes.” His smirk growing, he takes your silence as a cue to continue. “Come to think of it, wasn’t that how Gabby left? Told me she was over all the huffin' and puffin', especially after—”

“Enough.” Scott's interjection is loud and clear, your heart stuttering at the icy tone. When he slides an arm around your waist, the weight unfamiliar, you can’t tell if it’s to keep you from lunging at Tyler, or himself. You glance between Tyler's satisfied grin and the glare Scott sends him, confused. Who was Gabby? “Shut the fuck up for once, Owens. Seriously. Do us all a fucking favor.”

You still swim with questions as Scott pulls you close, no longer waiting for Tyler’s approval or response — not that he needed it in the first place. Lights cast long shadows as he navigates you between tables, the ringing in your ears lessening the further away from Tyler you get. Scott ushers you out the nearest exit, his palm warm against the small of your back.

The back door slams shut with a final click as you spill out into the alley together. It’s as dimly lit as the inside is, a singular dying bulb flickering just a few steps away. The sounds of the bar are muffled here now that your hearing has returned to normal, leaving only the distant hum of traffic and your ragged breathing.

The chilled air immediately hits you as Scott pulls away, and you watch, lost, as he paces angrily while you try to sort your thoughts out.

“What the hell was that? I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight.” Scott’s voice is sharp, cutting through the night like a knife. He turns to face you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his scowl reflecting the look he gets when he's about to unleash on someone. “You said you needed space, time to clear your head… So why are you here? With him?”

“I know. Plans change,” you reply, caught off-guard, hoping to sound casual even as you hook your finger nervously under the strap of your dress. You’ve never seen Scott this worked up before, and it’s unsettling.

“Plans change?” Scott scoffs, his voice rising with every word. “That’s your excuse? You say one thing, and then do the complete opposite? What was your plan, then? To drink with Tyler and maybe let him drive you home? Was that the idea?”

You’re taken aback by the sharpness of his words. “It was just a drink, Scott. I needed to get out and clear my head.”

“Just a drink?” Scott’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his frustration barely contained. “Do you really think I’m that naive? Tyler doesn’t just do ‘just a drink.’ He’s always looking for something more. And you—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “He makes a mess of everything he touches. You know what he’s like. Hell, you’re smart enough to see through his bullshit. So why are you letting him get close to you?”

“Scott, it’s not like that,” you protest, your voice wavering slightly under his scrutiny. “I needed to get out. It had nothing to do with him.”

“And you couldn’t find another way to clear your head? Without him? Without the guy who’s known for causing chaos?” His voice is thick with emotion, the carefully controlled mask he usually wears slipping away to reveal the raw frustration and fear beneath. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? I’ve been through this before, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you make the same mistakes.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, confused and angry.

“I’m saying I think you’re using Tyler as a distraction,” Scott says, his voice sharp, “A way to escape from everything you’ve been dealing with.”

Frustration prickles at his words, and even though you try not to, it’s hard to keep the edge from your voice. “Escape? That’s not— I’m not running away from anything.”

“We’ve had a rough week. I know it’s been hard on you,” Scott says, his tone softening slightly, though he still looks on edge. His jaw ticks again, and your gaze immediately darts to the pack of gum you know he keeps in his right back pocket. “But if you’re letting someone like Tyler pull you away from what really matters, it’ll only make things worse. I’ve seen too many people get hurt by him.”

Your anger flares at his scolding, hating that you found yourself in one storm, only to be led willingly into the next. “And what, Scott? You think you know me so well that you can just decide what’s best for me?”

“No, I’m just—” Scott shakes his head, taking a step toward you, then rethinking it. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” You try to suppress a laugh, but it comes out bitter. “Safe doesn’t really exist in our line of work, and you know that.”

Scott’s eyes flash with a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite place. He takes a deep breath, struggling to steady himself. “You think I don’t know that? When things go wrong, I need to know that I can count on the people around me to handle their shit.”

You raise an eyebrow, uncertain where this is going. “And what exactly does that have to do with Tyler or me?”

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his tone almost pleading. “When you’re involved, everything gets complicated. I can’t think straight when you’re involved. I can’t focus. Hell, I can’t even sleep at night.”

Scott runs a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping tightly as if trying to ground himself. “That tornado— When the equipment malfunctioned because Dale failed to follow the calibration protocols I specifically fucking outlined— I was frozen, just paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I knew we couldn’t make it to you in time.”

You still, remembering how quickly Scott had cornered Dale when you got back. You’d thought it was because of the readings and the instructions he’d ignored that had nearly cost you both your lives.

Scott’s breath hitches as he continues. “It would’ve been my fault. My responsibility. My orders. I was convinced I’d lost you. And I thought if I could just keep you safe, try to control the chaos, that it might make things better. But seeing you with Tyler tonight... It’s like I’m back in that moment, feeling helpless, and I—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Look, I’m not going through that again. I can’t.”

His voice cracks, and you see the depth of his internal struggle. “I’m just… trying to protect you,” he admits quietly, “but I don’t know if you even see it that way.”

His words weigh heavy, the shock of it ripping right through you. Scott Miller didn't go out of his way to be kind.

You're pulled back through the last few months: the coffee, just the way you liked it, that Scott always had waiting for you after a chase; his lack of scorn when you fell asleep on him in the van the next morning, when exhaustion wins and his silence becomes safety; the lingering, unasked question on his lips every time you were tasked to go out onto the field again and you agreed, over and over, despite the very real fear of the very thing you chased.

For a moment, everything else fades away — Tyler, the bar, the noise.

“Scott.” Your voice breaks through the quiet in a whisper, drawing close to him. Your hands glide gently along the black fabric of his shirt, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. “I’m here,” you say, your voice steady but soft. “I’m with you.”

For a moment, that vulnerability continues to swim in his eyes. And then he steps closer, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. You think, for a split second of panic, that he means to push you away and close himself off the way he usually does; instead, his thumbs rub tenderly at your palms, the action so gentle and unlike him that it makes your breath stall.

Instinctively your gaze meets his, forgetting (as you often did) just how big he actually was. Tall, broad, and deliciously toned; when you thought of Scott, you thought of him behind a desk, not running laps around his neighborhood and clocking in hours at the gym. Your uniforms did an amazing job of hiding his physique, but it’s impossible to ignore now. His black undershirt clings to him like a second skin and reveals the hard, taut muscles of his body, further evidence of the control he wielded so effortlessly.

His eyes search yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. You’ve never seen him so open before, and as his hands smooth down your arms to the curve of your waist, there’s a sense of urgency in his touch that he doesn’t vocalize.

Fear. Longing. Desire. His jaw sets again as his gaze drops to your mouth, and you think, for one terrifying moment, that he won’t do it. Would he regain his composure, push you away, then act like nothing had happened the next morning? His brows furrow, as if reading your thoughts. Maybe you’d be reassigned just to avoid the awkwardness of it all. Scott could send you packing with just a phone call.

Your heart pounds, frozen in place, each second lasting an eternity. His fingers flex on your waist, the electrifying touch causing your lips to part and your lashes to flutter. The sight makes his throat bob.

“God damn it,” he groans, his voice guttural.

It’s the only warning you get before his mouth descends onto yours. Though his lips are smooth, there’s nothing gentle about the way Scott kisses you. His mouth moves hungrily against yours, devouring and demanding and all-consuming, like you’re the very air he needs to breathe. You sigh, aching for more, that dull fire inside you growing hotter at the groan that escapes him. As he fists a hand in your hair, he wraps a strong arm around your middle to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

“Scott…” Bunching his shirt in your hands, you’re helpless when he nips at your bottom lip, pulling desperate, needy sounds from you. As he trails hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, finding every spot with ease, his fingers wrap gently around your throat, your pulse racing against his thumb.

“God, I’ve wanted you like this for months,” Scott murmurs against your skin, his voice a low growl that makes your thighs clench. A soft moan escapes as you tilt your head to give him better access, his noise of approval rumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve dreamt of this.”

He presses you into the wall behind you as he ravages your neck, all teeth and tongue and the kind of marks that you’ll have to find excuses for in the morning. A shiver sends you arching up into him, fingers slipping into his hair as he palms your breast, lowering his mouth to suck a greedy mark there. You whine at the friction you’re missing, hips circling the air, desperately hooking your fingers into his belt loops to drag him closer.

“Shhh,” Scott pauses to hitch your leg up, slotting his knee between your thighs. Dark blue eyes drink in the sight of you as he squeezes your ass, a cocky smile spreading on his pink and swollen lips. “I know, sweetheart. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You mewl when his knee brushes against your heat, enough to have you rolling helplessly against him but not enough to satisfy your desires. “So pretty, so desperate.”

“Yes,” You grip him harder for some semblance of a tether, that condescending, degrading voice only adding fuel to the fire. Did he know what you fantasized about late at night? The shower running to muffle your moans while you touched yourself to his deep voice, lecturing you over a simple mistake? Open desire swirls in your eyes, pleading now, every want laid bare for him. “Please, I want it.”

Scott’s low noise of approval sounds in his throat, pressing closer to give you what you need. You’d be half-ashamed at the way you eagerly grind against him if his own arousal wasn’t hard against your hip, straining, large and throbbing with every roll of your hips. The material of your panties do nothing to stop the delicious ache of his worn jeans against your clit, too many pieces of fabric between you, trying to quiet pretty sounds as you bite your lip.

“Look at you,” Scott growls, your dress inching higher as he seizes your hips, helping you find a rhythm. Hooking the lace of your panties under his fingers, he tugs the material up tight enough together to elicit a hiss, a dimple playing at the corner of his mouth as he smirks, “Is this all for me, baby?”

Barely managing a nod, you meet his eyes through thick lashes and whimper at the expression on his face. That intense gaze drinks in every inch of you like you’re a piece of art and the last thing he wants to remember, his usually stormy eyes hazy with desire.

“God damn... You just can’t get enough, can you, baby? When you touch yourself at night, do you think about me? Rubbing that needy little pussy on your pillow ‘cause you just can’t help it?” You press harder into him in response, his answering laugh dark against your ear. “But it’s never enough, is it? You always crave more, something thicker, something stronger.”

You whine against the loss of contact as he drops his knee, the sting of your panties snapping against your skin quickly forgotten when he trails his digits along the swell of your mouth. You open up greedily, the salty taste of his skin on your tongue intoxicating as you wrap your lips around him. 

“I bet you look so pretty,” he continues, his voice ragged, “Spread out like a top dollar whore with your cunt in the air, gagging on your fingers and wishing it were me. Wondering how many you need to suck on to fill you up just right. How many do you think, baby? Two? More?”

Scott pulls his fingers out with a pop, nuzzling against you as you try to remember to breathe. “Would you even be able to use that brain of yours, baby? Or would you be so fucking desperate to fill your hole that you’d use however many fit?”

He hikes up your dress while he pushes his hand in your panties, fingers slipping through your soaked folds. Fuck. He slowly circles your clit, stealing the breath from your lungs as you arch up into him. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t feel like this, does it?”

Not even close. Worst of all, you weren’t even sure if Scott knew just how true it was. Other men may have excited you, but nothing compared to this — not you, not the others you took to your bed, not even the fantasy Scott you envisioned. You buck helplessly against him, eager for more, whimpering out some sort of half-reply as you grip his wrist in a pathetic effort to keep him there.

Scott just grins. “What’s wrong, baby? Am I going too slow for you?” When he softens his touch, your nails dig into his skin, leaving little crescent moon marks. Lips desperately search for his, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. “I knew you’d be greedy,” he hums, gripping you roughly by the chin, his thumb swiping over your parted lips. “Letting me play with your pussy like this, where anyone could walk out and see how much of a slut you’re being.”

You bite back a moan as you remember where you are, glancing frantically at the door like it might open any second. Your pulse skyrockets when he resumes teasing, circling your clit then dipping down to press at your entrance. Fingers close around the fabric of his shirt, meaning to push him away and only pulling him closer with another desperate whine. “Scott, please…”

“Fuck.” There’s a dark look that flashes across his face, voice rough and ragged, and you watch, with nothing to shield his gaze, as his control snaps.

Sliding his hand over your mouth, it’s the only warning you get before he sinks a thick digit into your weeping cunt. The growl that escapes him when you automatically clench around it only makes you wetter, paralyzed with lust as he works you into pliancy. You pant, chest heaving, as he finds a steady rhythm that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, every moan muffled against the palm of his hand as you arch into his touch.

You cry out when he adds a second finger, rocking your hips desperately as he angles his hand just right to rub against your clit. “Harder— Please, more—” The words are strangled, spilling out of you mindlessly now, unable to think beyond the way Scott stretches you out. You grab a fistful of his hair as he groans against your neck, dragging teeth and tongue along your skin, freeing your breasts from your dress before covering your mouth again.

“So god damned sexy,” he growls, quick to lap at your hardened nipples, the flat of his tongue spilling another pretty sound from your throat. He curls his digits deeper inside you, the wet schlick of your heat loud in your ears as he sets a brutal pace, switching his attention to your other neglected nipple.

Breath hot against your skin, Scott relishes how you become putty in his hands, holding onto him for support as he strokes that burning fire in you.

“Perfect fucking tits. Perfect fucking pussy. Jesus, sweetheart,” he nips at your skin, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Is this what you like? Being used like my own personal fucktoy? What would the others think if they saw you right now, fucking yourself stupid on me like a bitch in heat?”

He slips his fingers out long enough for you to beg, his smile dark against your skin while you whimper in desperation — and then he’s pushing back into you, stretching your hole with every rough thrust of his fingers. “Hear that, sweetheart? Even your body knows it’s meant to be mine.”

Scott kisses you hungrily as he drops his free hand to your breast, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you scream. His fingers slick harder into you, his cock thick and grinding into your hip while you try to breathe against his storm, your own control slipping as you fist his dark curls in your hands, looking for leverage.

“That’s it,” he growls, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it, baby? You wanna cum for me? Let the whole bar know you’re my toy to play with?”

“Please, please, please—” You can’t think beyond the brutal pace he’s set, not even sure that your voice sounds human as you babble, eyes big and watering. “Wanna cum for you, please, I need it—”

“You need it?” You gasp as the pain on your nipple subsides only for him to pinch the other, something dark and destructive swirling heavy in his blue eyes. You shiver at the expression, the carnal desire written so clearly over his face, every word out of his mouth deep, commanding, leaving no room for debate. “I’ll tell you when you get to cum. This is mine.” Pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit, he watches with glee as you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming, obeying his command even as your body fights.

Your knees nearly buckle at the growl in his voice. Every thrust of his fingers brings you closer to the edge, the heat overwhelming. How many nights had you spent with your fingers in your cunt, picturing scenario after scenario of him taking you in the van, in the bathroom, on his desk after hours? 

“Say it,” Scott insists. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You meet his gaze, the intensity of it nearly sending you over the edge. “I’m yours,” you say, caught between a moan and something stronger, your words choking off.

“Again.” His expression tightens, picking up speed. “Louder.”

“I’m yours!” Your body trembles with the effort to stay upright, writhing against him. The words feel like a vow, your grip on Scott tight as you sob them into him. “My pussy is yours, my body is yours— Just a pathetic, dirty, worthless hole for you to fuck— Fuck, Scott, please—”

Scott growls in response, fisting his hand in your hair as finds the spongey spot inside of you. His digits work you hard, the veins in his arms on display as you bite back a scream, waiting, begging, needing. “Cum,” he grunts, the sound of his fingers driving into you loud and damning, “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me.”

You fall over the edge hard and fast, crying out as all the tension from the night finally snaps. It feels like an eternity as he continues fucking you through it, every filthy promise spelled out clearly with his lips at your ear.

By the time you come crashing back down, you’re shaking and empty, blinking back stars as Scott steps back. “Oh my god,” you gasp, fighting to catch your breath, mind still a mess as you try to piece together everything that happened. “That was…”

You watch, mesmerized, as Scott sucks his fingers into his mouth, a groan of approval sounding deep in his throat. And when he squeezes at his bulge straining against his zipper, your core clenches tight at the thought of his weight on top of yours, fucking you into submission again and again until he gets his fill.

“Just the beginning,” Scott promises, stepping toward you to tilt your chin up, his free hand coming down to tighten around your soaked panties and pull. They rip easily in his strong grasp, his grin triumphant as he stuffs them into his back pocket. “You won’t be needing these anymore.”

“Why?” Your body tenses with anticipation, noting the defined dimple in his cheek, the kind of grin he only wore when he was about to be incredibly, infuriatingly smug.

“Because,” he hums, full of condescension, “I didn’t hear a thank you.”

Before you can fix your mistake, Scott silences you with a kiss, his mouth patronizingly gentle as a wicked laugh sounds in the back of his throat. “Don’t worry,” he says, dropping another chaste kiss to your mouth, your nose, the space between your creased brows. “It won’t happen again. I’ll teach you, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps rise on your flesh as Scott adjusts your dress to cover your exposed body, the act so gentle and unbecoming that you freeze enough to let him. The moment only lasts a minute, your eyes meeting as he squeezes the curve of your ass when he’s done, all that vulnerability you had seen locked away again, like he’s guarding himself as reality comes back to life.

A muscle feathers in his jaw as his gaze shifts from you to the back door you’d spilled from. You’ve known Scott long enough by now to know he won’t be the one to say what’s hanging in the air. It would be easier, safer, to walk back in like nothing had happened and return to the motel alone, hitching a ride with anyone other than Scott the next morning.

But if you turn away now, you’ll never see that side of him again: the side that stayed up with you when he could be sleeping, the kind that comforted you without words, the kind that lit your world on fire with every bruising mark he’d left on you. The chance of knowing the man behind the mask.

You don’t miss the way his muscles tense under your touch as you reach for him or the flash of relief that flickers through him. “You think I’m teachable?” You ask, turning big eyes up at him, begging him to see the way you lay yourself bare for him — hoping, praying, that he doesn’t turn you down even still.

“I’m not an easy teacher.” He says, low, still guarded. Still giving you one last out.

You shake your head, a laugh tumbling out. His throat bobs at the sound. “I don’t want easy.” The truth of that hangs heavy in the air, zipping between the two of you as recognition passes through his eyes. “Now are you driving, or am I?”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he presses his tongue into his cheek and takes a step back. “My van, my rules,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm, and you hear the familiar rumble of the Storm Par van coming to life. His keys jingle in his hand as he adds, “You should know that by now.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a smile, and follow him out of the alleyway.

You did know. And as you settle into the passenger seat, the scent of the van enveloping you — a mix of old leather and Scott’s cologne — anticipation crackles in the air. The night stretches ahead, full of unspoken possibilities.

You couldn’t wait to test how far those rules went... and just how much you both were willing to bend them.

[xo-cod]

this wasn't supposed to be a poly thing but here we are lmfaoo, nsfw version <3 rushed/ooc/the usual. i'm not that happy w this, could've more nsfw but 🥴

cw: p in v, cockwarming, eating out, unprotected sex, a bit of everything 😭 18+/mdni!

sfw version

POSSESSIVENESS!!!!

oh my god, they are all so possessive

if you've spent too long with one of them, the other immediately scenting you in their musk

"you smell much better now" he finally grumbles having finished removing the scent from the other man and he can finally take you in his arms

high libidos, i mean they're big burly men 🤭 it's both a blessing and a curse </3

price is a passionate lover. you've got him hooked on your taste and he damn well sure explore every nook and cranny you've to offer. he will learn your body like the back of his hand, knowing what parts usually respond to and what gets you turned on. how to touch you, how to caress you, this is all his forte

ghost is an intense lover, especially when he's been away from you. instantly marking you and devouring you the second he gets his hands on you. really hands on with you, his tactical gloves thrown behind his back and his mask rolled up over his nose before he's kissing you like a starved man

gaz is a doting lover, he's all about the small moments :") kissing you when the head of his cock rubs against your slit, holding your hand when his thrusts get deeper and longer, whispering the most prettiest words when you're whimpering against him :((

soap is a fun lover. sex isn't serious with him unless he's been away and couldn't have you. he likes all the sounds you make and he encourages you to make them, he loves seeing your pretty smile as he makes you feel good. wants to try different positions but heavily enjoys the ones that have you as close to him as possible

price and ghost are definitely the type to make it their personal mission to get you to moan louder when you've spent the night with another man, being forced to hear your pretty whimpers and losing it completely when they hear you cum

won't burst into the room but will bide his time until the night where he'll do everything and anything to get you a moaning mess

"does he fuck you like this? tell me princess, is he better than me?" you'll hear some taunts during the peak of your orgasms and depending on the mood, he might just even withhold your orgasm 😗

soap and ghost really like cockwarming afterwards, purely to feel close with you after a particularly hard day <3

something about feel you so close to his body, your warm cunt gently squeezing around him as he lays on your chest brings him the most joy <3

price and gaz hold you in their huge arms and whisper sweet words as you both nod off to sleep, his touch lingering against your skin as he drifts off

fivesomes when you're bored lmfaoo 😵‍💫🫣😮‍💨

price situates himself in the back, ghost in your cunt, soap in your mouth and gaz in your hand.

your body is sandwiched between the thick warm bodies of price and ghost, both of them kissing and pawing at your skin to feel more

price taking control over your hips, gently rolling against it so not to overwhelm you, "taking us so well pretty, eh?"

"look at 'er, such a good love" ghost chuckled softly, pressing down on the bulge he's created in your stomach causing both of you to groan.

soap's cock in your mouth, his hand caressing the bulge he's making in your neck as he eases himself more, "that's it, bonnie. such a good fuckin girl"

gaz cooing at how much of a good girl you are while you stroke him, his lips peppering soft kisses on your neck no doubt leaving behind marks in their wake, "so beautiful like this, sweetheart"

will 100% buy you an anklet with all their initials on it

will go absolutely feral over you when one of them needs you and another wants you

testosterone levels hitting the roof, a fight will break out if they're ansty enough. will not share, he needs you for himself ‼️‼️

they are obsessed with your cunt

there has been times when you've been incredibly overstimulated from pleasure and how much they've latched on to your clit, his face buried as deep as possible while he licks and sucks

soap and ghost could honestly spend hours lapping at your clit, spreading your walls to get in deeper. using their fingers to stimulate the bundle of nerves hidden inside, enjoying how responsive you are

you'll usually have to push their faces away, their eyes blown and their bottom half of their face covered with your slick

gaz loves to suck your nipples, his mouth latched on to your chest while his tongue rolls over the sensitive bud over and over. releasing with a pop and a string of saliva before he gives the same attention to the other, his hands pressing into your back to bring you closer <33

price loves marking you anywhere he can get his lips on. loves sucking your skin and the taste, pressing a tender kiss afterwards.

they love fidgeting with you!! :")

ghost would have you in his lap, his cock buried deep inside your cunt as he goes over his work. his hips occasionally rolling up a little to give you some friction while he works away, his hand snaking down to gently rub circles on your aching clit while he presses sweet kiss to your shoulder blade, soft promises that he'll be done in a half hour or so

price would have you on his lap, one hand in your panties while the other works on his paperwork. his fingers toying and teasing your clit, running down to press his middle finger inside up at the first knuckle before going back up to tap at your clit again. loves making your folds all puffy and sensitive :(

soap having you under his desk all cosied up as you suck him underneath, licking lazy strokes over the head of his cock. lapping up at his precum, gagging softly when you push your head down until your nose touched the soft tuft of hair at the base of his cock. his legs wrapped around your body, holding you steady cooing softly at how good you are <3

gaz touching and caressing your body while he has to finish a task price set up for him. absentmindedly stroking your your thighs and hips until they reach between your legs, his fingers gently stroking against your eager cunt. not enough to actually get you off but enough for the tiniest bit of pressure, lazily separating your walls and fingering you with his middle and ring finger as he works <3

they all 100% have breeding kinks and together?? 😵‍💫😵‍💫

"wanna put my baby in you, you'd look so fuckin beautiful" ghost panted, watching him cum drip out of your hole fucking it right back in. making sure not a drop is wasted

"one kid might not hurt, what do you say gorgeous, hm?" price's breath was shuttered as he leans on his forearms, his eyes sparkling with desire and passion. the king of breeding, he'll continue to thrust his cum into you until your stomach bulges a little from how stuffed you are

"so so beautiful" gaz hummed, hiking your legs higher on his shoulder while his hand gently pressed down against your stomach, your whimpers music to his ears as his balls tightened. sending him over the edge as he thrusted his cum deep inside your womb

"you'd look so fuckin beautiful pregnant with my kids, wouldn't you bonnie?" his groans are echoing with your moans, with every powerful drive of his hips you can feel your control slip further away. he's so feral, not giving you a chance to even speak before he holds you close and his cock filling you up with his seed. overfilled and you can feel it rush out, dripping down between your bodies

heaven forbid another recruit even hands you a compliment, their ears will have picked it up no matter where they are

and the tension levels in that room will have risen to the skies

silent death stares, stiff postures, the poor recruits looking around wondering why his superiors are suddenly giving him the meanest death glares known to mankind and why ghost looks like the grim reaper

you'll spend the evening with all four of them, not moving a single inch unless you absolutely have to

price and ghost get jealous when you have toys, why would you need them when you can use him??

soap and gaz like the toys to bring you orgasm after orgasm, watching you break apart in his arms from the pure pleasure

threesome with price and ghost is very intense. both men are the top dogs, trying to beat the other and competing with each other. it usually ends with several orgasms from uou before either one of them has cum

gaz and soap are devious, finding different ways to stimulate your body and new ways to pleasure you. gaz kissing you, his tongue working your mouth while soap's mouth has latched on to your wet cunt, nuzzling and lapping while he holds you down with his hands

soft sex!!! all of them crave it :") <33

they're not all rough and tumble all the time

price and gaz love having soft sex in the early morning, not only to get his day started right but the morning is so peaceful with the birds singing and the sun barely peeking over the horizon

soap and ghost are more night time enjoyers, the peace and quiet of the darkness and the silence that comes with it. he just wants to be fully immersed with you, not a single thing on his mind

"how's that feeling, beautiful?" price murmured out, brushing away the strands of your hair as he pushed inside you again. he can feel his shoulders slump against yours tiredly, you always manage to make him feel so safe his guard is almost always down when it comes to you. you look so beautiful underneath him, he can't help but stroke your skin pulling you in closer so that he's snuggling right on you <3

"feel so good around me lovie, so good f'me" ghost whispered in to your ear as he caged you between his huge arms, putting you in a mating press as he angles his cock in deeper to your sopping cunt. drawing soft mewls from your lips which he drinks up eagerly with his own lips. he lives for the soft moments, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist while his lips kiss yours, never wanting to leave the safe haven he's found between your arms <3

"squeezin me so tight, baby" soap's breath was hitched as he gently bottomed out, his lips finding yours as he presses tender kisses. his life can become so hectic and chaotic, he really does cherish every single second he can with you and he loves how close he can be to your body. and for him, it's not even about the sex. he just wants to bury himself as much as he can in you <3

"that's my girl" gaz nuzzled into your neck, his hips rolling lazily against yours while he cradles you close to his chest. a soft groan leaves his lips when he feels the pressure around his cock, his head still hazy from sleep and pleasure. bringing you closer as his face rests in the crook of your neck, just able to be kyle instead of a soldier <3

aftercare is a must for all of them, no matter how intense the sex was.

each of them have their preferred way but they all bundle you up close to them, holding you tightly to their chest as their heartbeat provides a steady rhythm in your ears

gentle tender kisses pressed on your forehead, your back gently stroked as their voices offer you water and a snack

depending on each of them, you'll either find yourself being cleaned very softly with a towel thoroughly before he holds you close as you settle to bed

or you're being carried in his arms for a shower, him mostly taking care of everything for you <33

[youaresimplylovely]

can we get max being clingy even in the paddock pls 🙏

Big Baby

𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝖢𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒!𝖬𝖺𝗑 𝖵𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖦𝖿!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝖭𝗈𝗇𝖾! 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗑 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖾𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽! 𝖠/𝖭: 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌!! 𝖨'𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗀𝗀𝗀

To say that "The Max Verstappen" was a tough guy was wrong. People always say he's not soft-hearted and he's just tough as a rock. Boy were they all wrong, yes he is you man well rephrase that a bit. He's your big baby. Who knew that Max would be such a soft big baby on his girlfriend.

It was Sunday, the race day. Your most favorite day of the weekend race but something was different. This Sunday you and Max didn't drive to the paddock together which was odd because Max always wants to be next to you all the time. Although he did say he had to attend a meeting that's why he can't go with you.

You arrived in the paddock bright and early, you smiled greeting the other drivers who arrived early too. You take the paddock pass that was in your pocket, giving the lady who was the one monitoring the gate with a nod. Beep! The paddock pass scanned as you entered the paddock.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice calling your name out. "Baby! Baby! Wait for me! Schatje!" The voice called out for you, turning your head around with a smile on your face to see Max but something was wrong. He didn't have his pass. Your eyes widened seeing him climb over the turnstile gate.

"Wait Maxie" You exclaim, hurriedly finding his pass that was well with you and it was placed on the very bottom of your purse.

"Sir-" The lady uttered, reaching her hand out to try and pull Max out but she was too late.

A loud laugh erupted from you, seeing your boyfriend run to you and pull you in his arms. "God i missed you so much." He mumbles, his hands grazing all over you body.

"It was only 30 minutes baby." You mumble, giving him a peck on his cheek.

"Let's go get breakfast hmm?" You hum, letting go of his hand that was holding yours. God, you shouldn't have done that.

Max stared at you and at your hand that you let go of. His eyes blinking profusely, he was speechless. He stood there, frozen at what just happened. "You're breaking up with me!?" He utters dramatically, his mouth wide open and hands pointing at yours with a gasp erupting his mouth.

Your eyes widened, turning your head around to look at Max. You couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Baby!" You giggle, gently grabbing his hands to hold them back. "i let go for a second." You smile softly.

"Exactly! So you want to break up with me??" His eyebrows furrow as he looks at you with a cute but questioning face.

"What? Baby! No! I only let go cause I was gonna grab my phone." You assure him.

"oh okay." He smiles happily again. Suddenly, he carried you in his arms bridal style while giving you kisses on your neck.

"Max! We're in public." You mutter, chuckling nervously at the people who were staring at you two. "This is gonna be a long day." You mumble.

Few minutes later, you and Max finally arrived at the eating area. Thankfully, he finally put you down which he was not happy about. Max was clinging onto your back wrapping his arms around you while he kisses you from behind.

You reach out to grab a plate and tongs to get food for you and Max but you couldn't. Because of Max's tight grip on you, you could barely do anything.

"Maxie baby, I need to get food for us." You put the plates and tongs down as you turn around to face him with a serious face.

"But-" He finally realized you were serious, he gave you a pout and puppy eyes. He mumbles groans, he wasn't mad at you, he was mad at the food for taking the time of his girl when she's supposed to spend time with him!?! He sat on one of the chairs, patiently waiting for you as he stared at you.

After you finally finished grabbing food for you and Max. You set the food down on the table as you were about to sit, Max immediately grabbed your waist and pulled you into his lap. He smiled at you cutely, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You chuckle at his cute behaviour, you grab a piece of bread and feed it to him. He opens his mouth as he ate it, his hands caressing your back while he stares at you. "I love it when you feed me." He smiles, giggling.

You smile, giving him a kiss on the lips as you two enjoyed your time in the paddock.

Lando, who was jaw dropped and eyes opened seeing you two. "I literally tried to give him a french fry the other day and he said 'no'." He says in his sarcastic and disgusted voice. "While this woman feeds him a piece of bread and he's like a big baby." Lando rolls his eyes.

"For the last time, you're not the girlfriend." Charles mutters at Lando as he looks at him with a glare on his face eventually smiling at you and Max.

TAGLIST

and if u want to be added on my taglist u can reply hereee <3

@euphoricchills @charlesleclerx @Inchident-jgp @amethyst-bitch @dr4g0ngirl @likedbygaslyy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @httpstoyosi @bibissparkles @lokideservesahug @hiireadstuff @urfavouriteanon @darleneslane @shelbyteller @spookystitchery @justtprachisblog @alliwantisadonut @kika-writes @casperlikej @funnelcakeee @xoscar03 @snapeeballsack @silverxxs-world @thearchieves @destinyg237 @juliee4everial @thebasicbiatch @glossiersworld @aadu2173 @honethatty12 @halleest @janeholt3 @callsignwidow @evie-119 @exotic-iris13 @dark-night-sky-99 @delululeclerc @eiaaasamantha @hrts4scarr @felicityforyou @sya-skies @hockeyboysarehot

[c0eu4]

Can I request something? If not it’s ok

Reader being Landos younger sister and he catches his teammate and his sister really deep into making out

OP81 | Caught ♡

Summary: Y/n is the apple of Lando’s eye. He always protected her from everyone. Well, that's what he thought until he realized that she's not that innocent... Especially with his teammate.

Warning: smut, dom!Oscar, sub!reader, Y/n Norris

A/N: I hope you were talking about Oscar when you said teammates 😔 (And if it wasn't about him, tell me so I can make another one :)

part one - part two

MASTERLIST requests are open

She walks through the paddocks, looking for her brother. Her orange t-shirt proudly bears the number 4 on the back, but is slightly hidden by her long hair.

She goes to his driver's room, to the cafeteria, she even goes to Ferrari to see if he's with Carlos but he's still nowhere to be found.

She returns to McLaren's private premises and takes something to quench her thirst. The heat is in full swing in Spain. She's supposed to go back to the hotel with Lando but it's going to be complicated if he doesn't answer the phone and is nowhere to be found.

''Lando went to the gym.'' She jumps and turns around to see who had spoken to her (even though she had already recognized the person with his Australian accent.) ''He asked me to drive you back to the hotel .'' Oh my God. Finally she will have a chance to be alone with him.

Since they met, it was like love at first sight for Y/n. She only had eyes for him. Of course, he didn't even notice her that much, too focused on race. But Y/n, she couldn't stop thinking about him. And unfortunately, Lando quickly noticed, doing everything possible to avoid the two of them being alone. Y/n loves Lando. But he's too protective. She has always had to hide every relationship she has from him, for fear that her boyfriend will run away.

''You heard me?'' He passed his hand in front of her, visibly annoyed. She feels herself blushing, stammering words. ''I..uhg..yes, yeah.. sorry.'' He chuckles. ''Am I destabilizing you, Norris?'' She feels herself blushing even more. ''No!'' She sighs, feeling shame sticking to her cheeks.

''Do you still have things to do?'' He runs his hand through his hair. How she loves it when he does that. ''No, you need to grab something before we go?'' She shakes her head as a no and he walks, followed by her, to the exit of the track. They go to his car and he starts driving.

She doesn't dare to move the whole way, too afraid to get his attention. This may be the longest car ride any of them have ever had the opportunity to take. Embarrassment is felt throughout, with none of them daring to speak.

Finally arriving at the hotel, she quickly gets out of the car and closes the door without slamming it, for fear of making him more annoying (she was traumatized because of Lando.)

He walks her to her hotel room, since their rooms are opposite each other. She searches in her pocket, then in her jacket, then in her purse. No no no no... it's not possible... she, who thought the situation couldn't be more awkward. It's Lando who has her keys.

She turns to Oscar, who understands directly. He huffs and runs his hand through his hair again. ''Tell Lando to hurry up. You will wait in my room.'' On the one hand, she's like 'oh my god, I'm going to stay alone with Oscar in his room.' but on the other hand, it's more like 'Oh no, shame, I'll have to wait with him.'

She follows him into his room. It's like hers, a simple bed, a television and a door that leads to the bathroom. Nothing very extraordinary.

''Do you mind if I go take a shower?'' She shakes her head as a no and hopes he'll take his time, just to ease the awkwardness between them.

She sits on the bed, not really knowing what to do. She sends a message to Lando, literally asking him to come save her.

Meanwhile, Oscar takes his time in the shower. Not because he doesn't want to see Y/n, but more for a masculine reason. The icy water runs down his naked body, trying to deflate his now hard member. But he can't help but think of Y/n, in the next room. He grunts, not even managing to wash his body without feeling a thrill of pleasure because he's so excited.

His thoughts wander to y/n, naked, touching herself. ''Uhg..fuck..'' No no no no. He needs to get his act together. He comes out of the shower, his member still hard. He changes and tries to hide the bump on his sweatpants as best as possible.

He opens the bathroom door and runs his hand through his damp hair. He does this all the time when he's embarrassed. And he hopes she hasn't noticed.

His first mistake when he sees Y/n again is to stare a little too long at the bottom of her thighs, her shorts revealing her skin a little more given the position she was in. His second mistake was imagining himself between her legs, rubbing against her.

''You ok?'' She asked him, her voice was so innocent. ''Uhm I.. yes.'' She chuckles, understanding that she has an effect on him. Unfortunately for Oscar, his bump wasn't hidden very well with his gray sweatpants. ''Am I destabilizing you?'' She reuses his words that he said earlier.

Oscar takes a while to respond. He doesn't know if he should say 'yes' to her and go all out by kissing her or say 'no' and probably never have this opportunity again in his life. He thinks about Lando. To the conversation they had earlier this year,''Don't even think about fucking my sister once in your entire life.''

Well. Fuck you Lando.

''Yes you are.'' She looks at him, shocked. She expected anything but that. She sits up in bed, leaning against the headboard as he moves a little closer to her. ''Since I met you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. That's why Lando never leaves us alone together.''

His eyes widen. She doesn't know what to say. But she feels the excitement building in her body. Without thinking twice, he sits next to her in bed, placing his hand on her cheek. He surprises himself by being so confident. His cheeks turn as red as hers.

''Can I?'' He manages to say, their lips a few centimeters away. ''Yes.'' He feels her breath on his lips and doesn't wait any longer to stick his lips against hers. Her lips are soft and warm. He tastes her cherry Labello on her lips. She doesn't push him away but welcomes him with open arms. She places her hands in the crook of his neck, pulling him towards her. He takes the opportunity to slip between her legs, deepening the kiss with his tongue. He caresses her inner cheeks, his hips grinding against hers. She can't help but moan, sending shivers down his spine.

His kisses go down on her jaw, her neck and her collarbone. ''Why did I wait longer?'' He asked him, making her laugh softly. She lets her hand trail through her hair, playing with a few strands. He plays with her t-shirt, pulling it slightly, ''Can I?''

She nodded slowly, blushing even more at the idea of Oscar seeing her so naked. ''I need word, sugar..'' He whispered to her, his voice rough and full of lust. ''Yes..please..'' Her breathing quickens when Oscar's hands caresses her thin exposed waist, removing her t-shirt completely.

''Ah-ha.. Oscar..'' He takes off his t-shirt, his kisses descending on her chest. He feels her gesticulate slightly because of the pleasure he gives her.

''I..I need you.'' Oscar smiled mischievously. ''Are you sure?'' ''Yes!'' He doesn't wait any longer to undress her completely and gets up to rummage through his suitcase. He returns with a box of condoms and some lube. He places them next to her and also undresses himself.

She watches him do it, her eyes filled with love for him. She refrains from moaning at the sight of his imposing member, watching his hands slide the condom over his length. He opens the lube and drops some into his hand, jerking himself gently to spread the liquid.

He gets on top of her and she feels his member between her thighs. ''Do you want me to warn you?'' She shakes her head as a no, waiting for him to enter. He kisses her nose, pushing his length slowly in her.

The feeling is...strange? It's the first time she's felt so stretched. He gives her time, not moving at all and his gaze remains fixed on her every movement. He takes her hand and entangles her fingers with his. She uses her other arm to put it around his neck, keeping him close to her.

''You're ok?'' He asks her, to be sure that she's not feeling uncomfortable. ''Yes. And you? You're in a good position?'' He kisses her cheek. ''Don't worry about me, darling.''

He moves his hips against hers, making her moan slightly. He almost takes out of her, then goes back in with a wet noise. ''Fuck you're so tight..'' He moaned, keeping a slow but pleasant pace. He allows himself to speed up, increasing the volume of the moans that echo through the room.

He hides his head in the crook of her neck, muffling his loud moans. ''Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!'' She keeps moaning, her hips moving at the same time as him.

This is probably the first time that Oscar is going to cum so quickly. He feels so good inside her. And he waited so long for this moment. The ball of excitement in his stomach is about to burst.

''O-Osc-Oscar..I'm..Uh..I..Fuck..I'm.. cumming..'' Her eyes roll back, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave of bricks. Her walls tighten around him and he barely takes a few seconds before his eyes close and he releases his hot seed in the condom.

''Did you just spill in my sister!?'' None of them have time to collect their minds before they turn their heads and see Lando, frowning and obviously very angry.

They were so involved in their lovemaking that they didn't hear Lando come into the room.

''LANDO!'' She grabbed a cushion and managed to throw it at him. Oscar withdraws from her hastily, reluctantly and pulls the blanket up over their naked bodies.

''Get dressed and Y/n, join me in your room. We need to talk.'' Lando is cold and strict in his voice. What he saw really didn't please him. He walks out of the room and slams the door behind him. Y/n meets Oscar’s gaze and they both laugh softly.

He gets up and gives her her clothes again, helping her to get dressed.

Once done, he can't help but kiss her tenderly and let her leave her room, stressed for her but also for him.

[bunnys-kisses]

can i order belgian waffles and soda served by max verstappen? thanks bunny <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order?? then hit up the menu! there are tons of items available! i'd love to hear from you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for such a nice order! it's rather short, but i love, love, love it! jealous!max my beloved! thank you!!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + soda (jealousy) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, jealous!max, jealousy, dirty talk, missionary sex, motor home sex

"you're a jealous man, max verstappen." you said one night in the garage. your arms crossed and you gaze heavy on him.

he mimic your stance and replied, "i don't want the likes of piastri trying to take my mechanic."

you snorted through your nose, "right." you shifted from one foot the other, "because that weekend in lisbon and that christmas present last year really were because i was employee of the month.... that and somehow my supposed contract with alpine fell through."

max wasn't jealous. he was just concerned.

there should be an age restriction on mechanics. they should be old guys who can still work like they were in their twenties. because if max caught sight of you in your coveralls, looking like a total mess.

you weren't just some cute thing in the garage, you moved with the rest of your team. you were strong for all your time lifting and moving things. but yet carried such soft features that yanked on max's heart like a chain. you seemed so dedicated to getting max his fourth championship.

which was why he was curious why you were in the mercedes garage. he stayed a fair distance with his hat low to keep from any unwanted attention. he wanted to see where this was going.

"this is crazy, george! you really shouldn't be showing me this! oh my god." you said. then you starte to ramble about the aspects of the car. you were practically on your knees to get closer to it.

george tried not to think about you on your knees to hard. he didn't have ill intentions with you. and afterwards, you thanked george before you left, telling him you 'owed him one'. you were impressed by the car, if one red bull had the same specs. the team was pushing you to your limit at times, it didn't help that you had the golden boy of the team stalking in your shadows.

"have a good nice." george said before he watched you walk off.

max caught up with george after you both left the garage, a jealousy coiled in his chest. "george!"

the other man looked over, you far ahead now. he waved to max, "hey, mate."

"what are you doing out near the garage? race's over, man." that press smile hung on max's lips. he could see that you were gaining distance. but if max doesn't set a boundary now. george might get the wrong idea.

"ah, ya know. keepin' busy." max was soon in his personal space, "what are you doing around here?"

"aw, well. looking for my mechanic." he smiled as he placed a hand on george's back, giving it a firm smack. he leaned in to the other man and said, "i hope you know, george, i cum in that every night. it's not right to touch what belongs to another man. we're friends, right?" george nodded and max nodded in response, "so just back off, okay? she doesn't need to be poking around in your garage. and tell toto that she isn't interested in that contract either." then flashed the other man one of his winning smiles before he pulled away from him and went to go find you.

max wasn't a jealous man, he just knew your skills were suited better for the build of red bull.

in the room of his motorhome the night before you had to pack up for the next weekend. there was a fair bit of privacy in the place. it was probably more spacious than your apartment. even though max keeps suggesting you move in with him (the cats would love you). it felt nice to be out of your mechanics clothes, it could be sweltering sometimes. but it was needed when handling such dangerous machinery.

you didn't stray from red bull for long. you were in a shirt that had the logo across your chest, your breasts warping the image in the process and a fresh pair of cotton panties.

max loved the sight of you, how sweet you looked in his space. he remembered the first time you were in his home and your mouth went slack from the sight of it. your first comment was the view, which max let you get a closer look when he fucked you up against the window.

but, he'd have to reign it in a little tonight.

you were curled up with him in bed, your head against his chest while he played with your hair. you lifted your head a little to look at him and he kissed you.

"i saw you were with george today."

"oh! that wasn't anything. he just wanted to show me the car. i was interested in the specs that we could use in red bull... if anyone listened to me."

he smiled, "well." he kissed your forehead, "i always listen to you." he got you onto your back and in between your legs. he was able to move you so easily, for a woman who spent her days lugging around heavy materials, max could easily move you.

you were soft under his touch. in the low lighting of the bedroom. his hands on your hips as he admired you. you blushed a little bit, "i promise there was no funny business. plus george has a girlfriend!"

he got your legs around his waist and chuckled softly, "you think so little of me. i know you wouldn't break my heart that way. only being a team switcher. plus, if george tried to put his hands on you... we'd have a problem." he pressed his clothed cock against you, "but you're my good mechanic, right?"

you swallowed, "you're insatiable."

he pulled at the shirt on you, "only for you. i don't want you getting involved with teams that are less than. you only deserve the best."

"and what's the best?" you asked as the shirt was pulled over your head.

"me."

the two of you got out of your clothes, and max grabbed a condom out of the nightstand drawer. you had already gone through half of the pack that weekend. his hands on your thighs as he gazed at your nude body.

the only thing better than red bull or max's logo across your tits was them being bare for his eyes only. he licked his lips as he brushed his bare cock up against your slit.

"hey!" you yelped.

he chuckled, "quiet. i don't want a noise complaint from the other team. i know you want to scream my name, but tonight we have to keep quiet." he put on the condom and laid you out on the bed. he kissed your jaw as he shifted you hips up against him for a good angle.

he got into you, and shuddered at the feeling. being intimate with you was like a breath of fresh air. even on the days where the smell of car lingered on you and sweat was caked to his skin.

he loved your curves, your smile. how you lit up the garage and were a hard working. your knowledge of cars and how excited you spoke about them. he remembered a time where you could point out cars that passed by when you were having lunch together.

"you feel so good." he said softly, "you just feel like a dream. thank you for taking good care of my car and taking better care of me." he peppered your face with kisses, pushed your hair out the way to access more skin.

you glowed at the touch, it was so simple but yet it left your soul on fire. even when max was a jealous man, you still yearned for his closeness. his kisses and touches, his soft words and how he looked at you. he could have a day from hell, but when he saw you it was like the skies opened for him.

you held his face and brought his lips to yours. his lips were soft, a little raw from his biting while driving earlier in the day. his body felt good against yours. when you pulled away, you smiled at him.

it was like being kissed by sunshine.

he moved against you, your legs around his waist. your nails up near the back of his head. the kisses were passionately. the bed shifted a little with max's movements, but it made your heart leap in your chest.

you then cupped his face and ran your thumb across his bottom lip and smiled. heat in your cheeks as he thrusted. "of course max, a champion only becomes one when he has a championship worthy mechanic."

a shudder went through him, "i like when you talk like that." he said with such affection, "seeing that ego of yours inflate."

you giggled and pressed your forehead to his, "it's warranted. just keep getting those podiums." then kissed him once more.

the rhythm max had was steady and made pleasure circulate through your body. your soft moans were highlighted by the creaking of the bed. the heat inside of you bleed into your hands and feet as he rutted against you.

your nails dragged lazily across his broad shoulders. you panted heavily as max shifted your hips to get a better angle.

"so good for me."

"and you're good for me." he replied. he could feel the wash of warmth in his face, probably staining his cheeks pink. like when he finished a race. but having sex with you was not a race.

"max."

he knew you were getting close. he could feel the shudder through his body. it was like a inferno that he fed into.

you covered your mouth as to not get loud. but max pulled them away from you and pinned you to the soft covers. he silenced with you a kiss as he jackhammered into you. your back arched more, stopped by max's wider chest.

you held onto his hands as he pinned them down and kissed him deeply as you climaxed. your legs tightened around his waist and he continued to move against you. he was close behind you, giving you another searing kiss as he finished in the condom.

his pace slowed to a stop and he felt the heat on his back. he pulled out of you and went to go get rid of the condom. you curled up on the bed and pulled the pillow under your head as you eyed him throwing it out with the others from the weekend.

he got his briefs back on and got you back into his arms. you melted into his touch. in all fairness, you had very little intention of running off to another team. even if red bull drove you crazy, to feel close to max as often as you did felt nice.

if you put your soul into that engine, then he gave his soul over to you.

-

max wasn't a jealous man, but the only thing that could sate the throb of emotion were two things. a multi-year contract with red bull with your name on it and the thin gold chain with a small 'm' pendant. something you could tuck into your uniform while you worked.

he smiled at you, and you wiped grease off your cheek with your gloves, "going to make me win tonight?"

you nodded, "of course." you smiled at him before you pushed hair out of your eyes, "win like always, verstappen. and don't." you pointed at him, "damage my car."

he pulled you by the waist for a soft kiss, "of course." he wasn't a jealous man, but he'd be a fool if he let you go. <3

[aliyahwritings]

PROTECTIVE INSTINCTS.

Summary: Rafe Cameron gets into a fight, and Sassy!Kook!Reader helps him clean up his wounds.

Warnings: childhood friends, overprotective!rafe, alcohol/coke mentioned, blood, dumb ahh inlove, annoying mf.

Words Count: 3163

A/N: my first 'official' post ohmygawwddd!!!! i hope you will all like this. u can imagine this out of the obx plot bc in this universe sarah and rafe lowk get along and she's not w topp*r. i imagine rafe being 20/21 and reader is js a year younger

Getting an invite to Topper's party was supposed to be the highlight of your week—a chance to let loose, drink, dance, and maybe sneak in a smoke or two. You were determined to have fun. You and Sarah had been buzzing about it for days, thrilled at the idea of a night out after what felt like an eternity of being buried under schoolwork. It had been ages since either of you had gone to a party, and with all the stress piling up, you needed the break.

But, of course, Rafe had to go and ruin it by reminding you that he existed and was going to attend the party.

As the night of the party arrived, you spent way too much time getting ready—your reflection in the mirror repeatedly checked as you perfected your messy dark eye makeup. Black heels on, strapless mini-dress in a black fabric. The waist is drawn with a thin, satin black ribbon into a neat bow. The skirt flared out slightly, you knew you looked stunning. Sarah had already sent you a dozen texts about how she couldn’t wait to hit the party, and you were just about ready to go.

When you arrived at the party, it was even more packed than you'd expected. Music thumped through the house, bodies swayed on the makeshift dance floor, and the smell of coke, smoke, and alcohol lingered in the air. Sarah grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd as you both laughed. That was exactly the chaos you both needed.

"God, I've missed this!" Sarah shouted over the music as we moved to the dance floor. You smiled, matching her energy, the rhythm pulling your bodies into a sway.

For a while, it was easy to forget everything—school stress, drama, even Rafe’s looming presence at the party.

That is, until you saw him.

Rafe Cameron, leaning against a wall with his usual arrogance, a bottle of beer in his hand and his eyes scanning the room like he owned the place. It wasn't long before his eyes landed on you, and as usual, he didn’t look away. His eyes tracked you from across the room. He always watched you—like it was his job to make sure you were okay, even though you made it clear you didn’t need him playing bodyguard.

You groaned inwardly. 

“Just ignore him,” Sarah whispered in your ear, sensing your mood shift. “Come on, let’s dance.”

And you did—letting the music take over as you moved with your friend, blocking out everything else. For a moment, it felt like maybe, you could enjoy the night without thinking about him. You walked away from your friend to get both of you a drink but as you arrived at the bar, a guy who you didn’t recognize walked up to me, his breath hot and alcohol-laced as he leaned in too close, his voice low and crude.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he said with a smirk growing on his face. “You look stunning tonight. That dress—damn, it’s doing wonders to your body.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore him as you focused on getting your drinks. “Thanks, but I’m not interested,” you replied coolly, turning slightly away from him.

“Oh, come on now,” he pressed, undeterred. “Don’t be like that. I could make your night a lot more fun. I know how to show a girl a good time. I could take you somewhere private, just you and me. I bet I could make you feel better than any of the other guys ever could.”

You felt your stomach churn, irritation rising as you glanced around for an escape. “I really don’t think so,” you said firmly, your patience wearing thin. “Just back off, alright?”

But he stepped closer, invading your personal space even more, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Why're you playing hard to get when we both know you’re a slut. You don’t gotta pretend with me, baby—”

You rolled your eyes, about to insult him but the sound of a bottle smashing to the floor before Rafe’s fist collided with the guy's face.

“Say that again,” Rafe growled, his voice deadly calm as he grabbed the guy by the collar, pulling him close. The crowd around you froze, the music blaring in the background as Rafe’s knuckles bled from the punch he’d just thrown.

The guy stumbled, trying to mumble something that sounded like an apology, but of course, Rafe wasn’t done. His jaw was clenched, his eyes burning with a fury that sent chills down your spine.

“Rafe!” you shouted, pushing through the frozen crowd to get to him. “Let him go!”

But he barely heard you. His focus was locked on the guy, like he was two seconds ago from throwing another punch. It took Topper and Kelce rushing over to pull him off before things escalated any further.

The guy backed away, rubbing his jaw, his eyes wide with fear. “I-I didn’t know, man—”

“I don’t fucking care. Get out of here!” Rafe yelled, cutting him off, his chest still heaving with rage.

You watched as the guy walked away, his tail between his legs. Your attention shifted to Rafe, who turned on his heel and headed towards the stairs. You followed him with your eyes as he ascended until he disappeared into one of the rooms upstairs, shutting the door behind him.

You glanced around, searching for Sarah. When you spotted her you waved to catch her eye. She looked over, and you mouthed, “I’m going to check on Rafe.” Sarah gave you a quick nod.

With a deep breath, you pushed your way through the crowd and made your way upstairs, the noise from the party fading into the background as you reached the top. The hallway was quieter, the air heavier. Without hesitation, you headed straight for the door you saw Rafe disappear behind. You didn’t even think to knock; there was no need for formality between the two of you. It wasn’t in your nature to tiptoe around Rafe, not when you’d known him your entire life.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He glanced up when you entered, surprise flashing briefly in his eyes before it was replaced with that familiar guarded expression.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, “What the hell is your problem, Rafe?” you told him, crossing your arms on your chest. “You can’t just go around hitting people!”

He stood up, glaring at you. “He deserved it,” he shot back. He turned away from you, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Did you hear the shit he was saying to you? You think I was just gonna stand there and let him talk to you like tha?”

You sighed, frustrated but not entirely surprised. This was Rafe—impulsive, overprotective, and always ready to throw a punch when it came to you. “Yeah, I heard it, Rafe—he was talking to me. And I could’ve handled it. I don’t need you acting like my knight in shining armor.”

His head snapped up at that, and he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “Really? You think you could’ve handled him? Because from where I was standing, he wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

You huffed, shaking your head. "That’s not the fucking point! You always do this. You’re always trying to play the hero when no one asked you to." You met his gaze with a hard stare of your own, refusing to back down.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he stepped even closer, closing the distance between you. His voice dropped lower, almost a growl. "Maybe I’m not playing. Maybe I actually give a damn when some asshole thinks he can talk to you like that."

His proximity made the air between you feel charged, and you had to fight the urge to step back. Instead, you held your ground, your heart pounding in your chest. "And maybe you should learn to pick your battles instead of flying off the handle every time someone so much as looks at me the wrong way," you shot back, your voice just as sharp as his.

His lips twisted into a smirk, though there was no humor in it—just frustration. "Pick my battles?" He echoed, his voice low and dangerous. "Like you would ever let me. Every time I try to protect you, you act like it’s some kind of personal offense. Like I’m doing something wrong by giving a damn about what happens to you, Y/N."

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter across your chest. "Because it’s not about me! It’s about you needing to feel like you’re in control of everything. You can’t just punch your way through life, Rafe."

"It’s not about control. It’s about not letting anyone treat you like that. I’m not gonna stand by and watch it happen. Not when it’s you."

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of his words hanging between you. You sighed, the fight slowly leaving your body. “You’ve always been like this, you know?” you said, your tone softening just slightly. “Even when we were kids. You were always ready to defend me.”

His expression softened, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, well, some things don’t change.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile. “You’re impossible, Rafe Cameron.”

He let out a low laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite behind it. The anger between you was fading. He infuriated you, but deep down, you knew his heart was in the right place—even if he had a habit of making things way more complicated than they needed to be.

Rafe’s eyes lingered on yours, the tension still there but different now. He stepped closer again, but this time, there was no anger in his movements, just something more... deliberate. His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. "You looked good tonight, by the way."

Your breath hitched, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with a smirk of your own. "You’re just now noticing?" you teased, though your voice came out softer than you intended.

"Trust me, I noticed the second you walked in."

You cleared your throat, breaking the intense moment between you two. “Let me see your hand,” you said, trying to refocus on something else.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his usual cocky smirk creeping back onto his face. “What? Worried about me now, princess?”

“Hardly, but you’re a mess and someone’s gotta clean you up before you bleed all over Topper’s sheets.”

He grinned, stepping back slightly and letting you grab his hand. His skin was warm under your fingers, and you tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened as you turned his hand over, inspecting the damage. His knuckles were raw, a few cuts oozing blood.

You glanced around the room, spotting a small bathroom attached to the guest room. “Sit down,” you ordered, nodding towards the bed. Rafe didn’t argue—surprisingly—but the amused smirk never left his face as he sat down, watching you with that intense, unblinking gaze of his. You walked over to the bathroom, rummaging through the cabinet until you found some bandages and antiseptic wipes.

When you returned, Rafe had leaned back against the headboard, legs spread slightly, his arms resting on his knees like he was waiting to be entertained. 

“Hold still,” you said firmly as you sat on the edge of the bed beside him, gently taking his injured hand in yours. 

"Careful," he teased, his voice low and husky. "I might start thinking you actually care."

You shot him a quick glare, your eyes narrowed. "Or maybe I just don’t want to deal with your whining if this gets infected."

He chuckled, the sound deep and almost... seductive. "Trust me, I’m not the whining type. You, on the other hand, love getting under my skin."

You ignored his comment, though the corners of your mouth twitched in amusement. “Here you go, telling lies. Unlike you, I am responsible—something you wouldn’t understand.” 

Rafe’s smirk widened, his blue eyes locked on yours as you worked. “Yeah? Is that why you spent half the night trying to avoid me?” He tilted his head. “You’re terrible at it, by the way.”

“Maybe I was avoiding you because I knew you’d do something stupid. And look, I was right.”

“So, you were watching me all night, huh? Didn’t realize I was that distracting.”

“More like I could sense the chaos coming from a mile away,” you shot back, the corner of your mouth twitching despite your best efforts not to smile.

“Admit it, you’d miss me if I didn’t cause a little chaos.”

You snorted, playfully nudging his good shoulder. “Miss you? I think my life would be way more peaceful.”

He gave a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest with his uninjured hand. “Wow. You really know how to wound a guy. If I wasn’t already bandaged, I’d need another one for my heart.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Please, Rafe. You’ve got an ego the size of this entire house. I think your heart’s just fine.”

He chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe. But you like me this way.”

“Oh, do I now?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “And what makes you think that?”

Rafe leaned in just a little more, that teasing grin still plastered on his face. “Because, no matter how much you complain, you’re always right here. Taking care of me. Telling me I’m an idiot. It’s kind of your thing.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though the sass in your voice was playful. “It’s called charity work, Rafe. I should be getting paid for dealing with you.”

He laughed, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back up. “Oh, I’ll pay you back. Trust me.”

You tilted your head, giving him a sly smile. “Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that?”

Rafe’s grin widened at your challenge, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He shifted a little closer, the air between you growing even more charged. “Oh, you’ll see, princess. But you’ll have to be patient. I know that’s not your strong suit.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you leaned back on the bed, crossing your legs. “Patience? With you? That’s asking for a miracle, Cameron.”

He chuckled, his hand resting just beside your thigh. “Miracle? More like a blessing. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and you know it.”

You shot him a look, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Best thing? Don’t flatter yourself. You’re like a stray dog that keeps following me around, begging for attention.”

Rafe smirked, leaning in so his face was closer to yours, his voice dropping low. "And you love the attention. Don’t act like you don’t.”

“Please, the only thing I love is the peace and quiet I get when you’re not around.”

He let out a mock gasp, putting a hand over his chest. “Ouch. Again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Dramatic again. Besides, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, that cocky grin never leaving his face. “Me? Can’t take it? You must be thinking of someone else, sweetheart. I can take anything you throw at me.”

You leaned in a little, matching his energy. “Anything? That sounds like a challenge.”

He tilted his head, his blue eyes locking onto yours, full of playful intensity. “It is. Go ahead, try me. What’ve you got?”

You pursed your lips, pretending to think for a moment before smirking. “Alright. How about this? For starters, you’re predictable. Every time something doesn’t go your way, you throw a tantrum or a punch, like you’re still a spoiled little boy.”

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter, if anything, it grew. “Predictable? That’s rich, coming from someone who’s always acting like she doesn’t care when we both know she does.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “I don’t care. I just know how to deal with your dramatics.”

“Right. That’s why you followed me up here, bandaged my hand, and now you’re sitting here flirting with me,” Rafe said, his tone smug.

You blinked, caught off guard for a second. “Flirting? Don’t confuse taking care of your stupidity with flirting, Cameron.”

He leaned even closer, his lips just inches from yours now, his voice a low, teasing whisper. “Oh, so this isn’t flirting?”

You bit your lip, fighting the heat rising in your cheeks. “No. This is me being nice because you’re too dumb to take care of yourself.”

“Sure it is,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that husky tone that always made your heart race. “You’re really bad at hiding it, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “Hiding what?”

Rafe grinned, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “How much you like being around me.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re delusional. I’m just here so Topper doesn’t kill you for bleeding all over his stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” Rafe replied, his thumb lightly tracing circles on your thigh, the gesture casual but full of tension. “And I’m sure you’d leave the second I’m patched up, right?”

You blinked, but your voice didn’t waver as you answered, “Absolutely. As soon as I’m done here, I’m out.”

“Really?” His eyes sparkled with challenge, his breath warm on your skin. “Then why haven’t you left yet?”

You faltered, trying to keep your cool, but his proximity was intoxicating. “Because... You needed help for your hand and I couldn't let you be miserable.”

Rafe chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. “Always gotta get the last word, huh?”

“Someone has to,” you shot back, but your voice was quieter, less sharp as the tension between you both thickened.

He watched you for a long moment, his gaze intense but soft at the same time. Then, with that infuriating smirk still on his face, he leaned back slightly. “Alright, I’ll let you win this round. But don’t think I didn’t notice how close you got just now.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed. “I was checking your hand, not getting close to you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess,” he teased, watching you as you walked toward the bathroom to put away the bandages.

You turned back to him, shaking your head with a smile. “You’re annoying.”

“And yet, you keep coming back,” Rafe quipped, standing up and stretching.

And he was right…

tags: @glors3 @mattyskies @cutiebuety @sumlovesjude @dilfluvr4ever @cooper8224 @octaviareina @imawhoretho @drewscoquette @cutiebuety @gracelynnmarielester @amourfolklore @gillybear17 @rafestaurusgf @meekmillsfrenchfries @auriellawp @urdreamgirl12 @katie-the-author @love1deandra @rafecameroninterlude @stargrltara @stupendousturt1e

[starsinthesky5]

nothing's gonna hurt you baby II part 1 || joe burrow x reader

description: loving what you do doesn’t always mean it loves you back—it takes more than it gives sometimes

a/n: oh my GOD this is so long. it wasn’t supposed to be this long 😃😃😃😃. pls don’t hate me lol. this might have been the longest time i spent writing a fic too which is insane but i mean the word count speaks for itself HA. i really hope this isn’t total shit.  but, so sorry I kept you all waiting for so long!! i really hope this was worth the wait :) i took my time with this one!

also, huge huge thank you to @sofferaddict for inspiring a chunk of this fic! you’re ideas and requests were PERFECT and i hope I did them justice :)

warnings: angst, language, allusions to sex, smut at the end  (👨🚲 does this make sense???)

word count: 28.5 k (IM SO SORRY YALL-)

nothings gonna hurt you baby mini series master list (previous parts found here

——————————————————

Walking into Arrowhead Stadium always creates a complex mix of emotions for you; a rich blend of excitement, nervous energy, and uncertainty. It was a feeling that seemed to linger in the air for hours to come, creating an atmosphere charged with both anxiety and thrill. This mix was a given considering the matchup that was taking place, Joe Burrow vs Patrick Mahomes. It was two of the best in the league going against each other, a rivalry that had captivated the entire football community and had become one of the most talked-about spectacles in recent years. Whenever the Bengals went head-to-head with the Chiefs, the tension was electrifying yet frightening. But it wasn't about fear of losing—true fans knew the Bengals were the Chiefs' biggest rivals for the past 4 years and were their biggest threats—it was more about fearing how intense this game would be, but that also created excitement. The excitement came from knowing that this matchup promised to deliver an intense, high-energy, and nail-biting game that would leave everyone on the edge of their seats.

However, this time, you were feeling more excited than usual. Normally, you’d be on the verge of throwing up while walking through the concourse at Arrowhead, the bright red seats in the stands acting as a warning sign that forcefully caught your attention as if something urgent or dangerous was about to happen in the next few hours. This time, however, the bright red seats produced a feeling of comfort and nostalgia, like everything was back to normal while also reminding you of the memories you had here in years past (some sweeter than others).

You weren’t sure why, but playing the Chiefs made things feel like they were truly back to normal, despite the terrible loss against the Patriots the week before. Maybe it was because Joe always played his best against KC, so this game might just light that fire inside of him he so desperately needed last week. Or maybe it was because you knew how last week's loss put the entire team on notice so today's performance should be near perfect and push things back on track since they knew what narratives were being tossed around in the media right now. 

Whatever it was, the bottom line was that you felt relaxed and confident—a complete 360 from how you felt last week before the game. 

And you weren’t the only one who felt this way today. Joe did too. 

For real this time. 

Flashback to last night 

“I miss you,” he softly said over the phone and pouted as you moved your phone back into your view and flipped over to your stomach on your bed. 

“I just saw you a few hours ago,” you giggled. “I drove you to the airport,”. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said while leaning back against his hotel bed's headrest. “But I miss touching you and feeling you next to me. That thing we did in the car was nice but that only made me more…you know…after we were done. I just miss you, all of you,”. 

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, remembering in vivid detail what transpired in the car before he left to go board the plane. What started as an innocent goodbye kiss quickly turned into a heated exchange that led to Joe pulling you to the backseat of the Porsche and having his way with you. Even though it had been a few hours, you could still practically feel his hand gripping your thigh right now, feel his hot breath against your ear, hearing his raspy voice chant your name breathlessly over and over. That’s how dazed you still were. 

“Simmer down, Burrow. Gotta save that energy for tomorrow,” you smiled. 

“I can’t help it when my girlfriend is the most beautiful woman on the planet,” he winked while threading his fingers through his frosted tips. “You're not just beautiful, you’re magnetic. There's something about you that draws me in and doesn’t let me go, not just your looks but the way you carry yourself–confident, sexy, and undeniably captivating. Your eyes are like liquor and your body’s like gold. One thing makes me drunk to the point where I lose all sense and the other makes me greedy for more,”. 

“Joeee,” you shied away from the camera and smiled, then hid your face in the soft pillow that smelled exactly like him–crisp and clean, with a hint of his natural musk, and a little spicy–which only made you miss him even more and caused your smile to drop. 

Yeah, you missed him too. How could you not? You had gotten so used to having him around all the time during the past 10 months and all of a sudden he’s not and is spending the majority of his time at the facility, that wasn’t something you were getting used to just yet. You were beyond excited that he could now do what he loved which he had been missing for far too long, but you missed him. You missed those peaceful evenings that you two spent together, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, and lounging on the couch while watching a silly movie. You missed those mornings when you’d get to wake up to his adorable smile and gentle kisses. You missed those late nights you two spent out in the backyard, staring up at the stars and talking about life. Now that football had fully begun, these things would become sporadic and you couldn’t help but miss him every single second he was away from you, even if you had just seen him just a few hours ago like today. 

“What? It’s true,” he smirked, snapping you out of your trance. “I can’t stay away from you, you know that. I just wanna be around you all the time because of the way you make me feel,”.

He wanted to be around you, he really did. But this is what he’d have to deal with for the next 5 to 6 months and it killed him to not spend as much time with you as he wished. The past 10 months were a blessing in disguise for him; even though he was far away from what he loved to do, he was with the person he loved to love. That’s all that mattered.

But now he was close to what he loved to do, but a little further from the person he loved to love–and that sucked. 

“Oh really? How do I make you feel?” you asked while peeking up from the pillow with a cheeky grin.

“Hmm,” he hummed and raised his eyebrow as he pretended to think about how you made him feel. He really didn’t need to think about it, the way you made him feel was so obvious to the point where even everyone around him could see it. 

Just that afternoon, after Joe finally got out of the car and made his way to the plane, Ja’marr and Tee noticed that Joe looked happier, livelier, and more radiant than normal. At first, they couldn’t put their finger on what made him feel like that, especially before a game like this where he’d normally be dialed in and visibly numb. But once they saw the Porsche drive away and a girl wave goodbye in the window, they knew exactly what got him to this point. 

They dubbed this the ‘Y/N glow’, a playful name for the look Joe had whenever he was around them and was giving off specific energy, a specific energy that they noticed he had around you. So whenever Joe showed up around the guys with this glow–without you by his side–they knew something must have happened before with you to make him like this. They applauded your talents, nothing could make Joe this visibly happy, not even football. The way he remained like this even when you weren’t around was remarkable, it goes to show the depth of your love for him and the profound impact you had on him.

That’s why Joe wanted to be around you at all times, the way you made him feel was irreplicable and so good that he was addicted to it, to you. You brought a smile to his face by doing the most minimal things, making him feel a genuine happiness that football could never bring him. You always had a way of making him feel better, even when he was so far gone that he didn’t even know how to pull himself out of that hole on his own. He needed you, he always needed you. Last week was the perfect example; he was almost too deep into that hole of anxiety and self-doubt and pushed you away again, but you once again came right in with no limitations and pulled him back out. He was so extremely blessed to have you in his corner, and he knew that. 

“You make me feel like I’ve already won,” he grinned. 

“Won what?” you bit your lip and asked, flipping around onto your back.

“The best trophy anyone can possibly win,”. 

“Are you calling me a trophy girlfriend?” you furrowed your brows and asked. 

“Oh, no. God no,” he laughed. “I mean, I feel like I’ve already won with you. The greatest thing anyone can have in this world is genuine, unconditional love. I have that…with you,” he said, his tone becoming more serious. “Winning you and your love is the greatest trophy, the greatest achievement I could ever have,”. 

“Even greater than a Lombardi?” you asked, a tear forming in your eyes because of the sudden severity of his voice. The combination of his voice and the emotions you were already feeling from being apart from him created a strong mix. If he wasn't currently on Facetime with you, you would’ve found yourself seeking comfort in his pillow, probably crying your eyes out. “Fuck, I miss him,” you thought to yourself. 

“Greater than a Lombardi, MVP, and Hall of Fame induction,” he nodded. 

“Damn, you really love me,” you giggled as you subtly wiped the tear from your eye, trying to prevent him from seeing that you were a little emotional because you didn’t need him to get distracted. 

“Really is an understatement. Loving you is like being on fire because it’s intense, all-consuming, and totally wild. It burns inside me, making my heart and soul come alive. You're the flame I never want to put out, the passion I never want to lose. You're the light in my darkest hours and the warmth in my coldest nights,”.

“You’re so sweet and poetic,” you blushed, giving him a love-struck smile as you gazed deeply into his eyes through the screen.  

“And you’re so damn cute,” he smiled as he got up from his bed to grab his water bottle.

You let out a soft chuckle, your heart swelling because of how gentle, warming, and loving his words directed to you were, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” you asked, getting up from your bed and walking over to the bathroom to fix your messy hair. 

“Surprisingly good,” he said as he moved around the room, sounds of shuffling and clanking filling the bathroom as you grabbed your brush. “Practice went well, as you know, and I feel pretty good about where I’m at. Physically and Mentally,” he nodded as he came back into the camera view. 

“That’s great, babe,” you smiled, feeling lighter after hearing him say that he feels good mentally. Last week was rough and you did not want to see a repeat of that ever again, especially after how long it took you to calm him down. 

“I was too hard on myself last week, can’t let that happen again or I think I’ll be borderline psychotic by week 18,” he joked. 

As you spoke, a warm, reassuring smile graced your face. "You're absolutely right. It's not healthy to load yourself with so much pressure. What's important is that you're giving it your all. I want you to know that I'm genuinely proud of you no matter what," you said gently, your hand reaching up to brush back a loose strand of hair.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiled. “Kansas City’s always a good game regardless. Tomorrow should be good. Not an easy game, but good. Unlike last week, I feel relaxed and confident. Since I’ve gotten hit a few times, that’s put my mind at ease about the wrist a little bit and I feel good. I’m hoping tomorrow’s game will bring that fire back into the guys, and even me,” he said before unscrewing the cap of his water and taking a big sip. 

“I know it will,” you said while grabbing a hair clip. “At least we know Ja’marr will be fired up no matter what,” you giggled, referring to Ja’marrs long-lasting beef with the entirety of Kansas City. 

He let out a soft laugh, “Ohhh yeah. He’s amped up for sure,”. He closed his water before returning to the camera with a cheeky grin, “I am too, to be honest, but not only because we’re playing the Chiefs. I’m excited to have you here for the game,”.

“Well, I’m excited to be there for the game,” you winked as you grabbed the phone and went back to the bedroom. “My flight’s in like an hour or so and Emma should be meeting me at the airport so we can fly to Kansas City together,”.

“I’m glad she could fly in for the game and keep you company,” he said, talking about your childhood best friend. “I didn’t want you to be all alone since my parents can’t make it and thank god and my big ass contract for letting me get you guys a suite.. I don’t ever want you sitting in the stands because those fans are intense as hell,”. 

“Tell me about it,” you said, widening your eyes. “They’re so fucking loud on TV and in person, it’s like on a whole other level of rowdy fans. I thought Philly had the rowdiest NFL fans but KC might give them a run for their money,”.

“Mmm, I think Philly still wins in that department,” Joe shook his head and said. "But Kansas City definitely knows how to bring the energy, especially when they're up against the Bengals. It's like they're out there with an extra level of fire and even insanity when they're up against us,”. 

“Well it’s a good thing you’re Joe Cool and can effortlessly cool them off by doing what you do out there,” you grinned, making dramatic hand movements to emphasize your words. 

“Thanks, Y/N,” he chuckled, threading his fingers through his soft frosted tips. “I’m gonna let you go now so you can get to your flight on time. I know you get stressed out at the airport so you should probably leave now to give yourself some grace time,” he smiled. “I think some of the guys are going down to grab something to eat from the conference room so I’m gonna go with them,”. 

"You’re probably right,” you laughed and nodded as you reached down and pulled up your sleek, black carry-on suitcase with silver accents. The suspense of the game weighed heavily on your mind as you spoke, "I don't know if I'll get a chance to talk to you tomorrow before the game, so I just wanted to say that you got this, Joe. I know you do. Remember to keep calm, take a deep breath, and dial in on the field. Don't think about anything else–forget about the roar of the crowd, the flashing cameras of the media, the distracting questions from the reporters. Block it all out and do what you do best out there. It's just you and the football,". 

"I love you so much," Joe said as if he was lost in some trance, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity, while giving you a tight-lipped smile. You could see the genuine affection in his eyes as he spoke those words. He valued your words, advice, and honesty more than anything else. 

"I love you too," you said, unable to contain your joy as a wide grin spread across your face. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy blush, responding to the intense gaze he fixed on you. His eyes spoke volumes, showing an overwhelming amount of love and endearing infatuation that made your heart flutter.

End of flashback 

Hearing him say that he felt good about today's game, with a confident smile on his face and a sense of determination in his voice, was all you needed to fully relax and feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. You noticed the way his eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and focus, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of positive energy. You were genuinely excited about the game this time, it was a completely different feeling than you had before last week's game when doubt and nerves had overshadowed your usual enthusiasm.

“Did I mention how amazing you look right now, Mrs. Burrow?” Emma teased as she snapped you out of your trance. You blinked your eyes a few times and realized you were now standing in your suite for the evening which was facing the Bengals sideline, not knowing when and how you even ended up in there. You looked down and noticed you were holding a glass, seemingly filled with a Vodka Cranberry Cocktail, not even knowing how this drink ended up in your hold. “Damn, he has me in a trance even when he’s not with me,” you thought to yourself as you looked back at Emma. 

“Em…,” you said to her while giving her a look.

“What? I’m just stating the facts, Y/N. I know that ring is coming sooner rather than later,” she winked. “Joe is so down bad obsessed with you, I really don’t think he can go another year without officially officially marking his territory with a big, beautiful diamond ring,”. 

"...Yeah," you giggled and nodded a few seconds later, feeling a little shy all of a sudden at the mention of how obsessed he was with you. The thought of marrying Joe filled your mind with a sense of euphoria and excitement, it was a beautiful dream you craved to turn into reality. The past 5 years with him were nothing short of a fairytale, and you two ruled the kingdom you had built together hand-in-hand with no intention of ever letting go. From the moment you first saw each other, you knew that this relationship would be different; and it was. It was different because you two had a connection that neither of you had ever had with anyone before. A kind of connection that only needed one small spark to fully catch on fire. And that fire burned no matter the circumstance: through the rain, the wind, and anything that threatened to blow it out. 

A connection that felt like it was written in the stars–something cosmic, fated, inescapable. Once those stars aligned, everything clicked into place your lives intertwined in a way that felt as natural as breathing. It wasn’t forced and it certainly wasn’t rushed; it was like you were both simply waiting for the universe to do its thing, to bring you together at the right moment. As time went on, you realized just how deeply ingrained that bond was. It wasn’t just the shared laughs, the stolen kisses, or even the way you could read each other without saying a word. It was the way you stood by each other through the storms, the way you’d hold each other’s hands when the weight of the world was too much to carry alone.

Joe had reassured you of his intent to marry you multiple times which only intensified the significance of Emma's words and made butterflies flutter in your belly. Joe knew you were his forever from the second he saw you, it was only a matter of time before he made it clear to everyone. You twirled a strand of your hair around your finger, feeling a warm blush creeping up your cheeks as you tried to hide your smile. “But he’s focused on ball right now and he knows I don’t care when it happens,”. 

“We’ll see,” Emma grinned, her tone of voice making you suspicious but you decided to let it go knowing this wasn’t the time to pick her brain about this subject. “But seriously, you look hot as hell right now. Best dressed WAG in the league by a long shot and man is Joe going to die when he sees this look. Taylor ain’t got nothing on you today,”.

"Hey," you snapped as your jaw fell, unable to hide your surprise. "No disrespect to Taylor. We love her, and I know she's on the enemy’s side tonight, but listen, her music has been with us through thick and thin, every breakup, situationship, and boyfriend. Without her, I don’t think I would’ve been able to get over James. Not to mention, I think she subconsciously wrote Call it what you want and King of my heart about me and Joe,".

“You’re right, you’re sooo right,” Emma said as she nodded. “But like, you look great,” she smiled as she gestured to your outfit. 

You were wearing a skin-tight, cropped, custom-made, orange Burrow jersey that fit like a baby tee. It was a unique piece, specially made to your measurements and featuring Joe’s name and number. Along with the jersey, you wore your trademark ‘9’ necklace, adding a personal touch to the outfit. The denim mini-skirt complemented the jersey top perfectly, adding a casual yet stylish element to your look. The custom white knee-high boots were a standout feature, with a beautifully embroidered ‘9’ on the bottom by your ankle, fashionably showcasing your team spirit. To top it off, you had a vintage Bengals hat on, completing the outfit with a touch of retro charm. Truth be told, you looked absolutely stunning and it was clear who you were specifically supporting tonight.

“I guess I do,” you smiled, taking a sip of the cocktail that was in your hand. 

You spent the rest of the time watching the pre-game warmups, observing how quickly fans flooded the stadium, and listening to how loud it was getting even though the game hadn’t even started yet. There were hardly any Bengals fans around your suite, honestly, all you saw was a sea of red around the stadium–not really surprising since not everyone wants to make a trip to Kansas City during week 2, especially after that loss last week. 

“Holy Red Kingdom,” Emma said in surprise, raising her eyebrows as she looked down and saw a crowd of Chiefs fans right in front of your suite. 

“Yeah,” you nodded as you looked down with her, your eyes scanning the crowd and only seeing ‘15’s and ‘87’s along with bright red shirts, hats, and jerseys. As you looked around the crowd and glanced down to the right, searching for any signs of orange, you heard loud, obnoxious shouting from below. At first, you thought it was just rowdy fans getting excited for the game about to start in a few minutes. But then the words that followed made you feel uneasy, and you quickly looked in that direction.

“Lookie, Lookie. Looks like we got a little Burrow fan up there,” one of the men said pointing up at you. 

“Really?” another man cackled, looking right up at you, his face contorting to a look of surprise once he saw you. “Oh shit!”. 

“No fucking way,” another man howled. “I didn’t think that joke of a quarterback still had any fans around. Especially after that embarrassing loss last week against the Patriots out of all teams. Like how do you play that bad against the fucking Patriots during Week 1? And wasn’t he all ‘I feel as good as I’ve ever felt in my entire career’ like two weeks ago? It sure as hell didn’t look like it last Sunday,” he laughed. “He was probably lying to save his ass,”. 

“That injury clearly fucked him up for good, there’s no coming back from that. He might as well just call it quits now before he gets hurt again and ends up stuck in the hospital bed, I’ve never seen a more injury-prone quarterback since Andrew Luck, Burrow should stop chasing that trophy and sit back down and think about his health,” he laughed, making a mockery out of Joe’s health and stamina. 

“I mean, it’s not like he had much going for him before the injury anyway. He came into the league as this hotshot, sparkly quarterback but has nothing to show for the hype that’s around him except for an embarrassing Super Bowl loss. Not to mention that he was overpaid by a lot I mean, with that contract you’d think he’d won two Lombardi’s back to back,” the other man laughed. “Bitch thinks he’s Pat Mahomes,” the man shook his head and hollered, earning loud laughs and words of agreement from the other men. 

“Hey!” one of the other men shouted up at you. “You’re supporting the wrong guy, sweet cheeks,” he slurred as he pointed back to the field. “A pretty lady like you needs to show up for a real man like Mahomes or Kelce. Hell, we’re probably better than that pussy, Burrow,” he snarled, the hungry look in his eyes making you feel incredibly uneasy.

“Oooooo,” another man teased. “She does look like she’d look hot in KC red. Not to mention how bangin’ her body is and that ugly orange isn’t doing her tits any justice,”.

Emma's eyes widened in shock as she whispered, "Oh my god," and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. The lewd comments from the drunk men made you both furious and highly uncomfortable, causing your shoulders to tense up with nervousness.

“Yeahhh,” the other man shouted, “Come sit down here with us, sweetheart. We can help you take that ugly ass Burrow shirt off and give you one of our shirts to wear…but that’s if you’re lucky,” he winks, earning high-fives from the other men for insinuating something like that. 

He was so obviously drunk. They were all drunk. 

Your heart raced in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as a wave of anxiety washed over you, leaving you paralyzed with hesitation. Your mind raced, desperately searching for the right words or actions in this strange situation. This was uncharted territory for you, something you had never expected having to confront so you had no idea what to say or do. 

“He’s a failure!”. “Complete waste of talent right there!”. “He can’t even throw like he used to!”. “Career went down the toilet as soon as he was drafted to Shittcinati!”. “He’s one hit away from being done for good!”. 

The insults echoed in your mind, each word leaving a harsh mark and adding to the weight on your shoulders you thought you got rid of over the past week. As the crowd quieted for the kickoff, the echoes of their insults lingered. During the chaos, you could only think about Joe, feeling his absence strongly. The hurtful words triggered familiar feelings of anxiety and worry that you had worked hard to overcome before stepping into the stadium and you didn’t know what to do.

“Y/N?” Emma asked as she grabbed your trembling hand. “Are you alright?” she asked as she gave it a gentle squeeze. 

“Y- yeah,” you lied as you felt your eyes well with tears. “I’m fine. It was just a bunch of drunk idiots, n- nothing to worry about,” you said to her while giving her a fake, rehearsed smile as you felt that pit in your stomach you got last week come back. 

“Are you sure? That was fucking disgusting and so uncalled for, I’m sure we can talk to someone and-,”.

“No.” you interrupted her and said, your voice heavy and almost scared. “I really don’t want to make a scene here and I don’t even think those guys knew I’m Joe’s girlfriend. I really don’t want to be the subject of those annoying headlines over this and make things even more distracting for Joe,” you swallowed. 

“But I-,”.

“Emma, please,” you pleaded as you looked into her eyes. “I’m fine,” you lied again, giving her false reassurance by pulling her in for a hug.

You were not fine. Joe. You needed Joe. The one person who could calm you down, get you to relax, the person who would be able to deal with this and shield you from the disgusting comments. “I need you right now,” you thought to yourself as you felt your throat tighten and tears threaten to spill out. You had never experienced anything like this before and although it was just a group of idiotic men that didn’t know you or Joe enough to be saying all of that, it still felt like a punch straight to the gut because the things they were saying were along the same lines of what Joe was saying to you last week, only they were saying it in a harsher more hateful manner. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to tell Joe about this, knowing that it would just become another distraction for him. 

“This is going to be a long game,” you thought to yourself after pulling away from the hug sitting back down in your seat, feeling the urge to shrink away and hide. The pit in your stomach mixed with your growing anxiety left a bitter taste in your mouth, making you feel exactly how you did last week during the game. 

It felt as if the protective bubble shielding you from the raging storm outside had burst, leaving you once again in the middle of the storm, feeling scared, anxious, and on the verge of being swept away by your thoughts.

“Fuck,” you thought to yourself. “I hope this feeling goes away,”. 

A few hours later - End of the Game

It definitely did not go away.

The comments from the drunk fans set the tone for you for the rest of the game. It seemed like everything went downhill from there–for you and for the team. Some exciting, explosive moments had you on your feet but those were tinted by the other, more unpleasant things that happened. 

You found yourself once again on the edge of your seat the entire game, but not because of the thrill or because you had adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was for the exact same reason as last week–you were scared, anxious, and upset. The game was neck and neck, a pure nail-biter as usual, and the Bengals put up one hell of a fight and honestly should have won the game, but they once again couldn’t do it.

They played good and way better than last week, but just not good enough. 

And then it came to Joe. The one person that had been on your mind since the game began. 

Flashback

"Oh my god!" you yelled as you shot up from your chair, your heart palpitating in your chest as you saw Joe go in for the QB sneak. You could see the determination in his eyes as he charged forward, only to get his shoulder rammed into by a defender. In that split second, you knew it was going to be a hard hit. Joe was brought straight to the ground, his helmet knocked off, and he was immediately crushed by several large opposing players. The impact echoed through the stadium as you breathed, praying he’d get up.

“Holy Shit,” Emma gasped next to you, her hand over her mouth. “I hope he’s okay, that looks like it fucking hurt,”. 

“Joe, please be okay,” you whispered to yourself, your entire body feeling as if it was just thrown into a familiar brick wall. Immediately, your mind wandered over to the moments he had gotten injured in the past, and what just happened in that play was very similar to what’s happened before. The feeling you got in your body just now was very similar to how you felt in those moments. It was as if you were thrown into the abyss, had your heart torn from your chest, or stabbed in the stomach. 

“Not again. I can’t do that again. He can’t do that again,” you thought to yourself as you felt your eyes pool with tears. “His fucking helmet flew off, Emma,” you said as you turned to her, your voice trembling and breaths getting shorter. “And…and his shoulder. The way he went down…,”.

“I know, I know,” she said as she rubbed your back, “But look, he’s getting up and he looks fine”. 

You looked back down to the field, watching as Joe grabbed his helmet and stood up with an emotionless look on his face. As you watched him from a distance, you noticed that there was no hint of a limp in his stride, no flexing of his wrist, and no visible signs of shoulder pain. It seemed like he was moving with relaxation and confidence, showing no physical pain as he prepared to rejoin the game.

“See? It’s okay. He’s okay,” she soothed as she swayed you back and forth for comfort. 

“Fuck,” you whispered as you slowly nodded, taking deep breaths to even out your heart rate, “He’s okay…He’s fine…,”. 

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Emma reassured. “Don’t worry so much. Joe’s a tough guy, a play like this isn’t going to hurt him. Especially now since he’s so so much stronger and tougher, ”. 

“You’re right,” you swallowed, trying to calm yourself down by continuing to take deep breaths and using your right hand to gently rub your left hand (the hand which had the veins that led straight to your heart)—a gesture that always calmed you down that Joe discovered. You rubbing your hand didn’t have the same effect as when Joe did it, but it was enough for now. 

“I just- they can’t do that again. He could’ve gotten really hurt,” you mumbled.

Even though he looked calm and normal, you started to feel more and more uneasy. At the same time, you began to taste something bitter in your mouth, and it got stronger with every breath.

End of Flashback

The trauma of witnessing his previous injuries had left you with a bit of PTSD. As a result, every time he fell or moved differently, you experienced intense anxiety and fear, believing that something may be seriously wrong. 

You had hoped that moment was the only time this evening you’d feel like this, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

The QB sneak was just one example from this evening.

Flashback 

“Yeah, and I thought about bringing Ryland but he had to go into New York this weekend with his brother for the Cage The Elephant concert,” Emma said as she took a sip of her cocktail. You two were talking about needing to plan a double date with the four of you (you, Joe, Emma, and her Boyfriend). She also mentioned that she wanted to bring him to the game this evening but he already had tickets for the concert with his brother and wished he could have joined you all. 

“Sooo, I take it you two are getting serious,” you giggled, wiggling your eyebrows. 

“What makes you say that?” she asked, taking another sip.

“We never do double dates, Em. Like ever,” you smiled. “Your exes were douches so you never brought them around Joe and me on purpose as a coupley thing but you are with Ryland so something has to be different,”.

“I could say the same thing about you, Mrs. Burrow, Mrs. Quarterback, Mrs. 9, Mrs. Cincinnati, Mrs. Shiesty,” she teased with a silly smile. “You never brought a boyfriend around me like that for the same reason and here we are, sitting in a suite your lover rented for you, watching him play football, while you’re completely decked out in his name and number.  You and Joe are like a package deal. Inseparable, attached at the hip, and so obsessed with one another. You are locked the fuckkkk in and I could not be more happier for you,”. 

“Emmmaaaaa,” you whined, hiding your face out of shyness. 

“I can just hear those wedding bells, Y/N,” she giggled, pulling your hands down. “Here comes the bride,” she sing-songed.

“Rigggghtttt,” you nodded, laughing along with her and glancing back to the field to see if the break was over and to see where your boyfriend was.

You felt your heart drop and a lump forming in your throat as your eyes locked onto Joe, who was standing crouched down on the field. "Oh my god," you choked, the words barely escaping your lips as you shot up from your chair, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You walked with shaky steps straight to the edge of the suite window, your mind racing with a million thoughts at once.

You saw Joe standing on the field, his back to you, and crouched down; almost as if he was holding his wrist. Your mind quickly flashed back to November 16th, M&T Bank Stadium, the night he got hurt and was in this exact position. “Oh my god,” you said again, this time more panic evident in your voice. 

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked as she looked at you.

“Joe…he looks like he’s holding his wrist?” you mumbled as you moved to the side to see if you could get a better look. “Emma, I think something’s wrong,” you said, feeling a wave of nausea come over you. 

Emma quickly got up from her seat and walked over next to you, taking a look at what you were talking about. “Are you sure?” she asked with a concerned look. 

“It- it looks like it…oh my god,” you said as you felt your throat tighten, then covered your face with your eyes. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening again. Not now,” you sniffled, trying to hold back tears.

Emma continued to look down at Joe with you, her eyes twinkling with amusement and her smile coming back once she got a better view of him. "Ohhhh, Y/N," she laughed next to you, her pleasant voice filling the air. She placed her arm around your shoulder, the warmth of her touch comforting and familiar, and gave you a gentle squeeze.

“What?” you asked her, peeking through your hands.

“Look down,” she said, pointing back down to Joe. 

You moved your hands down and slowly turned to your head to look at him and what you saw was completely unexpected. 

Joe was tying his shoes. 

That’s why he was crouched down. 

"He was... he was tying his shoes?" you whispered, feeling your heart start up again and a wave of relief come over you, which swept away the nausea. The sight of him crouched down, looping the laces and tying them into neat bows, reassured you that everything was okay. You have never been happier to see him tying his shoes, doing such a simple and ordinary task. 

“Looks like it,” she laughed, then looked back at you and saw your face relax. “You okay?”.

“I think so,” you breathed out, watching him stand back up and walk around like nothing happened. “I just got scared for a second. That position seemed a little too familiar for my liking,” you nervously laughed. 

“I get it. This stuff has to be stressful for you because of the wrist. It’s normal to get a bit of PTSD,” she said.

“I think I’ll be dead by Week 18 if I keep freaking out over these things,” you joked, placing your hand over your heart. 

Every time he did something different, like flexing his wrist or crouching down weirdly, rubbing a certain part of his body, or sporting a look of discomfort—you were scared shitless. The thought of him getting injured again and having to go through all the pain and suffering was your biggest nightmare. 

End of Flashback 

Then, it was Ja’marr’s situation on the field, a situation that had quickly escalated as everyone was running on pure adrenaline and anger. 

Even Joe, who usually keeps his calm in these scenarios. 

Flashback

“Ja’marr looks pissed, holy shit,” you said as you looked down onto the field and saw him visibly angry at the Refs. 

“Look at Joe trying to swoop in and save his bestie,” Emma laughed as she pointed towards Joe who was running to Ja’marr, then grabbing him to move him away from the Ref. 

“That’s Joe, all right,” you smiled, “Always being Switzerland,”. 

You watched as the situation on the field seemingly fizzled out after that, but then also watched as things quickly heated up again and Ja’marr was going right back in. You leaned forward in your seat, “What the fuck is even happening? Why is he so livid?” you said. 

“I think it might have been related to the play before but I think the fact that the Ref isn’t talking to him is making it worse,” Emma nodded.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, your eyes widening as you watched Joe come back into the situation, this time his entire body language showing that he was not happy. You watched as he pulled Ja’marr away from the Ref and then tried to speak with the Ref himself, only to be interrupted by Ja’marr again.

“Oh my-,” you began to say before your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of Joe roughly pushing Ja’marr away from him. 

"Holy fuck," Emma said in surprise, her eyes widening as she watched the intense scene unfold on the field. Both of you stood there, observing Joe extending an arm to try to keep Ja'marr away, but it was clear that his efforts weren’t working. Joe had to keep pushing Ja'marr back while also giving him a piece of his mind. "Y/N, I've never seen Joe that aggressive before on the field," she pointed out, her voice laced with concern as she continued to watch the tense exchange between the two players.

“Me either. He always keeps his cool, so something bad must have happened for him to get like this,” you agreed, the sight of Joe getting heated on the field both concerning and slightly enticing for you. 

“I didn’t know Joe got rough like that,” Emma laughed, trying to lighten the vibes by teasing you, and oh was it working.

“Very funny, Em,” you said, sending her an intense look and trying to hide your smile even though you were laughing internally at what she was implying. 

“What? I mean, if he’s like that out there I can’t even imagine how he’s like in-,” she started to say before you interrupted her. 

“Emma!” you laughed, your entire body shaking from your reaction. “He’d kill me if he knew we were talking about this,”.

“So that means what I’m saying is true,” she giggled while raising her eyebrow. 

You tried to hide your smile by gently pressing your lips together, but the corners of your mouth gave you away, turning up in a slight but unmistakable grin. Your cheeks, with a rosy, playful blush, gave off warmth, revealing everything without you needing to say a word.

“Daaaaamn, Joe,” she smiled. “Well at least now I know that you have a good sex life,” she winked. 

“Good? It’s fucking phenomenal,” you nonchalantly mumbled which earned a gasp from Emma. 

“Ahhh,” she shrieked, breaking out into a fit of laughter with you. 

Although you were taking a lighthearted approach to the situation, whatever happened on the field didn’t sit well with you. You weren’t sure what was going on with Ja’marr and although you were worried about him, your attention was mostly on Joe. His visible agitation, a stark contrast to his usual composed presence on the field, was concerning. He always kept his cool whenever things went sideways out there because he didn’t like getting worked up. After all, that diverted his focus, but this time it seemed like he lost all of his ability to keep calm–which only meant one thing. 

It was getting to him. This game was getting to him. 

End of Flashback 

As the game went on, he only got more and more frustrated. You could tell he wasn’t happy with his performance and the team’s performance by his body language and the grim yet frustrated look on his face. 

His unhappiness was justified, this game was brutal and although the Bengals had an answer for every play the Chiefs made, there were too many careless mistakes that ended up costing them the game. One thing in particular that you knew Joe would repeatedly think about was his fumble in the 4th quarter which the Chiefs capitalized on and got a free 6 points from. You knew he’d obsess over that play because it was his mistake that cost them the ball and why they got those points. 

If that fumble return didn’t happen, they had a good chance of winning the game, and you knew that thought would haunt Joe for the rest of the night. 

You felt awful about the entire thing, how the team struggled against them, how Joe struggled against them, how their ignorant mistakes that should’ve been cleared up were costing them this important game. 

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. 

Flashback to the last few seconds of the game 

“I just…I can’t believe we lost,” you said as you blankly stared out onto the field, watching as the clock painfully ticked down. “We were so close…he was so close, I..,” you started to get choked up and said, clutching your ‘9’ necklace in the process. “And he looks so..he looks so sad and disappointed,”. 

Joe.

That is literally all you could think about right now. Not the team, not the fans, not the careless mistakes, not the fact that you lost the game by 1 point and a few bullshit referee calls. 

Just Joe. 

“I know, Y/N. I know,” Emma said as she placed a comforting arm around your shoulder and let you lay your head on her shoulder. 

“And Joe’s probably already beating himself up for this and-,” you began to say before you were interrupted by loud, obnoxious yelling again. 

“How does it feel, girls?” the fan laughed as the same group of men from earlier looked up at you and Emma.

“I swear to fucking god,” Emma whispered before speaking up, “Can you all just shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn lives? Leave her alone you miserable freaks,”. 

“Oooo, someone’s getting defensive,” the other drunk laughed. 

“They seem so sad, awww,” the other man mocked in a child-like voice. “That’s what happens when you support the wrong fucking guy, sweetheart,”.

“He was a shitty quarterback, still is a shitty quarterback, and will forever be a shitty quarterback. You got the short end of the stick, babe,” the other man laughed while raising his cup in the air. “It ain’t too late to switch teams…or switch shirts,” he winked.

“Wait a second,” one of the men said while looking down at his phone. “Holy fuck, look at this y’all,” he said to the other men as he turned his phone around.

“That girl up there is Burrow’s girlfriend. Just came up on my feed,” he said as he glanced up at you and showed you the picture of you and Joe from the sidelines at the last home game which made it onto some sports tabloid. 

“No freaking way!” one of the men obnoxiously laughed. “This bitch is his fucking girlfriend? That’s even more embarrassing for her. Supports a shitty ass team with a lackluster quarterback and is dating him? Man, your standards must be low as fuck,”. 

You held your tongue, clenching your fists to stop yourself from defending Joe and yourself. You didn't want to create a scene, but the want to speak up was strong. Your eyes burned with built-up tears and you knew that if you let them fall, you wouldn't be able to stop. “Please stop,” you thought to yourself, your entire body telling you that you needed to be in Joe’s arms. His warmth, his touch, and his words were what you needed right now. 

"Damn, they’ve been together since his days down in Louisiana. That’s like what? 5 years? Damn, he didn't even bother to put a ring on her finger either. So not only is he a bad football player, but he's also proving to be an even worse boyfriend," one man chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to put a ring on her finger. He probably knows she’s a gold digger and is only with him for the money and fame. I mean, look at her? She looks like a slut and is practically asking for all eyes to be on her. Attention whore at it’s finest,” he cackled. 

“Or maybe it’s because Burrow wants to keep his options open. He has to be getting models thrown at him left and right, ain’t no way he hasn’t swooped in on one while being with her. He’s definitely keeping his options open until a hot enough chick comes around and he can ditch this girl. And if one doesn’t, he’ll settle for her and have his homemaker around,” one man laughed. 

“Please…stop,” you whispered, your bottom lip trembling from the anxiety that was spreading through your body. 

“Y/N…let’s just go,” Emma whispered in your ear as she noticed the pain in your eyes. 

“Look at her face, I mean she looks fucking embarrassing,” the man snarled, pointing up at you. “You got something to say or are you as incompetent as your little boyfriend?”. 

“Burrow needs to put that trash to the side and date someone more on his level,” another man howled. “If football doesn’t work for him—which it clearly isn’t because he succckkkkssss,” he yelled. “Fucking a supermodel will give him a lengthy life in the public eye at least,”. 

"Sorry babe, this is what happens when you come into the Reedddddd Kingdommm," the other man said with a sly smile, his voice laced with a hint of mischief as he sang that horrid, cheesy, ear-bleed-inducing tune, his words echoing through your mind along with everything else that was said. 

“Don’t say sorry to her? She knew what she walked into when she showed up in that god-awful number, color, and name,” another man laughed, holding his plastic cup of beer in the air.

You thought he was just raising his cup, but you were so wrong. “Go back to Shittcinnati, slut!” he yelled, throwing his cup at the shield of your suite. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Emma yelled as she quickly pulled you back from the window, both of you watching the cup hit the window and the beer splash everywhere against the shield.

"W- what," you stammered, your voice trembling with fear and confusion. You felt your throat tighten again as panic set in, and your stomach churned with unease. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to make sense of the overwhelming emotions washing over you.

“Hell no, we’re leaving now. This is fucking disgusting,” Emma said as she left your side, grabbed your things, and then led you out of the suite. You were so in shock that it felt like your mind had detached from your body and as if you were watching everything happen from a distance, unable to fully process what was going on.

End of flashback 

You were entirely zoned out for at least 10 minutes as Emma led you down the narrow, dimly lit hallway to the locker room area to see Joe.  It was like you were trapped in a dark, windowless room, the air filled with the smell of sweaty players and damp towels. You didn't know where to go, what to do, or what to say. You felt lost, alone, and out of it, as if the world around you had faded. "What the hell just happened?" you asked yourself, getting lost in the endless abyss that was your thoughts to the point where you barely heard Emma tell you she was going to the bathroom. Your brain wasn’t comprehending what had just happened, but your heart was and it hurt. Their comments hurt, the look in their eyes hurt, and you were hurt. 

“Y/N?” a heavy yet gentle voice said which snapped you back to the present. You turned your head and saw Joe walking towards you, your face quickly turning to a livelier, happier expression to hide your true feelings, he didn’t need to see you like this; not now. His feelings were what you needed to focus on, and given the kind of loss they just had, you knew he had a lot of feelings; yours weren’t as important. 

He pulled you into his chest, tucking your head in his neck and he wrapped his arms around you, “I missed you so much,” he smiled, his strained voice and body telling you how tense he was even if he tried to hide it with his smile.

"I missed you too," you mumbled against him, the rise and fall of his breathing providing a sense of comfort as you felt yourself melt away in the safe bubble that his presence always provided you. The warmth of his embrace surrounded you, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. 

He let go of your waist and moved his hand up to your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. His warm lips against yours felt like a breath of fresh air, a breath of fresh air he had no idea you desperately needed. Joe immediately sensed the tension in your body as he kissed you. Normally, you melted into him, but this time your posture was rigid, your shoulders stiff, and your movements hesitant. His lips brushed against yours, but he could feel how dry and cracked they were, a telltale sign you’d been anxiously biting at them for hours. Joe knew this habit all too well; it was something you did when you were nervous, anxious, or lost in thought. 

After lingering for a few seconds, he gently pulled back, his brows furrowed with concern. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to look away. He could see past the surface–the forced calm and the faint smile. There, in the depth of your eyes, he found what you were trying so hard to hide. The pain, the weight of anxiety, the shadows of doubt–he saw it all.

"Something's wrong," he said quietly but firmly, his voice low. He didn’t look away, holding the gaze as if he dared you to deny what he already knew. His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek as he waited for you to let him in.

“N- nothing’s wrong,” you said as you gave him a faint smile, your smile and voice not convincing enough. 

“Y/N, I know you. I know you better than you know yourself, remember?” he smiled as he echoed what you said to him last week, “Are you okay?” he asked as he tucked your soft hair behind your ear. 

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, not wanting to burden him with your emotions since you knew he already had enough to deal with on his own. But you knew you had to tell him because you couldn’t deal with this on your own. You needed him.  

“No,” you replied with full honesty, tears pooling in your eyes as you thought about everything that happened again. You stared deeply into his tired blue eyes, noticing that there was something he was hiding from you too. “Are you okay?” you asked him, praying he didn’t brush you off like he did last week. 

“No,” he quickly replied with the same honesty you gave him, his face dropping once he admitted that he wasn’t okay, and you knew exactly why. “But we can talk about that back at home,” he added, a wave of relief washing over you once you heard him say that because that implied he wasn’t going to shut you out again.

“O- okay,” you nodded as you felt him move his hand down to yours, then pull you over to a more secluded area away from the staff, players, and anyone that would overhear anything that was meant to be private. He saw the look in your eyes and that set off a siren in his head, something had happened and you were hiding it from him. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Joe asked again softly as he turned to face you, his voice laced with concern. His hand found yours, his fingers gently rubbing circles on the back of your left hand in an absentminded but soothing gesture that he knew would calm you down. “You look shaken up,” he continued, his brow furrowing as his eyes scanned your face for any clue you might give him. “Did something happen that you’re not telling me about?” His voice was gentle, but the worry in his tone was obvious. His thumb traced slow, rhythmic patterns across your knuckles, a silent reassurance that he was here and that he wouldn’t let go until you told him what was weighing on you.

You took a deep breath before looking into his eyes again, seeing that it was just Joe. You could talk to him; you could talk to him about anything because he made it very clear to you that he was always going to be there for you no matter what. He was your safety net, you could fall back and he would catch you every time. 

“Something…something happened up at the suite,” you began to say, Joe’s eyes instantly softening because he knew what you were about to say. His biggest concern, his biggest fear when it came to you and football had come to life. 

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself before beginning to remember everything. The words came out slowly at first, but once you started, it felt like a dam had burst. You told Joe everything–their horrible comments, their slurred insults, the throwing of the drink (which really pissed Joe off), and the crude remarks they’d made about you both. Every vile comment they tossed around about you, about your relationship, seemed to sting more as you repeated them. 

Joe stood silently, his face a mixture of pain and anger, but his hand never left yours. As you spoke, you could feel the tremble in your voice, the knot tightening in your chest as you tried to fight back your tears. It was clear that repeating everything was breaking something inside you. You paused for a moment, your voice cracking as you glanced up at him and tried to read his reaction.

It broke Joe’s heart to see you like this, struggling to hold yourself together. His chest tightened as he watched you fight back tears, trying to stay strong while reliving something that clearly hurt you so deeply. Each word you spoke felt like another blow, not just to him, but to you, and it killed him that he hadn’t been there to protect you from it.

“Y/N…I’m so sorry,” he softly said as he pulled you into his arms, your tears threatening to come out from this and the way he rubbed gentle circles around your back. “I’m so-,” he started to say before he got choked up. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he finished. 

“It’s okay, Joe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you hid your face in his chest. 

“No, it’s not,” he said, his voice laced with anger now that he was realizing what happened. 

The fans. The fans of the sport he plays. They hurt the most important, valuable, and special thing in this world. They hurt you.

Joe could feel the anger boiling under his skin as he fought back the urge to go find these assholes and teach them a few things about what happened when they messed with the love of his life. He was also considering going out and finding the head of security or someone who handled these things and ripping one to them, but once he felt how you were shaking in his arms, he let those thoughts go. He knew you needed him more than you needed to see those assholes’ heads on a platter which is why he kept his anger inside and instead focused on comforting you. 

“I’m gonna see if I can get out of this conference so we can just go home,” Joe said after he pressed a comforting kiss to your head. 

“N- No,” you said as you moved your head from his chest. “I don’t want you to skip out on it because of me,”. 

“But baby-,”.

“Joe, no. Please,” you pleaded as you cupped his cheeks and ran your thumbs along his soft skin. “I’m going to be fine, I promise. You still have a job to do and I don’t want to take you away from that,” you said as you gave him a small smile.

His heart broke as he saw your bloodshot eyes, knowing he was the reason you were in this situation. He felt so guilty, realizing that if it weren’t for his presence in your life those men wouldn’t have said such awful things to you. 

What hurt him even more was knowing he couldn’t be there for you the way you truly needed. He could listen, but it wasn’t enough. He felt helpless, wanting to fix everything but knowing all he could do right now was hold your hand while you tried not to fall apart.

“Are you sure? I don’t fucking care about standing in front of a bunch of reporters who are going to ask me the same exact question 10 different times. I care about you and making sure you’re okay,” he said as he placed his hands on yours and gave them a gentle squeeze before kissing your palm.

You took a deep breath and then looked back into his eyes, seeing deep anger & sadness in them. Although you wanted him to skip and comfort you, you didn’t want to take him away from what he had to do. You never wanted to take him away from football. “Positive. Go do what you have to do, I’m going to be fine. Besides, I should get going for my flight,” you said, trying to give him a reassuring smile.

He took a deep breath as he felt himself being pulled in two different directions. He wanted to stay with you so badly but one, he knew you wouldn’t let him, and two, he wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to skip the conference. He gave himself a mental slap out of guilt for leaving you before giving you a small nod, “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he added as he pulled you back into his embrace. “I love you,” he said as he dropped a kiss on your forehead. 

You pressed a gentle kiss against his neck before tucking your head back into his chest, “I love you too,” you mumbled. The heat of his skin radiated against your cheek, and it only made you feel worse. You knew that the warmth wasn't just physical; it mirrored the anger and frustration building inside him, the emotions he was trying to hold back for you.

“Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby,” he whispered in your ear before holding you tighter. “Not as long as I’m here,”. 

You took another deep breath as you felt yourself melt away in his arms, wishing for him to never let go because this hug was the only time you felt at ease all day, but you always had the worst luck. 

“I gotta go,” he said softly, pulling away from the hug. The look on your face stopped him for a few seconds–it was a mix of hurt and longing that pulled at his heart. Every instinct in him screamed to pull you back into his arms and never let go, but he forced himself to step away, even though it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done.

“Okay,” you nodded, looking down at your feet as you took another deep breath and tried to hold back your tears for maybe the 50th time in the past hour.

He used his hand to lift your chin up before cupping your cheek again and pulling you in for another kiss, this one filled with passion & reassurance. As he pulled away, he whispered “Everything’s going to be alright,” against your pink lips. “I promise,”.  

Just before stepping into the conference room, he looked back at you. His heart dropped as he saw you close your eyes and take a deep breath, your hands subtly moving to wipe away the tears you thought you had hidden from him. 

“I hate this fucking city. She doesn’t deserve any of this,” Joe thought to himself as he turned around and walked into the room, the tension in his body palpable as he struggled to keep his cool. 

No one could disrespect you like that and get away with it. Joe wasn’t going to let it happen, even though he knew you didn’t want him to say anything because you wanted to avoid a scene. His protective instinct was stronger than his desire to keep the peace, it was always that way with you.

A half-hour later 

The next half-hour passed by quickly and before you knew it, you were back on the plane and heading home. Joe had chartered you and Emma a private plane for your trip home and at first, you were slightly annoyed by his grandness–telling him that you didn’t need all this and that you were just a girl and could go on a normal flight like everyone else–but now had gained a new-found appreciation because you really didn’t want to be around other people right now. This private flight gave you the quietness you so badly needed, or so you thought. 

You changed into something more comfortable, slipping into one of his sweatshirts that still carried his comforting scent, a comfort that helped calm you for the moment. Emma was curled up in the back, taking a power nap while you scrolled through your phone, watching clips from the game. The familiar sounds and sights provided a distraction, even if just for a little while.

You found yourself laughing at a clip of Joe making a funny face on the sidelines, “His football faces are hysterical,” you mumbled to yourself before you saw a notification pop up on your screen.

It was a text from your sister with a link to a tweet. 

your sister: link 🔗 

your sister: what’s going on??

You raised your eyebrow out of confusion before tapping on the link, your eyes widening as you saw the caption of the video that was tweeted. 

“Click here to see a rare statement made by Joe Burrow regarding his personal life and his girlfriend, Y/N,”. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, feeling your stomach churn. A wave of nausea washed over you, tightening your insides and catching you off guard. 

When you clicked on the video, you felt the wave of sadness come back as you saw Joe standing at the podium. He looked tired and worn out, with his face showing how exhausted and defeated he felt. As you watched him, you felt a sense of worry and concern, realizing the seriousness of the situation. 

"How frustrating is this loss, Joe?" a reporter asked him.

You watched him take a deep breath before answering the question, hesitance clear in his body language. “As frustrating as I’ve had,” his words were weighed down by the burden he carried in his heart. “This one stings a bit, we just couldn’t get it done. Felt good about the game plan, I was seeing it well…uhh..you know, just didn’t do enough to get it done,”. 

You had a single tear running down your cheek, showing that the strong emotions you were trying to hold back were breaking through the wall you built. His words painted a picture of pain, a picture of pain you had never seen. He wasn’t acting like his usual self and you had never seen him so low after a loss, and that’s including the Super Bowl. Was this because of you? Or was this because of the game?

Whatever it was, you could tell he was hurting. He was hurting badly.

“Where do you go from here? 0-2 isn’t unfamiliar territory for you, but where does Joe Burrow go from here? How are you feeling? What is the level of urgency?” another reporter asked him, Joe’s eyes dropping down to the side as he avoided looking into the reporter’s eyes.

“I need to give him a hug,” you thought to yourself as you let out a soft sob. You just wanted to take all of his pain away, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to feel like he let anyone down like this loss was all on him. He didn’t deserve to hurt like this. 

“Uhh,” he nervously mumbled. “I still feel good, you know…There’s a lot of work to be done, a lot of things to fix,” he sighed as he looked down for a few seconds. “The urgency is very high. We just need to go out and get a win. We have to do better, I…I have to do better,” he added, his shaky voice breaking your heart. His voice cracked on the last part, a sound you hadn’t heard from him before. It was subtle, but enough to break your heart. The vulnerability was right there just beneath the surface like he was walking on the fine line between keeping it together and falling apart. His eyes shimmered in the bright lights of the room–though no tears fell–and for a second, you thought he might break, but he held it in. 

What you saw was the kind of pain that came from someone who felt like they were carrying the world on their shoulders and didn’t know how much longer they could keep standing.

The clip then cut to the end of his press conference. Usually, he’d glance around the room before saying, “Thanks guys” and walking off the podium, but this time he didn’t exactly do that. He did his normal look around the room, but instead of walking off, he spoke up again. 

“Before I go, I just wanted to say something and I know this is very uncharacteristic of me but this is the only way I could think of getting this across,” he said as he looked around the room for nods of approval, which he got. 

He couldn’t keep it in, he had to say something. 

“I know I usually don’t talk about my private life or my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said as his eyes drooped to the floor but quickly moved back up. “And I do that to protect her and a part of my life that I keep very close to my heart, but silence can only protect things for so long. She’s been to every single one of my games for the past 5 years and not once has she ever felt scared, harassed, and disrespected–but she did tonight and I couldn’t do anything to help her.

So that’s why I need to say this,” he continued, his voice becoming stronger and more determined. “If you have something to say about me, my career, my life–literally anything,” he paused, gripping the podium even tighter as if it were the only thing keeping his emotions in check. “Say it to my face.”

There was fierceness in his tone now, a protective edge that cut through the room. “Y/N didn’t sign up for this life. I did,” he said, his voice stable and full of confidence. His eyes scanned the crowd, daring anyone to say anything to him. 

“The awful things that were said to her this evening are things I would have never thought would be said to her, but here we are,” he sighed. “And I know you all are probably confused as to what I’m talking about, but there are people out there who know exactly what I’m talking about and that’s what matters. In all the years that she’s been with me, not once has she ever been in this position before, and the fact that this happened here? Tonight?” he added while shaking his head, his piercing eyes now filled with fire. 

“She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this just because she supports me. So from now on, if anyone has something to say, leave her out of it. The fans tonight…they should be ashamed of themselves for harassing a girl that they don’t even know. That’s not going to earn you any brownie points with anyone. It’s just downright disgusting, pathetic, and embarrassing. This woman has been by my side through thick and thin, through every single up and down since my first year at LSU. She knows me better than anyone does, and she’s the single most important thing to me—even more important than football. She’s my support system, my best friend, home in human form, my person,” his eyes darken, anger and protectiveness mixing together. 

“Nobody has the right to make her feel unwelcomed because she’s my girlfriend. Nobody has the right to pass any lewd comments about her. Nobody has the right to say anything about our private relationship. If I ever hear anyone say a single thing about her, I’m not going to just brush it off,” he said, his words as sharp as the look in his eyes. “I protect the things I love which means I will protect her no matter what. Call me out, insult me, trash my name all you want. But I draw the line at Y/N. If you have anything to say, say it to my fucking face. Leave her alone,” he said before pausing for a few seconds. He held the silence that followed for a few more seconds, the severity of what he was saying took everyone by surprise because they had never seen Joe like this. The looks on all their faces told him that they heard him loud and clear even though none of this was directed at them. Then, with a last look at the room, he pushes away from the podium, his broad shoulders tense and stiff from anger, and walks off without another word.

“Oh my god,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears that were rapidly sliding down your cheeks. “Oh my god,”.

You couldn’t believe he actually said something, and he said it so publicly. 

Joe was never one to speak so candidly about his personal life, especially when it came to you. He was always careful, intentionally private, keeping the most intimate parts of his world hidden away from the scrutiny of the outside. It wasn’t that he didn’t want people to know how much he cared about you–if anything, it was the opposite. He knew all too well the potential effects of letting everything out in the open; the extreme opinions, the relentless criticism, the intrusion into your lives that could come crashing down if he let his guard down for even a moment.

He always tried to shield you from that. His love wasn’t about grand displays or public statements; it was in the quiet moments, the gentle looks, and the way he held your hand just a little tighter when the world around him was too loud. He kept you out of the spotlight as much as he could, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted to protect you from the ugly side of his world–the part that didn’t care about your feelings or boundaries. 

But even Joe knew that silence could only go so far. Eventually, its weight would press down, creating a wall between you and the life he lived every day. And tonight, when you felt disrespected and harassed just for being there for him, it broke the carefully kept distance he’d worked so hard to build.

So now that he had actually said something, you couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You were a lowkey kind of girlfriend; the majority of fans knew you were dating Joe but you were never the kind of girlfriend to flaunt that you had the most desired NFL player wrapped around your finger. What he just did…what he just said put the spotlight on you and you were terrified that this would do more harm than good. Especially for him. 

But you knew that this was Joe. 

Your Joe.

You knew how much he tried to keep this part of his life away from the public eye and the fact that he went out and said something was enough to tell you that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. He wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you, he meant what he said. 

Nothing was going to hurt you as long as he was with you. 

An hour or so later 

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Emma said to you as she pulled you in for a hug, swaying you back and forth on the doorstep of your home. 

“Are you sure you can’t stay until tomorrow?” you asked as you pulled away from the hug.

“I wish I could but you know I have that meeting in the morning,” she pouted as she picked up her bag. 

“Right,” you nodded. “Get some sleep on the flight, okay? It’ll be pretty late by the time you get back home and you need to be fresh tomorrow for your big meeting,” you added.

“You need to get some sleep too, Y/N,” she said while patting your back. “I know Joe is only an hour or so behind you, but you should get some sleep. Today was rough,”. 

You wished you could get some sleep, but your mind was moving at the speed of light right now so sleep was completely out of the question. You were wide awake. “I’ll try,” you lied with a faint smile. You knew Joe would be wide awake too, his brain was probably moving faster than the speed of light and you could just picture him staring out of the plane window, jaw clenched and eyes focused as he thought about everything over and over. He’d go through the motions of what went wrong, then run through it again and try to find ways he could’ve fixed it–even though the game was longgggg over.

But that was just Joe. This was a part of his process and there wasn’t much you could do other than be there for him whenever he got out of his head and needed someone to talk to.

“Don’t worry too much,” she added with a sincere smile. “Everything will be fine as long as you have Joe with you,” she said, her words matching exactly what Joe said to you earlier and what he showed during his press conference. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “I know,”.

She was right though, it would be fine as long as he was by your side. You needed to keep reminding yourself that he wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt you. 

—

After finishing up your conversation with Emma, you walked her to her waiting Uber and exchanged one last goodbye before watching the car pull away. As you came back into the house, you sank down onto a barstool at the kitchen island, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions and thoughts that needed sorting.

You thought that Joe would most likely be in a mood once he got home since he had all the time on the plane to drive himself insane by reliving the game over and over. You hoped his mood would be slightly better than how it was last week after the game, not knowing if you had it in you to deal with everything if he came home with the same mindset and attitude as last week.

Add the fan situation to the mix and then you had the perfect recipe for a ‘stand-off angry Joe’ who would blame himself for absolutely everything and push you away while he self-destructed. You knew he would blame himself for the drunk idiots and their disgusting words towards you even though it was far from his fault, and you knew that it wouldn’t be easy to get him to move past it. You just couldn’t have him shut you out again, you needed him to talk to you more than anything this time. 

You shook your head, “Stop, Y/N. He said he’d talk to me once he got home and he meant that. He knows that he can’t put himself in that situation again and shut himself down. I don’t need to worry,” reminding yourself of what he said to you earlier and the week before. “If he happens to be in a mood then I just need to do something to stop him from being in a mood. He’ll open up to me on his own terms, I can’t push him too hard,” you nodded as you looked up. 

You wanted to talk to him about everything more than anything, wanted to pick at his brain and allow him to open up to you, but you knew better than to push him too hard. He hated being cornered, but you also couldn’t let him hide under his shell. Easing him into it and allowing him to naturally come to you is what you needed him to do. If he came back in a mood, you knew you’d need something to act as a buffer, something to soak up the weight of his emotions before they pulled him back to the edge like last time. You needed to do something to ease his tension while distracting him for a little bit before he started to unpack the weight of his emotions onto you. 

Your eyes moved to the TV, putting on one of his favorite movies would work, right?

“No, he’d just zone out and think about the game,” you whispered to yourself as you slipped off the barstool. 

Your eyes then moved to the couch, cuddling would work, right?

“Mm, Mm,” you shook your head. “Quiet time and cuddling would let the voices in his head get louder,”. 

Your eyes moved toward the kitchen, and suddenly an idea sparked as your eyes landed on the small orange pumpkin decoration you’d placed by the knives–an early start on your fall decorating. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the solution hit you. "Pumpkin pie," you whispered to yourself, a grin rising on your face. "Obviously."

Pumpkin Pie was more than just a dessert for Joe; it was more of a feeling of comfort or a reminder that even when everything felt like it was crumbling, there would still be little joys to be found in the little things. You could never get sick of the childlike smile on his adorable face when he gets the first whiff of cinnamon and nutmeg. You wanted to see him that happy all the time, and you were determined to make that happen. 

“Hopefully that’ll work if he comes back acting like The Hulk,” you giggled as you walked into the pantry and started gathering all the ingredients you’d need to make his favorite dessert. This was a great distraction (for the time being) for him because it would let him drift away from football for a little bit. This was a great distraction for him and an even better distraction for you, even if you didn’t want to admit it. Deep down, you were still shaken up over everything that happened at the game, and sitting in this big, empty house with nothing but your thoughts for company? You knew exactly where that would lead. You had just as much of a tendency to spiral as Joe did, maybe even more than him sometimes. 

You might not have realized that by focusing so much on his emotions, you were ignoring your own. You were used to being the calm and steady support for him, but it took a toll on you. Comforting him and worrying about his stress made you bury your own feelings, convincing yourself that they didn't matter as much as his.

By concentrating on him, you could avoid dealing with your own feelings, which is exactly what you’re doing right now. But eventually, everything you were holding back would catch up with you. For now, it was easier to pretend that baking this pie is enough, that it's the solution to both your problems.

—

The hour passed by pretty quickly as you worked on the Pie for Joe. You found yourself forgetting about the game as you bounced around the kitchen while you made the sweet dessert for him. Baking was often a big stress reliever for you and you always found yourself letting loose while accidentally covering yourself in loads of flour and sugar. You loved to bake and Joe loved to eat what you baked, it was the perfect dynamic. 

You had placed the Pie in the oven not too long ago and were now cleaning up, the TV in the background however had quickly snapped you out of your playful daze. 

The channel on the TV was showing an analysis of the game and your ears couldn’t help but perk up every time they mentioned Joe. They were showing constant replays of all the moments Joe was frustrated during the game, on the field, and on the sidelines. They were talking about how the Bengals should have won this game and how Joe outperformed Patrick. They were saying that this loss would for sure put a dent into the team’s confidence going forward, even going as far as talking about how their playoff odds were rapidly decreasing as well.

“A bunch of fucking idiots,” you mumbled under your breath as you stared up at the TV, your eyes welling with tears yet again without you even realizing it. How could they count them out so early? How could they count out Joe so early?

Then the TV showed a clip from his post-game press conference which really did it for you because you had to hear him mention the events from earlier that you were trying so hard to ignore. 

“It was just not a good day overall for Joe. He didn’t play as well as he usually does, even made some terrible mistakes that were very unlike him to do…and his post-game conference showed a side of him none of us have ever seen. He seems distracted, unlike how he usually is out on the field. Was last year the last time we saw that ‘Elite QB’ that he claims he is? Is there a bigger issue than the team’s unpreparedness that is affecting his game? Is his personal life burdening him and serving as a distraction?” the analyst said. 

You knew how intense his life was, and how demanding football could be. You had always tried to make things easier for him. But what if in trying to be supportive, you were unknowingly adding to the pressure? 

Was his personal life burdening him? Were you burdening him?

“Why does this always have to happen to him?” you sobbed, the words coming out before you could stop them. It was like the emotional dam you had built had just burst and all the feelings you’d held back for hours–maybe even longer–were rushing out. Your floury hands gripped the counter as your tears fell down and mixed with the sprinkled flour all around the marble top. 

You couldn’t keep it in anymore. The pressure, the criticism Joe was under, it was all so suffocating. Every time he had a bad game or a few bad moments, it was like the world turned against him. People couldn’t wait for him to slip up just so they could tear him down. 

“He works s- so hard, they just don’t get it,” you cried as you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. “He’s trying so hard, they don’t see how much pressure he puts on himself,”. 

But this wasn’t just about him, it was about you too. The pressure you put on yourself for always being the strong one, being strong for him, was suffocating. You were tired of acting like it didn’t hurt; the comments and the criticism not only about him but about you too. 

“Is it my fault? Am I pushing him too much? When I tell him how great he is and remind him of all the amazing shit he’s done, is that making him feel too pressured to be that guy again?” you sniffled. 

You were starting to blame yourself for everything, which is the last thing you should have been doing. This was far from your fault, but your brain was so clouded by negativity and the lingering words of those drunk men for you to be able to think clearly. All you could see was everything you said to him that could have made him lose his focus and cause all this. You couldn’t see that this was all because of everything else around him—the media, the outside noise. 

“And I shouldn’t have told him about what ha- happened at the suite,” you said as your sobs got louder. “He’s not focused because of me. It’s my fault,” you cried, your breaths getting shorter and shorter as your heart started racing. 

Before you think about anything else, you hear the buzzing sound of the garage opening fill your ears. 

Joe was home. 

“Fuck,” you quickly wiped your tears and switched the TV to a different channel before he came in. He didn’t need to see you like this, especially since you thought that him seeing you like this was the root cause of all of this. You were supposed to be strong, so you needed to act like it. His support system crumbling wasn’t what he needed right now because who would be there for him when he needed someone? 

You heard the door open behind you and quickly fixed your face before you turned around to see him, and what you saw broke your heart again. You immediately noticed the bags under his eyes, the defeated look on his face, and his miserable body language. 

You patted your floury hands on your sweatpants before walking over to him, grabbing his wrist, and pulling him in for a tight hug. You felt him relax against you before you placed a hand around the nape of his neck and pushed his head into the crook of your neck. “Hey,” he whispered against you as you started threading your fingers through his hair. 

“Hi,” you whispered as you placed a kiss on his warm cheek, feeling him let out a breath that sounded like he’d been holding it in for a while. 

“I missed you,” he said while slightly shifting his head to look at you, an adorable boyish pout on his face. 

“I know,” you smiled at him while leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too,”. 

He leaned down to your neck, “Was your flight okay?” he asked you as he peppered it with slow, soft kisses, his gentle touches slowly relieving the tension you had inside of you. 

“Yeah,” you lied, not mentioning how most of it was spent thinking about everything he said in his post-game press conference. “Was your flight okay?” you asked him.

“It was alright,” he sighed. “I didn’t get much sleep so I just killed time by staring out the window or reading that book you got me,” he said. 

“Wait, are you tired?” you asked as you let go of him; thinking that he’d be wide awake was a mistake. Why would he be wide awake? He had a rough game and even rougher post-game, he was probably so tired. 

“No, No,” he shook his head, his hands settling on either side of your hips and preventing you from moving too far away from him. “I’m wide awake but I tried to sleep on the plane just to pass the time. Obviously, that didn’t work though,” he softly laughed, his nose wiggling a few seconds later. “What smells good?” he asked, that childlike smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he caught a whiff of the cinnamon and nutmeg. 

You let out a small giggle before leaning up to press another kiss to his lips, “Pumpkin Pie,” you said a few seconds later, now feeling his hands wrap around your torso. 

“For me?” he asked while raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk rising on his lips. His hand slipped under your shirt, the warmth of his hand radiating through your skin and sending waves of comfort throughout your body. It was as if his touch had the power to quiet every worry in your mind and body, grounding you in a way he didn’t even realize. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, “Nah, it’s for my other 6’3 quarterback boyfriend. He should be coming around in a few minutes,” you teased. 

“Ha. Ha,” he laughed monotonously before continuing, “The only 6’3 quarterback boyfriend you need is already here. Thanks, baby,” he smiled a few seconds later as he pulled you even closer and pulled you up for a kiss. This one was a bit spicier than the others as his lips were instantly tugging on your bottom lip while he casually slipped his tongue into your mouth, earning a soft but sultry moan from you. His laugh vibrated through his chest and into the kiss, a shift in his energy fully visible. It was playful but with an edge. 

“Mmm,” you hummed as you placed your hands on his chest and gently pushed him back. “As much as I would love to keep that going, you’ve got a sweet treat to eat,” you winked.

“Oh,” he said while raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let’s go upstairs then,” he smirked while grabbing your hand and jokingly pulling you towards the stairs. 

“Joeee,” you said while pulling him back. “Not that kind of sweet treat,” you added which you received a pouty look from him in return. “...Okaaaaay, maybe later?”. 

Normally he’d respond with another flirty comment but when he stared into your eyes a little more carefully and noticed how red and puffy they were, all playfulness left his body as all he could think about was the fact that you had likely been crying, likely because of him and he knew that. 

“Y/N…” he began to say before you interrupted him. 

“Come sit down, I’ll pull the Pie out and cut you a slice,” you smiled while grabbing his hand and leading him back over to the kitchen island, not giving him a second to say anything. Even when you were clearly upset, you still were only thinking about him. 

“I don’t deserve her,” he thought to himself as he watched you plaster a smile on your face and focus on him and only him. “I don’t deserve her at all. I feel so guilty for everything that happened to her, especially because it’s all my fault, and she’s still only thinking about me? ”. 

You oftentimes did this, focusing on Joe and only him while ignoring everything else around you. He was the center of your universe and everything else around you faded into the background. This habit of yours formed early on in your relationship back at LSU. Then, it was all about supporting him through his tiring practices, stressful exams, and important games. You devoted yourself to making sure he felt loved, understood, and cared for while he tried to make his mark on the field. 

And now, even after all these years, your habit still hasn’t changed.

Joe saw it every time, the way you focused on him, how you gave him every ounce of your attention all the time. He didn’t say much about it, but you knew he noticed. The look in his eyes would always soften, as if he both loved and hated the fact that you put him first. 

It had been like that through the whirlwind of college football, and now in the glimmer of the NFL spotlight. You were always by his side, pouring all of your energy into him and sometimes leaving none for yourself. He knew you like the back of his hand so he could tell when you were giving more than you could handle. He appreciated you so much, you were his anchor but he worried about you–worried that you carried too much of his weight without letting yourself be vulnerable too. 

Even tonight, when you should’ve been taking care of yourself, you were focused on him–it was always him. It had been this way for so long, and while he knew you’d never stop looking out for him, he hoped that you’d let him do the same for you on the same level you did for him. As much as he needed you, he also knew that you needed him just as much, even if you didn’t always admit it. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” he said again, this time out loud as he slipped onto a barstool and rested his chin on his hand. 

“Great question. You must have done some severe manifestation to bag me,” you teased as you spun around to take out a plate from the cabinet. 

Joe let out a soft chuckle, “Severe manifestation, stalking your Insta for about 2 weeks to see if you had a guy already before asking you out, memorizing your class schedule and your favorite lunch spots so I could ‘accidentally’ run into you…it’s all the same,” but stopped once he saw you take only one plate out from the cabinet. “You’re not eating?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Not hungry,” you said while flashing him the fakest smile possible as you placed the plate down in front of him before turning around to pull the Pie out of the oven. Who were you kidding? You were so hungry to the point where you could legit eat one of those fake display fruits people put out. The only thing you’d had to eat today was a bottle of orange juice and a few bites of a banana muffin this morning—other than the Vodka Cran you had during the game. You just didn’t think you could stomach anything during or after the game because your stomach was in literal knots. 

You hoped that he didn’t realize you were lying to him but one thing about Joe was that he could always tell when you were lying to him. He paid extra attention to the little things about you–the sudden lightness in your voice, avoiding eye contact with him, and the oh-so-obvious fake smile. He hated when he noticed these signs because that meant you weren’t being truthful with him for whatever reason. 

Without saying a word, he got up from his chair and walked around the island to the kitchen cabinets. You saw him moving out of the corner of your eye just as you were closing the oven and carefully placing the warm pumpkin pie on the counter.

“What?” he asked you, noticing that you were staring at him as he pulled out another plate and set it on the island next to his. 

“Why’d you take out another one?” you asked him before you moved the Pie plate over to the island and set it near the dinner plates. Joe let out a soft laugh, the adorable crinkles in the corner of his eyes popping out as placed a gentle hand on both sides of your shoulders from behind and walked you back over to the island barstools.

“For you, silly,” he chuckled in your ear, then pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before walking back to the kitchen.

“But I’m not hungry,” you said as your eyes followed him around the kitchen, watching him take out a knife and a can of whipped cream from the fridge. 

“Look at who you’re talking to,” he smiled as he began cutting a slice of Pie. I know you like the back of my hand, Y/N. I know you haven’t eaten anything all day because I know you never eat before or during a game because you want to wait so you can eat with me. Also, you feel like if you eat something you’re going to throw it up during halftime because of your nerves,”. 

Your eyes softened as you watched him set a slice on your plate, and then use the whipped cream to add a small heart on top. 

He knew you and your habits all too well. You shouldn’t be surprised though, this was Joe. He noted and noticed everything about you and had been doing it since the day you first met. It first started off as him noting how you liked your morning coffees before classes (so he could show up at your dorm with it and have an excuse to walk you to class) and noticing how you’d start fidgeting with the birthstone ring on your right hand whenever you felt anxious in crowded public settings (parties, at his practices, his games). Whenever he saw you doing that, he made sure to stop whatever he was doing and tend to your needs–doing whatever you needed him to do without questioning it.

Now, it had led to him noting how you liked your morning protein smoothies (so he could make them for you, obviously) before you went in for your morning workout in the gym he had designed for the both of you in your shared home. And then it was noticing all your little habits, such as fidgeting with the birthstone necklace he gave you—which had his birthstone on it—whenever you felt anxious now. 

Reminding yourself of how beautifully things had changed and flourished in your relationship, how Joe so easily flipped your entire world upside down by just looking into your eyes one hot afternoon during a football practice you and your friends stumbled into, always brought a smile to your face. Even in moments when you were far from happy.

That was just the Joe effect.  

You watched as he set a slice on his plate, then added whipped cream to his before placing everything down and joining you on the other side of the island. He sat down on his stool and turned to look at you and saw that you were too far from him, which he wasn’t having for even a second. 

“Mm Mm, too far,” he shook his head as he grabbed the beam of your stool and pulled you over, a small shriek leaving your lips at how he easily pulled you over as if he was pulling a feather over. 

Your knees were pretty much bumping into each other, that’s just how close he pulled you over. It was such a small gesture, but the significance was far more deeper. He wanted you close in every single way possible. 

“My big strong man,” you giggled as you placed a hand on his knee, giving it a soft squeeze and then starting to rub it through his sweatpants’ fabric. He leaned over and started peppering featherlight kisses around your jawline and down to your neck, his lips so soft and plush-like. “But I really don’t think I can stomach the Pie regardless of how good it probably is,” you laughed. 

Joe leaned back to stare into your eyes, the redness in them mocking him and his efforts to make you feel better. It was a reminder of how well you hid your feelings from him, something you both had in common. You both would hide your feelings from each other in order to protect each other. He wanted nothing more than to sweep you up in his arms and take away the hurt that hid behind those beautiful, tear-stained eyes, but this was all he could do for you right now without pushing you too much. 

“Please? For me?” he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and placing his hand over yours which was rubbing his knee. He cupped your hand and flipped it so he could intertwine your fingers, then picked it up and pressed gentle kisses on the back of your hand while staring into your eyes. Both actions cause a feeling of comforting warmth to fill your stomach. 

You really didn’t feel like eating anything, but you did all this to take his mind off the game and lighten his mood, and not doing what he asked wasn’t going to help at all. The pouty look on his face was your biggest weakness so that wasn’t helping either, you could never say no to that adorable face. “Okayyy,” you giggled, giving in to his ask and then seeing his entire body light up when you grabbed the fork. 

“That’s my girl,” he smiled as his baby blue eyes lit up with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. He then leaned in and pressed another soft kiss to your cheek, the gentle touch lingering long enough for your belly to flutter. 

He then picked up his fork and dug into the pie, taking a big, generous first bite. His face went from playful to pure bliss at the first taste of the cinnamon and pumpkin. “Oh, babyyyy,” he groaned, closing his eyes for a second as he savored the taste. “This is so fucking good,”. 

“That sounds all too familiar,” you smirked while raising an eyebrow at the sounds and words that left his mouth. 

“Dirty dirty mind,” he shook his head and laughed while chewing on the pie in his mouth. 

You smiled as you watched him take more bites of the pie, feeling a bit better because of his reaction. The tension in your body, for a second, seemed to fizzle out as you watched him enjoy what you did for him. The warmth of the kitchen, smell of the fresh pie, and the soft sounds of the TV in the background made everything feel normal again–like a safe space where you both could just be yourselves. 

He took another bite, his eyes darting over to you as you continued to stare at him with hearteyes, “I’m serious, you’ve outdone yourself,” he said, his voice muffled with a mouthful of pie. “Don’t know what I’d do without you..or this pie,” he winked. 

“I love you,” you blushed as you leaned over and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek.

“I love you more, but,” he said as he swallowed the bite in his mouth, “You’re still not eating,”. 

You looked down and saw the fork in your hand and the untouched pie next to you, realizing you were so caught up in watching him that you hadn’t had any of the pie yourself. 

“Oops,” you said while pursing your lips and staring down at the dessert. 

Joe used his fork and stuck it into your pie, slicing a generous piece out before using his other hand to lift your chin. “Open up,” he said, raising his eyebrows and holding the fork in front of your mouth.

You laughed softly, “Seriously?”. The look in his charming eyes told you that he was 100% serious. 

“Come on, you’ve gotta eat something,” he insisted, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine sincerity. He moved the fork closer, allowing the sweet smell of pumpkin to enter your nose while he rested his other hand on your knee this time, squeezing and rubbing just like you were doing to his knee. 

You rolled your eyes before leaning in and opening your mouth to take a bite, the moment the pie touched your tongue you felt the warmth and sweetness explode in your mouth. Man, were you good at baking. 

Joe attentively watched your reaction as you chewed on the slice of pie, a look of satisfaction on his face as he watched you swallow the bite. “See? Isn’t that good?” he asked. 

You nodded, not being able to hide the smile rising on your face. “Yeah, you were right,” you giggled, the spices lingering on your tongue. “That’s soooooooooo good. But I think it tasted even better because you were feeding me,” you winked.

“Well, there’s more cominggggg,” he grinned as he stuck his fork in your pie again and picked up another bite before bringing it up to your mouth. “Woooosh,” the noise coming from his mouth mimicking a rocket ship as he zig-zagged his hand around. 

You smiled and stared at him for a few seconds, your heart swelling at the look in his eyes. It was a look of comfort, of relaxation. Last week, the look in his eyes was cold, it was tense. But this time, it was just filled with ease and love and it was all because of you. 

“Aaaaah,” you said as you opened your mouth for another bite of the delicious pie being fed to you by your favorite person on the planet. 

—

After letting him feed you the rest of your pie, he gathered your dirty dishes and brought them over to the sink before coming back to his barstool and sitting down next to you again. He leaned over and captured your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of pumpkin on both your lips making it even sweeter than usual. 

“Mmm, that tasted good,” you hummed as you playfully bumped his knee with yours. You were expecting a flirtatious response from him, somehow roping in the concept of sex into the conversation because he seemed to be in that mood earlier, but instead, he just stayed quiet while staring down at the counter. 

“Uh, oh,” you thought to yourself, your hips squirming in your seat at the sudden change in the atmosphere. It felt as if the room got darker, maybe even colder–just like the inside of Joe’s brain. You brought your hand up and started rubbing his back, “You okay?” you asked, nervously biting your lip because of the look on his face. 

“Yeah, just thinking,” he sighed, placing his hand on your knee again. 

“Thinking about anything in particular?” you said while giving him a heartfelt smile. 

He took a deep breath before responding, “Talk to her, Joe. Don’t push her away again,” he thought to himself. “…D- do you think we can talk about it? About the game?” he quietly asked you, meeting your eyes a few seconds after saying that. 

Joe tried to forget about it, and he did for about half an hour because of you and the pie you made for him. But he knew better than to keep everything in like that, knowing what would happen if all that stayed inside of him and built up. He refused to go back there, especially after getting a flashback of what that felt like last week. 

The sudden change in his voice, his eyes, and his body language threw you for a loop. You thought this would distract him for a bit longer, but it didn’t.

But wait. Why did you want to distract him for longer? You wanted him to open up to you, confide in you. So why did you want him to not think about the game?

Was it because you were the one who didn’t want to talk about it? You didn’t want to unpack those feelings, not his, but your own?

“No. He needs me right now. I can’t let my feelings get in the way,” you thought to yourself, “Be strong for him, Y/N. Stop being selfish.”

“Y- yeah,” you nodded. “What’s going on in your head?” you asked as you slid your hand up to his hair, threading the strands through your fingers while lightly scratching his scalp. 

“I’m just so frustrated, Y/N,” he sighed. “We were supposed to win, we were going to win,”.

“I know,” you said, letting out a shaky breath as your body braced itself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

“And I played like total shit. That fumble just gifted them 6 extra points and if I didn’t lose the ball like a fucking idiot, we would have likely won the game,” he said as his eyes welled with tears. “And we’re right back where we were. 0-2 as fucking usual and it’s my fault,” he sniffled. 

“It’s not your fault, Joey,” you frowned. “The whole team could have done better, especially the defense. You did so good, much better than last week,”.

“Not good enough,” he said, his voice laced with self-criticism. “It wasn’t good enough…I wasn’t good enough. I try so hard, you know? I do everything I’m supposed to, even more, 90% of the time. But things..they..they never go my way,” he added, the crack in his voice breaking your heart for the millionth time today. 

“I know, Joe. Trust me, I know,” you said as you lowered your head to catch his eyes. “But you can’t be this hard on yourself, you know that right?”.

“The flags, the Ja’marr thing, the stupid fucking mistakes. It all just went to shit so fucking fast,” he said as he turned to meet your eyes, ignoring what you said. “And our playoff odds keep decreasing which makes this even worse. If we go 0-3, I don’t think-,”.

“Joe, stop,” you said while moving your hand to cup his cheek. “You’re doing it again,”.

“I just…I can’t help it? I just feel like I let everyone down again,” he started to say and quickly kept going once he saw you start to open your mouth to say something. “And I know. I know what you told me last week, I heard you loud and clear. I thought I could go out and get it done this week and I acted like it too. During practice, in the press conference, over the phone to you, in the locker room to the guys–but once again I fucked up, and look at what happened,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as you saw his bottom lip start to quiver. “I k- know why we lost but I do- don’t at the same time?” he choked out, a single tear falling from his eye and sliding down his cheek. “I did everything I could and I still feel like I’m letting everyone down,” he repeated, his breaths getting shorter. “Especially you,” he whispered. 

You felt your eyes pool with tears, your emotions threatening to spill out as you stared at him. Seeing him like this, weak and questioning himself, was the one thing that could break you into a thousand pieces. He was so confident and strong in the face of adversity but in these quiet moments, those voices in his head were the loudest and he couldn’t help it. The doubts crept in and he started to undermine his success, and that shattered you. 

Watching him struggle with his confidence cut deeper than any of your own insecurities. You knew how much he gave to football, how much he sacrificed for this, how much he loved what he did. It crushed you to see him struggle like this and for a second think that he was letting anyone down. To you, Joe was more than enough–on and off the field–and seeing him question that was making you feel an unbearable amount of pain. 

“Joe,” you whispered, your voice shaky just like his. “You’re not letting anyone down. Especially me, I swear. You don’t see yourself the way I do,”. 

You saw his glossy eyes soften, searching yours for any sort of comfort and relief but as he gazed into your eyes, you knew he could see the emotions you were holding back. The mix of fear and love, concern and support. His vulnerability mirrored your own, and that made this hurt even more.

“I know you feel like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders and it feels like those shoulders are wobbly right now,” you nodded, feeling the tension–the burden of everything he carries both on and off the field radiate through his eyes. “But I promise you, Joe,” you whispered. “You’re strong enough to handle all of this. Even when it feels like too much, even when you doubt yourself. You’ve shown how strong and capable you are time and time again and everyone knows how talented you are. Don’t let one game define a legendary, history-making career, Joe. Don’t let yourself forget who you are. You have all of this because of your talent, your success, and your abilities. You’re the kid from small-town Athens, the third-stringer from Ohio State, the star quarterback of the LSU Tigers, and the franchise quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals. But most importantly, you’re one of the best to ever step onto that field and hold onto that football. Don’t forget who that kid is, who that boy is, who that man is, and who that player is. I know it feels like you’ve been hitting wall after wall every season, feeling like you’re losing something each time you get onto the field but everything you lose is a step you take,” you said. “You make mistakes, you learn from them, and you revise and get better each time. That’s what you do, Joe,”. 

“Don’t feel pressured to do everything on your own. You don’t need to blame yourself for the loss, you don’t need to blame yourself for the slow start. You don’t have to do this alone,” you continued, your voice raw but completely reassuring. “Everyone’s here with you, Joe. I’m here with you. We’ll carry the weight together, okay?”.

“No.” he shook his head. “You don’t…you won’t do that,” he said, his voice rougher but still laced with a tone that made you want to never stop crying. “I don’t want you in any situation like that, not after what happened today,”. 

You felt your stomach churn at the mention of today’s events. You really didn’t want to go there, but you knew you had no choice. Majority of the reason Joe was upset was because of what you had to deal with during the game. Yeah, he was frustrated about the loss, but the way you were treated made it so much more worse because that was a direct hit to his heart. “Joe, I-,” you began to say before you heard a soft sob come from in front of you.

“I’m s- so sorry, Y/N,” he said as he looked back into your eyes, his tears now fully streaming down his face. “I’m so fucking sorry that you have to deal with all of my shit. And year by year it just keeps getting worse for you and I can’t do anything to stop it. When I first started off in the league, your only worries were if I was able to go out there and throw the ball and have a chance to show everyone what I was capable of. N- now, you have to constantly worry about my in- injuries and what people say about m- me,” he sobbed, his tears falling faster and his body starting to shake. 

You quickly reached out for him, placing your hand on the back of his neck and pulling him over so that he was laying his head on your chest. “Joe, baby,” you whispered, cradling his head as you tried to keep your tears at bay. 

“Y- you had to pick up so much slack every time I g- got hurt,” he cried into your chest as you threaded your fingers through his hair. “You did so much for me that nobody ever saw, nobody will ever see. And they treat you like that? Because they fucking hate m- me?”.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay, Joe,” you calmly said to him as you leaned down to press a kiss to his hair. “I’m fine, I swear,” you sniffled, holding back your tears as best as you could.

“N- no,” he continued, “You’re not. I knew you were crying b- before I got home. It was because of me, right? Because of what I said in the press conference?” he asked, looking up at you through his wet, glossy eyes.

Your eyebrows softened, and before you could even find the right words, your eyes said everything for you.

“I knew it,” he continued as he hid his face in your chest again, your shirt fully soaked from his tears. 

“J- Joe…,” you trembled, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Stay strong, Y/N. He needs his support system right now,” you thought to yourself. “Please stop crying, baby. Please? You don’t need to apologize for a single thing,” you continued with a more stable voice. “I know you’re trying to protect me,”. 

“Yes, I do," Joe choked out. "Because now you have to worry about getting insulted and harassed by random fans who have some vendetta against me, but think it’s okay to take it out on y- you." His voice broke, and you could see the guilt flooding his eyes. "You’re the only person who’s truly stuck by my side through everything. You do so much for me, and you don’t deserve to be treated like that but you are, because of me. You had the most awful things said to you and it was all my fucking fault. It was my fault you were crying. It was my fault you couldn’t enjoy the game. It was my fault that earlier after the game, you felt like you had to hide this from me,".

He took a shaky breath, the weight of his words hitting him harder as he continued. "You can’t even go to a fucking game without getting hurt because of me," his shoulders trembled slightly. "I- I’m always hurting you, aren’t I?" he wept, those last four words coming out in a broken whisper as if they physically pained him to say. His grip on you tightened as if you were the only thing holding him together and preventing him from crumbling into a pile of dust.

Hearing him say those words ripped you apart. He was hurting, and it shattered you to think that he saw himself as the cause of your pain. 

“Joe,” you said as you tightened your embrace around him, “You’re not hurting me,” you added as you gently cupped his face with one hand. “You’re not,”.

“You’ve never hurt me, Joe. Not once,” you said as you wiped away the tears that were freely falling down his face. “What those people say, what they do–it’s not your fault. None of that is in your control and it doesn’t, for a second, change how much I care for you. How much I care for this world you’ve built for us,” you blinked your tears away and added. 

Joe shook his head, refusing to accept your words, but you continued on regardless. “You mean everything to me and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. You’ve never once hurt me in the 5 years we’ve been together. You’ve never given me a reason to think about running for the hills, never given me a reason to ever think about what my life would be like without you. You’ve showered me with so much love, so much happiness that I never thought was possible. You are perfect, Joe. In every aspect. It’s going to take a lot more than just some idiotic, insecure, flawed football bros to get to me and leave your side. Hell, the entirety of Kansas City isn’t even enough to pull me away from you,” you said as you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Please stop blaming yourself for what other people do. It’s not your fault that the team lost this game and it’s not your fault that some men in this world just have small-dick energy all the time,” the last bit of what you said lighthearted on purpose. 

You notice a small, brief smile begin to form on his face after you finish talking. It was faint, but it was there. Seeing that smile, even just a glimpse of it, filled your chest with relief. Your words had reached him, if only a little. “I love you, Joe. I love you no matter what,” you said while resting your chin on his head and holding him close to your heart as you felt him start to loosen up. 

“I- I love you too,” he whispered against your chest, pushing himself deeper into your embrace and wishing he could just melt into your body and forget about all his worries. 

In that moment, you could feel how much he needed this–how much he needed you. 

Your words and your touch were his anchor, his support. You grounded him when the weight of everything threatened to pull him under and in these quiet moments, that anchor allowed himself to be vulnerable and to lean on you completely. And you were more than willing to hold him up, even if it meant setting your feelings aside. 

You moved your hand to his back, gently rubbing circles around his frame in soothing patterns to ease his discomfort. “I’ve got you,” you whispered softly, feeling his breathing even out second by second. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby,” you whispered before holding him a little tighter. 

An hour later 

You got him to calm down a little, but deep down, you knew this wasn’t something that could be fixed in one conversation. It wasn’t just about losing the game tonight, it was about you. And when it came to you, Joe never played around. This wasn’t going to be an easy thing for him to move past and the look that lingered in his eyes told you that. Honestly, you hadn’t even moved past it yourself. But you didn’t want to unload your feelings onto him, not right now. He needed you to be his rock, his safe place, and you couldn’t let yourself add to the storm swirling in his head.

You brought him upstairs a little after he stopped crying and calmed down. You told him that he needed to shower, not because he stank, but just so he could wash the day off himself. 

While he sat on the bed, you went into the closet and pulled out his favorite pair of sweats, clean boxers, and a comfortable shirt for him and set them inside the bathroom before turning the shower on and setting it to the temperature you knew he loved. You then motioned for him to come inside with a sweet smile on your face. 

“Your shower awaits, my king,” you playfully bowed and said, earning a soft chuckle from him. “Thank god he can still laugh,” you thought to yourself. 

“Thank you,” he rasped with a smile, his voice still scratchy from crying earlier, as he slid off the bed and walked to the bathroom where you were, “My queen,” he added with a soft kiss to your lips. 

After watching him get undressed and slip into the shower, you quietly went back out to grab another shirt to replace the tear-stained one that was clinging to your body. When you stepped back inside, the sound of the water running and the silhouette of Joe moving against the foggy glass filled the space. You walked over to the vanity, setting the shirt down on the counter. For a second, you stood still, gripping the edges of the counter. Your eyes met your own reflection in the mirror and you saw the undeniable tiredness behind them as well as the redness from the tears you shed earlier. Your eyes softened for a second, the urge to start crying coming back but before a tear could fall from your eye, you wiped your eyes, “Hold it together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “He needs you right now,”. 

“Y/N?” a voice from behind you asked. 

You quickly turned around and saw Joe peeking his head out from the shower, his hair soaking wet and water droplets sliding down his body and onto the floor. “Can you come in, please?” he asked with a pout. 

You quietly stared at him for a few seconds before quickly breaking eye contact and flinging your clothes off so you could join him, which resulted in another adorable chuckle from his lips. You needed to wash the day off just as much as he did. 

Once you slipped into the shower with him, the heat of the water instantly embraced you. Before you could fully settle in, Joe pulled you into him, his hands gently gripping your waist as his lips found yours with a frantic intensity. The way his lips were moving against yours was deep, raw, and full of emotion. He needed to feel you, he needed to remind himself that you were still there and that you weren’t going to leave. 

His hand slid up your back, which was now wet as both of you were standing under the rainfall shower head, his gentle fingers tracing shapes around your back as he deepened the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand moving into his wet hair as the other hand rubbed his shoulder. 

His lips didn’t leave yours for a single second as the water poured over both of you. Every inch of your skin was drenched, the droplets sliding down your body, but that didn’t matter. The water was washing away all of the emotions of the day and was leaving you two in your own intimate bubble. However, nothing about what was happening in the shower carried any sexual energy, it was pure love and comfort. You could feel that he needed this more than anything, and you were right there for him. 

His hands continued to roam around your body, slowly but deliberately as he continued to remind himself that you were right there with him. A few seconds later, his lips left yours as he started trailing soft kisses down your wet jawline and neck. Each press of his lips against your skin felt like an apology and a promise all at once–his way of saying that you were his safe space, his sanctuary, and that he was sorry that something came so close to infiltrating his safe space and that he promised it wouldn’t happen again. 

He then moved his forehead to rest against yours, briefly staring into your eyes, before mumbling, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” while gently squeezing your hips. 

You looked into his tired baby blues before cupping his face with your hands, “It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out,” you whispered, then leaning forward to capture his lips in the soft kiss again, your noses brushing against each other as you pulled him in closer. 

You felt awful that Joe was feeling like this–mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to kiss his worries away and get rid of all the doubt and the pain by doing such a simple task. He didn’t deserve to feel this pain, this disappointment, this self-doubt. He worked so hard for everything, for football, for you–and seeing his hard work not pay off felt like a constant punch in the gut. Nothing hurts worse than seeing the person you love give their all to something–no matter how draining it was–and for it to rarely give anything back. 

It was even more painful when you saw him cry because of you. The thought of you being a burden, you adding to his stress, was still stuck in your mind. You felt guilty because most of this was your fault. If you weren’t there, then those men wouldn’t have said anything; Joe wouldn’t have a reason to feel this guilty. 

He blamed himself for the entire situation, and you blamed yourself. Except, he was being open about his feelings with you and you weren’t. The roles were reversed from last week. You were shutting him out in order to remain strong for him, and he knew that which made him feel even guiltier. 

“I love you,” he said in between the tender kiss, snapping you out of your daze as his hand cupped your cheek and thumb traced your cheekbone.

“I love you, forever,” you replied, your hand pushing his lips back onto yours. He needed to remind himself that you were still there, but you needed to remind yourself that he was still there too. Even if you didn’t want to admit it to him. 

—

After helping him shower, you finally got him comfortable in bed. The tiredness on his face was evident, but his mind was clearly still spiraling. It was a long day, emotionally draining for both of you, but you knew he needed rest more than anything right now. 

You slipped into the bed next to him, immediately turning to your side and pulling him into your body. His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist as he laid his cheek against your chest, your hands threading through his damp hair as you pressed light kisses around his face. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered a few quiet minutes later as he looked up at you with his tired eyes. 

“Shh, Joe,” you cooed as you moved his head back to your chest. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m right here. Go to sleep, baby,” you added with a kiss to his forehead, your heart breaking at his confession because that meant you were right; he wasn’t over it. 

He gave you a small nod before taking a deep breath, “I love you, Y/N. Thank you for everything you do for me,” he whispered, pressing a few kisses to your chest before fluttering his eyes closed. 

The rest of the hour was spent like this, with Joe wrapped tightly around your body. His head rested against your chest as you contuted to whisper gentle sweet nothings into his ear in hopes of soothing his restless mind. Occasionally, you’d press soft kisses against his forehead, his hair, and his cheek–each kiss adding to the palliative effect. Slowly, the tension was leaving his body and his breathing evened out. Your fingers continued to move in his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp which you knew always calmed him down. “I love you,” you repeatedly whispered with a gentle kiss to his temple. “I love you too, like a lot a a lot,” you said, echoing what he often times said to you.

About thirty minutes later, Joe was finally passed out like a baby, his face relaxed and free from worry. You glanced down at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips at the sight of him peacefully asleep and because of the sound of his soft snores.

“Thank god,” you whispered, relief washing over you because you got his brain to turn off for the night.

But unlike Joe’s brain, yours was still moving at the speed of light. Now that everything around you was quiet again, the voices in your head got louder. Normally, you were usually the one who had trouble falling asleep and Joe would be there to help you, but this time it was the opposite. 

You stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, hoping and wishing that doing this would bore you to sleep somehow, but you were so wrong. 

You let out an exhausted sigh before reaching over and grabbing your phone from the nightstand, making sure to quickly dim the brightness so it wouldn’t wake Joe up. “Looking at old photos always calms me down,” you whispered to yourself as you opened the photos app on your phone, getting ready to do what you did last week after you and Joe’s argument. Looking through old photos, specifically from happy moments, always seemed to calm you down in moments just like these. 

You made an album specifically for photos of you and Joe in your photo app; it was like a little treasure box of memories that always brought a smile to your face. It was also your secret weapon for moments like these–when things got heavy and you needed a reminder of the simple times.

You tapped the randomizer button, your usual go-to when you wanted some nostalgia with a hint of surprise. This button would pull up any photo from any year, any moment, without any warning–which is why it was so special. You never knew what photo you would see, but it was always guaranteed to be a moment worth reliving. 

You tapped the button, this time a photo of the two of you from 2020 popped up on your screen. 

You were in the driver’s seat of the new car Joe had just bought and he was right next to you holding the camera–a pure, deeply in love smile and look on both your faces.

Flashback to 2020

“God, this car is amazing,” you smiled over at Joe as you turned onto the next street in your neighborhood. 

“I know right?” he nodded. “It feels like we’re gliding on the clouds or something, it’s so smooth,”. 

Currently, you two were driving around your new neighborhood that you had just moved into in Cincinnati, a few months post-NFL draft. Joe had recently purchased his first luxury car with his contract money, a beautiful sleek Maybach, and you were spending the evening driving it around and enjoying your quiet time together in your new city. 

Joe drove you around downtown Cincinnati first–both of you making a list of food places you were going to try, parks you were going to visit, and the prime date night spots–and then offered to switch places with you once you got back to the suburbs area. At first, he was going to let you drive around the city instead of him, but you were way too scared that you'd end up hitting something or crashing to let yourself even think about sitting behind the wheel. But, after a half hour of him sweet-talking you and reassuring you everything was going to be alright while driving, you were now in the driver's seat and were whipping the car around like it was no big deal. 

That was the Joe effect. 

"I love dating a rich man," you winked at him, earning an eyebrow raise from him that would send you straight to your knees if you were standing up right now. 

"Well, I love being a rich man who can spoil his sexy girlfriend at any time he feels like," he smirked. 

"Are you sure you don't love being my passenger princess even more?" you giggled as you reached over to turn the air conditioner down when you saw him pull the sleeve of his hoodie down. "You look pretty damn comfy over there," you said while looking down at his feet, which were only covered with his socks as he decided to take his shoes off.

"Oh, baby I am comfy," he groaned. "This seat is like a marshmallow or something," he sighed as he wiggled his shoulders against the seat. 

"I told you," you smiled, hitting the right turn signal as you approached the stop sign. "I just wish we could figure out how to set up the audio system. I'm missing our music right about now and was hoping we could do some car karaoke today," you sighed as you turned right and started going down another street.

"Yeah, I know," Joe sighed next to you, cupping your upper thigh with his hand, prompting you to glance down for a second. "Ah, ah," he shook his head when he noticed you looking down, "Eyes on the road,".

"You better not move that hand any higher, Burrow," you said while giving him a heated look, knowing his hands were dangerously close to a certain spot. 

"I won't, I won't," he nodded with a cheeky smile, knowing the hold he had over you. "But anyway. Since we don't have music to keep ourselves entertained, how about a short, our version, game of 20 questions?".

"Oooo," you said with wide eyes. "I love that idea!” you chirped. “Let’s make it couple themed too, to add to the vibe,”.

“You got it,” he smiled over at you, his heart swelling as he watched you sitting so relaxed next to him, driving your new car, in your new neighborhood, in your new life together. It was silly, but he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he was getting to do this with you, the one he loved the most. Back at LSU, the thought of this happening was a dream for him even though he was watching it all unfold right under his nose. It didn’t really hit him that you two were doing this–starting the next phase of your lives, the adult phase, the phase where you were together together in every single aspect–until you two had signed the lease for your first home together last month. 

“Okay, the first question for you,” you smiled. “What’s the romantic thing you’ve ever imagined us doing together?”. 

Joe looked ahead on the road as he thought of his answer, but he really didn’t need to think for that long because the answer was so obvious as he’d thought about it about a hundred times every night before going to sleep. “Getting married,” he turned his head and smiled at you. 

Married. 

You felt your stomach do a backflip when those words registered in your head. He’d never said this to you before or ever brought up the idea of getting married, even though it was all you could think about after your first date back at LSU. You thought that it was just your brain getting overexcited at the possibility of your childhood fantasy of marrying Prince Charming coming true–and your first date together solidified that he was the Prince Charming you were waiting for–but you had no idea that he felt the same way. 

“When we’re ready, of course,” he added, snapping you out of your trance. 

You looked over at him, your eyes twinkling with love for him which made his heart skip a beat. “Really?” you breathed out.

“Hell yeah,” he smiled. “You’re my girl, my lady. My one and only. Why would I want to pass up on making an extraordinary woman like you, my wife?” he asked with an adorable smile. There was a certainty in his voice, a certainty that left no room for doubt. Joe had always been sure of you, even when you got in your head and questioned things. The way he said it, with that cute, boyish smile, it was impossible not to feel it too–the deep love and the absolute certainty he had in the two of you.

“I love you,” you pouted, watching him lean in and press a quick kiss to your lips.

“I love you more than anything in the universe,” he winked. 

“Okay, my turn again,” you beamed as you looked back onto the road, Joe nodding beside you and rubbing his thumb across your thigh. “If you could describe our chemistry in a sentence, what would you say?” you asked him. 

Joe’s eyes sparkled with a soft smile as he thought about your question. “I’d say our chemistry is like lightning in a bottle–rare because so many people search for what we have their entire life, unpredictable like anything could happen which keeps us on our toes but also not too unpredictable because we’re lightning in a bottle so it’s contained and secure, and full of energy, but always electric whenever we’re together,”.

“So sweet and poetic,” you smiled as you glanced over at him. “If football ever gets boring, I think you should write a poetry book."

Joe chuckled, his hand still resting on your thigh as he gave it a playful squeeze. “Oh yeah?” he smirked. “Think I’ve got what it takes to be the next great romantic poet?” he winked, clearly amused by the idea, but the way he looked at you–like you were his muse–made it feel like maybe he could.

“Mhm. I think you can write a better Sonnet 18 than Shakespeare did,” you teased. 

“I appreciate the confidence,” he grinned as he moved his hair back with his fingers. “Okay, I have a question for you,”.

“Shoot,” you replied. 

“What’s the most enticing way I can wake you up?” he smirked, the energy in the car going from playful to sensual within 5 seconds of him saying that.

“With your head in between my thighs,” you blushed. “That feeling of your soft scruff rubbing against my skin, your beautiful nose against my clit…Ugh, it’s too perfect. Best way to wake up,”.

“Damn, you didn’t even have to think about that one,” he laughed. 

“Nope. It’s happened all too many times for me to prefer any other way of getting woken up. Except for that one morning, the morning after the date you told me you loved me, when that almost made me miss my psychology exam,” you giggled. “Then I would’ve preferred a coffee to wake me up but every other time, that’s the best way,”. 

“Good to know,” he chuckled. “Okay, next question. If we could have a dance party, just us, what song would you dance with me to?”.

“Teenage Dream, Katy Perry. Duh,” you grinned. “You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream, the way you turn me on, I can't sleep, let's run away, and don't ever look back, don't ever look back,” you sing. 

“My heart stops when you look at me, just one touch now baby I believe, this is real, so take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever look back,” he sings along with you. 

“Damn, okay Katy,” you giggled, applauding his ability to stay on the pitch and sing with you. 

“Thanks, babe,” he smiled, doing a little bow in his seat. 

“Oo, I have another one. What’s one thing you love about me that you don’t tell me enough?” you asked him with an eager smile. 

“Hmm, that’s a good one,” he said, biting his lip as he thought carefully about what to say. A few seconds later, he looked at you with an almost shy smile. “How strong you are,” he said. “You don’t realize it, but you’re the strongest person I know. You always take care of everyone else–your friends, family, me–without ever asking for anything in return. And you never give yourself enough credit for how much you handle. I don’t tell you that enough, but I see it every day,”. 

“I’m gonna cry,” you pouted, placing your hand on his which was resting on your thigh. “I love love loveee you,” you said as you brought his hand up, intertwined your fingers, and brought it up to your lips for a kiss. 

“I love you,” he smiled, those three words always coming from his lips and never getting old or redundant. Since he said it so often, it was a constant reminder of how deep-rooted his love was for you. He was all in for you, so infatuated with you to the point where being without you caused him physical pain. 

You turned onto the next street–the street where your house was–which signaled the game was coming to an end.  “Since we’re almost home, I take the final question,” Joe smiled as he sat up in his seat and reached down to slip his shoes on. 

“Okay,” you grinned.

“What’s one thing that I could do that would turn you on immedi-,” he began to say but before he could finish answering you interrupted him.

“The eye-brow raise,” you blurted out, a crimson blush rising on your face at the mental image of him doing the one thing that sent you straight to your knees in front of him. 

“Oh?” he said, surprised at your straightforwardness. 

You slowly turned your head to him, your eyes widening when you saw him doing said eyebrow raise at you right now as you turned into the garage of your home. “Joseph Lee!” you shrieked, slapping his thigh gently.

“I mean, we are home now,” he laughed, the smirk on his face screaming trouble. “At least we won’t have to get the car dirty,”. 

You stared at him with your jaw practically on the floor before he laughed again and used his hand to close your jaw. “Just kidding,” he smiled, “Maybe..” he added with a whisper. 

“Mhmmmm,” you squinted your eyes and nodded as you turned off the car. 

“Anywayyy,” he said as he unbuckled his seat belt and turned to you. “You like driving the car?”.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to face him, matching his movements, “I mean Of course, who wouldn’t? It’s a Maybach,” you giggled. 

“Great, it’s your new car,” he grinned. 

Your eyes widened, “What?” you gasped, your voice filled with disbelief. 

He laughed, his smile getting even bigger at your reaction. “Yup, it’s all yours. Figured it was time you had something this valuable to match how valuable you are,”.

You stared at him with a mix of emotions swirling in your body, “You’re kidding right?” you asked, half expecting him to say it was a joke. “I thought this was your car?”.

“Nope. I’m getting a Porche for myself. This one is just for you, a special car for my special girl,” he smiled. 

You blankly stared at him for a few seconds before sliding your Uggs off and hopping over the center console, into Joe’s lap. You couldn’t believe that he just bought this car for you, something so expensive and grand. It was just for you. 

He really loved you more than anything in the world, and everything he did just showed you how all in he was for you. This was another thing added to the list, a very long, lengthy, beautiful list.

You didn't even ask him for anything, he just knew.

“Woahh, hey,” he laughed as his hands instantly went to your waist. 

“I fucking love you,” you grinned as you started attacking his face with kisses. “Like I seriously don’t deserve you at all,”. 

“You deserve everything and more, baby. You deserve the world and I can’t wait to give it to you,” he said to you, the look in his eyes sending chills down your spine. 

“Thank you, Joe. Thank you for all of it,” you smiled before you started peppering kisses around his jawline, feeling his scruff against your lips. 

“No need to thank me. You deserve it for all you do for me,” he smiled. 

“I do need to thank you,” you said as you pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, your eyes now filled with mischief and pure heat. 

He raised his eyebrows at your teasing expression, “Okay if you insist. But how so?”.

You looked him up and down as you licked your lips, an idea sparking inside your head. You leaned forward and placed your lips at his ear, “I think we should christian the new car? For its other use, not just driving. What do you think?” you whispered to him. 

“I think that we should get the car dirty,” he smirked as he moved your head back to his view and started kissing his way down your neck.

“Huh, that’s funny. I was thinking the same thing,” you smirked as you pulled his face back up to yours.

End of Flashback

The photo then changed to another one from 2020. This one specifically was from January 13th, 2020. 

You were in Joe’s apartment, tangled in the sheets of his bed with him, and he was holding the camera in front of you both as you both sported lazy, high-on-the-feeling type smiles on your faces. 

“That was a fun night,” you smiled, immersing yourself in the memory again. 

Flashback to Joe’s apartment – January 13th, 2020

“Fuck, that was good,” Joe breathed out as he fell back against the sheets, turning his head over to look at you to make sure you were alright.

“You have...a lot of energy,” you panted with a satisfied smile as you came down from your high, turning your head to look over at him through his messy hair.

“I feel like I can run a marathon,” he lazily chuckled as he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at you.

“No running marathons tonight, we’re celebrating,” you winked as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his bicep. 

“That’s okay, I’ll just use my energy on you,” he smirked, “If you can handle it,”.

You let out an offended scoff, “Excuse me? Think I can’t match your stamina?”.

Joe looked around the room, avoiding eye contact with you as a smirk tugged at his lips. You grabbed a pillow from behind you and gently slapped his chest with it, “May I remind you of your birthday last month?” you giggled, reminding him of that very very long night you two spent in his apartment celebrating his birthday, alone. 

“Okay, Okay,” he said, taking back what he said. “Fair point. You can handle it,”. 

“Damn right, I can. I’m a National Champion’s girlfriend now, I can handle anything,” you smiled as you laid back against the sheets again, stretching your arm out to cup his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheek. 

“I’m really glad you didn’t mind celebrating here, just the two of us,” he said a few quiet seconds later as he moved your hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your palm. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else or with anyone else, Joe. You’re all I need,” you said to him as you pulled him down and pressed your soft lips against his. 

“That’s great because,” he said between the kiss, “I really didn’t want to be out there tonight,” he said as he went back to your lips, maneuvering himself in the sheets so he was on top of you again.

The LSU Tigers had just won the National Championship just a few short hours ago at the Mercedes Benz Superdome in New Orleans. The entire city was alive with celebration and excitement, and the team was riding the high of their victory tonight. While most of the players and their partners were hitting up every club and bar on Bourbon Street, you found yourself in a quieter, more intimate setting. 

After wrapping up his media appearances for the night, Joe surprised you. You thought you two would just go with the rest of the team to whichever bar they wanted to raid first but Joe just had a feeling you were slightly opposed to the idea of bar hopping all night because he knew you didn’t really enjoy getting blackout drunk in order to have fun, and he was the same. So instead, he took your hand and led you to the car, alone–just the two of you.

The streets, the media, the entire state was buzzing with thrill and excitement over tonight’s game and Joe’s NFL ready performance, but Joe was only thinking about you. He knew how great the game was, how good he looked, and what this meant for his future as a Pro. But he could care less about all that right now. For him, tonight wasn’t about the parties, the lights, or the drinking–it was about sharing this moment with you. The person who had been with him since the start of his journey down here. 

“My little hermit crab,” you giggled as you pulled away from the kiss. “Even when it’s all about you, you still want to hide away in your shell,”. 

“Well, I’m not alone in my shell,” he pouted, “I have you and that’s all I’ll ever need,”. 

“I love you,” you said as you brushed your nose against his. “And I’m so proud of you,”. 

“Babyyy,” he shyly said while stuffing his face in your neck to hide his rosy cheeks. 

“What?” you said as you looked down at him. “I think I deserve to tell you how proud I am of you an unlimited amount of times tonight,”. 

“You’re gonna get tired of it,” he mumbled against your neck as he was pressing sloppy kisses around the bare skin.

“Oh, I am never getting tired of saying it I’ll have you know that,” you said as you stuffed your hand into his hair and played with his curls. “You always find a way to make me prouder so I’m always going to have something new to be proud of,”. 

“...Keep talking,” he said a few seconds later as he moved his head so that it was laying in your neck.

“Gladly,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his forehead, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “Do you even realize how far you’ve come? You’re not just the guy who won the College Football National Title tonight. You’re that kid from Athens, Ohio who fought his way from being a third-string quarterback–someone who people didn’t believe in, someone who thought his shot might never come as he sat on the bench for every game,”. 

Joe stayed quiet as he listened closely to what you were saying to him. “You broke free from that, baby. You took every challenge, and every setback, and used it as fuel to get here. You didn’t give up when things weren’t going your way, and now look at you? National Champ, Star QB, and a leader of a team that believed in you because you believed in yourself,”. 

“That little boy from Athens has come so far. So far from throwing a football in front of twenty, maybe thirty people at a pee-wee football game, to throwing a football in front of thousands of fans with even millions more watching from TV. You’ve worked so hard for this and I want you to be as proud of yourself as I am of you. Because tonight…you didn’t just with the trophy. You proved to yourself, you proved to everyone, that betting on yourself always works. That you are so much more than everyone gave you credit for. You proved that Joe Burrow is that guy and is going to be that guy for years to come,” you added, feeling him hold onto you a little tighter as you continued talking. 

“You did this, Joe. You did the damn thing you always dreamed of doing as a little boy. And this wasn’t just some lucky break, this was you turning that dream into reality. Every time you threw a football in the park with me when you got here, every practice, every struggle–it brought you here. You didn’t let anyone’s doubts or opinions stop you. This win, this night–it’s everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve earned. And it’s just the beginning of your story. Who knows where you’re going to end up after the draft, but all I know right now is that you’ve done what you set out to do. Whether it’s to the NFL or wherever life takes you, you’ve shown nothing can hold you back. The sky isn’t the limit, Joe,” you said while feeling him press a kiss to your jaw and then a wet droplet streaming down your neck, likely a tear droplet from his eyes. “Little Joey Burrow from Athens who used to look up at the sky, dreaming of moments like these? He’s made it. He’s touched the sky. And now, nothing is stopping him from reaching even higher than the sky,”. 

“I am eternally proud of you,” you said, ending your sweet speech with another kiss on his forehead.

You hear Joe’s soft sniffles come from under you, “I love you, Y/N. I really fucking love you. I think out of everything that’s happened to me since coming to LSU, including tonight, you’re by far the best thing. I don’t know how I lived my life all those years without you, to be honest. And I know I can’t live the rest without you either,”. 

“Aww, Joey,” you cooed. “I can’t live without you either,” you said as you brought his face back up to yours and mashed your lips against his. “I can’t and I won’t,” you said as you pecked his lips. “Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever?” you asked him, the look in both your eyes answering that question for you both without needing to say anything. 

“You don’t need to ask me, baby. You’re going where I’m going whether you like it or not,” he smiled. “It’s you and me for infinity,”. 

“Good,” you nodded, a warm feeling in your heart as you two lightly touched the topic of your future together. “I’m not letting go of you if you want me t-, ahhh!” you shrieked as Joe grabbed your waist and easily flipped you over so that you were on top of him. 

“What were you saying?” he smirked as his hands gripped your waist with an intensity that matched the look in his eyes. 

“Damn, you’re strong,” you giggled as you leaned forward and moved his hair out of his eyes, your bare breasts dangling in front of his face which was all he could think about now. 

“Damn, you’re sexy,” he groaned as he slid his hands up your bare back, pushing you forward so that he could latch his mouth onto a nipple. 

You fluttered your eyes closed as you felt him swirl his tongue around your sensitive bud, “Ohh, yeah,” you whispered, your hips rocking against his as a jolt of pleasure vibrated through your tired body. 

“Mm, I wanna taste you,” he said as he pressed kisses along your sternum before moving to your other breast. “I think I deserve a sweet treat for winning the Championship,”. 

Joe’s breath hitched as your hands slid up his chest, your fingernails gently scratching his skin, His eyes darkened as they locked on yours, the intensity between you building with each parting second.

“I mean, it’s only fair,” you shrugged playfully, your voice soft but laced with desire. You bit your lip before adding, “But I want to ride you,” meeting his gaze with a look that spoke volumes. There was a fire in your eyes, one he couldn’t resist, one that seemed to pull him in deeper.

He swallowed hard, his body already reacting to the heat between you, completely mesmerized by the way you looked at him. “Damn,” he whispered, his voice raspy as he slid down on the bed and brought you with him. "You always know exactly what to say to drive me crazy,"

“I know,” you winked, “It’s my job,” you added before you felt him grip your waist again, this time feeling him lift you from his hips and onto his chest. 

“You ready?” he asked you, making sure you were alright even though this wasn’t the first time you’d done this before.

“Oh, hell yeah,” you grinned as you spread your legs wider and moved onto his face, lining your slick core with his mouth. 

A few seconds passed by as you got comfortable, his hands tightly gripping your waist and your ass as you let out a few breathy moans at the feeling of his perfect, ski slope nose rubbing against your aching clit. “Joe,” you whimpered. 

He looked up at you and the sight of you biting your bottom lip and holding onto the bedframe was enough to make him cum without you even doing anything to him, he was mesmerized by you. 

He used his tongue to lick a long stripe across your slit before thrusting his tongue into your core, your hips beginning to gently rock back and forth against his face. “Mmm, fuck,” you moaned, a warm feeling fluttering through your belly as you felt yourself getting lost under his touch. 

“Fuck,” he blubbered underneath you, “You taste like heaven,” he said while closing his eyes and gripping you even tighter. The feeling of his scruff against your bare skin was driving you insane. There was legit no better feeling on this planet than feeling his scruff in between your thighs. 

He continued to lap at your folds with his skillful mouth, even looking up at you with his wild eyes a few times and noticing how you threw your head back each time his lips latched onto your clit, even how you fell a little forward when his nose would rub against it. He was as skillful with his mouth as he was with his hands, both always moving with precision and perfection on you. He always knew what to do in order to send you over the edge, he knew your body like it was a road he’d driven down over a thousand times. 

“Joe, fuck…you’re so- you’re so good at t- this,” you moaned, stuffing your hands into his fluffy, disheveled hair as you rocked your hips back and forth a little harder. 

Your grip on his hair was as tight as the grip he had on you, both of you steadying yourselves due to the intensity of the pleasure unfolding between you. “Yeah, just like that,” you whimpered after you felt him move his hand to your wet heat, his thumb grazing over your bundle of nerves as you felt yourself inching closer to your orgasm. 

You tugged on his hair a little harder, this time earning a moan from him that vibrated through your entire body and sent you straight to heaven for a second as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, “Ah,” you whimpered as you felt the band in your belly tighten with each expert flick of his tongue and scratch of his scruff against your core. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you whispered as you closed your eyes, your entire body hotter than the sun with the way his mouth was going unhinged on your soaked core. 

Joe opened his eyes and glanced up at you, a feeling of accomplishment and pride coursing through his veins, and it wasn’t because of winning big tonight. It was because of you. Because he was the only man on this planet to get you like this. 

He latched his mouth onto your clit, flicking the bud with his hot tongue as you felt your high starting to come over you with each nip and suck of his mouth and the feeling of your waist being squeezed by his big hand. 

“Joe…Joe…Joe!” you screamed a few seconds later as you felt your orgasm cut through you, your hands gripping the bed frame so that your tight grip didn’t end up ripping his hair out. “Oh my god, fuck,” you whimpered as you felt your release fall into his hot mouth and his tongue continuing to work you through your high. 

“I love you,” you breathed out a few seconds later once you looked down at him, feeling him smile into your drenched heat as he continued to coax you through your high.

And in that moment, you once again realized that there was no other place you both would rather be right now. You were away from the noise, from the flash of the cameras, from the distractions. This felt like the real celebration. The one that mattered the most. Joe had achieved one of his dreams, and the only thing that made it sweeter was sharing this private, intimate moment with you. 

All the sacrifices, sleepless nights, countless hours of practice–it all led to this. And the one person he wanted to be with, more than anyone else, was you. 

You were both exactly where you needed to be. Together. And that was the real victory.

End of Flashback 

You snapped back to the present when your phone turned off and the light was no longer reflecting onto your face. Your face felt wet, as well as your eyes as you looked down at your phone which had droplets sliding down the screen. You didn’t even realize that while reliving these memories, you started crying. 

You swiped at your face, trying to wipe away the tears as if you could get rid of the feelings that had overwhelmed you. You glanced down at Joe, praying that none of this had woken him up–which thankfully it didn’t. 

“Everything was so simple back then,” you thought to yourself as you felt a few more straggling tears slide down your cheeks. You missed those times, those times when your only concerns were what bag and clothes he was going to bring to his first practice as a Bengal or what team he’d end up going to post Natty win & NFL draft. 

And now? Now there were so many concerns, worries, and thoughts that needed to be sorted. But why? “When did everything get so complicated?” you asked yourself as you glanced back down at him, his puffy eyes still closed and his mouth slightly open as the soft snores continued to come through. “Why did everything get so complicated for him? Why is he in so much pain? He doesn’t deserve this…he works so hard. He does everything he needs to do. He does so much for me and for this life, we built,” you thought to yourself again as you felt your stomach drop.

You wished you could do something to help him, do something to just fix everything that was bothering him. But you couldn’t. 

The only thing you could do was remain strong, remain as his anchor, and prevent him from going under. 

Even if sometimes you felt like you were about to go under yourself. 

You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before whispering, “I’m so sorry Joe. I wish I could take away your pain, I wish I could make this better. You deserve the world and I’m so sorry that I can’t help you in the way I should be,".

"I’m sorry," you whispered again as you felt another tear slide down your cheek.

–To be Continued–

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 2 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: As soon as you decide that Jake is the one you want for your first time, he's very clear that you'll be playing by his rules. You're ready to get this over with and get on with your life, but he's determined to make you admit that you're allowed to feel good. And maybe you want to enjoy this with him.

Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, sexual touching, 18+

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

"Jake," you whispered as his soft hair glided through your fingers. You liked his name. He was handsome. He was older. His lips tasted delicious. He had green eyes.

Why had you been so focused on Rooster? Oh, right. Because your roommate, Kylie, said he was good after she slept with him. She told you all about the Navy bar and the different guys with call signs, and you made it a point to remember that Rooster was the one who she said was the gentlest. 

You froze. Jake had his hands around your waist, his hips pressing his semi hard length against you. Those pretty green eyes were locked onto yours, and you knew it would be a long shot to get him to agree, even now. But something else was bothering you about this whole scenario. You suddenly wondered if Kylie and Jake ever had sex.

For some reason, that idea alone was enough to piss you off. Going blindly after Rooster would have been no big deal, but Jake seemed to actually give a shit about you. He just took the time to make sure you were really twenty, and he kept questioning you as to why you were here in the first place. In this bar where you apparently stuck out like a sore thumb.

But you wanted Jake specifically for your first time, whether he had already fucked Kylie or not. You leaned in and kissed him again, and he seemed more than willing now. You hoped your little skirt and tight shirt weren't going to fail you after you made it this far. He just needed to take care of this one, basic thing for you, and you'd be on your way. Then you could go out with Cooper who you were actually so ready to date, and you wouldn't completely embarrass yourself with him.

You let yourself touch Jake's hair again as you asked, "What's your call sign?"

His hand felt huge against your butt, and you went willingly when he pulled you even closer. "Hangman," he said in that cute Texan drawl. That didn't sound familiar at all, and Kylie was pretty proud of all the call signs she'd managed to collect. Maybe she hadn't gotten to him yet. Or maybe she wasn't his type. That thought alone made you smile even more as he continued to touch you.

"Okay, Hangman," you whispered against his mouth in the middle of this crowded bar. "I'm ready for you to take me to your place."

He kissed you gently and shook his head. "Let's go out to my truck, and I'll drive you back to your apartment or dorm."

God, he was such a good kisser, but he was really grating on your nerves at this point. You were a little nervous that he would keep saying no and then ruin your chances with Rooster or one of the other guys in attendance tonight, even though they would be clear backup options now. You whined in annoyance. "Come on, Jake."

"No. I'm not taking you home with me," he replied firmly. 

You stomped your foot; you really wanted to lose your damn virginity, and you couldn't give it away. "You don't even have to take me back to your place. We can fuck in the parking lot."

"Jesus Christ, Darlin'. That's not happening either," he said, looking scandalized. "Definitely not for your first time. And a leather mini skirt is an impractical outfit to get fucked in anyway."

You tipped your head back and groaned. "Well how was I supposed to know that?" Then you looked at his handsome face, pretty much ready to call it a night and try again tomorrow at a different bar. "I'm doing everything wrong."

He had the nerve to laugh at you again. "No. You're really not. The skirt is just going to make guys want to work harder for it. And honestly, somehow the sneakers are doing something for me?"

A small glimmer of hope flashed inside you as you ran your fingers along his stubbled cheek. "Yeah?"

"God. Damn. It." He was practically growling now as he started to haul you toward the exit. "If we're doing this, then we're doing it right."

"Okay!" you replied immediately, not really sure what you were agreeing to as he led you outside to the dark deck, letting the door close behind the two of you. The loud interior of the bar was a thing of the past now as he took your chin between his thumb and fingers and kissed you a little rough with the ocean as the new soundtrack. 

You almost dropped your purse as you tried to wrap your arms around his neck, already wanting more of him. "If you really want to do this," he said between kisses, "then you're playing by my rules." You were practically whimpering as his lips found the side of your neck, because why did his words sound so sexy?

"Absolutely," you whispered. "Jake's rules."

He half carried you out to the dimly lit parking lot as he muttered, "This is a terrible idea." He squinted at your face and added, "You seem like the type who never learns her lesson."

"I resent that," you said, running your lips along his ear even as your feet left the ground. "I have a 4.0 GPA. I always learn my lessons."

He grunted as he helped you into what you assumed was his truck before standing outside the door with his hands on his hips. "Like I said, you're a real smartass. Now listen up. I'm going to be as gentlemanly as I possibly can during this whole thing."

"Whole thing?" you asked, wondering what he could possibly mean. He just needed to get completely hard, shove his cock in you for a little while, and then call it a night.

"Yeah," he grunted, his green eyes a little wild in the glow from the truck's dome lights. "I'm going to make sure you come. I'm going to be as sweet as I can be. But you need to be clear if you're not having a good time, or if you want me to stop. If you can't abide by those basic ground rules, we're absolutely done here."

Oh. He was really taking this seriously. You chewed on your lip, and his face became more apprehensive. But you weren't debating with yourself whether or not his ground rules would work for you. You were actually trying to figure out why he was already being better than anything you anticipated tonight. Anticipated ever.

"Oh, my god," you gasped. "Are you married?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he shouted, looking angry now. "Of course I'm not married!"

You reached out to him and grabbed his hand. "Sorry! It's just that you're sweet, and you seem to be taking this really seriously! I was just checking!"

Jake scowled, and his tone was one akin to hurt. "I'm not letting you make yourself believe that all you deserve for your first time is a careless fuck in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, and I'm certainly not letting one of those drunk assholes maul you apart!"

The more you thought about it, you really didn't want to be manhandled or have to pull your skirt up in a bathroom stall to make the best of things tonight. You squeezed his hand which you were still holding as you softly said, "Thank you."

He ran his free fingers through his soft hair and muttered something that sounded like, "Yeah, don't thank me yet." Then he kissed your lips and said, "Buckle your seatbelt," before he let go of your hand and closed the door. 

-------------------------

You were pretty quiet on the drive back to Jake's place, but you didn't seem as nervous now. If anything, he thought his nerves were ramping up while yours were calming down. He couldn't remember how many condoms he had left in his bedside drawer, and when he tried to estimate how many he might use tonight, he almost missed his turn. Was he really going to do this?

"You live by the beach," you remarked, playing with the hem of your tiny skirt while you looked out the window.

"I do," he replied, mentally cancelling his morning run if you were going to stay over. The implications of letting you spend the night were creeping up on him, but kicking you out was absolutely not going to be an option. You likely had the entirety of the rest of your life to be disappointed by men, but he wasn't going to set that precedent. 

"How old did you say you were?"

Jake felt a little dirty now when he said, "I didn't. But I'm thirty." He tapped the brakes when he was about a block from his house. His truck already smelled sweet like your perfume or shampoo, and he glanced at you when he turned onto his street. "Let me take you back to your place."

You laughed softly as you leaned a little closer to him. "Negative, Hangman. I have a twin bed and a nosy roommate. I think we're better off doing this at yours."

"Come on, Darlin'. That's not what I meant, and you know it."

He coasted up to the stop sign on the quiet side street; he could see his little, white cottage on the next block, but he turned to look at your face in profile as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were looking straight ahead, chin proudly held high as you said, "If you really don't want to have sex with me, then turn right and head back toward Pomona Avenue."

It wasn't that he didn't want to. You were all pouty lips and feminine curves and perky tits, and yeah... he did want to fuck you. And he wanted to make it so good, you'd ask for more. He wanted to take his time and pull that first orgasm from you while he gave it to you exactly how you needed it. When he didn't turn his truck back toward Pomona, you looked at him and whispered, "It's okay if you're not into it, Jake. You can take me home. You don't have to worry about me."

He made a noise at the back of his throat and licked his lips. "That's not it." He wanted to say more, but for now, he answered your concerns by moving his foot to the accelerator and driving straight through the intersection. You visibly relaxed in the seat next to him, and a few seconds later, he was pulling his truck up to his house. You were looking out the window toward his cottage, and when you reached for the door handle, he let his hand rest on your bare knee. You turned his way immediately, and he said, "You never agreed to play by my rules."

"I agree."

He shook his head. "Then tell me what my ground rules were."

You bit your bottom lip, and he could feel you squeeze your legs together as you whispered, "You said you'd make sure I come. And that you would be sweet. And that if I tell you I'm not having a good time, you'll stop." Jake let his hand slide a few inches higher, and you responded by easing your legs apart and telling him, "I agree with the ground rules."

Jake nodded once and said, "Looks like I'm stuck with you now."

You kissed him. Somehow you caught him off guard every time you did it. You were tentative and inquisitive, and when you moved closer, his hand eased up your thigh. "You're stuck with me," you murmured between kisses. "For probably at least a half an hour." Jake started laughing, and you pulled away slightly. "What's funny?"

"Darlin', you're playing by my rules. You want me to teach you about sex? Half an hour isn't even going to be enough to get you warmed up."

You looked surprised as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair. "Teach me about sex? I thought you were just going to fuck me and call it a night."

Jake moaned. "Definitely not. Now let's get started."

--------------------------

You found yourself in Jake's living room, eyes darting around, trying to figure out what to focus on first. He was an actual adult with award commendations from the Navy and a massive TV. You felt small in his space, and some of your bravado melted away as he chuckled and said, "I'd offer you a drink, but, you know."

You tapped the toe of your sneaker against the hardwood floor and said, "According to my ID, I'm the same age as you. I like white wine, thanks."

He was trying not to laugh as he walked into his kitchen, and you followed along behind him, watching as he reached for a wine glass and filled it with ice water. "Enjoy your chardonnay, Darlin'," he drawled, and now you were also trying not to laugh.

"Thanks," you whispered before taking a sip. You tried to set your purse on the counter, but the clasp caught the edge, and both of your IDs came sliding out along with a strip of three condoms. When Jake met your eyes you said, "I made sure I was prepared before I left my place. I'm young, not stupid."

"But the Hard Deck?" he asked, closing the distance between your bodies. "Not your smartest move, parading around in there with a fake and some condoms. The guys that hang out there wouldn't know their ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to making sure a woman enjoys herself."

"You hang out there," you told him with a little eye roll, and his fingers came up under your chin. He tilted your face up until you were staring into his pretty green eyes, and your core clenched with need.

"I don't make promises I can't keep," he told you, and you absolutely believed him. "Now, you said you're a virgin, but why don't you go ahead and tell me how experienced you are."

You swallowed hard, chin still held in place by those rough fingers. "Is that really necessary? I'm ready to go, Jake." You set your glass of water on the counter next to the condoms and reached out to touch his solid abs through his shirt.

"There's a little more to it than that," he told you, stroking your jaw with his thumb. "Let's talk and get to know each other a bit."

The last thing you wanted him to know about was your complete lack of experience with guys. "We don't have to do that." 

"Yeah, well I want to," he told you, finally releasing your chin.

"You're very old fashioned," you said with a smirk, and your hands settled on his belt.

"I'm a lot older than you, smartass. Humor me." Instead of responding with anything about yourself, you held eye contact with him while you yanked the end of his belt free from the belt loops and started to unbuckle it. A smile danced along his lips, and he said, "Fine. I'll start. I'm a Lieutenant in the Navy. I grew up in Texas, but I've lived all over the country. My favorite food is chili. I love running on the beach in the morning before it gets too hot out. I have four sisters. And I'm a Scorpio."

You had the button of his jeans undone, and you were easing his zipper down as you said, "You do seem like a Scorpio, Lieutenant Jake." His green eyes were still on yours as you officially went further than you ever had with a guy by letting your fingers run along his impressive length through his underwear. He licked his lips as you reached the tip and then dipped your hand inside his snug boxer briefs. He was warm and velvety soft while also getting harder by the second, and you gasped at the look in his eyes. "Does this feel good?" you asked softly as his pupils widened.

He nodded once, and his voice sounded raspier as he told you, "Yes."

"Good," you mused out loud, unable to contain your smirk as Jake grunted softly. "If you like it, then the guy from my physics class who I want to go out with will probably like it, too."

Suddenly, Jake's hand was on your wrist in an iron-tight grasp, preventing you from stroking him. "What?" you gasped, his hand tightening incrementally as something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

"Lesson number one. When you're with a guy, and you have your hand wrapped around his cock, you shouldn't be talking about a different guy."

You pouted up at him and said, "I already told you earlier that part of the reason I wanted to lose my virginity was so it would feel good when I get with Cooper."

"And I'm telling you right now that you're done talking about him," he grunted. "Got it?"

A chill of delight ran up your spine as you whispered, "Yes. Understood."

His grasp on your wrist released immediately, and he leaned in, kissing you softly one time. "That's just a surefire way to get a guy jealous," he informed you, and another little chill ran through your body as you considered that maybe you just made him a little jealous. 

When you ran your hand along his length again, his lips were back on yours immediately, and he moved you so your leather covered butt was pressed against the edge of his countertop. Then he took your hips in both of his big hands, and you whimpered into his mouth. He teased you, pulling away slightly just so you'd chase him for more. He was throbbing against your palm as your other hand found his hair once again. 

He was sexy. Even the rough stubble on his face felt delicious as it rubbed your chin and cheeks. Then, just as his lips started to migrate along your jaw, he carefully reached for your wrist again, withdrawing your hand from his jeans. "Yes, it feels good, but this isn't about me, Darlin'."

When his lips skimmed down your neck before settling on your pulse point, you whimpered his name. Then he sucked gently on you there while he toyed with the zipper at the side of your mini skirt. He was big and strong, and he smelled good, and as he worked your zipper down, inch by painstaking inch, you shifted so you were rubbing against him.

As soon as his fingers dipped inside the elastic of your underwear, it felt like you were clenching around nothing. Usually you had to use your fingers for a while to get that kind of result, but he hadn't even touched you there yet. Then you realized you were wet. Really wet from his lips and his touch. Your thong felt damp against your skin as your skirt started to slide down your hips, and your voice was a little too loud as you gasped and said, "Okay, I'm ready. I'm definitely ready. Let's do it. Where's your bedroom?"

Jake's lips released your neck. He brought his mouth up to your ear and told you, "Absolutely not. Not yet."

Your skirt slipped a few more inches as Jake ran his nose along the shell of your ear. "God. Do you need me to ask nicely or something? Please?"

"You're playing by my rules. Did you forget? We're not rushing through this." Your skirt dropped to the floor at your feet as Jake pulled away and looked at your face. "Unless you're not having a good time, Darlin'. Say the words, and I'll stop."

You had no control of your body as your head tipped back, a low moan escaping as you said, "I don't want you to stop." You panted as you rubbed your wet panties against the open fly of his jeans. "It feels so good. But I want more."

Jake's hand found the back of your head, tilting it forward until you were looking at him again. "What do you want me to do to you?" he asked as one of his calloused fingers played with the lace trim along the top of your underwear.

"I want you to fuck me," you whispered with a moan, nodding your head as he smirked at you. 

"Really, pretty girl? You sure that's it? Because it sounds more like you want me to make you feel good." His fingers stroked up to your belly button and back down again as you bucked against him. "I think you know by this point in our conversation that you're allowed to enjoy this. And I can tell that's what you really want." 

"What could possibly feel better than getting fucked?" you asked in desperation. "I want you to fuck me!"

"No, you don't," he whispered, voice harsh and needy. He kissed you hard on the mouth two times before adding, "You want me to make you feel better than you've ever felt before. You want me to touch you with more skill than you can touch yourself. And none of that has to do with me fucking you. Tell me I'm wrong."

You bit down on your lip as his hand reached around to your butt, and suddenly you knew for sure it wouldn't have been like this with Rooster or any of the other guys at the bar. They would have fucked you and unloaded into one of the three condoms by now. Maybe you wouldn't have even gotten wet for them. You'd probably be back at your place in bed, planning on seeing Cooper on Monday morning with a new outlook on life. But it wouldn't have been like this.

Jake wanted more than that for your first time, and now you were starting to see that you could have more as his rough fingers kneaded into you. If you were already about to come just from rubbing yourself on him, then playing by his rules and letting him take his time was sounding better by the second.

You took a deep breath, let your lips brush against his and told him, "I want you to make me feel good."

"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."

----------------------------

Jake is about to show you that he's a man of his word. He keeps his promises, and he's already made some to you. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[loulovingho]

Bucktommy cuddling in bed, please? Doesn't have to lead to anything, just them being soft.

Since their third date, when Buck told Tommy about his fears after getting struck by lightning and how he spent so long texting Bobby every morning to make sure everything was alright, Buck woke up to a text from Tommy.

Without fail.

Five straight months of 6am texts. Even the days he was working, when he was already awake and had been for a while, he'd still get a text to check in.

That's why Buck's heart nearly sunk directly to the floor when he checked his phone one morning at 6:32am, right after they'd gotten back from a call, to see that Tommy hadn't texted him.

He hesitated briefly, but sent Tommy a heart, followed by a everything okay?

Another thing Tommy had always been great at is answering Buck back quickly. The only time he didn't, or couldn't, was when he was working.

And he wasn't working today.

It didn't take long for Bobby to notice him glaring down at his phone.

“What's wrong, Buck?”

“Oh,” Buck put his phone back in his pocket, waving Bobby off. “It's nothing. No big deal.”

“You sure? Looks like it might be. Everything okay?”

Buck let out a sigh, then explained. “Tommy hasn't missed a morning of texting me for five months. Every single morning, six on the dot.”

“I'm guessing there was no text today?”

Buck shook his head. “No. I texted him, but I haven't heard back. Maybe... Maybe he just overslept? Or forgot, or something.”

“Okay,” Bobby replied with a nod, “well, go get changed and head on out. We've got it covered.”

“But, Cap-”

“Shift ends in thirty minutes anyway. And we both know you won't be able to let it go until you make sure he's alright. Need Eddie to tag along?”

“N- No, I.. I'm sure I'm overreacting.”

“Text me and let me know once you know. And Buck?”

“Yeah, Cap?”

“Try not to panic.”

Not willing to make any promises, Buck turned and headed for his locker.

*****

It took him nearly half an hour to get to Tommy's place, and he didn't think twice about using the key Tommy had given him a couple months back to let himself in. Especially since he still hadn't heard a word from him.

“Tommy?” He spoke cautiously as he entered the house, trying to keep calm against all the negative thoughts running through his mind.

No answer.

The house was dark. It didn't look like Tommy had been up at all. If it weren't for his car out front, Buck wouldn't think he was there.

He moved further into the house, heading down the hall toward Tommy's bedroom.

“Tommy?” His voice was shaky this time, unsteady.

The door squeaked as he pushed it open, but he immediately sighed a breath of relief when the body tangled up under the covers moved.

“Evan?” Tommy questioned, eyes squinting toward him in confusion. “Why're you here?”

“I'm checking on you.” Buck toed off his shoes and walked over to the bed, crawling up beside Tommy. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out and resting a hand over his forehead. “You don't feel hot.”

“M'fine,” Tommy answered, wrapping the blankets tighter around his neck. His voice still sounded rough from sleep. “What time is it? You're supposed to be at work.”

“It's a little past seven. I got worried when I didn't get a text from you this morning. Cap let me leave early.”

“Seven?” Tommy looked even more confused by that. He turned and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, shoulders slumping when he confirmed the time. “God, Evan, I'm sorry. I- I didn't know.”

“It's okay,” Buck assured him. “I'm just glad you're not severely injured or dead, like my head decided you were on the way over.”

Tommy smiled softly, holding out his arms for Buck to come lay in.

Happily, Buck pushed the comforter back on his usual side of the bed and laid beside Tommy, resting his head on his chest.

With one of Tommy's hands soothingly rubbing up and down his back, and the other massaging at his scalp, Buck almost allowed himself to be completely at ease.

Almost.

Because he still knew that something was wrong, even if he couldn't quite figure it out yet.

After pressing a kiss to Tommy's pec, Buck asked again, “Are you okay?”

Tommy took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he answered. “My mom died thirty years ago today,” he admitted.

Buck stilled, then brought his arm to wrap tighter around Tommy's waist. “Oh, Tommy, I- I had no idea.” He leaned up slightly to be able to look at him. “You didn't tell me before, did you? Because-”

“No, no. I don't ever really talk about it, so I'm sure I've never mentioned it.”

Carefully, Buck rolled off of Tommy, lying flat on the bed. He pulled Tommy along with him, having him rest inside his arms instead. “I decided you're the one needing held today,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head.

Tommy laid on him with his eyes closed, listening to the sound of Buck's heart thumping in his chest. “I don't usually miss her this much,” he said. “I mean, I always miss her, but anniversaries don't usually make it worse.”

“Grief has a way of sneaking up on you when you don't expect it.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “It's kind of a pain in the ass.”

Buck huffed out a laugh. “Yes, it is.”

“I just... I think about talking to her a lot. Telling her about my life, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“And there's always been updates here and there. She would have hated me being in the army. Would've been worried sick. She would still worry about me as a firefighter, but she would have been proud. But I think,” he paused, snuggling closer to Buck, “I think this is the first time I could've told her all about my personal life, not just the work stuff.”

Buck's hand stilled from where his fingertips had lightly been brushing over Tommy's arm. “Oh yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah. All these years I've just gone over what work accomplishments I could have talked to her about. I didn't even think about that this time.”

Carefully, Buck scooted further down into the bed. He maneuvered them around until they were both on their sides facing one another. He tangled their legs together, and they each slung an arm around the other's waist.

“What would you have said?” Buck asked. “About your life?”

Tommy smiled. “You wanna hear me talk about you?”

“Oh, this life conversation includes me?” Buck replied cheekily. “I guess that's just a plus.”

Tommy stared into Buck's eyes as he thought over his words. “I would've told her that my friend Howie called me one day and asked me for an insane favor. A favor I probably should've thought twice about, but I didn't. And how he showed up with these two other guys who I'd never seen before. Then one of those guys would go on to make me happier than I ever thought possible.”

Even as he teared up, a smile grew on Buck's face. “You mean Eddie, don't you?”

That got a laugh out of Tommy. A big laugh where his eyes closed and his nose scrunched up. “I'd also tell her he always knows how to make me feel better. And he's good to me, and for the first time in my life I feel complete.”

“You do?” Buck asked, eyes going soft.

“I do. I'd tell her that this guy never stops surprising me. How he cares so deeply about everyone around him that I constantly have to remind him that he exists too. How fiercely protective he is. How safe I feel with him.”

Buck fought at blinking his tears away. He cleared his throat. “Do you think your mom would wanna meet me?”

“Oh, I know she'd wanna meet you. She'd be crazy about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Because I'd like to tell her more about her son.”

“Evan.”

“I'm serious.” Buck brought his hand to Tommy's face, stroking his cheek. “I'd love to tell her what a great job she did raising you. How gentle you are, how loving and patient you are. How you always listen, and you seem to know how I'm feeling before I do. How I- I'd love to spend the rest of my life beside you, if you'd let me.”

Tommy swallowed hard. “Really?”

Buck nodded.

It wasn't a proposal. They didn't even live together yet. But it was a promise. A promise of a future together without an expiration date.

Tommy cradled himself into Buck's arms again. “I love you so much, Evan.”

Buck held him tight, hoping the depth of love he had for Tommy could be felt through his touch. “I love you too, Tommy.”

[barcaatthemoon]

the high life || barcelona x teen!reader ||

You get caught after accidentally eating an edible at a party.

"Where is (Y/n)?" Vicky was losing her mind. The only way that Aleia had agreed to let either of you go to this party was if you watched out for each other, and Vicky had lost you nearly an hour ago. One moment the two of you were dancing, and the next, Vicky turned to see you had vanished. That wasn't like you, so Vicky was really starting to freak out the longer that you were gone. "(Y/n)!"

"Vicky, hi." It was obvious that something was very wrong with you. Vicky supported you as she led you outside and away from all the commotion of the house party. Someone would be by any moment now to pick the two of you up, and Vicky hoped that it was someone cool. Vicky didn't know what you could have taken or been given, but it was obvious that you were on something.

"Oh god, I am so dead," Vicky groaned.

"No you're not, we're so alive Vicky. We're alive, and it's beautiful!" you shouted. Vicky facepalmed, wondering if this was how Alexia felt constantly babysitting the younger girls. You were a couple of months younger than Vicky, but a whole year behind her in school. Still, the two of you were close, often being referred to as the "terror twins" of the team.

"We are both so cooked. Hey, (Y/n), I need you to do me a favor and calm down, please. Someone is coming to pick us up, and you don't want to get in trouble, do you?" Vicky asked you. You still seemed to be off in your own little world until you saw Frido's car pull up. Vicky supposed that she could work with Frido, it was better than Alexia. Anybody was better than Alexia with the state you were in, or at least that was what Vicky originally thought.

"Fridolina, oh my god, you're so pretty. I hope that I get a girlfriend as pretty as you one day," you said as you threw yourself into her passenger seat. Vicky sat silently in the backseat, hopeful that Frido wouldn't question her. "If I was older, do you think I could be your girlfriend?"

"(Y/n), shut up!" Vicky hissed from the backseat. You turned to glare at her, very unhappy with how shitty of a wingwoman she was being for you. "Please take us home now."

"Is there anything that you two want to tell me?" Frido asked as she glanced between you and Vicky. Vicky shrunk back shamefully, unsure of how to explain that you had disappeared during the party and Vicky had only just found you in your current state. "Did either of you eat or drink something you weren't supposed to? Perhaps smoked something, even?"

"I'd never smoke, it's bad for you. I just had one of the little snacks they had set out. I'm not a professional, but that was one shitty baker. Those cookies tasted like dirt," you rambled. Frido's eyes widened as she looked solely at Vicky. "Oh, wait, I saved you one. You were dancing for a long time, but then I came back to the dance floor and you were gone. Here you go."

"Nope, I'll take that," Frido said as she snatched the cookie from your hands. You frowned and pouted at the Swede, who seemed unphased. Vicky knew then and there that the two of you were not going back to Vicky's for a sleepover. Vicky was dropped off at her house, but you went home with Frido, who made Vicky promise to come into practice early tomorrow for a meeting.

…

"No, surely you cannot be talking about my Chiqui," Mapi scoffed as Frido filled her and Ingrid in on the situation. You were still fast asleep in Frido's bed. It had been a hassle to say the least to get you to sleep last night. Vicky hadn't taken anything, so after a phone call with Alexia, the other girl had been let off the hook for the time being. You, on the other hand, were practically dead to the world still. "Jesus Christ."

"Mapi, what are you doing?" Ingrid asked as her girlfriend stormed towards Frido's bedroom. Just as Mapi began to make her way down the hallway, you walked out of Frido's bedroom. You looked absolutely miserable, experiencing your very hangover of any type. Your head was pounding, your body felt exhausted, and your mouth had never been so dry before.

"Where do you think you're going you little junkie?" Mapi asked as you just pushed past her. You continued to ignore her as you poured yourself a glass of water and walked into the living room. You sat down on the couch and tried to curl into yourself, but Mapi was relentless with you. "I tell your Mami that I'll look after you, and this is what you do? Just you wait until Alexia gets over here, you are in so much trouble! I cannot believe you would do such a thing. I mean, you are supposed to be representing your town. What kind of example are you set-,"

"Enough, shut up!" you shouted. It was immediately obvious that was absolutely the wrong thing to do. Mapi's fists balled up as she just stormed out of Frido's apartment. Ingrid looked torn between chasing after Mapi and giving her space. Frido looked at you with a disappointed look, one that made your chest hurt just as badly as Mapi's words had.

"She was just upset because she cares about you," Ingrid said coldly. You quickly looked between the both of them before you got up and tried to run off. You made it all the way to the parking lot before you saw Mapi and Alexia talking to each other. You tried to turn around, but Ingrid was right behind you. There was nowhere for you to go, so you just gave up and sat down on the sidewalk.

"Ah, there she is! I bet you thought that you could make a quick break, didn't you?" Immediately, Mapi was in on you again. This time, you weren't left to be yelled at and berated. Much to your surprise, Alexia was the one who stepped in to stop things.

"Hey, calm down. Go with Ingrid, and let me talk to her. She's not going to say anything with you going at her like that," Alexia reasoned. Mapi huffed and puffed, but went to Ingrid anyway. "I hear you had a very adventurous night."

"It was an accident. How could I have known what was in those cookies?" you asked. Alexia sighed as she looked down at you. For the first time in a while, you looked just like you had at your first practice with the senior team. You had done a lot of growing up, but Alexia was reminded how young you really were. You were young, but didn't have the chance to be a normal teenager and make mistakes like everyone else.

"Like you said, it was an accident. You're smart, and you know what's at stake here, so this isn't something you would do on purpose in season. Maria cares about you, and she's scared of what could happen if the club decides to drug test you. You'll be looking at a suspension at best, but you know that already."

"Yeah, I do," you confirmed. Alexia sighed as she glanced at the lobby where Ingrid and Mapi seemed to be fighting. "I can just go back home, I guess. I've caused enough problems already. I don't deserve to be here."

"Yes, you do. You've worked hard, even more than any of us really know. So, when the time comes, you'll take your punishment and work on resecuring your spot. There will be apologies and lots of hard conversations, but none of us want to see you go, not even Maria," Alexia reassured you.

…

"Why don't you go over there and talk to her?" Ingrid asked. Mapi had been watching you for weeks. Your suspension and probationary period were over, and you had yet to even attempt to speak with Mapi yet. It had been radio silence between the two of you since that day at Frido's apartment. Ingrid was tired of it, especially since she could see how badly it was hurting both of you.

"Because she doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. I yelled at her, made her feel like nothing. I've never apologized," Mapi said. She felt an almost overwhelming amount of shame every single time that she looked at you. It felt impossible to go over and talk to you. "She won't even look at me. I lost my Chiqui."

"Don't tell me that you're afraid of a 17 year old girl," Ingrid laughed. Mapi sputtered and stammered, but made no attempt to argue with Ingrid. She was afraid of you, afraid that you wouldn't accept any apologies that she could muster up. Mapi had been so mean to you that morning, and she would have kept going if you hadn't stopped her. She didn't even mean any of it, she was just scared and angry.

"She is almost 18 now," Mapi grumbled. Ingrid rolled her eyes and whistled to get your attention. There weren't that many people in the gym left now, just the three of you.

"Chiqui, Maria wants to talk to you," Ingrid said. She walked over to the door and blocked it, meaning neither of you could leave until you talked to each other.

"I am sorry for yelling at you. I don't think you're a disappointment to your home or your Mami," Mapi started. She seemed a bit lost, like she was completely out of her depth. "You made a mistake and that's okay. I've made mistakes, and I should have shown you the same kindness that I had been shown. One day, you might be in my position, and trust me, it's easier to forgive than hold a grudge."

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you," you apologized. Mapi didn't even wait for you to finish before she was rushing over to hug you. You let her pick you up off the ground, even if she was hugging a little too tight. "Put me down now, please."

"Bagheera misses you, so you need to come back with us immediately," Mapi said. You knew that it wasn't just Bagheera who missed you, especially since Ingrid had been bringing you over secretly while Mapi worked on her little passion projects and hobbies. Bagheera had been seeing you at least once a month, but Mapi hadn't really spoken to you in almost three monhs, and it had been driving her crazy.

"I'll have to ask Alexia," you told her. Mapi brushed it off, already having been told by Alexia to fix things with you countless times. The team didn't feel right without Mapi's influence on you.

[apomaro-mellow]

steddie falls into porn cliches on accident

Steve was in the middle of washing the conditioner out of his hair, loving the silky smooth feeling and watching the water turn from cloudy to clear as it was all rinsed out. He was ready to start washing his body in earnest now, when he heard the doorbell ring.

For a second, he was ready to just ignore it, thinking it might be a delivery or someone trying to solicit. They could leave whatever they had on the doorstep or keep moving. Then the bell rang a second time and Steve remembered that he was in fact supposed to answer it.

Robin had hired a plumber to fix their sink. She told him they'd be coming between 8 am to noon. Steve had gotten in the shower exactly at eight, thinking surely he had enough time in that window. What kind of plumber showed up this promptly!?

Steve turned the shower off and grabbed the first robe off the hook. It wasn't his, he knew that. But in his defense, Robin wasn't home and he liked to air dry when he could. She could get mad at him later for snagging hers. He tied it hastily, rushing to the door before the plumber left.

-------------------

Eddie waited for the door to be answered, checking his watch while he did. Today was his only appointment, so he thought he was doing well by showing up on the early end of the window. He was ready to spout the rehearsed script when the door opened. Good morning, Munson and Son Plumbing. You got a problem with your drain pipe? Well I'm here to fix it. Fun fact, I'm a guitarist, so I'm pretty good with my hands. Anyone you know looking for lessons?

His uncle didn't always like him plugging his side gig, but putting up posters around neighborhoods wasn't quite as successful as actual face time. Then the door fully opened and he got an entire eyeful. A dripping wet god of a man, his modesty just barely preserved in a bath robe. It did nothing to hide his thick, hairy thighs or impressive chest.

"Hi I'm here to handle your pipe!", Eddie blurted out. "I'm mean I'm good with my hands! P...plumbing! I'm the plumber, I'm here for your plumbing."

"Oh, y-yeah, we've been expecting you", Steve tried to close the top of his robe more and that made Eddie self conscious about staring.

Steve introduced himself and Eddie did the same as he was let into the house, somehow not putting his foot in his mouth as he did. Steve took him to the problem sink and Eddie got to work while Steve excused himself.

He went into his room, looking for something presentable only to find it was mostly his stuff for the club. Definitely not appropriate for a plumber visit. Then he remembered why. He had started a load of laundry last night. And when he woke up this morning, putting it in the dryer so it'd be ready once he was done with his shower.

He went to the laundry room to do just that, emptying the contents of the dryer into his hamper, bending over to do so. Once he was done, he'd be able to put together an outfit that didn't make him look like a desperate housewife.

Eddie had just finished tangling with the pipe. It didn't take as long as he had expected but his shirt was drenched now. He listened out for Steve, hoping he was nearby so that he didn't have to call for him, only to hear something...odd.

He followed the sound until he came to an open door and realized what the sounds were - little grunts of effort. Eddie bit his lip, letting logic and reason work themselves out. Steve knew he had someone in the house and the door was wide open so he couldn't be-

Eddie walked through the door and there was Steve, bent over, top half in the dryer, bottom half sticking out. His robe had began to hitch up, revealing just the bottom of that perfect ass.

"Holy shit", Eddie squeaked out.

"Hey? Plumber guy? I know this is awkward but would you mind helping me out? My robe got caught on something and I can't-I can't free myself."

"Um, okay? So should I just...should I just?", Eddie got behind Steve, hands fumbling. Should he adjust the robe or would that be rude?

"Just grab me and pull", Steve said, wriggling around more and stopping when he heard a rip.

"Yeah, okay, yeah I'll just", Eddie grabbed Steve's hips and pulled, to no avail.

"Gonna have to do it a bit harder than that", Steve said. "Here I'll, I'll try and push too."

Eddie swallowed as he pulled again, Steve's hips coming flush with his own and eliciting a gasp from the other man.

"A...again."

Eddie pulled again, harder this time. He had kind of been working with a half chub. The kind Steve had to feel right between his cheeks every time Eddie pulled on him.

Steve gasped with each time their hips came together and it was getting hard to pretend his asshole didn't flutter with each movement.

"Fuck, just fuck me already", Steve whined.

Eddie wasted no time in dropping his pants and rubbing his cock against Steve's ass, precum dripping and Steve still wet from the shower. The tip slipped in with ease and then the rest of him and Steve's hips wouldn't stay still and then he was fucking him oh shit he was fucking him he was fucking a client while on the clock.

Steve's voice sounded goddamn ethereal, echoing inside the tub of the dryer. He was giving as good as he got, pushing back with each thrust and Eddie got to watch his dotted cheeks jiggle with each impact.

Eddie pushed the robe up more, licking his lips as he was rewarded with the sluttiest back arch that he'd ever seen. He wasn't going to last and this Steve guy wasn't either. Eddie came first, one hand on Steve's hip and the other bracing itself on the dryer so that he didn't fall over. Steve's cock spilled into the floor, a mess to be dealt with later.

"Fuck...you really are good at handling pipes", Steve laughed through his panting.

When Eddie left that day, he didn't get Steve's number. But a week later their company got a call about a clogged toilet and specifically requested that Eddie come over, that they only trusted his expertise. This time, Eddie wouldn't let it slip through his fingers. And this time when Steve greeted him in a half open robe, it was on purpose.