#even if it's almost definitely been done before lol

[ficfield]

Chris Redfield: General Headcanon

Request: "I saw your post wanting more requests/head cannons, and I was wondering if I could request again? if not that's chill lol. but if you are I'd love to hear your head canons just about Chris in general."

I had an idea to try and do two timelines seeing as Chris has been through a lot, so I did some for pre-trauma and post-trauma, hope you guys enjoy

Happy reading my lovelies

Pre-trauma Chris (before S.T.A.R.S & Early days in raccoon city) (Basically, before the horrors of the spencer mansion & umbrella’s bioweapons wrecked his life)

Optimistic but reckless – Chris was always a bit of a maverick, known for his rebellious streak in the air force before being discharged. He believed in justice but wasn’t afraid to bend the rules if he thought it was the right thing to do. He had an innate desire to protect people, but back then, it was driven more idealism rather than deep personal scars. 

Big brother mode��– He was probably always overprotective of Claire, even before their parents passed. He likely worked multiple jobs to support her, possibly taking on security gigs or military contracts before joining S.T.A.R.S. when she went off to college, he definitely called way too often to check on her.

Life of the party (kinda?) – Before everything went to hell, Chris was actually more sociable. He enjoyed going out for drinks with his S.T.A.R.S. teammates, cracking jokes with Barry and Joseph, and teasing Jill about being too serious. He wasn’t exactly wild, but he had an easy-going charm that made him well-liked.

Adrenaline junkie – Even his early days, Chris had a habit of throwing himself into danger. He loved high-risk activities: skydiving, rock climbing, motorcycle racing. He was that guy who thought nothing of jumping out of a helicopter for fun.

Terrible cook – The man could survive in extreme conditions but could not cook to save his life. He either ate out a lot or relied on MREs way more than he should have. Claire probably tried to teach him, but he never really got the hand of it. 

Post-trauma Chris (post-spencer mansion, post-Raccoon city, BSAA days & beyond) (Basically, after Resident evil 1 and progressively worsening after the tragedies in Code Veronica, RE5, RE6 ect…)

Burden of leadership – After losing countless teammates and friends, Chris became more of a hardened leader. He still had a deep sense of responsibility, but it weighed on him differently. Instead of reckless optimism, his hero complex became almost self-destructive. He constantly put himself in harm’s way, believing it was his duty to bear the burden. 

PTSD & Survivor’s guilt – No matter how many missions he completes, how many bioweapons he destroys, he never feels like he’s done enough. The ghosts of spencer mansion, Raccoon city and Kijuju haunt him. He likely has nightmares about the people he couldn’t save, whether it’s his fallen S.T.A.R.S. teammates, Piers Nivans, or even enemies like Wesker, who embodied the fight he could never truly escape. 

Alcohol as a coping mechanism – During his darker moments (RE6 timeline especially), Chris turned to alcohol to numb the pain. He never let it affect him in the field, but when he was alone? He drank to forget. This was especially bad after losing Piers, Chris went completely off the grid, drowning in guilt before being pulled back into the fight.

More closed off, less playful – The guy who used to joke around and enjoy team outings became more distant over time. He still cracks the occasional dry joke, but his humour became darker and rarer. Only people like Jill or Claire could get a real laugh out of him. 

Still a protective big brother – Even after everything, Claire remains one of the few people who can get through to him. He still worries about her constantly but tries not to smother her (she absolutely calls him out when he does). He keeps tabs on her work with TerraSave, sometimes anonymously ensuring her safety.

Military precision, almost to a fault – By the time of the BSAA, Chris became even more disciplined, almost machine-like. He planned missions meticulously, trained obsessively, and pushed his body to the absolute limit. He knew that one mistake could cost lives, and he refuses to let that happen again.

Aging warhorse mentality – By the later games, Chris is exhausted. He knows he’s getting older, he knows he can’t keep doing this forever, but he doesn’t know how to stop. Retirement isn’t an option in his mind, he believes the fight won’t end until he’s dead. (Or until someone, like Claire or Jill, convince him otherwise.)

Still has a good heart – Even after everything, Chris never lost his core. He still fights for the innocent, still risks his life to stop bioweapons from spreading, and still believes in doing the right thing. He’s just a lot more battered, bruised, and wary than he used to be.

[skyahri]

This is my current prompt list. Some are more developed than others and there's a few things I'm working on that aren't on here because, well, I just don't wanna share them lol. Feel free to use these as you will but please tag me! I appreciate the credit and I genuinely just wanna see what yall do with these.

MHA

Class 1A thinks Aizawa is lonely, so they steal his phone and download a dating app. Little do they know he's been married for almost a decade.

You and Bakugou reveal you're having a baby! You decide to surprise your friends before making it public, but it's turns out they didn't know you were even dating.

You'll be assisting Midnight and Thirteen in overseeing the female students at the UA Dorms. Upon meeting, Aizawa immediately dismisses you due to your less-than-professional style choices. Little does he know that your big smiles, frilly skirts, and cutesy heels are a stark contrast to your firm and assertive mindset.

Aizawa is picking Eri up from school when he runs into you- a classmates parent wanting to invite Eri to your daughter's birthday slumber party. For obvious reasons, Aizawa has reservations, but you offer to host them before hand to ease his worries. The whole thing seems terribly bothersome, but the pleading look in Eris eyes forces him to agree. Turns out, you're not so bad after all.

FTM Bakugou who is accidently outed by Inko Midoriya courtesy of baby pictures. Deku saves him in that moment, but he knows it's time to actually tell his friends. He starts with Kirishima.

(NSFW) You have a hybrid quirk and go through an estrus every six weeks after hitting sexual maturity. Still busy with your life as a third year UA student and unable to outsource your issue beyond the school walls, you look to someone just as pent up as you are. Luckily, Katsuki is more than willing to take the bait after you threaten to ask Deku of all people.

Pro hero Dynamite was spotted in public with a woman- wait, is that a wedding ring?! He'd done his best to keep you secret, not wanting you to experience the negativity associated with being romantically involved with someone famous. When fans find out, he prepares for the worst, but- wait... it seems they... love you? Possibly more than him, too!

(NSFW) After convincing Yagi to take over Aizawa's dorm duty tonight, you both make your way to a frat party being thrown at your college. He's definitely out if his element, but when his pretty little girlfriend begs him to dress up as Ghost Face and come along, he can't say no can he? Especially not when youre dragging him into the crowded kitchen for a drink and sit on the countertop, your short skirt riding up just a bit and- well, hes still a man at the end of the day. Too bad it's ruined by a handful of problem children who snuck out to be here. (All students are of age and in their third year. They just wanted to party lol)

Yamada finds a box of old pictures in Aizawas closet. When he comes across some from their teenage years, Aizawa remembers how happy you used to be before everything changed. When did you stop being... you?

(NSFW) A run of the mill mission goes sideways when the Villains have an unexpected player on their side. In an effort to protect your students from whatever mystery powder that's been thrown your way, you take the full force of what seems to be... sex pollen? You're able to save face for the remainder of the mission, but your composure is slipping quickly. Luckily, one of your coworkers is more than willing to help you deal with the... side effects.

Naruto

It's Kakashi's inauguration and Team seven is stoked! But wait, who's that woman standing next to their sensei at the podium?!

The village elders have been bothering Sasuke about reviving the Uchiha clan, going so far as offering to find a suitable candidate on his behalf. He initially declines, but as time goes on and he has yet to find a decent woman, he begrudgingly accepts.

Kakashi tasks his genin with watching over a civilian woman while he's away on a mission. Its simple enough, right? When he returns to the village and finds out they completely fumbled the mission, he's pissed. I mean how hard is it to keep his pregnant wife safe for three days?!

Kakashi has always seen his students as young, but has never thought of himself as old. Well, not until he's picking his kid up from school, where he runs into his former students, who are also picking their kids up. It doesn't help that Naruto and Sakura encourage their kids to call Kakashi 'Grandpa'.

Sasukes only friend is Naruto. That was fine when they were kids and practically only had each other, but now the blonde was a somebody, and that meant his time would have to be divided. Luckily you're around pester him in all the right ways.

(NSFW) Kakashi learns he has a size kink.

Tenzo is leading team seven back to the village, but he needs to make a stop first. It's a quick errand, one that will surely aid Narutos training, but might be a little difficult. They arrive at a house in the middle of the woods where you're already waiting for them. You look a little familiar, though. Almost like Pervy sage! (Jiraiya/Tsunade secret love child au lol)

Shikamaru is an attractive guy. He's handsome, smart, and cares deeply for his loved ones. Aside from how lazy he can be, there's nothing wrong with him. So why is it when he's seen around with you- the prettiest girl in the village- no one thinks anything of it?

Kakashi is wandering the village when he sees a new face moving into his apartment building, actually, right across the hall from him. When you turn around, he finally sees the baby strapped to your back. Being the gentleman he is (more so bored since his forced retirement), he helps you bring the remaining items upstairs. Then helps build them. And also takes you up on your offer for dinner.

Someone is messing with team seven, distracting them from their training. After spending all day trying to figure out who's behind the pranks, they come face to face with a little girl, hiding behind an oddly complex genjutsu in the trees. When captured and brought to their sensei, he taunts his students for getting bested by his six year old daughter.

ATLA

Zuko is tired of palace life, but as the Fire Lord, he can't exactly walk into town for a normal outting. He waits for the Autumn Mask Festival to sneak out, where he runs into you- a stranger willing to help him have as much fun as possible. Turns out you're the palace gardener, who immediately recognized him and decided to take matters into your own hands.

You're the decendant of an air nomad who was away from the temples to gather supplies during the raid 100 years ago. Your lineage is a well kept secret hidden smack dab in the middle of the fire nation and your parents have been diligent on passing down the knowledge of the air benders. When you hear of the avatars revival, you make your way to them and offer your teachings.

JJK

The kids having to tell their pseudo parents wives that they were KIA. Yuuji/Nanami, Megumi/Gojo.

Suguru Visits you one last time before he disappears, unknowingly leaving you pregnant. Its a secret you swear you'll take to your grave, but things get a little complicated when you start to see the curses hed been telling you about your whole lives. Then, at six years old, your daughter touches one of the creatures you'd been steering her away from, and it turns into an orb. You have no choice but to dig through Sugurus old things to find his phone and contact the one person you know could help.

Nanami lives across the hall from you. He's older, has a great job, and is a total buzzkill- but that only makes him all the hotter. Youre young, still in college, and incredibly annoying. He swears you speak another language- one chocked full of obscure references and inflated by flamboyant body language. You pester him in the halls and knock on his door to offer pastries at ungodly hours, so why did he hand over his phone so easily when you adk for his number? [Bonus!] Its been two months since your neighborly antics have turned into a full-blown friendship! You've spammed his phone with cacophony of memes and lore that he doesn't understand. You call him between classes and let yourself into his apartment to leave treats on his counter. He wants to be bothered, really, but can't find it in himself to be. You've just handed him an invitation to your masters ceremony- wait, what? His ditzy neighbor is getting her masters in aerospace engineering?!

Nosey teenage Yuuji is peering over his older brother, Sukuna's, shoulder and sees him texting a girl. He tells anyone and everyone who will listen, making them curious as to who this mystery woman could possibly be. Backed into a corner, he finally introduces you to, well, everyone, and they're shocked to find out youre a total ray of sunshine! Kind, bubbly, and a kindergarten teacher to top it off.

Sukuna, the King of Curses, is not a patient or forgiving man, but for some unknown reason, he allowed you to do as you pleased with him. You spoke freely and touched without permission, a gift youve never come close to abusing. One day he comes home from God knows what, in an obviously sour mood, and while you proceed with what you think is a good attempt to quell his anger, you're met with a slice to your cheek. It's minor, likely to not even scar, but the act is enough to cause a rift in your relationship and he has to find a way to mend it.

(NSFW) You're the best physics tutor at Yuuji's university and he's in desperate need of help. With more students than private rooms in the library, you settle on sessions at his unlces house. It's Saturday morning, you're gearing up to write an essay, only to discover you've left your laptop at his place- but that's no problem, because his uncle is home and can eat you in. Too bad he left out the part about how hot Sukuna is.

Lmao color-blind Heien Era Sukuna.

It's the middle of the night and you've been ditched by your friends at a club down town. With the last round of drinks kicking in and your phone battery running low, you call the only person guaranteed to be available on a Saturday night. Too bad that person is Yuuji's asshole older brother who's always been a little extra mean to you.

Nanami notices the shift almost immediately. In the five years you've been celebrating events at the nice restaurant down town, you've always ordered the salmon. Last time, however, you ordered steak despite how often you complain of red meat upsetting your stomach. Your occasional pining for sweet treats has become a nightly routine. A few bites of ice cream out of the freezer or something you grabbed from the konbini on the way home. Youve never used the restroom in the middle of the night before, but it's been a pattern the past two weeks. The final straw was your increased drowsiness. Youve always been an early riser, often beating the sun, but your internal clock has shifted forward. The addition of naps to your days does not go unnoticed by the blonde. You don't think much about any of these things until your husband is placing a box of pregnancy tests in your hand and asking you to trust him.

Suguru isn't sure why he agreed to a blind date set up by Satoru of all people. He's busy thinking of ways to politely escape whatever the blonde could have possibly sent his way, when he notices you taking the seat in front of his. He'd been expecting a loud, ditzy, party girl- not too unlike the ones his friend brings home on the regular- not this. No, youre obviously of higher class, someone closer to Satoru's status, if the quality of your clothing is anything to go by. You offer your name as well as your relation to Gojo, and its no surprise that your father's are long time business partners. By the end of dinner hes asking for your number, damn near vibrating in place as you type it into his contacts and send a little heart emoji to yourself so you have his too.

Your friends are complaining about men. You're happily listening, not having much to add since you're in a happy relationship, but one thing catches you're attention. "Isn't six inches kind of small?" Well, no, it's not. Apparently your boyfriend is very gifted, something you were unaware of since he's the only man you've ever been with. (Heavy Toji coded)

You don't know how you ended up here, sitting on the edge of Shoko's bed, bodies awkwardly contorted so your knees are touching hers. Her hand is in your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss. She tastes like smoke, something so undeniably her.

In an attempt to prank Nanami, Gojo breaks into his apartment to leave a little something on his counter. As soon as the front door opens, though, he's met with a frying pan stopped just short of his face. He looks from the object to you- a civilian woman dressed in only a button down- but before he can say anything you're already retreating further into the apartment. It's easy to piece together that this intruder is like your husband, so you do as instructed and run into your room, hide under the bed, and call him. He's rushes home, nearly causing an accident in the process, and is pissed to find out the threat is only his annoying coworker. He coaxes you out of the room, open arms ready and waiting for the adrenaline drop youre sure to experience. When all is settled, Gojo's only defense is that he didn't know Nanami was married.

Toji has never felt old until he met you. You bartend at the club he frequents and after shooting his shot for what had to be the hundredth time, you finally agreed to a date. Then another. And another. And suddenly he was completely immersed in the world of his twenty four year old girlfriend. It was fun at first the drinking and dancing and partying- but he's not as young as he used to be and the liquor is catching up to him. At his wits end, he finally confesses that he can't keep up. Luckily for him, youre more than happy to stay in wit your old man boyfriend.

Baby daddy Sukuna who only recently got his shit together. You'd had enough of the in and out- the inconsistency, the empty promises, the lack of support- it was all affecting your daughter. He either needed to sober up and stay out of jail or you'd move forward with terminating his rights to your daughter.

Sukuna is in charge of the company while his father is in the states for the next month. His first order of business? Firing you- his father's bratty secretary. When Wasuke finally returns and sees his prized assistant gone, he panics, thinking his son drove you away. When he learns the truth, Sukuna is sent to beg for your forgiveness.

Streamer Sukuna, who plays first person shooters and horror games, collabs with you, someone known for their soothing minecraft asmr and animal crossing videos.

Gojo thinks you've been dating for the past year while you've been pining in secret, having no idea that this man was in wayyy deeper than you.

Gojo couldn't possibly be married, right? Then who was he on the phone with that could've had such an intimate contact name? That he was calling dear and love? Yuuji and Nobara are on the case! Too bad they could've just asked Megumi, who would've told them that his pseudo father is not just married, but a father as well.

Fairy Tail

You've known Laxus a long time, always by his side to support him, even if you didn't agree with his actions, and his banishment doesn't change that. One day during your travels, he tells you to stand by, that he can feel the guild pulling him and he'll be back soon. When a month passes and there's no sign of him, you venture back to the guild only to be met with terrible news. What's worse, is youre three months pregnant.

[minecraftwolfpup]

[realjem]

neeeeed to sleep but i am instead awake writing to myself about the implications of my ocs meeting their original concepts. augh

[7kh]

༉ sevika destroying your insides (real nd true!!).

cw — wlw, strap usage, strap is referred to as ‘cock’, husband sevika/wife reader. sevika is a meanie :(. title is exactly how it goes lol. men and minors dni. (ty for 700! <3)

you’ve been pent up all. damn. week. and it would be idiotic to assume that sevika didn’t catch up on what’s up with you, especially considering that she was the cause for all of it. when she first confronted you about it, you brushed it off, excusing it for your nerves and anxiety. nerves for what? you wouldn’t tell her.

the cycle continued for the rest of the days, until sevika decided she was done playing around in circles with you anymore. she was going to figure out what the fuck’s wrong with her wife.

you sat on one end of the couch while she was on the other end, counting money she earned from some washed up goons in one of her recent gambling fiascos. the shuffling and cackling of money filled the uncomfortable silence of the room before she was the first one to speak, “so you don’t got nothing else to say?”

you swallowed nervously, your palms slowly getting more hot and sweatier on your lap. “i have no idea what you’re talking about. i told you ’m fine.” you shrugged.

she looked and raised an eyebrow at you, “bullshit.”

“what’s wrong. tell me.” she says in a stern tone, one that you absolutely had to obey, one you couldn’t just scurry out of.

after a long moment of uncomfortable silence, you sighed deeply, bringing your head down so it faced your lap. “sevvy, i’ve been really… pent up, recently.” you say, so low that you were surprised sevika even heard you. but she didn’t say anything further, just a low hum to indicate that she was listening. like she already knew what was up with you from the jump.

the room fell silent again, only sevika’s coin filling up the room. you were sure that you were going to go insane, another moment of this. she put the coins in a pouch, and set them on the table. “if you wanted something, you could’ve just asked in the first place.”

—

“mm fuck— sev, baby, slow down!” and there she was. fucking you right there on the couch, your knees practically digging into your chest as she gave you everything. “slow down? i thought this was what you wanted?” she raised an eyebrow at you again. you didn’t respond to her—more like you couldn’t. only drunken babbles of praises and her name fell of your mouth, and she smirked. she got her answer.

the ridges of her cock kissed and scratched the deepest parts of your pussy, and so effortlessly too. strong hands holding your knees up to your chest (that were definitely going to leave a mark later) tightly as she took long, deep and fast strokes, barely even giving you time to breathe a little.

she thought you were always so cute under like this. the way your eyebrows furrowed together, the way you gritted your teeth together, the way your head tilted back some as your knuckles turned almost white gripping onto nothing. “ah w—wait, fuck! wait..” you whined, begged. but it only spurred her on more, going so deep a little bulge peaked out with each thrust, earning a squeal out of you.

“yeah? you like that? this what you’ve been waiting for?” she bends down to you, her lips brushing against your skin. you could feel her smirking against your cheek. you whined and nodded your head, but that only earned you having her pull out a little, having you writhing at the loss. “your words.” she says firmly, her voice low and even. “mmmyess, yes, baby! love it so much, please—“ you let out before sevika slammed into you once more, knocking the air out of your lungs. “good girl.”

the lewd wet skin slapping that filled the room, your juices dirtying the couch and her thighs. god that was going to be a pain to clean up afterwards.

but you didn’t worry about that right now. you couldn’t. not when your beautiful husband was giving you the best dick of your life after a whole week of waiting. and of course, her beautiful wife took it like a champ.

you reached your hands up to put it behind her back, long nails subconsciously scratching her back hard to the point where she had instant deep red marks, earning a growl from her. her human hand slid down to your drenched pussy and started to rub delicate but rough circles on your neglected clit, the exact way she knew would drive you crazy. “sevvy, gonna—“ you sobbed, but she didn’t relent her pace at all. “gonna cum? c’mon. cum for me.”

with blurry eyes from your tears, you picked your head up a bit. sevika immediately noticed what you wanted and dove in for a searing kiss as you came. your thighs shook around her, sevika fucking you through your orgasm as your juices sloshed everywhere. she swallowed up your moans, your tippling praises, your cries, responding with low moans and groans of her own.

but, unfortunately for you (moreso your pussy), sevika has all the stamina in the world for you. she’s gonna the entire night fucking allll of the frustrations out of her cute wife. that’s what a good husband does, after all. maybe even make a nice meal after.

© 7KH 2024, all rights reserved — do not claim, modify, copy or translate my content.

[starryjake]

truth or dare | s.j

in which your best friend, jake, finds out you want him and makes your fantasy come true.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: f receiving oral sex, munch jake obviously, you touch his dick over the pants lol, stripping (lmk if i missed anything).

it was an accident, jake swore. not only was it an accident but it was partly your fault for leaving your laptop wide open for anyone to see.

you were in the bathroom and your laptop was pinging and pinging and pinging nonstop with text messages. jake was laying on your bed, his eyes glued to the tv, but he was beginning to lose focus from how often your computer was pinging.

finally, he couldn’t stand the sound anymore and grabbed your laptop from the edge of your bed. all he was going to do was turn it off and be done with it, but on the screen, he something that caught his eye.

your text messages were open and he saw his name so he just had to look, to know why you were talking about him with your friend.

his eyes widened when he saw why he was mentioned in your texts.

messages coming from you that started with fairly tame things like: “jake looks so good today,” “jake’s cologne is making me go crazy.”

but the more he scrolled, the more texts he found that were just purely vulgar, absolute filth like: “NEED him to eat me out till im crying,” and “bet he moans so pretty,” and even, “need his dick all the way down my throat asap.”

jake almost thought he was being pranked. he simply could not wrap his around the fact that you—his best friend of nearly five years—wanted him.

quite honestly, jake kind of thought that the two of you strictly had a sibling-like-friendship. you always teased him and fought with him like he was an older brother, and he always protected you and teased you back like you were his little sister.

but you wanted him. if those texts were anything to go off of, then you certainly did not see him as a brother.

suddenly, the bathroom door opened. jake practically threw your laptop back to the end of the bed and laid back against your pillows like he wasn’t doing anything.

you walked into the room and sat down next to him with a sigh.

“alright, did you pick a movie?” you asked.

jake wasn’t paying attention to a word you said. all he could focus on was how far you were sitting from him on your bed. how was he ever supposed to find out you liked him if you wouldn’t even go near him?

“jake,” you said, pushing his arm to get his attention.

“huh?” he said. “no, i haven’t picked yet.”

“jeez, what have you even been doing in here the whole time?” you wondered, taking the remote from him to choose a movie yourself.

you would definitely not want to know what he was doing just minutes before you came in the room.

-

jake didn’t focus during the movie. he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried.

how could he watch a movie when you were right there next to him, probably thinking about him and all the dirty things you wanted to do with him.

it was driving jake crazy. this new piece of information, this secret you’ve been carrying for god knows how long, jake had it now and did not know what to do with it.

“this movie is kinda boring,” he finally spoke.

“seriously? it’s nominated for like four oscar’s,” you responded.

“let’s do something else,” jake suggested.

huffing, you sat up slightly and turned off the movie. you then looked over at jake.

“what do you wanna do?” you asked.

jake shifted his body to face you instead of the tv. you tried to calm your thoughts, your thoughts that were far from pg, but he looked amazing. his black hair was slightly more grown out that normal and messy against your pillow. he was in a sweatshirt and sweatpants which is how you liked him best, in comfy clothes.

“we could play a game or something,” he suggested.

“what game?” you wondered.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged. “like, truth or dare or something.”

you snorted. “really?”

“c’mon,” he pouted.

by just looking at his face and that sweet little pout he gave, a flip practically switched in you and suddenly you would do just about anything he asked.

“okay,” you gave in. “truth or dare?”

jake pondered for a moment. he wanted to steer the game in a direction that would get you to admit your feelings for him. he needed to hear it from your mouth because he was still having a hard time believing those text messages.

“truth,” jake replied.

“okay,” you thought for a second. “if you had to hook up with one of your guy friends, who would you pick?”

“god, you’re the worst at asking questions,” jake groaned. “but sunghoon, obviously.”

“figured,” you replied. “your turn.”

“truth or dare?” he asked you.

considering you were comfy where you were laying in your bed, you didn’t want to pick dare in case he dared you to do something that required getting up.

“truth,” you said.

“if you had to hook up with one of the guys, who would you pick?” he asked.

you pondered. obviously you knew who you would choose but you couldn’t tell him that.

“i don’t know,” you lied. “probably heeseung.”

“yeah right,” jake scoffed.

“what?” you frowned. “he’s hot.”

jake could feel himself getting frustrated.

“your turn,” he said.

“truth or dare?”

“dare,” he answered.

“i dare you to show me the last picture in your camera roll,” you said.

you didn’t think much of it, but out of all the dares you could’ve given him, jake would’ve chosen anything else. he knew what the last picture in his camera roll was.

“actually, i pick truth,” he said.

“you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. “now you really have to show me.”

“i don’t think you wanna see it,” he tried to warn.

“what, is it a dick pic or something?” you joked. you joked. but then you saw jake’s face and his lack of words and knew that it really was a picture of his dick. “what the fuck, jake?”

“it’s not a full one,” he reasoned. “it’s just like…my bulge in a pair of sweatpants.”

yeah, you wanted to see it really bad. but you didn’t want him to know that. you didn’t need him to know that you were already getting wet at the mere thought of seeing that kind of picture of your best friend.

“well…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. “a dare is a dare.”

jake tried not to smirk. he knew it, knew you wanted to see it.

he pulled out his phone and opened the picture. it was a mirror picture. he was shirtless in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, not even wearing underwear underneath. his outline was very clear since he was hard when he took the picture.

slightly nervous, jake handed you his phone. you took it, looking at the picture. it was even better than you imagined.

he didn’t miss the way you gulped and the way you instinctively zoomed in on the picture to get an even better look.

but you didn’t say anything. you didn’t tell him he looked good or anything. you just nodded and handed him his phone back.

“ok, your turn,” you said.

“what?” jake frowned. “you don’t have anything to say?”

“why would i have anything to say?” you wondered.

“because i just showed you a picture of…well, that,” he said. “you have nothing to say about it?”

“no,” you laughed. “gross.”

you were being so hard to get, it was actually driving him crazy. he knew you wanted him so why were you being so difficult about it?

“fine,” he scoffed. “truth or dare?”

“dare,” you said, hoping he’ll take it easy on you and not make you get up.

“take off your shirt.”

you immediately gave him a glare.

“dude, what?” you said.

“a dare is a dare,” he replied, repeating your words from a few minutes ago.

“why would i take off my shirt?” you asked.

“because i’m telling you to,” he responded, his eyes darkening.

the way he said it suddenly made you really want to take it off, wanting to obey any command he gave you.

you sat up a bit and started pulling your sweater over your head. all you had on underneath was a thin, light pink bra. your nipples were visibly hard beneath it and jake was already twitching in his pants at the sight.

once your shirt was off, you looked at him expectantly. his eyes flickered down to your chest and back up to your face.

he hummed in satisfaction.

“cute,” he said quietly.

it wasn’t much but the word went straight to your face, turning your cheeks red. oddly, you didn’t feel like covering yourself up. in fact, you would show more of yourself if you knew jake was going to compliment you.

“okay,” you whispered. “truth or dare.”

“dare,” he picked again.

“i dare you the same thing,” you said.

he was hoping you would.

smirking, he pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

now, you were really starting to get nervous. you had no idea what was going on but you and jake were shirtless in your bed. you liked the feeling though, and you wanted more.

you stared at his bare chest and abdomen, the slight trace of abs making you squeeze your thighs together.

“like what you see?” he chuckled at you checking him out shamelessly. “wanna feel?”

“shut up,” you muttered, turning your head that other way.

“no, really,” jake said. “feel it.”

he suddenly grabbed your hand and placed it against his warm naked abdomen. he guided your hand up and down his chest so you could feel every part, every indent of his body.

he could tell he was finally getting to you. you were submitting to him, losing your uninterested demeanor and he was damn glad about it. he needed to uncover the you that wanted him desperately.

“mmm,” he hummed, basically moaning just from your hand rubbing his body.

he was bold when he very gently and slowly dragged your hand down even further until it was brushing over his waistband and to the front of his sweatpants, right where his growing cock was.

you looked up at his face in shock, but his eyes were closed. he was biting his bottom lip, fully engrossed in this and the feeling of your hand pressed flat on his covered cock.

he kept your hand there, not even making you move it or grip his erection, but just having you feel it. it was entirely hard and just having your hand on it, you could feel it pulsate.

weakly, you began to wrap your fingers around the outline, but he squeezed your wrist and pulled your hand off of him before you could.

his eyes opened and when you looked at each other, he just smirked.

“truth or dare?”

he asked it so calm and casually like your hand wasn’t just on his dick. you didn’t even quite know what to say, unsure how you were supposed to go about playing the game after that.

“uh, t-truth?” you sputtered out, purely confused about what was going on.

“how long have you wanted to do that?” he asked.

your heart seemed to stop beating for a moment.

“what?” you asked.

“how long have you wanted to touch my cock?” he wondered. “how long have you wanted me?”

“who said i want you?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

obviously you did want him, but you didn’t know how he knew that.

“i saw the texts,” he told you. he could still tell you were confused so he added, “the texts with you and your friend, talking about how badly you wanted me. god, the things you were saying were just filthy, y/n. i had no idea you felt that way.”

your heart sunk. suddenly, you didn’t want to do any of this anymore. you were utterly humiliated that jake found out you liked him and even more so by how he found out.

“jake, i-i—” you sputtered. “please. i don’t—”

you couldn’t figure out what to say.

“so?” he said. “how long?”

you bowed your head in shame.

“a long time,” you mumbled. “‘m sorry.”

jake tilted your head back up by your chin, smiling softly at your blushing face. you were so cute when you were embarrassed, he was almost doing all this on purpose.

“why are you sorry?” he asked. “i never said i didn’t feel the same, did i?”

this could not be good for your heart. all this slowing of your heart race only for it to pick back up again so quickly. but now you were filled with hope and excitement.

“really?” you asked eagerly, pathetically almost.

“c’mon, let’s keep playing,” he said.

“truth or dare,” you said.

“truth,” he replied.

“what did you think when you saw those texts?” you wondered sheepishly.

he chuckled a bit.

“i guess i was thinking about how i didn’t realize my best friend was so horny for me,” he said, his voice deep and sexy. you squirmed, your body unbearably hot. “now, truth or dare?”

you were nervous to pick dare to see what he would make you do next, but more than nervous, you were excited. so, you did it.

“dare.”

jake knew what he was going to dare you was bold, but he was hard as a rock in his pants and needed you now.

“i dare you to let me eat you out.”

he expected some kind of shock and disgust from you, but that was not the response you gave him.

ever since you’ve known him, you’ve wanted him between your thighs. so now that he was actually offering, why would you reject that?

“okay,” you whispered, still nervous despite wanting it.

he watched in surprise as you lifted your hips up and pulled both your pants and underwear down at once. you looked over at him, waiting for him to follow through with your dare.

“fuck,” he muttered, still in shock that you were suddenly naked right next to him. “didn’t know you wanted me that bad.”

you couldn’t argue. you did want him that bad.

he got up and positioned himself between your legs, face to face with your pussy. he held your thighs while he stared at it, in awe that it was really right there in front of him, his to devour.

“it’s so pretty,” he said, leaning in to place a kiss on your clit. “never knew my best friend had such a pretty little pussy.”

his words sent heat all over your body. you were embarrassed but more than that, you were just so unbelievably turned on. jake looked so good between your legs and you knew he’d look even better once he was actually eating you out.

“please,” you urged, jutting your hips up impatiently.

jake finally licked a stripe up your slit, starting from the bottom all the way up to the top. he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on the sensitive bundle of nerves, moaning at the taste in his mouth.

“fuckkk,” you moaned out, head falling back against your pillows.

he alternated between sucking and licking your clit, using the tip of his tongue to rub it in little circles and watching the way it moved up and down and to the side. he was eventually just making out with it, eyes closed in concentration and pleasure.

after a moment, he pulled back, a string of saliva keeping his lips attached to your glistening pearl. he then leaned back in and starting licking up and down your pussy in firm, fluid strokes, gathering all of your arousal on his tongue and swallowing it.

you dug your fingers into his hair, tugging on the thick strands which only fueled jake even more. he moaned against your cunt, eyes rolling slightly from getting his hair played with and pulled.

“you’re so fucking hot,” he said, his breath warm on your pussy. “such a good pussy too. fuck, i want it all over my face.”

he dived back in, pushing his face into your pussy as much as he could. his nose rubbed against your puffy clit as his tongue delved inside your hole. he pushed it in as deep as it could possibly go, feeling your warm plushy walls around him.

“fuck, jake!” you yelled.

he sucked on your folds and back on your clit, suddenly intoxicated by the delicious taste of your pussy. it was just so hot, so sweet and tight and perfect. he truly could not get enough and genuinely wanted to drink your arousal.

“oh my god,” he moaned. “you have the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, baby. fuck, it’s so good.”

your legs shook on either side of his head. you were feeling weaker and weaker by the second, his tongue moving like lightning and filling you with sparks.

he flicked the tip of his tongue up and down your slit, tilting his head to the side and resting it on your quivering thigh. the wet sound of his tongue flicking up and down your folds was driving you to the edge.

you couldn’t even warm him that it was about to happen. it just happened.

“mmm, i’m cumming,” you slurred, so drunk on the feeling that you could hardly speak.

you gripped his hair extra tight, pushing your hips up into his face. he ate your perfect cunt and drank every last droplet of your arousal that dripped out of you.

you were dizzy and moaning loudly and carelessly as you grinded your cunt against his face, riding out your high. your pussy was so wet, drenched in your own cum and jake’s saliva.

when you were finally finished, jake sat up and collapsed next to you, his lips, nose, and chin all glistening in your arousal.

you turned your head to face him, your cheeks red. the shock of what you two had just done was kicking in.

you weren’t sure what you two were supposed to do now and where to go from there. you were best friends and best friends weren’t supposed to do what you’d just done.

“wanna finish that movie?” jake asked casually, as though he wasn’t just tongue deep in your cunt.

“sure,” you agreed, as though you weren’t just cumming all over his face.

he wrapped his arm around you and played the movie again, the two of you laying there without acknowledging what happened.

-

:3 teehee munch jake :3 teehee best friend jake

thanks for reading!

[goldfades]

family ties | chapter one, DAYLIGHT | burrow⁹

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MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.7k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | the youngest kelce has spent her whole life navigating the chaos of her famous last name, always lingering in the background while her brothers took center stage. but when travis falls for taylor swift, she suddenly finds herself feeling like a third wheel in her own family. and after your heartbreak with an nba player, you never thought you'd find love again.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | just normal prologue stuff! kelce family bantering, mentions of jayson tatum, olivia h mention (IT WAS FOR THE PLOT I SWEAR), heartbreak (but no graphic descriptions), nothing else!

⟢ ┈ ev's notes: okay listen guys i had to think of a random basketball player and the first one i thought of was jayson tatum. if ur not attracted to him, just like... imagine someone else but the celtics are not mentioned so... it's fine!!!!! it's a minor little detail but yeah!

also, i might change some stuff that was from the OG fic just because it doesn't fit the plot i've made LOL. enjoy!

You were an accident in every possible way.

Born an astounding eight years after Travis, nearly eleven after Jason, you weren’t exactly planned. By the time you came along, your parents had been convinced they were done, their hands already full with two loud, competitive boys who spent more time wrestling in the backyard than sitting still. And then—there was you.

A baby sister in every sense of the word.

Your brothers treated you like some kind of rare, delicate thing at first, unsure what to do with you other than stare into your crib and poke at your tiny hands. But that didn’t last long. Before you could even walk, Jason was letting you sit on his lap while he played video games, and Travis had appointed himself your unofficial bodyguard, glaring at anyone who so much as breathed in your direction.

You grew up surrounded by chaos—loud dinners, backyard football games that almost always ended in someone getting tackled too hard, and a house full of laughter. Your parents tried their best to raise you with the same principles that had shaped your brothers, but you were different from the start.

Where Jason was responsible and steady, you were restless. Where Travis was loud and the life of the party, you were observant.

It wasn’t that you were quiet—no one raised in a Kelce household could be described as quiet—but you learned early on how to move through the world a little differently. Being the youngest meant you had to be quick-witted, fast on your feet, and always ready to hold your own. If you didn’t, you’d get run over.

By the time you hit high school, you had learned how to use your last name to your advantage. It got you free drinks at parties, easier conversations with teachers, and a built-in reputation before you ever had to prove yourself. But it also came with expectations—the kind that lingered over you like a shadow.

People expected you to be just like your brothers.

Maybe a little wild, maybe a little reckless. Definitely athletic. Definitely loud.

And you were some of those things.

You were an athlete, sure—your dad would’ve had an aneurysm if you weren’t—but not in the way people wanted. You had a sharp competitive streak, but you never cared about being the best. You played because it was fun, because it was expected, because you liked the feeling of winning, but you never had dreams of making it big. Not like Jason. Not like Travis.

And as for being reckless? You were a Kelce, so it was in your blood. But you were also smart. Calculated. Where Travis would throw himself into anything just to see what would happen, you thought three steps ahead. You weren’t scared of getting into trouble, but you were good at avoiding it.

That was the thing about growing up the way you did—watching your brothers carve their paths before you. You learned how to navigate things differently. You let them be the loudest people in the room while you played the long game, slipping through cracks unnoticed until you wanted to be noticed.

You didn’t date much in high school—not seriously, anyway. Not because people didn’t try (being a Kelce came with its perks), but because most boys were too intimidated by the idea of dating Jason and Travis Kelce’s little sister. You never really minded. Most of the guys at your school weren’t worth your time, anyway.

But you did notice the way people looked at you.

The way guys wanted to say they had a shot with you, even if they never tried. The way girls sometimes whispered about you, speculating if you were actually as down-to-earth as you pretended to be. The way teachers expected you to either be a slacker or a prodigy, like there was no in-between.

You weren’t sure when exactly you started feeling like an enigma—like people had decided who you were before you even had a chance to figure it out for yourself.

Maybe it was when your friends started bringing you to parties just because your last name got you through the door. Maybe it was when people started assuming you were only where you were because of your family. Maybe it was when you realized that, no matter what you did, you’d always be compared to the brothers who came before you.

By the time you graduated, you had perfected the art of keeping people at a distance. You knew how to smile just enough to be approachable, how to joke just enough to make people like you. But you also knew how to keep things yours.

And so you did.

You left home with the intention of making a name for yourself—outside of football, outside of the Kelce legacy. You weren’t running away from it, exactly. You just needed something that was yours alone.

And for the most part, you succeeded.

You built a life that had nothing to do with your last name. You found your own friends, your own career, your own world. You managed to exist outside of the NFL bubble, despite how often it tried to pull you back in. And for years, that was enough.

You were nineteen when you met Jayson Tatum.

Nineteen and reckless in the way only someone on the verge of something monumental can be—when success feels inevitable, and the world hasn’t yet taught you how cruel it can be. You had grown up in the shadows of your last name, in the periphery of stadium lights, in the echoes of your brothers’ roaring crowds. But Jayson was the first person who made you feel like the center of something.

You weren’t naïve. You knew what it meant to love someone like him—someone whose name was already in the rafters, whose presence carried weight before he even walked into a room. He was smooth, confident, charming in that way that made you want to believe him. And maybe that was the problem: you did.

It started fast, the way these things always do. Courtside seats, late-night flights, whispered phone calls from different time zones. He made you feel special, called you his “genius,” said he had never met someone like you before. But love with him always came with conditions. He loved you, but he wanted you to fit into his world, to mold yourself into the spaces left between his career, his schedule, his life. And you tried. God, you tried. You sat in the stands, smiled for the cameras, learned the rhythms of his world even when he never bothered to learn yours.

And it was never enough.

It was always push and pull, a constant cycle of breaking and rebuilding. He would tell you he couldn’t do it anymore, that you were too much, that he needed someone who understood his life. And then weeks later, he’d be back, whispering apologies, promising he had figured it out this time. And you—stupid, hopeful, nineteen, then twenty, then twenty-one—kept believing him.

Until December 2022. The last time. The worst time.

You had always been careful, always known how to exist just outside the spotlight, but this time, the breakup wasn’t just yours. It was public. Messy. Everywhere. Headlines dissecting your relationship, tabloids picking apart your heartbreak like it was something they were entitled to. Your face plastered across the internet, grainy photos of you leaving restaurants, ducking into cars, standing alone in a crowd. Strangers speculating about you, about him, about what went wrong, about whether you were as heartbroken as they hoped you’d be.

And the worst part? You were. You just didn’t want them to know it.

You had never cared about fame—not like that, not in the way the world suddenly seemed to demand from you. You weren’t built for it, for the attention, for the scrutiny, for the way people suddenly decided you were interesting now that you were broken.

It was the lowest you had ever been.

After that, you buried yourself in work, in building something no one could take from you. You stopped trusting the cameras, stopped giving interviews, stopped letting people in. And love? Love became something you didn’t have time for. Something you couldn’t afford.

Not until Joe. But that was another story.

⟢ JULY 2023

The Kelces did the Fourth of July the same way they did everything else—loud, chaotic, and with enough food to feed an army.

The backyard was still a mess from the day’s events. Empty plates stacked on tables, beer bottles scattered across the deck, remnants of water balloons forgotten in the grass. The kids had long since crashed, curled up in the living room after a full day of running around, and your parents had finally turned in for the night. That left just the three of you—Jason, Travis, and you—lingering in the kitchen, picking at the last of the food and settling in for what was, by tradition, gossip hour.

Jason was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, looking half-exhausted, half-amused as he nursed what was probably his final beer of the night. Kylie had gone upstairs an hour ago, throwing a “don’t let him stay up too late” over her shoulder before disappearing. Travis was still riding the high of a long day—barefoot, tanned from the sun, and grinning like he knew something you didn’t.

You, for your part, were perched on the counter, sipping a Coke because you had a feeling one of you needed to remain at least somewhat coherent.

“So, uh,” Travis started, reaching for the last deviled egg on the platter. “Speaking of cool people, guess who I started talking to?”

Jason shot him a tired look. “Oh, here we go.”

You glanced between them. “What do you mean, talking to?”

Travis grinned. “Taylor Swift.”

You blinked. “What?”

Jason groaned, running a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, Trav.”

“What?” Travis said, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s not a big deal.”

You snorted. “You just casually dropped Taylor Swift into the conversation like it’s the weather. That’s not normal.”

Jason pointed at you. “Exactly. Thank you.”

Travis rolled his eyes, shoving the deviled egg into his mouth. “It’s not like that. We’ve just been texting. I shot my shot, and what do you know? The Kelce charm works.”

Jason looked unimpressed. “Define ‘texting.’”

Travis chewed thoughtfully. “Like… texting.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Travis.”

He smirked. “Okay, fine. I invited her to a game. She didn’t come, but she thought it was funny. We started talking. She’s cool as hell.”

You stared at him, processing. “Hold on. You shot your shot with Taylor Swift—arguably the biggest pop star in the world—by inviting her to a football game?”

Travis shrugged. “I mean, yeah.”

Jason huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I hate that it worked.”

You leaned forward, intrigued now. “Wait, so what do you guys talk about?”

Travis grinned. “Oh, you know. Life. Music. Football. Friendship bracelets.”

Jason made a strangled noise. “I swear to God—”

“I’m serious!” Travis held up his hands. “She thought it was funny! That’s what started it, actually.”

You narrowed your eyes, skeptical. “And how often are you guys texting?”

Travis took a sip of his beer, clearly stalling.

“Travis.”

He sighed dramatically. “Every day. Okay? Happy?”

Jason looked at you, then back at him. “Holy shit. You like her.”

Travis scoffed. “Of course I like her, she’s Taylor fuckin’ Swift.”

“No,” you cut in, pointing at him. “Not just, like, ‘fan’ like her. You actually like her.”

Travis hesitated. And that was all you needed to see.

Jason whistled low, shaking his head. “This is gonna be a disaster.”

You grinned, tilting your head. “Or… it’s gonna be the greatest thing to ever happen to you.”

Travis gave you a look, something half-serious beneath all the usual bravado. “You think?”

You shrugged. “I think you have a long road ahead of you if you actually wanna date Taylor Swift. But if anyone’s got the balls to do it, it’s you.”

Travis sat back, considering that. Then he smirked. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Jason groaned. “Oh God.”

You hopped off the counter, stealing the beer out of Travis’s hand and taking a sip. “I can’t wait for Mom to find out.”

Travis laughed, shaking his head. “You’re evil.”

“You love it.”

And just like that, the topic shifted—because that was the thing about being a Kelce. No matter how big the news, how crazy the story, at the end of the day, you were just family. Talking shit in the kitchen, making fun of each other, and watching history unfold in real time.

The whole thing kind of unraveled in front of you.

One minute, Travis was dropping Taylor Swift’s name into a conversation like it was nothing, and the next, she was there. Not in a surreal, once-in-a-lifetime, see-her-from-a-distance kind of way—but in the real way. The kind where she was suddenly just… around. Sitting across from you at dinner, feet tucked under her on the couch, sipping a drink at the same backyard parties you had been going to your whole life.

It wasn’t weird, not exactly. It was just happening.

You had been close to fame before, obviously. Jason and Travis had built their careers in the public eye, and you had spent your whole life in and around that world, brushing shoulders with athletes and celebrities who treated your last name like a golden ticket. You knew how to navigate it, how to smile politely and act like it didn’t phase you.

But this was different.

Because this wasn’t just fame. This was Taylor Swift—and she wasn’t just a headline or a name on a stadium marquee. She was here, in your world, existing in it like she belonged. And the strangest part? She kind of did.

You liked her. She was easy to like. Funny, quick-witted, smarter than people probably even realized. She had this way of making everyone feel like they were the only person in the room when she talked to them. Even you, at times, when she wasn’t entirely preoccupied with Travis.

And, well. That was the thing, wasn’t it?

Because she was preoccupied with Travis.

That was the whole point.

She wasn’t your friend. She wasn’t coming around to hang out with you. She was here for him. And that was fine. It was great, actually. You had never seen your brother like this before—completely, stupidly, out-of-his-mind happy. He glowed around her, and you were happy for him.

But somewhere along the way, you started to notice it.

The third wheel feeling.

It wasn’t obvious at first. Not in the beginning, when everything was still so new and exciting and unbelievable.

But then came the dinners where you felt like a spectator to their conversations. The trips where you ended up walking three steps behind them. The inside jokes you weren’t a part of, the glances they shared across rooms like they were in on some secret that you weren’t.

And sure, Travis had always been larger than life. His presence had always been something you had to navigate around. But now? Now, there was them. And you? You were just… there.

It got to the point where even your nieces—who were still young enough to have no filter—started noticing. You’d barely sat down at one of your parents’ Sunday dinners when Wyatt, with all the innocence of a child, looked up at you and asked, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

You had laughed, mostly out of shock, but the sting was still there. And then it happened again. And again.

And that was how Elliot became your best friend.

At just over a year old, she was the only one who didn’t ask why you were always alone, or where your mystery boyfriend was, or when you were going to bring someone home like Travis had. Instead, she was just happy to exist beside you, happy to let you carry her around like a little security blanket when you needed an excuse to step away from them.

You spent more time with her than you did with the adults most nights, letting her babble nonsense at you while you tuned out the rest of the room.

--

Joe Burrow wasn’t born into greatness.

He was born into a world where nothing was guaranteed, where talent didn’t always mean success, where hard work didn’t always lead to the dream. He grew up watching his father grind his way through the football world, moving from coaching job to coaching job, never staying anywhere long enough to feel settled. He understood from a young age that football wasn’t just a game—it was survival. It was everything.

But for most of his life, Joe wasn’t the guy. He wasn’t the five-star recruit, the kid whose name carried weight before he even stepped on the field. He was good—great, even—but great didn’t always mean enough. Ohio State was supposed to be his shot, his moment, the place where he proved himself. Instead, it was where he sat on the bench, waiting for a chance that never came, watching other guys take the field while he tried to convince himself it wasn’t slipping away from him.

There were nights he thought about giving it up. That maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. That maybe football had already given him all it was going to. But he wasn’t built to quit, and when LSU came calling, he took the leap.

That was the moment everything changed.

LSU wasn’t just an opportunity—it was a resurrection. It was the first time he felt like the guy, like he wasn’t just taking up space on a roster but actually belonged there. The game slowed down, the doubt faded, and for the first time in his life, he thought: Maybe I can actually do this. Maybe I can be great.

Then came 2019. The season. The Heisman. The national championship. The moment his life shifted from maybe to inevitable. He went from overlooked to undeniable, from backup to first overall pick, from fighting for a shot to standing at the top of the football world.

And somewhere in all of that, there was Olivia.

She had been there from Ohio State, through the struggles, through the late nights spent questioning everything. She was safe, steady, someone who knew him before everything changed. And for a while, that was enough. They built a life together in the in-between spaces of his career—through the transfer, through LSU, through the draft, through the move to Cincinnati.

But something had shifted along the way. Maybe it was the fame, the pressure, the way football consumed everything in its path. Maybe it was the fact that he had spent so long chasing this dream that he didn’t know how to slow down, didn’t know how to be the kind of man who could put something else—someone else—first.

Or maybe they had just grown into different people.

The love had been real. That was never a question. But real didn’t always mean forever, and when the cracks started to show, neither of them could ignore them. The long distance, the late nights, the feeling of being together but not really together. Football had always been his first love, and Olivia had always understood that. But understanding didn’t make it easier.

By the time the breakup happened, it felt inevitable. A quiet ending, no messy headlines, no dramatic fallout. Just two people who had spent years trying to make something work, finally realizing it wasn’t meant to.

Joe had never been one for public spectacle, had never been the guy who wanted his love life picked apart. But that didn’t stop people from talking. From wondering when he’d date again, who he’d be seen with, what kind of woman would fit into the world he had built.

But he wasn’t looking. Football was still everything, still the thing that took up all the space in his life.

At least, until you.

[g4rvez-r3id]

Book Lovers

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Spencer sees you at a bookstore and buys you a book just to be able to start a conversation with you.

Category: Fluff!

Warnings: spencer being down bad for reader, spencer also being a shy lil geek, nothing bad, just pure fluff!

Author’s Note: while i work on trying to get part three of “anything for ellie” out, enjoy this little blurb lol i also wanted to add “out on a limb” mostly because i’m reading this book rn and yeaaaa

Spencer did not want to be painted like a stalker. But the way he was acting was definitely stalker-like. He’d seen you at the bookstore more times than he could count. And often times, he found himself in the same section as you. And he didn’t even like romance books.

You’d first caught his eye when he’d taken a trip to his local bookstore. He’d been passing by the romance section, when he saw you standing there, browsing through books. He’d stopped in his tracks, pretending to occupy himself with the philosophical book he’d wanted to purchase but when he saw you standing there, he focused on anything but that book.

The way you’d been focusing on the book you were holding, holding three other books in your arm. You were focused on an entirely other world and he grew fascinated by it. You were dressed in a casual outfit, topped off with a pair of black chucks. You had a small smile perched on your face as you read the back of another book. You’d been encapsulated in the book you were reading, you wouldn’t have even known if he was staring at you.

Someone had approached you, a girl. She’d been asking if you were done browsing yet and he’d figured out that this was probably your friend and the friend didn’t seem to be browsing like you were. It was like she’d been waiting on you, actually. You’d chimed in with a, “Almost done.” Your voice sounded sweet yet thick like honey.

“Now, to choose the ones I want out of this stack.” You told your friend as you looked down at your arms. “I’ve been wanting this one for a while but this one has such a good description.” You say, gazing over your options.

“Why don’t you just get all of them?” Your friend asked and he smiles to himself, because that’s something he’d ask, too. “Because I told myself I was on a book buying ban and that I still have other books I need to read. I’m on a budget.”

Spencer looked over, seeing as you skimmed the descriptions again and your friend sighing exasperatedly but still nonetheless waiting for you to pick your books.

In the end, you’d chosen three and walked down the section. Spencer had walked down to where you were previously at and scanned for the book that you were reading and luckily — with his eidetic memory — remembered what exact book you’d picked up and found that it was called Out on A Limb by Hannah Bonam Young that you’d skipped on. He remembered the look on your face and how you pointed right at the book and jokingly spoke to yourself — or rather the book, “I’ll come back for you.”

In all reality, Spencer knew that the likelihood for the book still being there when you returned maybe a week or two from now was probably pretty low. So, in the hopes of maybe taking this opportunity to talk to you, he’d zipped towards the front of the store to pay for the book before you left the store.

And when he saw that you’d purchased the three you wanted, he rushed over to you. “Uh, hi,” He greeted shyly, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. “I, um, I hope this isn’t too weird, uh…” He holds the book toward you. “I saw that you put it down and well, the statistics of it still being here when you got back are extremely low, so… here.” You gasp as you grab the book from his grasp. “Oh, my gosh. Thank you, that’s super sweet of you! How’d you know this was the one I put back?”

Spencer shrugs, “I, uh, happened to look over when you put it back.” He told and you gaze down at the cover. “I hope that it isn’t weird, it’s just… no book should be left unread, I guess.” He chuckles to himself.

“I really do appreciate this, so much…” You trail off, looking at the man for a name and his eyes widen as he smiles, “Oh, uh, Spencer… I’m—I’m Spencer.”

“Spencer.” You repeat back to him and Spencer swears he could combust just by the way you say him name. “Well, I really do appreciate this. I have to get going now, but thank you so much. Hopefully, I see more around here!”

With that, you leave with your friend and Spencer takes a breath and smiles to himself a bit. It was a start, at the very least. He cursed himself a little bit for not asking for your number but you said you’d hopefully see more of him at the bookstore.

That had to have counted for something, right?

Well, anyways, he went to that bookstore almost every single day when the team didn’t have a case and found himself strolling down to the romance section every so often and his heart twinged in sadness when he saw you weren’t there.

Days turned into two weeks and still no sign of you. And after a particular case, he’d decided to go the bookstore once more. This time, he’d just wanted to look for a book. He seemed to have given up that maybe you just weren’t interested in him and possibly decided to go to a different bookstore just so you didn’t have to see him again. He’d given up by that point.

But as he passed by the romance section — by accident, like the first time — he’d found you, sitting in a chair by the window near the romance section. He squinted his eyes, was it really you? Were you a figment of his imagination? He’d looked around, as if a prank had been pulled on him or something.

Spencer takes a deep breath and as he gets closer, sees that you’re reading the book he’d bought for you. He mumbles to himself as he approaches you and gawks at you before speaking up, “Uh, hi.”

You look up and smile, “Oh, hi! Spencer, right? I was wondering when you were going to eventually show.” You tell him. Had you been waiting on him? Had you shown when he was off on cases or at work? Did he just screw this up entirely?

“Sorry, I, uh… work can get in the way sometimes. And I had shown, I just probably showed up on the days you didn’t.” There’s a moment of quiet before Spencer points towards the book you’re holding. Out on a Limb, the one he bought you. “I see you’re reading the book.”

“Finally, at least,” You say. “I swear, I have a whole stack of books near my bed and I still need to get to reading half of them.”

“You should try concurrent reading. Instead of committing to one book at a time, you read several books concurrently. You can switch between them based on your mood, interest, or level of engagement at any given moment. It can stimulate your brain, improve your focus and you’re short-term memory and it keep your desire to read alive.” Spencer explained and you looked at him with a smile and he closes his eyes. He really needs to learn how to have a normal conversation. He can already hear Morgan’s sigh in the back of his mind. “Sorry, I, uh, my colleagues say that I tend to ramble a lot.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” You tell him. “I have actually thought about reading two books at once, I just thought it was weird.” Spencer decides to take a seat in the chair next to you. “It’s definitely not weird. I mean, I’ve read fifteen books in one day. And I do it all the time.”

You look at the man in disbelief, “Okay, there is absolutely no way you’ve read fifteen books all in one day.” It was too good to be true, he understood. “I have an eidetic memory and I can read 20,000 words per minute so for me, at least, it’s possible.”

“What are you, some kind of genius?” You chuckle and scoff. “Yeah, actually, I am.” Spencer said. “Although, I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified.”

You stare at Spencer — he can’t tell if it’s in astonishment or disbelief. Maybe both. “You are hereby the most interesting man I’ve ever met.” You laugh and Spencer stares at you. He can’t believe he’s gotten this far talking to you. And you’re incredible and funny and beautiful.

You both sat there for at least two hours, just talking to one another. You’d asked about other benefits to concurrent reading, you’d asked about other facts but eventually had to stop himself because he wanted to know more about you. He’d found out that you often went to the bookstore with your friends because you didn’t have a car but this time, a friend had dropped you off and you’d admitted you hoped to see him today. He’d also found out that your area of expertise with books had to do with romance books, since it was the only genre you read. Or the only genre you wanted to read, at least. Your dream was to work at a bookstore, or write your own stories, your favorite color was yellow and that you spent most of your time reading instead of going out on dates.

Eventually, time rang up and your friend showed up back at the bookstore and texted you to meet her outside. Spencer stood, even opting to help you stand as you both took the nearest exit.

“Well, this was fun, Spencer.” You tell the man and he nods, “I agree.”

There’s another brink of silence when Spencer finally speaks up, “Uh, I’m-I’m sorry if this seems too forward, but… could I… get your number?” Morgan’s voice appeared again, this time cheering him on.

“Oh, you’re so sweet but—” But you had a boyfriend. But you found him unattractive. But you found him weird and unattractive. The scenarios played in Spencer’s mind. All of the worst ones. “But I don’t give my number to people I hardly know. For safety reasons, you understand?” Spencer nods, that’s completely understandable. For all you know, he could be a murderer. Which was definitely the complete opposite from what he actually was.

“Totally understandable,” Spencer says. “If it helps, I work at the FBI.” You raise a brow, “FBI?”

“Behavioral Analysis Unit,” He says, pulling his badge out to show you and you take a look at it with wondering eyes.

“Here,” Spencer digs in his pocket and pulls out a card. “This is my card, it has my phone number on it and if you’d like, you can take your time and wait until you’re ready to call or text me.”

You look at the man, “Okay, then.” You smile and your friend honks her horn, indicating that she’d been waiting long enough. You chuckle and look back at the man, “I won’t leave you hanging for too long, Dr. Genius. I hope I see you soon.”

“I hope I see you soon, too.” Spencer replies and you wave as you walk to your friend’s car and he waits until she drives away with you in the car to finally leave the bookstore.

Spencer’s mind was only filled with thoughts of you. Thoughts of facts about you, thoughts of your laughter and humility. And the fact that you were careful. He’d liked you. That was as far as he knew. And he really meant it when he said ‘I hope, I see you soon, too.’ And he hoped that you’d call him soon.

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 2 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.8k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, adult themes (not smut lol) (yet) (jk) (unless...), the mission finally starts, so much plot from here on out y'all so buckle up

a/n. i didn't get to include the most important bits that were supposed to be presented in this chapter because i got carried away with the buildup lol. exciting times ahead y'all. i have so much in store for you with this series. don't be a stranger and let's talk!

links. masterlist, ao3

You can only stare back at the woman peering at you, her face painted with a thick layer of makeup, her hair styled to staged ‘effortless’ perfection, and her body wrapped in an outfit that’s equal parts provocative and refined.

Her image is so flawlessly curated—so much so that you barely notice the apprehension that’s hidden amidst her features, if it weren’t for the fact that that woman is you.

You can barely recognize yourself—and perhaps that’s the point of all this.

Asahi and Moriyama didn’t have to explicitly state it yesterday—they need you to put in every ounce of effort to make sure that you succeed, and that includes doing everything you can to supplement your quirk all the while keeping your real identity lowkey.

Even if it means looking like this.

You’re about to give in to your second thoughts and change out of the black, low-cut tank and beige cardigan you have on when an array of knocks echo from what you think is your front door, and you freeze.

With a cautious glance at your bedroom’s wall clock, you think you’re supposed to feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that it’s 9:00 PM on the dot, the exact time Bakugou said he’d pick you up, which means no villain or mal intentioned person is at your front porch, but that doesn’t come.

Instead, the sense of dread that’s been stirring in your gut ever since you got swept by Asahi’s men yesterday only magnifies, leaving you a bit cold and…are you shaking?

You don’t get to dwell on that, though, because another round of rapping resonates from your foyer again, which somehow pulls you out of your nervous stupor. You hurriedly run to the door, not even bothering to check through the peephole, opening it with a turn of the knob to see Bakugou.

Wearing a white face mask and decked in a fitting black hoodie, with his ash-blonde hair peeking through the sides of a dark baseball cap.

His fist is frozen mid-air as he stares at you, eyes slightly widened in shock, as if he didn’t believe you’re capable of this thing called punctuality. He promptly brings it down, though, schooling his expression into a neutral one, but not before giving you a quick once-over.

“Hey,” he offers, voice gruff and way lower than you remembered it back in high school.

“Hello,” you counter, looking back at your messy apartment out of habit. “I’m almost done. I just need to grab my purse.”

And, because you genuinely need to know for the sake of what you’re about to do, you ask: “Do I look okay?”

He must’ve not been anticipating that question, because his eyebrows furrow ever so minutely like you just caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he eventually replies after studying the entire length of your body once again.

And, you may have just imagined it, but you swear to god his eyes linger on your chest for a beat longer than necessary before he meets your gaze.

“You clean up…” he pauses, like he’s grasping for the right adjective, before settling with: “…decent.”

At that, you feel yourself deflate a bit. Maybe you wanted a more affirming answer, definitely not because you want that from him, but because you need to look good. However, if there’s anything the rumor mill told you back when you were still teenage students, it’s that Bakugou Katsuki was a man of few words when he was serious, let alone appreciative, so you take his comment in stride.

Besides, in comparison to how you looked yesterday, anything is an improvement, really.

“Thanks,” you respond, and you debate for a second whether or not to say the next thing but ultimately decide on it. “…And you look mildly disguised.”

That seems to ruffle Bakugou’s feathers. “Mildly?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling unsure about your honesty. “I get the hoodie and the cap and the face mask, but there’s no hiding your hulking frame, man.”

And really, there isn’t. How are you supposed to conceal a torso as large as that?

You gesture to his chest and shoulder area for further emphasis. “I don’t think you can pass up as a regular citizen but like as a non-descript athlete, maybe?”

To your dismay, Bakugou merely grunts before shaking his head. “This’ll work.”

Apparently already over your suggestion, he glances past your shoulder as he shifts his weight on his other foot. “Can you grab your purse now? We’ve to get going.”

Now, you’ve got half a mind to argue and try to convince him that maybe going for a better disguise is better in the long run but you’re silenced by his domineering gaze. So instead, you nod before rushing back to your bedroom and grabbing the bag you already prepared beforehand, as well as your phone that’s charging on top of your bedside table.

Although it won’t be of much use later, or in the coming few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.

“Ready?” he asks when you return to the doorway with your things in tow.

“Yup,” you retort as you lock the door behind you, and just like that, you’re well on your way to a potential death sentence.

You’re in the elevator going down to the ground floor by the time he speaks up again. “We’re commuting,” he starts, not looking at you but instead scrutinizing the barely hanging on floor buttons. “Can’t risk raising suspicion by driving there.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” you ask just as the elevator dings, signifying your arrival.

The doors burst open, and he steps out. “You’ll see.”

The commute to wherever the hell it is you two are going is quiet.

Bakugou didn’t divulge any further details as you stepped out of your building, wordlessly ordering you with a stern look to just follow. Frankly, you don’t like how you’re being kept in the dark, but you don’t contend. You’re acutely aware that you have a limited number of cards to play with Bakugou, and you have to play them right, if you want to even survive this mission without your partnership falling apart and jeopardizing the entire thing. Wasting a card on stupid information would be downright foolish on your end.

Even the walk to the bus stop is silent, and so is the entire ride. Despite it being quite late into the evening, the vehicle is still somewhat crowded, which you chalk up to it being a Friday night. You find yourself relaxing in your seat as the realization dawns on you—perhaps there was no point in getting too riled up about getting noticed.

And besides, you’re taking extra precautions, too. You’re not sitting next to each other, because he’s trying to stave off attention while you’re straining to catch it. Maybe not of these strangers, but of the people you’re going to meet later on.

Roughly 10 minutes and a short subway ride later, you climb up the underground stairs to a stop you vaguely remember hearing from your coworkers about. You recall how she described an old party district right in the middle of Musutafu, and sure enough, the text on the street signs match the name she recounted during one of your lunch breaks.

“Over here,” Bakugou calls out from a few feet ahead of you. You quickly quit your observing and follow suit, mindful of keeping an appropriate, not at all questionable distance between the two of you.

After what felt like walking five blocks from the subway, you see Bakugou halt and make a left into a poorly lit alleyway. You hesitate for a second, having been on autopilot and going straight for the last how many minutes. You’re able to swiftly gather yourself, though, steering in the same direction.

The moment that you do, it instantly registers to you that you’re not just in the party district anymore. If the dingy signages and the palpable seediness of the alley are any indication, you’re most likely in the red-light district now.

Suddenly, everything feels a bit too real, and you barely catch yourself stumbling back on your feet. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou, who instinctively moves to reach out for you from where he’s standing. He pauses, though, when you’re able to regain your bearings with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Sorry,” you offer meekly.

He eyes you with the very same inexplicable expression from before. “You good?”

You’re not about to tell him you’re scared shitless, so you give him a half-hearted nod. Turning to study the exterior of the small building, you take in the lightly peeling paint and the booming music emanating from it. “This the place?”

“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Are you sure you’re good?”

You whip to look back at Bakugou, who, if you didn’t know any better, is now looking apprehensive.

You decide then and there that you have to get your shit together.

Bravery is contagious, but so is fear.

For a second, you contemplate using your quirk on yourself to calm your nerves down, but eventually decide against it. There are much bigger fish to fry tonight, and what’s the point of learning all those damned breathing and grounding techniques if you’re not going to use them?

“I’m ready,” you finally tell him after a moment of both of you standing there. “Let’s go in before we start looking unusual out here.”

If Bakugou notices the unease you’re sure you’re radiating, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gives you a curt nod, before turning to open the door.

And when he does, you’re almost instantaneously flooded by the music that was just escaping through the cracks and crevices of the run-down building. You fight the instinct to cover your ears as you step into the large room behind Bakugou, eyes quickly darting all over the place to drink in the scene before you.

Right in the back of the space is a stage that extends in the center as a runway to the middle of the room. The orange and pink mood lights illuminating the area are relatively dim minus the bulbs lining the set and walkway. And, beneath the elevated platform are what have to be pleather seats littered all over the floor—all of which are occupied by decidedly rambunctious men.

You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose as their boisterous laughter fills your ears, opting to face Bakugou instead.

“Hey,” you call out to him, who stops in his tracks to look at you. You sneak a glance at the people at the bar nearest the two of you, just to make sure they’re not listening in, before you continue. “Are you sure this is the place?”

You don’t have to peek beneath his mask to know he’s now scowling at you.

“What am I, a dumbass? I told you, this is it.” He then shifts away from you, far enough that you barely hear his next words. “…It has to be.”

Well.

That’s not exactly comforting.

Your discomfort only heightens when the already faint lights dim further, and the music switches from a pop song to which you know a bit of the lyrics to a rap that, if you were to base it on the first phrase, is all about having explicit, unprotected sex. The crowd of men cheers in anticipation, and as if on cue, a woman dressed in nothing but a two-piece lingerie emerges from the back of the stage, confirming your speculation of what the place is.

A strip club.

You watch as the woman confidently struts towards the center, and apparently, you’re no better than any of the men here because your gaze slowly roves over her slim and toned body, eyes catching at her cleavage that’s leaving nothing to the imagination. You can’t help it—you look down at your own chest, sinking in disappointment at the contrast before promptly looking up in embarrassment, only to find Bakugou studying you closely.

“It’s a strip club,” you blurt out, flustered at getting caught in the act. His eyes only narrow in a way that tells you what you’re already telling yourself: Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, much to your relief, only moving to the far corner of the room where there are miraculously two seats unoccupied. You follow him with no further questions asked, plopping in the chair to his right, thankful you’re wearing black trousers so that your skin doesn’t have to go into contact with the sticky furniture.

You take the opportunity to clock the rest of the room, cataloguing the bar at the other end of the area near the entrance where a barista is swiftly taking and making orders all at the same time, while the men seated on the stools struggle to decide whether to look at the man or at the stripper now performing an elaborate dance around the pole. Amidst the decorated wall adjacent to the bar is a door with a restroom sign on it, and you squint just enough to see it’s only one stall for everyone. You make a mental note to hold in your pee, at least until you get out of here.

And, because you’re feeling nice, you shift to regard Bakugou with a good-natured smile on your face. “I hope you peed right before leaving your house.”

“What?” he says loud enough for you to hear him over the noise they’re calling music. “I can’t hear you.”

“Shit, right.” You lean in ever so minutely, and Bakugou mirrors you. You try to ignore the new-found proximity. “I said,” you repeat, with a little more volume this time, “I hope you peed right before fetching me. I bet the toilet’s filthy as shit.”

To your delight, not that you’d admit that to him in this lifetime, Bakugou smirks at your little quip after confirming the lone comfort room with his own eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he starts, and you stiffen at the nickname, “I’m not the one who has to sit on one.”

You’re about to retort with something along the lines of what if he has to poop out of the blue, or at least try to, because the pet name has you gagged against your better judgment, when a ridiculously tall man clad in all black appears out of nowhere, startling you.

“The f—”

“Dynamight,” the behemoth of a guy cuts you off, eyes trained on the pro-hero beside you and completely ignoring your presence. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Took you long enough to approach me,” Bakugou sneers, oozing with the confidence you can’t find within yourself right now. “I hate sleazy places like this.”

To that, the man only bows his head slightly, face solemn but devoid of remorse. You watch him as his eyes finally drift to you, albeit for only a split second, before looking back at Bakugou. “Follow me, sir.”

The ash blonde does so, perhaps a tiny bit begrudgingly, and you speedily get up along with him. The two men turn to move, and you’re about to take a step closer towards their direction when a long arm shoots up in front of you, keeping you in place.

Any protests die in your throat when you look up and see the guy’s menacing glare.

“If you don’t mind,” he grits through his teeth, “Only Dynamight is needed.”

“She’s with me,” comes Bakugou’s commanding tone. You chance a glance at the pro-hero, whose countenance is so serious you’d be afraid if you were the one he’s talking to.

“But, sir—”

“It’s the two of us or we’re leaving,” Bakugou demands.

The two engage in a stare down which you witness for what feels like a few minutes before the man finally looks away, frustration etched across his intimidating features. He glares at you once more, as if you’re the one who’s insisting on being Bakugou’s plus one, and you’re about to be convinced that he’s mentally chanting a spell to make you disappear when he gestures for you to follow him with a flick of a head.

You gradually release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shadow them as they enter one of the doors on the wall perpendicular to where you were just stationed. It leads to a staircase that swerves in the middle, and you lock eyes with Bakugou as he makes the turn ahead of you. Neither of you says a word, opting to keep on trailing the man, even as you land on the second floor, which looks more and more like a prostitution den.

Once again, your conjecture is confirmed as you walk down the hallway and past several sets of doors on both sides, from which emanate a cacophony of sensual moans and groans. You wonder what Bakugou’s thinking right now, although you can’t get a read on him as you can only observe his backside.

Finally, after what seems like a tortuous eternity, the man stops right in front of the door at the end of the hallway, and you pause right behind him.

He looks back at Bakugou and you with what you’re pretty sure is caution, before knocking on the door twice, and then another two times but in rapid succession.

“Come in,” is what the muffled voice on the other side says.

And so you do.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, because you’ve never actually been in a service room before, but you at least anticipated a bed on which certain…activities can be done.

But what you’re met with instead seems to be a refurbished lounge room with floor-to-ceiling brick walls, black and red quilted couches, and a bar at the far side all lit up with moody orange lighting.

And smack dab in the middle of it—sprawled so languidly all over the furniture—are three individuals.

Three individuals who immediately look at Bakugou.

It’s them, alright. You don’t need your extensive training in reading people to know that these are the ones you came all the way here for.

You quickly take note of their appearances. The seemingly old man who has to be in his late 50s is seated—quite relaxed—in one of the scarlet solo chairs. He’s slim, bordering on frail, but the glint in his eye as he peers at Bakugou tells you that it’d be unwise to rule him out as one of your main threats.

Juxtaposing his age which is further revealed by his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is the young woman plastered on the couch adjacent to his.

Or maybe ‘woman’ is a bit too generous…

It’s not obvious at first glance, but you immediately notice how some of her body parts appear to be outright robotic in the literal sense. Perhaps it’s her long, pin-straight, jet-black hair that softens her entire look, but there’s no mistaking what seems to be an artificial left eye, a metallic right arm, and angled, silver lips. She’s wearing long pants so there’s no telling which other parts of her are made up of what you think is steel, but the ones visible to you already tell you enough.

And then there’s the third and last man, who, in comparison to the other two, is remarkably…plain.

There isn’t an air of age-induced wisdom around him, nor is there anything peculiar about his body. He looks like just about any other 40-year-old-ish Japanese man you know, with short black hair, an unassuming face, and semi-formal clothes that are quite loose on his not-buff but not exactly thin body either.

But to your surprise, it’s him that the hilariously huge guy from earlier directly reports to.

“Pro-hero Dynamight, sir, as you requested. And…” the ‘escort’ trails off, and for a split second, you feel kind of sorry you’re here and making things complicated for him. “…he brought company.”

“Finally,” the plain-looking man pipes up from his seat, and even his voice is generic. “And here we thought you were never going to come meet us.”

Placing what suspiciously looks like a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, the man shifts to fully regard Bakugou. “I see that you’ve deciphered the messages we’ve been sending you?”

“No shit,” comes Bakugou’s blunt response, and for a beat, you seriously consider using your quirk on him to make him calm the fuck down.

You decide against it.

To your chagrin, he drones on. “Y’all gotta do better. That was barely even a code.”

At that, the old male barks out a laugh while the plain-looking man only chuckles. “Of course, we expect nothing less from the #2 pro-hero. But…” the latter trails off, eyes finally landing on you. You quickly put on the most endearing smile you can muster, suddenly regretting not touching up your makeup upon sitting earlier. Thankfully, though, he smiles back, before redirecting his focus back on Bakugou.

“I see you brought precious cargo. Is there any reason why she’s here with us?”

“We want in your organization,” Bakugou replies without hesitation. “The both of us.”

And when none of them say anything in response, Bakugou presses.

“You need me, right? I heard you’re planning an attack. I want to join.”

“Yes,” the old man finally speaks up, not even denying it yet his voice is riddled with misplaced humor. “We do, in fact, need you. But what use do we have of this girl?”

“She’s got a useful quirk,” Bakugou supplies, before turning to look at you and then back at them. “Luck. She boosts the success rate of anyone she works with.”

“Luck?” the old geezer says back so incredulously, you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. If he only knew what you were fully capable of. He can’t, though, if you want to get out of this entire situation alive. “I don’t think we’ll need that as long as we have you, boy.”

“Well, tough luck,” spews Bakugou, a little bit too sarcastically for your comfort. “Because, as I’ve told your little lackey here,” he gestures to the definitely not little guy from earlier, “It’s both of us or I’m out.”

“The both of you, huh?” muses the plain-looking man who’s seeming to be more and more like the leader of the group by the second.

Once again, silence envelopes the room when none of them utter a single word, with you and Bakugou watching in anxious (you) and impatient (him) anticipation. You observe their facial expressions as they have a wordless exchange, and judging by how the ancient and the robotic girl are looking at the ordinary man, you guess your hunch about him is right.

Eventually, they appear to reach an agreement, and the leader adjusts just enough to look at the both of you directly.

You brace yourself with bated breath.

He flashes you a modest smile.

“It’s a deal, then.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses | @junehasnotbeenfound @sugalarity @haechansbbg @sikuthealien @reiniella3 @ita606 @xoxoblueyy @mutsu422 @eyesforbkg @kalulakunundrum @venus-xxoo @lemuhr @pinkpantheris @ashers-playpen @bakugouswh0r3 @certaindreampost @3ve88 @tsumuus @4acoffee @anonymity-222 @lousypotatoes | @matchat3a @harryzcherry @h0nestly-though @cc1306 @gold24fish @bakukags @zennypiee @wannabewolf @kameko-ko @lovra974 @arc6021 @kooromin @surprisemodafakas @ilovedenk-i @st4ntwic3 @j1tterbugaboo @call-memissbrightside @arael-asuka @bakugosgothhoe

[talaok]

Like a Virgin

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.

warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol

Now this wasn't like him.

He hadn't done this in a long time.

The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.

But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-

And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?

Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.

You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.

He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.

God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.

And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.

"Joel please"

Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.

Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.

"need something?"

He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.

"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"

fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.

He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:

"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.

"want me to stop?"

For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips  

"Definitely not"

You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze

He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.

"Good christ"

that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.

"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.

"Joel please-"

"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.

He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.

The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.

"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this

"god you're so deep"

Yeah, you definitely knew

"and so big-" you cried

He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.

"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.

"just like that Joel- oh-" 

And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.

"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.

And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore

"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.

"why?" 

"nothing it's just-"

And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.

Goddamnit.

"you just feel too good Joel" 

"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"

"what is it?"

"Jesus Christ I-"

"is there something wrong?"

"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"

And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.

"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together

"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.

"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"

You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.

"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"

You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.

"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"

"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head

"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"

He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs

"that I can do"

[favefandomimagines]

Labyrinth (j.b)

Summary: the six most prominent moments in Joe’s relationship with Y/N Y/L/N

AN: a little combo of regular fic and an SMAU fic!! My first Joe Burrow fic too so there’s a lot of firsts going on lol

She’s a long one!!! And I hate the ending but oh well

One.

It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon at the Bengals’ practice facility, and Joe Burrow was seated next to the host of a Barstool podcast.

He didn’t do these interviews often but with the pre-season in full swing, he had a couple on his schedule. After answering a slew of football-related questions, the session took a lighter turn when the host decided to inject some fun into the conversation.

“Alright, Joe,” the host said, his voice playful. “We’ve been talking about your game on the field, but what about your game off it? Who would you say is your celebrity crush?”

Joe leaned back in his chair, scratching his neck thoughtfully. For a moment, he seemed like he was genuinely debating his answer. Then, a small, almost shy smile spread across his face.

“Celebrity crush?” he repeated. “I guess... Y/N Y/L/N from Outer Banks. She’s got this whole vibe—talented, gorgeous, and just really cool. Yeah, definitely her.”

The room erupted in laughter and teasing comments. The host muttered, “Good taste,” while the other joked, “Sliding into her DMs soon, Joe?”

Joe chuckled, shaking his head as if to brush off the attention, but the damage was done. Within hours, the clip of his admission was circulating on social media. Sports accounts, entertainment outlets, and fan pages had all picked it up. Memes popped up with captions like:

When your MVP is also a hopeless romantic, and Quarterback Joe Burrow shoots his shot.

Across the country, Y/N was sitting in her trailer on the set of Outer Banks, scrolling through her phone between takes. She hadn’t even made it halfway through her notifications before Madelyn Cline burst into the room, phone in hand.

“Did you see this?” She asked, her tone giddy.

“See what?” Y/N asked, setting her script aside.

“Joe Burrow—like, the Joe Burrow—just said you’re his celebrity crush during a press conference.”

Her brows shot up in surprise. “Wait, seriously?”

Madelyn thrust the phone toward her, showing her the clip. Y/N hit play, watching as Joe, clad in his Bengals gear, casually named her as his celebrity crush. At first, she laughed—a light, disbelieving sound—but as the video looped, she couldn’t help but notice the genuine look on his face. It wasn’t cocky or rehearsed. It was… sweet.

“Well,” Madelyn said, smirking, “looks like someone’s got a fan.”

“Yeah, a fan who’s, like, an NFL star,” Y/N quipped, trying to brush it off, though her cheeks had turned a noticeable shade of pink. “He probably says stuff like that all the time.”

“Oh, no way. That guy does not look like he just ‘says stuff.’ You should DM him. Or better yet, I’ll DM him for you!”

“Absolutely not,” Y/N said, laughing as she snatched the phone back. But later, when she was alone, she replayed the clip a few more times, unable to shake the warm, fluttery feeling in her chest.

Across social media, fans were having a field day. Football fans and Outer Banks fans joined forces, shipping Joe and Y/N like they were characters in their own romantic drama. Someone tweeted:

Joe Burrow x Y/N? A crossover episode I didn’t know I needed.

Even Y/N’s manager brought it up during a call the next day. “The press is eating this up. We could lean into it if you’re comfortable.”

Y/N sighed. “He seems nice, but… let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

“Noted,” her manager said, though the tone suggested they were already envisioning the headlines.

Still, the attention lingered. For Joe, it became an inside joke with his teammates.

“You think she’s seen it yet?” one of them teased during practice.

“She probably has,” Joe said, trying to sound casual, but the truth was, he kind of hoped she had.

And for Y/N, every time she opened Instagram or Twitter and saw a fan edit pairing her with Joe, she couldn’t help but smile. Little did either of them know, this was only the beginning.

@y//nofficial: my babes (also being the celebrity crush of a nfl player is my finest achievement in life 😉)

Two.

Months had passed since Joe casually admitted to the world that Y/N was his celebrity crush, and while the media had gradually moved on to other stories, the moment had left a lasting impression on both of them.

For Joe, it had been nothing more than a lighthearted, honest answer in the moment. But as he followed Y/N’s career—watching interviews, catching glimpses of her on magazine covers, and finally binge-watching Outer Banks during the offseason—he couldn’t deny that his admiration for her had only grown.

For Y/N, Joe’s comment was a flattering blip in her increasingly busy schedule. Between shooting a new season of Outer Banks and fielding scripts for movie roles, she hadn’t thought much about it—at least, not until their paths crossed in the most unexpected way.

It was the night of the ESPY Awards, a glittering evening celebrating the best in sports. Joe had been invited after leading the Bengals to a playoff run that cemented his reputation as one of the league’s brightest stars. Y/N, on the other hand, was there as a presenter.

The after-party buzzed with energy. Athletes, actors, and industry power players mingled in the event space. Joe wasn’t one for crowded events—he preferred the quiet camaraderie of a locker room—but tonight, he was making an exception.

As he sipped a drink and scanned the room, his eyes landed on her. Y/N was standing near the bar, wearing a sleek, gold dress that caught the light every time she moved. She was laughing at something one of her co-stars had said, her smile lighting up the space around her. Joe’s heart skipped in a way he hadn’t felt before.

“Dude, you okay?” one of his teammates asked, noticing the quarterback’s sudden silence.

“Yeah,” Joe said, setting his glass down. “Be right back.”

Joe didn’t overthink as he crossed the room, his long strides purposeful yet casual. For someone who thrived under pressure, he was oddly nervous. As he got closer, Y/N glanced up, her gaze locking with his. Recognition flickered in her eyes, followed by a warm smile.

“Hi,” Joe said, extending a hand. “I’m Joe.”

“I know,” Y/N said with a teasing glint. She took his hand, her touch firm yet delicate. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” he shot back, his grin widening. The exchange was simple, but it broke the ice between them.

For the next few minutes—or maybe it was hours; neither of them kept track—they talked like old friends. Joe told her about his first football game as a kid, the way his dad had coached him to stay grounded, and the chaos of his rookie year in the NFL. Y/N shared stories about her early auditions, the nerves of landing her breakout role, and the unexpected challenge of filming on a boat in stormy weather.

“So,” she said at one point, her tone light but playful, “am I really your celebrity crush, or was that just something you said for the podcast?”

Joe laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made her smile. “It wasn’t just for the podcast. You’re… incredible. I meant it.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed, but she didn’t shy away from his gaze. “Well, thank you. That’s sweet of you.”

The night wore on, and the party began to thin out, but Joe and Y/N stayed rooted in their little corner of the room, oblivious to the time or the world around them. By the end of the evening, Joe had her number saved in his phone under her name, followed by a football emoji she insisted he add.

As they said their goodbyes, Y/N looked at him and said, “It was nice meeting you, Joe. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Definitely,” he replied, his smile tinged with quiet determination.

The next day, during an interview recapping the night, Y/N was asked if she had fun at the ESPYs. She smiled knowingly. “I did. I met someone who made the night memorable.”

Joe, back at the practice facility, saw the clip during a break and couldn’t help but grin. “Made her night memorable, huh?” his teammate teased.

Joe didn’t answer, but the glint in his eyes said it all. It was the beginning of something new, though neither of them fully realized it yet.

@y//nofficial: I had no business being at the ESPYs but I’m SO HAPPY I was! It was a very memorable evening! 😏

Three.

The photo that broke the internet wasn’t planned. Joe and Y/N had been dating quietly for a couple of months, their blossoming relationship tucked away from the public eye. They liked it that way.

Joe could focus on football without fielding endless questions about his personal life, and Y/N could work on her projects without worrying about being cast as “so-and-so’s girlfriend.”

That morning, they had decided to grab coffee at a small café in Cincinnati. It wasn’t one of those flashy celebrity spots—just a cozy, tucked-away place where they could sit and talk without interruption.

Y/N was in between filming seasons of the show and had some time off, so she spent it in the Midwest.

She wore an oversized hoodie and leggings, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Joe had on a Bengals cap and a casual sweatshirt. To anyone passing by, they looked like any other young couple enjoying a quiet moment together.

But someone did notice.

A fan walking out of the café spotted them holding hands as they strolled back to Joe’s car. The fan discreetly snapped a photo—not to be invasive, but because Joe Burrow and Y/N together?! It was too good to keep to themselves.

By the afternoon, the photo was everywhere.

@fanaccountt: Joe Burrow spotted with Outer Banks actress Y/N Y/L/N all coupled up! Is this the beginning of a new power couple?

Joe was in the middle of reviewing game tape when his phone buzzed incessantly. He ignored it at first, but when his teammate Ja’Marr walked in grinning, he knew something was up.

“You’re trending,” Ja’Marr said, tossing his phone onto the desk.

Joe picked it up and immediately saw the photo. There he was, arms wrapped around Y/N, the internet going wild over their apparent relationship.

“Crap,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“What, you mad about it?” Ja’Marr teased. “Dude, people are shipping you two like crazy. You’re a power couple now.”

Joe sighed. “It’s not about being mad. I just… I wanted to keep it private for a little longer.”

“Well,” Ja’Marr said with a laugh, “welcome to dating a superstar.”

Y/N wasn’t faring much better. Her phone had been blowing up all day, her group chats full of messages from co-stars and friends.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Joe freaking Burrow?!”

“Is this why you’ve been smiling so much lately???”

Her manager even called. “So… about that photo…”

Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. “I didn’t think anyone would notice us! We weren’t even in L.A.!”

“Well, they noticed. So now the question is, do we address it, or let it fizzle out?”

Y/N bit her lip. She and Joe had talked about how they’d handle going public, but they hadn’t expected it to happen like this. After a quick call to Joe, they decided to keep it simple—acknowledge it without making a spectacle.

A few days later, Joe had a press conference. The media had been chomping at the bit to ask him about the photo, and as soon as the football questions wrapped up, one brave reporter dove in.

“Joe, there’s been a lot of buzz about your personal life lately. Care to comment on the photo of you and Y/N that’s been circulating?”

Joe’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah, I’ve seen the photo,” he said, his tone light but measured. “Look, I get it—it’s part of the job. But, yeah, Y/N and I are dating. She’s incredible. I’m lucky to have her in my corner.”

The room buzzed with excitement, but Joe didn’t elaborate. He kept it short and sweet, knowing anything more would only add fuel to the fire.

Meanwhile, Y/N was promoting the upcoming season of Outer Banks on a popular morning talk show. Inevitably, the host brought up the photo.

“So, Y/N, the internet is losing it over this photo of you and Joe Burrow. Can you confirm—are you guys officially a thing?”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I guess the photo kind of confirmed it for us, didn’t it?” she said, her voice warm and genuine. “Joe’s great. He’s funny, grounded, and so supportive. I’m really lucky.”

Fans swooned. The internet exploded again, dubbing them the It Couple of the year.

That night, Joe and Y/N sat on the couch in his living room, scrolling through the headlines together.

“‘NFL’s Golden Boy and Hollywood’s Sweetheart,’” Joe read aloud, smirking. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, laughing. “Get used to it, superstar. This is our life now.”

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “As long as I’ve got you, I think I can handle it.”

@y//nofficial: well…I guess it’s out there now 🧡 @joeyb_9

Four.

It was a moment that underscored just how much Joe and Y/N had come to mean to each other—not just as a couple but as a team. Their worlds were so different, but they’d found ways to support each other, even when the demands of their careers kept them apart.

The moment happened on one of the NFL’s biggest stages: the AFC Championship Game. Joe had led the Bengals to the brink of a Super Bowl appearance, and the eyes of the world were on him.

It was a freezing January evening, the kind where the air burned your lungs and every hit on the field felt twice as hard. But Joe didn’t seem fazed; he thrived in the cold.

Y/N had cleared her schedule weeks ago to make sure she could be there. She was bundled up in a Bengals hoodie and beanie, sitting in a private box with Joe’s family, but she might as well have been on the field with him.

Every play made her heart race, and she cheered as loudly as anyone when Joe threw a perfect touchdown pass or scrambled for a first down.

When the Bengals sealed the victory in the final minutes, the stadium erupted. Y/N stood and clapped, her face lighting up with pride. Cameras panned across the crowd, catching her celebration, and the broadcasters couldn’t resist a mention.

“And there’s Joe Burrow’s girlfriend, Y/N,” one of them said. “She’s been a fixture at games this season, always showing her support.”

Joe’s post-game press conference was filled with the usual football questions, but one reporter couldn’t resist asking about the glimpse of Y/N on the broadcast.

“You’ve talked a lot about your teammates being in your corner,” the reporter began, “but it seems like you’ve got a pretty special fan in your corner too. How important has Y/N’s support been during this season?”

Joe’s face softened, a rare moment of vulnerability on full display. “She’s been incredible,” he said. “We both have demanding schedules, but she always finds a way to be there when it matters. Having her support—it means everything.”

@y//nofficial: in my WAG era @joeyb_9

Later in the week, Y/N was gearing up for the premiere of her latest film, a romantic drama that was already generating Oscar buzz.

The red carpet was a dazzling frenzy of flashing cameras and shouting photographers, but Y/N glided through it with ease. Dressed in a custom gown that seemed to shimmer under the lights, she was the picture of Hollywood elegance.

When asked about her role and the film, she was all business, talking passionately about the story and her character. But, inevitably, a question about Joe came up.

“Your boyfriend, Joe Burrow, just led his team to another Super Bowl appearance,” the interviewer said. “How does it feel to be dating someone who’s at the top of his game, just like you?”

Y/N smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Joe works harder than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s so focused and driven, but he’s also incredibly humble about everything he’s accomplished. Watching him do what he loves at such a high level—it’s inspiring. I couldn’t be prouder of him.”

The clip of her response went viral almost immediately, fans swooning over her heartfelt words.

Joe couldn’t attend the film premiere because he was deep in Super Bowl preparations, but that didn’t stop him from supporting her in his own way.

On the day of the premiere, Y/N woke up to a surprise delivery at her hotel: a massive bouquet of her favorite flowers with a handwritten note.

“To my superstar,

Wish I could be there to cheer you on tonight. You’re going to be amazing—just like always.

Love, Joe.”

Y/N smiled as she read it, her heart swelling. Later that night, after walking the red carpet and enduring endless interviews, she called Joe.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice warm with affection.

“Of course I did,” he replied. “I hate that I couldn’t be there, but I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you.”

“Well,” she said, “you’re officially the sweetest boyfriend ever.”

Their mutual support didn’t go unnoticed by fans or the media. People loved how they celebrated each other’s successes, even from a distance. Someone tweeted:

Joe Burrow sending flowers to Y/N before her premiere? That’s the kind of MVP energy we all need.

Another wrote: Y/N calling Joe’s season ‘inspiring’ is proof they’re the real deal. Power couple status confirmed.

@y//nofficial: 🤍❤️

Five.

By the time the Super Bowl rolled around, Joe and Y/N’s relationship had become a fixture in both sports and entertainment media.

They were admired not just for their individual accomplishments but for the way they seemed to amplify each other’s strengths. Fans loved their humility, their chemistry, and the quiet way they handled their fame.

But this was Joe’s moment—a chance to bring a Lombardi Trophy home to Cincinnati, something that had eluded the franchise for decades.

As game day approached, the buzz was electric. The pressure was immense, and the stakes couldn’t have been higher.

Y/N had spent the week leading up to the game in New York, doing press for the new season of Outer Banks. She wanted to fly to LA early to be with Joe, but he insisted she focus on her commitments.

“I know how much this season means to you,” he told her over the phone. “I’ll be fine. Just promise me you’ll be there on Sunday.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said.

On the morning of the game, Y/N arrived in LA, joining Joe’s family in their private suite at the stadium. Dressed in a Bengals jersey with “Burrow” embroidered on the back, she was a bundle of nerves. Watching Joe on the field was always intense, but this was different. This was the Super Bowl.

The game was a nail-biter. Joe played brilliantly, showcasing his trademark composure under pressure. Every throw, every scramble, every audible sent the crowd into a frenzy.

Y/N found herself clapping, cheering, and even pacing the suite at times, her heart pounding with every play.

The Super Bowl had been everything Joe and the Bengals dreamed of—except for the ending. They fought hard, battled down to the wire, but ultimately, they fell short.

The scoreboard didn’t reflect the effort, the heart, or the grit Joe and his team had shown on the field.

As the confetti fell in the Ram’s colors, Joe stood on the field, his helmet dangling from his hand. He was stoic, as always, but those closest to him could see the weight of the moment settling on his shoulders.

In the stands, Y/N felt a pang of sadness for Joe. She had been there for his triumphs and his setbacks, but she knew how much this one hurt.

As the Ram’s celebrated, Y/N stayed rooted in her seat, watching Joe as he lingered on the field, congratulating the victors with quiet grace.

When he finally made his way toward the tunnel, she slipped past security and met him in the hallway.

Joe looked up and saw her standing there, wearing his jersey with a pair of leather pants, her eyes filled with nothing but love.

“Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Hey,” she replied softly.

Without another word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He let out a deep sigh as he held her, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

Joe pulled back slightly to look at her. “For losing?” he asked, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

“For leading,” she corrected. “For playing your heart out. For being the guy everyone looks up to—on and off the field.”

Her words seemed to ease some of the tension in his jaw, and he managed a small smile. “Thanks for being here,” he said.

“Always,” she promised.

Joe faced the press soon after, answering questions with his usual composure. When asked about the loss, he acknowledged the disappointment but praised his teammates for their effort and determination. Then, one reporter asked a more personal question.

“Joe, we saw Y/N in the tunnel with you after the game. How much does her support mean to you on a night like this?”

Joe’s expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed to forget the cameras and the crowd.

“It means everything,” he said simply. “Win or lose, she’s always there for me. Having someone like that in your corner—it’s more than I could ever ask for.”

Days later, Y/N was asked about the game during a podcast appearance.

“Your boyfriend played an incredible game, even though the team didn’t get the win. What did you say to him after?” the host asked.

Y/N smiled. “I told him I was proud of him. Because I was. He gave it everything he had, and that’s all anyone can ask for. Joe doesn’t measure his worth by wins and losses, and neither do I.”

Her response resonated with fans, many of whom took to social media to praise her unwavering support.

For Joe and Y/N, the Super Bowl wasn’t the ending they had hoped for, but it became a defining moment in their relationship. It reminded them that true partnership wasn’t about sharing only the victories—it was about standing together through the defeats, too.

As Joe said to Y/N that night, as they sat side by side on the couch in their hotel room, “I might not have won the trophy, but I’ve already won the most important thing in my life.”

Y/N looked at him with a soft smile. “And what’s that?”

“You,” he said, pulling her close.

And in that moment, the loss didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

@y//nofficial: so unbelievably proud of @joeyb_9 you played your heart out and left it all on the field. You never cease to amaze me. I love you always and forever 🧡🖤

Six.

The offseason after the Super Bowl had been a whirlwind for both Joe and Y/N. Between his post-season press appearances and her press tours for Outer Banks and her latest film, finding time for each other wasn’t easy. But they made it work, prioritizing quiet moments away from the spotlight.

It was during one of those moments—a secluded weekend at a lake house in Ohio—that Joe decided it was time.

Y/N had always loved the simplicity of the lake house. It was peaceful, tucked away from the chaos of their public lives.

On their second evening there, Joe suggested a sunset boat ride, something they’d done countless times before.

Y/N didn’t think anything of it, even as Joe packed a small picnic basket with her favorite snacks and a bottle of wine.

As they floated on the calm waters, the sky painted in shades of orange and pink, Joe grew quieter than usual.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to study him.

He smiled, but there was a hint of nervousness in his expression. “Yeah,” he said. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

“Lucky?” she teased. “You’re Joe Burrow. I’d say you’ve got some skill in there too.”

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean lucky to have you.”

Before Y/N could respond, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

Her breath caught as he opened it, revealing a stunning, timeless diamond ring.

“Y/N,” Joe said, his voice steady but full of emotion, “you’ve been my partner through everything—the highs, the lows, the crazy schedules. I can’t imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled her eyes as she nodded, a bright smile spreading across her face. “Yes, of course I will,” she said, throwing her arms around him.

The ring sparkled in the fading sunlight as he slid it onto her finger.

They decided to wait a few weeks before announcing the engagement, savoring the joy privately with close family and friends. But the news broke one sunny Monday morning when Y/N posted a picture on Instagram.

@y//nofficial: Forever ❤️💍 @joeyb_9

Within minutes, the post exploded with likes, comments, and reposts.

Joe shared his own announcement on Instagram.

@joeyb_9: She said yes and now she’s stuck with me. @y/noffical

Fans were ecstatic. Social media buzzed with excitement, and hashtags like #JoeAndYNGoals and #PowerCouple flooded timelines.

One fan tweeted: “Our QB1 is officially off the market, and honestly, we love to see it. Congrats, Joe and Y/N!”

Another wrote: “Joe Burrow just won the Super Bowl of life. Y/N, you’ve got the real MVP!”

During a press conference later that week, Joe was inevitably asked about the engagement.

“Joe, congratulations on your engagement,” a reporter said. “Can you share how you proposed?”

Joe smiled, his signature calm demeanor softening. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” He started. “But I don’t think I’m going to talk about that just yet. Let’s just stick to football.” He finished, a smirk on his face.

He wanted to keep some part of their engagement special. Keep the details and the moment just between them, something that the prying eyes can’t touch.

Y/N, appearing on a late-night talk show around the same time, was asked the same question.

“It was so Joe,” she said with a laugh. “Thoughtful, intimate, and a little bit unexpected. I couldn’t have dreamed up a better moment. That’s about all the details I’m going to give!”

As the engagement news continued to dominate headlines, one thing became clear: Joe and Y/N weren’t just admired for their individual accomplishments—they were celebrated for the love and respect they showed each other.

For their fans, the proposal announcement was a fairytale come to life. But for Joe and Y/N, it was just the beginning of a lifetime of chapters yet to be written—together.

[mortalityplays]

Forgive me if I'm mistaking you for another person, but I remember you speaking at multiple points on the unsustainability of free social media services (I think especially in response to the cohost collapse?), and I'm curious on what your thoughts on bluesky are so far. I'm not an expert on the subject, but from what I've read previously it seemed like they were on track to be financially sustainable, but I don't know if the recent floods of users has thrown those projections off. Sorry if I'm mixing you up with someone else on my timeline, in that case just ignore me.

bluesky will almost certainly follow the same trajectory of monetisation => bloat => enshittification => decline as every other major platform built on venture capital and user hoarding. it's a terrible model that only works in the short term as a mirage for attracting funding and making founders look good for a year or two before they sell.

you can see the same effect in the decline of all the subscription box services that came into vogue just before covid: they feel great to use for as long as the initial injection of venture funding lasts, because the purpose of that funding at that stage is to attract users and impress the next round of funders with how pleasant/intuitive/efficient/ethical/good value the service is. that's the stage where they're handing out freebies and bowling over influencers, and every ingredient in the box is fresh and high quality and locally sourced. wow what a good deal, what a great system!!! why hasn't anyone done this before? the answer is because it's unsustainable by design. they rack up good reviews, sign on a billion new users, attract new funding from a bunch of much more credulous investors, and then gut all of the expensive parts. portions get smaller, ingredients get worse, packaging gets flimsier, prices go up, freebies turn into "5% off your first 9 boxes when you invite 3 friends", and customer service vanishes.

with social media (and platforms like discord) the logic is the same, it's just a little less glaringly obvious to the end user because they're not coming home to leaking packages of rancid chicken on the doorstep. bluesky has an advantage over tiny operations like cohost because it was founded by a billionaire making a point for the sake of his own image. it got a really significant chunk of startup funding, and the owner had existing connections and rep in the space to attract more. That's why it has survived the goldrush period, why it still feels good to use, and why users who have been burned so many times before are finally accepting it as a stable, reliable option. It's still in its venture capital honeymoon phase where the only thing worth spending money on is making the service attractive to users.

What I expect we will see next, with another mass influx of users from twitter and new funding from a rogue's gallery of tech venture sickos led by Blockchain Capital is a strong ramp up into monetising that userbase. They've already been pretty forthright about how they plan to do this, and I think it's a solid roadmap of how Bluesky will bloat and decay over the next few years:

this is a huge lol. don't worry, we're not going to hyperfinancialize the social experience through NFTs. the thing even crypto freaks started feigning amnesia about a year ago. real "our health conscious sodas are 100% arsenic free" messaging here. They know perfectly well that rubes users are suspicious of their typical 5 dimensional tech finance chess games and are patting our hands about last week's bogeymen so nobody worries too hard about whatever 'decentralised developer ecosystem' just happens to be helmed by a bunch of crypto guys. this definitely means something good and based and not a google-like single sign on user data harvesting operation.

This is the same shit that's currently rotting the floorboards of discord. Bluntly, there is no way to run a platform on this scale without gating functionality behind paid services. Discord has been squeezing free-tier file uploads and call quality etc. down steadily and cranking up subscription costs over the last year or two, throwing in chaff like animated avatar frames to try and justify the user cost. They're also doing the same misdirection thing again here, pointing to Thing We All Hate to deflect from thing we might not like very much when they do it. Booo elon booo we all hate elon!!! wait how do we feel about subscription models again,

watch out for this to kill porn on bsky like it has killed porn on every other social platform 👍 boooo we hate elon boooo stupid idiot and his 'everything app' booooo wait why do you need my tax information, what's that about mastercard,

Look, we are all aware social media is a money pit. Let's not forget dorsey was looking to sell twitter in the first place, long before elon's very public plunge into total online derangement. Subscription services are not going to plug the hole, so we are gradually going to see more and more spaghetti thrown at the wall while early funders shuffle cards and do their pyramid scheme bit bringing in stupider and stupider investments. this is the window in which bluesky will be temporarily worth using for us, for the idiot public, the poorly rendered crowd jpegs in the background of their venture capital MOBA. it's in their interests to slow and pad the decline as much as possible, because that is how they get maximally paid.

Given the scale of the money involved, and dorsey's weird ego investment, I think bluesky will probably manage a controlled drift for a good few years before it gets really bloated and painful. and by then we will all be so used to the *checks notes* decentralised developer ecosystem that we'll just be posting through it, watching another generation of columnists call another collapsing platform 'their beloved hellsite' and passing around that meme about not getting out of our chairs no sir until idk we all get on a fediverse neurolink alternative to stick it to the elongated muskrat and our brains pop peacefully in our sleep. which I guess is the closest thing to viability any social media platform can achieve.

anyway diogenes the cynic is also on bluesky

[littelovelunette]

age gap relationship reader x sevika, whereas reader is at her parents and they would never approve her relationship so they sneak off to each others houses and just fuck. it’s more sexy when sevika goes to readers house secretly and even tho reader doesn’t wanna admit it and she’s scared they might get caught by her parents lol

Only If They Knew

Contains smut, mentions of parental abuse, gambling, nipple play, fingering, gagging, implications of getting caught

As you walk into your room, you call Sevika. You had just finished your class and you were exhausted but wanted to check up on your girlfriend.

When she picked up, due to the dimmed lights around her, you could tell she was probably at a bar, gambling and effortlessly winning.

"Hey, babydoll, how was class?" Sevika asked, propping her phone so she could continue playing her game, she didn't mind talking to you over the phone while she was doing anything really.

Even if her social image was super important to her and always had been, she could never deny the thought of spending time with you even if it was through a measly screen and WiFi.

"Not too well, my mocks are coming up and I'm barely done with the whole syllabus," you said, letting your hair down from your claw clip ponytail, the silky locks cascading down your face, framing it and giving you a much softer look now.

"Mhm? Is that so?" Sevika hummed as she used her hand to pull the chips towards her already stacking pile of chips, "Hmmm, well, maybe you should study now then."

You sighed and shook your head, "Not so easy, Sev," You propped your head up using one hand and sighed, "It's almost impossible with all the sexual frustration pent up in my body."

"Is it now?" Sevika asked, her voice now an octave lower, she didn't care if the men playing Poker with her heard. She took a sip of her drink and glanced at the phone screen.

"Mhm, last time I touched myself was like... Weeks ago and you punished me for it at your place so I won't really, y'know, repeat," you said, sighing and tilting your head a little.

You watched her play in comfortable silence before reaching out and turning the switch off so the only light illuminating your face was the table lamp and your phone's screen brightness.

"You should sleep, love. Have you eaten?" Sevika asked.

"Yeah, I ate out with a few friends," you answered before questioning back, "Have you eaten?"

"Nah, how can I? You're all the way there at your parents'," she let that sink in for a while before chuckling and shaking her head, "I did, don't worry, bunny, go sleep now."

"I wish you were here so we could spoon and all," you sighed a little, pouting your bottom lip out like an offended child.

Sevika found you absolutely adorable and a little annoying but not in a negative way. You were 21 and she was 41, not the most ideal age gap, but it was definitely something your parents would slap you silly for.

But oh would it be so cozy being curled up in those juicy biceps of Sevika's and being awoken with kisses to the forehead, tender and loving as ever. Someone as experienced as Sevika would do anything to please you. Just thinking of it made you all giddy.

"I wish that too, doll," she exhaled the smoke from her nostrils, "Wanna come to mine tomorrow after your class ends?"

"I wish, I can't, I need to use the break to get some revision in," you said with a shake of your head in pure disappointment, pulling your fuzzy blankets over your head, "I'll just sleep now then, I guess."

You seemed sad and Sevika didn't let that just slide past her.

She noticed.

With the amount of women she'd dated before she knew how to understand when women masked their true feelings and knew better than to blatantly ask "What's wrong? You seem upset." When she was clearly aware of what made you upset.

"Goodnight, love," Sevika said letting you hang up first after you both exchanged I love you's and she finished her game.

By the time she finished it was 1 AM, she started walking towards your house, nothing really going through her mind.

Despite the more rational part of hers telling her to turn and walk back to her own house, she didn't let herself act on logic, only instinct.

Climbing the wall with ease, she reached your window, which was a bit open already for ventilation. Sevika climbed in, her feet landing on the floor with a soft thud.

Sevika inched closer to your floral duvet, grabbing the edge slowly and lifting it to see your sleeping figure. "My princess," she whispered under her breath and slowly clicked the lock of your room so your parents couldn't barge inside.

Sevika pulled the duvet down so she could see your figure properly, feeling the wetness dripping and soaking her shorts.

She leaned in, lips slowly grazing yours as her hands held your boobs in her big palms, squeezing them and rolling your nipples over your thin nightdress.

"M-mmmph..." As you stirred and slowly woke up, Sevika let out a little grin followed by a soft chuckle.

"Stay quiet, yeah?" Sevika whispered and you nodded before letting out a shuddering breath.

"Oh, Sevika, I can't, it feels too good," you whimpered and she sighed, letting your panties slip down your legs slowly, she clumped it in a ball and stuffed it in your mouth.

"Mm.." you whimpered lowly, trembling as her expert hands trailed down your body, stopping you squeeze at your curves.

Her hands trailed back up so she could pinch and pull at your nipples, rolling them, your nipples felt swollen after being pinched so hard. Your hips thrusted up in a gesture of getting more friction down there, too but Sevika dismissed it.

The need for having something lodged deep in your hole grew with passing time, much to Sevika's dismay anyway, she liked playing with you and pushing you to the edge before she absolutely destroyed your body.

However, today she was being surprisingly gentle, maybe simply because she didn't want you letting out filthy pornographical screams and moans for your parents to hear.

Sevika lined two thick fingers over your slit, arousal dropping out from anticipation, "You ready for the fun, bunny?"

You could only nod as you moaned loudly into the makeshift gag, digits sinking deep into your cunt as wetness gushed out coating them.

Her fingers felt so thick, stretching your hole out after weeks of punishment for touching yourself without her punishment.

You loved this woman unconditionally and endlessly, she was good at whatever she did. Especially good at sex from her history of daily brothel visits.

Your hole clenched almost desperately at the feel of her thick fingers so deep in you, it felt like reality and pleasure blurred into a thin line but you had to ground yourself or your parents would hear the sounds.

If only they knew their good, obedient daughter who they wished would become either a doctor or a lawyer some day was here, in their house, under their roof, getting roughed up and fucked up by a woman just about twice her age.

You lolled your head to the side, drooling all over the fabric in your mouth, almost tasting yourself faintly due to your vaginal discharge still sticking onto the cotton, as Sevika rubbed tight circles around your clit, making you see stars.

Eyes rolled back into your head as she gave one final thrust, twisting her fingers at a blissful angle and you squirted all over the sheets, blankets and her hand.

"Oopsie daisy," Sevika raised a brow, rubbing your pussy up and down slowly, "You wet the bed, love," her soft voice made you flush in shame and you let out a muffled whine.

Sevika took your soiled panties out of your mouth tutting a little at how jelly-like your legs had gotten from one measly orgasm.

Despite all that and her mocking, she helped you get changed into fresh clothes after washing your body tenderly.

While you were in the bathroom peeing, Sevika had taken it upon herself to change the sheets of her bed and replace the duvet. You loved this woman to all your heart's content and beyond.

[just1cefor4ll]

Can I request a Tyler ( or Aiden but please Tyler) x reader fic? Reader has lived in the phantom realm for almost her entire life and because of that she is always sleepy and hungry since she doesn't get transported back like the others. But she is a great fighter. Fem or gn reader please and could you please write a scenario too? Thanks you and a you can ignore this if you like ❤

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, mentions of reader not eating, reader has some form of insomnia(??) gender neutral reader

A/N: I tried to make sure that this is gender neutral but if I made any mistakes then please correct me! Also I’m new to the fandom so if I got anything incorrect then again, don’t be afraid to correct me.

I hope I wrote everything the way you wanted and that you will request again some time<3

Tyler & Aiden (seperate) x gn!reader

——————————————

You’ve been stuck in this place for a while, ever since you were about 13. One day you were playing outisde in the yard, when you saw this strange creature. You being a naive child went towards it and tried talking to it. You weren’t really the type of child to be scared of everything and you thought it was just your imagination. When you when to confront it, you collapsed. After that you woke up in this strange place, an exact copy of the real world yet the sky was red and strange creatures started to appear everywhere. Your big brother would get into fights often, so he taught you some self defense so you managed to survive, quickly seeking shelter. At your age many kids would panic and probably wouldn’t survive, but you pulled through. Ever since then you kinda were afraid to sleep, scared that the creatures would somehow manage to get to you and hurt you. Same with food, you rarely went out to get food, only living off what people left in their houses, well at least the houses that weren’t infested with phantoms.

You and your parents would go out into the wilderness often, so you had necessary survival skills and had enough supplies for the first few weeks of being there. You learned to survive the phantom attacks and you have a pretty well built shelter. In the present time you met a group of people your age. You almost collapsed from how happy you were to finally have human interaction after so many dreadful years of being in this horrific place. They accepted you into the group, some being a bit skeptical at first but changed their mind once you told them your story.

You were a more skilled person in the group, taking the role as leader with a girl named Ashlyn. You moved your things from your shelter that wasn’t that far from the “graveyard” as they liked to call it. After a few hours you were done taking your things there and saw they weren’t there anymore. Your eyes widen and you start to panic; “Did they leave me?” “Was I just imagining it?” “Did they get hurt by the phantoms?” You run into one of the buses and see a note on one of the seats. It explained that they have a different experience in this realm. They go to this realm at midnight for 7 hours, then wake up in the human realm. You couldn’t help but envy them but you were glad nothing happened to them and that you weren’t imagining it.

——————————————

Tyler Hernández

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

To say that Tyler would literally turn into your second mother that would be an understatement.

He would constantly bring you food when he could and when he was in the living world he would make you some food before he went to school so you don’t starve while they are away. (things that are moved to a certian place in the living world appear in the “phantom realm”

You two would definitely start dating after some time but you would be the one making the first move lol

He would have some trust issues but once he warms up to you he’s cool

Taylor would definitely be happy that her twin brother is finally happy with someone (even if he can’t see them whenever he wants)

He would cuddle you in the bus and protect you with his life fr

He would be super caring and would scold you if you wouldn’t eat for a long period of time, the same with sleeping.

When you eat and get a normal amount of sleep you have a LOT of energy. Like it’s as if you drank 10 cups of coffee in on go!

definitely praises you!!

He would be jealous if you taught anyone other than him so give him some love right after!!

Admires you for sure like he’s looking at you with heart eyes and is the most love sick guy you will ever meet lmao even if he doesn’t look like it

Overall I believe he isn’t the MOST caring in the group but definitely one of the most caring :3

Everyone quickly started noticing your sluggish movements and the constant rumbling of your stomach. You always had dark eye bags under your eyes and you were exhausted all of the time. Tyler was the first one to notice and comment on it. You tried saying you were fine but he just didn’t buy it. “Come on I can tell you’re exhausted and clearly hungry, come we should have at least an apple for you to eat.” He says and drags you to the bus where they would keep these types of necessities. He mumbled some swears you couldn’t quite understand since it was in Spanish. He handed you the apple and rolled his eyes, acting like he doesn’t care. “After you eat that go and rest, I don’t want you to collapse tomorrow..” He says, looking away from you and sits down on one of the seats in the bus.

You nod and raise a brow at his strange behavior. He never really acted kind or caring towards anyone except his sister, but you didn’t mind the special treatment. You lay down on the seat, curling into a ball and close your eyes, falling asleep in almost an instant. It was a while since you’ve slept for a healthy amount of time. You usually wouldn’t sleep or only had a few minutes of sleep since the phantom noises kept you awake constantly.

You slept for quite a long time, even past the time the group would appear and wake up in the real world. The moment it hit midnight Tyler quickly checked up on you, hoping you wouldn’t be mad that he wasn’t there when you woke up, but when he went to look towards the seat you slept on you were still there, asleep. He was taken aback by this since you slept for literally the whole day! He shook you awake, wanting to make sure you didn’t die or something in your sleep. You woke up, grumbling as you glared at the person who woke you only to see Tyler with a concerned expression. “What?” “What do you mean what!? You slept for like 30 hours!” He says and looks at you as if you were some kind of psycho. “Oh I did?” You ask, stretching your aching body and sit up. “Jeez Y/N when was the last time you’ve slept? And I mean properly.” You chuckle at his reaction and explain how you’ve had trouble sleeping, since you heard the phantoms like Ashlyn, just not so intensely. You explain your situation a bit more to him, not wanting to just leave him without an explanation on why you were the way you were.

You explain and Tyler looks at you with a sympathetic but quickly rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead; “Whatever nerd, come it’s time for you to teach us fighting or whatever..” He rolls his eyes and exits the bus. You usually teach the group how to fight when they can’t practice with Ashlyns parents since.. her parents can’t go into the realm with them. Tyler was sitting on the side while you were teaching Aiden and he yelled “Yea babe beat his ass!” He whistles and claps, having a proud look on his face. He definitely admires your skill but is like “pfft of course she’s strong she’s MY girlfriend” but in private he praises the living hell put of you. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you away from the group who is now resting and catching their breath. He pulls you closer to him and cups your cheek; “You did great princesa I’m so proud of you.” He says and kisses you on the forehead. “Oh well what kind of teacher would I be if I wasn’t any good?” You tease and wrap your arms around his neck. “Stop flirting I can hear you both!” Ashly yells and you both pull away quickly and look at each other, bursting into fits of laughter.

Aiden Clark

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He is a TEASE but like tbh he oblivious asf like bro doesn’t even notice for a good few months even after you start dating

He is really concerned once he finds out tho but still he doesn’t take it THAT seriously but still cares!!

He fr is terrified of you when you have energy tho cuz likeee your really strong

Aiden had seen you fr collapse somewhere from exhaustion and get back up like a few seconds later, beating the phantoms like it was nothing

He is super sad that he can’t see you in the normal world and tries to spend as much time with you as possible

Teases you if your stomach grumbles lmfao he finds that shit hilarious (runs away 2 seconds after he teases you)

Definitely brings you food, even if it’s not the most healthy but if you have a particular food you like expect to get it like at least twice a week

Overall is pretty chill but still caring<3

Aiden didn’t really notice at first, his mind wandering else where like usual or would tease and flirt with you. He only started noticing when you started dozing off in the most inconvenient places like when you were on a mission with the group and they just found you collapsed on the floor, only waking when you heard a phantom and kicked its ass! He was amazed but a little bit concerned but didn’t really show it, teasing you without an end. Once you got back to the graveyard he pulled you away from the rest of the group, finding Ashlyns rambling anout the next plan boring. He leads you to one of the buses and sits down, his back against the window and lays you down on top of him, your head resting on his chest. “What are you—” He silences you with a quick kiss on the lips and smiles, his usual manic like smile no where to be seen, only a genuine soft smile. “Rest, you need it. I can’t promise I will be here when you wake up but just rest, ‘kay? You’re safe.” He hugs you closer and your heart skips a beat. You smile and make yourself comfortable, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.

Aiden layed there with you, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. He grew bored after a while, typical Aiden but he let his mind wander, keeping himself occupied by thinking of random things and unconsciously braiding pieces of your hair. He only snapped out of it when he heard a quite loud rumbling. He lifted his arms off you and looked down at you with wide eyes, his manic like smile reappearing. He chuckled, he would definitely tease you about that later.

After a while he awoke in the real world, he texted the rest of the group in the group chat and smiled mischievously. Once midnight hit, you were awoken by noises coming from outside the bus. You quickly sat up, but calm down once you see a smiling Aiden looking down at you. You sigh, relieved it wasn’t phantoms when the door to the bus suddenly opened. You stood up and saw the group holding different kids of food you haven’t eaten in years! You look at the food like a kid seeing a toy they want and look at Aiden who smiled at you. “Surprise.” He says and the rest of the group places the food down on the floor, everyone sitting down and dig in. You sit down and eat a good amount of food yourself, eating to your hearts content. Everyone watches in awe at how much you ate but they were happy, especially Aiden that they could do this for you.

After everyone finished eating you helped cleaning up, Aiden approaching you and hugging you from behind; “Enjoyed the food, love?” He says and kisses your jaw, then cheek. “Yeah, a lot. How did you come up with this?” He smirks and rests his chin on your shouler; “Oh, I heard a little noise~” He puts one arm on your stomach and chuckles; “And I thought you would be thrilled with this surprise!” Your face turns red and you turn around and smack his head, grumbling and storming away.

[sethsclearwater]

Okay possible imagine/blurb idea: Paul gets into a fight and gets arrested (by chief swan maybe??) and calls reader to pick him up and she’s pissed that he got in the fight in the first place so she takes her sweet time going to get him, she gets her nails done with Emily, she does some shopping, she gets a coffee. She finally picks him up and he’s about to be pissed off about her taking so long but she’s like ‘do it again and I’ll leave you there’ and he’s like 😔sorry ma’am😔

i'm obsessed with this lol

...

"you what?" you repeated back into the phone despite the fact that you'd heard your imprinter loud and clear the first time he said it.

"princess," paul sighed through the line and you almost lost your composure but quickly pulled it back together.

"don't call me that. what the hell were you thinking getting in a fight?" you asked, already knowing it was going to be something dumb. although paul had definitely learned to manage his temper once you came into his life, he still had his moments - especially when someone as annoying as your ex was involved.

"30 seconds remaining," an automated voice cut both of you off before either of you could continue.

paul let out another heavy sigh before continuing, "can you just come pick me up? i don't think incriminating myself over the phone is the best idea," he grumbled and you rolled your eyes, also letting out a loud sigh.

"i'll be there in a little bit. don't do anything stupid," you spoke into the phone before you hung up and emily, who had just picked you up from your apartment, burst into laughter.

"he got arrested? at 9 in the morning?" she laughed and you rolled your eyes, also cracking a smile when you realized just how stupid it was that he managed to get arrested by none other than chief swan (who had taken a bit of a liking to him recently too which made it all the worse that paul was currently sitting in some cell with chief swan monitoring him).

"apparently," you sighed, letting out a breathy laugh, "we can still go to port angeles though, i have until 5 to come get him." you added and emily's smile somehow got even wider.

"let's do it," she laughed before putting the car into drive so the two of you could continue on your shopping day.

--

by the time you had gotten back to la push, grabbed your car, and gotten over to the forks police station, it was 4:45 and paul had been stuck in there for almost an entire work day.

you did feel a tad bit bad that you'd left him in there for so long but you also knew he'd most definitely learned his lesson and wouldn't be doing this again anytime soon.

so, when you walked inside and filled out all the paperwork, chief swan brought your imprinter out who looked quite bothered to say the least.

"is that all you needed me to fill out?" you asked charlie as he uncuffed paul.

chief swan nodded, "you're all good to take him home," he reassured, "i just got off the phone with the other party and it doesn't sound like they're going to be pressing charges so you two should be all good. i'll come by if there's anything that changes," he added and you let out a sigh of relief, happy to know paul wouldn't be stuck doing court ordered community service or anger management classes thanks to a dumb one-off event.

"thank you," you flashed charlie a smile before you were grabbing your purse and heading outside, already knowing paul would be following shortly behind you.

as soon as you got in the car and paul got in the passenger side, you both finally turned your attention to each other, "8 hours? you know if it was you i would've-" he started but you quickly cut him off as you turned the car on.

"i wouldn't have been dumb enough to get myself into that situation in the first place. you're lucky i even came and got you - next time you're staying there," you threatened, suddenly much more annoyed with the fact that he was annoyed with you.

paul seemed a bit caught off guard by your sudden burst of confidence, staying quiet for a moment while he considered the pros and cons of getting into a fight with you about this.

after a few moments, he let out a sigh, nodding, "yes ma'am," he mumbled, dramatically leaning away from you so he could rest his head against the window while you drove the two of you back to your apartment.

you cracked a smile at his choice of words, reaching your free hand over to give his hand a gentle squeeze which he seemed to appreciate, quickly interlacing your fingers together so he could hold your hand for the ride home.

[thebellearchives]

𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

~ inumaki toge // fushiguro megumi ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : at night, you and your sorcerer friend take shelter in an inn room to take care of each other’s wounds

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, making out, a bit suggestive maybe ?? (i’m still tagging it as fluff)

- gumi’s part: 'it’s complicated' friends to lovers, he tends to your wounds

- toge’s part : toge’s aware of your crush on him, you feel cursed energy through his kisses, onigiri ingredients in japanese, he uses harmless words at the very end, also uses cursed speech on you in the last sentence lol, you tend to his wounds

‧₊˚ a / n : wasn’t intending on posting this but anyways, this shots turned out kinda cute so, would’ve been sad to keep them to myself, also putting them together because both follow the same scenario and have many similarities

the reader feeling toge’s cursed speech was largely inspired by this 🫶🏻

also don’t question the fact that they’re in an inn room instead of the infirmary or smth okay just go with the flow bye 😭

• 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

You and Megumi somehow managed to check in the room without much questioning. Entering an inn late at night looking like you just got beat up was definitely something that would raise the front desk lady’s eyebrows, but you figured you had just gotten lucky.

You closed your eyes and sighed, Megumi’s footsteps came closer. You were sitting in the kitchen counter, knees apart from each other so Megumi could stand in between and attend to your wounds just like you had done before with his. His fingers lifted your chin up so he could see better under the room’s dim light. He pressed an alcohol drenched cotton ball lightly over your left eyebrow, making you jolt.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry” he mumbled “I’m almost done.”

Your eyelids opened slowly, finding him close to you, his dark eyes fixed on your wound. You studied his face in the meantime, long lashes contrasting with his pale clear skin, yet blending with his black irises.

“Can’t believe after all this time of being friends we just had our first mission together.”

“I’m guessing Gojo wasn’t sure of what would work well for us”

“That’s not what I mean, I mean we did great!”

He scoffed in slight amusement.

“Yeah, I knew we would”

“You mean you knew because I kicked your ass the last time we sparred?” a cheeky smile appeared on your face.

“As far as I remember, I was declared the winner” he raised an eyebrow

“Small details, truthfully it was a tie.”

“Right…” Megumi decided to cut the conversation, focusing more on wiping dry blood from your skin.

Finally he exhaled, his hand moved away, examining your face carefully. A soft frown appeared on his face as his eyes fell on your lips.

“Did you cut your lip?”

“Oh? Not that I’m aware of, it doesn’t hurt.”

“It’s bloody.”

Megumi’s fingers on your chin tensed up, sliding the cotton ball over your lip and then discarding it. He tilted your head to the right, blinking and squinting. With the same hand he was holding your jaw, he swiped his thumb over the lower lip.

With widened eyes you stared at him, alarm bells suddenly going off in your head and your irregular breathing hitting his skin, his gaze fixed on the way your soft lip molded under his fingertip. Tangled thoughts raced in your head, trying to figure out the sudden change in the atmosphere and the accelerating pace of your beating heart.

“It’s not wounded” Megumi’s voice was barely audible and you noticed the way his body had just gotten as stiff as yours, probably gaining awareness of the context you were both were surrounded by: him in between your thighs, under the cover of dim lightning and the silence of the night, being the closest to one another you had ever been.

Dark eyes wandered over your mouth, following his thumb as it now slid to the other side. Hesitantly, he moved even closer until his lips hovered over yours. The anticipation that filled the room made sure to cut off both your breathing and his. But then, Megumi closed the distance between your mouths, lashes lowering and hidden feelings bursting out into the open. Megumi’s kiss was soft, and you made sure to reciprocate slowly, easing into the unknown sensation of kissing him.

When the kiss stopped he remained still. Your shaky hands slid up his shirt, fingertips grasping the fabric to keep him in place for as long as the sweet burning sensation sat on your guts. You weren't sure of what came over yourself, maybe it was the curiosity of having him as more than a friend. Maybe it was the thoughts that had constantly whispered at the back of your head how attractive you thought he was, the thoughts you had made sure to ignore and so you never acted on them. Maybe it was the thrill of crumbling his aloof and distant demeanor in between your hands.

Maybe it had been all of those things together, but you slightly and eagerly nudged your nose against his. And so he kissed you again, with a deep sigh of surrender and his hands roaming up your thighs. The sounds of kissing filled the kitchen, your tongue sliding across his tongue, his hungry mouth now fighting against your, your fists pulling from his shirt. His fingers squeezed your skin, a breathy exhale left your throat almost becoming a soft whine.

Megumi’s hands then settled on your hips, until he suddenly stopped, freezing in place and then pulling away from you to search for your eyes. You stared back in a bit of a daze.

“What…” the black haired sorcerer tried to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed like his brain for once wasn’t cooperating.

“I…” you cleared your throat, blinking a couple of times “I don’t know.”

He swallowed, trying to find words once again.

“Listen, I…”

“It’s okay” nervously you tightened your grip on his shirt, now anxious of letting him go “we don’t have to talk about this today or tomorrow. We can just… forget it happened.”

Slowly, Megumi nodded.

“We can just let it be… for tonight.”

“Yeah” you pulled him close again, his body relaxed as he followed your movement and searched for your lips once more.

“Yeah, just for tonight…”

• 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄

Toge’s eyes followed you around as you picked and discarded objects from the first aid kit. At first he was annoyed at how much you had insisted on taking care of the wounds your last fight had inflicted, but at a certain point he had stopped complaining and just… stared. Now, you knew Toge wasn’t one to say much, because he couldn’t, but even when he didn’t say actual normal words he also wasn’t one to shut up. There was always some 'okaka's and 'tuna's and he would gesticulate here and there, he just had to let you know his opinion on absolutely everything. But now… he was absolutely silent.

You walked over to the kitchen counter, where he had sat down begrudgingly and now he was just lazily waiting.

“Bend over a little, will you?” you sighed, wet cotton in your hand.

His lavender eyes stared curiously, but he did as you asked and moved closer so you could reach for his face. There was a bloody scrape right next to his brow, product of a bad landing during the fight with the curse. You held your breath to gain courage and put aside your romantic feelings for the boy, then reached to cup his cheek with your left hand in order to keep him steady and started cleaning the almost dry blood.

He winced, a pitiful expression appeared on your face.

“Sorry” your voice softened “I’ll be finished soon, don’t worry, this is the last one.”

You expected him to say something, he would’ve usually just muttered a 'shake' or something, and yet he didn’t. When you were finally done you sighed once again, lowering your hands and grasping the edge of the counter.

“Alright, that’s it, why aren’t you speaking to me?” Toge raised a brow, as if your question was ridiculous to him “don’t look at me like that, you know what I mean.”

He pressed his lips against each other and then shrugged.

“Are you mad at me?” your brows almost touched, his eyes widened.

“Okaka” he immediately shook his head.

“Oh, so now you’re talking” he snorted, finally letting a small smile shine through “there’s something off, I can tell…”

He bit his lip and shrugged again, this time pointing to his head with his index.

“Thinking?”

“Shake”

“About what?”

His eyes seemed to shine in a peculiar way, trying to hold back a smirk. It was almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask that question for a while. Toge pointed at you, made a small heart with his index and thumb, and then pointed at himself. You blinked about twice, blankly.

“You’re thinking… about you and me?”

He squinted and motioned 'more less', then repeated the previous gesture: you, heart, him.

“You’re thinking…” you heart him. Suddenly your eyes widened, a blush rapidly crept up your face “you’re thinking i like you?”

Toge then grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

“Huh” you exhaled nervously, eyes shying away from him “right when i thought i was the best at understanding you seems like i still don’t get what is going on inside that head of yours.”

He chuckled, his right hand searched for his phone in his pocket and then quickly typed something up in the notes app. You just expectantly watched him as he conveyed his thoughts into written words.

“I’m not thinking you like me, i’m thinking i know you like me”

“Narcissistic much?” you quirked one of your eyebrows and he snorted “what makes you think that?”

“Just the way you look at me, and the way you act around me. Panda had pointed it out before but i’m just now thinking maybe he was right”

“I treat you just like all of my other friends!” you looked up at his eyes again, this time in defiance, but he tilted his head, raising his brows in disbelief “alright then, what have i done with you that i wouldn’t have done with anyone else?”

With a smile, Toge rubbed his cheek and then placed his index right on top of yours.

“Blushing?”

“Shake”

“You’re insinuating that I have romantic feelings for you, of course i’m gonna be embarrassed!”

Rolling his eyes, he nodded. Then, he cupped your left cheek, raising your face towards his and supporting your chin with his ring finger and pinky. You frowned, quickly catching up with the fact that he was holding your face in the same way you had done just moments before.

“… I was just taking care of you…” your whisper worsened your blush.

“always”

He chuckled at your shocked expression, the sound waves of his harmless words making you shiver. It wasn’t everyday that he’d risk speaking normally.

“… well, yes, i care for you”

“a lot” you bit your lip, there was no denying that, so you swallowed your nerves and looked away, he snickered “you’re cute”

Once again the surprise froze you, the power in his voice making your body tremble, what he had said made a sweet nervous feeling flutter around your stomach. He leaned in, you held your breath. Toge placed a lovely kiss on your lips, and you delicately but firmly kissed him back, the sliding of his lips on yours enticing and elating. A soft wave of cursed energy flowed through your mouth, but the moment he slid his tongue on your lower lip and you opened your mouth it rose in intensity. You had to cling from his shirt to keep yourself steady, the moment his marked tongue brushed against yours a sharp wave of electricity ran down your throat, pulling a whimper out from your vocal chords.

He pulled back to look at you and you panicked, embarrassed.

“I’m- oh god i’m so sorry!” your face was burning red at that point “it’s just that- i can feel your cursed energy.”

His eyes widened with surprise and worry, hopping off the counter his hands grabbed your shoulders.

“Takana?!”

“I’m fine! I’m totally fine” cupping his face you tried to comfort him, and it worked, he relaxed, but you pulled him closer again, your noses brushing “it felt… really nice…”

You lips searched for his, Toge smirked in amusement to your reaction, but he complied. So slowly, he kissed you again. The feeling of his energy running trough you seemed to make the blood in your veins rush in bliss, pulling sounds from the depths of your chest. Suddenly his hand slithered to the back of your head and he deepened the kiss, the mark on his tongue making contact with yours and making you gasp and jolt against his body. Toge giggled, but caught you in his arms, resting his back on the counter.

“Come on Toge, won’t you have mercy on me?” you complained, Toge shook his head slowly, and by the way he smiled you knew he was about to pull one of his stunts.

“Be louder” his lips immediately crashed back onto yours.