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rafecameronssl4t · 1 month

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can u do dcc!reader x Rafe where they’re both at like an event, obvs reader w the other cheerleaders and Rafe with his other teammates and he sees when a man touches your waist even tho they aren’t allowed to bc of the no touching rule and the security guard doesn’t notice until you tell him to get his hands off of you. maybe the guy even goes up to Rafe to ask for a photo but he’s rude to him bc he was touching her girl

Hands off || nfl!Rafe Cameron x dcc!reader

A/n: so creative anon! thank you :)

Warnings: unwanted touching from stranger, lil bit of angst at end if you squint

Word count: 1,973

MASTERLIST (nfl!rafe x dcc!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The "no touch" policy was quite simple: fans were not allowed to touch the cheerleaders. Footballs were brought to every stand and pose event. This gave fans something to hold during photos, making the interaction less awkward and minimising any potential for psychical contact.

Not everyone knew the rule, though, and some would instinctively try to put their arms around the cheerleaders for a photo. Thankfully, security was always on hand, watching and ready to step in, instructing fans to keep their distance.

Over the three years you've been a dcc, you’ve never had a bad experience with this policy. It’s become second nature, and you trust the system. So when you and a few of the other girls arrive at the event, where fans will be meeting you and taking photos, you think little of it.

The familiar buzz of excitement fills the room, and as you scan the crowd, your eyes land on Rafe. He’s on the other side of the room, already engaged in conversation with a fan. A small smile tugs at your lips as you take in his casual outfit: a pair of well-worn jeans, a black shirt that fits him just right, and a green baseball hat.

Before you can admire him any longer, Kelcey pulls you along to start taking photos. The first few interactions go smoothly, with fans smiling as they pose beside you, football in hand. Of course, there are always a few who try to get a little too close, but security is quick to intervene, keeping everything under control.

As you smile for the camera, you’re completely unaware of Rafe’s gaze locked on you from across the room. His eyes trail over your figure, captivated by your appearance. Your radiant smile, the way you carry yourself—everything about you seems to draw him in. He watches intently, his attention fixed solely on you, as if nothing else in the room matters.

“Watcha lookin’ at?” Chris asks, nudging Rafe’s shoulder with a playful grin. He follows Rafe’s line of sight, his curiosity piqued. It doesn’t take long for Chris to figure out what—or rather, who—has captured Rafe’s attention. A knowing smirk spreads across his face as he spots you across the room. “Coach’s daughter, huh?” he chuckles, turning back to Rafe, who still hasn’t torn his eyes away from you.

Chris can’t resist teasing him a bit more. “Heard from a few fans ‘round here that she’s their favourite,” he comments, watching Rafe’s expression carefully. Rafe scoffs, but the amusement is clear in his eyes. “Too bad. It’s not like it’s my name she’s—” “Woah there, bud. Too much info. Jesus,” Chris interrupts with a laugh, shaking his head as he holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t need to hear all that.”

As Chris walks back to the others, still chuckling to himself, Rafe remains rooted to the spot, his gaze never straying from you. The smirk on his lips only deepens as he watches you, the teasing from Chris barely registering in his mind.

His thoughts are entirely occupied by you—your smile, the way you move, the effortless way you light up the room. Even from across the room, it’s clear that you have a magnetic pull on him, one that he has no desire to resist.

Rafe’s gaze narrows as he notices a man approach you and the other cheerleaders. Even from a distance, it’s clear that this guy’s attention is solely on you. The way he barely acknowledges the others, his focus only really locking on you when it’s his turn for a photo, makes it obvious to anyone paying attention—this man has a particular interest in you.

Rafe watches intently, a sense of unease creeping in as the man lingers around you. Something about him doesn’t sit right. The usual football, meant to occupy fans' hands and prevent unwanted contact, has somehow gone missing, and security is scrambling to find a replacement. In that brief moment of chaos, the man sees his opportunity.

Rafe’s muscles tense as he watches the man discreetly slide his hand around your back. His fingers hover just above your exposed skin, as if hesitating, before finally making contact with your waist and smoothly resting on your hip. It’s a subtle move, but to Rafe, it’s glaringly inappropriate.

His jaw clenches tightly, frustration bubbling up as he realises the sea of fans between you and him would make it impossible to reach you in time. He feels a surge of protectiveness and helplessness all at once.

But then, he notices your reaction. You don’t hesitate—your hand quickly grabs his, pulling it firmly away from your body. Your expression is unreadable from where Rafe stands, but he can see that you’re saying something to the man, your words lost in the noise of the crowd. Fortunately, before the situation escalates further, the security guard steps in. His large frame moves between you and the man, effectively blocking any further contact.

Rafe exhales, tension still coiled in his muscles, but relieved that you handled the situation with the confidence and poise he’s come to admire in you. Even from across the room, he can see that you’re okay, but that doesn’t stop the protective instinct from simmering just beneath the surface.

The moment you make eye contact with the fan, a strange vibe settles over you. There’s something off about the way he looks at you, his gaze intense and fixated. Still, you smile at him, greeting him politely even as he barely acknowledges the other girls.

His focus is entirely on you, and you can feel the discomfort creeping in. A quick glance at Kelcey and Reece confirms they feel it too, their eyes mirroring your unease. "Hi, how are you?" you ask, maintaining your practiced smile as the man approaches. You guide him to the center, between you and Kelcey, trying to keep things professional.

"I'm so great," he replies, grinning at you in a way that makes your skin crawl. You nod, forcing a smile, though the unease gnaws at you. "You're even more gorgeous up close," he comments, his voice laced with something that makes you nervously chuckle.

"Thank you..." you reply, your voice trailing off as you notice the security guards in conversation. Concern flickers in your eyes, and you glance at Kelcey for confirmation. "They lost the football," she whispers, and you nod in understanding, trying to keep your composure.

"Did the other guy maybe take it with him—" Before you can finish your sentence, you feel it—a hand sliding onto your waist, then resting on your hip bone. Your body tenses, and without hesitation, you step away, firmly pulling his hand off of you.

"Please do not touch me," you say, your voice steady and commanding. The firmness of your tone catches the attention of everyone around you. The man’s bravado crumbles in an instant, replaced by nervousness as all eyes turn on him. "I didn’t mean to—sorry," he stammers, but the lie is obvious, his excuse flimsy.

You narrow your eyes slightly, your patience wearing thin. "You didn’t mean to feel up my waist and hip?" you challenge, your voice tinged with defensiveness. Before the situation can escalate further, a security guard steps in, his imposing presence effectively cutting off the interaction.

"Okay, that’s enough," the guard says firmly, positioning himself between you and the man. "Sir, were you aware that there is a strictly no-touching rule when it comes to taking pictures with the cheerleaders?" The man gulps, his earlier confidence evaporating. "No—no, I had no idea—"

The guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You’re telling me you haven’t seen the signs that are everywhere informing you about this?" His tone leaves no room for argument. "Move along, please," the guard instructs, gesturing with a dismissive wave of his hand. As the man sheepishly slinks away, the guard turns to you, his voice softening. "Miss, are you okay?"

You nod, your pulse still racing but your composure intact. "I’m fine, thank you," you reply, your voice steady. Kelcey and Reece quickly move to your side, their concern evident as they guide you away from the scene.

"Let’s get to the changing rooms," Kelcey murmurs, her arm around your shoulder as the next group of cheerleaders takes over. You allow yourself to be led away, grateful for the support, but also determined not to let the incident shake you.

Rafe watches intently as you disappear from view with the other girls, a tightness in his chest gradually loosening as you’re led safely away. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, turning back to face the next round of fans lining up for pictures. His mind is still half on you, replaying the scene over in his head, but he forces himself to focus on the task at hand.

A few more fans pass by, offering handshakes and snapping photos, but then something catches Rafe’s eye—a familiar face in the crowd. It’s him. The same guy who had touched you earlier. Rafe’s entire body stiffens, his muscles tensing as a wave of anger surges through him.

His glare sharpens, eyes narrowing on the man who seems completely oblivious to the fury directed his way. The guy casually makes his way down the line of players, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, utterly unaware of the storm brewing in Rafe’s eyes.

When the man finally reaches Rafe, he extends his hand with the same nonchalant attitude, expecting another casual greeting. But Rafe has no intention of letting this slide. He grasps the man’s hand in a firm, vice-like grip, squeezing just hard enough to send a clear message.

The man’s expression shifts from easygoing to startled as he looks up at Rafe, his brows furrowing in confusion. Rafe meets his gaze head-on, his eyes cold and unyielding. There’s no need for words; the intensity of Rafe’s stare says it all. The man fidgets slightly, trying to mask his discomfort, but it’s clear he’s rattled by the unexpected show of strength and the silent warning in Rafe’s eyes.

The handshake lingers a beat too long, the tension thick in the air, before the man awkwardly pulls his hand back, mumbling something under his breath as he moves on to the next player. Rafe watches him go, his jaw still clenched. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, but the anger simmering beneath the surface remains.

When it came time for the group photo, Rafe made sure his smile was practiced, not genuine, his eyes cold as the man stood at the center of the group. The man's audacity to remain at the event after what he had done gnawed at Rafe, his mind replaying the earlier scene with a growing sense of disbelief and anger.

As soon as the photo was taken and the man left, Rafe rolled his eyes and shook his head, barely able to contain his frustration. "I need to take five. Gotta hit the bathroom," Rafe said to the event coordinator, his tone controlled but urgent. "Yeah, sure, go ahead," she replied, barely glancing up as she continued to redirect the flow of fans.

Without wasting another second, Rafe made his way to the girls' changing room, his heart pounding with concern. He knocked in a familiar rhythmic pattern, the signal you both had used before to let each other know it was safe to open up.

You opened the door, and before you could say a word, Rafe swept you off your feet, pulling you into a tight embrace. The door clicked shut behind him as he nudged it closed with his foot, his arms wrapping around you protectively. The tension you’d been holding onto melted away the moment you felt his warmth, your own arms sliding around his waist.

"I saw what happened," he murmured against your hair, his voice soft but filled with concern. "You okay?" You let out a shaky breath, your face buried in his chest as you absorbed the comfort he offered. "Not really," you admitted quietly, the vulnerability in your voice evident. "But I'll be fine."

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, his grip steady and reassuring. He didn’t say anything, just held you close, letting the silence speak for the care he felt. He knew you were strong, that you could handle yourself, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to shield you from every bad moment, every unsettling experience. He couldn’t change what had happened, but he could be there for you now, and that was enough.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, just holding onto each other as the world outside faded into the background. Rafe’s presence was a balm to your frayed nerves, grounding you in a way that made the fear and unease dissipate, if only for a little while.

Finally, Rafe leaned back just enough to look at you, his hand gently cupping your face. "If you need anything, you tell me, alright? You don’t have to go through this alone." You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you, Rafe. I’m glad you’re here."

His gaze softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. "Always," he whispered, the promise clear in his voice.

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 14 days

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⚔️ Task Force 141 - NFL AU 🏈

by me (sleepyconfusedpotato) and @alypink ! This AU will include some Original Characters made by us both!

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New Hampshire 141s, a new rising american football team whose players dominantly came from the United Kingdom, is ready to face the NFL season!

As the previous Head Coach, Herschel von Shepherd got fired by the General Manager MacMillan, John Price (who has roots in rugby) got chosen by MacMillan to bring the team to victory. Let us see which players caught Coach Price's eyes!

John Price (HC)

John Price was born in Liverpool, England, but moved to America when he was still very young due to his father being deployed from the military to an American base. Although his father retired a couple of years later, they decided to stay in America. He grew up loving sports as a child but American football always piqued his interest more than any other sports. He played safety in middle and high school, but in his junior year, he had Meniscal tears that prevented him from ever playing again. John was heavily depressed after his injury, one day one of his close friends, Nikolai, who was also one of his fellow teammates on his high school team, told him to cheer him up to go watch the team play or to attend the training camps, John agreed and started assisting to the games and eventually started to think about becoming a head coach. He was recommended by his former high school head coach to take the job as a defensive coordinator for the New Hampshire Wildcats, a college football team. His performance and playbook were impressive, leading the Wildcats to reach a bowl and winning it twice. He proved to be fit and ready for a professional football team in the NFL and was hired as a defensive coordinator by the New Hampshire 141’s, by the HC at that time, Herschel von Shepherd. His first two seasons were disastrous as there was friction between the players and their head coach, most of the players disagreed with Shepherd's decisions and playmaking. To add to that, he seemed to never care about the player's input or needs. Although in those seasons they held a record of 4 wins and 12 losses, the General Manager of the team noticed his defense was the best in the league for both points and yards, and also noticed that a good portion of his defense players were selected on the all-pro team of those two seasons. After the owner and GM fired Shepherd as a Head Coach, John took his place. In his first seasons with the 141s, he restructured the team and went to playoffs and one NFC championship. As he wanted to improve his team, he started attending college football games, he attended once a college game in which he met the offensive coordinator at the time, Aly, and after the game he met her to ask about some players he was interested in on her actual team, for QB and WR positions, they became acquaintance since that day and kept communication for some time, as she sent some prospects his way. She also requested his help every now and then, making him attend her games and inviting her over to watch the 141s too. After spending time together and sharing the same interests and love for football, they started to date but kept it low as two months later, John hired her as his new offensive coordinator.

#26 Kyle Garrick (WR)

the most responsible and reliable player of the team. Kyle’s dad was an ex-WR and a former head coach out of a college football team. His father is a very hardworking man and disciplines his son like a football player, and with that, comes a great expectation for Kyle since his high school years. Kyle is extremely reliable, responsible, and respected on and off the field. He is HC John Price's favorite due to his work ethic. Kyle believes in having discipline in everything he does to be one of the best. He keeps a picture of his girlfriend, Eleanor Graham (Ladybug) everywhere, especially in his locker room as he says she brings him good luck for catching the hail mary’s from Alex. Kyle and Alex met in Baylor University, where they played together and won many games, including several bowl games. They became best friends in and out of the football field, supporting each other infinitely. “You've got friends nearby.” On Alex’s quote, “I can throw the ball like ‘fuck it, he’s over there somewhere’ and Kyle would magically appear and catch the ball. He’s always at the right place.”

One day during practice Alex was throwing the ball too far to the left, which headed straight towards her head. On instinct and in an attempt to catch the ball, Kyle collided with Eleanor, which bruised her arms. Instead of being upset like how Kyle would expect her to react, she laughed loudly at him, saying that she chose to sit there. She knew the hazard of studying near a football field. Even though Eleanor said she can take care of her bruises, Kyle insisted on nursing her. (Alex SMILED ear to ear). They both met from time to time. Every practice, Kyle always looks for Eleanor on the side of the field. Eleanor’s laid-back personality often bothers Kyle as she's a damn med school student, but through her, Kyle learns how to slow down and live in the moment. Love bloomed between them and they became a couple midway through freshman year.

When Kyle was drafted to the NFL to be with Alex for New Hampshire 141s, Eleanor was there with him when he received the call from HC Price. Though Eleanor has to stay in Texas to continue her studies, Eleanor travels to New Hampshire often to visit Kyle.

#31 Alex Keller (QB)

Alex is the quarterback of the 141s, second draft pick and first QB of his university. He is very skilled and hard-working, he is in love with water girl Farah Karim and aspires to be like Tom Brady. He and Kyle Garrick (WR) met in their first year of freshman in University and they played since their first year as the duo of QB and WR (Burrow and Chase vibes) and were drafted together in the NFL draft by the same team. Young duo but very effective especially during the regular season. Alex Keller met Farah Karim in his rookie season during training camp in his first year and has been infatuated with her. Since then, he has tried to score ASAP or reach 4th down so he can sit on the bench and talk with her. Whenever he can, he visits and picks her up from University and helps her out whenever he can in anything she would need.

#70 Simon Riley (TE)

Simon Riley used to be a rugby player in England. He joined the rugby team during his college days and met Price as one of his coaches, who trained and guided him to become one of the most dominant flankers in college rugby. Unfortunately, though he’s always dependable whenever he’s on the field, Simon was often riddled with injuries. His quiet personality didn’t help his case either, bearing the pain in his left leg in silence, until one day, he tore his ACL during an important game which cost the team their winning chances. Simon rested for a whole year to heal his knee. Together with his familial struggle, he contemplated quitting being an athlete. That was until Coach Price offered him a fresh start in the USA. As a flanker is equivalent to the Tight End position in American football, Price told him that he would be perfect for the role. Simon was adamant at first as he was still injured and how he’d be able to completely heal from this devastating injury. But when he said that in America they could find him a good physiotherapist to help him heal his knee, he reluctantly accepted the offer. Simon got into the draft and was a first-round pick due to how much of a good player he was in rugby. On his first day on the team, he met the other players who got drafted, but the most important and the most fateful meeting was when he got introduced to Charlotte Le Jardin (nickname Jade to simplify her last name), a physiotherapist that Laswell had promised help him to heal his ACL and help him regain his top form. It was a rough road, but with every step he took, Jade was there to help him. Now, every injury he has he doesn’t stay on the sidelines but goes inside the tent or the stadium so he can be checked by her. Whenever Jade’s out watching the game, he scores more than usual or gets distracted. He often carries the team, especially during the conference championship games.

#71 Johnny MacTavish (RB)

Johnny MacTavish was born and raised in Scotland. After high school, he was offered an academic and sports scholarship to a prominent university in the USA. He began his football career when he was a freshman at University as a very talented runner, which elevated him as the starter RB on his fifth game. In his senior year he was awarded the Heisman Trophy winner at college, but due to a shoulder injury, he missed being the top pick at the draft. He was later selected by the New Hampshire 141s and got put in as a starter as soon as he got drafted. He has good chemistry with his team but gets injured by overdoing himself or trying to tackle defensive players on the other team. He is also constantly with Jade for treatment and often misses important playoff games. Johnny is a very talented running back and that is why HC Price can’t get rid of him no matter how he misses practices and meetings and how his personal life affects his performance on the field. He always tries to take his friend Simon Riley to social gatherings and social media, but he completely shuts him down every time. That's different on the field though, as whenever Johnny's going to play a run, Simon will always be there in front of him to push the tacklers away, making way for Johnny to score a first down or a touch down. They're an unstoppable duo together. Johnny is very popular among female fans, making his jersey the one with the most sales every year. His dating story is pretty large and his games are always attended by the women he dates (which constantly changes).

some memes I made 😭

Here's the Hereford 141S' Logo and jersey design! The logo is heavily inspired by the Task Force 141's logo, so it's pretty much just a sporty twist of the logo!

More characters underneath the cut!

#11 Alejandro Vargas (MLB) and #22 Rodolfo Parra (OLB)

(Drawing to be posted!)

Alejandro and Rudy both moved to El Paso, Texas when they started high school at the age of 14 years old. They were avid football (soccer) players during their time in Mexico, but when they started High School they began to play football. Both Alejandro and Rodolfo played as Linebackers, Ale being MLB and Rodolfo being OLB. They did amazing in High School then they both received a scholarship to attend the university in Dallas, Texas. Both of them were later selected to do the NFL Pathway program, for both of them. Being together since their childhood years, high school and university they were a packaged deal and were both selected on the same team, same position on the NFL draft. Alejandro is especially hyped when playing against Philip Graves, QB of the Dallas Shadows. They have had beef with each other on and off the field since they played against each other for the first time. Ale’s average sack during a game against Dallas is approximately 5 per game, he sometimes is way too harsh while tackling making him get a couple of flags whenever he blitzes and sacks. He’s often scolded by his friend Rudy, but he does not care as long as he can sack Graves.

Kate Laswell (Defensive Coordinator)

(Drawing to be posted!)

was raised in Virginia, USA. Both her parents and brothers loved football and so did she. Since elementary, she watched and never missed a game during weekends, she always had a fascination for the Chicago Bears and their ‘85 team. Her father told her about how that defense, without an extraordinary QB or offense made them win the superbowl and also made them the best defense of all time. After witnessing that season and that Superbowl, she fell in love with how the defense scheme in football works. Unfortunately professional football for women wasn’t an option, so she studied a lot to become a defensive coordinator. She studied day and night, memorizing the plays, analyzing games and creating new playbooks since she was young. She struggled a lot to have an opportunity since it was a male-dominated team. One of her childhood friends made it to the roster to become a defensive coordinator for the Colorado Buffaloes College Football Team, he was a good coach but not “impressive”. She supported him by attending his games but couldn't help but try to talk to him whenever she thought he could do better, often interrupting his play callings during his games to make him change the play, and it always worked. She and his friend attended a College Bowl, and met John Price at that game, the three of them watched the game and she started to tell both of them what adjustment she would do for both teams, and that piqued John’s interests as she was awfully right, he was impressed by how well she read offense’s routes and how she was able to change from a 3-4 or 4-3 to a hybrid defense. He decided to give her a chance and hired her as his new defensive coordinator for the 141’s and established a very good partnership and friendship with her ever since.

Farah Karim (Intern Physical Therapy Student - Watergirl)

(Drawing to be posted!)

Farah Karim is a university medical student who got an internship in his junior year of college to be the water girl and help around the New Hampshire 141s team. She comes from an immigrant family and is the pride and joy of her parents. She struggled so much in her younger years to pursue an education and get into a good college in the USA, she managed to get a scholarship due to her great school performance and was given the chance to work with a professional football team. She met Alex Keller after his rookie season and developed a close friendship with them that later turned into a romantic interest. She is grateful for his help and also supports him during games. Her classmates usually bug her by asking Farah to let them meet Alex or to set them up with him, which she dislikes very much.

(OC) Alyssa Martinez (Offensive Coordinator)

Aly was born in Mexico and moved to the USA thanks to a scholarship she received when she graduated from High School and moved to Texas to attend college. As soon as she graduated from Texas A&M holding a Bachelor of Science in Sport Management, she started working as an offensive coordinator at a local highschool. She then escalated to being an offensive coordinator for the College she attended. Aly managed to take the team to a College Bowl where she met 141s Head Coach John Price and became acquaintances after that game, they kept communication after that game, as Aly asked for suggestions for her playbook and she helped Price on suggesting him prospects for the upcoming draft selection and also players on free agency. She was later hired by Price as his offensive coordinator and they began to have a low key romantic relationship. She specializes in West Coast offense, having her team play the Air Coryell scheme. She suggested Price to draft Alex Keller as he was the perfect pocket passer that would fit their offense perfectly. She’s an avid Tom Brady fan.

(OC) Charlotte Le Jardin (Physical Therapist)

Originally from England, Jade was adopted by an American couple and moved with them to the United States at an early age. Her parents, Eli and Gracie, worked at Bravo Stadium, home of the 141s, and Jade became a constant presence on the sidelines. As time went by, the Bravo Stadium became her home. Jade started helping around the sidelines bringing water, towels, medical kits, and even helping out in the blue tent, all the while completing her college in biological science and doctor of physical therapy (DPT), and of course, licensing in Physical Therapy. When she got her license, her experience was already on par with the other physiotherapists since she had been jumping from senior to seniors, learning and practicing all she could. Kate Laswell who has been seeing Jade there since she was a teenager, hired Jade as one of the many physiotherapists for 141s, and with that came a fateful challenge: a newcomer Tight End with a torn ACL from his rugby days, who’s trying to get back to his top form in order to play in the NFL.

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PHEW so there you have it! If you've read it this far, oh my LORD me and Aly love you so much! This is a pretty severe brainrot that we had, so hope you like it!

And let's enjoy the 2024 NFL Season 🏈🏈🏈

Hope you like it! 🥰🥰

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rimunagenius · 3 months

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Only Angel — K.M

❝ words : 1.5k ❞

❝ warnings : RPF!! , suggestive , body worship , jealous!Kate , fwb theme ❞ (dk if i forgot anything, if i did lmk!)

❝ rimunagenius speaks : sorry this took a literal fortnite to complete LMAO (pls idek if this good :// )…anyways i have summer school bc o my fuck ass chem teacher soooo lowk might take a while to put other stuff out but i’ll try i promise!! ❞

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Kate noticed you on the baseline at every single one of your home games. Your black and gold cheer uniform fitting you insanely perfect. Your short skirt and your form fitting top. You looked so pretty, so beautiful, so angelic, you were truly a distraction sometimes. The way you moved hypnotizing her whenever she wasn't focused on her team.

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth

And there's nothing I can do about it

It took about five months of dancing around the physical attraction you both had towards the other before making what was happening between you two something. You both had amazing futures set out for you, establishing yourselves in your sports. You were on track to become a professional cheerleader, NFL cheerteams already inviting you to camps.

Kate was optimistic that she'd become a prospect in the upcoming draft. Deciding to continue to put all he focus into basketball. So why on earth were you both suddenly trying to pursue something that could be nuclear to your careers.

Kate had been buried between your legs for the better part of an hour. "Oh my god, Kate. I love you." The initial shock in the declaration immediately set a new tone in the atmosphere that you two had spent months building up.

Her lips paused the attack on you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips, now accepting the consequences of your own actions. "Im sorry, what?" There was no denying the cultivation of feelings you two began to nurse. There was no point in lying to herself that she didn't feel the same way.

"Forget it, just please, don't stop." You squirmed under her gaze. Now growing increasingly uncomfortable with the look she seemed to be giving you, and now uncomfortable with the abrupt confession.

"You know that I can't just drop basketball." She sighed, her forefingers pinching the bridge of her nose. The frustration that immediately began to build within your chest, at her action of dismissing your confession.

"Alright, whatever. Forget about it, didn't mean it anyways." You sighed heavily, suggestively spreading your legs, signalling her to continue, foregoing any act of bashfullness and self preservation you had to give.

"No, because we had this conversation. I need to focus on basketball right now. Not to sound rude but you're not in the picture yet. I'm pretty sure I'm not even in the picture for you're life right now." The short tone she took with you was something almost foreign.

You didn't like the tone, rolling your eyes at her. Suddenly the small smirk you grew accustomed to in this scene, inching it's way onto her face. So over the awkwardness but totally enthralled by the way she manages to manipulate the situation to make it seem less harsh than it really is, annoys you. She’s so good at making you forget about why you were mad at her when she has that look on her face. Chuckling softly, looking away to your left, you grabbed her blonde hair at the back of her head and shoved her head back down where you both were needing.

The slight aggression and dominance you took elicited a gravel moan from the depths of her throat. The reverberation could be felt everywhere. You guys just couldn't help but feel the way you felt for each other.

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't you take home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

Kate didn't know what it was but the feeling brewing in her chest from the sight of you with another girl had her on a whole new level. You guys never put a label on what it was between the both of you. You guys just had a common ground.

Thats why she didn't know why she was pounding the living shit our of your door at two in the morning. Team outing at a local bar in Iowa City, invite extended to you from your mutual friends, turned into you leaving with another girl. She was your friend, deciding you were tired of your shoes, opting to go home and drink your own beer without people bothering you and asking if you two were single. Seemed like the most optimal solution. Until you realized that the pounding on your door signaled you forgot to tell Kate.

Kate had felt the anger and anxiety build up in her the longer her fist repeatedly connected with the wooden door of your apartment. The dread of finding another girl in the apartment where she thought only you two seemed to find yourself in more often then not was unsettling. Mainly because she thought this was going somewhere but you just called it casual. She had you.

"Jesus Christ, Kate. It's two in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?" You looked at her perplexed, the cold breeze hitting you from the hallway. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the crop top and the short sleep shorts you made yourself comfortable in now suddenly sounding like the worst idea.

"Who did you leave with?" Is she fucking serious right now? You looked at her like she had suddenly grown two more heads.

"Are you serious? That's why you came banging on my door at two in the fucking morning? Because you wanted to know who I left the bar with?" The animosity in your voice growing as she continued to keep the straight face she had since you opened the door, but moved on her feet in anticipation.

"Yeah. Was she a friend or...?" You genuinely laughed at the way she was acting. Two nights ago you had confessed that you loved her accidentally, but truthfully, and all she could say was you weren't what she envisioned herself with in the future. Atleast not yet. So you both decided to continue doing what you have been for the last two months.

"Like you care?" You scoffed, walking away from the door, letting her in. She closed the door behind her, kicking her shoes off, and hanging her jacket up on the hook next to yours. You walked through the whole apartment, knowing she’d follow. She did. You didn't say a single thing but just look at her while she saw no girl had been in your apartment.

"She was my friend, Kate. She was in one of my classes and we came here for and she only stayed for like twenty minutes before she walked to her floor." You now stood in the middle of your room, a room Kate had been all too familiar with.

"That's it?" Kate's brows raised, her body inching closer to yours.

"Yes. I'm not easy you know." You rolled her eyes, unintentionally getting a rise out of Kate. For some reason she seemed to like when you had an attitude with her. "Don't even think about it, Kate." You looked at her, the knowing gaze her eyes held that your eyes were trained to remember.

"Why not? You’re always easy for me." Her voice dropping and becoming faint as she slowly reached one hand to your waist. She knew you’d let her have her way. You always did. You were just equally as dirty and needy for Kate as she was for you. She couldn’t take you anywhere…she loved it. She got to have you in private any way she wanted.

"You're seriously asking that after you just stormed into my apartment thinking I was sleeping with another woman when that wasn't the deal we made. The lack of boundaries you seem to have." You sighed as her other hand connected with your waist, pulling you into her chest while her lips started their attack on your neck.

"Mhm." She hummed softly, planting an open mouthed kiss right below your ear.

"Kate, are you serious?" You were genuinely shocked that she just forewent her previous accusation against you, and suddenly thinks she'll get lucky tonight. It was slowly working, dammit.

"Why are you still talking, baby?" Her hands on your waist slipped underneath the hem of your crop top, her cold, ringclad fingers, slowly traveling the familiar path that brought her so much pleasure. Her eyes now looking into yours, she smiled before looking at your lips.

Who were you to resist her when she looked this good? You probably should have but there was no going back after you connected your lips. It didn't take more than two seconds to have her slowly backing you up against the side of your bed, making you fall onto your back.

You inched your way towards the headboard, you resting neatly on the pillows as you watched her discard her shirt. She got onto the bed, working her way from you bare legs, all the way up your stomach. The way she crawled slowly above you, ravishing you before she intended to tear you apart was so sultry and almost cinematic that you couldn't even breathe.

Later on, the talk needed to be had. You both would have to unanimously decide to commit to one another. There was nothing casual about the way her lips traveled to every part of your body, with small chants of appraisal leaving her lips, ghosting your skin with goosebumps in their wake...nothing casual about it.

"You're like an actual angel, baby. Can't get enough of you." Her lips barely articulated the words that she desperately needed to get off her chest, as they tried to kiss you everywhere all at once. You almost didn't catch it when she kissed up the apex of your thighs, mumbling 'mine' over and over again.

In her eyes, you were literally an angel, needing to be worshipped.

She's an angel

My only angel

363 notes · View notes

starsinthesky5 · 6 months

Text

you are in love | joe burrow x reader

description: how did you end up falling head over heels for the quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals? but most importantly, how did the quarterback end up falling harder for you?

a/n: this is my first fic ever so bare with me! i’m still getting the hang of writing about joe. i have tried a few times but ended up deleting them because I didn’t like how they turned out LOL. buttt I got bored and got a little confidence and decided to try again. i hope you all like it (if anyone even reads this). this is based off of one of my favorite songs ever and I thought it would make a nice fic. i hope its not too cringe, enjoy :)

warnings: slight smut and allusions to sex, language

word count: 5.5 k

part 2

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

present day:

One look, Dark Room

Meant just, For you

Time moved too fast, You play it back

“And that should do it,” Joe says as he places the final pillow onto the fort.

“Didn’t know you had “architect” in your job portfolio. This is impressive,” you giggled as you got into the fort.

“No need for the flattery babe, gotta make sure your first night here is comfy so you come back,” Joe replied while draping a blanket over your legs.

“Oh I’ll be back, someone has to use the massive pool, and knowing you, you won’t go in there without me,” you said while thinking about all the exciting things you’ll get to do with him at his new house.

“You got that right, but you’re the one who needs to hang on to me and use me as her personal flotation device,” he says as he settles on the pillows across from you.

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t be so huggable Mr. Burrow,” you say before throwing a pillow at him.

Today was you and Joe’s 6 month anniversary. You two had spent the entire day moving Joe into his new house that he bought when he signed his extension. There were boxes everywhere and hardly any furniture set up, so Joe ended up building a blanket fort for the night. He spent every free moment apologizing for not being able to do something romantic for your anniversary, but you didn’t mind. Any moment with him was special.

“Thank you for helping me out today, I know you probably didn’t think we’d be spending most of the weekend doing this when I asked you to come to Cincinnati,” He said as he was fidgeting with his wristbands.

You lived all the way in Los Angeles and were currently in the middle of working on your 3rd studio album. You were in desperate need of a break and inspiration, so you jumped on the first flight to Cincinnati to see your favorite person.

“Joe, you've apologized enough. Seriously, it’s perfectly fine. You know that I don’t care about the fancy dates and over-the-top gestures. Any time we get to spend together means the world to me, even if it involves carefully moving your extensive Lego collection to the new house,” you chuckle while rubbing his foot.

Joe’s heart was exploding while you were talking. He seriously doesn’t understand how he got so lucky. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him and he wanted to do everything possible to show you. But the one thing he adored most about you was that you didn’t care for all the glitz and glamor of dating an NFL quarterback. And you loved that he didn’t care about your Hollywood status or all the attention you’d get from the public.

Joe got up on his knees and crawled over to the spot next to you. Once he sat down, you immediately latched onto him and buried yourself into his neck, missing the warmth of his body.

“See, you’re so huggable,” you murmured against his neck.

You heard him softly laugh and felt his hand move up your side, squeezing your arm. “How did I get so lucky” you wondered to yourself.

——————————————————

first meeting:

Buttons on a coat, Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

Flashback to July 4th: The Hamptons, New York

You dreaded going to the big 4th of July bash hosted by Micheal Rubin every year, but as an up-and-coming musician, saying “No” to this kind of party would be stupid given the number of connections you could make. The party would always have the most elite Celebrities, Models, Musicians, and Athletes; meaning a lot of small talk and fake laughing. This would be your third time going, and every time you end up sitting in the corner, alone with your way too strong Vodka Martini, counting down the minutes until you could leave. But this year, something was different.

You did end up sitting in the corner with your way too-strong Martini, but you weren't alone. And you certainly weren't counting down the minutes until you could leave. Hell, you were even wishing this night would never end.

“What happens to Football Players when they become blind?” he asked.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you replied.

“They become referees,” he said while smirking.

“Joe! You can’t say that!” you wheezed out. You couldn't contain your laughter any longer. You weren’t sure if it was because of the Martini, or the fact that Joe Burrow was sitting next to you, also drinking a Vodka Martini.

“Hey, it’s the truth, but you didn’t hear that from me,” Joe said while throwing his hands up.

“You got it Mr. QB1, but I do agree; it’s such BS when they miss the most clear calls,” you giggled.

You weren’t really sure how you and Joe ended up basically spending the entire party by each other's side. One minute you're about to sit and scroll on your phone as usual, and the next thing you know you’re telling your life story to a guy you just met. Were you a little buzzed, absolutely. But something about him made you feel comfortable and safe, even though you just met.

“You’re really cool by the way,” Joe whispered.

“Gee, aren’t you Shakespeare,” you smiled and took another sip of your drink.

“Seriously though. The entire time we've been sitting here, not once did you purposefully bring up the fact that I’m an NFL quarterback. Not many girls can talk to me without bringing up football or trying to flirt with me. It’s exhausting,” he confessed but quickly realized how cocky he sounds. “Not that every girl tries to flirt with me,” he added.

You laughed and said, “Well, lucky for you I find more value in real conversations than all that superficial stuff. I totally understand the feeling, I love talking to people about my music but after a certain point I just want to talk about normal things and have real conversation,”

I do think it’s cool that you’re a football player since I grew up watching it, but I want to know more about you, not the quarterback,” you continue.

“Well then Miss Y/N, I’m in New York for a few more days, let me take you out to dinner so you can get to know the real Joe a little more,” he boldly asked.

You stared into his deep blue eyes, eyes you wouldn’t mind getting lost in. Something about those eyes was promising. You’ve only just met him and for all you know, he could be a typical “Fuck Boy athlete” looking for a quick hookup. There was nothing to attest to what he was saying, but part of you was willing to take the risk. Something about him felt different.

“Earth to Y/N-”

“Okay,” was all you said.

Little did you know that saying yes to Joe was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made.

——————————————————

early dating:

Small talk, he drives

Coffee at midnight

The light reflects, The chain on your neck

He says, “Look up”, And your shoulders brush

No proof, one touch, But you felt enough

Flashback to your first time visiting Joe in Cincinnati

It had been a few weeks since you and Joe had dinner together and he had been nothing but a gentleman. The two of you talked about everything from your childhoods to your current aspirations, to your favorite music, and even geeking out about Marvel Movies plus everything nerdy. Joe made you feel good about yourself. He would always tell you how pretty you looked and paid the most attention whenever you would talk. He made you feel butterflies, something which you hadn’t felt in a long time.

After you left New York, the two of you couldn’t stop talking to each other. The silly conversations eventually turned into deep ones; you telling him things you’ve only shared with a select number of people. You felt comfortable when you were talking to him, so this wasn’t difficult for you. He shared things with you about himself that he would only share with those close to him, which was very few since he kept a tight circle. You both shared a mutual feeling of trust, willing to lay yourself bare just to get to know one another. You’d always text him after a vigorous studio sesh to vent and he would update you on his off-season progress. Those texts eventually turned into late-night facetimes, which ended up in Joe asking you to fly out and see him. You hesitated a bit before saying yes. In the back of your mind, you were scared. You knew that the more you two talked and saw one another, the more attached you’d get. He could break your heart into a thousand pieces if you weren’t careful. But you owed it to yourself and to Joe to try.

You hummed along to whatever song was playing on the radio as you looked out the window and watched the bright city skyline fade. It was currently midnight in Cincinnati and Joe insisted that he take you to his favorite secret spot on your first trip here.

“You tired?” Joe asked as he glanced over to you, taking in every one of your features.

God you looked so pretty, he thought. You were wearing one of his old Athens Football hoodies and had your hair in a messy bun. You weren’t wearing any makeup and even had on a pair of his slides, which were a few sizes too big. Even in your most natural state, he looked at you like you were a diamond.

“A little. Didn’t get a lot of sleep on the plane,” you yawned out.

“I promise this will be worth it,” Joe said as he placed his hand on your bare thigh.

You immediately tensed up at the foreign contact. Joe felt you tense up and went to remove his hand but you put it right back on your thigh and felt your face turning red. Your stomach was doing somersaults right now.

“Those damn butterflies,” you thought to yourself.

“So, how’s the album coming along?” Joe casually questioned as if he didn’t just make you want to scream out of excitement.

“It’s good, slow, but making progress. I feel like I’ve hit a dead end and am having major writer's block so I think stepping away from it for a little bit will be good for me. Things were getting a bit stuffy and loud. I feel like I was getting somewhere but it always ends up being nothing,” you say as you place your hand on top of his, playing with his fingers.

“That’s good, I hope this weekend will be a breath of fresh air for you. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Always remember that you’re doing your best,”

You looked over at Joe and felt your heart swell up. He knew exactly what to say and how to make a girl feel special.

~10 minutes later~

“We’re here,” Joe says as he turns off the car.

You looked out the window and saw nothing but trees and grass. You were confused as to where he brought you but before you could ask him, he got out of the car and jogged to your door to open it for you.

“Thank you, Joey,” you blushed as he closed the door behind you.

Joe stepped behind you and whispered into your ear “Close your eyes, I promise it’ll make it even better”.

You closed your eyes and felt his hand on the small of your back. He led you through what felt like a clearing in the trees to a flat grassy patch. You could feel the cold wind against your bare legs meaning that you were out of the woods.

“Open,” he told you.

When you opened your eyes you were met with the most beautiful sight. The same skyline you saw up close, now you were looking at from a distance. It was breathtaking. In Front of you was a picnic blanket and a beautiful set up of candles.

“Holy shit Joe, this is beautiful,” you say in awe.

“Welcome to the lookout point. My favorite place to go when I need a minute alone. I also remember you mentioning how you loved looking at skylines during the sunset and even though we couldn’t make it for the sunset part, I thought this would be the next best thing,” He says as he leads you both to the blanket.

You both sat down on the blanket and he immediately pulled you into his chest. You both faced the bright skyline and all Joe could think about was how much peace he felt at that moment. It was just the two of you sitting in your own little world. The darkness and quietness around you both felt comforting because it was a sign that this moment was just for you both; no outside noise or distractions.

“This is insane, I mean you can see the whole city and river from up here!” You say as you settle into his arms, your back to his chest.

“That’s not even the best part Y/N, look up,” He points.

You turn your head up to look at him and then you look up. You’re met with what is probably the clearest view of the stars you’ve ever gotten.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, not removing your eyes from the sky.

“You’re beautiful,” Joe says while looking down at you.

You got that feeling again. Your stomach was doing somersaults and the butterflies were back. Could this be that feeling? A feeling you hadn’t felt in a while? That feeling you get when the right person enters your life at the right time? Was Joe that person? So many questions filled your head that you didn’t realize Joe had been softly caressing your thigh the entire time which pulled you out of your trance.

“That right there is the Big Dipper which points straight to-”

“Polaris,” you interrupt.

“Space nerd,” Joe shakes his head and laughs out.

“Don’t think I don’t know about your space nerdy ways Burrow, I know this is your domain,” you huff out. Joe had told you back in New York that he loved anything and everything space and physics-related. You admired how someone like him was a complete nerd under the tough shell he had. You naturally went back to your apartment and spent an hour or two updating yourself on space quick facts, which certainly paid off.

You slowly got out of his embrace and sat up across from him.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a hint of confusion in his voice.

“No, nothing’s wrong Joe,” you chuckle.

“It’s perfect actually. It’s all perfect. You’re perfect,” you say as you move closer to him, still sitting up. “You know how to make a girl feel special, this was really sweet of you Joe,” you say as you play with the strings of his your hoodie.

“I just wanna make my girl feel special,” he confesses while moving your hair out of your face.

His girl.

Those were the only words you needed to hear before you jumped onto him and pressed your lips against his. His lips fit perfectly against yours like you were made for each other, so soft and sweet. He slipped his tongue in between the valley of your lips and entered your mouth which caused you to let out a soft whimper. You both spent a few moments exploring each other’s mouths before he broke apart the heated moment.

“I take that as a “yes I’ll be your girlfriend”,” he questioned while searching your face for an answer.

“I didn’t know you were asking,” you teased.

Joe’s face dropped, did he push you too fast? You noticed his facial expression change and immediately pressed a soft kiss onto the tip of his nose and laughed, “Yes silly, I’ll be your girl,”.

——————————————————

it's getting serious:

Morning, his place, Burnt toast, Sunday

You keep his shirt, He keeps his word

And for once, you let go, Of your fears & your ghosts

One step, not much, But it said enough

Flashback to Joe’s house (4 months into dating)

The warm sunlight flooded the room as you slowly woke up, your body sore and wrapped up in Joe’s sheets, and Joe himself. Joe was sound asleep, fully koala bear hugging you with his head on your chest. God, how does he look so perfect this early in the morning? His dirty blonde curls were sprawled out against your chest and his lips were curled up, almost smiling. Your eyes moved to his back, a few red scratches still visible. You made a mental note that you should probably trim down on the length of your acrylics if this was going to become a common thing for you two, smiling at the thought of what unfolded the night before. You freed your hand from under the sheets and moved it around his back, hoping to soothe any pain you caused.

The two of you had stumbled into his house late last night after a delicious dinner and wine tasting at a local winery. You two had a few too many glasses of wine and were lucky you made it home in one piece.

Flashback to last night

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that many glasses of wine in one sitting before,” you slurred as Joe led you inside the kitchen.

“Me either, next time make sure I stop after the 3rd glass. And it’s a good thing we got someone to take us back and forth,” he said as he took off his jacket and went to get you both some water.

“Literally. If you were to drive I think we’d end up in the Ohio River,” you deadpanned.

“Haha, really funny,” Joe said as he handed you a glass of water.

“God my feet feel like they’re on fire,”. You wailed out while taking a sip of the icy cold beverage.

Joe looked over at you and saw you eyeing your feet. You were wearing a short skin-tight black dress; one of his favorites. The low cut of the dress highlighted your neck which had his favorite part of your outfit. The necklace he gave you for your 1 month anniversary. A simple pendant with the letter “J”. After he gave you that necklace, you never took it off. It became a part of you, and he noticed that.

Joe crouched down and began untying your heels.

“Joe you don’t have to do that,” you cooed while twirling your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he said while flashing you a smile.

He helped you step out of your heels and back onto the ground. Once he got back up he wrapped his big hands around your waist and your hands immediately found their home around his neck and into his hair again.

You inched your face a little closer to his and pressed a delicate kiss onto his soft pink lips.

“Hi,” you whisper against his lips. This time, he pressed a soft kiss on your nose.

“Hi,” he whispered back, staring into your eyes.

“Tonight was really fun. Thank you for always knowing how to get my mind off of things,” you say while staring into his baby blues.

“No need to thank me Y/N. I know how hard you work and how things can become overwhelming. I’m glad that I can get your mind off of things, even if it’s for a little bit,”

He wasn’t wrong. Things often become too much for you back in LA and coming to Joe was your escape. Being with him blocked out the outside noise, you would completely forget about whatever was bothering you. You guys would often end up doing the most random things together, without any plan, but that was okay. Those nights where you’d end up eating Chinese takeout on the floor while building a new Lego set were your favorites. The hot summer days where you both would spend the entire afternoon attached to each other in the pool was one of your favorite ways to destress, it was just the two of you. He is your shelter in the hurricane that is your life.

For Joe, it was very similar. Anytime football would get too real, he’d come straight to you. You were always there whenever he needed to vent or talk something out, knowing you’d always listen. You had been to every single one of his games so far and were always waiting for him in the suite after. Whether he was upset after a shitty game or on Cloud 9, you were always there waiting with open arms. And he loved it. He loved being able to share his high moments with you, even if you had to see some of his lows. Your relationship hadn’t become public yet, which you two were incredibly grateful for. You both were incredibly private people and wanted to take in as much as you could before the whole world had an opinion of your romance. Getting to know each other in private, away from prying eyes, was a blessing.

The two of you continued to stare into each other's eyes, you found yourself once again getting lost in his.

You felt Joe’s hand migrate to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze.“Getting handsy now aren’t we, Burrow,” you softly giggled.

“Can’t help it if my girl looks so goddamn beautiful in this dress,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I appreciate the flattery Mr. Burrow, but do you need something from me or are you just being a flirt” you teased.

“I need you,” he blurted out.

Your heart almost beat out of your chest when you heard him say that. You and Joe haven’t taken that step in your relationship. You’ve had your fair share of heated make-outs that occasionally involve wandering hands, but nothing like that has happened, yet. It’s not that you didn’t want to, god you wanted to. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to climb him like a tree. His perfectly sculpted chest, his muscular arms, those thighs, and that face. He made you weak in the knees, and he was well aware. He never pressured you to go there, letting you know that it’s okay to take things slow. But tonight you didn’t feel like taking it slow.

“Then show me, Joe,” you said as you felt your arousal shoot up.

Joe immediately picked you up, bridal style, causing you to let out a shriek. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he launched you both up the stairs, taking the steps 2 at a time, eventually rushing into the bedroom.

“Joe, slow down!” You squeak out while laughing.

He carefully laid you on his bed admiring you for a second; you looked perfect, even with messy hair and smudged makeup. Joe moved onto the bed and started placing soft butterfly kisses up your arm, right up to that spot on your neck that he knows you love.

“Joe, please,” You whimpered, fully implying you wanted more with the tone of your voice.

Joe removed himself from your neck, looked into your eyes, and said “Are you sure?”.

You smiled and said “Absolutely,”.

He then captured your lips in a passionate and deep kiss. You felt like kissing him till your lips fell off, it was like heaven when you two would connect. Slowly, both of your clothes ended up on the floor and those passion-filled kisses turned messy and sloppy. You felt those butterflies in your stomach again as he was kissing his way down your body. You did not doubt that Joe would be careful with you, and you knew he wanted this just as much as you did.

End of Flashback

You decided to go back to sleep since it was still pretty early and you know Joe was tired from last night. You woke up a few hours later to the smell of cinnamon and coffee.

“Mmmm,” You say as you stretch out. You didn’t feel any weight on you anymore so Joe must have woken up. You looked around the room and didn’t see him anywhere so you decided to freshen up in his bathroom and head downstairs. When you entered the bathroom you saw one of his shirts (a purple long sleeve LSU shirt aka one of your favs) on the counter with a sticky note saying “For you :)”. You put on the soft shirt (which was way too big) and start fixing your messy hair before heading downstairs.

You walk into the kitchen and see the dining table decked out with a vase of pink carnations (which happens to be your favorite flower), 2 plates of French toast, and a smoothie for Joe. You also noticed a mug of coffee which made you smile. Joe knew that you would be a zombie the whole day if you didn’t have your daily morning coffee. Joe was too busy cooking the bacon to notice you coming downstairs, so you walked up behind him and wrapped your hands around him from behind.

“Good morning sexy chef,” you murmured against his back.

“Tryna get me going again?” He teased.

“You wish, last night was a damn workout. I need at least 3 hours to recover before we go at it again,” you giggled.

You heard his soft laugh before he spun around and wrapped his hands around your waist. “Well, we will def be repeating that. “Sooner the better,” he added.

“Horndog,” you said as you pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“Only for you babe,” he says before going back to the bacon. “I’m almost done with this, you can sit at the table.”

“Damn, quarterback, perfect boyfriend, and chef? Impressive job portfolio,” you say while walking to the table and sitting down.

Joe finished cooking the bacon and sat down across from you. “The French toast is a little burnt, I got distracted by the TV,” he admitted. “They were showing this month’s Top 10 funniest cat videos.”

You burst out laughing and say “Guess I should add Cat Lady to your job portfolio too,”

You two spent the morning digging into the delicious breakfast Joe had prepared, even though the French toast was slightly burnt. He talked about the upcoming football season and how excited he was for the new offensive schemes they had come up with. After breakfast, you both ended up on the couch and decided to play a round of go fish. You gave him some album updates, which he’d constantly ask for, and even played one of your demos for him.

“Y/N this is amazing,” he said softly. The song he had just heard was called “Sweet Nothing”, and you weren't planning on ever letting anyone hear it because of how intimate and special it was. A big part of what you did involved you being in the public eye a lot, which allowed everyone to nitpick and talk about your life. It was exhausting how often people would comment on your relationships, friendships, career, body, and everything in between. They always expected you to be perfect in every aspect and when you weren’t, they would make it known. You had written about how Joe never expected anything from you like everyone else did. Being with him was easy and you knew you could always go to him whenever the background noise would get too loud. And now here he was, listening to those feelings you had a hard time saying out loud.

“Thank you. To be honest I wasn’t planning on letting anyone hear that,” you say while looking down and fidgeting with your rings.

“Really?” he asked. “It’s really good, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your boyfriend.”

“Yep. I love it, I really do. I think it’s one of the best songs I’ve written so far, but I feel like it’s too bare and the fans won’t understand the real meaning behind the song. And I feel like they won’t like it.”

“And that’s exactly why you should release it. I know the real you, and that is the real you,” he says while pointing at your phone. Screw the fans, you should do what makes you happy.” he says before reaching for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “You make music because that makes you happy and you shouldn’t have to worry about what people will say. If they have an issue with you doing what you want, then they are sure as hell not fans.”

You got up on your knees and jumped onto Joe’s body, making you both lay flat against each other on the couch.

“How do you always know what to say,” you beam while prepping soft kisses all over his face.

Your heart felt like it was about to explode. It only took a few months for someone you just met to understand you more than people following your journey over the past few years. Joe’s words felt like a warm comforting hug, and they always made you feel like everything was going to be okay. You valued his words so much, you trusted him so much, and he loved that you were so open and vulnerable with him. He knew that opening up was difficult for you, and he felt at peace knowing you felt comfortable confiding in him. You weren't holding back anymore. You were 100% open and honest with him and he never took advantage of it. Your fears of getting hurt were fading away.

——————————————————

present day:

You kiss on sidewalks, You fight and you talk

One night he wakes, Strange look on his face,

Pauses, then says, “You’re my Best Friend”

And you knew what it was, He is in Love

“Y/N?” was all you heard as you felt your shoulder shake. “Did I lose you there?” Joe asked.

“What?” you questioned as you looked up at him. You were back in the fort Joe built for you two.

“I was asking what you thought of the house,” he says as he plays with your hair. “Is something wrong?” he asks.

“Oh. Sorry, I must have dozed off for a second,” you lied, not admitting you were caught in a series of flashbacks. “I think it’s amazing. It’s sooo big and has so much potential.” you continue.

“Yeah, it is pretty big,” he says with a sigh. You look up at him and immediately sense the change in his tone plus the dejected look on his face, “Is that not what you wanted?” you say with concern. “I thought you wanted a big house.”

“I did, I do. I just don’t want to be alone in this big of a house when you aren’t here,” he confessed, feeling slightly embarrassed as if he didn’t have other things to occupy his free time. “Unless,” he added.

“Unless what?” you asked.

He hesitated before saying, “Move in with me”.

It took a few moments for your brain to register what he said to you. You immediately sat up, as did he. You were about to say something but he cut you off before you could.

“Y/N. These past 6 months have been nothing short of peaceful and amazing. Being with you brings me the balance I need in my life. I know that if I ever fly too high or get lost, I have someone who can find me and bring me back down. You are everything I’ve ever wanted in life, and now you’re everything I need.” he says.

“You’re my biggest cheerleader, my support system, my safety net, but most importantly.” He pauses and says, "You're my best friend.” “And I love you.” he finishes.

Those 3 words. The 3 words that you’ve wanted to say to him for months but didn’t because you weren’t entirely sure if he felt the same way. Those 3 words just came out of his mouth, and he meant it. He loved you more than anything and he needed to make it known. He needed to wake up to your smile every morning. He needed to hear your voice echo through the halls of the house. You made him feel loved, and he needed you to know that.

You didn’t realize the hot tears streaming down your cheeks until Joe lifted his hand and started wiping them.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks, feeling nervous since you didn’t respond to anything he just said.

You started crying even harder. He loved you. He really loved you.

“Y/N you’re scaring me”.

“Shut up,” you said before you put your hands on his face and brought him in for a passionate kiss.

You kissed him for a few heartbeats and finally whispered against his lips “I love you,” loud enough for just him to hear before you captured his lips in another kiss.

He stops kissing you and stares into your eyes for a moment, getting lost in them like you do with his eyes. “So about my first question,” he beams.

“Yes silly, I’ll move in with you,” you giggle. “Someone has to make sure that you don’t burn this place down while making french toast. You got lucky last time,” you laugh out while remembering that morning.

“Haha, really funny babe,” he says before pulling you into a hug. The warmth of your bodies pressed together was the most comforting feeling in the world. Joe spent the rest of the night telling you how much he loved you, and you reciprocated the feeling by showing him how much you loved him.

We’re in love.

—The End—

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

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trippinsorrows · 1 month

Text

give me a reason + two

authors note: wow! so humbled by people's interest in this one! forgot to mention that i'll be playing around with joe's career, in terms of the timeline and whatnot.

also, if ya'll ever watched the bernie mac show, i was very much inspired in one section by that scene where vanessa and them was doing that car wash at bernie's house lmaooo

in addition (last point, i swear lmao), i can do faceclaims for the character, mainly mariella's family. if ya'll want. i know some people prefer to visualize for themselves. just lmk.

i don't own any lyrics used.

previous chapter

words: 7k

song inspo: just give me a reason by p!nk and nate ruess

warnings: language, fluff, some angst, blink and you'll miss it sexy time.

Spring, 2005

Spring break.

The time looked forward to by most students, especially college students, who are granted a free week to get into all kinds of trouble, mischief and then return to campus like nothing ever happened.

Joe and Byron can’t deny that they’ve definitely had their fair share of that the first part of college, but now with two years under their belts and only two years left to go, they’re focused on having killer seasons and landing their dreams of going into the NFL.

It’s why when coach decides to give the players a break, canceling all practices during said break, there’s not even an initial question about what they should do with their time.

Home.

They’re going home.

Because while being away is nice at times, there’s absolutely no place like home and being surrounded by the people you love the most.

Byron glances at Joe who’s looking down at his phone. “You gonna see Brianna while we in town?”

Joe looks up. He can’t say he hasn’t thought about it. Brianna, Joe’s last high school girlfriend, was inarguably the easiest of all the girls he’s ever dated. And if not for him not wanting to be tied down while away at college, he would have tried to make it work.

“I don’t know,” he answers, truthfully. “We’ll see.”

“Well, I’m definitely hitting up Tamia. Heard she and ole’ dude broke up.”

Joe shakes his head. Tamia has been Byron’s on and off girlfriend since freaking middle school. They date, break up, date other people, break up with said other people and start right back over. Truthfully, Joe can see Tamia being the one for Byron considering how long they’ve been in this little cycle.

“Just make sure you’re safe, man.”

Byron looks like he’s just been told to make sure he wears a seatbelt. “Always, bro. You know me.”

Joe knows him alright. Knows he can be reckless at times. And with so much at stake in the next upcoming two years, they can’t afford to be reckless.

“I do. That’s why I’m saying it.”

“Man….” Joe laughs at Byron’s dismissal. “What do we have here?” Joe turns his attention to where Byron has set his gaze only to quickly scowl with disgust. “Ugh, they in high school.”

Joe is also instantly repulsed. “That’s fucking gross.”

Byron shakes in his seat, as if trying to shake the disgust off himself when he sees something. “Wait a minute…” Joe again tries to see what’s triggered the exclamation of irritation. “Oh hell no.”

“What are you—what the hell!” Joe shouts out as Byron suddenly swerves into the next turn lane, barely missing hitting a car. “The fuck are you doing, man!”

“That’s Ella out there!” He answers, speeding near the station where a bunch of high school girls are operating a car wash, trying to raise money for who knows what.

At the mention of Ri, Joe’s attention is snatched. “What?” He’s looking around as Byron looks to quickly park the truck, clearly eager to get out. Joe doesn’t see her just yet. It’s not until they’re parked and out of the car that his eyes land on her.

Her smile is the first thing he notices. She’s laughing. Not surprising. For as long as he’s known her, which has been his whole life essentially, she’s always the one in the group to make everyone laugh.

Usually from her klutziness.

It’s never a dull moment with Mariella Holmes.

Moving closer, he can see that it’s definitely Ri, and she’s giggling along with the other girls, dancing to what he recognizes is Black Eyed Peas latest song, “My Humps.”

It’s that realization that helps Joe understand why Byron is so annoyed.

The dancing could be seen as a bit provocative.

“Ella!”

Her head snaps up at Byron’s voice, easily landing on him. Joe watches her mouth drop open in shock before she shouts, “BJ!”

Dropping the soapy rag in the bucket, she’s nearly sprinting over to the two of them, tackling Byron with a hug first. “What are you doing here?”

It’s when she steps back that she moves over to him. She smirks, crossing her arms. “Should have known you wouldn’t turn down a chance to come see me.”

Joe laughs, pulling her in for a hug. “Never.”

“What am I doing here?” Byron cuts in, angrily gesturing to her. “What are you doing out here dressed like this?”

She looks down at her outfit, frowning. Joe does the same. It’s a bathing suit top with jean shorts and flip flops. What’s so bad about that?

And she expresses as such.

“Ummm, the dance team is having a car wash. We’re trying to raise money for travel costs this season.”

This doesn’t seem acceptable to Byron as he asks, “well, you ain’t having nothing else to wear? All exposed and everything.”

That’s when she rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so annoying.”

He starts to pull his shirt off when even Joe chimes in, “dude, come on.”

“She’s half naked!”

“I’m wearing a bathing suit, BJ.” Mariella says it like he’s slow. Like he was on the short bus. “I know you’ve been away at school, so you haven’t been around as much, but I have boobs now—”

At that, both Joe and Byron turn up their nose. The last thing they need is that type of visual.

She continues, gesturing to her body. “I hit puberty, and allll the areas started filling out. It happens!”

“I’m gonna be sick.” Byron covers his mouth. “I don’t give a damn. You’re sixteen, not twenty-one.”

She gives a sly smile. “That’s not what my fake ID says.”

Joe catches her gaze, seeing that she’s just messing with him. It makes him laugh.

“Your what? Girl, you done lost your damn mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Relax, BJ. You know I can’t get a fake ID. My dumbass would feel too bad and turn myself in.”

“That’s true,” Joe chimes, and she glares, reaching over to hit him. She starts to say something, only for her eyes to go wide. “What’s wrong?”

She says nothing, just awkwardly shifting her weight from one leg to another. He starts to ask again when a new voice joins the conversation.

“Hey, babe.”

Byron jumps to a new level of annoyance. “Babe?” He and Joe watch as some scrawny looking little boy, who’s really not that scrawny in actuality but looks it compared to Byron and Joe, walks up to Mariella, kissing her.

Byron looks like he’s about to have a stroke. He asks with all the smoke. “Who the hell are you?”

Scrawny scoffs and has the audacity to throw the question back at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Oh my god.” Mariella murmurs, slapping her hand against her forehead. “BJ, this is my boyfriend, Derrick—”

Mariella having a boyfriend makes sense to Joe. She’s 16 now. Why wouldn’t she be dating? It’s normal and expected.

If only Byron saw it that way. “Boyfriend? Since when do you have a boy—”

“Derrick, this is my brother, BJ or Byron, and basically like my non-blood brother, Joe.”

Scrawny AKA Derrick looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Oh shit, my bad—”

If only he knew that Byron doesn’t forgive nor does he forget when it comes to his little sisters, especially Mariella.

He steps toward the shorter young man. “Naw. You bad. You wanted to know who the hell I was, so let me tell you, I’m the nigga that’s gon fuck you up if you ever—”

“Byron!” Mariella is now fuming, grabbing him by his arm as she tugs him in a different direction. “Give us a couple minutes.” She flashes a sweet smile at Derrick and a pleading expression to Joe for him to also be nice.

Joe waits until they’re out of hearing distance. He then slaps Derrick on the arm. “Don’t take it personally. That’s just Byron. He’s always been a hothead.”

Derrick gives a nervous laugh, showing off braces that Joe didn’t notice before. He refrains from frowning. Ri could definitely do better than this dweeb. “You like Ri?”

Derrick shrugs, offering an unimpressive. “She’s alright.”

And that’s all Joe needs to hear to know what this kid is really about. Stepping toward him, he keeps his voice leveled and expression ice cold. “Do anything to hurt her, and you won’t have to worry about Byron.” He gives a steel smile. “I’m the one you’ll never see coming.”

———-

Present

Post-traumatic amnesia (PTA)

Or some milder form of it.

Amnesia, at the very least.

That’s what Dr. Reynolds says is the cause of Mari’s complete loss of memory. A result of the head trauma she received from the accident. A prognosis that somehow feels almost worse than the coma, at least to Joe.

Because for the life of him, he doesn’t know how to look at the woman he’s known his entire life, and have her look back at him like he’s a stranger, like she has no idea who he is.

Because she doesn’t have any idea who he is.

As devastating as that blow is, he knows it hits harder for her parents. April nearly collapsed in Byron Sr’s arms as Dr. Reynolds informed them of Mari’s memory loss.

She was in tears, desperately asking, “but—but she’ll get them back, right, doctor?”

And Joe only has to glance at the doctor, the way his lips press together before he informs sympathetically, “we don’t know. Some patients do eventually retrieve their memories. Others….others never do.”

Joe can’t even allow himself to think of the latter option.

A couple days post coma, he knocks on her door, seeing she’s alone, her parents most likely grabbing food or something.

She glances at the door offering a small smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. It’s insincere, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that either, because one of the things he’s always loved about her has always been her smile. So big and infectious. Just like her personality.

“Hey.” There’s nothing big and infectious about her almost unsure tone.

“Hey.” He doesn’t wait for her to welcome him in, just walks in, taking the seat on the side of her bed. “How you feeling?”

She gives a one sided shrug. He notices the cuts and bruising on her face have gone down tremendously. That's a plus in a situation full of minuses. “Don’t know.” After obviously thinking about the question more, she offers a more descriptive answer. “Very...confused.”

“About?” He then adds. “Maybe I can clear it up for you.”

“I don’t know. It’s….it’s mostly about who I am.” He could definitely answer that one for her. She shakes her head, providing an example. “Like, I’m apparently this big singer, but I can’t even think about singing right now. It doesn’t—it doesn’t even feel like me.” She chuckles bitterly. “Not that I know who me is.”

“You love music. Always have. And you’re good at it. Singing. Writing. Producing. Dancing. All of it.” She looks over at him as he says with all the honesty and sincerity, “there’s nothing, creatively, you can’t do.”

Mariella nods, as if taking in the information to analyze later on. “What about you?” She asks. “What do you do?”

A lot of things. A lot of things he now regrets deeply. But, that’s not her question. “Professional wrestler.” He starts to say WWE to see if she knows what that is, but that isn’t important. Shit about him isn’t the priority.

Mariella looks him over, nodding. “It fits.”

He smiles a bit. The first he’s done in weeks. “What else do you want to know?”

She’s quiet for a few moments before asking the question he didn’t know he was dreading until now. “How did I end up here?”

What a loaded question he was absolutely not prepared for.

There’s a lot of things that led them to where they are right now. A lot of which he blames himself for, and her as well, but not nearly as much as he blames himself. They both played a role in how badly their relationship deteriorated, but Joe puts the bulk of it on himself.

He’s older and should know better.

But, the specific incident that resulted in her accident, the blowout that ended with her requesting the one thing she always swore she never wanted to have happened when they got married…that’s it.

That is the truth she is probably looking for. It’s a truth, however, he can’t find it in him to tell her.

Because selfishly, he doesn’t want that to be the thing to trigger her memories, or any memories of all the things that have gone so terribly wrong the past two years. He doesn’t want that for her.

Doesn’t want it for them.

It’s why he settles on an answer that’s neither a lie but also not the full truth.

“You had a lot on your mind and went for a drive.” His voice shifts into something quiet. He’s still trying to process his feelings about that part of this whole thing. “You were hit head on by a drunk driver.”

Silence.

For a brief second, he’s unsure if he should have just told the truth. Been honest with her and let the cards fall as they may.

And then she speaks.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” He looks up. Joe sees it. That sense of humor that some could only take in doses, but for him, it’s always been a highlight. She’s always been able to put a smile on his face even in the darkest of his days. “How long have we been married?”

Another unexpected question, but he answers truthfully. “This March makes 11 years.”

“Wow.” This seems to take her by surprise. “And how long have we been together?”

“That….that’s a bit of a long story.”

She lifts her brow, gesturing to her hospital bed. “Not like I have anywhere to be.”

He chuckles. She has a point, but the story of them…that seems too complicated or detailed to share in a freaking hospital. Because in his mind, he’s started to sort the different ways and things he can do to help remind her of who she is.

Of who they were.

Finally, he answers, “I just—I think you should—”

There’s a knock on the door, Joe turning to see April and Byron Sr.

April is the first to speak, walking over to them. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She’s almost hesitant to move too close. Joe can see she wants nothing more to engulf her youngest in a hug but recognizes the same almost uncomfortable expression Mariella wore the minute he walked in.

“It’s okay.” He assures, going to stand up. “I’ll leave you guys—”

“Actually,” Byron Sr. interjects, shooting Joe a sympathetic expression. “We were hoping to speak with you.” He looks toward Mariella, and Joe hates it. Hates the almost discomfort that exists between them. She’s always been super close with her parents. Especially her dad. “If that’s alright, sweetheart?”

Mariella shrugs, clearly unbothered. “Sure.” She starts to lay back in her bed a little. “I’m kinda tired anyway.”

Joe wonders how much of that is truth, and how much of it is her just wanting to be alone from people who are virtual strangers.

Strangers…

That’s definitely a word he never thought could be used in any context regarding Mariella.

Once outside the room and in the private waiting area, her parents wait until a set of nurses pass before April is the first to speak. She reaches over and places a comforting hand. “How are you doing, Joe? Really?”

A mess. He’s a fucking mess. Joe has seen much, much better days than the past few weeks. But, he also doesn’t want to make this about him, about his mental state, so he provides a half truth.

“Been better.” His response is gruff as he quickly moves to change topics. “What about you guys?”

Having his wife have no idea who he is is brutal, but he can’t even begin to imagine what it’s been like for two parents to not have their youngest child recognize them, to have no idea who they are.

Byron Sr. is the first to answer, mirroring his son-in-law’s words. “Been better.”

April shifts in her seat, bringing her hand back to her lap. “We umm—we spoke to Dr. Reynolds earlier today.”

Joe looks up, partially wondering why he wasn’t present for that meeting. “Okay.”

“She doesn’t remember anything, Joe. Not her childhood. Not her family. Not…not even us.” April voice breaks at the end of her statement as Joe looks away. Hearing this again isn’t exactly helpful, though he would never disrespect her parents by asking them to shut up. Even if it’s what he wants. “And we—well, we just think—”

Byron Sr. cuts in, hand on his wife’s knee. “We want to take her back home with us, Joe.” Joe’s stomach drops. “We want to take her back to Florida.”

———-

Spring, 2022

Cameras.

That’s the one thing Mariella, Mari, still struggles to get used to. The bright lights flashing in her face as her photo is taken, whether on the red carpet, on the stage, or even when she’s just making a run to the grocery store. The latter one hasn’t happened as much as it used to, for which she’s grateful, but still.

So there’s a bit of an adjustment as she looks around the room, the hair and makeup team touching up her face once more before they kick off the segment.

She doesn’t regret it. Doesn’t regret it at all. It’s a good look for him. For her too. And beyond any type of benefit for their careers, she’s just happy she gets to see him.

Because that’s the part she doesn’t think she’ll ever truly get over or be okay with.

The distance.

As directed, she walks down the hall, making sure not to look directly into the camera. This is made infinitely easier by pretending she’s shooting a music video. Which, truth be told, it isn’t very different.

Mari wears the confused expression perfectly, looking down at her phone as if it has information that could help her when she ‘accidentally’ walks into him.

Head up, she gasps and immediately gets to apologizing, just as was in the script. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I wasn’t even looking where I was going.”

His eyes widen as he ‘realizes’ who she is. “Wow. No, you are absolutely fine. Wow. You’re Mari!”

Smiling, she points at him, “and you are…..”

He seems a bit taken back at first, like he’s waiting for her to also recognize him. When that doesn’t happen, he offers his hand. “Sami Zayn. Master strategist and locker room leader.”

She nods, perfectly conveying another confused look at just what that means. “Does—does that mean you’re good with directions? Cause I suck at them.”

“It absolutely does, and you are in luck, because I just so happen to be free right now and would love to give you a tour.”

She opens her mouth to protest, “oh, that’s so sweet, but I really should—” she looks down at her phone. “You know what, I’m a little early, so why not?”

“Awesome.” He claps his hands together and offers his arm. Mari smiles and links hers in his as he starts leading them down the hall, pointing out the most obvious of things.

The camera cuts, and she engages in conversation with Sami, who’s actually a lot like the ‘character’ he plays. Super charismatic and engaging. Kinda reminds her of herself. So much so that before she realizes, they’re back to recording after having moved across the arena.

“And lastly we have—” His eyes suddenly widen as he realizes where they are, Sami moving his hand to her back as he directs them in the opposite direction. “Wait, we do not want to go—”

“There it is!” Mari, however, is smiling brightly as she walks toward the door.

Sami looks like he’s about to have a panic attack, frantically warning, “Mari, I know you’re like an international mega star, but trust me, you do not want to bother that man—” He’s silenced by her knocking on the door.

His face is turning red as he urgently whispers to her, “we should really get out of here. Like right now!.”

She turns to him, confused. “Why?”

And before Sami can respond, the door is ripped open, the scowling faces of the Usos the first thing Sami lands on. He’s preparing to get chewed out only for them to look at Mari and instantly start smiling.

“Whassup, Mari!” Jimmy is the first to greet her, pulling her in for a hug. Followed by Jey, the two of them engaging in some secret handshake that ends with a ‘Yeet’.

Sami, however, laughs nervously, gesturing between the three. “Wait, you—you guys know Mari?”

Jimmy answers, slinging his arm around her. “Man, of course. This family!”

“You’re related to them?” Sami asks, eyes wide.

Mari opens her mouth to answer when another person emerges from the private locker room, taking up almost the entire door frame, face stoic and eyes cold.

Sami looks like he’s about to piss himself. He swallows. “My Tribal Chief, I’m so sorry—”

He’s interrupted by Mari who smiles and pulls away from Jimmy to walk up to Roman.“Hi, baby.” Sami looks on stunned as she leans up and kisses his cheek, pressing her body into his, hand on his abs. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.” She grins over at Sami. “Sami was giving me a tour of the place.”

The reddening of his cheeks is about what and what with the red of his hair. “I don’t—I’m not—”

Playfully rolling her eyes as Roman continues to look like he’s contemplating murder, she lifts her left hand, showing off a beautiful diamond ring. “Roman’s my husband.”

Mouth open like a child who just found out Santa isn’t real, Sami does his best to reel in his surprise. “Of course, you’re married. I totally knew that!” He laughs nervously, hands on his hips. “That’s why I gladly brought you to the Tribal Chief myself. Wanted to ensure nothing but the best for the Bloodline’s first lady.”

“That was really sweet of you. Thank you.” She continues to smile, and Roman continues to send daggers with just one, stolid expression. Mari peers up, kissing him again as she reaches for his hand. “Come on.” She tugs him toward the inside of the locker room, Roman finally budging as he gives Sami one last look that has the redhead contemplating requesting a switch to Raw.

However, as Jimmy and Jey go to follow along with their cousin, Roman is quick to slam the door in their faces.

“Hey, Uce, uhhh,—” Jimmy tries to jangle the knob only to realize it’s locked. He starts knocking. “Roman! Hey, you gon let us in?”

A couple seconds later the door does open, but it’s Solo, followed by Paul Heyman. Wise Man closes the door behind him. He looks around, briefly bewildered and clears his throat, announcing, “The Tribal Chief has requested to be left alone this evening.”

Sami is the only one to laugh, playfully shoving Solo and pointing to the locker room. “I bet he has.” Solo, however, also looks like he’s also contemplating murder. Sami coughs awkwardly and turns to walk away, just as the camera crew announces ‘cut’.

The remaining men share laughs about the promo, meanwhile inside the locker room Mariella relishes in the feel of being reunited with her husband in real life, and now in the WWE kayfabe verse.

She’s pressed against his body, arms around his neck with his locked around her waist, holding her to him. “Hey, Big Daddy.”

Roman, Joe, rolls his eyes. Mariella giggles. She knows he has such a love/hate relationship with the term of endearment, one of many she has for the massive man before her. “You miss me?”

He makes a sound, leaning down to connect their lips. “Always, baby.”

She smiles into their kiss, “good answer.” His big hands venture down to squeeze her ass, Mariella moaning into his mouth which triggers something for him. He lifts her up, her legs locking around his waist as he goes to sit back down in the big leather chair. Joe’s tongue entering her mouth is enough to elicit another moan but also alert her to the fact of where he wants to take this.

“Baby, we cannot do the nasty at your job.”

“I don’t know why you still call it that.” His fake irritation makes her giggle. It’s an inside joke between them that she’ll never let die so long as she lives. “And who says we can’t?”

“I don’t know. The FCC?” He rolls his eyes as she grasps at his beard that she can tell he dyed recently. Most likely because of his job. She wishes he could leave it be. She likes the gray. It does….things to her. “Besides, you know the deal. If we do it right now, we can’t do it tonight.” He continues to move his hands across her ass. “Mama’s got a show this Sunday, and I’d rather not be rendered immobile because my husband impaled me on his big ole’ dick.”

Again, Joe rolls his eyes, even though there’s more truth to her statement than the typical playful jokes she cracks at any given time. Joe has a high sex drive. She’s known this for some years. Mariella, however, does not. And it’s not even that she doesn’t enjoy sex with her husband. It’s that her husband doesn’t know how to stop, doesn’t know how to come, make her come one time for the one time, and just be done with it.

No. This man wants rounds. And truthfully, she just doesn’t have the stamina to keep up with him. Outside of porn stars, she doesn’t know who would.

Man is an absolute beast.

“So damn dramatic,” he chuckles against her neck. “You know I be doing most of the work anyway.”

She opens her mouth to protest. “Okay, that may or may not be true.” She can feel him smiling against her. It’s not like he minds. Joe is dominant in the sheets, wanting to be in control at all times. Her preference given he’s much more well versed in the sexual arts than she is. “But, in my defense, you’re built like a Greek god.” A Samoan god. “I get winded walking up the staircase in our house.”

“Bullshit.” He pulls back, pointing out. “You be on that stage dancing your ass off for damn near three hours.”

She rolls her eyes, murmuring, “okay, that also may or may not be true.” Mari’s eyes flutter as he moves his hand under her dress. Long, thick fingers easily pushing aside her underwear, feeling the pool of her arousal. She squeezes his shoulders. “Joe….”

He grunts almost, gliding his fingers across her wet folds. She exhales sharply. “You this wet already and really want me to think you don’t want Big Daddy to fuck this tight lil’ pussy?”

Whining against him, Mariella unconsciously tries to move around on his lap to get his fingers back on her. In her, preferably. And it’s when he enters one of those deliciously talented fingers inside of her gushy opening, she caves. “Fine.” He smirks as she warns, “but you’re pushing me around in the wheelchair after!”

———-

Between a rock and a hard place.

That’s how Joe has felt the past few weeks, maybe even longer. But especially now.

He knows Ri’s parents are right. That they have every right to want her to spend time at home with them, in the place where she grew up, where most of her formative years and subsequent formative memories lie. Logically, it makes sense.

But, he can’t seem to get past his discomfort at the fact that Ri won’t be getting discharged and coming home with him. No, she’ll be discharged and hop on a plane with them back to Florida. Selfishly, he was hoping the doctor wouldn’t clear her to fly, but that plan went out the window. Dr. Reynolds is clearly on the same page with her parents about the potential benefit of being around constant triggers. Triggers that could help generate memories.

And Joe isn’t against that. At all.

It’s just the fact that he won’t be there that rubs him the right way.

“Joe.”

His eyes shut, an instant headache coming on. This is the last thing he needs.

Turning around, he’s met with Olivia “Liv” Holmes default stare of icy indifference. Out of all of Mariella’s siblings, her family in general, Liv has always been his least favorite.

For a lot of different reasons. The main one being how she always treated Mariella when they were younger. Not mean, per se. But not kindly either. She always acted like Mariella was annoying, and she definitely could be at times, but not to the extent that Liv made it seem.

Like Mariella was just this big nuisance. It’s part of the reason she always wanted to hang out with him and Byron when they were growing up, because Liv spent most of her time with her twin sister, Everly, and her own friend group.

“Liv.” He really doesn’t feel like talking to anyone, let alone her. Their interactions have always been brief and limited to what is essential. For good reason too.

“I take it my parents told you we’re taking Ella back home to Florida with us.”

Joe has to bite back a smartass comment. Liv’s smirk and the almost smug tone of her voice isn’t what he needs right now.

“Yes.” He matches her energy a bit, reminding. “For the first couple weeks, at least. Then I’m going to bring her back home with me.”

Where she belongs.

Liv smiles, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “We’ll see.”

Joe gives her a look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know she called me.” He freezes. “The night of the accident.” Joe manages to keep a calm face despite his surprise at her words. Mariella has never been close with Liv, most of their communication occurring via texts and family group chats.

There’s only one reason she would call her sister who happens to be a divorce attorney.

“I want a divorce.”

Liv continuing to speak is ironically appreciated, as it pulls him from the memories of what is now an infamous argument. “I was sleeping and missed her call, but she didn’t leave a message. Kinda wishing she did, because I’m still trying to figure out just what the hell she was doing out on the road that late at night.”

He keeps his cool. Somehow. “I already told you—”

“I know what you said, Joe.” Her interruption is sharp. “I also don’t believe you, because what the hell could she have so heavy on her mind after winning 5 Grammys?” She crosses her arms. “It doesn’t make sense.”

When he doesn’t say anything, she continues her accusatory assault. “You seem to forget that we were in high school together, Joe. I know how you were.” At this, he can’t say anything, can’t necessarily defend himself against truth. “You and Byron fucked damn near half the girls in our school, probably at college too, and then all of a sudden you turn in your hoe card to be with my baby sister? Because you love her? I never bought that shit for a minute.”

While he can’t deny his promiscuous past, Joe isn’t about to stand here and let this woman act like he’s this horrible person who took advantage of Mariella. “What’s your point, Liv? Huh? I’m not fucking stupid. I know you never approved of me being with Ri, but just like I didn’t give a fuck then, I still don’t give a fuck now.”

Liv does relatively well hiding her disapproval among her family, to some extent. But Joe has always been hip to her truth. She thinks Mariella should have gotten with someone else, anyone else probably. Anyone who wasn’t him.

Liv, who has never done well with being challenged, steps forward, glare intense and purposeful. “I’m gonna find out what happened that night, Joe. Because I know there’s something you’re not telling us.” He keeps up his unreadable expression, though there’s a small chunk of guilt swimming around the back of his head. Not even about not being completely honest with Mariella’s family.

More about not being honest with her.

She lowers her voice. “And when I do find out—”

“Liv.”

Joe and Liv turn to see Byron Jr. standing before them with a disappointed expression.

Arms crossed, he steps toward them, focused more on Liv than Joe. “Don’t be starting no shit today, alright? This the last thing we need.”

In recent years, especially since becoming a father, BJ has matured from his hotheaded days, often even a voice of reason. One of the reasons he’s been voted Locker Room captain for his team, the 49ers, 3 years in a row.

Liv rolls her eyes. “You’ve always been blinded by your friendship with him—”

“Hey.” Byron raises his voice a bit. “I mean it. You blaming people doesn’t change what happened, and you know damn well Ella would have a fit at you coming at Joe like this.”

Not really. Maybe before. Before everything collapsed so tragically between the two of them.

“Whatever.” She gives a final almost warning glare to the two of them before stalking off, probably to go see Mariella.

BJ places a comforting hand on Joe’s shoulder once she’s gone. “You good, man?”

Not at all. “Yeah.” He clears his throat.

BJ gives a sad smile. “Don’t let Olevil get to you.” Her nickname from back when they were in high school makes Joe chuckle. “You going back to work next week?”

Joe blows out a breath. That hasn’t even crossed his mind the past couple weeks. He doesn’t even really know what storyline they came up with to cover his absence. Nor does he care really. “I haven’t even thought about that, man.”

“I think you should.” And before Joe can protest, Byron lifts his hand. “Hear me out. She’s gonna be with our parents for a few weeks, so you know she’ll be in good hands. What you gon’ do while she’s gone? Sit around the house sad and moping and shit? You know she would be chewing you out for that, telling you that you gotta get back in the game.”

Joe gives a bit of a smile. Byron is right. Knowing Mariella, she’d have a whole theatrical ass presentation as to why he should return to work, song and dance included.

“Yeah…”

Byron slaps him on his shoulder. “Just think about it, alright?”

Joe nods, because he will. And not for himself, not even for his job, because he doesn’t give a fuck about that right now.

But for Mariella.

His Ri.

Because she’ll always be his Ri.

And he’s determined to make sure she doesn’t forget it this time.

———-

Spring, 2022 [cont.]

“Baby!” It’s a distant voice that becomes closer as it's repeatedly conjoined with a small hand shaking at his shoulder. “Baby, wake up.”

And he does. Eyes fluttering open, his vision is blurred initially, gradually clearing up to reveal the face of his beautiful wife. Cognizant of his surroundings, Joe realizes she’s sitting on top of him, notebook and pen in hand.

He smiles. It’s been a while since she’s woken him up for this. And while he’ll regret it in the morning, he’s grateful for it now. Grateful for these little callbacks to when they were broke, living in a crappy apartment, trying to chase the dream as inspiration struck her at all hours of the night. And she would wake him up, wanting his feedback.

He didn’t really mind then.

And he doesn’t really mind now.

That’s just his Ri.

Eyes squinting, she asks, “you up?”

He chuckles, also enjoying the sight of her straddling him wearing only his shirt. “Yes, baby. I’m up.”

“About time,” she complains, and he rolls his eyes. So damn dramatic. “I’m feeling inspired.” She says it while giving almost jazz hands, pretty brown eyes landing back on him. “Wanna hear the lyrics?”

He yawns, glancing at the digital clock that reads 2:37AM. “What else would I be doing at this time?”

She glares. “Is that sarcasm I detect, mister? Is it my fault my musical muse comes alive at night? That she flourishes when most—”

“Ri.”

“Huh?”

He closes his eyes. Joe loves Mariella with everything in him, but he’s not in the mood for one of her theatrical tangents at damn near 3 o’clock in the morning. “Lyrics.”

“Oh! Right!” Chuckling, he watches as she reads over whatever she’s written to herself at first. A bit of a habit. She’s always initially self-conscious about her lyrics. “Now, it’s just off the top of my head, so be nice, okay?”

“I’m always nice to you, Ri.” It’s the truth. As annoyed as he can get sometimes, she’s never been on that list. “And I’m sure it’s fine.”

She smiles appreciatively, slightly taking him by surprise as she quietly sings the lyrics versus just reading them to him.

Yellow diamonds in the light

Now we're standing side by side

As your shadow crosses mine

What it takes to come alive

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny

But I've gotta let it go

We found love in a hopeless place

Finished, she looks down at him, expectantly, “well?”

“I love it.” He loves most of what she writes though. He especially loves to hear her sing. “What inspired it?”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking about us. About how far we come.” She shrugs, his hands rubbing circles on her hips. “Your show was sold out tonight, Joe. Mine is sold out too. Like, we both sold out Madison Square Garden. That feels almost too perfect to be true.”

He makes a sound. “But, it is, baby.”

“I know.” She sighs heavily and asks in a partial hypothetical tone. “We’re like really hot shit, huh?” Joe chuckles as she gasps and places her tablet down on his chest, quickly writing something down. He says nothing, having been with her for so long that none of her quirky ways really surprise him anymore.

“Also.”

“Also?”

She glares but moves to place the notebook and pen on the nightstand, resting her hands on his chest. “I was thinking about our conversation earlier…” He’s quiet, waiting patiently for her to finish her sentence even if it does have him a bit on edge. He’s never been good with waiting. “Let’s do it.”

Her answer takes him by surprise. “You sure?”

She nods, tugging at his beard. “We’re not getting any younger.” She giggles, eyes playfully narrowing. “Especially you, old man.”

At that, he sucks his teeth. “Who you calling old?” He squeezes her side, and she squeals. He knows that’s where she’s ticklish. She falls out, laughing, and he takes the advantage of her being distracted to flip them so she’s flat on her back. “Naw, say it again. I ain’t hear you.”

“Joe, stop,” she giggles as he hovers over her, tickling her until she pushes back against his shoulder. He grabs her hand, restricting her when she opens her eyes. Her laughter quietly dies down when their eyes lock.

Love.

So much love.

Joe leans down and connects their lips, softly, slowly, just as meaningful as any other kiss they’ve shared. She moans into his mouth, feeling his hardened length graze against her opening, her essence already making its way down her inner thighs.

He feels this too, groaning and lifting her thigh to widen her as he carefully enters her, watching her arch her back at the entrance. She whimpers, hands moving around his shoulders.

He kisses her wrist, watching the pleasure on her face as he gives her deep strokes, slow and plunging, just how he knows she likes it. “Shhhh….let me take care of you, baby.”

And he does.

He always has.

He always will.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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joeyb1989 · 2 months

Text

but daddy i love him* - joe burrow

word count: 2.6k

pairing: joe burrow x kelce!sister reader

warnings: smut, arguments, disapproval of relationship, cussing, angst(?), pet names, mentions of pregnancy

a/n: another joe fic inspired by a taylor song (is anyone surprised at this point.) this was my first time writing smut, so i’m sorry if it’s bad😭😭 anyways, hope you all enjoy 💗

This fic takes place in the offseason after the 22-23 season !!

——

“No Mom, he’s picking me up from the airport. He’s too much of a gentleman to make me call an Uber.”

You were standing in the middle of your bedroom, last-minute packing for your trip to Cincinnati tomorrow when your mom called you for your daily debrief with her.

“You’re being safe though,” your mom began, “right, Y/n?”

“Yes Mom, Joe’s a very safe driver,” you soothe

“I’m not worried about his driving honey,” she paused, hoping you would understand what she meant, “I mean with… certain… activities.”

“Oh my god, Mom. Yes, yes we’re being safe,” your cheeks heated up in embarrassment

“You should invite Joe to the cookout we’re having next weekend, you know everyone would love to meet him,” your mom suggested.

Not everyone.

“I’d love for everyone to meet him too, it’s just… you know how Travis acted when I told him about Joe,” you mumbled, “And that’s just when I told him, can you imagine when he has to come face to face with him?”

Flashback to Kelce family dinner a few months ago

“So, Y/n sweetheart,” your dad started, “What’s new with you?”

After the season was over, your parents made it apparent that they wanted to throw a family dinner. Especially after the high emotions that the Super Bowl brought to the family. With the different schedules, it was about two months into the offseason by the time you all got around to it.

“Um, well… I’ve been seeing a guy for a little bit now,” you said, cheeks turning pink

“Jason, would you listen to that, some guy stole our little sister’s heart,” Travis teased

“How long have you been seeing him,” your mom asked

“Coming up on about four and half months,” you gushed, “He’s very sweet, kind, and humble.”

“Well… why don’t you tell us about this lucky guy,” your other brother, Jason, asked.

“His name is Joe, and he… works in Cincinnati. Sometimes he travels for it,” you mumble

“He’s not a drug dealer…is he, honey,” your mom worriedly asked

“No, God no. It’s.. just hard to explain…” you trailed off

As soon as you were about to explain everything to your family, with hopes of your brothers not flipping out, your phone lit up.

Your phone was laying face-up on the table when you got a call from the contact name, “joe shiesty 💗”

As soon as you had time to process what was happening, Joe hung up and sent you a text, apologizing for butt-dialing you.

“Sorry… so umm, where was I-”

Travis cut you off, “Joe Burrow… Y/n, are you kidding?”

Your mouth slightly dropped open as your brows furrow. “How do you know?”

“You’re dating some guy named Joe, works in Cincinnati but ‘travels for work sometimes’, and his contact is ‘Joe Shiesty,’” Travis fake laughs, “It’s kinda obvious.”

You were honestly scared for how Travis was going to react. You cared about Joe a lot and really wanted to be in with him for the long run, even if you two had only been dating for four months.

“Do you realize that the Bengals have put us through hell for the last year?” Travis asked, “Had you forgotten all about that Y/n?”

The truth is, you had forgotten all about the Bengals and Chiefs rivalry when you started dating Joe. You forgot how the Chiefs won the West division and were the favorite to play in the Super Bowl that year, until the Bengals came along.

Even though you were cheering for Kansas City, you couldn’t lie that what Joe Burrow had done in his first full season in the NFL wasn’t impressive.

You thought that Travis would realize that all the stuff on the field was solely just football and move on.

“Travis, it was a football game. It’s his job as much as it is yours to win for his team,” You replied

Travis just shook his head. “And all that shit… calling Arrowhead, ‘Burrowhead.’”

“That wasn’t him,” you began to grow agitated at how stupid this argument was, “It was his team, and he’s going to go along with his team.”

“Why are you defending him like this?” Travis asked, looking directly into your eyes

“Because I…love him, Travis, and I just want you of all people to be happy for me,” you blurt out, “You don’t even know him, but here you are ruining my relationship with him over a football game.”

The only thing Travis did in response was scoff before muttering an ‘unbelievable’ under his breath while walking to his old room and slamming the door.

End of flashback

“Honey, you need to calm down,” your mom said, “I’ve never seen you happier, Y/n. Your brother just doesn’t want to see you get hurt. Maybe it will be better after we all sit down for dinner together.”

Deep down, you knew your mom was right. You loved your brother more than anything, but you also loved Joe more than anything. You knew that if you and Joe were to work out, and God did you want it to, then you needed to introduce him to your family; including Travis.

“I’m gonna go, Mom. I have to get ready for bed if I want to make my flight tomorrow,” You laughed, “I’ll talk to Joe about the cookout and let you know”

After you and your mom said your goodbyes, you climb into bed, excited to see your boyfriend in just a few hours.

The next day

After collecting your luggage at baggage claim, you see a large tall frame with sunglasses on and his head down.

As soon as he saw a someone walking toward him, he looked up to see his girlfriend walking towards him with the biggest smile on your face.

He stood up and met you halfway.

“There’s my girl,” he said softly, while picking you up and twirling you around.

After he set you on the ground, he set a sweet, gentle, but passionate kiss on your lips, resting his forehead on yours when you pull away. “I missed you so much, baby,” you said, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Joe kissed your forehead, “Let’s go home.”

You weren’t living with Joe yet, but he made sure that you felt at-home when you were in his house; even though you feel at-home when you’re simply with him.

Later that day

After cuddling and taking a nap together, you and Joe were exchanging small talk while eating over a candlelit dinner.

“Babe, would you want to go back to Kansas City with me next weekend,” you ask, “My family’s throwing a cookout, and they want to meet this boyfriend they keep hearing about,” you tease

“I’d love to, baby,” Joe smiled and lifted your hand up to his mouth, giving it a kiss.

“There’s just… one thing,” you break eye contact with him.

“What is it?” Joe asked, putting a finger under your chin to lift your gaze back to his

“Travis… isn’t… the biggest fan of us… or you,” you admit between pauses.

Joe furrowed his brows, “Did I do something to him?”

“No, no you didn’t. That’s the point. He’s being over-dramatic about everything. He says that your name is going to bring down my rep, and that you’re ’going to be a bad influence on me,’ you say, “But, even if he was right, I don’t care. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. If anyone were to bring down my rep, I’d want it to be you,” you pressed a bunch of kisses to his face.

“I’m sorry though, I hate to know I’m the reason you and Travis are having problems,” Joe said, “but you make me the happiest man alive, sweetheart.”

“You didn’t do anything, baby,” you take his face in both of your hands and press a kiss to his soft lips.

The kiss starts off innocent, but quickly heats up. Before you know it, you two were making out in his dining room.

While he was kissing down your neck, he lifted you off of your seat and pulled you into his lap. He moved his hands down to your hips and began to grind you against him.

“Joey,” you whimpered, “please.”

“Please what, baby?” Joe asked with a big smirk on his face

“Touch me,” you whispered against his ear

Joe’s eyes grew with even more lust and love, if that was even possible.

He pushed the plates on the table out of the way, before lifting you onto it. He unzipped your pants and brought them down.

He ghosted his fingers over your lace-covered clit, groaning low in his throat. “So wet baby,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He hooked a finger in your panties, bringing them down.

He brought your leg up to his shoulder, kissing up until he reached your core, then repeating the action on the other leg.

“Stop teasing Joe,” you said

Listening to you, he immediately attached his lips to your clit, sucking on it. Your fingers were intertwined with his blonde strands, pulling on them while moans escaped your lips.

After a few minutes of eating you out like you were his last meal, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to release. “Joe, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

“Joe,” you moaned, as he inserted two fingers into your dripping core.

“Come on baby, I’ve got you,” Joe said

Only a few seconds later, you were cumming on his face while he worked you through your orgasm.

He stood up and lifted his fingers to his mouth, cleaning off your juices. He leaned down and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. “I love you,” Joe said against your lips.

“I love you more,” you smiled.

“How much more?” Joe asked with a smirk

“How ‘bout I show you?” you purred

A few hours later

After a few more rounds of sex, you and Joe were in his bathtub, relaxing together after not seeing one another for a couple weeks.

“Y/n?” Joe asked

You hummed in response

“What do you say to Travis when he brings me up?” Joe bashfully asked

“Well the other day, I was talking to my mom about the necklace you got me for my birthday, and Travis said some snarky comment. He said something about our relationship and how you um,” you paused, “lost the championship to them.”

“It really pissed me off and I was really thinking, so I said ‘Yeah I’m having his baby, actually,” you laugh, “You should’ve seen everyone’s faces,”

Joe busted to a fit of laughter, before trailing kisses on your collarbone.

“I really hope you told them otherwise, because if Travis already hates me, I’d hate to know what he would think if I got you pregnant,” Joe laughs against your skin

“Boy, there would be a whole search party after you if I didn’t,” You giggle

“You know Travis isn’t the only one that thinks I’m crazy for going out with you,” you laugh, “Some of the women in my mom’s book club told her that they’ve been praying for me at their church.”

“What is it about me that makes people think that I’m a bad influence,” Joe asked

“I don’t know… I would literally rather burn my life down, then listen to all this bitching and moaning. If they ever get the chance to know you, though, they’ll see how you’re different from how people perceive you.”

“How am I different?”

“You’re compassionate, driven, sweet, and a total dork, but I love you for it,” you joke, “But most of all,” you turn to face him, “you made me fall for you, even after I had put up a wall. You’re the man who shows me true, unconditional love, that I never thought I deserved to have.”

“You deserve it all, Y/n,” Joe kissed you, “I love you,”

“I love you,” you smile against his lips.

The next weekend

Joe squeezes your hand three times as the Uber pulls into your parent’s driveway. You knew Joe would be nervous, but you didn’t expect him to be this nervous. You honestly felt bad for bringing him here.

“You’re going to be okay, Joe,” you soothe, “Travis will get over his little fit, and the other guys are all football guys, you’ll get along well. Plus, they’ll see you as the guy who makes me incredibly happy.”

Joe offered you a smile and a short kiss before getting out and opening the door for you. Joe got your luggage out of the car and thanked the driver.

Before you could even knock on the door, your mom opens it and pulls you into a hug.

“I missed you too, Mom,” you joke as you pull away, “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Joe,” you smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Kelce,” Joe said

“Honey, you can call me Donna, but it’s nice to meet you, Joe. We’ve heard a lot about you,” Your and Joe’s cheeks both heated up at your mom’s words

Walking into the house, your mom tells you two to go get settled in your old room while your dad and brother’s are out grilling.

After a little bit, you and Joe decide to go outside. You two make it to the back door hand-in-hand, before you turn and kiss Joe on the cheek

“You’re okay, they’re going to love you,” you smile, opening the door.

You clear your throat to get everyone’s attention

“Guys, this is my boyfriend, Joe; even though some of you already know him,” you joke towards your brothers.

Your dad walks up to both of you, extending his arm out to him “It’s nice to meet you,son.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Joe shakes his hand.

“It’s good to see you, Joe,” Jason gives Joe a bro-hug after walking up to the two of you

Travis looks at both of you with bullets in his eyes, walking over to Joe.

“I’m sure Y/n here has told you all about my disapproval of your relationship,” Travis began.

Here we go, you thought

“I just want to say I’m sorry,” he looks at you, “to both of you. I was just so caught up in the past, I couldn’t see that you make my baby sister happy, in a way that I’ve never seen before. So, what’s past is past… fuck it, it’s over.”

Travis also gave Joe a bro-hug before walking over and giving you a hug as well.

After eating, and your family getting to know your boyfriend, you and Joe were swaying to the music that was playing. You two were farther away in the yard to talk and no one would hear you.

“You look really beautiful in this dress,” Joe said, playing with the hem of your sundress, “The way the sun is hitting you is making you look like a goddess, baby.”

“Thank you, Joey,” you smile, “My dad really loves you by the way.”

“Really?” Joe asked

“Mhm, when we were in the kitchen, all he could talk about was what a bright young man you are,” you smile

You look up to be met with a very gorgeous sky

“The clouds look so pretty, Joe! Take a picture,” you beg

Joe reaches for his phone, but says, “You’re so pretty,” while snapping the picture“You’re crazy,” you joke, “but you’re the crazy I want.”

Joe leans down and presses a kiss to your soft lips.

Time really does give perspective. All of your family loves Joe, almost as much as you love him.

Now that your family approves, there’s nothing from stopping you from having this wild boy and this wild joy, forever.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #Spotify

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy: Six Months Timestamp

Summary: Dean has retired from the NFL and has been enjoying his downtime with the reader. While she and Eric want to make sure he's safe, Sam and Max need to figure out what they want to do with their lives going forward...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 2,500ish

Warnings: language, very brief mentions of smut

A/N: This timestamp takes place ~ six months after the end of the original series. Please enjoy!

_______

“Hey, wait a second-” you heard Dean say behind you before he let out a loud groan. You turned off the treadmill and hopped off the back, catching your breath while you took in the scene before you.

Dean was on his stomach, hands behind his back in a pair of zip ties as Eric straddled him and ruffled his hair.

“Watch and learn, kiddo,” he said, pulling Dean up by his shirt collar so he was sitting. “You’re thinking too much. Y/N? She’s been running for over an hour. Watch what she does.”

Eric waved you over away from the workout equipment. You ditched your headphones along the way, still breathing hard when Eric tossed a pair of zip ties at you.

“We’re playing Catch. Go.” Eric moved fast towards you, faster than any man in his forties had a right to be. You watched his footwork and dodged to the left, swing your leg out as he missed you and connecting with the back of his knee. He went down on the padded floor and you flew yourself on top of him, wedging your knee between his shoulder blades and using your own weight to sit on top of him. It was uncomfortable for him, painful if you really wanted to hurt him and put down more pressure. But you weren’t meant to stay here for long as he could get back up if he really tried.

No, you grabbed the back of his neck as you moved your knee to his side and when he instinctually shot his arm up to grab your wrist, you jabbed your fingers right into his armpit. It made his body jerk at the odd sensation and his hand slip, allowing you to force his wrist through one loop and tighten. Once you had it, you used the other loop to force his arm back and then with a carefully aimed jab just under the rib cage, he tensed again and you had both hands secured.

You rolled off him with a hard pant, Eric wincing a bit as he sat up. “You weren’t meant to win you little asshole.”

“Shouldn’t have trained me so good then,” you said, giving him a thumbs up. You got to your hands and knees, sitting back to stretch your legs as Eric got himself up and over to the wall where he had a pair of scissors.

“How the hell did you do that?” said Dean, Eric cutting himself free and then Dean. “You were literally doing sprints three minutes ago.”

“I think Eric’s point is it isn’t always physical,” you said, Eric offering Dean a towel to wipe up his sweat with. “We have to always be prepared, even if we’re exhausted. I’m sorry babe but he’s right, you do think too much when he’s teaching you moves. I was the same way at first. Now nearly a decade later look at me. You’ll get there.”

“To be fair, we’ve only been doing this stuff six months and you got the basics down good,” said Eric. An alarm on his watch pinged and he started to head out. “I’ll see you guys later. Y/N, we’ll head out a four.”

“Have fun at therapy,” you said, Eric rolling his eyes but smiling as he jogged down the hall to catch a quick shower. You turned to Dean who was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. “How do doing down there? Eric didn’t hurt anything?”

“Only my pride,” he sighed. You crawled over beside him, laying back so your head rested on his chest. “I can’t get any of this advanced crap. If anyone tries to bother you it’s not going to be some minor thing. It’ll be planned and-”

“And you didn’t start out throwing bombs down the field, knowing which play to run when. It’s just like football. You get the basics down and you build off of them. Sure, I know a lot now but I didn’t know the basics for two years. I still depend on Eric and Sloane and the team to keep us safe. It’s their job to protect us.”

“I know. Sometimes I worry though that I can’t protect you if it came down to it.” You laughed, Dean sitting up and sending you sliding down to his lap. He frowned at you. “Why’s that funny? I don’t know these moves. I couldn’t protect you back at that party. I’m not-”

“You stepped in front of me at that party when we found Sam and Max. You always walk between me and the street and switch sides if we go by an alley. You do so many little things that make me feel protected, Dean. Let the rest of them be the super soldiers. But you? I know if shit got real, you’re the most dangerous one of them all. You’re the one I want.” He pondered that for a moment, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “I know you got me.”

“Yes, I do,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

“I love you.” You sat up, Dean’s arms pulling you into a hug. “Are you nervous about tonight?”

“A bit. I’m looking forward to it though. Are you excited to have the boys at a concert for the first time?” You hummed.

“Yeah, just keep an eye on them. I don’t want anyone with a VIP pass being weird to them. They haven’t been out in public much and those reporters are still hounding them.”

“I’ll ask my boys to watch their backs too,” said Dean, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “We ought to wash up. They should be getting out school soon.”

“Only if we can share,” you said, Dean chuckling before picking you up bridal style.

“Oh, I was planning on it.”

Thirty Minutes Later

“Hey Sammy,” you said from the kitchen, eating the late lunch Dean had prepared for you. Sam was smiling more than usual and you quirked an eyebrow. “Good day?”

“Amazing fucking day,” he said, taking off his backpack and pulling out a paper. Dean leaned over from across the island, Sam sliding it over. “I passed high school. Not even just my GED but I like passed it passed it. I’m gonna get a diploma and everything.”

“That’s awesome, Sammy,” said Dean, throwing his arm over Sam’s shoulders and hugging him tight. “You’ve always been such a nerd.”

You slipped away with your plate when noticed Max was on the back patio and hadn’t come inside yet.

“How was school?” you asked, taking a seat next to him at the patio table. He shrugged, slouching down. You offered him the other half of your sandwich, Max taking it after a beat. “Can I be brutally honest with you?”

“About…” he said with his mouth full, eating far too quickly. You pursed your lips, breathing slowly. “What?”

“Sam got his diploma because he was abducted with only a few months of high school left. You had years. You’re going to get your GED and that’s that.” Max frowned, crossing his arms before looking away. “You can go to college with a GED you know.”

“I know that,” he muttered. You hummed, leaning your head back.

“So stop comparing yourself to Sam. I am just as proud of you for working on that GED as I am of him for his diploma. We all are. Max…I don’t give a shit if you have straight A’s or what you want your education to look like. You’re twenty eight years old. You get to pick what you want.”

“He’s always been smarter than me. He came up with the plan to-”

“Bullshit. Don’t act like a fucking brat.” He turned in his seat, angry and wide eyes meeting yours. “Sam was seventeen when he was grabbed. You were fucking fourteen. You said you didn’t meet Sam until you were seventeen. Three years you were on your own. You survived as a fucking kid on your own. I know every goddamn awful fact about trafficking children so I know you were fucking smart to make it on your own. Don’t you ever down-play your intelligence, do you understand me? You’re going to be whatever the fuck you want to in life because any kid that survives that can do anything he wants to. Now sulk how you need to and then go congratulate Sam because your brother just got his diploma and families celebrate that shit.”

You grabbed the plate and stood, halfway across the patio when Max cleared his throat.

“Y/N.” You looked over you shoulder and sighed. He shrugged, a weird smile on his face. “Thanks. You and Dean, even Eric and Sloane, but you guys don’t baby us. I’m glad you’re still my sister.”

“Well I sure as shit ain’t your mom,” you said, Max laughing quietly. You nodded towards the door, Max taking his bag and walking over. “Let’s get a proper lunch before we head out, alright?”

Later That Night

“So you think the fans liked the show?” asked Dean around eleven. The house was much louder than you were used to after performances at the Wolves stadium. Someone had soft rock music playing through a bluetooth speaker on the patio. Half of the LA Wolves football team and their significant others were outside along with a few of his former coaches. Dean’s parents and Benny’s extended family. Eric and Sloane were talking in hushed tones in the kitchen with not an inch of space between them. Sam and Max were even talking to a few girls they’d met, younger sisters of a few of the players.

You rolled your eyes, laughing when Dean pulled you against his chest. “Based on the screams I’d say that all thought it was so lame when you came out to do your god awful dancing.”

“Um, excuse me but your choreographer said I was amazing,” scoffed Dean. You patted his arm, Dean pouting. “Was I really that bad?”

“You were great. That was for us anyways,” you said, both of your turning your heads when you heard a crash in the kitchen. Sloane was trying to pick up the mcdonalds boxes full of chicken nuggets off the ground while Eric held her waist, the pair of them giggling. “Can y’all keep it in your pants in public?”

“It was an accident,” said Eric with a shrug and smile that you recognized far too much these days.

“Go get horny in your bedroom,” you said, pointing at the stairs.

“Well if the boss says so,” said Eric, Sloane yelping when he picked her up, smacking his chest lightly. “What’d I do? You started it.”

“You’re such a liar,” she huffed, Eric humming as he waved goodnight. “Remember to-”

“Set the alarm,” said Dean. “Remember to wrap it up, old timer.”

Eric flipped him the bird as he headed up the stairs, mumbling something you couldn’t quite catch before they were gone.

“So those two are totally trying for a kid, right?” asked Dean.

“Oh, absolutely. The wedding is in three months and I’ve already seen Eric reading articles about first time parenting.” Dean smirked, your finger going up. “We. Are. Not. Ready.”

“I know. But maybe in a few years we will be. Let their rugrat have a little cousin with our rugrat.” Dean took your hand, pulling your tattooed wrist to his lips, kissing it gently. “After our own wedding of course.”

“I’d like that…eventually,” you yawned, Dean brushing your hair behind your ear. “I’m alright. Just a bit tired.”

“You want to head up to bed? The boys and my folks can make sure everyone’s taken care of.”

“You sure?” you asked, Dean humming. “They have fun tonight?”

“I’m not sure you have bigger fans than those two,” he said, chuckling when one of your songs filtered in from outside. “Sam’s decided to do pre-law at Stanford in the fall. Apparently being famous helps you get into an Ivy League school late.”

“Good for him,” you said. “I don’t think Max is ready for college though.”

“It’ll be good for the boys to get some space. Max mentioned taking his GED maybe next month and then maybe technical school in the new year, work on cars with my uncle Bobby once he gets done.” You raised your eyebrows, smiling to yourself. “I may have had a chat with him while you were in rehearsals.”

“He needed it. He doesn’t have to go to school and honestly, in a garage he can just blend in and be a normal guy which is what he wants.” You let out another yawn, shaking your head. “Are you excited to start your work soon?”

“Yeah. Nervous but excited. I know some people think I should have taken a higher level-”

“Dean.” He met your gaze, taking a deep breath. “You had over three hundred job offers. Literally. If you’d wanted a pro or collegiate job, you would have taken it. If coaching a losing high school team is what makes you happy, then you’re going to do that.”

“I still don’t think they believed me when I said my goal was to get these kids to state within three years.”

“Oh that’s because they bet you’ll do it in one,” you teased, leaning your head against his chest.

“Come on, Princess of Pop,” said Dean, picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Hey guys,” said Sam, walking in with Max on his tail. “These girls invited us to go out to a bar with them. Is it cool if we go? Benny and Michael said they’d come with.”

“You’re adults, you don’t need to ask,” you said with a smile. “Just take a few guys for security with you. And watch your drinks. And practice safe sex if you-”

“And goodnight,” said Sam, heading back outside with a groan. Dean laughed as he headed for the stairs, his chest rumbling against yours.

“I just want them to be safe,” you said, Dean patting your back.

“I know, I know. They’re smart. S’good they want to go out, stretch their legs on their own. It means what we’re doing is working.”

“I guess it is,” you said, nuzzling into his neck with another yawn. “God. I can’t believe I toured non-stop for most of last year. How the hell did I do that?”

“You were just a wee bit exhausted,” said Dean as he reached the top of the stairs. “Let’s get you to bed so you can do it all over tomorrow night.”

“You know what I would kill for?” you asked. Dean kissed your temple, giving your body a big squeeze.

“One foot massage coming right up.”

“Thank you,” you murmured into his skin, Dean setting you down on your soft bedding.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

___________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester au #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader

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strawberryspence · 1 year

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inspired by the recent events (think of a singer and football player) and ofc, inspired by the brilliant, @henderdads, who has graciously allowed me to make this into a whole thing. 👀

check out the original post!

*i don’t know ANYTHING about the NFL, so sorry for the obvious mistakes*

”What do you mean?” Steve looks up from tying his shoelaces, and stares at his agent.

“Harrington, how many times do I have to say this?” Robin smirks at him, “He’s here. He’s sitting with Mama Joyce.”

Steve’s 100% sure a wire short circuits in his brain. He blinks rapidly at her before asking once again.

“Eddie Munson?”

Robin hums, “Ahuh.”

“Like the 12 time Grammy winner, Eddie Munson, from Corroded Coffin?”

Robin slaps a hand on her forehead, “Yes, Steve! Eddie Munson is in the stadium right now. You’re the one who asked me to arrange his seats.”

Steve jumps from the wooden benches, “I didn’t think he would come!”

Robin crosses her arms, “First of all, you were the one who made that bracelet with your number on it—“

“I WAS DRUNK!”

Robin puts up a finger, “You weren’t drunk when you brought it to his concert and asked Lucas Sinclair to hand it to him. You also weren’t drunk when you announced it on a podcast, when it could’ve been a secret for all of us to keep. Second of all, you whined and annoyed me until I finally caved in, called his publicist to finally arrange the whole thing and the thanks I get is more whining?!”

Oh no. Steve stares at her, as all of the things she said finally sinks in. Oh no. Eddie Munson is in the crowd. He came. Steve asked and Eddie came. He’s gonna watch Steve Harrington play. Weirdly, he wonders if this is what Eddie feels when he’s about to play sold out arenas. Steve’s never felt nervous to play, the field is— well— his comfort place and not once has he had this sense of dread to play. Not even when he had to play the Super Bowl.

"I didn't think he'd come!" Steve panics.

“Uh-oh. No time for panic attacks. The game starts in about 15 minutes.”

“Oh my god.” Steve groans as she pushes him out of the locker rooms to the halls. There’s TVs in every corner, and one TV catches his attention.

There he is.

Eddie Munson’s sitting beside his adoptive mother and his siblings. Dear God. In what world is this real?

The commentator squeals in delight as he broadcasts, “Here’s one for the books, one that’s surely going to break the internet tonight. In the crowd tonight, we have the lead singer of best selling metal group, Eddie Munson. The rumors are apparently true! Harrington and Munson are definitely friends, maybe even more?”

Steve groans as Sinclair moves pass him, bumping shoulders. A huge smirk on his face, “I didn’t think you could do it, but I have to say, I am very proud of you.”

”Leave me alone.” He sulks as Lucas walks down the hall laughing his head off.

When Steve started talking to Eddie, he never really thought he’d end up here. Did he want something serious with Eddie? Well, yes. He’s been crushing on the man since he realized he was bisexual and Eddie was already the cover of the Seventeen magazine for nth time. But Eddie was a superstar singer who’s still on a world tour that has already sold billions, so no, Steve didn’t expect him to be here. He also knows that Eddie just got out of a pretty public break-up, so he didn’t expect anything but friendship. He just— shoot his shot and prayed to the Gods.

Steve thinks back to the conversation they had a few nights ago. A conversation only possible through the help of prayer and two shots of vodka.

“You wanna go out this Sunday?” Steve asks, trying his best to keep the nerves under the wraps.

“Isn’t that the day of the game?” Eddie speaks over the phone and Steve still can’t fathom the fact that he’s talking to Eddie Munson on a regular Wednesday night.

“Yeah, I mean. We can go out after the game.” Steve gulps, and he feels the need to take another shot.

”Huh.” Eddie hums, “Would that be a date, Harrington?”

“Yes.” Steve lightly bangs his head on the wall, “I mean, if you want it to be.” Steve covers his mouth to muffle the embarrassing sounds that comes out from him. What a wuss.

“Here, let’s play a fun little game. Let’s wait till Sunday.” Steve can hear the smirk in his voice, and god, Steve will have to look up the damn “Eddie Munson smirks for 10 minutes” compilation on Youtube again.

”What do you mean?”

“I’ll think about it. On Sunday, if I’m in the crowd then maybe we can get some dinner. If I’m not, then maybe next time.” There’s a playfulness in his voice that makes Steve want to tear his hair out.

Steve gnaws at his lips, that sounds easy enough, “Okay. That sounds… easy.”

Eddie laughs. It’s music to Steve’s ears and he feels pathetic, “Not so easy, big boy. If I’m there, you have to get a touchdown and then it’s a date. If not, then we hang out with your siblings. They’re pretty cool.”

Steve stares at the wall in his room, there’s maybe 50% chance he’ll get a touchdown. He could talk to Sinclair and McKinney to get him the ball. He could do it. It’s just another touchdown. He’s done—what?— like 50 touchdowns in his life.

”Okay.” Steve gulps, “Let’s do it.”

“HARRINGTON!” Steve blinks back to the present, lifting his eyes away from the picture of Eddie Munson wearing the red windbreaker representing his team.

Hopper’s calling him over, a smirk clear on his face. Why is everyone fucking smirking at him? “I see you’re distracted. I hope this doesn’t cripple your ability to play.”

”Hop!” Steve groans, only for his coach to laugh and pat him in the back.

“Go on! Line up!” Hop smiles, winking at him, “Good luck out there.”

Steve puts on his helmet, before taking a few deep breathes.

He just needs a touchdown. One touchdown.

Steve smiles.

He’d do anything for Eddie Munson.

A touchdown is nothing.

#okay so again i dont know anything about nfl and football #i will write more after i finish this three hour long video about football #thank you cass for allowing me to write this #i love you from the bottom of my heart #this are the only worms i have right now #steddie #dae writes #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie rants #steddie headcanon #daeheadcanons #steddie famous au #steddie fanfic

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johnnytoronto · 11 months

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Next week is eagles vs cowboys and bengals vs bills?

#The nfl has finally decided to get serious #I'm moved #Wait...i can't watch...

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purelyfiction · 4 months

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━◦○◦ⓢⓞ◦○◦ⓘⓣ◦○◦ⓖⓞⓔⓢ◦○◦━ .t.w.o.

NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader

Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.

Word Count: 2,999 words

Author Note: :)) I know it's shorter than the first part but I am trying here y'all - I really am. but!!! more Celeste and Jake for your trying monday night xD ━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

There are only so many ways to avoid conversation, which is why Jake’s fiddling with the radio. It makes you nervous, seeing how he man-handles the wheel with one hand, the touch pad in the car with the other. Who was the genius to put touch screens in vehicles anyway? That seemed like a stupidly dangerous decision. But you weren’t an engineer so that meant it wasn’t for you to worry about. Or maybe it was since Jake was fucking around with it while operating a motor vehicle.

“Shit, there is literally nothing good on.” His voice is low before he asks the AI assistant again to play a specific song. You turn your face to the glass of the passenger door, trying to hide the growing smile on your face as the country song plays. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything!” You defend, looking at him while actively battling the grin.

“The thing on your face - you’re smiling, why are you smiling-”

“I can’t just smile?”

“Not out of the goddamn blue like Jeffery Dahmer, you can’t!” It’s now that you realize that there’s a subtle twinge in his voice. He’d relayed plenty of stories to you at the bar but not once did he mention where he was from. And the slight drawl on his lips helps you narrow it down slightly. Well that made sense now. The pop country track wasn’t out of the blue when you pieced it together.

That isn’t why you’re giggling though. Instead of answering his question, you lean into the door, watching the landscape whizz by.

“Gonna answer my question?” He prompts once more.

“I’m just smiling!” You try, looking at him with a laugh. The look on his face is one that makes him look like he’s almost about to explode under the stress you’ve seemingly put him under. Finally, you relent. “I- well I wrote this. That’s all.”

Brows furrow as he turns down a road. “I’m calling bullshit.” Now your lips part in amused shock.

“Are you joking? I wrote this!” You give an astonished laugh as you slowly approach a modern looking gate overlooking the driveway to a residence.

“No. Prove it.” Off the top of your head, you begin to list the chord progressions, C. F7. G7. F7. C. As he parks the car, he’s still being stubborn. “That proves nothing other than you can play the song.” Scoffing with a roll of your eyes as he pulls his phone out, tapping something on the screen. The large gate slowly begins to recede into the bushes next to it.

“Here.” You hand him your own phone, Google provides not only the lyrics, but the song writing credits at the very bottom. Jake squints and points to the name, reading it out loud to you. “Yes!”

“That doesn’t say ‘Celeste’.” Now he’s smirking, leaving your head falling forward. You quickly move to your purse, grabbing your wallet and then your ID, throwing it at him, causing both of you to laugh when it hits his face. He scrambles to pick it back up, looking at the plastic. Then, not unlike a bouncer at a bar, he cross references the name on the card to the one on the screen. Jake then has the audacity to bend it for authenticity.

“Oh give me that.” You snatch both of your belongings out of his hands and he holds up his hands in defeat.

“Fine, fine.” The gate is open now, a rolling road of pavement that opens up to a mammoth of a house. You pull into the garage, finally moving into the conversation again, somewhat bluntly.

“Is it so hard to believe I wrote a song about sex?” Jake doesn’t answer. Instead, he gets out of the vehicle, shutting the door behind him. Before you can utter a word, he’s come to the other side and opened the door.

“No. Though, you writing a country song is.” His head disappears from the door frame and he leads you into the house. “It’s not a bad song. You did the whole thing?”

You are slowly following him in, your head craned as you take in the massive building. For its size, it’s very ordinarily decorated. There aren’t massive and astonishingly expensive art pieces on the walls or marble staircases - it was… dare you say: cozy? It was familiar and welcoming in the way a home should be, not sterile and rigid like most homes in the neighborhood were. Of course, you only knew this because of Restoration Hardware and the likes.

Jake is easily leading you to the kitchen, which is less ‘normal’ than the rest of the house. Recent appliances and modern finishes adorn the kitchen, from intricate coffee machines and luxurious wine fridges. He’s stuck his nose into one as you gape at the rest of the house.

It finally dawns on you that maybe you should answer his question.

“I did. It was one of my favorites but.. The entire thing just felt too… out of place for my style- you own this place?” Jake nods. You’re not sure if it’s in response to your question or to your response.

“Sounds about right. I can’t imagine you singing country music.” He’s moved around the kitchen toward the fridge. “And no, I don’t.”

You freeze for a minute. If he didn’t own this place…

“Then whose house-“

“It’s my mom’s.” Well that wasn’t listed in any of the answers you’d predicted he’d give you. Still, he’s pulling a bottle of wine from the wine fridge, reading the label and then sitting it on the counter.

“Your mom owns a place… in LA?” He starts digging into drawers, looking for what you can only presume to be a wine bottle opener. You help him in his pursuits, pulling random drawers open.

“Well… it’s- okay so I bought it for her. She really loves the drive to Big Sur on Highway 1 and so she’s got this place to stay at and then there’s my place in San Diego. My place isn’t big enough to house my whole family, so they crash here when they’re in town for football games, they just take a quick flight up to SD. Or make the drive if they have the time.” You’ve found the wine opener by now and are unintentionally holding it hostage. He’d bought his mom a house so she didn’t have to stay in a hotel in San Diego? And he just flew her home whenever she wanted?

“So.. you crash here because no one can tell when it's your mom or you here?”

He shrugs. “Sort of. It’s as close to home as I can get without boarding a four hour flight.” Jake pushes the bottle in front of you, and you distract yourself by opening the bottle as he putzes around with his phone. It begins to ring as you screw metal into the cork. You preoccupy yourself with your task as he disappears to the other side of the room. The blonde paces the room as he settles on the phone. An unfortunate look crosses his features and it certainly doesn’t inspire anything confident in you. While he hangs up, you are still struggling with the damned cork in the bottle. “Well, that was my lead security guy.” Jake speaks, leaving your attention on him as you hopelessly tug on the bottle and the jammed instrument in the glass neck.

“And what does Mr. Security have to say-” your question is punctured by the pop of the stubborn cork. As well as the splash of decade old fermented grape juice all over Jake’s mom’s nice granite counters. And your very new, very white tank top. Defeatedly, your hands let the bottle gently come to the surface, staring down at the mess. For some reason, you don’t immediately respond to the mess. You just… stare.

It isn’t until Jake comes along with paper towels, bumping your hip with his own to nudge you out of the way. “Don’t worry about it.” The wine is cleaned in no time, and you hazily fill two waiting glasses.

“What a waste of good wine.” You complain, before nearly gulping your first sip down. Jake simply laughs.

“Happens. Anyways, Wells, he said they can’t get to your room.” Setting your glass down you’re about to explain how reception desks work. The quarterback beats you to it. “Now listen, smartass. I know what you’re about to say, cause I would’ve said the same thing-” he laughs. You tandemly giggle along with him, “the hotel literally can’t get into your room. The key card reader is malfunctioning. The guy who fixes them won’t be in until tomorrow.” The groan off your lips is paired with your footsteps as you move to his living room.

“Great. Well,” you take another sip, pausing in the middle of the room, “guess you made a smart move of bringing me here then. We have an out if we get caught. ‘My room was malfunctioning so like the gracious gentleman you are, you let me stay at your place.”

“My mom’s place.” He corrects, slowly following you into the room with massively vaulted ceilings. There are beams across it, dark in color. If the sun was still up, the entire thing would be flooded with daylight from the skylights in the ceiling.

“Right. Your moms.” You spend time staring up at them, admiring how he was a whole ass homeowner as you count his skylights. Eight skylights. When your attention comes back to the horizontal plane, Jake looks over at you as he tosses his phone to his couch. When he does, you realize your own voice is softly playing over the built in speakers.

“Are you quizzing me? Is that what’s happening here?” You squint at him teasingly as he sets his glass down. “No, I’m putting it on so I can learn it. If I consistently listen to things on a loop my brain seems to soak it up - almost like a sponge.” The blonde disappears from behind the couch, down a hallway, leaving you to admire the stone fireplace that crawled to the ceiling, basking in the notes and chord progressions you’d strung together.

“Oh, so I’m not studying, you are.” You call out to him, letting it echo down the hall. He mimics your call.

“Yeah. My coach will have me benched if this doesn’t go well. So, I’m gonna be damn sure I know everything about my girl.”

You know what he meant. The word wasn’t meant to be possessive, or affectionate. Except, coming off of his lips - so naturally like that… it was easy to mistake it for genuinity.

“That tracks. What are you even doing over there?” As you call out, your feet are slowly making their practiced patterns from choreographed rehearsals timed with the song playing over you.

The realization makes you giggle. You haven’t performed this in over four years. So it was silly you still knew it. But it also was just plain silly. Dancing around to your own music, tipsy in a multi-million dollar house in the Hollywood hills, with a stranger who let you spill wine on his quartz counters. The whole thing is something from a novel.

“You ruined your shirt, and your stuff is locked in a hotel almost thirty minutes away, so-” Jake has looped around the couch by now, watching as you step in time with your music. One hand grips to a pile of clothing, his other hand pointing your direction. “If you plan on me learning this then you can forget it.” The clothes drop to the leather of the couch as you continue to step with the words, shimmying for emphasis.

“Oh come on, it’s so easy.” Moving to the coffee table, you set your glass down, grabbing his now empty hands and pulling him further into the room. “Ready? Just follow my steps.”

And he does, doing as best as he can as you emphasize the words, using them as the tempo with your steps. You know that’s not how your dancers did it, but that’s how you’d done it. Using the words were like landmarks, signifying when you needed to do specific motions. Jake seems to pick it up, somewhat effortlessly, with an uncanny ease.

“Oh you totally dance.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. Don’t even try to deny it.” You tease him further as the song ends and transitions into the next one. This one has a heavier tone to it, but it doesn’t stop you from following the steps. Your mind floods with the dance moves and the arena tour. The catwalk into the crowd, the sultry steps you took alongside the music. The outfit you’d had on. God, you had felt so hot in that outfit. It was one of your favorite tour costumes. You’d wanted it back from wardrobe when the tour was over - but the Music Hall of Fame had wanted it for a display not even three months ago. Otherwise you would’ve worn it to New Years Eve. It was your favorite.

It was Jonah’s favorite.

Jake has stopped dancing at this point. His attention has moved to each of the coordinated moves you made until you got halfway through the song, grabbing your glass and sitting next to him where he was perched on the arm of the chair.

“Your turn.” You tease, only to sip from your glass. Surprisingly, Jake downs his glass and stands up.

His dance moves are horrible. Downright awful. But you laugh all the same as he tries to sing along, getting the words wrong. You shake your head and continue to grin as you begin to sing along to the words.

“I’d walk through the fire if you were the flame, couldn’t care less if they call me insane, I don’t need the fortune and I don’t need the fame, I just need for you..” The note drags out as the song picks up, your hand slapping against the couch with the drum as Jake continues his terrible rendition. Finally you finish the line, “to say my name. Say my name! I’d take it all on, face all of the pain, say my name!”

The instrumental approaches the bridge, an overlapping conversation in the background of the audio, ‘Celeste’ over and over in low sounds. But Jake’s voice catches you off guard. He’s stopped dancing by now, but you look at him all the same. Your name falls off his lips again. When you look like you’re about to question him, he just laughs.

“You said to say your name.” Rolling your eyes, you finish your wine, moving back to the kitchen to grab another glass. You wouldn’t tell him, but so few people called you by it anymore. It was refreshing. You retrieve the clothes he’d dropped to the couch, before giving him a pointed gleam of a smile.

“I’m gonna go change- bathroom?” He points you in the direction of the room, and you quickly slide in. Once your shirt is off, you’re dropping it into the sink, the water running as you try to get out a stain that was on the verge of being fully dry. That was, admittedly, less than helpful. Still, your soggy shirt is the least of your problems when Jake comes knocking on the door.

“You okay?” You open the door and show him the shirt in the sink. There’s a low laugh that comes from him. “I have a laundry room- here, give me that, I’ll go put a stain remover on it and let it sit for the night.” You don’t exactly know why, but you are kind of shocked that he offers. You had imagined he would just turn and leave you to your failed attempts, but instead he’s been rather compassionate to your cause. Though, it doesn’t take him long to mock you for your misfortune. You then remind him that this was his wine that was causing the problems after all.

Jake then proceeds to ask you about each song that comes up over the speakers for the remainder of the night. He surprises you with his questions on specific words, asking what they mean and making you laugh as you play dictionary for the man. When the bottle is finally empty, the two of you have sprawled out on the couch, the ceiling having transformed into some form of entertainment for the two of you.

When you try to stifle a yawn, the blonde slowly pushes from the couch with a low grunt. It makes your stomach surge. Being in close quarters with a man like this was one thing: the sound he’d made was a completely other itinerary. One you never planned on following. The only plans you wanted to follow were the contractual ones you’d signed off on the other afternoon. The way that Jake was standing in front of you, holding out a hand to help you off the couch was making that more difficult. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed, popstar.” Drowsily, you take his assistance, but his strength pulls you up way harder than you were anticipating, leaving you flying into his chest and leaving him to subsequently catch you. When he does, you’re only in a fit of giggles as he holds on tight, feeling how his breath falters as he tries to return it to its regular rate. “You think that’s funny?” He smirks, moving the two of you now in some makeshift waddle, arms locked around you. His breath comes hot over your shoulder as you move through his house - his mom’s house - and toward a room. When the door creaks open, another damn near erotic sound leaves the athlete behind you. You know you didn’t cause that sound (even if you kind of wished you had). That was the work of one disassembled queen bed frame against the wall of the guest bedroom.

#top gun maverick #top gun #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #hangman fanfiction #hangman fanfic #hangman x reader #hangman #hangman top gun #top gun maverick hangman #hangman top gun maverick

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allpromarlo · 2 years

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i would rather watch the bengals 15 times on primetime than watch another broncos tnf game

#having the COLTS on primetime is a choice in and of itself but by god if i have to watch russell wilson one more time #they are TIRED. we may be 5 weeks in but they are TIREDDDDD #GET THAT THING OFF THE ROAD BRUH #i'd rather watch my ravens get decimated than that how ASS do you have to be #no more russell wilson the world has moved past russell wilson #what is it with athletes named russell and being washed by the time they hit year 10 #nfl #denver broncos #indianapolis colts #absolutely terrible my gawd

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rafecameronssl4t · 2 months

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(for DCC!reader) Can you do something inspired by that moment in the last chapter of the documentary, where someone inappropriately touches a cheerleader? If the same thing had happened to reader, how would Rafe act? 💌

In the spotlight || nfl player!Rafe Cameron x dcc!reaader

A/n: that ep made me so sad for Sophy :( she deserved so so much better

Warnings: mentions of SA, swearing if theres anything else lmk

Word count: 1,408

MASTERLIST (nfl!rafe x dcc!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“And my phone—” Kelli starts, but Judy interrupts her, her tone urgent and filled with concern. “Somebody’s inappropriately touched Y/N, and she’s in the hallway talking to a policeman.”

Kelli freezes, absorbing the shocking news, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts. “They told me to let you know. She’s right here in the hallway,” Judy continues, her voice steady but insistent.

“Who?” Kelli asks, her heart pounding. “Y/n—” “No, who?” Kelli interrupts, her voice sharper now. “A cameraman inappropriately touched her. She’s identifying him and giving a statement to the police right here in the hallway,” Judy explains, her words rapid but clear.

Kelli immediately gets up from her seat, her legs moving before her mind fully registers the action. “Does Coach know?” she asks as they walk swiftly toward the hallway.

“Yes, he does,” Judy assures her. Kelli exhales deeply, trying to steady her nerves. As they reach the hallway, another woman approaches Kelli. “Y/n just went back out to dance,” she informs, her eyes darting toward the policeman escorting a cameraman. Kelli’s eyes narrow as she immediately assumes it was him.

“She said that while they were walking back out to start the third quarter, he touched her inappropriately. She gave her statement to the police,” the woman continues. Kelli nods, her concern for Y/N’s well-being etched on her face.

“So they’re talking to him. She asked to press charges.” “They’re what?” Kelli asks loudly, straining to hear over the loudness of the stadium. “Y/n asked the police that she wants to press charges,” the woman repeats firmly.

“She does?” “She does, so she’s back out doing her dance for the third quarter,” the woman confirms as Kelli turns to Judy, her expression troubled. “She probably shouldn’t be dancing if she’s really upset.” A policeman approaches them, looking serious. “Are we 100% sure that was him?” he asks. The woman nods. “She pointed to him and said that was him.”

“Then we need to pull her. She doesn’t need to be dancing. I’ll grab her,” Kelli says firmly, She strides out onto the field, her eyes scanning for you among the cheerleaders.

Kelli walks along the sidelines, her eyes scanning the cheerleaders until she spots you dancing. She can immediately tell from your expression that you’re visibly uncomfortable, even though you’re trying to mask it with a practiced smile. Kelli’s heart aches for you, the worry gnawing at her insides.

Kelli has always taken pride in ensuring the girls’ safety on the team, and when things like this happen, she feels as though she has failed you. Her protective instincts kick into high gear as she moves closer, watching you intently.

As the dance finishes, Kelli is quick to walk up to you, wrapping a secure arm around your shoulder. She pulls you slightly away from the other girls, her presence a comforting shield. You lean down to hear what she is saying. “I’m gonna take you inside, sweetheart. The police wanna talk to you,” Kelli’s voice is calm and steady, trying to soothe you. You nod, grateful for her support.

“Are you okay?” Kelli asks as the two of you make it inside the hallways where it is quieter. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was more that I was taken off guard, and I’m still kinda shaking from it,” you reply, a tear sliding down your cheek. Kelli wipes it away gently, her touch reassuring.

“Okay, well, I’ll grab you a jacket—” Kelli’s cut off by the sound of Coach Johnson’s voice. “Y/N!” he calls out as you turn your head to see your dad moving past people to get to you.

“Dad—” your voice is cut off as he engulfs you in a tight hug. And that was when all the tears finally came out. The overwhelming emotions you had been holding back burst forth. It was all such a blur when it happened. You were just doing what you always did, walking into formation when you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist.

You were very shaken up; you didn’t know how you managed to continue performing without breaking down. “I heard what happened, are you okay?” your dad asks in concern as he strokes your hair, kissing the crown of your head as you let the tears roll down your face.

“Yeah, no, I’m okay, I think. I’m just so shaken up still,” you manage to say, squeezing your dad tighter as he sighs. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there—”“Don’t apologize, you’re here now,” you say, pulling back as he kisses your forehead.

“Here, here’s some water,” Kelli comes up with a water bottle as you gratefully take it from her. “The police are in there waiting for you,” she gently says as you nod, taking a deep breath as your dad tucks stray pieces of hair behind your ears before you walk back into the room.

“Coach!” Both Kelli and your dad turn their heads to see Rafe running down the hallway.

“Yo, what the fuck’s going on over there?” Chris taps Rafe on the shoulder, pointing towards you, engaged in a tense conversation with a policeman The grand arena is buzzing with game day excitement, but you look visibly shaken, your usual confident demeanor replaced by an unmistakable distress.

Rafe furrows his eyebrows, confusion and concern etched onto his face as he scans the scene. “I don’t know,” he mutters, distracted by the sound of the whistle signaling the continuation of the game.

But Rafe’s mind is not on the game at all. His eyes constantly dart towards where you stand, the unease growing within him. He watches intently as Kelli approaches you, leading you back inside the stadium corridors.

Rafe’s worry intensifies, his need to know what the fuck is going on becoming unbearable. A few minutes later, he notices Coach Johnson, your dad, rushing off the field with an urgency that confirms Rafe’s worst fears.

Determined to find out what’s happening, Rafe breaks numerous rules by swapping places with his teammate, assuring him he’ll take the blame for the unauthorized switch. Without a second thought, Rafe sprints off the field, heading towards the hallways in search of you.

“Rafe, what are you doing here?” your dad asks, his voice tinged with both surprise and concern as he sees Rafe enter the inner corridors of the stadium.

“I swapped with Justin. Where’s Y/n? Is she okay?” Rafe’s voice is laced with anxiety. Coach Johnson, momentarily overlooking the rule-breaking, focuses on the more pressing issue at hand. “She’s talking with the police right now, Rafe.” He sighs deeply as Rafe’s face falls. “What happened?”

“A cameraman touched her inappropriately out there—” “What?” Rafe’s voice rises, anger surging through him at the thought of anyone laying a hand on you. “Are you fucking serious?” He moves to charge past Coach Johnson, but is quickly restrained by both him and Kelli.

“Whoa, whoa, Rafe. Let’s think before we do anything stupid, yeah?” your dad says, his tone calm but firm, attempting to ground Rafe’s escalating fury. Rafe is breathing heavily, his eyes locked on the door to the room where you are.

“Listen, why don’t you wait here until Y/n gets out. I’m sure she’ll appreciate you being out here for her,” Kelli suggests, placing a reassuring hand on Rafe’s shoulder. He looks at her, his anger slowly giving way to concern.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll do that,” Rafe says, swallowing hard as Coach Johnson pats his back in approval. “Good man,” your dad says, his voice filled with gratitude for Rafe’s loyalty and concern. As Rafe waits anxiously, the bustling sounds of the stadium seem to fade away, his entire focus on making sure you’re okay.

As Rafe waits anxiously, the bustling sounds of the stadium seem to fade away, his entire focus on making sure you’re okay. Moments later, the door to the room where you had been giving your statement to the police opens. You step out, your eyes red and teary, your face etched with the strain of holding back emotions.

Rafe doesn’t hesitate. He strides forward and immediately engulfs you in a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you as if to shield you from any more harm. He couldn’t care less if anyone saw the two of you and took pictures of it. You collapse into his embrace, the tears you’ve been holding back now freely flowing.

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