crushpunky

[crushpunky]

AB-SO-LUTE-LY !!!! check it out !!!

MAKE RAFE GREAT AGAIN | Campaign

OBJECTIVE: In response to the rise of violent misogynistic, manospheric, red-pill and incel (romantic) characterization of Rafe Cameron, I decided to create a campaign for writers to join me to combat it.

RULES: Simply, write a fic about Rafe and Reader where Rafe (a) doesn't act like those terms above, or (b) if he does, where Reader doesn't tolerate that behavior and calls him out on it. You can create a mean/bitchy Reader if you want, but it's not required. All this campaign aims to do is bring together more writers and readers who want to see less of those misogynistic fics and more nuanced takes.

INTERACTIONS: I will be reblogging all those who join this campaign. I want to help facilitate and build up the community. To do so, either drop your link in my inbox, and/or use the tag #zyafics-mrgacampaign. Also, I will be adding the work to this post for a curated list.

ADDITIONAL NOTES: (Optional) If you want to follow the theme of this post, you absolutely can! The hex codes I used for this post are: FCDD00 - E62601 - 28282B, and the divider I created myself, so feel free to use them!

TO CLARIFY: In this campaign, you can also go the DDDNE route! You can create a misogynistic, incelic, or manospheric character of Rafe. But the objective is to not romanticize it. Address it. Inform your audience narratively, lyrically, or thematically that the context is harmful. That's all I ask.

DATES: 06/24/2025 – Present

UNTITLED — @zyafics

[crushpunky]

about to start writing more bitchy and mean readers for the rafe fandom in response to the rise of so many sexist? tradwife? bimbo-fied and infantilized? readers? wtf is going on

[crushpunky]

joe burrow x kelce!reader moodboard

masterlist

joe had never meant to fall in love with the youngest kelce... but, i mean, how could he not? (something i can't stop thinking about recently lol)

taglist: @ladyatwalmart @lilfreakjez

[crushpunky]

im back from vacation + my asks are OPEN !!!

drop some requests, questions, or whatever your heart desires <3

[crushpunky]

not saying i predicted joe and his matcha…. but i predicted joe and his matcha

social media!reader and joe’s first “lesson”

masterlist

Joe hated social media. I mean, he liked posting about things he liked and seeing what his friends and people he followed posted, but that was about it. He didn’t like reading comments or answering dms or god forbid doing some stupid Tik-Tok trend. It all just felt so pointless.

Well, unfortunately, his team disagreed.

“You need to… really improve your social media.” Joe’s manager told him with a sigh as she scrolled through his latest Instagram posts and stories.

“What are you talking about? I am great at… social medias.” Joe scoffed, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. Joe’s manager stopped her scrolling before looking up at Joe with a quirked brow.

“Joe, this is an actual picture that you posted yesterday on your story,” Joe’s manager sighed as she turned her phone to show Joe his picture. It was a picture of him and one of his high school friends out at a bar, though based on the blurriness of the photo as well as the fact that half of Joe’s face was cropped out, it would be quite difficult to discern that.

“That’s a great photo.” Joe said simply.

“You misspelled your friend’s username and just tagged some random account.” Joe’s manager sighed. “And how did you add a .5 second snippet of a song from the Lion King? I didn’t even know that that was possible.”

“Alright, alright! Fine.” Joe groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, we have two options: either we can have someone take control of your accounts—” Joe’s manager started.

“No. Absolutely not.” Joe said. “That’s for like… famous people. I don’t want that shit. I can handle myself.”

“Joseph, whether you like it or not, you are famous. You are a famous figure. This stuff matters.” Joe’s manager said. Joe propped his elbows up onto the table before dropping his head into his hands with an exaggerated sigh.

“What’s the second option?” Joe mumbled into his hands.

“You can work with a social media assistant who can help you to curate your online presence.” Joe’s manager explained as she tapped through her phone. “She’ll show you how to use each of the platforms, how to keep an organized online space, and keep you up to date on the trends.”

“So, this is like a person’s job?” Joe asked, peeking up from his hands. “Helping clueless people figure out how to use the internet?”

“Yes,” Joe’s manager smirked, “and she’s quite good at it, see?”

Joe’s manager turned her phone around once more to show Joe an Instagram feed. Each of the columns and rows were well organized, fresh and authentic, yet classic and sophisticated. However, while Joe’s manager might have been expecting him to look at the well maintained account, Joe found his eyes locked squarely on the girl behind the page: y/n.

“So, uh, this is her?” Joe stammered, reaching out to scroll through his manager’s phone. As he scrolled and scrolled, more photos of her filled the screen. Pictures of her and her friends, her on vacation on a beach, her sitting in a bookstore, her lounging by the pool—

“We’re going with option two then?” Joe’s manager said with a small giggle as she pulled her phone back, Joe blinking harshly as he returned back to the present.

“Uh, yeah, option two is good.” Joe said, swallowing harshly as he nodded.

“Alrighty then,” Joe’s manager smirked, “we’ll get started on Friday.”

Joe sat in the cafe, anxiously drumming his fingers against the table. It was a lowkey spot about an hour outside of Cincinnati, far enough away to keep their meeting away from the prying eyes of the public but still close enough to give Joe some amount of comfort knowing he wasn’t too far from home. Surprisingly, Joe’s manager had been the one to suggest the two of them meet here. Something about y/n being a “chill girl” and “the two of them should get to know each other outside of the confines of an office”. He had a suspicion she had noticed his reaction to her profile and decided to stir the pot known as Joe’s romantic life… not that he was complaining, though, it had been a while.

Suddenly, the front door to the cafe swung open. The bell chimed throughout the space as a girl walked in, her eyes warm as she scanned around the cafe before finally landing on Joe. Joe smiled gently, standing from his seat as y/n approached the table.

“Hi, you must be Joe.” Y/n grinned, offering her hand out. Joe took it, his much larger hand enveloping hers as he shook her hand. His brain paused, continuing to shake her hand as he noticed the softness of her hands gentle against the calluses that marred his palms. Once he noticed, he quickly stopped, causing y/n to giggle, her laughter almost melodic.

“Sorry, yes I am Joe.” Joe chuckled, clearing his throat before he sunk back into his chair. “You must be y/n.”

“That I am.” Y/n said as she sat across from him, resting her forearms on the tabletop. She fiddled with the various rings adorning her fingers as she continued to look at him, a gentle smile on her lips. The light shined through the windows of the cafe, casting the girl in front of him in a beautiful, golden glow.

“So, uh, do you— would you like something to drink?” Joe asked, running a hand through his hair. As his fingers combed through his locks, a single curl fell perfectly on his forehead.

“Uh, sure. That would be great.” Y/n said sweetly.

“Whatever you want, it’s on me.” Joe said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“An iced matcha with oat milk would be nice. Thank you.” Y/n smiled, twisting one of her rings around her finger.

“Ok, yeah. I’ll be right back.” Joe cleared his throat before heading over to the counter. As he went up to order, y/n began preparing her “lesson” for Joe, opening up her Instagrams, the cute presentation she’d thrown together, even a little printout she specifically made for Joe. Y/n put together the final touches of her set up, setting out a bright orange pen for Joe (he probably liked orange, right?), just as Joe returned to the table.

“Is this supposed to be green?” Joe asked, peeking at y/n’s drink in the sunlight. In his other hand he held his own drink: a plain, black coffee. A boring but foolproof classic.

“Yes, it looks perfect!” Y/n smiled, taking the drink from him. “Thank you, Joe.”

“Yeah, n– no problem.” Joe stammered, his heart skipping a beat the moment his name left her lips so sweetly. Y/n took a sip, humming to herself as she savored it.

“This is really good, you killed it on the ordering.” Y/n teased. Joe chuckled a bit to himself, swirling his coffee cup on the tabletop.

“Dang, maybe I should’ve got that instead.” Joe said as he took a sip of coffee, the bitter liquid sliding down his throat.

“You can try some, if you’d like.” Y/n said, sliding the cup across the table towards Joe. His eyes flicked down to the green drink in front of him before looking back up at the smile on y/n’s face. Joe reached out hesitantly, lifting the cup to his lips. He took a small sip, the grassy drink causing his brow to furrow as he swallowed.

“Do you like it?” Y/n asked, blinking at Joe as he smacked his lips slightly. He sat the drink back down, mulling over the taste.

“It’s… interesting.” Joe shrugged simply. “Don’t think I’ve had anything like that before.”

“Wow, you’re already learning so much.” Y/n teased as she took a sip of her drink. Joe chuckled, leaning against the table as he scanned over the various materials y/n had spread out across the tabletop.

“Well, I did come here to learn.” Joe said, his fingers reaching for the orange pen. He spun the pen between his fingers as y/n spun her computer around to show him the presentation she’d made for today. It was a cutesy pink background with various photos and stickers, even a few football and tiger ones she’d added for Joe.

“And I came here to teach.” Y/n said, clearing her throat dramatically as she slid one of the printouts towards Joe. As she launched into her “lesson”, Joe tried his best to follow along, but he kept finding himself getting distracted by the excitement that arose on her face as she spoke enthusiastically about posts queues or story formats. His eyes lingered on the way she fiddled with the necklace that rested atop her collarbones, his stomach feeling the slight buzz of butterflies over the almost childlike wonder he found himself entrapped in.

Before he knew it, y/n was closing her laptop before turning to him with a warm smile on her face.

“So, do you have any questions?” She said sweetly, Joe blinking blankly back at her.

“Oh, uh, I don’t think so.” Joe stammered, fiddling with the orange pen between his fingers.

“Do you maybe want to practice?” Y/n said.

“Practice?” Joe asked.

“Yeah, show me how you’d… post an Instagram story.” Y/n smiled, gesturing to Joe’s phone that sat on the table between them. Joe’s eyebrows raised, nodding to himself as he picked up his phone. He opened the Instagram app, fumbling a bit through the screens until he got to the Story tab.

“Just… take a picture?” Joe asked, to which y/n nodded excitedly. With a deep breath, Joe lifted his phone. He focused the camera on y/n, the bright light filtering in through the windows and highlighting her face beautifully.

“Oh, you don’t have to take a picture of me—” y/n started, but Joe already pressed the “capture” button. His flash went off, nearly blinding y/n because of the already very bright room. Y/n blinked quickly, her eyes adjusting back to the light.

“Sorry, I didn’t— I don’t know what happened.” Joe swallowed as he looked down at his phone. The photo was entirely blurry, Joe’s shaky hands combined with the fact that y/n was in the middle of talking, making it almost entirely impossible to make out what was happening. It also didn’t help that his finger was blocking half the photo or that the flash made it way too bright.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” Y/n said, peering at Joe’s phone as he frowned down at the photo in his hands. Joe sighed, running a hand down his face with a groan.

“How about we try again and I’ll walk you through it.” Y/n said, nodding gently to Joe.

“Yeah, ok. That’s a good idea.” Joe nodded, closing out the photo and returning back to the camera.

“So, first let’s turn off your flash.” Y/n said, tapping a fingernail on the top of Joe’s phone. His fingers hovered over the top of the screen, searching for the flash, a confused look on his face.

“I… I don’t— where is that?” Joe asked, looking up at y/n hesitantly. Y/n stood from her seat, rounding the table to stand next to Joe. Her shoulder brushed against his, the soft floral scent of her perfume immediately filling Joe’s lungs in a way that made it difficult to focus as she tapped away on his phone.

“Got it?” She said, turning to him, Joe’s eyes already focused on the profile of her face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah.” Joe nodded, his eyes flicking to her lips before his attention returned to the camera in front of him. His fingers rested slightly above the phone screen in his hand.

“So… you wanna take a picture?” Y/n whispered with a slight giggle.

“Yeah, sorry.” Joe murmured as he focused his camera on the table in front of them. He zoomed in, pushing his coffee cup forward to sit next to y/n’s matcha, adjusting his posture once more before finally snapping the photo.

“Oh my god, you did it!” Y/n said, bumping her shoulder against Joe’s as she let out an excited squeal.

“I did it,” Joe said simply, grinning slightly to himself. “Now what do I do?”

“Well usually you would press the post button, but—” y/n said as she pointed to the button in the corner, but before she could finish Joe pressed the button. The photo closed, loading quickly as it was posted to his story.

“But we don’t need to do that…” y/n finished, blinking at Joe’s phone as he tapped onto the posted story. He swiped up, showing that already within seconds the story had garnered hundreds of views. Joe groaned, putting his phone face down on the table as he rested his face in his hands.

“It’s fine, it’s ok!” Y/n said earnestly, placing a hand on Joe’s back. “We can delete it… I mean people have already seen it, but it’s not that big of a deal. We just know for next time, right?”

“I’m helpless.” Joe sighed as he lifted his head from his hands. Y/n let out a small chuckle as she returned back to her seat opposite him.

“Hey,” y/n said, reaching a hand across the table to rest on Joe’s forearm gently, “you’re still learning. You’ll get there, I promise.”

Joe felt goosebumps spread across his skin under y/n’s touch as he moved to meet y/n’s comforting gaze.

“Thanks. Thanks for doing all this.” Joe said, gesturing to the materials spread across the tabletop.

“No problem, it’s seriously my pleasure.” Y/n grinned, retracting her hand to rest in front of her.

“So… same time next week?” Joe said, a small smirk spreading across his lips.

“Same time next week.” Y/n smiled, her sweet grin causing his heart to skip a beat once more.

[crushpunky]

@.drewynupdates instagram posts

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

drew starkey x actress!reader - @.drewynupdates instagram posts

taglist: @ladyatwalmart @lilfreakjez @starkeyslutzz @maiya-16 @wolfcin04 @rana030

[crushpunky]

a fic or smau where drew and actress!reader was spotted by the fans being super sweet and clingy with each other during taylor swift concert

stop this is so cute !!!! (+ perfect timing because i miss taylor / the eras tour—-)

check it out here :)

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader spotted at the eras tour

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this was requested + im missing taylor/the eras tour lol. featuring the queens madelyn cline + rachel zegler. enjoy <3

The day that the tickets went on sale, Drew woke up to y/n sobbing. Loudly.

“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong?” Drew said groggily, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he moved to soothe a hand down her back.

“I– I just l–love her so m–much and—” Y/n let out another sob as Drew finally looked over at the array of devices strewn about their bed, each of them filled with errors or astronomically long ticket lines that would inevitably end in nothing. Drew softened, his racing heart calming as he pulled y/n into his arms.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Drew murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I promise you that you will see her, ok?”

“B–But everything is s–sold out.” Y/n said, her bottom lip trembling. “I called my manager and the venue and—”

“I will get you those tickets.” Drew said sternly, his brows furrowing in determination.

It was months later, a week before the actual concert, when Drew finally got the call he had been hoping for for so long. He’d been working with his manager, his neighbor, his parent’s friends from high school, and just about every other person he could think of to score these tickets. After his hard work, and pulling a bit of strings with Madelyn and her manager, he had finally scored a suite for themselves and whomever else wanted in.

Y/n was out running errands she’d insisted on doing by herself, her arms full of bags when she came home to hear “Cruel Summer” blasting from the speakers through their house.

It wasn’t entirely unusual to come home to Drew blaring music, but it usually wasn’t Taylor and he usually wasn’t sitting by the door like an excited puppy. As soon as they locked eyes, Drew’s lips pulled into a wide smile and y/n immediately knew. She dropped her armful of bags before sprinting across the room, practically tackling Drew to the ground as she covered his face in kisses.

“I love you, I love you, I love you!” Y/n cried, holding Drew impossibly tighter. Drew let out a chuckle, pressing a kiss to her crown as y/n bounced with excitement.

“I told you I’d figure it out, didn’t I?” Drew smirked as y/n finally loosened her grip on him just enough to look up at him before delivering one last searing kiss to his lips.

“You did.” Y/n smiled, reaching up to brush a piece of Drew’s hair back. “Now we need to figure out our outfits.”

“Outfits?” Drew asked with a furrow of his brow.

“You didn’t think I was just going to let you just wear sweatpants, did you?” Y/n grinned.

The day had finally come. The stadium was vibrating with excitement, thousands of fans making their way into their seats as they anxiously awaited the concert they’d all dreamt of. 

Y/n’s silver heeled shoes clacked against the floor as she practically skipped through the back hallways that led to their seats. Her hair was swept back and secured with a black bow, glitter sprinkled throughout her hair. She wore a silver, sequined dress, the light reflecting off of it making her look like a walking mirrorball (which was the entire point).

Drew held her hand, watching with a wide smile on his face as her eyes lit up the second the stage came into view. He wore a black, leather jacket, which he quickly ditched once they settled into their suite, to reveal his white t-shirt with the words “king of my heart” sprawled across his broad chest. He had thought it was a little cheesy at first, but judging by the look on y/n’s face when he put it on, it was well worth it.

“Drew.” Y/n said, turning away from her view of the stadium to look at him.

“Yeah?” Drew asked, cocking his head as she stepped closer to him.

“Thank you.” Y/n murmured, wrapping her arms around him with a giggle. Drew simply smiled, pressing a kiss to her head. He kept his arm resting around her waist as the two of them watched the sea of fans below.

The two of them chatted casually, their suite beginning to fill up with more and more of their friends as the time for Taylor to take the stage crept closer. Rachel and y/n debated surprise songs while Madelyn and Drew swapped friendship bracelets. The excitement was palpable and the energy was at an all time high as they sipped on drinks as the openers played. 

Once the famous countdown began, y/n squealed excitedly, practically bouncing up and down. Drew squeezed her hip, watching the stage in front of him but also getting distracted by y/n’s excitement. And once Taylor appeared? Drew wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen such a big smile on her face (not that he was complaining).

As the show went on, everyone danced and sang together. Y/n twirled with Rachel and Madelyn, the girls singing at the top of their lungs the lyrics to each and every song. Eventually, y/n made it back to Drew’s side, his hand snaking around her waist. She rested her head on Drew’s shoulder, inhaling deeply as she tried her best to convince herself this was real and she wasn’t dreaming, as the opening chords of “Lover” played.

In that moment, a couple of especially eagle-eyed fans spotted them, snapping photos of the lovestruck couple as y/n gazed out at Taylor. Drew watched Taylor, but his attention kept drifting towards y/n. Eventually, y/n’s eyes flicked up to meet his, the two of them smiling widely at each other before looking back towards the stage with flustered giggles and flushed cheeks.

taglist: @ladyatwalmart @lilfreakjez @starkeyslutzz @maiya-16 @wolfcin04 @rana030

[crushpunky]

on vacation and time zones are fucking with my posting schedule, so enjoy now lmao

chronically online!reader instagram posts

masterlist

rafe cameron x chronically online!reader - chronically online!reader instagram posts

taglist: @ladyatwalmart @lilfreakjez @starkeyslutzz @maiya-16 @wolfcin04 @rana030 @neonuserlforce

[crushpunky]

flower for your thoughts?

rafe x florist!reader

Rafe didn’t know what possessed him to walk into the flower shop.

Maybe it was the ridiculous heat. Maybe it was the sign outside that said “Today’s Special: Sunflowers and Serotonin!” Or maybe it was you, standing behind the counter, tucking a daisy behind your ear like it belonged there in your pretty hair.

He stopped in the doorway and promptly forgot how to breathe.

You looked up with that soft, welcoming smile. “Hi there! Looking for something special?”

Rafe blinked. Then blinked again. “Uh…”

You tilted your head, waiting patiently.

“…Yeah,” he finally said, eyes darting wildly around the store. “I need… flowers.”

Your smile grew. “Well, you’re in luck. That is what we sell here.”

Rafe cleared his throat. “Right. Yeah. Obviously.”

You gently walked over, wiping your hands on your apron, completely unaware of the war Rafe was having internally over how pretty you looked surrounded by petals and sunlight. “Do you have someone in mind? A girlfriend? Anniversary? Apology bouquet?”

“No! I mean—no, not… no girlfriend.” He paused. “I mean, not yet.” He immediately wanted to slam his head into a vase.

You laughed, the kind of laugh that sounded like the beginning of spring. “Alright then, mystery bouquet it is.”

Rafe nodded, gripping the edge of the counter like it was keeping him upright. “Cool. Cool, yeah. Just, uh… make it something that says ‘I like flowers, but also I’m, like, masculine?’”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t tease him. “I think I’ve got just the thing.”

Ten minutes later, he left with a wildly chaotic bouquet of wildflowers and eucalyptus, cheeks slightly pink, and your business card tucked in the pocket of his hoodie.

He swore he didn’t even like flowers. But now? Now he needed a reason to come back tomorrow.

Maybe he’d say his “non-girlfriend” really liked the bouquet.

Even if he never gave it to anyone but himself.

...

By the third week in a row, you’d stopped asking why Rafe was back.

But he still offered an excuse. Every time.

“These?” he said, glancing at the pastel bouquet you’d just wrapped for him, the one he picked out himself with surprising focus. “Uh… they’re for my aunt.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You said last week’s were for your aunt.”

“Right. Yeah. Different aunt. On the other side. Of… the country.”

You tried not to smile. “Must be a lot of birthdays in your family.”

Rafe nodded solemnly, like he was grieving the sheer number of imaginary relatives he had to account for. “Yeah. Big flower crowd. We’re, uh, really emotional people.”

The bell above the door chimed as he left, muttering something about 'floral therapy.'

You watched him go, messy hair, sweatshirt sleeves half-pushed up, carrying a bouquet like it was a precious artifact, and shook your head, heart a little warm.

You had no idea where the flowers were actually going. But you had a strong suspicion they were sitting on his kitchen table. Next to last week’s. And the week before that.

...

It started as a casual thing, just a silly game you played when business was slow and Rafe dropped by, pretending to browse.

You’d hold up a bloom and quiz him.

“Okay, what’s this one mean?”

He squinted at the delicate purple petals. “Uh… it’s giving... mild anxiety?”

You laughed. “Lavender. It means serenity.”

He rolled his eyes. “Same thing.”

The next time, you handed him a daffodil. “This one?”

“Sunshine? Or, like, happy?”

“Rebirth,” you grinned, “but I like your answer too.”

Over the weeks, he got better. Remembered a few. Asked questions. You didn’t think he was taking it seriously, until one rainy morning when you arrived to unlock the shop and nearly tripped over something on the front step.

A bouquet.

Messy, imperfect, and so very Rafe.

Red tulips. Honeysuckle. White lilac. A sprig of camellia.

Declarations of love. Bonds that can’t be broken. Youthful longing. Admiration.

Tied together with something makeshift: a gray hoodie drawstring knotted around the stems, fraying a little at the ends.

No card.

But you didn’t need one. Because when you looked up, Rafe was across the street, umbrella in hand, pretending to check his phone, failing to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

You ducked your head, cheeks warm, heart thudding.

You’d teach him the meaning of every flower in the world. But he just taught you what it meant to be seen.

[crushpunky]

write more about drew x actress reader please 🧎🏻‍♀️I LOVE THEM SO MUCHHHH

awwww tysm <3

i am on vacation rn, but i have something coming out very soon !!

[crushpunky]

chronically online!reader instagram posts

masterlist

rafe cameron x chronically online!reader - chronically online!reader instagram posts

taglist: @ladyatwalmart @lilfreakjez @starkeyslutzz @maiya-16 @wolfcin04 @rana030 @neonuserlforce

[crushpunky]

Heather

request: a Joe Burrow request based on the song heather by conan gray! but happy ending as usual yk

something sweet for the weekend, babes ✨ took lots of creative liberties with this one—hope you love it! thank you to whoever sent in the request 💌

Joe Burrow x Reader 4.4k Words

masterlist: click here for all my stuff!

tag list: sign up here to get tagged in new stuff! 🌟

December 3rd, 2018

You were walking back from the bar with Joe, the December air just cold enough to make you shiver. Your friend group had just finished celebrating his birthday early—December 10th always fell during finals, so you'd made December 3rd your traditional date for Joe's birthday celebration.

"You're shivering," Joe observed, that quiet way he noticed everything about the people he cared about.

"I'm fine," you lied, wrapping your arms around yourself as you walked across campus. It was mostly empty, just a few students hurrying between buildings under the soft glow of the streetlights.

Without a word, Joe stopped walking and pulled his purple LSU hoodie over his head, his t-shirt riding up slightly in the process. You tried not to stare at the glimpse of skin, the way his hair stuck up after the fabric passed over it.

"Here," he said, holding it out to you.

"Joe, you don't have to—"

"Take it." His voice was gentle but firm, and when you still hesitated, he stepped closer and pulled it over your head himself, his fingers briefly brushing against your neck as he adjusted the hood. "It looks better on you than it did on me, anyway."

The hoodie was warm from his body heat and smelled like his cologne—something woodsy and clean that made your chest tight with feelings you'd been carefully keeping buried for three years. You pulled it closer around yourself, trying not to think about how the casual gesture felt like the most intimate thing in the world.

"Thanks," you managed, your voice smaller than you intended.

Joe's smile was soft, genuine. "Always."

If only he knew how many times you'd replay that moment over the next few days. How you'd wear his hoodie to bed, pressing your face into the soft fabric and pretending it meant something more than friendship. How you'd catch yourself staring at him during your group's regular hangouts at Ja'Marr's apartment, wondering what it would feel like if he looked at you the way you looked at him.

But Joe Burrow had never seen you as anything more than a friend, and you'd accepted that reality a long time ago.

Or at least, you thought you had.

***

December 15th, 2018

"So Heather's coming tonight," Justin announced as your group gathered at the usual bar near campus, the kind of place that was sticky and loud and perfect for cheap drinks and good times.

You tried to keep your expression neutral at the mention of her name. Heather Collins had appeared in your friend group two weeks ago—some connection through one of the girls in your broader social circle—and she was everything you'd never been. Tall, blonde, effortlessly beautiful in a way that made guys stop mid-conversation when she walked by.

Including Joe.

"Cool," Ja'Marr said, already scanning the crowd for their server. "She seems nice."

She was nice. That was the worst part. You wanted to hate her, wanted to find some flaw that would justify the sick feeling in your stomach every time you saw Joe's face light up when she entered a room. But Heather was genuinely sweet, funny, and completely unaware of the effect she had on everyone around her.

"There she is," someone said, and you looked up to see Heather weaving through the crowd toward your table. She was wearing a cream-colored sweater that probably cost more than your textbooks, her hair falling in perfect waves over her shoulders.

Joe stood up immediately, that easy smile spreading across his face—the one that used to be reserved for your group, for moments when he was relaxed and happy. Now it seemed to appear every time Heather was around.

"Hey," he said, pulling out the chair next to him. "Saved you a seat."

Heather beamed, sliding into the chair with graceful ease. "You're too sweet."

You took a large sip of your drink and tried to focus on the conversation Ja'Marr was having about their upcoming bowl game, but your attention kept drifting to Joe and Heather. The way he leaned in when she spoke, like he didn't want to miss a single word. The way she laughed at his jokes, not the polite chuckle you'd perfected over the years.

"You okay?" Justin asked quietly, following your gaze.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

But Justin's expression said he wasn't buying it, and when you glanced around the table, you caught similar looks from the rest of your friends. Everyone could see what was happening except the two people at the center of it.

As the night wore on, you watched Joe become more and more captivated by Heather. He bought her drinks, told her stories about growing up in Ohio, made her laugh until her cheeks flushed pink. And when she got cold—because, of course, she got cold—he didn't hesitate to shrug out of his jacket and drape it around her shoulders.

It was a nice jacket. Nicer than the old hoodie he'd given you two weeks ago. Newer, more expensive, the kind of thing you gave to someone you wanted to impress.

"I should probably head home," you said during a lull in conversation, already reaching for your purse.

"Already?" Joe looked genuinely disappointed, and for a moment, your heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when he paid attention to you. "It's not even midnight."

"I'm tired, I wanna go home and crash," you said, which wasn't entirely a lie. Watching Joe fall for someone else was exhausting.

"I'll walk you out," Ja'Marr offered, but you shook your head.

"I'm good. Have fun, guys."

You made your rounds of quick hugs and goodbyes, trying not to notice how Joe's attention was already drifting back to Heather before you'd even left the table. Outside, the December air felt sharp against your skin, but you welcomed the bite of it. Anything was better than sitting there watching the boy you'd been in love with for months fall for someone else right in front of you.

Your phone buzzed as you waited for your Uber.

Joe: Get home safe. Text me when you're there.

You stared at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Months of friendship, and he still texted you after every night out to make sure you got home okay. It was sweet, thoughtful, and completely platonic.

You: Will do.

But as you climbed into the backseat of the car, you made a decision. You were tired of watching from the sidelines. Tired of pretending it didn't hurt. Tired of being the friend who got the old hoodie while other girls got the nice jacket.

It was time to protect your heart.

***

December 22nd, 2018

Joe: Movie night at my place tonight? Ja'Marr's bringing his PlayStation.

You: Can't tonight, working on a paper that's due Monday.

Joe: Bowl party this weekend? Everyone's coming.

You: Might have to work, I'll let you know.

Joe: Haven't seen you around lately. Everything good?

You: Just busy with end-of-semester stuff! You know how it is.

Except Joe didn't know how it was, because his classes were online and his biggest concern was preparing for their bowl game. But it was easier to blame school than admit the truth—that seeing him with Heather felt like swallowing glass, and you were finally putting yourself first.

You'd been successfully avoiding the group for over a week, declining invitations with vague excuses about work and school. It helped that finals were actually approaching, giving you a legitimate reason to be scarce. But the real test would be Joe's next game.

You'd never missed one of his games, not once, since he'd transferred. You had a ritual—his number 9 jersey, the same seat in the student section with your friends, the same pre-game text wishing him luck. Missing it would definitely send a message.

But as you sat in your apartment that Saturday afternoon, listening to the crowd roar from Tiger Stadium a few miles away, you knew you'd made the right choice. You turned off your phone and tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, ignoring the way your chest ached with every distant cheer.

Your phone stayed off until Sunday morning, and when you finally turned it back on, the messages were waiting.

Joe: Good luck, text? Come on, it's tradition.

Joe: Looked for you in the stands. Where were you?

Joe: Call me when you get this.

Ja'Marr: Joe's asking where you were. What do I tell him?

Justin: You missed a good game. Joe threw for 4 TDs.

Joe: Seriously, are you okay? I'm worried.

You stared at the messages for a long time before typing back.

You: Sorry, wasn't feeling well yesterday. Heard you guys won though! Congrats.

It wasn't technically a lie. Heartbreak was a kind of sickness, wasn't it?

Joe: Thanks. Feel better.

The conversation felt stilted, wrong. After months of easy friendship, you suddenly didn't know how to talk to each other. But this was what protecting yourself looked like—messy, painful, necessary.

You just had to stick with it.

***

January 8th, 2019

"Alright, what the hell is going on with you and her?" Ja'Marr's voice cut through the noise of the bar where Joe was nursing his second beer, trying to celebrate their bowl game win and failing miserably.

"What are you talking about?" Joe asked, though he knew exactly what Ja'Marr meant.

"Don't play dumb. You've been asking all of us about her for weeks. She's been MIA since before Christmas. What did you do?"

Joe's jaw tightened. "I didn't do anything. She says she's been busy with school and work."

"School and work." Justin snorted, sliding into the booth across from them. "Right. When did she stop coming around, Joe? Think about it."

"I don't know, a couple weeks ago—"

"Try again." Ja'Marr's voice was pointed. "When exactly did she start bailing on group stuff? When did she miss your game for the first time in three years?"

Joe thought back, a sick feeling forming in his stomach. "I don't know, maybe mid-December—"

"Oh, I don't know," Justin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe right around when you and Heather started doing whatever it is you're doing?"

Joe went quiet, staring down at his beer. Your short texts. Missing his game. The way you'd barely said two words to him lately.

"Shit," he said quietly.

"Oh," he said quietly, the realization washing over him like cold water.

"Yeah, 'oh,'" Ja'Marr said. "Jesus, Joe. We've all been watching this for fuckin' months, dude."

"Watching what?" But even as he asked, Joe knew. He'd always known, somewhere deep down, where he hadn't let himself look too closely. The way you smiled at him. The way you always showed up. The way you fit so perfectly into his life that he'd never questioned why you were always there.

"She's in love with you, man," Justin said. "Has been for a while. And you've been too up your own ass to notice."

Up his own ass. Yeah, that was exactly what he'd been. So focused on football, on his own stuff, that he'd completely missed what was right in front of him. He'd convinced himself you were being a good friend, never bothering to look deeper.

So he'd dated other girls. Kept things casual. Told himself he was protecting your friendship when really he was protecting himself.

And Heather? Heather was easy. Pretty, uncomplicated, new. He didn't have to think about it.

"Shit," Joe breathed, running his hands through his hair. "Shit, I really fucked this up."

"Yeah, you did," Ja'Marr agreed. "Question is, what are you gonna do about it?"

Joe looked around the bar, suddenly desperate to leave. To find you. To fix this before he lost you completely.

"I have to end things with Heather," he said, already reaching for his jacket.

"And then?"

Joe met his friends' eyes, the realization still sinking in.

"Then I have to fix this."

* * *

January 9th, 2019

Joe found Heather at her usual study spot in the library the next afternoon, her blonde hair catching the light as she bent over her textbook. She looked up when he approached, her face brightening with that easy smile that had initially drawn him to her.

"Hey," she said, closing her book. "I was wondering when I'd hear from you. How was your night with the guys?"

Joe slid into the chair across from her, suddenly unsure how to start. Heather was sweet, and she didn't deserve to be hurt because he'd been an idiot.

"It was good," he said, then paused. "Actually, we need to talk."

Something in his tone must have given him away because her smile faltered slightly. "Okay."

"We should probably stop this," Joe said. "It's not fair to you."

Heather was quiet for a moment, studying his face. When she spoke, there was understanding in her voice rather than surprise.

"This is about her, isn't it?" she asked. "Your friend who stopped coming around."

Joe's eyebrows raised. "You noticed?"

"Kind of hard not to," Heather said with a small smile. "The way you kept looking toward the door when we were out, like you were expecting someone. How you'd get this look on your face when someone mentioned her name." She shrugged. "I figured you'd realize it eventually."

"I'm sorry," Joe said again, meaning it. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this."

"I know." Heather reached across the table and briefly squeezed his hand. "For what it's worth, I hope you figure it out with her. She's lucky to have someone care about her that much, even if you're too stubborn to see it."

Joe managed a rueful smile. "Thanks. I hope so, too."

"Just don't wait too long," Heather said, gathering her things. "Girls like that don't stay single forever."

* * *

January 9th, 2019 - Evening

Joe: Can we talk?

Joe stared at his phone for twenty minutes. No response. Not even read receipts.

Joe: I know you're avoiding me.

Another hour passed. Nothing.

Joe: I fucked up. I get that now.

Still nothing. Joe ran his hands through his hair, pacing around his apartment. He'd never had to chase after anyone before, never had to work this hard just to get someone to respond to a text.

The next day, he was desperate enough to try a different approach.

***

January 10th, 2019

Joe was sitting on the steps outside your building when you got back from your late Thursday class. He looked up when he heard footsteps, and you stopped short when you saw him.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice carefully neutral.

"You won't answer my texts."

"I've been busy."

"Bullshit." The word came out harsher than he intended, and he saw you flinch slightly. "Sorry. But come on. It's me."

You shifted your weight, looking anywhere but at him. "What do you want, Joe?"

"I want to talk to you. Not whatever this has been for the past month."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Really?" Joe stepped closer, and you took a step back. "Because Ja'Marr and Justin seem to think there is."

Your face went pale, then flushed red. "What did they tell you?"

"The truth, apparently. Something I should have figured out a long time ago."

You were quiet for a long moment, hugging your backpack tighter against your chest like armor. When you finally looked at him, there was something guarded in your expression that he'd never seen before.

"Congratulations," you said flatly. "You figured it out. Do you want a medal?"

The bitter tone caught him off guard. This wasn't how he'd imagined this conversation going.

"Can I come up?" he asked. "Please. Five minutes."

You stared at him for what felt like forever before shaking your head.

"I can't do this right now, Joe."

"When then?"

"I don't know. Maybe never."

You turned and walked toward your building without looking back, leaving Joe standing alone in the parking lot with the sinking realization that fixing this was going to be a lot harder than he'd thought.

* * *

January 12th, 2019

You'd been avoiding the complex's common areas for three days, taking the long way to your car and timing your movements around when you knew Joe would be at practice. But Saturday morning, you ran out of coffee, and desperation won over pride.

Of course, he was in the parking lot, loading gear into his car.

"Hey," he said when he spotted you.

You gave him a small nod and kept walking toward your car, keys already in hand.

"Wait." His voice was quieter than usual. "Please."

You stopped but didn't turn around.

"I ended things with Heather."

That made you turn. Joe was standing a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, looking more uncertain than you'd ever seen him.

"Good for you," you said, but there wasn't much bite in it.

"I know you don't want to hear this right now, but I need to say it. I was wrong. About everything."

You studied his face, looking for something you weren't sure you'd recognize. "Joe—"

"Just... can we talk? Not out here. My place."

You were quiet for a long moment, weighing the ache in your chest against the small part of you that still hoped this might mean something.

"Your place," you said finally. "Twenty minutes. And this doesn't fix anything."

Relief flickered across his expression. "I know."

"Twenty minutes," you repeated, getting in your car before you could change your mind.

As you got in your car to get coffee, you tried to prepare yourself for whatever this conversation was going to be. But deep down, you knew there was no preparing for Joe Burrow finally wanting to talk about feelings.

* * *

Joe's apartment was the same as always—a couch, a big TV, not much else. You sat on the edge of his couch while he stood by the kitchen like he wasn't sure where to put himself.

"So," you said when the silence stretched too long. "Talk."

Joe ran a hand through his hair. "I don't really know where to start."

"How about why you suddenly care now?" The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn't take them back. "Funny how you want to have this conversation right after I stop coming around."

"That's not—" Joe stopped, jaw tightening. "Okay, maybe it is. But not the way you think."

"Then explain it to me."

He was quiet for a moment, staring at the floor. "I didn't know," he said finally. "I genuinely didn't know you felt... I mean, I hoped sometimes, but I convinced myself I was seeing things that weren't there."

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Right. So this has nothing to do with losing your friend and everything to do with some great revelation about your feelings."

"No, that's not—" Joe's voice got sharper, frustrated. "God, you're not making this easy."

"Why should I make this easy?" You stood up, suddenly too restless to sit. "You want to know what's not easy? Watching you with a different girl every few weeks. Heather was just the last one I could handle watching. Watching you give her your nice jacket while I got some old hoodie."

Joe's expression shifted. "You think that's what that was?"

"Wasn't it?"

"No." He stepped closer, something intense in his voice. "That hoodie was my favorite. I gave it to you because..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Because what?"

"Because I wanted you to have something of mine. Something that was important to me."

You stared at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. But you'd spent too many weeks protecting yourself to let your guard down that easily.

"That's convenient," you said. "Real convenient that you're remembering all these meaningful moments now that I'm not around anymore."

Joe's eyes flashed. "You want to know when I knew? 

You crossed your arms, waiting.

"When you didn't text me before the Auburn game. Since I got here, you never missed that text. I kept checking my phone right up until kickoff, and when it didn't come..." He shook his head. "I played like shit that first quarter because I kept looking for you in the stands."

"Joe—"

"I'm not done." His voice was steady now, more sure of himself. "When Justin asked me when you stopped coming around, I knew exactly when. December fifteenth. Because that was the first time I went out and didn't look for you when I walked into the room. And I hated it."

You felt something crack in your chest, but you held onto your anger like a lifeline.

"So what? You miss having me around as your friend? 

"It's not about missing a friend." Joe stepped closer again, and this time you didn't back away. "I don't want you as just my friend. I should have figured that out sooner."

"Prove it," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Joe looked at you for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. "How?"

* * *

Joe was quiet for a moment, looking at you like he was trying to figure out where to start.

"You remember that night in October when you fell asleep on my couch watching film?" he said finally.

You frowned, not sure where this was going. "Yeah."

"I carried you to my bed and slept on the couch. But before I did, I just... sat there for like twenty minutes watching you sleep." He ran a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable with the admission. "I kept thinking about how right you looked there. In my space, in my bed."

You felt your heart skip a beat, but you kept your mouth shut.

"And that time you came to the library at like 2 AM when I was stressed about the Alabama game. You didn't even say anything, just brought me coffee and sat there while I watched film for three hours."

"I was being a good friend—"

"No." Joe shook his head. "That's what I told myself, too. But good friends don't make your heart race when they walk into a room. They don't make you wish you were brave enough to kiss them when they fall asleep on your shoulder."

You felt your resolve starting to crack.

"You want to know why I gave you that hoodie?" Joe stepped closer. "Because I liked seeing you in my clothes. I liked that you smelled like my detergent the next day. I liked that everyone could see you wearing something that was mine."

"Joe..."

"And when you stopped coming around, it wasn't just that I missed my friend. I missed you specifically. The way you laugh at my stupid jokes. How you always steal food off my plate, even when you have your own. The way you get that little crease between your eyebrows when you're concentrating."

He was close enough now that you had to tilt your head up to look at him.

"I missed wanting to kiss you and being too much of a coward to do it," he said quietly. "So yeah, maybe it took you pulling away for me to realize what I was losing. But what I was losing wasn't just a friend."

You stared at him, heart hammering against your ribs. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because I ended things with Heather before I even talked to you," Joe said. "Because I'm standing here telling you things I've never said out loud to anyone. Because I'm willing to risk whatever friendship we have left for the chance that you might feel the same way."

The last of your walls crumbled.

"I do," you whispered. "Feel the same way. I have for so long, Joe."

Something shifted in his expression—relief, want, something that made your breath catch.

"Yeah?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice rough.

You answered by reaching up and pulling him down to you.

* * *

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like you were both still testing the waters of this new territory. Joe's hands came up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones as he kissed you with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.

"This is weird, right?" you said, voicing what you were both thinking.

Joe's mouth quirked up in a small smile. "The kind of weird we can work with?"

"Yeah," you said, reaching up to touch his face. "Definitely that kind."

"We just made out in my apartment," Joe said, like he was testing the words. "That's... new."

You burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all, and Joe joined in, the tension breaking into something lighter. When the laughter faded, he was looking at you with an expression you'd never seen before—soft, open, completely unguarded.

"I can't believe we waited this long to do that," he said.

"I can't believe you were too scared to make a move for months," you teased, some of your usual dynamic sliding back into place.

"Hey, you could have made a move too," Joe protested, but he was smiling.

"I was protecting my heart, thank you very much. You were the one dating half of LSU."

Joe winced slightly. "Yeah, about that... I'm sorry. I really didn't know."

You studied his face, seeing the genuine regret there. "I know you didn't. That's what made it worse, honestly. You weren't trying to hurt me."

"I never want to hurt you," Joe said seriously. "Not ever again."

The weight of that promise settled between you, and you realized that despite the weirdness, despite the months of friendship you were potentially risking, this felt right. More right than anything had in a long time.

"So what now?" you asked.

Joe shrugged, but he was still smiling. "I guess we figure it out."

"Our friends are never going to let us live this down," you said, already dreading the smug looks from their friend group.

Joe groaned. "I forgot about them."

[crushpunky]

bookworm III

-> blurbs pt. I + blurbs pt. II

-> rafe x bookworm!reader

You should’ve known the second you mentioned book club that Rafe would take it as a challenge.

"I have to close early tomorrow night. Book club’s meeting here this week."

Rafe, who was leaning on the counter eating one of the muffins he brought (for you, but he always ended up eating half), perked up immediately.

"Book club?" he repeated, muffin paused mid-bite.

You nodded, sliding a volume into place. “Yep. Small group. Mostly regulars. Very nerdy.”

He grinned. “I’m comin’.”

You laughed. “You don’t even read the books.”

"I can read," he said, deeply offended. “Also, I like hangin' out here. And I wanna see what the hype is.”

You tried to warn him. You really did.

"It’s... a lot of older ladies. They take it seriously."

"I take things seriously," he shot back. Then smirked. "Especially you."

And that was the end of that.

The next night, you set out tea and cookies, rearranged the chairs in a circle, and, right on time, Rafe walked in. Wearing a crisp, ironed button-down. With his hair actually styled. And carrying a battered copy of The Great Gatsby he’d clearly panic-bought that morning.

"Hey," he whispered, slipping into a seat next to you. “I’m ready.”

You gave him a Look. “You actually read it?”

"…I read the back," he whispered proudly. “And a few pages. He throws parties, right? I can relate.”

You bit back a smile. “Just... try not to dominate the conversation.”

"Me? Never."

Five minutes in, the ladies were thrilled to have Rafe there.

"Oh, honey, we’ve heard about you," Miss Eleanor said, patting his arm. “The handsome one who keeps buying up all the poetry books.”

Rafe flushed pink. “Well, she makes this place hard to leave.” He shot you a quick smile.

You wanted to be annoyed that he was stealing focus off the book but the way he leaned in when you spoke? How he asked questions even though he was clearly lost? How he kept looking at you like you were the smartest person in the world?

Yeah. You couldn’t be mad.

When it came time to discuss symbolism, one of the ladies asked: “What do you think the green light means, Rafe?”

He sat up straight. Cleared his throat.

"Uh, yeah. That’s like... the thing he wants but can’t reach. Like… uh…" He glanced sideways at you. “…You know. Dreams. People. Stuff like that."

You blinked. That was... actually not bad.

Miss Eleanor beamed. “Well said, dear!”

Rafe looked so proud of himself you could’ve melted. After everyone left, you were stacking chairs when he wandered up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist.

"Told you I could handle book club," he murmured smugly into your ear.

You laughed, leaning back against him. “You barely knew what was happening.”

"Yeah, but you were impressed."

You turned in his arms, grinning. “Maybe a little.”

"Cool," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly. “Next week’s book?"

"Moby-Dick."

He groaned. “You’re tryin’ to kill me.”

"Guess you’ll just have to hang out here more so I can help you.”

Rafe’s grin was instant. “Deal. Now speaking of dick..."

...

It started because you’d been sighing over the love letters in your latest book club read: an old, worn copy of 'Persuasion'.

"Can you believe this letter?" you’d said, dreamy-eyed, reading the passage aloud. “'You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope.'”

Rafe, sitting at the counter with a coffee, had blinked. “Kinda dramatic.”

You gave him a Look. “It’s romantic.”

"Yeah. Well… maybe I’ll write you one," he mumbled, trying to sound casual.

You grinned, knowing full well Rafe Cameron probably hadn’t written anything longer than a text since high school. “I’d love to see that.”

Cue: Rafe Cameron absolutely panicking.

The next afternoon, he was in his truck with a blank piece of paper and a pen.

"Okay, letter. Gotta use big words. She likes big words."

He dug through the glove compartment and found a crumpled receipt which he used to scribble “synonyms for love” on the back. Thirty minutes and about five ruined drafts later, he ended up with this:

Dearest (your name),

You are an exceptionally luminous individual whose presence makes my days approximately 300% better.

When you smile, it is comparable to... the sun? Or like, a really good sunrise. I don’t know how to say it fancy but it messes me up. In a good way.

I would do literally anything to see that smile every day. I would read more dumb books. I would put Pride and Prejudice in the correct section. I would even sit through another three-hour book club.

I like you. A lot. Maybe even love you. Probably love you. Definitely love you.

Rafe

P.S. If this letter sucks, it’s because I’m not good at letters, not because I don’t mean it.

He left it on your counter early the next morning without telling you. You found it a few hours later, tucked between Persuasion and your planner. By the time Rafe strolled in later that day, trying to act casual, you were waiting.

"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “So. Uh. Did you, like... see anything... or…”

You just grinned, holding up the letter.

"This is the sweetest, most perfect thing I’ve ever read."

Rafe’s ears turned bright red. “Yeah? You liked it?”

You stepped forward, tugging him down by his collar. “I loved it.”

And when you kissed him softly he was pretty sure no fancy words in the world could explain how he felt about you.

bookworm comeback

[crushpunky]

hey so im sorry for probably spamming you cuz I’ve been liking almost all of your rafe/drew fics HAHA can i ask if reader’s character will ever go back to obx (season 5 maybe)? if so, can u possibly write more about that and (maybe a hint on what will happen to rafe and sofia if reader comes back) thank u 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

lol it’s ok, i’m so glad you enjoy them <3

and the answer to your question: i don’t know !!!

i have some ideas of how actress!reader’s character caroline could return, but i’d love to hear what you guys think after reading her story through seasons 1-3 and her “appearance” in season 4

[crushpunky]

Drew and actress!reader at tudum!! Obsessed with your writing 🤍🤍

tysm !!! check it out here :)

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader attend tudum

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

enjoy this requested fic <3

Bulbs flashed brightly as y/n stepped a high heeled foot onto Netflix’s red carpet. The attention of the crowd shifted to her, everybody’s eyes falling on her black minidress and dazzling, camera ready smile. From the opposite end of the carpet, an exceptionally loud holler caused y/n’s head to turn, her gaze locking with the familiar blue eyes of the holler’s source.

“There she is.” Drew murmured, his voice inaudible over the crowd, but y/n could tell exactly what was going through his mind. Y/n felt her cheeks warm as Drew’s eyes raked over her, a cheesy grin spreading across his lips as he noticed the details of her outfit. Y/n winked at him before returning her gaze back to the crowd of onlookers, their hands full of cameras and microphones and their voices all clamoring for her attention.

“Y/n!” An excited reporter waved at her, a wide smile on her face. “Do you have a minute for an interview?”

Y/n smiled back at the reporter before stepping to the side of the carpet to greet her. The fans crowding the barricade around her screamed excitedly, y/n letting out a chuckle as she waved at them before standing in front of the reporter and her camera.

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you here back with Netflix!” The reporter smiled.

“It’s so great to be back here with everyone.” Y/n nodded, gesturing to the Netflix stars that lined the red carpet.

“You look absolutely amazing— of course— could you tell us a bit about your look?” The reporter asked.

“Aww thank you.” Y/n cooed, laughing bashfully as she glanced down at her outfit. “Well,  I wanted to keep it nice and simple. You can’t go wrong with a little black dress, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” The reporter agreed, her attention catching on a ribbon of familiar fabric adorning y/n’s hair, the same fabric tied into a bow on the back of y/n’s dress and on her heel. “I love the little bow details… the pattern looks a little familiar to somebody’s suit.”

Y/n felt her cheeks warm, letting out a little giggle as she glanced over her shoulder towards where Drew posed on the carpet, the gray plaid of his suit the exact pattern of y/n’s bows. She had wanted to surprise him, so she coordinated with his stylist to get some excess fabric to use in her own outfit. Judging by the smile on his face when he saw her, he most definitely noticed.

“Haha, yeah.” Y/n grinned. “I thought it’d be fun to coordinate.”

“Well you guys both look stunning.” The reporter grinned. “But I have to ask about the reason you’re here today: Knives Out. What can you tell us about that?”

“Oh jeez, I’m not sure what all I can say, you know?” Y/n laughed. “I mean it’s a mystery with lots of questions and twists— the classic Knives Out elements— but it also is something so different and unlike anything else we’ve seen before.”

“That sounds so, so exciting.” The reporter said. “Now, as I’m sure you know, you’re not the first Outer Banks alum in the Knives Out franchise. Your costar Madelyn Cline was in the previous installment, did you two talk at all when you found out you’d be joining the world of Knives Out?”

“Oh yeah.” Y/n nodded. “Right after I found out I got the part I immediately called up Madelyn and she was so excited… she might’ve been more excited than me.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” The reporter said. “How was it working with this absolutely star studded cast?”

“A-ma-zing.” Y/n said dramatically, a wide smile on her face. “It was so surreal to get to act with these people who are the absolute best of the best when it comes to their craft.”

“I can only imagine.” The reporter said. “There were so many new amazing faces, to the franchise but we have to talk about the Daniel Craig. I mean you’d met him before when your husband, Drew, had worked with him previously in ‘Queer’, but it has to be so different actually acting next to a legend, right?”

“Oh, it was amazing getting to work with Daniel.” Y/n said. “I met him about two years ago when I went to visit Drew on the set of ‘Queer’ and—”

Y/n was interrupted as the crowd exploded into loud cheers and excited screams.

“You talking about me?” A voice whispered behind y/n, causing her to jump before turning around to see Drew’s grinning face. Y/n immediately relaxed, her eyes rolling playfully. Drew chuckled, resting his head atop hers as he squeezed her in a hug before pulling away, but keeping his hand draped around her waist.

“All good things, I promise.” Y/n grinned up at Drew as he smiled back at her.

“Well, Drew, this is just perfect timing because I was just about to ask y/n about the next season of Outer Banks.” The reporter said. “How are you guys feeling about this being the last season? Sad? Excited?”

“A mix.” Drew said. “This has been such a huge part of my life— of all of our lives— I mean, I grew up on this show, I got married on this show, so it’s definitely bittersweet.”

“I agree.” Y/n nodded. “I’m so excited to see what they do for this conclusion but I’m definitely gonna miss it.”

“So, with this being the finale, I think everyone is wondering if Caroline will be making an appearance in this last season.” The reporter asked, mentioning y/n’s character from the show. After leaving at the end of season three, fans had been clamoring for more of the romance between Rafe and Caroline that had been cut short far too soon.

Y/n laughed, Drew turning to look at y/n with an inquisitive quirk of his brow.

“I don’t know, I guess fans will just have to tune in and find out.” Y/n said coyly, shrugging her shoulders. Drew let out a playful and dramatic groan, which caused y/n to giggle.

“Well, y/n and Drew, it was so nice to talk with you guys and we can’t wait to see Wake Up Dead Man and the final season of Outer Banks!” The reporter said gleefully.

“Thank you for having us!” Y/n said, waving to the camera, Drew joining in before planting a quick kiss on her cheek and leading her away with his hand around her waist. Drew leaned down to whisper something in y/n’s ear that caused her to laugh, the two of them continuing down the red carpet side by side.

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